Love from a to Z

really am.
So she went on. “And sometimes I feel like I’m the only person who
feels this want so strongly. Because I’m the only one in class speaking up.
The only one in my family, that’s for sure, who cares this much. Who goes
on marches and writes stuff and just gives a care.”
“Maybe they do in their own way.” Zayneb had softened so much that he
went on. “Maybe everyone does. Care about justice on some level.”
Her brows activated and began their approach to each other again. “What
do you mean? Do you mean, everyone everyone? Like, even Fencer?”
“Well, he gave out the article about this girl killed by her family. Maybe
he wants justice for her?”
Zayneb shook her head, aghast. “No, he was trying to get the class riled
up about Muslims. He was using the Turkish girl, not expressing care for
her. You don’t even know Fencer. And I just can’t believe you’re giving a
real-life Islamophobe excuses.”
“Whoa,” he said. And the second it came out of his mouth, he regretted it
intensely, like he had regretted few things in his eighteen years.
Adam leaned back, stumped on how to proceed. Her voice had become
loud again, and the family, who’d removed their headphones, turned in
unison to look at Zayneb.
He had to explain himself.
“I’m not giving him excuses. It’s just something I thought about while
reading the article.” Adam refused to put his right hand in his pocket,
refused to worry about what Zayneb was doing or its effect on those around
them. “I just wanted justice for her, for the girl buried alive. That’s a terrible
tragedy.”
Zayneb stood stock-still, mouth agape. “You’re falling for Fencer’s
tricks, and you’re not even sitting there in his class?”
“It’s still an injustice, isn’t it? A girl getting buried for talking to boys?
Or for anything at all? Maybe that’s what made your teacher upset.”
“Of course it’s an injustice. That’s not what’s going on here, though. I’m
talking about Fencer’s behavior here.” She bent to get her phone from
where she’d left it on the bench. “Okay, time for me to exit.”

---

He watched her scrolling and typing and, for some reason, couldn’t stop
himself from adding, “Why do you get to decide what injustices to call out
and what not to call out?”
“Oh my God, you’re the one who should get a D for false equivalence!”
she exclaimed, shaking her head. “Adam, it’s been good knowing you for a
week, but I guess we don’t make sense in any way. We’re too different,
and . . .”
It was Adam’s turn to stay still, sure he was holding his breath as he
waited for her to finish.
“We’re from two different worlds. You and your friends don’t make
sense to me.” She glanced down at her phone. “You don’t get my deal, and I
don’t get yours. Like you being chicken to tell your dad about your MS. My
Uber is here, so I’m out of here.”
She walked off.
And Adam?
He sat down.
Put his head in his hands and refused to look up at the visitors milling
around, glancing gingerly over at him once in a while.
He also refused to look at that manuscript.
The one he’d thought bound them together in some kind of out-of-this-
world way.
Ha.