A Morning Full of Disasters

Hidaya’s POV

I woke up feeling as ordinary as ever, with absolutely no idea that my morning would turn into a complete disaster.

After combing my hair and packing my lunch, I grabbed my ridiculously heavy textbooks and shoved them into my bag. Honestly, whoever decided that students needed to carry half a library to school clearly had something against our backs.

And, as usual, I was late.

Again.

I hurried through the school corridors, practically running towards my classroom, when—

THUD!

“Ouch!”

I stumbled backwards, immediately reaching for my nose. What on earth had I just walked into? A wall? A pillar? Because whatever it was, it felt solid, warm, and annoyingly human.

My nose throbbed as I looked up, ready to give the unfortunate creature standing in my way a piece of my mind.

And then I saw him.

For a second, I forgot what I was about to say.

Not because I was impressed. Absolutely not.

I was late, my nose hurt, and this boy had somehow managed to become another obstacle between me and my classroom.

I shot him the sharpest glare I could manage.

“Watch where you’re going,” I muttered, even though I was fairly certain I’d been the one running into him.

Before he could respond, I slipped past him and hurried towards my classroom. Whatever conversation might have followed would have to wait. My attendance was already fighting for its life.

I reached my classroom, dropped into my seat, and finally let out a breath.

“Hidaya!”

I didn’t even have to turn around to recognise that voice.

Zaiba.

My best friend, my personal headache, and quite possibly the sharpest-tongued girl in our entire school.

She was brutally straightforward, quick-witted, and sensitive in ways she would probably deny under oath. She could roast someone in three sentences and then spend the next ten minutes worrying whether she’d hurt their feelings.

In other words, she was Zaiba.

Before I could respond to her, another familiar voice joined in.

“Hello, Hidaya! How are you? How’s your day going?”

Shifa.

Of course. Just when I thought my morning couldn’t get any more eventful, both of them had decided to show up at once.

I turned towards them, letting my bag slide off my shoulder with an exhausted sigh.

“Oh, you have absolutely no idea how stressful my morning has been,” I groaned, dropping my forehead onto my desk for dramatic effect.

Zaiba raised an eyebrow.

“It’s barely morning, Hidaya.”

“Exactly!” I lifted my head to look at her. “And I’ve already had enough problems to last me the entire week.”

Shifa pulled out the chair beside mine, looking at me with curiosity.

“Okay, now you’ve got my attention. What happened?”

I took a deep breath, preparing myself to recount the most unnecessarily chaotic morning of my life.

“First of all, I woke up late. Then I had to stuff those ridiculously heavy textbooks into my bag, and by the time I reached school, I was practically running for my life because I thought I’d be late for class.”

“And?” Shifa prompted.

“And then I crashed straight into someone!”

Zaiba’s lips twitched, as though she was desperately trying not to laugh.

“Wait.” She leaned forward. “You crashed into someone?”

“Yes, Zaiba. Someone. A whole human being, if you can believe it.”

Shifa covered her mouth, already struggling to contain her laughter.

I pointed a finger at both of them.

“Don’t you dare laugh. My nose is still recovering from the incident.”

That was when Zaiba finally gave up and burst out laughing.

“Oh, this is priceless.”

“I’m so glad my suffering is entertaining to you.”

“Always,” she replied cheerfully.

I rolled my eyes.

“And the worst part? I didn’t even get to tell him off properly because I was already late. I just glared at him and rushed straight here.”

Shifa tilted her head.

“Wait a minute. Who was he?”

I paused.

Honestly, that was an excellent question.

A question I hadn’t bothered to consider while desperately trying to save my nose and my attendance.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I didn’t exactly stop to ask for his biography, Shifa.”

Zaiba snorted.

“Brilliant. You managed to pick a fight with someone without even learning his name.”

“I did not pick a fight!”

“Of course not,” she said, wearing the most innocent expression I’d ever seen. “You merely attacked an innocent stranger with your face.”

“ZAIBA!”

“What?” Zaiba asked innocently, batting her eyelashes. “I’m just stating the facts.”

“Your facts need medical attention.”

Shifa burst into laughter beside us, and I stared at both of them in absolute disbelief. Honestly, was this what friendship meant? Public humiliation before the first lesson had even started?

“I’m surrounded by idiots,” I muttered, turning towards my bag.

“Correction,” Zaiba said, holding up a finger. “You’re surrounded by two exceptionally intelligent girls who have the misfortune of knowing you.”

“May Allah grant me patience.”

“Ameen,” Shifa replied immediately.

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

And Zaiba started laughing all over again.

I swear, one day I was going to find new friends. Quiet friends. Sensible friends. Friends who would offer emotional support instead of treating my suffering like a free comedy show.

Unfortunately, those friends would have to wait. For now, I was stuck with these two.

The classroom gradually filled with students, the corridor outside growing louder with every passing minute. Someone was arguing about homework near the door, a couple of girls were comparing their notebooks, and a boy at the back was trying to finish an assignment that had probably been given three days ago.

A perfectly ordinary school morning.

Except for my nose.

And my dignity.

Both had suffered enough.

“So,” Shifa began, leaning her elbows on my desk, “did you at least get a good look at the guy you bumped into?”

I paused while pulling my notebook from my bag.

“Why?”

“No reason. I’m curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Shifa.”

“Fortunately, I’m not a cat.”

Zaiba leaned back in her chair. “She’s got you there.”

I gave them both a flat look.

“He was just standing there. That’s all I remember.”

“Just standing there?” Zaiba repeated. “In a corridor? At school? How scandalous.”

“I’m begging you to develop a personality that doesn’t revolve around irritating me.”

“I’m afraid that’s beyond my capabilities.”

Shifa laughed again, but before she could ask another question, the chatter around us changed. A few students near the doorway moved aside to let someone pass.

I barely paid attention.

I was too busy trying to find the pen I’d shoved somewhere inside my bag that morning.

“Where is it?” I whispered, digging through my books.

“What’s missing now?” Shifa asked.

“My pen.”

“You were holding it two minutes ago.”

“Thank you for that extremely useful information.”

I pulled out a textbook, a crumpled sheet of paper, my lunch box, and approximately half the contents of my bag before finally finding the pen wedged between two notebooks.

“There you are,” I murmured triumphantly.

“Congratulations,” Zaiba said. “You’ve survived another major life event.”

I was about to give her a suitable response when a shadow fell across my desk.

“Excuse me.”

The voice was unfamiliar.

I looked up.

And immediately wished I hadn’t.

It was him.

The same boy from the corridor.

The same boy I’d collided with that morning.

The same boy I’d glared at before running away like my life depended on reaching this classroom.

For one long, deeply unfortunate second, nobody spoke.