Chapter 47
47
I survived another day.
Saliha’s family showered me with warmth, encouraging pep talks and delicious Bangladeshi food. I smiled and nodded and reciprocated the tight hugs, but I was constantly aware that it was my own family who should’ve been comforting me in this way.
‘Just look at this tragedy, Zara,’ Saliha piped up, pointing to the TV, making me snap out of my reverie. ‘If there’s anything we should be crying about, it’s this .’
We were lounging on the sofa with Saliha’s parents, watching Kal Ho Naa Ho , a heartbreaking Bollywood romance film. It was a classic. They couldn’t believe I hadn’t watched it before.
‘When your weekend includes seeing Shah Rukh Khan, you know it’s going to be a good one,’ Uncle Begum said enthusiastically, then turned to me. ‘You’re going to remember this movie for the rest of your life. I’m glad we’re watching it with you.’
‘Just wait till the next song comes on,’ Aunty Begum added with a sly look. ‘I’m making us all get up and dance to it.’
Saliha cheered and I covered my face with a hand.
‘You and I never got to finish movies in the past,’ Sal said, cuddling into my side. ‘It’s great that you don’t have to run off before your curfew. I like that we get to keep you.’
I never felt like a burden here. The Begums made me feel cherished, loved. It was an effort for me to hold my emotions in.
‘It’s so lovely having you here, Zara,’ Aunty Begum said warmly. ‘Our home feels alive again! I thought having five children was enough, but three of my daughters are married off and busy with their own children most days. And my son is living out at university. The house was starting to feel so empty.’
‘That’s because this one,’ Uncle Begum said, pointing at Sal, ‘prefers to sit quietly and scroll through her phone rather than socialize with her parents.’
Sal gave him a hard look. ‘I talk to you plenty, Dad. Can’t be having our dramatic heart-to-hearts every day.’
I didn’t think Sal realized how lucky she was …
The way they spoke to one another – it was so wholesome. As busy as her older siblings had become in their lives, they always came back to their parents’ home with love and joy in their hearts. It was true that the Begum household was becoming quieter as the children grew up and moved out, but on the weekends that they all got together again, their laughter could be heard from the end of the street.
My chest ached. Because as much as I loved being in this house, it wasn’t my reality. It was Sal’s.
‘This is really nice,’ I whispered to Sal. ‘It feels like … family. I know I’ve said this a million times already, but thank you so much for everything.’
‘If you thank me again, I’m going to pinch you really hard.’
I laughed, then jumped as my phone started ringing loudly.
It was Aisha baji. I’d ignored her for long enough. It was time.
‘We’ll pause the movie until you’re back,’ Uncle Begum assured me.
When I was in Sal’s room, I answered the call, dread ticking inside me like a bomb.
‘What were you thinking, Zara?’ Aisha baji cried.
All the emotions exploded at once – shame, sadness, anger.
I sat on Sal’s bed and took a deep breath to steady myself for the onslaught on my character and life.
‘You have no idea how awful this is,’ she barked. ‘It’s making you and our whole family look so bad.’
It went on and on. And I decided to zone out for most of it. Apparently, my family didn’t understand that this was something I was going through in a far more gruelling way than any of them, that it was my face that was plastered on the internet, that the last thing I needed was for them to make me feel any worse than I already did.
‘I’ve spoken to Mum, and she told me that Dad kicked you out. His reaction is understandable, but don’t give up hope. Maybe if he sees how sorry you are, he’ll let you come back.’
‘ His reaction is understandable? ’ I spat. ‘You’re the last person I’d expect to say that. Especially since you’ve been the most affected by his shitty patriarchal views.’
Silence.
‘Would you like to know what I want? What I think is best for me?’ My voice sounded so mature and calm I barely recognized it. I sounded like a woman. ‘To never go back to that house.’
Aisha baji must have noted the change in my tone too, because she didn’t even bother to argue with me on my decision.
Shortly afterwards, I called Farhan bhai, finally responding to his endless missed calls. I beamed with pride when he told me that Jashan had catered incredibly well and that their schedule was booking up quickly now, but I could tell from his voice that he wasn’t able to celebrate wholeheartedly because of everything that was happening with me. He also told me off for my lewd, irresponsible behaviour, but in a gentler way, and he tried to make sure I was doing OK. I got off the phone to him quickly, feeling a fresh wave of shame. He’d expected better from me, and his disappointment was crippling the little self-confidence I had preserved till now.
Mum and Dad hadn’t bothered to reach out, to find out where their daughter had gone, and I wasn’t the least bit surprised.
Imran tried calling multiple times, but I wasn’t answering his calls or messages any more; Saliha had mentioned that he was now texting her for updates. Karim, on the other hand, hadn’t tried to get in touch once. I decide to block his number, taking away his ability to reach out even if he wanted to.
