When Michael Met Mina (21 page)

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Authors: Randa Abdel-Fattah

BOOK: When Michael Met Mina
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Michael

I text Mina on Sunday night.

Me:

Haven't seen Dad all day, he'll be back later tonight. Tried calling him but he's at some convention on the Central Coast. Better I talk to him face to face.

Mina:

Okay. What about your mum?

Me:

She's with him.

Mina:

Do you think they'll go to the media?

Me:

They're always looking for a story to get them in the news.

Me:

I'm sorry.

Mina:

My dad's been up all night. And Mum's stressed because he's stressed, and he's stressed because he thinks Mum's stressed so everybody's stressed. Why can't your organisation just back off?

Me:

It's not my organisation, Mina.

Mina:

Yeah, I know. Sorry.

Me:

No, I'm sorry you have to go through this. But don't work yourself up. They're all talk they can't do much damage. They get some attention from trashy media and then it all dies again.

Mina:

Meanwhile we just have to toughen up and learn to cope with racism, hey?

Me:

There's nothing in the world that kills me more than the fact that you're in this situation because of my parents.

I promise Mina I'll speak to my parents. They're back late from the Central Coast and so I grab the chance the next morning before school. Dad's at the kitchen bench, eating his breakfast and reading the news on his iPad. Mum's packing Nathan's lunch, and Nathan is eating his toast and watching TV in the family room.

I pour myself a bowl of cereal and sit down at the bench across from my dad. I start eating, trying to figure out the best way to bring up the topic.
Stuff it
, I think. I just have to throw myself in.

‘Dad?'

‘Yep?' He doesn't look up.

‘Apparently a couple from Aussie Values were at a local Afghan restaurant on Saturday night. There was a bit of a commotion about –'

He looks up sharply. ‘Oh, yes! I completely forgot to mention it. Listen to this, Mary. Jeremy and Margaret were at some Afghan restaurant – the same one Andrew busted on
News Tonight
– and there was a scene over the halal food they serve.'

‘Really? What happened?'

‘The usual. Halal or nothing. So we have them on that front. But the best part is that they found out that they're hiring people on bridging visas. They don't have work rights, remember?'

My mum shakes her head in frustration.

‘We can really do something with this, Mary. Expose the rot at the core of this system. These people are in breach of their visa conditions. They've been released into the community on
trust
. And these restaurant owners are happy to exploit them as cheap labour.'

‘Dad,' I interrupt. I take a deep breath.

‘Yes?'

‘Please, could you leave this one alone?' My eyes plead with him.

‘What do you mean?' He's genuinely confused. ‘We have to speak out, Michael. Bad things happen when good people remain silent.'

‘They're not allowed to work, Dad. Is it so bad if somebody helps them out?'

‘They should have thought of that before they decided to break the law,' Dad says seriously.

Mum nods as she cuts up Nathan's sandwich.

‘How can this possibly make any difference to you? You're getting results in Jordan Springs, you've got some more members. Why can't you show some freaking mercy?'

Dad is taken aback and Mum, raising her eyebrows at me in dismay, says, ‘What has this restaurant got to do with you?'

‘The owner's daughter is in my class.'

‘I thought they were refugees too.'

‘Yeah, they came here from Afghanistan. So?'

Mum seems surprised, indignant even. ‘And they can afford Victoria College?' She shakes her head in disbelief. ‘That only makes things worse, hiring cheap labour when business is obviously highly profitable.'

‘For God's sake, Mum, Mina's on a scholarship. Don't worry, they're not going to overtake you on the class ladder.'

‘What's gotten into you, Michael?' Mum stares at me, clearly stung by my words.

I take a deep breath. ‘It's one restaurant. I'm asking you to please let it go.'

Dad fixes his eyes on me. ‘If it means that much to you, I'll talk to the others,' he says calmly. ‘But I can't promise you anything. This is bigger than us now, Michael. And the personal shouldn't matter when it comes to what's right and wrong.'

‘Right and wrong is
always
personal.'

Mina

Emily stops Mum and me in the hall on our way out to the car on Monday morning.

‘Is everything okay?' she asks Mum with concern. ‘You didn't sound like yourself when you called to cancel.'

‘Everything is fine,' Mum says, smiling at her. ‘Thank you, Emily.'

‘Are you sure?'

‘Yes, I am sure. I must take Mina to school now. I will see you soon, okay?'

‘Okay,' Emily gives her an uncertain smile.

We rush to the car and I scold Mum.

‘She does not need to know about our problems,' Mum says firmly. ‘I am sick of problems. She has her problems and
I
will help
her
. We will deal with this by ourselves. Understood?'

I stare out the window. ‘Suit yourself,' I mutter. I'm sick of everything.

*

I go to school with my stomach in knots.

I'm opening my locker when Michael grabs me from behind and hugs me.

‘
Michael
,' I say under my breath, wriggling my way out of his embrace. I can't help but laugh though. ‘People will see.'

‘Relax, there's nobody around. Anyway, so what?'

‘I can't. And no, I'm not ashamed of you, so don't even start that up again.'

