All-American Muslim Girl by Nadine Jolie Courtney

Author:Nadine Jolie Courtney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR)

* * *

“Did you do something different to your hair?” Sarah asks me as we wait for the bus. Wells has soccer practice followed by an hour at a recording studio—paid for by Jack, of course—so I’m on my own for getting home.

“Not really. I haven’t done much to it at all recently.”

“That’s what it is,” Sarah says, snapping her fingers. “Your roots are kinda brownish. You stopped dying it red?”

My bus comes, and I stand. “Time for a change.”

Sarah does debate, so she’s good at controlling her emotions, but something fleeting passes across her face—a flicker of the brow, a widening of the eyes.

I’m dressing a little differently at school, too. While normally I’d wear a short, flouncy, flippy dress, recently I’ve been experimenting: Last Wednesday, I wore straight-leg jeans and a black-and-white polka-dot long-sleeved silk shirt. Truthfully, it’s not like it’s superconservative, but I can’t remember the last time I wore pants. Dresses have been my thing here.

I guess other students have started noticing.

“Actually, Emilia told me you’re Muslim. Is that true?” Sarah asks.

“Yep.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“Yep.”

“Did your family convert? You don’t look Muslim.”

“What does that mean? Looking Muslim?”

“You know.”

“I don’t, actually. I’d love to hear you say what you mean. Do Muslims look a certain way?”

Am I being too aggressive, or do I have less tolerance for BS recently?

Is Sarah being rude, or am I?

She blanches. “I’m just trying to have a conversation, okay?”

“I’m Circassian.”

“What’s that?”

I long to say, Google is your friend, but I don’t. Maybe she does want to learn.

I launch into an explanation of my background, only to realize her eyes are glazing over about five seconds into it. I cut myself off, feeling insulted, and say, “Anyhow, that’s the deal.”

The next day, it happens again. Wells and I are standing together at my locker, and he’s showing me cell phone video from his recording session, when Mikey Murphy stops by. “Yo, Lincoln. There’s a rumor going around you’re Muslim. True?”

“True,” I say flatly.

“That’s crazy.”

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why is the fact I’m Muslim ‘crazy’? Which, by the way, is an offensive thing to say in itself.”

“It’s offensive to say you’re Muslim?”

“No, it’s offensive to say—never mind.”

I’m not going to waste my breath on Mikey. He’s a lost cause.

He looks at me like I’m weird and shrugs. “’Kay. Gotta get to class. Later.”

Wells watches him walk away. “Why are we still friends with him again?” he says.

“Hey,” I say, “that’s on you, not me.”

A couple days later, when the subject of terrorism comes up during World History, a few kids throw glances my way.

I know what people who’ve never experienced it would say:

It’s not a big deal.

You’re looking for a problem that doesn’t exist.

Stop being so sensitive.

But I’m not imagining it.

I’ve gone from being just plain Allie to being Allie the Muslim. My identity boxed in, just like that.

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