Boy vs. Girl Read Online Free PDF

designer stubble and a diamond earring.
    Shazia wrinkled up her nose in disgust. “That is too disgusting! What a cheap flyer!”
    But Robina turned and flicked her with the glossy piece of card.
    â€œIt’s not for the likes of you, Shazia!” she laughed. “I think it’s going to be dead classy – and I bet my sister can get us tickets. All the staff at Asian Girl will be getting free passes.”
    Farhana remembered how they had pored over the bachelor issue of Asian Girl for ages in her room, deciding which of the guys were hot, which were right posers and which ones were wearing too much make-up. Her brother Faraz had caught them at it and wouldn’t stop teasing her about it. In the end, she had had to put it in the recycling bin to hide it from her mum and dad.
    â€œSo when is it then?” Farhana asked.
As if I’ll be going
, she thought to herself.
    Robina looked at the flyer again. “It says next Saturday night here.”
    â€œBut we’ll be fasting then. Ramzan is in a few days’ time y’know…” Farhana took out her mobile to check her messages. Several times, she pressedthe button to delete. Five messages from him so far today.
    â€œSo? At least it’s the weekend, right?”
    â€œOh, don’t be so daft, Robina!” snapped Shazia. “Are you really going clubbing during Ramzan?”
    Robina shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I’m sixteen now – my parents can’t tell me nothing. And besides, if I go with my sister, it should be all right…”
    Farhana and Shazia looked at each other. Robina had changed so much since she started hanging with her older sister, Tasnim, who had a glamorous job at a hip Asian magazine and lived it up every weekend. Once upon a time, they had all been on the same page, but now…
    â€œWell, I won’t be going,” said Farhana at last. “I know how busy things always are in Ramadan – besides I want to do it right this year and …”
    â€œYeah, yeah, whatever!” Robina huffed. “I’ll let you know how fun it was, OK? Take a few pics on my phone for you.”
    â€œDon’t bother,” muttered Shazia, not quite under her breath.
    Robina took a long, hard look at Shazia. “You know what, Shazia?” Her voice was slow anddeliberate. “You really need to get a life.”
    And with that, she turned on her heel and flounced off down the hall.
    The two girls watched her go.
    â€œShe’s got some serious issues, man,” said Shazia, as they too began to walk to their next class: Art.

Chapter 5
Masterpiece
    Faraz sat hunched over the large sheet of grainy paper.
    All around him, the sounds of the unruly Year 11s ebbed and flowed: papers shuffling, chairs scraping, doors slamming, whispered arguments, sly curses and promises to meet after school, either for a tryst or a fight. He was hardly aware of his hard chair and the scarred desk, etched with messages from students long gone. In the background, he could hear the soft voice of Mr McCarthy, the art teacher, trying to maintain order and command respect in a class of hard-boiled teens, all eager to protest, argue, trip him up.
    But Faraz was hardly conscious of the chaos. His mind was focused. He was in the zone. This was where he felt safe, where he could do something right…
    * * *
    â€œNo, Faraz, no! That’s wrong! Do it again!”
Imam
Shakir’s voice echoed in his subconscious and he heard again the titters of the other kids, all careful not to laugh out loud in case the
imam
called on them next. Or turned the stick on them.
    Faraz, six years old, took a deep breath.
    â€œB-b-b-b-bismillahir-r-r-r-r-rahmanir-r-r-rr-r-raheem-m-m,” he stammered, tears stinging his eyes.
    Imam
Shakir shook his head in frustration. “You don’t practise, Faraz! You lazy boy!” He picked up the little stick he kept on the bench at the front of the room.