Inaya was so excited she felt like screaming and dancing through the halls.
Following the announcement, Inaya spent the entire week as if in another world. The annual honor’s program was next month, and as was the school’s yearly tradition, the Future Hope scholar would be the keynote speaker at the event.
Inaya spent nearly every evening after the announcement surfing the internet for the best school speeches in recent history.
Mrs. Ford had personally given Inaya copies of previous Future Hope scholar speeches, and Inaya kept the small stack in a folder on the desk in her bedroom. She had planned to read through each of them, but when she saw the name Raymond Dirks at the top of one paper, she lost her enthusiasm.
If there was one thing that could disrupt her peace of mind so completely, it was the sight of his name—or the sight of him.
After their talk in late December, Raymond never asked Inaya about what she’d decided to do about Mrs. Ford, but Inaya sensed that he knew she hadn’t gone through with telling Mrs. Ford the truth. And she could tell he was disappointed in her.
As if he has a right to judge me, Inaya thought angrily. But the indignant feeling would pass quickly as the true source of her anxiety choked her.
Despite becoming Muslim, Raymond still chose Lyrica over her—even though Lyrica refused to even consider the idea of accepting Islam (or any religion) for herself.
A few weeks ago, Chris told Inaya that Raymond finally divulged to Lyrica his conversion to Islam, and now, conveniently, Lyrica’s hatred of religion wasn’t as strong as before…though she wasn’t religious herself.
“I think he’s going to ask to marry her,” Chris had joked.
The words were like daggers in Inaya’s heart, and she couldn’t even meet her father’s gaze she was so upset.
“Really?” Inaya had said, unable to muster even the slightest pretence of excitement at the news.
“Well, he says there’s no other way for them to be together.”
Bull, Inaya had thought, annoyed. But she knew it was just her jealousy talking.
Inaya half considered telling Raymond that a Muslim man wasn’t allowed to marry an atheist, but whenever she was tempted to confront him, she decided against it. Her motives were not pure, so she should hold her tongue until they were.
But now that Inaya had the Future Hope speech to think about, she could forget about Raymond and focus on more important things.
A part of Inaya knew that she was walking on thin ice with this whole honor’s program business. After all, how likely was it that she could keep something as major as this a secret? Past Future Hope scholars were announced in local newspapers and posted on YouTube. And this year Mrs. Ford implied that the coverage might be even more.
“She’s full of hot air,” Lyrica had said a few days ago during lunch. “She exaggerates for the sake of attention.”
The remark hadn’t been related to the Future Hope Scholarship national news coverage that Mrs. Ford had shared with Inaya, but Lyrica’s remarks did offer Inaya a different perspective on her dilemma.
Yes, it was true that scholarship winners were regularly announced in local and national news—in print, on television, and online. But how popular were these stories really? Even YouTube didn’t pose any real threat because most videos there were practically nonentities.
Even Inaya’s own internet search on her high school revealed that the school was relatively unknown. The most hits any of its YouTube videos had didn’t exceed five hundred, and many had been posted years ago.
Besides, Veronica wasn’t a television watcher. She didn’t read any print newspapers (other than in the doctor’s or dentist office). And she went online only to check her email. Veronica didn’t even have a Facebook account because she felt the social medium was inappropriate.
So what was Inaya worried about?
If by some rare chance her mother happened upon the news story, it would probably be years old by then and hence irrelevant. By that time, Inaya would likely be wearing hijab full-time again, and she could simply explain to her mother how difficult covering had been for her as a teenager.
Her mother would be upset, Inaya imagined. But admitting to a past sin was much easier than having it staring you right in the face—through your mother’s own eyes—in present tense.
Yeah, Inaya could live with that possibility…if she ever crossed that bridge at all.
But for now, Inaya had to find some convincing reason to stay with her father in mid-April. Then she could sneak off to the annual honor’s program—without her mother (or father) knowing anything about it.