December 2011
When life gives you lemons, throw them at the mean people and hope it gets in their eyes.
- Unknown
“Wake up! Wake up you lazy cow, it’s 6 o’ clock!” my sister Sara yelled.
“ Wha.,” I mumbled sleepily.
Sara rolled her eyes and splashed a cup of water on my face. I shrieked so high I’m sure the neighbors heard.
“You die today!” I yelled at my sister, my voice hoarse, as I leaped from my bed. She ran for her life downstairs cackling at her victory, the little devil.
Oh my god, why does my bed have to be the right temperature the exact time I have to wake up? I stumbled like a drunk to the bathroom, bleary eyed.
“Why can’t you wear this, honey? It will look better than those rags you’re wearing. You should be ashamed that your father buys you a ton of clothes and you only wear 3 shirts from them! I’m disgusted. Get out of my face before I call your dad over here,” I overheard my mom yelling to my sister.
God, why couldn’t she shut up for a full 5 minutes? Literally, every single morning yelling for half an hour. I slammed the bathroom door and I could still hear her voice, muffled.
As I scrubbed my face I could see my acne was improving. Yes, I thought. By the end of the year I should have a flawless face. As I got dressed, I thought of my classes that day. Math first, P.E. second, English third, and Orchestra last. Yes! P.E.! The only ‘subject’ where I can prove that girls are better than guys in something. I don’t want to brag but I kick butt in P.E. I groaned at the thought of Math. Math = Torture. I brushed my long dark hair, section by section. I though the contrast looked great against my light tan. Then I took the comb to take out the tangles. My parents never let me cut my hair and probably never would. It took me a whole 10 minutes to brush them out because it was so long, down to my lower back. My small eyes look smaller and worse today because of the light bags under my eyes. My dark brown eyes only revealed their true color in the sparkling sun. I fastened my lock and key necklace around my neck for luck. Down for breakfast my mom was complaining on how I never ate my fruits.
“Well, mom I told you before I NEVER eat them so don’t waste your money,” I said rolling my eyes, irritated.
“Don’t do that devil movement with your eyes, you sin! Amani , habibti you need brotein. Your face is full of stains. I will tell your father and we’ll discuss it tonight at dinner,” she said with pursed lips. Kay, something I forgot to mention is I’m half Egyptian so basically we pronounce P’s as B’s. It’s hilarious when you think about it. Thank god I don’t do that or my life would be officially over in school. I grabbed my breakfast and went to the T.V. My favorite morning show I liked to watch was called Kick Buttawski . You can thank my brother for that. He’s 7 and all he wants to watch Kick, Barney, that retarded train show I forgot the name of, and Ben 10. Currently, he’s obsessed with Ultimate Ben 10 like I was obsessed with Twilight in 5th grade. Like print outs of the main characters faces under his pillow and muttering “Ultimate Supermonkey!” in his sleep. Weird.
“ Ok, Amani, I want you to go to Omar’s teacher today and see how he’s doing. See if you can bring him any worksheets or books or something. I don’t like him sitting on the couch all day like a cow watching T.V. and being fed like a wild beast.” Translation: I don’t’ want him in front of the T.V because I want to watch last night’s Jackie Chan movie.
“Ok, ya ya I will,” I said my eyes glued to the T.V. screen. She said something else I couldn’t calculate and a second later I was like “ What?”. Big mistake #1. You could have practically seen steam coming out of her nose. She stared at me with blank eyes.
“ I can’t wait till your father wakes up,” she said calmly but her eyes flaring with black flames. “ I’m sure you and him can have a nice long chat.” She gave me a forced grim smile. My face fell at the thought of me and my father having a ‘chat’. He would take away my iPod and make me deactivate my Facebook account. Worst of all, he’s be displeased with me. I hated it when my father was upset with me. It left me depressed and him ripped from inside to see his oldest daughter who was supposed to be the wisest act this way. I grabbed my purple Jan sport bag and closed the door with the tip of my sneaker. I paused and looked at one of my shoes. Scribbles, hearts, faces, and notes were all over the front and sides. I smiled to myself. I couldn’t wait to see my friends after the weekend. I walked through my compound to my large blue bus. It wasn’t very comforting because it obviously wasn’t the same yellow bus back in the States. There was no long comfortable cushiony seats. Instead, replaced by separate small seats that made your butt numb and sore after 30 minutes of sitting on that old rock.
“Good morning, Bus monitor!” I said brightly. I plastered a fake smile on my face. Maybe if I was nice to her she’s stop calling my mom every month. I’m not exactly a bad girl. She just thinks I am because I actually have a life and like to chat and socialize like actual human beings. She’s Filipino which I’m not saying is bad but everything I say is pretty new to her. She seems surprised that I’d said such a normal thing. What? Was she expecting a couple of bombs or something? She eyed me with her small beady eyes.
