Love from a to Z

She’s got curly hair?
How long is it?
Ugh. I switched off my stupid brain and whispered to Annabelle, “The
remote?”
She passed it to me, still staring at Zayneb.
When I turned the TV on, Cardi B’s “I Like It” blasted out, making us
jump.
I flicked it off. Silence showed up again.
“Your aunt told you that your cousin Adam was coming here, yeah?”
Annabelle pressed gently. “To get his treatments?”
“No, actually. No.” She stopped fighting the curl and looked down the
hall to her right. “I’m just going to drop my stuff in my room and come
back, okay?”
• • •
She didn’t come back out of her room.
And I was okay with it.
Her showing up like this, then completely getting blindsided by me
sitting here IVed, with Annabelle casually on the sofa, two strangers in her
aunt’s living room, must have been awkward. Maybe even scary.
I couldn’t wait for the treatment to be over. To get out of here, go back
home and rest, see Hanna.
See Dad.
I groaned and let my head sink into the headrest of the chair. Dad.

---

Zayneb walked back, her scarf securely fastened now, and I straightened
up again.
Her head scarf was blue with white polka dots.
Her standard smile was back on her face.
“So, hi again.” She beamed at Annabelle.
I closed my eyes. God, she was . . . cute.
“Um, Adam?” It was Zayneb’s voice, soft. “Are you okay?”
I opened my eyes to find her seated on the two-seater couch across from
me, her phone on the arm beside her. “Yeah. I mean, other than the steroids
dripping into my blood to stop my body from attacking itself, yeah, I’m
fine.”
“What happened?” She leaned forward. “What do you mean your body’s
attacking itself?”
Annabelle looked from me to Zayneb, confusion on her face.
“I have multiple sclerosis.”
Zayneb pulled back, her eyes large. “MS? Isn’t that what your . . .”
She wouldn’t go on.
“My mom had it too, yes.” I tried to smile and then added gently,
“Remember my mom is an okay topic?”
And here we were talking about the real taboo topic: my diagnosis.
“I remember.” She lifted her legs up and tucked them under her and then
pulled at the hem of the shirt she was wearing. “Isn’t this supposed to be
happening at a hospital?”
Her head now swiveling between Zayneb and me, Annabelle looked even
more confused. She thought we were cousins, having been told that Ms.
Raymond was my aunt, so she was probably wondering why we were so
out of touch.
Well, even cousins can keep secrets from each other.
“IV treatments for MS attacks can take place at home if the patient
prefers,” Annabelle explained carefully, in a voice clearly communicating
she was unsure of what was going on with us.
“Or at aunts’ houses,” I added, raising my eyebrows at Zayneb, the
moment Annabelle’s gaze left my face.
Zayneb nodded, bestowing me with a thumbs-up as soon as Annabelle
looked away from her. “Even at cousins’ houses.”
Annabelle settled back and nodded. Maybe more satisfied with the state
of things now, she picked up a mango slice with one hand and her book

---

with the other.
“I thought you were going to the souk? With the DIS bunch?” I asked
Zayneb, genuinely curious. What made her come back home?
She picked at her hem before answering. “I kinda had a late night.”
I waited.
“So when I got to the souk, I was just exhausted. And when the others
were getting their henna done, I came back home.” She looked at me, at the
IV pump. “I actually didn’t like the way one of them was treating the henna
artist, kind of bossing her around. So I guess I got angry and left?”
I didn’t say anything, because a smile was growing on Zayneb’s face, and
I wanted to let it grow without stop.
“Like, I had exactly two hours of sleep last night, because I was working
on a project, so I felt kind of unpredictable. I was afraid I’d scream a lecture
about Cultural Appropriation While Hating on People from the Culture
You’re Pretending to Be.” She laughed. “I’m messy like that.”
I smiled. And picked up my phone.