x
I knew he wouldn't pick up.
Tarik never answered when I needed him.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq8mhGdEVAT
Not when I was calling to leave the gym.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl4Vd4HMSII
Not when I was stuck outside in the cold.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGgLKkmoNgU
Not even that one time I broke my wrist and called from the hospital with my left hand.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt0KMHAG3qa
But if he was bored in class?8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLbHL49iG7J
Suddenly, I was his emotional support animal.
I tapped my thumb against the steering wheel, phone pressed to my ear.
Voicemail. Again.
I hung up, leaned my head back against the seat, and stared at the roof like it might offer answers.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEiEj80lRkF
It didn't.
I let out a breath through my nose. Then killed the engine.
I grabbed the keys and slammed the Jeep door shut behind me.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ3uN8VhFto
Hoodie sleeves shoved up, palms still raw from deadlifts.
My phone buzzed in my pocket—probably not Tarik.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNfycwXEH6U
Of course not Tarik.
I crossed the lot, boots hitting pavement in steady rhythm.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjb1uur2kc6
Going to get him.
Because he wasn't allowed to go home alone.
That was the rule.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEs5rdrB1nn
Our rule.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOFDGbjWdF9
Never spoken. Never broken.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLzZY8XvjFD
Not if we wanted to make it through the night.
Zmaj's familiar glow lit up the block like always—8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNMc464nVCX
Greasy ćevapi, over-salted fries, and too many TVs mounted crooked on the walls.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH2PP3bLhtl
The scent of charred meat drifted from the vents overhead, and I could already hear the low hum of teenage chaos inside.
And sure enough, through the fogged glass, I spotted them.
Same corner booth.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJixRUrFJ3L
Same chaos.
Tarik—hunched over a worksheet he was definitely pretending to care about.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS5kZt2pjBN
Adem—leaning back, wearing that permanently unimpressed face of his.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKjow8gTFk3
And Amina—
Right in the middle of them, like she'd been born to orbit both boys at once.
She was half-turned toward Tarik, brows pulled together in that stubborn little way she had when she was scolding him.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgaJ7KGkZ6u
One hand pointed at the paper.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa8zq8aSzCl
The other wrapped around a drink she'd probably stolen from Tarik.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV4p3NFsX0W
Her mouth moved fast—expression alive with frustration and something gentler buried underneath.
Love.
That was the thing about her.
Even when she was yelling, it felt like being protected.
Even from here, even through the glass—she stood out.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGPoN9j05s9
Not in a way that asked for attention.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjKtl1HjgHN
Just... in a way that made you pause.
Like something in the room had shifted.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzIbu6svyd8
Like she pulled focus without trying to.
She always did.
I stepped in. The smell hit hard—fried meat, somun, and adolescent despair.
"It's a simple concept," Amina was saying as I walked closer, voice steady but on the edge. "Think of electron repulsion. The lone pairs push the bonded atoms down—tetrahedral becomes bent. Just follow VSEPR. You've done this."
Tarik squinted at the worksheet like it had insulted his entire bloodline. "So... the electrons are like... fans at a stadium?"
Adem didn't even glance away from the screen. "What kind of stadium has fans circling like vultures? Maybe she should draw it in crayon."
Amina whipped a straw wrapper at his face. "Shut up, Mr. 97 in chem. Not everyone wants to marry science."
"Never said I wanted to marry it," Adem said. "Just not allergic to critical thinking like some people."
Tarik muttered, "Geometry doesn't belong in chemistry. That's betrayal."
Amina narrowed her eyes. "Tarik. I swear on my mother's life—"
"M-Mine too," I cut in, stepping up to the booth. "If he s-survives the n-night, it'll b-be a mir-miracle."
All three heads turned.
Amina's eyes flicked up to mine—surprised, but only for a second.
Then that smile crept onto her face.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV6upsXMbgU
The one she didn't even know she gave me.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRCcmh3JexX
The one that always said she missed me, whether she'd admit it or not.
She always lit up when I was around.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFVYbVC7jbn
Everyone knew it.
"You came in," she said simply.
"Be-because he d-didn't an-answer," I said, nodding toward Tarik. "A-again."
