Misfit in Love (Saints and Misfits #2) - S. K. Ali Page 0,43

back.

Proof: his recent laugh when Muhammad joked about Haytham’s “dates” with me and the comment he made matching us to Westley and Princess Buttercup in The Princess Bride.

Uh-oh.

That’s why Nuah’s not responding to my texts. That’s why he’s not looking for opportunities for us to talk, like I always am, and like he used to whenever he was around me before.

That’s why whenever I look at him when everyone’s talking, he’s not paying any attention my way.

Why he doesn’t even look at me now as we sit in this rounded booth, me at the end and him smack in the middle, beside Khadija next to me.

I cut a piece of my pizza, but when I raise it to my mouth, I realize I can’t eat. It feels strange, like there’s something burbling inside that’ll push the pizza right out again.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I slide it out and see it’s a text from Muhammad.

Meine aap ka paigham dair se dekha. Meine Nuah ko mangni ki mubarak baath de di. Bohat bohat mubarak ho behna!☺

This looks important. Obviously because it has the word “Nuah” in it.

I look up for help deciphering this dispatch—maybe a waiter?

None of them look desi.

Layth. He’s sitting across from me eating a slice of pizza calmly while Haytham and Nuah discuss their theories of how you make deep-dish pizza, with Khadija interjecting, laughing, at their more ridiculous suggestions.

But I don’t know Layth’s number.

I could just pass him my phone? I clear my throat and lean forward.

Which makes everyone at the table fall silent for some reason.

I don’t care, I decide. I’m good at ruses.

“Layth, can you translate this Urdu for me? But like text me the meaning? It’s for this thing for the henna party tonight.” I glance around at everyone after passing Layth my phone. Haytham nods his head, and Khadija smiles.

Nuah looks at his pizza and then at Layth, who’s peering at my phone.

Layth reads and then—ugh—immediately looks at Nuah. And then at me.

He touches my phone and then pauses. “Can I get your number from here?” And when I nod, he scrolls and swipes and then picks up his phone and texts me before handing my phone back.

Saw your message late. I already congratulated Nuah on your engagement. Congrats sister!☺

Chapter Nineteen

Muhammad’s phone rings and rings.

I’m in a stall in the pizza place bathroom.

“Janna, what’s with you? Calling incessantly? I was driving, just dropped Sarah at her appointment. Can you guys pick her up at the hotel after?”

“What did he do when you said congrats?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nuah,” I whisper into the phone in case someone comes in. Someone like Khadija. “Tell me everything.”

“He got quiet. And told me to shut up. And then I said, no seriously, man, I’m excited about you guys getting together.”

“And then what happened?” I whisper again.

“He just kept saying shut up. Then Haytham came up to us in the prayer hall because he’d finished his sunnah. Why?”

“Nothing.” I stare at the flyer on the back of the stall. It says Glow Nights Party All Night with DJ Mousefire, Girls Dance Free, General Admission $15. “Okay, bye.”

I hang up and stare at the flyer some more before leaning my head on the stall wall.

Why is this becoming unbearable? My ability just to talk to Nuah?

I scroll through all our messages after he went away to college, and it’s a long scroll that actually starts when I got this new phone for Eid-ul-Adha last year. Before that, the stream of messages in my old phone was ironclad proof of the slow-burn buildup of Me and Nuah, the Love Story.

Wait.

I slow my scrolling.

There are a lot of messages in the beginning. Silly things like What is a nerfherder? I figured you would know this geeky thing I encountered (from me) and Yo English nerd, if you (if I) say that that’s someone’s “shtick” does it mean something negative or can it be positive too? (from him) to Before I pass out from eating so much, Eid Mubarak! (me) and I posted my #BlackOutEid pic and you didn’t say a word. Pout on (him).

And then it peters out.

The petering out started in March. No, maybe even a bit before.

I guess I didn’t notice because we hung out so much at Christmas break. And I thought we were both busy with school—because I was. Getting all my things in before graduating.

We still liked each other’s posts and he still watched my Snapchat and IG stories, like I did his. And we