One Half from the East by Nadia Hashimi Read Free Book Online

teacher.”
    â€œFor what?”
    I look her directly in the eye and place the piece of chalk in her hand. I hear whispers. She sees tears in my eyes and says nothing. She watches me return to my spot on the floor. The boy next to me looks at me, baffled. It’s unheard-of to disobey a teacher. I brace myself.
    â€œClass, what has happened here?” Her arms are folded across her chest.
    Responses come flying in. I feel like I’m back on the field, getting knocked around by one-legged opponents.
    â€œObayd’s not very good at math.”
    â€œHe’s scared of chalk.”
    â€œMaybe he’s never had an apple.”
    Hands clap over mouths to dampen the laughter.
    I want to shrink into my clothes like a turtle.
    Our teacher takes control of the conversation. She slaps a ruler against the wall three times and clears her throat.
    â€œKnowing something is useless if you cannot share what you know. It’s almost like not knowing it at all. Obayd may very well be able solve the problem or even more complicated ones, but if he cannot tell us what he knows, we are left to think the worst.”
    There is quiet in the room. I am filled with hatred for this teacher, knowing she set me up to fail.
    Recess comes and I am, for the first time, relieved to get out of my classroom. At least outside, I can move away from the gawkers. But I am barely outside the double doors when I feel something slam against me from behind. I stumble and can’t catch myself. I’m on the ground.
    I look back and see W - I - Z - A - R - D - S .
    The other students are running past us. We are in an uneven face-off that no one else seems to notice.
    â€œGet up,” he says flatly. I can’t see his eyes. They’re hidden by the rim of his cap. From this close, I can see the red threads of the letters. They’re wildly frayed and remind me of Meena’s unruly hair.
    â€œWhat do you want from me?” I blurt out angrily.
    â€œNow, there’s something,” he says, his lips curled in a sly smile. He keeps his eyes on me as I get to my feet slowly.
    â€œWhat’s your problem? Just leave me alone.” I brush my hands against the seat of my pants.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” He is unfazed by my attitude.
    â€œWhy should I tell you?”
    â€œBecause I bothered to ask. Has anyone else done that?”
    No one else has.
    â€œYou’re not having an easy time with it. That’s pretty clear.”
    â€œWith what?”
    There it is again—that awkward feeling of being naked right here in the schoolyard. Instinctively, I hunch my shoulders forward and start to cave in on myself. My eyes focus on a pebble and my lips tighten into a knot.
    â€œThere it is. That’s how I knew.”
    â€œKnew what?”
    He leans in. His face is so close that I can see the spidery blood vessels in the whites of his eyes. He’s about three years older than me and very intimidating. I pull back and turn my shoulder to him. If I can see that much of him, he can see even more of me. He smirks, hands on his hips. He is standing with his feet apart and his back straight. He is strong and confident and the opposite of me. I hate myself for being so meek.
    â€œYou’re one.”
    I hold my breath. If he knows, I wish he would just say it. Maybe he’s not sure and he wants me to admit it. I’mnot going to give him the satisfaction. But I can’t tell what he knows, and I’m not sure what to do.
    â€œGet out of my face,” I hiss and start to walk away. That seems to be all I know how to do today.
    â€œI know what you are,” he calls out behind me. The simple words make the short hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Eight
    I think about him all weekend. I dread going back to school because I know what awaits me there. Inside the classroom things are bad, and outside the classroom things are even worse. I can’t talk to my mother about anything.