He laughs. ‘Yeah, yeah, I get it. The Afghan rumour mill that works from Kabul to Auburn to Lane Cove to your mother's mobile phone. Got it.' He pecks me on the cheek and I giggle and push him away.

‘Hey!' I warn him.

‘Okay, okay.' He holds his hands behind his back in submission. ‘Happy now?'

‘Yes, thank you.'

He leans against the locker.

‘Did you speak to your parents?' I'm almost too scared to ask.

He nods, but the expression on his face worries me.

‘No use?'

‘Dad said he'll talk to the others. He's the leader of the organisation so that has to mean something . . . But he said he can't promise anything. I know that's not very reassuring. I'm so sorry, Mina.'

I bite my lip, too anxious to say anything. He puts his hand on my arm and peers into my face.

‘I tried. You believe me, don't you?'

‘Of course I do,' I say. And I mean it.

‘I'll speak to him again tonight to check he's spoken to them. They're all busy with the Jordan Springs campaign, so this will probably drop off their radar. They've got bigger Muslim fish to fry.' He grins at me and I hit him in the arm, a faint smile on my face.

*

I need to vent to Paula. With Michael, I have to hold myself back from swearing about his parents. I mean, as much as I wish they'd drop off the face of this planet, they are the parents of the guy who makes me weak at the knees.

But I don't get a chance to talk to Paula because she arrives at home room after the bell. It's our weekly one-hour period with Mr Morello today. Terrence is back and the colour has returned to Jane's face. She was moping for three days and it took all my self-control not to slap her out of her stupid crush.

Paula walks in and says hi to Mr Morello who smiles warmly at her and continues talking to us about leadership skills. A few minutes after Paula's taken her seat I hear sniggers from behind. I peer backwards and see some of the kids looking at Paula with amusement, trying to stifle their laughs. Terrence is sitting with his arms folded across his chest, a triumphant expression on his face.

Mr Morello is in no mood for disruptions and we get a two-minute power silence. Clara yells out at Terrence to shut up and respect the fact that some people actually come
to school to get an education. That sets him off giggling and so Mr Morello increases the power silence to four minutes.
Mr Morello asks what the joke is, which only gets Terrence and some others laughing more. They don't say anything though, and Mr Morello gives us six minutes.

We have early recess today and we spill out of the class when the bell rings. We're walking out into the courtyard and it's like a tiny crack in a windscreen has suddenly grown until the glass smashes.

I hear it first. Terrence walks past Paula and says, ‘So exactly how long have you been in love with Morello for?'

His voice is loud enough for others to hear, sending them into fits of laughter and backslaps. A small crowd has gathered. I see Zoe and Clara slow down, listening in and watching what's happening.

The question practically winds Paula. It's not her fault, but her reaction is just making it worse.

I play it cool. ‘Morello? Hello, who isn't crushing on him?'

But he's not backing down. ‘Nice try, Mina.'

Then, to my astonishment, Zoe lets out a laugh and says, ‘Terrence, you're such an idiot. Practically every girl in year eleven likes Morello. With guys like you around us, it's pretty obvious why.'

I feel like reaching out and giving her a hug. Paula stares at her in surprise. Our eyes meet for a moment, an understanding forming between us, and then, satisfied that they've chipped away at his rumour-mongering, Zoe and Clara walk away.

Terrence glowers at them and then focuses back on Paula.

‘How many one-on-one sessions have you had with Morello in his office?' he smirks.

Paula is mortified, shaking. I hold tightly onto her hand and try to lead her away but she's frozen to the spot.

I can't understand how Terrence knows. Paula had confided only in me. But then I see Jane standing nearby, watching Terrence laughing with his mates. The guilt in her eyes is unmistakable. She sees me staring open-mouthed at her, and I almost sense the shame take over her. She looks away and runs off, which is when Paula notices her. Realisation dawns on Paula's face. It's like she's been punched in the stomach.

‘Isn't he a bit too old for you?' Terrence taunts her.

He's not teasing like he usually does. There's something malicious about him now. I remember Michael's texts. This is payback to Mr Morello for the suspension. And Paula? Well, she's just collateral damage.

I get up right in front of his face. He doesn't scare me. ‘You know, I keep trying to find something redeeming about you. Some guys are jerks, but they can at least pull off witty and charming too. But you? It's no use. You're a one-talent show. The only trick you've got is first-class pathetic.'

The muscles in his neck bulge and he flashes an angry look at me.

‘What are you going to do about it? Put an SOS call to your terrorist buddies?'

‘Yeah, that's right. I'm from the land of Al-Qaida, remember.'

Some of the boys laugh. I stare back defiantly at him.

‘Hey, when I want an opinion from a boat person I'll ask,' he says smugly.

‘Quit it, Terrence,' I hear Michael shout from behind as he storms up to us. I'm not one to play the damsel in distress but I have to admit it's quite a turn-on.

‘When are you going to stop being such a fucking dickhead?'

Terrence is momentarily too surprised to respond.

‘Are you taking their side?' he finally manages.

‘Hell yes,' Michael cries. ‘What's Paula ever done to you?'

