Things never go as planned

"Ya shai6ana," I said as I watched Gobgoba type in Zbaide's password to his facebook account. "Where'd you get his password from?" 

Gobgoba gave me a sly, devious look and said, "never underestimate me."

"Ok, ok," I said hurriedly. "Go to his friends list."

"Msta3yila 3ala shofat el 7abeb!" 

"CHUB!" I flushed slightly. "I'm just curious!" 

"Embala," she said sarcastically with a snort. "Ok, this is him." 

We both edged towards the screen closer waiting for it to load and we were not disappointed for he had so many pictures. Gobgoba opened up an album. The first picture was of some AC Milan players. The next was also of a player taking a shot at the goal .. The next 10 were also of soccer players. 

"Ok we get that he likes AC Milan," Gobgoba mumbled flicking through some more random photos until we stumbled upon a photo of a man sitting in a tent with his hands outstretched above some coal to warm himself. His eyes were pitch black, framed by thick black eyebrows, a sharp nose and a broad crooked grin. Gobgoba let out a low whistle. 

"Shda3wa Gobgoba, he's okay," I said blandly lying as I rolled my eyes. 

"Yal chathaba!" she exclaimed as she grabbed my face and brought it closer to the screen. "Fech khair 7i6ay 3ainich fe 3ain el 9ura o golay mu 7ilo!"

"Mu 7ilo," came my muffled voice as I ogled at the man in the picture. 

"Mo muhim," Gobgoba said letting go of me. "Love is not based on looks alone!"

"Love mara wa7da 3aad!" I said as I sneaked looks at the picture. Gobgoba who just caught me smirked at me folded her hands across her chest. My face flushed and I slammed the laptop shut. Gobgoba raised an eyebrow in a teasing way and if it were possible my face turned a darker shade of red. 

"FINE! a3tirif .. he is 7-7ilo! Shwaya bas.." I added. "I mean mafe shay zood bas he's okay ya3ne--" 

"Maida!" Gobgoba said interrupting my rambling. "Shut up." 

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Three weeks have passed and thankfully the subject of Hamoor was not brought up again. I was so busy with quizzes and upcoming midterms that I didn't even have time to consider the whole idea. That was until my mom came to my room one night. 

"Haa Maida ma 5ala9tay?" My mom asked as she sat on the edge of my bed. 

"Embala mama," I said as I flicked a page of a book I had in my lap. "Bas ga3da araji3." 

"Yala sahalat enshala," she said. 

I could tell that there was something she wanted to tell me so I shut my book and looked at her questionably.  

"Yuma e7na sa2alna akthar 3an Hamoor Al Flani," she said answering my unasked question. 

"Hamor?" I said blankly. I had pushed him so back in my mind that I was surprised when she brought him up. 

"Ee shfeech? Ana wboch mo gaylenlich etfakreen eb mawtho3 el zawaj?"

"Yuma men9ijich? Ana ma abi atizawaj!" I exclaimed readying myself for a dispute.  

I expected her to argue with me, press the subject more on me but I was taken aback when she simply got up and left my room. I don't know why but a  bad feeling slowly crept upon me. I couldn't focus anymore with what was what I was reading so I snapped my book shut, switched off the lights of my room and hid under the covers. But I couldn't sleep that night. I kept tossing and turning on the bed angry with myself. If this was what I wanted, I asked myself, then why was I feeling this way?

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I woke up the next day still with that awful feeling, and if that were not enough my day was full with a series of unfortunate events. The day began with a battle with my wild hair that just refused to be tamed, I arrived late to my quiz which I would guarantee getting an F in it, and I spilled coffee all over my shirt which was why I was back home. 

I walked into the living room to find my father watching the news. "Salam." 

"Hala fe Mayooda," my dad replied, grabbing the remote and switching the T.V off. "Ta3alay baghait akalmich." 

Not surprised at all I plopped down beside my dad on the couch and he put his arm around my shoulder. "Ya benti, tara ana gelt 7ag omich matkalem el nas. Ana adri al7en 3alaich thaq6 wayid eb derastich o abi laman ye9fa thehnich etfakren bel mawtho3 3adil. Tara ohwa weld 7alal shareech, weli methla ma yenrad. Ana ma a'39ibich 3ala shay bas abech etfakren bel mawtho3 zaain. Tara entay al7en kebartay mentay zqera .. ma boga shay o takmlen 22 inshala. Ana abech taw3ideni etfakren bel mawtho3 eb jadiya, haa benti?"

"Bas baba," I said in a small voice. "al7en el zawaj 9ar 9a3ib. Kela mashakil oo sowalif etkhari3 nesma3 3anha."

"Oo kaana ana oo obooch," came my mothers voice from behind us. Apparently she's been eavesdropping. "She7lailnaa sa3edeen o metfahmeen o n7ib ba3ath. Oo shofay banat 5altich merta7en el 7emdila." 

"Fine, fine!" I surrendered. I could tell this was a lost battle. "Bas bshar6. You give me all the time I need oo my answer will be final."  I looked at my mother in the eye and at that moment the telephone rang. 

"Alow," my mom answered in a formal tone. "Ya halla , ya halla eb Om Hamoor." 

Speak of the devil! I started to gesture to her with my hands for her to put the conversation on speaker but she gave me a silencing look. 

"Walla e7na eb 5air..wentay bashrona 3an a7walkum? el 7eemdila, el 7emdila. Sam7ona Om Hamor adri 6awalna 3alaikum," she said letting out a nervous laugh. "Bas tadreen wagt emti7anat bel jam3a wel bent lail7en etfaker," then my mom went silent, nodding and mmming every now and then. "La ma fee mani3 ya Om Hamor enhum eyt3arfon 3ala ba3ath shwaya .. Bas kahi yame 5aleni ashof meta teftha tadren al7en wagt emt7anat.." 

FATHYA!! FATHYA 7AG SHENO!!

My eyes were about to fall out of their sockets. What about our deal we just made moments ago! Had it just fluttered suddenly out of the window! I stood up in front of her shaking my head and waving my arms. 

"Yuma Mayda meta 3indich wagt fara'3 3ashan eshofich el walad wetshofena?" My mom asked with a sweet voice. 

I just started at her disbelievingly. I looked back at my dad for support but he just mouthed to me not to embarrass her. I could not believe the injustice of it all! 

"3ogob bacher esa3a 6," I replied bitterly. 

"3ogob bacher el sa3a 6 eynasibkum?" my mom said to Om Hamoor. "5air enshala 3ayal... Ala yej3al feh el 5air...Ma3asalama." 

 

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