Chapter 18

When I walked into school, I got some looks so I kept my head down — I didn’t want any confrontation. I’m not sure if Sukhi noticed, and I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to make a big deal of it. I put on my biggest, most confident smile when I left her to go to morning form time, but inside I fretted about Jayden dissing me the moment I walked into class. Lisa wouldn’t notice me now that she sat right at the front — obviously to avoid me — so I had no idea what her reaction to my new look would be. She’d probably hate me more.

I quickly scuffed into my chair, my eyes rooted to my table, but soon after the register was called, I learned Jayden wasn’t around when Mark told Rikesh that Jayden had been suspended! Maybe things would get better from today, especially if he wasn’t here. What. A. Relief. I breathed out.

Girls giggled, poking each other in the hallway as I passed, while they stood around moaning about lessons. It might not be about you, I told myself. My stomach tightened when a caretaker muttered to another, “Bet she was forced to wear that …” It was as if someone had pressed the mute button on a TV remote and all the sounds around me were more pronounced. I wanted to scream and tell them it was actually my decision, but what was the point? They probably wouldn’t believe me anyway.

At break, it was hard to ignore the curious ob­servers, whispering and staring while I sat on the field sharing a cookie with Sukhi. Even though I’d thought people might stare, it didn’t make it any easier. I wanted to mention them to her, but then we’d both be looking their way, and they’d know they were bother­ing me. There was no way I was going to eat in the lunch hall today.

In geography, I put my hand up to answer Mrs. Carter’s question, and by the way she observed me, I could tell she was wondering why I was wearing a hijab, but thankfully she didn’t say anything. Jonah David, who sat with me in geography, had smiled as I pulled out my chair. He didn’t comment on it either, but I decided to see his smile as support.

As I headed out of library duty after lunch, my scarf felt loose around my ears, so I stopped to adjust it in the corridor while reading a poster advertising the end-of-year summer fete, the school event of the year, where the whole school and their parents and their neighbors came to enjoy the outdoor entertainment and competitions and stalls. It was going to be the weekend before the summer holidays on 9th July. The list of attractions was longer than last year’s, and it looked much better. Last year Mr. Atkinson had put on a playlist of dodgy nineties dance music. They had loads of stalls selling new and used things, different types of food, inflatable sumo wrestling suit fighting, archery and football penalties. Almost all of Year Seven had turned up, and me and Sukhi and Lisa had waited in the long lines to try out all of the activities. This year they were bringing in actual rides and a proper radio DJ so it would be even more of an attraction for the school kids and people from the local area.

The thought of a big crowd made me shiver. But this was outdoors and in school, not a famous pop concert full of strangers. It would be different, I ­reassured myself, and blocked the panicky thought trying to take over my excitement.

“Hey!” someone thundered behind me.

Before I could turn to see who it was, two hard fists shoved my back with full force. The air went out of me as I went hurtling toward the stairs, landing on my chest with my hands splayed. My heavy backpack toppled onto my head. I’d just missed the top step.

I lay, staring at the stone floor, my heart pumping a trillion times a second. Two black Doc Martens stopped about a millimeter before my nose.

“You silly head-covering Muslim cow!”

I raised my head. Sasha, Jayden’s sister in Year Nine, glared down at me, gritting her teeth. Her best friend Natascha smirked over her shoulder.

“First your lot try and kill us at a concert. You made Jo lose her leg and then YOU get my brother suspended!” she shrieked.

My head pounded. As I pressed my hands on the cold floor to push myself up, a spray of stringy, gloopy spit landed on my cheek.

“That’s what I think of you,” Sasha hissed.

UGH. That was it. I wasn’t going to take this. “You —”

But the sound of shoes thumping away and cruel laughter echoed in the corridor. They’d gone before I even got to say anything. Cowards.

I sat up on my knees and looked around, trying to get my breathing under control. The glob of phlegm was slowly rolling down my hot face. No one else was around. How convenient for Sasha. They must’ve planned it, knowing it’d be quiet outside the library on such a warm day.

I dug in my backpack for a tissue to wipe that racist ignoramus’s germs off me. How was what happened to Jo my fault? I felt bad enough as it was, but I didn’t bomb the concert. Why would I bomb a place I was at? That my friends were at? Why would I bomb a place at all? If this was in our religion, like people said, why weren’t all two billion Muslims around the world blowing everyone up? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

UGH. My raging brain was about to explode out of my ears.

The bell rang. Soon everyone would start pooling in from outside. I had to get to the toilets to sort myself out and redo my scarf.

Mrs. Owen was walking past the toilets just as I pulled the door open. When I called her name, she turned and raised her brows.

“Umm, miss … I, err … need to talk to you about something,” I said.

“Can it wait? I have an important meeting.”

“Erm, well … it’s about Sasha Williams, in Year Nine.”

“What about her?” she said, letting out a heavy sigh.

“She — she … err … attacked me a few minutes ago … because I’m wearing a headscarf … I think,” I said. My words weren’t coming out quick enough.

“What do you mean, attacked you?” she asked, glancing at her watch.

“She pushed me —”

“Are you hurt?” she said, before I could finish.

“Uhh, no, miss,” I said.

“Well, let’s leave it at that for now, and let me know if she does anything else.” She began to walk away and then stopped, spun on her toes and added, “By the way, it’s not the most appropriate place to wear one of those at the moment, is it, Aaliyah? Perhaps you should consider wearing it to the mosque and not at school.”

She strode away, and my mouth properly dropped.

Was EVERYONE at this school narrow-minded? I didn’t even go to the mosque unless it was Eid! Everyone else seemed to be able to wear what they wanted. Why couldn’t I?