Huda and Me H. Hayek (reading fiction txt) 📖

and wobble like jelly. It feels like the plane will tear apart in the sky.

‘Akeal.’ Huda’s voice is low. It’s a voice I haven’t heard before, because my sister isn’t usually scared of anything. I know she’s not saying my name because she wants anything. She’s saying it because I’m all she has now.

The plane jolts forward again forcefully, and I feel the pressure of being pushed into my seat. No one is talking. No one is laughing. We’re all preparing for the worst. Everything is silent except for the rumble of the struggling engines. I hold my breath.

Huda’s looking at me. Tears run down her fat cheeks. Snot drips from her runny nose.

‘I’m sorry for being a bad sister. You’ve been the best brother in the world. I hope we can be together in Jannah.’ If the plane doesn’t kill me, the pain in my heart will. I wrap my arm around her.

‘I won’t let you go no matter what,’ I say. ‘We’re strong, Huda. We’ve been strong since the day we were born. We’re gonna be okay.’

My sister lets go of her armrest and grabs me. She’s trembling almost as much as the cabin.

‘You’re the strong one, Akeal. You’ve always been the bravest.’ She tucks herself into my chest and squeezes me.

My heart is about to rip in half when the cabin lights flicker and then turn on. The shaking stops and the plane sails through the sky smoothly once again. Aside from the mess in the cabin and the fear on people’s faces, everything has gone back to how it was a few minutes ago. Huda lets go of me.

The pilot clears her throat.

‘We apologise for the unexpected turbulence. You may now move about the cabin. Please prepare for the final rubbish collection before landing.’

I turn and look at my sister. She’s already wiped her nose and eyes on her sleeve. I can tell because the wet snot is obvious on her jumper. She pushes my arm off her shoulder and elbows me.

‘I bet ya thought we were gonna die! You looked like a scared little prawn on a barbecue!’ Huda laughs and starts to shake, pretending she’s me.

There’s a lot I could say, but I bite my tongue. ‘Pick your grubby lollies up off the floor so they don’t think we’re pigs,’ I say instead.

Huda leans over and grabs the jellybeans around her feet.

‘Don’t eat them,’ I say.

Huda grins. ‘I won’t.’

She flicks her hijab and turns towards the window. I bet she will.

I glance at my hands and they’re still trembling. I think about what Huda said. I know she doesn’t lie about the important stuff. I think about what I said about us being strong since the day we were born. And I know it’s true. I remember the promise I made to Mum, about always looking after my sister.

I grab my hands to stop them shaking, then unclip my seatbelt. Passengers are still picking up their bags and the mess scattered around them. I step over half-eaten dishes of food and headphones as I walk to the front of the plane. I take a deep breath and pull across the thick red curtain that leads to the first-class area.

The seats here are three times as wide as the ones we’ve been sitting on, and some look like beds. Passengers drink from fancy glass cups and have proper plates to eat off – not aluminium disposable ones like us. It doesn’t even smell like our part of the plane. I slowly walk through the huge aisle, scanning each row until I see him. Michael. He’s sitting in a pod on his own, flicking through a magazine. He spots me before I have a chance to open my mouth.

‘Hey, man! Akeal with the cool shoes!’ Michael smiles.

‘Hey!’ I clear my throat like the captain did before she made her announcement.

‘I didn’t realise you were on this flight. I would’ve come and hung out with you.’

‘Yeh, my sister told me you were here, so I came to find you.’

Michael tips his head to the side. ‘Huh?’

‘Yeh, you know, my sister. The one wearing the pink scarf that you tried to rip off her head.’

The smile disappears from Michael’s face. Instead, two lines appear between his eyebrows. He puts his magazine down and stands up. I realise he’s taller than me.

‘Your sister?’ His frown gets deeper.

I nod and take another big breath, but I don’t let my eyes shift to the floor, as much as they want to.

‘My sister. The one who’s half your size and did nothing to you.’

Michael’s eyes drop to the floor. He doesn’t say anything. He bites his lip hard.

‘I didn’t realise,’ he mumbles eventually.

‘You didn’t realise she was my sister, or you didn’t realise that I was a Muslim?’ I feel my voice deepen.

‘Um … both,’ Michael stutters, glancing quickly at me then back at the floor. I feel my fists clench.

‘You hurt her. You judged her. You called her names that she isn’t. We’re not bad people, we’re just getting on with stuff like everyone else. Next time you want to pick a fight with a little kid – think twice.’

The words spew out of my mouth. I know I mean them, I just don’t know where they came from. I shove my hands into my pockets and take a step back. I’m done. I want to get back to my seat.

Michael’s face twitches, and he nods so quickly I barely catch it. ‘All right. I get it.’

I’m barely listening as I turn to walk back through the curtains.

‘Hey man, listen, sorry if I offended you,’ he calls out after me.

I stop and look back. I want to tell him he’s only sorry he was caught.

Michael’s still frowning, but it’s not the same frown as before. I don’t know what he’s thinking. He’s holding one hand out in front of him.

‘I said I’m sorry.’

Stealing the Stuff

‘Excuse me, sorry to interrupt your television show.’ Huda waited for Aunt