The Ideology of Ideal Gases

*I did my research after selecting Columbia University for Ahlam, so guess what, Criminology isn't even a major there, so we're going to pretend it is my friends. Also Charlie's doesn't exist*

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It was my last day full day at home before I would head back to campus. Mihirmah had been in Turkey for winter break and was coming back tomorrow so I'd miss the window to see her and I was really upset about that. It had been a while since we'd met up and my eyes were aching to see her ugly face.

After the whole party fiasco, I had locked myself in my room for the next whole day, trying to make sense of the broken shards of my brain that were reluctant to fit together no matter how hard I tried. The only thing that brought me out of my depressive state was the excellent news Daneen smacked me with.

Daneen and Azaan came over again and called a family meeting. We all gathered in the living room and got a little antsy because, well, we're an impatient lot. I studied Daneen's beaming face and Azaan giddiness with suspicion and as soon as she had our undivided attention she spilled the tea.

She was three months pregnant.

My mother and I sprang up and shrieked. Then we hugged each other. And then shrieked some more and hugged Daneen with extra care. My dad and Azaan did this bro hug type of thing and we all rejoiced with some ice cream cake.

After being unable to understand one of the most important people in my life, I was withered. I wanted to never make the same mistake again. I wanted to read people, understand them. I was majoring in Criminology and minoring in Sociology with aspirations to become a forensic criminologist.

With my undergraduate degree almost completed, only a year left, I was looking for internships, and had found one from Pennsylvania State University. It would be an even bigger move but I was willing to make the change. After my internship would be completed, I'd enroll in graduate school to receive my bachelors.

My life was going on a straight line path, like the property of an ideal gas, the only thing I didn't realize was that ideal gases move in random straight line paths.

///

It had been a full month since I'd been back at Columbia. I was working my ass off for midterms  and was hoping that the result would show it. Astur, Ismael, and I were gathered around one of the tables in the back of the dim library poured over our books after classes. I suddenly had a great idea and decided to call Palwasha too. I had noticed that she didn't socialize much and I deeply admired her and wanted her to join our closely knit group. I texted her, and after some persuasion, she finally agreed to come.

10 minutes later Palwasha ventured into our corners, cheeks and lips pink from the New York cold, heavy coat draped around her shoulders which also displayed her draped brown wavy hair. Her doe eyes widened at the sight of Ismael and she covered her face in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry for my dad." She pouted unknowingly and Ismael, who had been staring at her in awe up until then reddened.

"No, I mean, it's ok, don't worry about it." He held her gaze as Astur and I squealed internally. Then he snapped his eyes away just as rapidly and shifted closer to the bookshelf and immersed himself in Biochemistry once more.

Palwasha took a seat next to Astur and pulled out her own books and surprisingly she was studying Microbiology. I grinned smugly to myself for finding the similarity between their majors and then drowned myself into my own major, which unlike theirs, was actually interesting.

3 hours later, as the 4 of us packed our materials into our bags and left the library chuckling about some iconic vines we'd seen over the years. Palwasha did the best impression of the "yes" girl and I doubled over laughing. It was 6 and already dark but I was feeling hot cocoa and some creepy storytelling so I suggested going to a local bookshop/bakery named Charlie's.

"I don't mean to impose." Palwasha stated meekly and I slapped her arm.

"You're no imposter." I glared at her and tugged her arm along. I could be wrong but I swore that I saw a different sort of glint in Ismael's eyes, a happiness that I hadn't seen in a long time and my heart lurched almost painfully.

We walked to Charlie's, boots leaving prints in the snow, Ismael and Palwasha getting caught up in a debate about whether or not Harry Potter was overrated as Astur and I discussed the authenticity of astrological signs. We were the deep shit kinda people, and we took our conversations seriously. In fact, we were still discussing Harry's role in the series by the time we exited Charlie's.

We also started talking about the other characters in the series, such as Draco, Luna, and Ginny.

"I know so many people were rooting for Hermione and Harry, but I loved Ginny with all my heart." Palwasha admitted.

Ismael, a devout Harmione shipper, rounded on her quickly. "Seriously, Ginny had zero character."

"That's where you're wrong, she went from being a shy, overshadowed girl, to being a strong and bold woman, who knew how to make assertive decisions. She liked him in the start, and she loved him in the end, till the end. Just because two people are best friends, doesn't mean they'll ever get together. Not every friendship between a boy and girl needs to be romanticized." Palwasha critiqued.

It feels funny when you get your own words thrown back to you. It's as if you're sitting inside a snow globe, and everything is muffled, but it's ok, it's safe and sheltered, and then suddenly, the glass shatters and you're drowned by the same water that used to be your heaven.

It's funny how life works. People you never knew becoming your blood, and people you doted on, become a painful remembrance you wished you could erase. But they were etched onto your skin, your brain, your heart and you scrubbed and scrubbed and it only made everything red, and it hurt, but not as much a rejection and betrayal does.

At least I don't cry anymore. At least I can think about it without letting oceans escape from my eyes. My oceans have run dry.

And that's the first part of healing.

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"You were unsure of what pain was worse--the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will"-Unknown.