"He's not ready," Amina said, jabbing a finger at his worksheet.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0aCmhdF73F
"We've got a chem test tomorrow and he still can't tell the difference between sp² and sp³ hybridization. He drew water as linear, Talha. Linear."
Tarik threw his head back. "It has two atoms!"
"It has two lone pairs!" she snapped. "It's bent, genius. VSEPR? We've been over this."
"I'm done," Tarik muttered, sliding the worksheet away like it had personally offended him. "If I don't know it by now, I'm not gonna."
Amina turned to me like I was reinforcements.
"He's being impossible."
I looked at her, then at him. And then—at the worksheet.
It could've been written in another language.
Hell, maybe it was.
Tarik gave me the look—wide-eyed, hopeful, full of fake innocence.
"D-don't ," I warned.
"But I've been sitting here for two hours."
"Then s-sit for one m-more," I said, dropping into the booth across from them. "If sh-she says you're n-not ready, y-you're not rea-dy."
Tarik groaned and thunked his head on the table. "You're supposed to be on my side."
"I a-am," I said. "Th-that's why you're fin-finish-ing the w-worksh-sheet."
Amina smirked, satisfied. Tarik sighed like he was being tortured.
I stared down at the notes again—bond angles, hybrid orbitals, lone pairs marked like landmines—and shook my head.
"I d-don't know wh-what any of th-that m-means," I muttered.
Amina didn't even look up. "Neither does he."
"I hate this family," Tarik muttered.
"You love this family," Amina said, poking his arm without looking up.
"You just hate being held accountable like a functioning human being."
"Same thing," he grumbled, sliding lower in his seat like he was trying to escape the conversation entirely.
"Leg day hit that hard?" Adem asked, giving me a once-over as I stretched out my legs under the table.
I rolled my shoulder and let out a breath.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdy5qRXWNQx
"Y-yeah. W-was temp-ted to l-leave Tarik h-here. Let h-him get hum-humbled b-by the st-street dogs."
Tarik didn't look up from his worksheet. "Joke's on you. I am a street dog."
"You're a house cat with delusions," Amina muttered, not even looking up.
Tarik didn't bother arguing. Just stared at the worksheet like it had ruined his life.
"Bet you still had a better night than me," he said, nodding at the paper like it had drawn blood.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj3dVwHDXl4
"She chucked a book at my head earlier."
"It was a softcover," Amina replied, clearly unbothered.
"It had corners."
"Y-you angry to-today, Mino?" I asked.
She met my gaze—calmer now, but with that familiar spark in her eyes.
"Depends," she said. "Will you finally let me ride your bike this Sunday?"
I laughed—low, automatic.
"Y-you'd crash it in f-five sec-seconds."
She grinned. "So that's a no?"
"Tha-that's a hell n-no."
"Then yeah," she said, sipping her drink. "I'm furious."
The bell over the door chimed.
A group of boys from their school spilled in—loud, half-zipped jackets and half-finished stories. One of them—Nermin—broke off immediately and made a straight line for our table.
Didn't look around. Didn't hesitate.
Just saw her—and came.
"Hey, Amina," he said, all confidence and way too much cologne.
His eyes barely skimmed the rest of us.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGQN23g42c0
"You coming on the class trip this weekend?"
He leaned on the edge of the booth like he'd done it before.
Like this was a conversation they'd had more than once.
Amina looked up and smiled—sweet, but thin. The kind of smile you give when someone's trying too hard.
"Working on it," she said, tilting her head slightly.
From beside her, Adem's head snapped up like he'd just heard a threat.
"Working on what?"
She didn't miss a beat. "The class trip. I might still go."
"No," he said flatly. "You're not."
Tarik didn't even look up. "We already talked about this. You're coming to Mostar."
"I haven't decided," she said, playful now. Almost daring them to keep pushing.
"Pretty sure we decided for you," Adem muttered, eyes narrowed.
Nermin shifted, finally catching the shift in the room.
"She can come to both, can't she?"
"She can't," Tarik said, finally glancing up. "She'll be busy."
"Doing what?"
"Cheering me on," he said with a smug grin. "Obviously."
Adem didn't even blink.
"Go take a walk, man," he said, voice low and flat, still watching the game like Nermin wasn't even worth turning his head for.
Amina groaned. "You guys are unbelievable."
"We're protective," Tarik said, like it was a badge of honor.
