Love from a to Z

ZAYNEB
TUESDAY, MARCH 12
ODDITY:
IMPULSIVENESS
E
XHIBIT
A 
TO
Z: T
HE
root of everything that has gone wrong in my life. Like
falling for people without thinking things through. And running away from
malls where they were sitting close by, because I wanted them to know how
much I didn’t care about Ada—I mean them.
It was five p.m., and Auntie Nandy wasn’t back from work yet. As I
looked at the food on the dining table from this morning, that I’d covered
before leaving for the mall, I remembered she’d said she’d be doing errands
all day.
I unraveled my hijab, hung it on the back of a dining room chair, and then
methodically packed the breakfast into containers.
I went into the kitchen to put them away in the fridge, and seeing the
dirty dishes stacked on the counter, I decided to do them.
I opted out of using the dishwasher. This was my chore at home, cleaning
the pots and things that didn’t go in the dishwasher, and, right now, I knew I
needed it. I needed the familiarity.
The soapy warm water was like a balm—on my skin and deep inside me
—as my arms plunged again and again into it, soaking and scrubbing dishes
and cutlery and small pots. When I was done rinsing, I dunked my hands in
the sink filled with warm, sudsy, murky water, to squeeze the dish sponge
over and over.
Maybe this was the peace I needed, because in that water I saw a truth:
Girls like me who see and feel the pains and problems of the world don’t
make sense to people. So maybe we’re meant to be alone, or only with
people exactly like us.

---

I’d thought that the Emmas and their friends made sense to me, but, as
we hung out, I realized we had nothing in common.
No, this wasn’t the complete truth that I saw in the murky waters,
Marvels and Oddities journal.
I’m not supposed to lie to you, and here I am letting a boy come in
between you and me.
I also saw the truth of Emma Phillips and Adam.
When I saw him at the food court today, looking so cutely rumpled—had
those been splatters of paint on his T-shirt and cargo shorts?—with his hair
up, lifted right off his head in some parts, the wrong parts, and yet also
falling into his eyes, I’d taken one look at him and bolted inside.
Retreat, Zayneb. He was unattainable. Most likely taken. And supremely
not interested in you. For example, see unanswered text of yours from
yesterday, whereas he talked to (well, mostly listened to) everyone else
around him.
That was what led me to texting him again, Please disregard that last
message thanks, on the way home from the mall.
Because I’d wanted him to know just how much I wasn’t thinking of him.
So I reminded him of it. That I wasn’t thinking of him.
Oof, I’m such an impulsive klutz.
I let the water drain from the sink and wiped the counters. It was time for
Little Women, the one with Winona Ryder as Jo.
I changed into pajamas, undid my hair bun, removed my contact lenses,
put on glasses, wrapped Binky around me, cradled Squish, and pressed play
on my favorite comfort movie of all time.
As Jo traipsed around being allowed to be angry when she wanted to be,
and Amy threw things in the fire during one of her rage sessions, it hit me
that maybe it was because Jo and Amy were considered cute that they got
away with showing their emotions.
Like the girl on the plane coloring so happily.
Was that a factor in me not being able to just be messy me?
• • •
At the part in the movie when Jo’s neighbor Laurie tried to kiss her, my
Adam-and-my-hair fantasy popped right back into my head, churning my
insides.

---

God, I had it so bad this time. I’d never felt this intensity with that brief
thing I had with Yasin, Ayaan’s friend.
Ayaan.
She, too, hadn’t wanted to answer my texts.
She hated my guts.
I stopped the movie and closed the laptop.
Then, even though it was only seven thirty, I got under Binky, removed
my glasses, and closed my eyes.
I didn’t want to think.
• • •
Beeps from my phone woke me. It was Kavi messaging me to hop on
FaceTime.
“I thought I’d do today’s bulletin face-to-face. Since I miss your face,”
she said, her phone far enough away that I could see her sitting crisscrossed
on a chair. The brick wall behind her, with its familiar posters (
LIBRARIES ARE FOR
EVERYONE!
and 
WE READ BANNED BOOKS HERE!
) told me she was in the school library quiet
room, the exact one we hang out in when we have work to catch up on at
lunchtime. The one we call our Situation Room.
I swallowed a pang of homesickness and got busy finding my glasses in
Binky’s folds.
As I propped my phone against the bedside lamp, Kavi peered at me.
“WHOA. YOU’VE TRANSFORMED. Is that really you, Zayneb?”
I slid my glasses on, sat up on my knees, and twisted to look at myself in
the mirrored cabinet door above the headboard.
My Fenty makeup was still on, subtle and flawless. My dark hair,
echoing the dark frames on my glasses, lay sexy and curly around this
perfection. I was in pajamas, but . . . still.
“Doha does this to you,” I said, sinking back into the bed, deciding to
swallow the murky-water bitterness from earlier.