that everything was happening so fast and so rushed that it almost made my head spin. He said it was love at first sight, and even though I’d never believed in such a thing, I believed him.
He’d told me all of these nice things about his Janna: how they met – which was so strange I might add – and how they spoke for the first time. He’d told me about her blush, her dark eyes and very pale skin. He talked of her very long and silky, dark-as-the-night hair–his words, not mine–and he went on and on about her so much that, at some point, I thought I’d fallen asleep because I spent so much time only listening and not talking.
I had no idea how he had seen her hair, though. I thought all Muslim women covered their hair? Whatever.
Our pilot announced that we were about to land, and I felt my heartbeat going crazy, while my heart itself was going crazy with fear. My hand moved on its own to my chest, clutching the silver cross that was hanging from my necklace for dear life.
“Our Father, Who art in Heaven...” I started praying in soft whispers, my eyes closed tightly as fear crept into my insides along with my heart and mind. My breaths tangled and I started having a mini-panic attack. If it wasn’t for Joseph’s hand squeezing my free hand, I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through this landing.
I couldn’t wait to get off that plane, but I had to take a few minutes to make sure, that after so many long hours sitting there bored and scared at the same time, that I looked decent, at least. After all, I was going to meet a princess shortly, and most likely a royal family as well.
Joseph wasn’t happy with me forcing him to wait until I had dressed before we left the jet. He’d told me to do it as we were still flying, half an hour before landing, but there was no way I was going to move around in that thing as it flew through the air. It was just a no-go for me. He had to wait.
I dressed in a long, short-sleeved summer dress with a loose skirt. The V-neck dominating the top of the dress wasn’t that low cut. It looked nice; I always felt good wearing navy blue, as it was my favorite color in clothes. I let my hair fall over my shoulders and down my back in straight locks, then added a slight blush and a little bit of light, rosy lip gloss.
When I stepped out of the jet’s bedroom, Joseph was standing by the door, anxiously waiting for me. I wanted to tease him about how love had turned him into a nervous mess, but decided to take it easy on him. He looked on edge enough.
“Marie,” he smiled. “You look beautiful.”
“Why, thank you, Big Bro. You don’t look so ba-” I was cut off by him offering me a piece of cloth, a baby blue one.
“Would you please wear this?” he asked.
“What it is?” I frowned as I took the cloth from him and looked at it. “A scarf?”
“Well, yeah. Kind of,” he replied.
“But I’m sure it’s really hot out there. I won’t need it,” I pointed out.
“Uh, it’s not to be put around your neck, it’s, uh...it’s to cover your hair with.”
“What? You mean like Muslims?” I asked in shock. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I almost yelled when he didn’t reply.
“Marie, please, just put the thing on,” he sighed.
“Did they tell you to force me into wearing this?”
“I’m not forcing you into wearing anything. It’s fine if you don’t want to, but it’s just a sign of respect.”
The anger and upset I’d been trying to get over since my brother told me about his upcoming wedding started to boil over again as I fisted the stupidly soft material in my hand.
Why should I show respect by covering my hair? Why were women supposed to cover their hair anyway? It was utterly stupid, and I refused to look like their laws had anything on me. I refused to be manhandled by anyone like the rest of the women here; it was not going to happen.
“Good, because I’m not wearing the stupid thing,” I spat and passed him after throwing the thing to rest in his hand again, making my way to the exit.
“Are you coming?” I looked over my shoulder, and the sight of