The dorm room was quiet, save for the low hum of Zaid’s laptop. He was hunched over it, scrolling through pages of weightlifting equipment, lifting belts, weightlifting shoes, gloves, he was trying to figure out the cheapest way to start his new ‘quest’. The price of 500 dinars was motivating, but the initial cost to get started was a problem.
The door creaked open and Bassam walked in, his shoulders slumped. He tossed his bag onto his desk with a heavy thud, the sound making Zaid look up.
“That’s it,” Bassam announced, his voice flat and tired. “Last time I go home for the weekend. The only way I’m going back is if my uncle comes here and drags me home himself.”
Zaid minimized the browser window. “Whoa, what happened?” he asked, turning in his chair to face his roommate.
“Nothing. It