I took a moment to calm my breathing, my fingers digging deep into Sal’s soft duvet.
Speaking to my siblings had been exactly as I’d expected: they’d only worsened my panic. They had reminded me that I would always be connected to this incident now. Things lived forever on the internet, which meant I would never move on from this …
Monday came, and it was back to school.
I didn’t know whether it was better to be left with my dark thoughts in Sal’s room or to deal with the gruelling gossip at school.
Sure enough, the moment I entered my first class, everyone’s eyes seemed to latch on to me. The whispers hissed around me like snakes …
She kissed Karim Malik.
If she can get with him, I bet I can too.
How could he leave Chloe Clark for her?
The first few lessons of the day passed by in a haze, as did everything else. I simply wasn’t mentally present in my life any more. Saliha would nudge me again and again to get my attention. Perhaps it was a survival mechanism, so that my sadness wouldn’t destroy every single part of me. Apparently, there was still something inside me that longed to live.
‘Hey, Zara,’ Imran said, cutting the lunch queue so he could stand near me.
No one reprimanded him. They simply didn’t have the guts to. He was a good friend to have for times like this; people could gossip as much as they wanted behind my back, but they wouldn’t dare to cross me if I had him by my side.
‘Hey,’ I replied simply, then looked away, signalling that I wasn’t in the mood to talk.
‘How’s it going?’ he continued, not taking the hint.
I shrugged dismissively.
‘Good. What about you?’ Saliha said kindly, making up for my rudeness.
‘All right. I was wondering if I could speak to you, Zara?’
‘Maybe later,’ I replied, not appreciating the keen eavesdroppers around us.
‘Sounds good.’
I finally looked up at him properly.
He was wearing a green bomber jacket and a black beanie hat with his hood lifted over it. He looked like the perfect model for a JD ad. He’d never looked at me with such tenderness before. I felt the sudden urge to run my fingers through his neat black beard, across his sharp jawline.
I looked away quickly, blinking the images away and scolding myself. I was in the midst of dealing with an international gossip scandal because of being intimate with Karim Malik, and here I was, unable to control my thoughts for another guy mere hours later …
What on earth was I doing?
We got our lunch and entered the hall.
I could sense everyone’s gaze fixed on me. I wished it could be like old times, when barely anyone noticed me. My eyes were red and swollen from all the crying, my hair was a greasy mess, and my face was devoid of all life and colour. I looked exactly as I felt, and I didn’t want anyone to look at me.
I’d noticed some people taking sneaky photos of me during lessons, and it had pushed me further into an anxious spiral, thinking of all the people online who’d be dissecting me in my depressed state. But I’d deleted all social media apps from my phone – the less I knew, the better.
Saliha guided me to a table. She sat next to me on one side and Imran on the other. They chatted away like normal, catching up on everything from A levels to gyming to university prospects. Thankfully, neither of them mentioned anything related to Karim Malik.
After some time, Hania came and sat opposite me, her sister and friends joining her. It was becoming a full table. My insides clenched with discomfort.
If these people had come here to get the latest gossip directly from the source …
‘Hey, Zara,’ Hania began awkwardly. ‘I hope you’re doing OK. I’m sure you already know that I’ve been through something like this before. Obviously it was on a smaller scale, but pretty much everyone in my life saw my photos and heard about the incident. I just wanted to let you know that people do move on from the gossip. Your life isn’t over. Just hold on.’
She stretched her hand out across the table. I looked at her and a painful lump formed in my throat. I reached for her hand. She squeezed it and, to my surprise, I felt a little better. Hania had been through exactly what I was experiencing and had made it through to the other side.
It was a moment of solidarity and sisterhood that touched my soul.
‘At least you got caught with Karim Malik,’ she continued. ‘I kissed a prick from our ends who got so dramatic when we broke up that he burned the teddy he won for me at our local funfair.’
Saliha snorted first. And soon we were all laughing.
I felt loads lighter.
The rest of lunch went by surprisingly pleasantly, as did the remaining lessons. I was getting used to the stares and whispers, and realized they didn’t have as much power over me when I had such a good support system.
At the end of the day, Saliha and Imran walked me home. It was like having bodyguards.
‘Can I speak to Zara alone?’ Imran asked Sal.
Saliha looked at me. I nodded. She handed me her house keys and then turned to Imran.
‘Don’t keep my roomie for too long, and definitely don’t annoy her.’
When she was out of range, Imran chuckled. ‘Gettin’ revenge for the time I iced you out, huh?’
Despite myself, I smiled. ‘No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just not in the mood to speak to anyone much these days.’
