AAHIL
“How long will it take?” I ask, reversing the car into the empty parking space.
She stares at me. Blinks. “Uh . . . I don’t know?”
“What subject are you applying for?” I don’t face her for some reason. It feels like a violation of privacy to look at a niqabi. Or maybe it’s because of what she thinks I did. Eyes can tell a story even when the lips don’t.
“English,” She says.
“Language or Literature?”
“English Lit,”
“Okay,” I nod, wondering how we went from arguing to awkward in the matter of half an hour. “Go, then. I thought you were getting late.”
“Aren’t you going to come with me?”
I swivel my head towards her. “No. Do you want me to?”
I thought she was onto the whole ‘I can take care of myself’ thing. Apparently not.
A second passes in silence and then she shakes her
