A Single Lifetime | Novella

Fajr rubbed her eyes, smudging her glasses with a fingerprint and reached into the saunf bowl. “One can never go wrong with saunf–” Fennel Seeds. “–and sugar.”

“Fudge, you eat that food combination like rice,” her mother said from the other room. Zain had beaten Sura yesterday in their tie-breaker game. And Sura wanted Fajr to avenge her so the two had logged on to practice.

“It’s not even real food…” her mother continued. Her voice became clearer, indicating she was standing right behind Fajr. “You still have that username?” Zareen asked over her daughter’s shoulder.

“It’s still FudgeCake,” she confirmed. “Ironically, I still think fudge cake is bitter and makes me nauseated.”“That’s a good punishment for you if you lose to Zain,” her mother suggested.

“Shhh...don’t say it out loud!”

On her laptop screen, a message popped up from her only two friends.

ZealousZain: HEY, FUDGE. GIVE ME BACK SURA. SHE PROMISED WE COULD PLAY BEFORE THIS EVENING:(

FudgeCake: Why on earth are you yelling at me, Zain Azhar? And, Sura doesn’t belong to you. Don’t talk about her that way, you’re better than this.

ScillitatingSura: Zain, I told you we were practicing. And, he didn’t mean it that way, Fudge. We usually play at this time on Thursdays.

ZealousZain: FIRSTLY, I AM NOT YELLING, I AM TYPING WORDS. IT’S NOT MY FAULT YOU HAVE A WILD IMAGINATION AND CAN HEAR RANDOM THINGS ALL THE TIME. SECONDLY, FINE, PRACTICE. FAJR DEFINITELY NEEDS IT.

FudgeCake: Caps-lock=yelling. And, what do you mean I need practice? I’m just as well as you.

ZealousZain: IF SURA GETS TO USE SENSELESS ABBREVIATIONS AND STUPID CAPITALIZATION THEN I GET TO USE CAPS-LOCK ONLY. THE RULES OF CAPITALIZATION FREAK ME OUT. YOU KNOW THAT!

ScillitatingSura: we’ll play later at night, you whiny man child. Now, get off this game, we’re practicing.

ZealousZain: :p

FudgeCake: What is that supposed to mean?

ScillitatingSura: Zain...please, stop…

ZealousZain: :p=STICKING TONGUE OUT

FudgeCake: If that didn’t make me laugh I’d call you a petulant child, Zain.

ZealousZain: OKAY, AND GOOD LUCK, FAJR. YOU CERTAINLY NEED IT.

ZealousZain has left the chat.

FudgeCake: How dare he?

ScillitatingSura: you can get back at him through Scrabble. now, let’s play.

The time both Fajr and Sura started to get agitated by the Scrabble board was when the computer started giving them letters that didn’t add up to words. Fajr opened another tab and messaged Sura.

FudgeCake: I think this is a sign to quit. None of the letters are good.

ScillitatingSura: agreed. see you later then<3 just between the two of us, give him hell from me…

FudgeCake: But I’ll remember to go easy on him so there will be a Zain left for you to beat.

ScillitatingSura: you’re a good friend,Fudge<3

“If she doesn’t show up, we’re statting without her,” Fajr announced upon entering. Sura told them to get started and set up at their usual table at the end of the library.

“Uh, this is the library and Sura works here part time, so I think she’ll be here,” Zain whispered, hauling a bag of one Scrabble board and a billion little letters.

“We agreed to start at 4:00 p.m.”

Zain spun, trying to keep his voice low between the labyrinthine bookshelves. “We agreed to meet at four. Not start. Learn the difference, Miss Minutes.”

“That’s an awful nickname,” Fajr said, crossing her arms. But it rang a bell and Fajr was left wondering where she had heard it. Perhaps on TV…

“Do you prefer Sargeant Seconds? Or, Lady Hours?”

“Not bad,” she said with a shrug as they walked silently through the rest of the quaint library. Zain got out the board and as soon as he started pulling out the small pouches full of letters, Fajr perked up, “Where did you get that many letters? One board doesn’t–”

“I have more Scrabble boards because one doesn’t have enough letters, you ask this question every time.”

“Sorry…” Fajr said with a stone-cold stare. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“What makes you think that?” Zain said, his voice small and unrecognizable all of a sudden. “I love playing Scrabble, why would I not want to?”

“You love playing Scrabble with Sura, not me.”“Because we’ve never played before and I’m sorry if I’m a bit irritable,” he said, pulling out a chair.

“May I ask why?” Zain pulled his sleeves over his wrists. Winter was almost here and the rain pouring outside was the harbinger of cold weather. “Don’t tell Sura but I don’t really like libraries.” Fajr gasped so loud it echoed in the large ceilings. “Please, elaborate.”

“It’s got nothing to do with the books or staying quiet. Believe me, I actually love solitude,” he confessed. “But sometimes it gets so quiet that I start to hear every little thing.”

