It Doesn't Matter

When Aishah saw that she had been added to a Facebook group devoted to conjuring up plans for her high school class reunion, she immediately left. Who the hell could have added her? Since becoming Muslim some eight or nine years ago, she had disappeared from the lives of her old friends, all except one, Selena, who miraculously managed to stay an inactive friend, or acquaintance or whatever. They never really spoke anymore, just a few likes here and there to show they still thought about one another on occasion. So of course it would be her. No other high school friends on her friends list, or who knew who Umm Yahyah was. Mother of Yahya, or John, if it’s too hard to say. 

There was no way she was going. No reason to go. Aishah, legally and formally Anna Thompson, the prom queen of class ‘06, girlfriend of the popular varsity jock Terrence Mitchell, title holder of “Most Popular” and “Most Likely To Succeed”, was miles apart from those days. They were alien memories that seemed more like some teen drama that was too good to be true. Did they even make teen dramas like that anymore, or are vampires walking around in daylight still a thing? Well it didn’t matter, because she wasn’t going, even if Terrence Mitchell would be there. God, he was cute. Did he still play football, or had he changed? She found herself, seated at her laptop, suddenly curious about the current life of the guy who popped her cherry in the back of his car, if he had popped anymore and if he was married. Married to who? It didn’t matter, but she was curious. 

And that girl, Natasha, who was always in competition with her over grades, popularity rank and sex appeal. She must have been really insecure to care so much about such trivial things. Did she still care, competing with someone else? Perhaps with her current boyfriend’s ex? Or with a co-worker for employee of the month? Well, who cares, because Anna Thompson isn’t going to the SHS Class of ‘06 Reunion. 

“Why did you leave the group?” A chat window appeared at the bottom left corner. Selena. Of course, right when she was about to close the window. Aishah threw her head back and let out a low groan.

“Because I’m not going.”

Typing….

“Why not? Everyone is curious about what you’ve been up to. They’ll be so surprised to see you now…Aishah. *smiling emoji*”

“Exactly. I don’t feel like having to explain my life decisions.”

Typing….Typing….Typing….

“Then don’t. Just go. Do you expect any of them to explain their life decisions?”

“I’ll think about it. But don’t add me back to the group, just tell me when a date is decided.”

Well, it didn’t matter, because Anna isn’t going. And Anna didn’t go, because Anna is dead. That popular girl who wore mini cut off shorts with flip flops in the summer, skinny jeans and Uggs in the winter, and showed off her navel ring was dead and gone, buried in a box of old things her mom refused to let go of. Aishah had conquered and prevailed, draped in flowing black garments that completely hid her feminine shapes and face. A shrouded mystery to some, a phantom ghost to others, and on one occasion, a little boy had shouted “Look mommy, a ninja”. That was her favorite. Aishah the Muslim ninja, ninjutusuing her way out of another social event that would only make her feel awkward and out of place. But her ninja skills were lacking because later that month, despite how determined she had been to stay home and not catch up with her old classmates, curiosity had gotten the better of her, and the idea of making a scene tickled her funny bone. She could always just show up, see the aged faces of the class of ‘06 and then make an easy escape without being noticed. Or so she imagined.

“Great”, Selena had said. “Wanna go with me? I can pick you up.”

“No thanks”, Aisha answered. “I want to be able to make a quick escape if things get weird.”

The reunion was held in a catering hall back in their old town. The same hall where their high school graduation had been held, where Anna stood at the podium and gave a speech about moving on, discovering our true selves and potential and finding our own paths in life. She had found hers, but not everyone was ready or willing to accept such a path, or the people who followed it, unless they were willing to bend over a bit and kiss someone’s ass.

Not I, thought Aishah.

From outside the hall door she could hear the steadily growing excitement from the commotion of old friends reuniting. She imagined members of cliques reforming, drinks in hand, laughing as they remembered moments from the past, when their biggest worries now seemed so small in comparison to the turbulent waves of adulthood. They were sharing stories, filling in the gaps from then up till now, showing off pictures of their kids, their house, talking about their jobs, perhaps discreetly flashing a ring with a raised hand that came up to cover a yawn or steal a sip from their cup. It was all too much. Maybe it wasn’t too late to change her mind. Or it would have been, had someone not come up from behind her and pushed the door open. All heads, it seemed, turned towards to the open door way, eyes adjusting to the strangely familiar face. And then someone yelled, “Terrence!?” 