We walked in silence for a while. Imran steered us to the local park.
Despite the glaring December chill, it felt refreshing to be outside. So many of my childhood memories danced before my eyes: sitting on the seesaw and swings with Aisha baji, running around wildly with Farhan bhai, him teaching me how to ride a bike, having a picnic on our floral blanket and eating Mum’s special homemade kebab rolls with my whole family.
It was another life – another girl.
If I had known back then that my family would disintegrate in the way it had, I would have treasured every single moment deeply. But I had experienced it all with the innocence of a child who believes things will always be the same.
‘There’s something you should know,’ Imran said. ‘I’ve had a crush on you since that time I found your library card last year. Dunno if you even remember that.’
I turned to him with raised brows, surprised that he even recalled the moment that had stayed with me.
‘I do remember. I didn’t realize you did.’
Imran smiled. ‘A part of me wanted to start talkin’ to you then, but somethin’ stopped me.’
‘What?’
‘Not sure exactly. Maybe nerves?’
I punched his arm playfully, feeling the solidity of his biceps. ‘Yeah, right! I’ve seen how you chat up literally every girl. That sounds ridiculous coming from you.’
He ran a hand over his beard and grinned. ‘I’m being serious. The way you looked at me just felt like you were able to see right through me, like none of my moves would even work on you. It felt … different.’
‘So, different scares you?’
‘Nah, it doesn’t scare me exactly. It’s jus’ outside my comfort zone. But I had it in my mind that I’d get to know you at some point.’
‘And that point is now?’
‘I’m hopin’ so,’ he replied, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable. ‘I’d really like to.’
The nerves in his voice were obvious, and I found it endearing. Light rain began to fall. I felt it settling on my cheeks and forehead. Instead of answering him, I asked, ‘Do you mind the rain?’
He shook his head. ‘We’re Londoners, ain’t we? We’re used to it. Do you?’
‘I’m starting to really like the rain and this cold weather. It’s grown on me.’
‘Now you wanna tell me your personality’s too dark and depressing for me to get to know?’ Imran said with a smirk, removing his bomber jacket. ‘That I won’t be able to handle it?’
‘You really won’t be able to.’ I frowned and let him place the jacket over our heads to keep us safe from the rain as it got heavier.
We were in our own little cocoon, locked away from the world and its light. I looked up at him and swallowed.
‘I understand your darkness,’ he whispered, ‘and you understand mine.’
This could have been it, I realized. My first kiss. If I hadn’t met Karim, perhaps this is how it would have happened … and perhaps it could have gone perfectly right …
I found myself laughing. ‘I’m in the middle of an online love-triangle scandal with two of Britain’s top influencers. If anyone captures photos of me standing like this with another guy, literally two days later, my reputation is truly done for.’
He shrugged. ‘Reputations are overrated.’
We grinned at each other. And I felt it. The electric chemistry, the deep understanding, the broken pieces of our souls reaching towards each other to heal.
He took a small step closer and leaned down to kiss me.
The trauma of what had happened last time caused me to jerk back. Imran instantly tensed up too.
I took a deep breath. ‘I know everything online is making it look like I’m open to casually making out, but I’m not. I don’t really do this … stuff. That was actually my first kiss and I –’
‘It’s OK, I get it,’ Imran murmured. ‘You may have had your first kiss with that guy, but your last will be with me.’
My breath hitched at the confidence and fire in his voice. I knew exactly why he was saying this because I’d experienced such certainty before. It had felt so right with Karim – but I’d learned the hard way about getting swept away with emotions.
‘Look, Imran. You may think it’s the right time for us, but I don’t. I’m going through so much in my life at the moment.’
Now that we were all alone, I felt comfortable enough to finally touch his face, to trace my fingertips across his smooth cheek, his coarse beard, working my way down the jawline I’d admired so many times.
I loved the feel of him.
‘Can we just be friends? That’s what I need right now.’
He nodded, and I could tell that he truly meant it. ‘No more icing out, OK? And maybe we can start studying together again.’
‘No more icing out,’ I promised. ‘And yes to studying together.’
We looked into each other’s eyes for a long time, and I felt like I could’ve stayed right there forever, hidden from the world under his jacket, wrapped in his charm and magnetism and warmth.
He’d heard me speak truths I’d never shared with others, he’d been there for me when no one else had, he’d shown me my life had value when everyone else had made me feel worthless, and it had bound me to him in some inseparable way. Whatever our futures held, I knew he’d always own a small piece of my heart.
‘I’m visiting my dad’s grave now,’ he whispered after a while, removing his jacket and letting the light and soft rain touch us once again. ‘Will you come?’
‘Of course.’
He held my hand and led the way.