Chapter 16 Dina
Dina
Sixteen days to the match
I somehow manage to avoid Maya for the rest of the dawat, but that doesn’t mean that my mind doesn’t circle the last question she asked.
You really think I haven’t thought about you since I left?
She asked it with so much earnestness that it took me by surprise.
I’ve always assumed that Maya was too busy living the life of a famous footballer to even remember me.
I’ve imagined that she was making new friends, dating other football players …
living it up and forgetting all about me, while I was the one left to pick up the pieces of our relationship.
But now, I wonder.
Still, I don’t want to spend any more time thinking about Maya than I have to.
No matter what her life looked like when she was gone, she still left.
So, instead of obsessing over Maya and our conversation, I decide to throw myself fully into the football team.
We still have our upcoming match, and the days are counting down fast. We finally have a name, but no kit to speak of.
Which is one of my first major problems to solve.
Deen suggests trying to find some kind of a sponsor who would fund our kit, but considering we’ve never played a match, I doubt that anybody would consider sponsoring us. Aisha, finally, suggests the best idea: if I could find some plain T-shirts, we could paint over them to resemble kits.
I end up calling Ma, hoping she can give me a list of discount shops where she used to get our cheap clothes back in the day.
‘Did you know Maya Alam was at the dawat the other day?’ Ma asks almost as soon as she picks up. Leave it to her to be late on the news cycle, despite literally being at that dawat.
‘Yeah, I saw her there. Ma, I called because—’
‘And she’s now retired. Who retires at twenty-eight?’ Ma sounds scandalised by the idea.
‘Well, football players retire early. They can’t play until they’re sixty-five.’
‘What’s she going to do now? She doesn’t even have a degree.’
‘It’s not like a degree got me and Deen anywhere,’ I say.
That must make Ma consider her words because she’s silent for a full minute, during which I finally get a chance to ask about her discount shops.
‘I can text you a list. Why do you need it?’
‘Cheap clothes. I’m not really flush with cash these days. Thanks, Ma. I’ll—’
‘You haven’t come home for dinner the last few days,’ Ma cuts me off, like she can tell I’m trying to hurry her off the phone. ‘I wanted to hear about … your new job.’
That surprises me. I was sure that Ma was happy that I hadn’t come home, that she had an excuse to avoid talking about my coaching position, which she definitely did not want me to take.
‘I’ve just been busy,’ I explain.
‘And Deen is apparently so busy these days that he barely eats at home anymore,’ Ma grumbles, and I can read the sadness behind her words.
Just a few weeks ago, Deen and I were spending all our time with her, probably far more than was normal. Now, he is busy with the renovations, and I’m caught up in this football match. Meanwhile, Ma is home all alone, no Baba to keep her company these days.
I sigh. ‘Do you want to come to some of the discount shops with me? You could show me where they are and—’
‘Yes!’ Ma says enthusiastically before I can even finish my invite.
That’s how I find myself shopping with my mother the next day. Something I haven’t done since I was thirteen years old.
‘I’m looking for T-shirts. Plain ones!’ I say for the umpteenth time, while Ma holds up a floral dress to me, revelling in how great the colour would look against my skin tone.
The two of us are in one of many charity shops we’ve been to today.
This one has a mish-mash of decor; from painted masks on the walls, all the way to rainbow-coloured bunting.
‘Why do you need so many plain T-shirts? You already have five.’ Ma nods at the shopping bags in my hands.
‘It’s for … a project,’ I lie.
Ma sighs, squeezing the dress back onto a rack brimming with clothes. ‘It’s for your football team, and you don’t want to tell me. Like Deen doesn’t want to tell me about how he’s renovating the restaurant without my permission.’
I freeze halfway through sifting through the clothes rack. Ma has always been astute; I don’t know why Deen and I thought we could get away with lying to her and avoiding her.
‘We just … don’t want you to be upset. Deen knows how you feel about the restaurant, and I know how you feel about football.’
Ma studies me for a second and I brace myself for one of her signature reprimands about how she’s our mum and she knows what’s best for us. Stuff that Deen and I have heard a million times over the course of our lives.
‘I know your baba was the dreamer in our family, but I don’t want you and Deen to shut me out,’ Ma says, her voice soft. ‘The three of us are all we have.’
My cheeks burn with shame. Ma is right – we have been shutting her out.
I can’t even imagine what that must feel like.
Especially when I know she has her reasons for warning me and Deen away from football and the restaurant.
Ma struggled with her own aspirations of being an actress.
She knows what it feels like to have your dreams crushed.
‘Sorry,’ I mumble.
Ma smiles, before turning back to the clothing rack as if our conversation hasn’t even happened. ‘So, how many plain T-shirts do you need?’
‘It’s for a full team, so I need eleven. We’re … going to paint them to make them into a kit.’
‘You’re going to paint?’ Ma asks with a chuckle.
‘Aisha and Thea are going to help, don’t worry.’
By the time we’ve found all the T-shirts that we need, we’ve been going from shop to shop for hours.
I’m exhausted and starving, but Ma somehow still has a spring in her step as we lug our shopping around.
We end up trudging into Buttons, one of the restaurants that we used to go to all the time when Deen and I were younger.