A tall man with broad shoulders walked further into the door way. He was bald, or maybe he shaved his hair, she couldn’t tell, and looked heavy set. Not fat, just heavy. He turned back, looking at her, and at once she knew it was him. Those same brown eyes and thick eyebrows that dared to meet in the middle but never did. He paused, holding the door open, and she realized he was waiting for her. What choice did she have? To turn around and high tail it would be strange. Maybe she could excuse herself and play it off like she went to the wrong hall. No one would know. 

“Aren’t you coming in, Anna?”

“What?” Aisha’s heart dropped deep into her pelvis. “You recognize me?”

“I wouldn’t have, if I hadn’t seen your profile in the reunion group before you left.”

“Oh.” It was all she could manage to say. All that effort to be unnoticed, to appear, see, and then disappear like a ninja, all shot to pieces because her old high school boyfriend scoped her out on Facebook. She stepped into the room, the eyes now shifting from Terrence to the black ghostly figure beside him, the white tips of her classic Converse sneakers peaking from under her black skirt. There was a muffle of voices, everyone trying to quietly guess who she was.

Who is that?

I don’t know, I can’t see her face.

Did we have any Muslims in our class?

Wasn’t there that Lebanese girl? Was she Muslim? 

Maybe that’s her.

“You made it.” Selena came weaving from the back of the room. The small group huddling seem to resume, but Aishah could still the weight of their curiosity, and yet no one dared approach her. 

“Terrence, have you met Aishah”, she joked. Aishah sucked her teeth.

“Yeah, about…when did we start dating? 2004? So you go by Aishah now. Is it a religious requirement to change your name or…?”

“No, not at all”, Aishah said. She waved her hand dismissively and found that she was falling back into an old comfort as though only a week had gone by. 

“It’s like a new beginning. Legally I’m still Anna, but none of my Muslim friends call me that.”

It was like old times. The three of them stood apart from the growing mass of people, doing the very things she had imagined others doing but never expected to be doing herself. Memories, which had been buried and forgotten like old photos in a lost album, a dream that was once fresh but quickly dissolved like sand between your fingers upon awakening, now materializing in seconds. A woman with short hair came in between Terrence and Selena, her eyes studying Aishah with such scrutiny.

“Do you recognize her”, asked Selena.

“Oh my God…Anna?” The woman’s jaw dropped.

“Yeah…I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you.” The gawking woman didn’t resemble anyone Aishah knew from high school. Her nose was small and pointy and her lips were a full pout. 

“It’s me, Natasha!”

Oh, wow, what happened to your face, is what Aishah wanted to say. The Natasha she remembered had a different nose, long with a raised bridge from when she broke it while playing in the monkey bars back in the 5^th grade. And her lips were never that big, unless her new tiny nose made them look bigger.

“I know”, Natasha said, as if reading Aishah’s mind. “I got some work done. I was so self conscious about my nose, and then I got carried away and got my lips done, and even a boob job.”

“You didn’t need it, but you look good.” Terrence stood back to admire her.

“Thank you. I was so insecure when I was young, Anna, do you remember? I used to always try to beat you in everything. But now…” She held her hands out, not sure how to word her thoughts.

“She’s a bonafide ninja”, Selena cracked with a wink. 

Aishah didn’t know if that was a compliment or an insult, but regardless, she let it go with a laugh. The reunion went on smoothly. More classmates eventually came over to meet the mysteriously faceless phantom, and all were shocked to learn it was their old prom queen, miss “Most Likely To be Successful” herself. But it didn’t matter whether or not they thought she had lived up to the old expectations, whether they approved, or what they really thought, because the girl they had expected to see wasn’t present. Anna Thompson didn’t go to the SHS Class of ‘06 Reunion. Aisha Umm Yahya Thompson did.