"We're looking out for you," Adem added, voice calm but final.
"You're controlling," she snapped.
None of them argued.
Not even me.
Because they were.
And sometimes, she let them be.
I leaned back, watching them bicker like always.
Couldn't help myself.
"Y-you know wh-what I'm g-gonna say."
Tarik groaned immediately. "Bro—again?"
Amina didn't even look at me. Just sighed into her cup like she'd heard it a hundred times.
"Per-perfect for ea-each-other."
"She's like a sister, man," Tarik muttered.
"Y-yeah," I said. "And y-you're an idi-ot."
Amina shot me a warning look across the table. I ignored it.
"Y-oh think g-girls like her g-grow on tr-trees?"
"I can hear you," she said, sipping her drink without missing a beat.
"Good."
Tarik shook his head. "Just because you think she's perfect for me doesn't mean—"
"It's n-not about wh-what I thi-think," I cut in, voice low. Tired. Sharper than I meant it to be.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpErrLfytyw
"It's obv-ious. To e-every-one but y-you."
Adem glanced between us, slow. The humor was gone from his face.
"Funny," he said. "I didn't realize we were taking applications for my sister."
Amina turned to him. "Adem—"
He held up his hands. "Just saying. If we're doing arranged marriages, I'd like to be consulted before he volunteers my best friend."
Tarik dropped his pencil and leaned back, giving me a flat look.
"Can you not?" he said. "She's finally getting to the part where I understand things."
I smirked. "Just s-saying—f-for a guy w-who claims he d-doesn't like h-her like th-that, you get r-real Terri-torial."
Tarik raised an eyebrow, slow. Then, without breaking eye contact, he threw an arm around Amina's shoulders.
"She's the sister I never had," he said. "And always wanted."
Amina made a face. "Lucky me."
Tarik grinned. "Damn right."
I leaned back, watching her walk him through another example.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjXbZX8NbV0
Her voice had that edge—firm, sharp—but underneath it, there was patience.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh76U6vAmS6
Steady. Unshaken.
She believed in him.
More than he ever had in himself.
It was always her. Since they were seven.
Adem and Tarik were solid—brothers in everything but blood.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZaUx7L7nvi
But it was Amina who made them whole.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWyM3wsIfKq
Who dragged Tarik to practice when he didn't want to go.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbQbUFhQwR8
Who sat on the curb with him after every bad grade, every missed shot.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡddyoKDMRTs
Who convinced the Begovićs to cover his school fees when our parents couldn't.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKnkboYE9Ci
Who never let him forget he was worth the effort.
Even when he did.
Especially then.
And me?
I was just the older brother who picked him up after.
But even I wasn't immune to her.
She had that way about her—like sunlight cutting through fog.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR7DheXjZys
Loud, bright, impossible to ignore.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs1MHLqlIvX
Even on the worst days, she made things feel... less heavy.
"You okay?" she asked suddenly.
I looked up. "Y-yeah. Why?"
She tilted her head. "You get quiet when you're tired. But this feels... quieter."
"Just thi-thinking."
"About what?"
I hesitated.
"Don't pull the stutter card," she said, leaning in. "You know I'll wait all night."
That made me smile.
"A-about how luck-y he is," I said finally, nodding toward Tarik—still scribbling like the worksheet might save his life.
She softened. "We missed you last week. You didn't come."
"Busy."
"Liar."
I looked away.
She didn't say anything else.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAGCk8CnN7Y
She didn't have to.
She always noticed when I disappeared.
Always took it a little harder than the others.
The truth was, sometimes I stayed gone on purpose.
Not because I didn't want to be around them—8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZxSOvGmtbD
but because I couldn't always stomach how easy they made it look.
Friendship.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeCUGjIPuFf
Life.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmZh6ei9RGk
Peace.
Things that never came quiet in my world.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
This was meant to be harmless.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDlir4MKbjL
Some tutoring, some fries, some light bullying between friends.
And yet here we are:8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSRqGvRNr2s
One silent older brother, two bickering soulmates, and Amina holding it all together with sarcasm and snacks.
No one's in love. Definitely not.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjqPhQysmQK
Everything is fine.
—Ash&Olive, lying through her teeth8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPIa6y06jAs
but having a great time doing it
8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI8ThoDUQPU
