Harmonious Hearts 2018--Stories from the Young Author Challenge by A. Aduma

Author:A. Aduma [Authors, Multiple]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: young adult
ISBN: 978-1-64080-966-6
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2018-10-30T05:00:00+00:00

II.

I DIDN’T sleep right. My mind kept wandering to Law. Was he all right? Would he be all right? My heart beat so loudly and fast I barely got a chance to breathe.

I finally got to sleep in the wee hours when Mum and Dad were waking up to go to work. I woke up a few hours after that, earlier than I was accustomed, to a dead phone and a quiet house.

I put the phone in the charger, grabbed my running shoes, and went for my morning run. I needed to burn the nervous energy and probably get some sleep after.

The thing I liked about running was I didn’t have a chance to think. I was always too busy battling my thoughts with my body, wondering if I’d be able to complete the next mile, considering how much my legs were hurting.

But somehow, even with my battles of will, Law slithered into my thoughts, hatched eggs, and he became all I could think about.

It wasn’t fair what his dad was doing, making Law feel unwanted like that. Making him feel wrong for this world.

I found myself cutting through a street I didn’t run on to get back home quickly, find Law, and see how he was doing. Despite T’s meaningful words, I decided against speaking of my feelings. Law had enough shit on his plate.

To my utter dismay, Law’s dad was in the backyard surrounded by a cloud of white smoke smelling of tobacco. He turned my way and I froze. Law’s dad was a scary-looking guy. He was ridiculously tall and stiff, with frown lines so deep they had to be imprinted on his bones. He had dark eyebrows that were always furrowed, a forehead with deep creases, and hard eyes that didn’t seem to blink.

Those hard eyes found mine, and I could swear his entire body tightened. So did mine, with nerves and fear. Law’s dad looked like a lion ready to pounce.

He blew out smoke, and it clouded his face, shrouding him with doom—which I could have sworn was impossible in broad daylight with the sun shining overhead.

“Devon, is it?” Law’s dad had a deep Somali accent that doused the fire in his words.

“Yes.” I stood at attention with my eyes on his, bracing myself for the worst. If he called me out, I’d call him out right back.

He paused and took a puff, giving me a chance to blink. It clicked then. Muslims weren’t supposed to smoke; Law’s dad was smoking. And how was Law? How was he? I feared asking, imagining I’d probably be pouring oil on flames.

He nodded as if contemplating something. “You’re homosexual too?”

“Yes,” I said.

He nodded again. “So’s my son.”

I tried reading into his voice, but it was unchanging in pitch and lacked expression.

I bit my lip and grappled with something to say. “So?” Which meant, was it a problem?

He threw his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. “Nothing.” He glared and disappeared into his house. What did that mean?

I dashed into my house, ran up the stairs, and grabbed my phone off the charger.

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