“ Good morning,” I repeated. No response. Just more staring. Then she said something in Filipino to the bus driver that I couldn’t understand. The bus driver blabbered something back. She cackled her small elf-like laugh. Well, I honestly can’t put my finger on that ‘elf’ part because it’s elf LIKE, but elves are cute. And my bus monitor was anything but cute. Try scary. She was about my height which was about 5 ft, 4, with 3 chins and 4 layers of stomach. She has pale skin that really makes her ‘nice’ *cough cough* features pop out. Not. Was she still upset about that trick I did last week? Oh come on, I thought. Sticky notes on her back weren’t really bad. But what was written ON the sticky notes was bad. I chuckled at the thought of it. It was pretty easy. Do something like this: Say “Hey, bus monitor !” and give her a good slap on the back with the sticky note. Done and done. Then laugh loudly. And not on purpose, because trust me you will laugh either way. Whatever. I pulled out my IPod and searched for a Nicki Minaj song that would put me in a good mood. Ahhh, I thought. I touched a song and immediately the strange rap filled my earphones on full volume. Then I relaxed and waited for the ride to be over.

I got off the bus, the sandy Arabian breeze blowing my hair away from my face. I felt like Fergie from her music video “ Glamorous” in the scene where she gets off the plane and her hair is flowing like mad. I walked with my iPod tucked in my back pocket, my headphones blaring with music. I took a deep breath as I looked at the school’s logo: “ American International School- Riyadh, Excellence since 1963” I decided to go through the short-cut to the library, because the last thing I needed was to go through the long way where all the high school guys sat in the morning and laughed. Although they didn’t really laugh at you, I would always get a feeling that they were. I walked into the building completely relaxed and hurried on.
“ Good morning, Amani,” greeted Mrs. Laurie. She smiled at me. Ahh, I loved Mrs. Laurie. Though she was strict and also had taught me in 5th grade, (so basically she knew my weaknesses), my heart felt great warmth for her. She was helping me all the time in Math even when I didn’t understand.
“ Hi, Mrs. Laurie,” I said brightly. I smiled and this time I actually meant it.
I continued walking, feeling better. Then I saw someone. It was Mrs. Bolinda. She always had this sour look on her face, as if she’d been forced to eat lemon SourPunks which were dead nasty. All the 8th graders complained about her during music time on how she hated them all and gave them detention for just smiling. They always imitated her voice, so I could guess she had some Brit. accent. She stopped.
“ Excuse me, what do you think you are doing in the building?” she asked coldly, and sure enough there was the scary accent.
“ Um.. I’m taking a short cut to the library,” I answered. I felt slightly frightened. She made my heart stop.
“ No, no. You don’t go through a short cut. Get out. What’s your name?” She asked.
“Amani,” I answered scared of her next word.
“What school are you in?” she asked.
“ This school,” I answered confused. “ Oh, sorry. I meant middle school!” I felt stupid.
“ Middle School? Well, you should know the rules, Now hurry on and get out!” she barked. I had a confused look on my face.
“Don’t you make that face at me or I’ll send you to the principal’s office,” she threatened.
Bolinda?? What a stupid name, I thought. I headed to the library.
“Hey!” My friend Iris greeted. Iris is one of my closest friends. She was foreign, from Greece so she had this strange accent, which I thought was pretty cute. We did all sorts of crazy stuff together, even though she’d just come a few months ago. We’d even made girl code names for our crushes. I know it sounds pretty silly, but hey, if you don’t want people to know, that’s what you gotta do. She had light brown hair which was so soft I envied it and soft brown eyes that were actually noticeable.
“Hey,” I replied. “ Omg Mrs. ‘Bolinda’ busted me this morning and I almost got sent to the principal.
She just looked at me then started giggling. Typical Iris.
Then I spotted Mika. Mika? What was Mika doing in the library so early? She’s was always late.
“Hey, loser,” I greeted her. That was pretty normal. Mika looked up from her fan club and smiled. She didn’t have one but that was what I liked to call it, because she always had these girls following her everywhere. It totally annoyed her.
“ Hey fala7a,” she said back. I laughed. Fala7a means farmer in Arabic. The 7 is pronounced like an “h”. I am NOT a fala7a but it’s pretty funny and I don’t mind. Mika was African- Canadian, with short curly black hair. She wore glasses and had white teeth. When she puts on lip-gloss, (Which she rarely does) she’s be very pretty. But she’s much too sophisticated to make up a code name for boys, because she NEVER crushed. Well, there is this guy called Do, we nickname him Ginger, and he’s Korean and honestly, I think they would make an awesome couple. Seriously, there is chemistry. But were just horsing around, we never mean anything. I just love hanging out with them because we talk about everything. We talk about books, grades, people, and just love to laugh. And you know the saying: Laughing is the best medicine.
I scurried to math just in time, before Mrs. Laurie counted me tardy.
“Ok, today class I’ll pair you up and you’ll finish this investigation. Twenty- five percent of your grade by the way, SUMMATIVE,” she said. Groans and moans filled the classroom. “Ok, Amani and Brayden,” she hollered. “To the back.” Then she continued pairing up the rest of the class. Brayden?! Aw crap, I thought. He’s that idiot who had dandruff in 6th grade. He was stupid, obnoxious, and absolutely sick. So I headed to a back table and plopped myself in to a chair glumly. Then he walked over.
