“So, you’ve lived in Israel all your life?” I asked, eager for more information.
“Yes … I was born here in Jerusalem.”
“And how long have you been working at that little store?”
“Oh … um, on and off for a while,” he replied vaguely. “In between school and soccer — you know, just to make some extra money.”
Something in his voice gave me the feeling he didn’t want to talk about it, so I didn’t ask anymore. Maybe I’d made him uncomfortable by asking about his job. Maybe his family was poor and he was embarrassed at having to work for extra money.
Worried that I’d overstepped my bounds on our very first date, I started talking about myself. I told him all about Canada: how cold the winters are, how you can drive for days without reaching a border, how there’s a whole season dedicated to maple syrup, how we have bears and moose and beavers and evergreen forests that go on forever and hundreds upon hundreds of freshwater lakes.
I told him about my high school and my old friends and how they used to call me Snow White. I told him about my old house and the neighbourhood where I grew up. I told him about Dad and how goofy he could be and how he’s a visiting professor here at Hebrew U. I basically gave him every detail of my life. I was flattered that he was so interested. Every time I stopped talking he’d ask me something else. I definitely never met any other boy like him before. He seemed so genuinely into me and everything I had to say.
“How does your family like it in Israel? What was your house like in Canada? Did you know Avril Lavigne? Did you have your own car there? Do you want to be a professor, too?”
Eager to please, I didn’t hold any detail back. I even told him about Mom, which surprised me, since I normally did anything to avoid mentioning her. But opening up to Marla must have really helped. And Nasir was so easy to talk to, it kind of just came out.
By the time I’d finished telling him everything he wanted to know, it was nine-thirty. Our night was coming to an end and there was still one little thing I was itching to find out.
“So, Nasir, let me ask you something now.” God, I loved hearing myself say his name!
“Sure — anything.”
I twirled a thin strand of hair around my finger and chose my words carefully.
“Um, well, why are you so scared to talk to me when you’re at work?”
He shrugged. “You know, the Arab community is pretty close. Somebody might tell my family if they saw us together.”
“And would that be really terrible?” I asked, although after Marla’s reaction I was almost sure I knew what his answer would be.
He confirmed it with a sombre nod.
“They would never approve. I’m expected to marry a Muslim girl.”
“Marry?” I giggled, trying to lighten up the conversation. “Who said anything about getting married? I’m only fifteen, you know!”
“Trust me, they wouldn’t care how old you are,” he replied, tossing his brown hair lightly from side to side. “Dating isn’t allowed, either … until you’re engaged, that is.”
“Oh …”
“And neither is kissing,” he added.
“It’s not?” I whispered, feeling my poor heart sink into my shoes. I wanted to kiss him so badly my lips were burning.
“No, it’s not.”
I was about to ask him how anybody would ever know when he suddenly stopped walking and reached for my hands. I prayed he wouldn’t notice my ugly fingernails. Note to self: stop biting them!
“But thankfully, I don’t believe in any of that stuff,” he said, pulling me gently towards him. Before I knew it, his mouth was touching mine. His lips were so soft — I could taste the faintest bit of toothpaste on them, but it was nice. I think he was nervous, ’cause I could feel his hands trembling in mine. And me? My head was spinning, my knees felt weak, and my heart felt like it was going to pound itself right out of my chest. Could he feel that, too? I think if he hadn’t been holding my hands I might have fallen over. I knew what we were doing was forbidden and yet that was, strangely enough, a good thing. Like the most dangerous thing I’d allowed myself to do in a long time.
When we finally came up for air, I looked into his deep brown eyes and felt myself disappearing inside them.
Just like the desert.
Chapter 17
Of course, I called Marla and told her all about it the minute I got home. Unfortunately, it was an awkward conversation. There were a lot of uncomfortable pauses on her end of the line when I described our date. And when she did finally speak, I could hear her voice straining to be nice.
“Okay … Uh-huh … That’s nice, Mack.”
For the first time since our move to Israel, I found myself missing my old Toronto friends. They would have been happy for me, I was sure of it!
The next day at school, Marla outed my relationship to her lunchtime buddies.
“Guess what, guys?” she announced in a tone that sounded like a big sister tattling on a younger one. “Mackenzie has a boyfriend!”
My face grew bright red as every eye at the table turned to look at me in shock.
“Wow! Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Ronit accusingly.
“Yeah!” Yael chimed in, swatting me on the arm. “Who is it?”
Before I could answer, Noa jumped in with a guess. “I know! It’s Ari from your math class, right?”
“Um … no, it’s not Ari,” I mumbled.
“Shut up! Then who?” demanded Yael.
“Well, you don’t know him,” I stalled. “He doesn’t go to this school.”
“Ooh … Does that mean he’s a college guy?” guessed Ronit, bouncing up and down with glee. “Oh my gosh! One of your dad’s students?”
I looked over to Marla for help, but she just smiled smugly and shrugged. I was on my own.
“Um, his name is Nasir Hadad,” I said. “And no, he’s not in college. He goes to high school in East Jerusalem.”
The entire table suddenly turned quiet. Within seconds, their looks of excitement began simultaneously melting into frowns of disapproval.
“So, he’s Muslim?” asked Noa, whispering like it was some kind of curse word.
I couldn’t believe these people! How could they object to someone they didn’t even know?
“Yes, he is,” I replied, feeling very defensive, “and if any of you have a problem with it, tough!”
And then I did something the old me never would have done: I jumped to my feet and stormed out of the cafeteria. God, was I furious at Marla! I knew she was trying to sabotage my feelings for Nasir. But to tell you the truth, I didn’t care if she or her friends approved of him or not. All that mattered was how we felt about each other.
Despite all the negativity surrounding us, Nasir and I continued to meet on the sly. I was pretty daring, meeting him after school or sometimes in the evenings if I knew that Dad was working late. It was tricky, but totally worth it. He was like no other guy I’d ever met before.
I know what you’re thinking: he’s my first boyfriend, so how would I know, right? But he treated me with such respect and he always listened so attentively to everything I had to say. And he told me how beautiful I was every time we were together — even on the days when