‘Where's your freaking sense of humour?' He looks at the other guys and laughs. ‘Anyway, Paula doesn't need you. She's got a terrorist defending her.'

It happens in an instant. Michael shoves him in the chest and Terrence stumbles backwards. The boys start cheering and making noises generally heard in wildlife parks.

‘Michael, don't! He's not worth getting suspended for.'

Terrence lets out a short, bitter laugh. ‘Is this how you treat a mate?'

‘A mate? If I was really your mate I would have called you out for being a wanker a long time ago.'

Terrence looks wounded for a moment but then his face twists in anger.

‘Fuck you,' he spits out and walks away.

*

It's then that I notice Paula has slipped away. I lock eyes with Michael and a rush of affection for him floods through every atom of my body.

I run out of the corridor, bumping into Jane outside.

‘How could you do that to anyone, let alone your own cousin?' I say furiously.

Jane stammers and fumbles, avoiding my eyes.

‘I never thought he'd tell. Honest. It just came up in conversation.'

‘You think it's okay to betray Paula?'

‘No.' She makes a face. ‘I just . . . it's hard to get his attention . . .'

‘Oh, I get it. Blabbing your cousin's secrets keeps him close, hey?'

‘You wouldn't understand.' Her voice slightly trembles.

I sigh, exasperated that I have to explain the bleeding obvious to her. ‘Listen to me. If you need to betray friends and family to keep a guy, you need to dump him. He's the
wrong
guy.'

She lets out a bitter laugh. ‘We were never going out for me to dump him. He made that clear to me last night. He got what he wanted at the party. After that, the only time he seemed interested in me was when I was . . . you know.'

‘Feeding him gossip?'

She nods slowly. ‘I feel like shit, all right? When Terrence made a move on me I couldn't believe it. Not many guys have before, let alone somebody like him.' She shrugs. ‘I learnt the hard way.'

‘No. Paula did.'

Her face crumples and with it my anger. She bites down on her lip, her eyes darting everywhere to avoid my gaze.

‘I'm sorry,' she mumbles.

Pity floods through me. If only she knew that she didn't have to be the kind of girl who only knows how to exist when she's wanted by a guy.

I smile at her and, wearing her shame like a heavy coat, she manages a small smile in return.

*

I find Paula sobbing in a toilet cubicle in the library.

‘Open the door, Paula,' I plead with her, leaning my head against the door.

She doesn't open the door and she doesn't speak.

‘It stinks in here. And sure I know you're in a shitty place right now, but you don't have to take it literally. I promise you can cry as much as you like but at least let's go somewhere hygienic.'

I hear the slightest movement. A tiny rustle.

‘Did you see the graffiti on this door, Paula? They've drawn Ms Ham, only they've given her a triple D cup. That's not her. Have her boobs seen better days?'

She opens the door and I smile at her.

‘My life sucks,' she says, her face crumpling again.

‘Listen to me. The only people who know the truth about your feelings for Morello are Jane and I. We just deny it. Terrence is known to talk shit all the time. Leave Jane to me.'

‘It's a bit too late to deny it. I fell apart.' She stands in front of the mirror, staring at her face. ‘Not to mention Morello's going to hear the rumours. I can never face him again.'

I rub her back. ‘Yes you can. Who's to say it even gets back to him? It'll blow over.'

‘But what if it doesn't? What if Terrence keeps on spreading it around?'

I lead her out of the bathroom and we take refuge in the privacy of a study cubicle on the second storey of the library.

I drum my nails on the desk, deep in thought.

‘I could always rent a terrorist.'

Paula stares at me. ‘Huh?'

I smile. ‘I know some guys in Auburn. Big. Bushy beards. Nike trackies. Westie accents. They just need to pay Terrence a visit. Pass him on the street and ask him for the time, maybe, then mutter
Allahu Akbar
or something and he'll crap his pants.'

Paula laughs. ‘You're crazy.'

The bell rings.

‘I don't want to go to class,' she moans.

I lift her up. ‘Come on. You don't go and he wins.'

‘I can't face anybody. They'll all be talking about me.'

‘I just
know
Oscar Wilde has a quote for this moment.'

*

Society and Culture. Paula and I walk in with our heads high. Zoe and Clara catch our eye and smile at us in solidarity.

Terrence is sitting tight with Fred, trying to affect nonchalance but failing miserably as far as I can tell. I walk past him and flash him a bright, insincere smile that I'm confident successfully conveys the extent of my disdain for him. Jane's next to Leica and is nervously avoiding eye contact with Paula. Michael's sitting alone, his long legs stretched out under his desk, looking as cool and calm as ever I've seen him.

Class goes on normally. Mr Morello obviously has no clue about what's happened. But something has shifted in the room. Terrence is trying to play it cool, but I can sense his ambivalence about how he's come out of all of this. While Paula's never been popular, she's always been respected from a distance. As for Mr Morello, he's well liked, one of the ‘cool' teachers. If Terrence had hoped to marginalise Paula, or get people talking about Mr Morello, it hasn't worked.

He's crossed the line and, judging from the look on his face, I'm guessing he realises it too.

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