It’s one of the few restaurants in the neighbourhood that has stuck around and, of course, Baba used to be friends with the owners.
The place is packed, but we manage to find a small booth in the corner. It’s only when we squeeze in and I’m looking around that I spot the familiar face of Maya on the other side of the restaurant. She’s with both of her parents, the three of them laughing and joking without a care in the world.
‘Shit,’ I mumble under my breath. I shouldn’t be surprised – Maya used to come to this place all the time. We even dragged our parents here to meet each other properly back when we were dating.
‘Don’t curse, Dina,’ Ma says, almost automatically, flicking through the menu.
‘Maybe we should go somewhere else,’ I say. ‘This place is too crowded and way too noisy.’
Ma just frowns, not even looking up from studying her menu. ‘You can go if you want. I’m eating here.’
I sigh, slinking down in my seat and ducking my head so Maya won’t spot me. Maybe we can eat and leave without her even knowing I was ever here.
But when Ma finally looks up from the menu, her frown deepens. ‘Why are you slouching?’
‘No reason.’
‘And who are you looking at?’ She turns all the way around and her eyes light up when she sees Maya and her family across the restaurant. She starts to wave wildly – so wildly that I’m sure half the restaurant sees her. And, of course, Maya and her parents do.
‘Ma, leave them alone,’ I say, but it’s too late. I can only watch in horror as Maya shuffles over, a hesitant smile pasted on her lips.
‘Hi, Auntie,’ she says, her eyes quickly flickering over to me before travelling back to Ma. ‘It’s nice to see you.’
‘Maya, I missed you at Isra’s dawat the other day. And Dina never told me that you were back.’
I groan. Ma has always been obsessed with Maya, and I’ve never really told her how bad our break-up was. She still thinks that Maya moved away and so it made sense for us to stop seeing each other.
‘I’ve only been back for a few weeks,’ she says. ‘I’m coaching our old school’s football team now.’
‘Wow.’ Ma actually looks impressed. ‘Dina’s coaching a football team too, did she tell you?’
Maya gives me another fleeting glance. ‘Yeah. We’re actually going to be playing each other. Our teams, I mean. In a few weeks. It should be … fun.’
Definitely not the word I would use, all things considered.
To my absolute horror, Ma stands up. ‘I should go say salaam to your parents. I’ll be right back.’ She offers me and Maya a bright smile, before hurrying away.
I expect Maya to scurry after Ma, but she just stands there in front of our booth, shifting from one foot to another.
‘I didn’t expect to see you here,’ she finally says.
‘Yeah, I didn’t expect to see you here either.’
‘Did you go shopping?’ She nods to the bags beside me in the booth.
‘Yes.’ I pause for a beat, then add, ‘It’s for a makeshift kit for my team. We don’t have fancy school funds to get us stuff like that.’
‘Oh.’ Maya actually looks surprised, like she expected a council team gets all of the support that a team like Westbrook does. She looks over at where Ma seems to be having a lively discussion with her parents, before sliding into Ma’s seat and giving me a serious look. ‘Can I ask you something?’
I almost want to say no, afraid of what she might ask me.
The last time the two of us spent more than five minutes with each other, things became too much too fast, and I’m not sure if I’m ready to dig into our past. Especially not here, in this crowded restaurant, with our parents so close by. ‘Um, I don’t—’
‘It’s about my students. Do you really think they’re bullies? Like … were they really being awful to your team?’
I blink at her for a moment, trying to digest what she’s just asked. When I had marched up to Maya at the park, it had been adrenaline pushing me forward. I’m not even sure I totally remember everything that I said.
‘I don’t know. I haven’t met any of the girls from your team. All I know is they were mean to some of the girls on mine, and I … wasn’t going to tolerate that,’ I say. ‘If you’re still offended about—’
‘I’m not. There’s this girl on my team, Laila.
I think … she’s being cyberbullied,’ Maya sighs.
‘I know she’s being cyberbullied. I brought it up to Ms Jacobs, and she talked to her parents earlier today.
Their solution was to make her get off social media, which feels …
unfair. I was just thinking maybe it was some of the other girls on my team, or maybe it’s just nobodies on the internet. ’
‘Sorry,’ I offer, but a tendril of warmth tugs at me. I remember what it feels like to have Maya care for you.
Maya gives me a tight smile. ‘I just wish I could help her.’
‘You looking out for her is already helping,’ I say. ‘You know … there’s this girl on my team. Jade. She’s a social media influencer. Maybe she and …’
‘Laila,’ Maya says when I look at her searchingly.
‘Right, Laila. Maybe she and Laila can talk; she could give her some advice. Jade has so many followers, I’m sure she’s seen her share of hate comments online.’
‘You think she’d be OK helping someone from the opposing team?’ Maya asks.
‘I guess we’ll find out. I’ll talk to her.’
‘Thanks.’ Maya smiles, before slowly standing up. ‘I should probably get back to my parents.’
Maya heads off and, in a few minutes, Ma comes back, looking happier than I’ve seen her in a long time.
The two of us order, and as we chat and eat our dinner, I occasionally look over at Maya, noticing her looking at me too.
The two of us had a normal conversation – one that wasn’t about our past and didn’t erupt into an argument.
Maybe it will be OK to have Maya around here again.