Farah Rocks New Beginnings by Ruaida Mannaa

Author:Ruaida Mannaa [Darraj, Susan Muaddi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: 9781496583413;97814965984311;9781496583468;fiction;Stone Arch Books;Farah Rocks;school;friendship;bullying;bullies;family;Arab American;Palestinian American;children with special needs;fire;new experiences
Publisher: Capstone
Published: 2020-10-08T00:00:00+00:00

Suddenly I hate my life.

“Sorry to hear about your house, Farah,” says Lana in a way that doesn’t sound very sorry. She’s always hated me, but it’s gotten worse since the summertime when she was caught sabotaging my tutoring business.

“Thanks,” I say, helping Samir climb up the plastic slide.

“It was a tiny house. Probably didn’t need more than five minutes to burn,” she says to Copy and Paste, in a voice that’s loud enough for me to know she wanted me to hear it.

“I wish that dress had gotten burned,” mutters Paste.

“Don’t worry, Farah,” Lana adds, and I get ready for a real blow. “You’ll be out of that crummy neighborhood soon enough. My mom said three months. You’ll be back in your house in time for Halloween.”

I roll my eyes and blurt out, “Actually, we’ll be back a little before Christmas. It’s September now, so three months is ninety days. Thirty days in a month, times three. That would put us in December, not October.”

I pause while she absorbs my words. Then I add, “I’m pretty good at math. It’s why I got into Magnet.”

Her jaw drops open. As if on command, Copy’s and Paste’s jaws do the same.

I suddenly feel bad. It’s not like me to be so harsh, even with Lana. I don’t know how to take it back so I grab Samir’s hand and walk away quickly.

“You’re a real piece of work, Farah Hajjar!” Lana calls after me. “You know what?” she adds, her face all pink with anger. “I donated some old clothes for you. At least for once in your life, you’ll look nice.”

I wish I had an answer for that.

Later, as we’re leaving church, Mama puts a whole box of clothes, toys, and books in the trunk. “Wow, people are very generous.” She says it so kindly. For a second, I’m furious with her. Doesn’t she know that people are making fun of us?

“Yes, they were all bery nice to us,” Baba agrees.

I groan. Baba gives me a funny look, so I just get in the car silently.

At home, Mama gives me a stack of clothes that people donated. One of the shirts is long-sleeved and black, and says bebe in rhinestones across the front. There is another piece of clothing, a long, flowy black dress with a zigzag hem that has a Chanel label.

I know they are from Lana, because I’ve seen her wear them both. I take the bag and jam it deep in my beige closet and shut the beige door.

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