“Like what?” Fajr said with curiosity.

“When someone pulls out a chair and it scratches against the floor or when a book falls open and you can hear the pages turning,” Zain listed with a shudder. If Fajr didn’t know Zain, she would’ve laughed at him or called him weird, like everyone else did. But he always had trouble with public spaces and social situations.

“We could’ve done this somewhere else,” she said.

“I can hold it together for a while,” Zain said, squaring his shoulders. A smile tugged on his mouth that he tried to hide by pressing his lips together. “Besides, I think it’s going to be a fairly short game.”

“Really?” Fajr whispered, as the two sensed Sura approaching. Not because of the sound of her footsteps, but because of the smell of her perfume.

“Ready, everybody?” she sang as she sat down and flipped open the notebook they used to keep score.

Zain leaned in and jokingly said to Fajr, “It won’t take me long to knock you off the board.”“We will see about that,” Fajr shot back and they began.

Fajr was bouncing her foot underneath the desk, trying not to rattle the Scrabble board. She was brought back to the game when Zain said, “Any day now, Nervous Nancy.”Fajr met his gaze and pushed up her glasses. “I’m not nervous. I was just thinking.” And she was, but not about the game. Fajr shuffled her letters around, attempting to out-do Zain’s work.

“Pulchritude,” Zain echoed as Fajr made the word and Zain shuffled around with his letters. “You know, that word was derived from Latin.”

“I knew that,” Sura answered, studying the scores. Sometimes Fajr wished she had learned Latin along with them. The two nerds had begun learning it years ago and even wrote letters to the school board saying it should be a proper subject.

“I thought you said it wouldn’t take long to knock me off the board,” Fajr recalled, elbows on the table with a grin.

Zain growled, massaging his temples as he repeated the word under his breath. Then came: Heresy.

“Rats!” Sura said, slightly shaking the table. “He got you...almost.”

Fajr made a face, turning to her friend. “Thank you for having faith in me,” she said with a huff.

“Hey, it’s not me, it’s the scores,” she said and turned the notebook so they could all see.

“Oh, whatever,” Fajr said, falling back in her chair.

“So, you give up?” Sura and Zain said simultaneously.

“Never. If I lose, I lose with...honor,” Fajr replied and made the next word. Hubris.

“Good game,” Sura said to Fajr as soon as Zain left. Fajr just smiled in reply. “I’ve got to tell you, that’s the closest you’ve come to beating him.”“You’re my friend, you have to say that.”“I’ll give you the scores, you can go over them one more time,” she promised just as Fajr’s phone buzzed. “Is that your mom?” Sura added.

“No.” Fajr smiled at the screen and turned it towards Sura. “Can you believe this was twelve years ago?”

Sura let out a low laugh at the picture of the two of them sitting side by side on the sidewalk of an ice cream shop. Neither of them had started wearing hijabs yet so their hair just blew in the wind.

“I remember I got ice cream all over my hair because it was so windy and…” Sura trailed off cringing at the memory.

“Don’t you mean, you got hair in your ice cream?” she corrected. Fajr turned back to the screen and frowned. “Twelve years, huh?”

“Pfftt…” Sura said, shaking her head in disbelief. Fajr stared at their younger-selves and she was filled with nostalgia and longing, the longer she stared at the picture.

“As the saying goes, time flies when you’re having fun,” her friend finished, trying to look Fajr in the eye. Fajr stared at a spot on the table, ignoring what Sura had said. “Where’d all the time go?” she said, barely audible and Sura wasn’t sure whether she was talking to her anymore.

Sura just shrugged, slinging her bag over her shoulder. But Fajr snapped out of her trance and a furrow appeared between her brows. “Where do you think all this time goes?”

“Are you okay?” Sura asked, trying to be gentle. “You’ve been looking bewildered lately. Something wrong?”

“I have?” Fajr said, acting surprised. “I didn’t realize it. Let’s go.”

“We can talk if you want,” Sura offered but Fajr was already on her feet. Before her friend could say anything, Fajr stopped and turned. Sura let herself believe that she was imagining it, but Fajr’s eyes were bloodshot and her breathing had fastened. “I just wish it would slow down.”

“What would? Life?” Sura confirmed. “Because, you’re not the–”“No, not life,” Fajr said, chuckling without amusement. She twisted the end of her hijab around her finger. “Time. I wish it would slow down.”

“Fudge, that’s kind of the same thing. I mean–” she cleared her throat as quietly as she could. “–they’re both tied together. Kind of parallel to each other, if that makes sense.” “Exactly,” she answered, taking a step back. “I wish time would slow down so that I could enjoy every little thing about life.” Fajr wasn’t whispering anymore and once she realized this, a blush of humiliation worked it’s way up her cheek and she exited the local library.

And, life and time aren’t tied together, she completed her thought internally. I can still live in a time bubble.