“ Ok, hey Amani,” he said. I looked at him, annoyed. I looked straight into his eyes and noticed something I hadn’t noticed before. His eyes were this gorgeous sharp green and his teeth masked with blue braces. His hair was dark and all over the place, but not in a hobo-ish way. My heart suddenly started thumping and I totally forgot about the dandruff. Oh no.
“ Thirty more minutes until the dance,” he said excitedly.
“ Yeah,we miss like, fifteen minutes of class,” I smiled. It was so easy to make small talk with him without it being awkward and lame.
“Are you going?” he asked.
“Nah, can’t go,” I replied. Yup, sad story of my life. No driver.
“Oh, too bad. I’m taking Hanna to the dance, you know just as friends,” he said quickly. I laughed. That was so cute.
“ Her brother is taking Lilly, so I have to go with them and stuff,” he said as he rolled his eyes as though this annoyed him.
“Double dating,” I smirked. He laughed at that.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he said, smiling. A blush crept up my neck. He was so sweet and nice. That proves the saying never judge a book by its cover. Ok! Crap! Stop it! What are you doing, Amani? This is Brayden, for god’s sake. The kid with the dandruff.
“Ok, people going to the dance, time to go!” Mrs. Laurie announced. Brayden eagerly got up. “Bye!” he said. I nodded in reply.
Later that day I couldn’t concentrate on anything except Brayden’s mesmerizing green eyes. The next day in the cafeteria, I grabbed a quick bite, and headed for Music.
“Amani! ” I heard someone call. I turned around to see Heidi slowly walking over. I put on a grim smile. “Hey!” I said.
She put on a forced smile like it actually hurt to do it. As if it took actual energy to do it. That lazy cow. Heidi was who I thought was my friend in 6th grade and totally ditched me or say hated me. Earlier this year, we’d had a fight on Facebook, where I was actually trying to help her. She was obsessed with her 11th grade boyfriend and couldn’t care less about her grades. I’d obviously suggested she’s wake up a bit so she can get better grades but she returned my favor back by some nasty name calling. As usual, we’d get in to fights then a week later we’ll patch up things without knowing it. She twirled her thick black hair in a high bun and pulled her skin-tight skinny jeans back up. Then, pulled her tight shirt over her small belly and put her hands on her hips. I was really in a good mood still because of the other day and was really hyper.
“Guess who my new crush is,” I sang as I twirled around. Heidi smiled that amused smile like a happy mother watching her child dance.
“Who?” she asked. I honestly thought I could trust her because she was after all my advice fairy (What I like to call her) Little did I know that was not true.
“Guess,” I smiled.
“ Hmm… Dave?” she guessed.
I made a face. “ Ew. No” He was Brayden’s best friend. I used to have a crush on him in the 4th grade.
“Wait.. Brayden?” she guessed.
“Oh my god, how did you know?!” I exclaimed.
She smiled knowingly. “A lot of girls have a crush on him. You know Missy used to go out with him in the beginning of the year?”
I gaped at her. Missy was so ugly! Damn. I never knew that, but anyways I never know any of the 7th grade gossip until like, after it with 5 months. I didn’t know what to say. Later that day, when I was on Facebook, a chat message popped up.
Lola: Everyone knows you like Brayden.
My heart drooped into my stomach. Then it started pounding really hard I thought it was going to get bruised. Lola was Heidi’s close friend, but fatter. But she was popular so who gives?
Amani: Um.. What??
Lola: Someone heard you in P.E. talking about him.
Crap. It was true I did talk to Heidi about him, but there was no body except her and me on the bleachers. My brain started wrapping itself around the truth. Heidi told everybody.
Amani: Um..not really. I just like his eyes.
Lola: LOL sureee….. ;)
Lola is offline now. If you want to send her a message, send her one and she’ll see it the next time she comes online.
God kill me now. I felt my face and it felt like a hot pot right off the stove. He would obviously know. Gossip at our school reached everybody after exactly 5 minutes. How would I face him tomorrow? She would tell EVERYONE. Emphasize on the EVERYONE. The next day, I got up from bed regretting the day I was born and wishing I had some frozen coke. The day followed through normally. That’s strange. Later in Arabic that day, Lola came up to me.
“So, what happened between you and Missy,” she asked, with a hint of amusement in her eyes.
My brow furrowed in confusion. “What?” I asked curious.
She threw a quick glance at Heidi. “Missy told us that you told her to back off from Brayden.”
My jaw dropped to my knees. “ WHAT?!” I shrieked. “ I didn’t!”
“ Brook and Taylor told us that they saw you fight,” she continued. No comment. My eyes and everything in my normal body processes froze. I felt he breath being sucked out of me. There was no air. My eyes shined with unshed tears. I walked away slowly, stunned. Why would she do that? Worse of all, did Brayden know? I may be a girl, but I knew that the worst thing a guy hated was jealousy. The week went on normally from then. But I knew the worst was to come. And it did. On a Wednesday night, I’d closed most of the lights so it was a nice and cozy environment to rest in and checked Facebook on my iPod.