Drawing a Veil by Lari Don Page A

sidekick Kate slid in.
    â€œSorry we’re late, Mr Mac, the bus broke down,” said Megan.
    She walked round to her seat, and swung her bag off her shoulder, knocking Liam’s pencil case onto the floor. Megan looked at it. Then she stood on it. Everyone heard it crunch, as pencils broke under her boot.
    She grinned, then said, “Sorry, ginger,” as Liam went bright red.
    Kate giggled. “What are we drawing today?” she asked Liam.
    But before Liam could answer, both girls looked up at the stool in the middle. Ellie saw Megan’s pale face change as she saw Amina.
    Megan looked for a long time at Amina’s scarf, then she began to grin nastily.

Chapter Three

Mugshot
    At the end of the double period of Art, Mr MacIver said, “Ellie, can you please collect the drawings, and put them on my desk? Everyone else, pack up.”
    Ellie walked round, picking up the sketches. Most of the pictures were pretty good, but Megan had scribbled two cartoons of Amina’s head, one facing forward and one side on, like police photos of criminals. And under the cartoons Megan had written: ‘Wanted: suicide bomber’.
    Ellie put out her hand to pick up Megan’s drawing but Megan pulled it out of reach. “This is for the notice-board.”
    Ellie dived across the desk and grabbed the paper. “You did it in Mr Mac’s class, so he should mark it.”
    Megan tried to grab the picture back, but Ellie stepped behind Liam’s chair.

    Megan started to chase after Ellie, but Liam stood up and pushed his chair back to block Megan’s way. Ellie put the pictures on the teacher’s desk, with Megan’s nasty cartoon right at the bottom.
    As Ellie walked back to her seat, she heard Lauren, the quietest girl in the class, whisper to Amina, “You look really grown up and elegant in that scarf.”
    Once Ellie and Amina were alone in the classroom, Amina reached for her big purple bag. “Have you ever been the model for art class?” she asked Ellie. “It’s quite weird. What were the pictures like?”
    â€œThey were a bit weird too,” Ellie said, “because for some reason, everyone drew you with a headscarf on.”
    They walked into the empty corridor.
    Ellie turned to Amina. “Why are you wearing a headscarf? And why didn’t you
tell
me? I’m your best friend, and I didn’t know. I looked like an idiot, standing there with my mouth open, when you turned up this morning in that… whatever it is.”
    â€œIt’s called hijab. And it’s part of my religion,” said Amina.
    â€œDid your mum make you wear it?” asked Ellie.

    â€œHave you ever seen my mum in hijab? She’s not going to make me wear it when she doesn’t wear it herself! It was my idea. I’m old enough to cover myself, so I’m wearing it to show my support for my sisters.”
    â€œYou don’t have any sisters,” said Ellie. “You just have that great lump of a brother.”
    â€œI mean my Muslim sisters. All over the world,” said Amina.
    â€œOh,” said Ellie as she walked down the stairs. “So is it to stop your god seeing your hair?”
    â€œMy God, your god, anyone’s god, can see whatever they like,” said Amina. “No, I’m wearing it to show that I’m a modest Muslim woman.”
    â€œModest?” Ellie laughed. “Modest! You always do a turn at the school talent show. You’re not modest!”
    â€œI don’t have to be modest about my skills,” Amina told her. “Just my body.”
    â€œYou’re not modest when you score at netball,” said Ellie.
    â€œI don’t have to be modest about that either,” said Amina. “It’s about not wearing miniskirts or low-cut tops, about not
showing off
my body.”
    â€œWhat about fancy shoes?” Ellie asked, as Amina clicked down the stairs beside her in the highest heels she