How To Stop Waiting

"So, anyone up for some ice cream after school. I feel dejected, small, and sad." I sipped my chocolate milk and stared at Yusuf who was sitting at Caroline's table with narrowed eyes.

Mihirmah crushed her soda can with just one hand. "Yes. And don't worry, Ahlam, we all feel this way."

Ismael put his head down. "That ugly ass bitch stole our best friend and we're just sitting here like edgy, moody teenagers?"

"Well guess what, Ismael, we are edgy, moody, teenagers." Safaa groaned and clutched her stomach in pain. She ate too many pizza slices and now she was paying for it drastically.

My phone suddenly dinged and I checked to see who had just texted me. Yusuf.

Stop glaring at us like that. Caroline thinks it's disturbing, and the rest of us agree.

I gasped and showed them the text message, they each grabbed it and passed it around.

And then we put on our most pissy faces and collectively glared at the table across from us.

Yusuf just sighed, and turned his back on us.

Little did we know it wouldn't be for the last time.

///

I was angrily restating the events of the past few weeks to my sister who dreamily stared at her ring in contemplation.

"DANEEN!" I finally yelled in annoyance.

"WHAT!" She shouted back but it was more of a statement. My expression hardened and I stormed out of her room in fury.

I sat on my bed, and sucked in the tears. I refused to cry over something as petty as this. I was not Starkeisha.

Ok, maybe a little.

But that was besides the point. I was so afraid. What if this was the end of our friendship with Yusuf? The end of my friendship with Yusuf?

No. I shook my head as a laugh tumbled from my lips. This was Yusuf, the beautiful human being who never raised is voice at anything, who was filled with compassion for each living creature. Who loved us enough to never leave. I trusted him.

Once again I pushed the dangerous thoughts to the back of my head and let AP physics overtake it instead.

Friendship is solely based on love and trust. If you don't trust someone, then you don't deserve to love that person either.

///

The scores were tied and we were on the edge of our seats with anticipation. Ismael jogged across the court, face screwed up in focus and determination. Safaa, Mihirmah, Yusuf, and I grabbed each other's hands unknowingly.

And then with blurs of red and green jerseys, shouts and protests, Lakewood High School scored and we jumped up screaming in happiness, leaping over the bleachers and enclosing Ismael in a gigantic group hug.

Once when we were 7, we waited anxiously for our parents to show up at important events. Games, parent teacher conferences, tiny little accomplishments. And eventually we got tired of waiting, our legs weary and hearts aching, with hope, that maybe, just maybe they'll be there.

And when the thought came crashing in that we were just defined by our grades, by our academic achievements, we started giving up. We were there for each other instead. Them at my poetry slams and publishings. Us at Ismael's basketball games, or at Yusuf's soccer games, at Mihirmah's swim meets, and at Safaa glowing in Science Olympiad competitions.

We were what we had. We were what we cherished.

Ismael pulled away, tears shining fresh on his face, eyes twinkling with pride and adoration, mirroring our own.

And later we went out for milkshakes to celebrate his victory.

"You crushed them dude!" Yusuf fist bumped Ismael as I scooped out the whipped cream with my straw.

"Eww, stop that Ahlam, it's disgusting." Safaa made a face at me and I laughed evilly.

"Never!" I declared standing on top of my seat.

"Ahlam, no" Yusuf facepalmed.

"This milkshake, this beautiful evening, I toast in the name of Ismael Murad, who has wowed us once again with his spectacular performance!" I toasted.

"And furthermore-!"

"Ahlam. Get down right now."

I stopped. And stared anywhere but Yusuf, shocked at the harsh words that came from his mouth. He had never spoken to anyone like that, and had only ever encouraged my weird ass antics. I sat down and looked down, afraid that tears might fall down my cheeks if I made eye contact.

"You're 18, not 8. Behave at least somewhere. The other day Caroline saw you enact a scene from Romeo and Juliet, in the middle of the hallway where everyone could see you. Do you know how embarrassed I was?" He explained timidly.

His words cut me. I felt like I was being ridiculed, a child being scolded by their parents. I felt my eyes and nose constrict in pain and felt the first teardrop fall. Screw my sensitivity. I got up and grabbed my things, wiping my face as I left the diner.

There's only so much a person can handle all at once.

///

"You forget about how empty you feel until you are surprised that your body will still spill out blood" - k.p.k