I laugh. “Okay, then, I’ll wash it and mail it to you. To the sanctuary.”
Uncle Bilal comes closer, a polite smile taking over his face when he sees me notice him moving. “Assalamu alaikum, Janna.”
Layth hitches his backpack up higher on his shoulder and salutes me and Khadija. “Okay, I’m gone.”
“Layth, please.” Uncle Bilal’s pleading voice is calm and steady but loud and firm, too.
Layth ignores it and begins walking.
Khadija looks at me and nudges my arm gently. “Let’s get going,” she whispers.
But the lobby is so quiet that the whisper draws Uncle Bilal’s gaze to us again. “I’m sorry. We’re just sorting out a difference in opinions.”
Layth turns around. “Why don’t you just tell them the truth? You want me to be a bot working for someone else, draining my life away, instead of what I want to do.”
Uncle Bilal shakes his head. “No, I want you to use your skills, your talents, to realize your potential.”
“By making money for a corporation,” Layth says flippantly.
“I never said that. I said take your time to learn what kind of career makes sense. I gave you a few suggestions.”
“None of them involved what I want to do,” Layth says. “And you promised you wouldn’t bring this up. I didn’t want to stay here before, and now I’m leaving.”
Uncle Bilal’s shoulders slump. “Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I thought because it was a green, environmentally responsible company you might be interested. I was wrong. Please, Layth. Just stay for your cousins. They’re the ones who asked you.”
I’m surprised to hear him apologize. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Dad apologize. Or say he was wrong about something.
“I knew I shouldn’t have come to begin with,” Layth says, low, before turning and walking to the automated doors.
Uncle Bilal looks after Layth, his eyes clearly glistening with tears now. He whispers “sorry” to me and Khadija and walks to the elevators, his feet moving at a much slower pace than before.
“Yikes.” Khadija nudges me again and yanks her head in the direction of the store. “Let’s go get that milk and peanut butter M&Ms.”
I nod, but I’ve turned to look at Layth’s back disappearing into the dark of the parking lot in front of the hotel. “I think Dania and Lamya are going to be really sad to see that he’s gone.”
“I don’t think we should interfere in this,” Khadija says.
“Let me just go give this back to him.” I hold up the folded scout handkerchief and scrunch the fluff ball to get it ready to throw in the trash can next to the doors. “I don’t think I’ll have the money to mail it to Ecuador.”
“Ecuador?” Khadija follows me.
“That’s where he’s going.” I stop and turn at the doors. “It’s okay, you don’t have to come, Khadija. I’ll only be a minute.”
“That isn’t going to happen. You’re looking at a mosque study circle leader for four years straight. You think I’m going to let you go out there at two a.m. to talk to a boy alone?” Khadija frowns and stares at me. “No way. I’m coming along.”
“Oh my God, Khadija! It’s nothing like that! No way! Him?” I shake my head and roll my eyes. If she only knew my taste in guys, if she only knew the one I really wanted to talk to, to imagine being with, she’d never think this was a big deal.
Layth?
Right.
“He looks like Zayn Malik. I’m coming. Make it fast. It’s a bit chilly.” She crosses her arms and rubs her hands on them as we step out into the night.
At the far end of the lot, Layth’s opening his car door. As he’s about to get in, I call out, “Layth, wait!”
He stops and closes the door and leans on the car, his arms folded on top of the roof. I move faster so I can say more before Khadija catches up.
“I wanted to give you your handkerchief back and wanted to tell you that you don’t have to stay here at the hotel with your uncle. You can stay at my Dad’s. I just have to text Muhammad—I’m sure he’s still up. There’s a lot of room there. And it’ll make Dania and Lamya so happy to see you at the wedding tomorrow.”
He doesn’t say anything, just looks at me. And then he starts smirking.
And shaking his head. Hard. While laughing.
By the time he finishes all this, Khadija’s caught up.
“But why would you want me to stay?” He laughs again.
“I didn’t say I wanted you to stay.” I fidget, aware that Khadija’s hearing all this now.
“You used Dania and Lamya’s names, but I don’t see them here. I don’t see them stopping me from getting in the car.”
“It was just an idea, but if you don’t want to do it, that’s okay.” I hold out the handkerchief. “Here. I think maybe this is special to you?”
He stops laughing.
Stares at me.
And then puts his head down on the top of the car, and from the way his shoulders move, it’s obvious he’s crying.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Khadija and I look at each other. Do we leave quietly? Give him space?
Do we pretend he’s not crying right now?
He settles the question by raising his head, wiping his eyes with the back of a hand, and opening his car door.
“Maysarah needs Dunkin’ Donuts!” Khadija yells suddenly. “And there’s one a few blocks away. Open twenty-four hours. I saw it!”
Layth pauses bending to get in the car, straightens, and stares at Khadija.
“My baby… Maysarah. Janna asked what she needed for a snack,” Khadija says, pointing at her stomach. “We don’t have a car.”
He looks at me. I shrug because I have no idea what’s going on.
Oh wait, I know. “It’s late-night cravings. Pregnant people get them.”
“Are you asking me for a ride?” His body’s unmoving, but he’s still looking from Khadija to me and back again.
“Yeah, I think so.” I shrug again. “If you don’t mind helping a nine-months-pregnant woman?”
He shakes his head and says, “Get in.”
* * *
When Khadija convinces Layth to come inside the Dunkin’ Donuts because she needs “help carrying stuff back to the car,” I start to suspect something.
When she then insists that she needs to have something to drink right then and there and asks Layth to get us a table, I know for sure something’s up.
“What are we doing?” I whisper to her in line. The town of Mystic Lake is pretty hopping on a late-night Friday. There are two people ahead of us waiting to order.
It’s too bad we’re the only ones who look like we rolled out of bed, me in my pajama mishmash and Khadija in her ye olde Victorian nightgown.
“I felt strange letting him drive off like that. I wouldn’t want that for my brother, you know?” Khadija scans the menu and sighs. “But I so don’t want doughnuts.”
“They have muffins and croissants.”