A.N: Ok...it was big. Very big. But you know, that's all the better for you guys! Thank you all for your reviews; I reply to them via Private Messaging and I know that FFN doesn't always tell you when you've got a message so if you ever wonder what I've said then it's in there.

THIRTEEN

are they

The first time she met Leah would go down as one of the more eventful meetings of her life. It was below the terrible news, like hearing about her mum's illness, and above moving to America. She was still trying to decide whether it was higher or lower than when she'd told her dad she wanted to stop wearing her scarf.

Leah's reaction had the same feel as her dad's angry silence. Only Leah wasn't being silently angry.

The woman was intimidating; she towered over Naima - even if she wasn't sitting on a log - and it made Naima feel all the smaller as she sat there in Leah's shadow. Her incredibly long hair was up in a high ponytail that seemed to be tight enough to pull at her classically structured face and her dark eyes were almost charcoal black with anger.

Naima wasn't sure her own eyes had ever blazed dark with emotion before. She'd thought it was just something that only happened in cheesy books. A shorthand to make sure the reader was fully aware of how emotive that character was being.

"You dumped me for her?" Leah hissed in quiet anger.

"No, I didn't," Sam said unflinchingly.

Naima had to give Sam props for not shrinking under Leah's gaze, but she supposed when you were a large 6-foot-something man then you didn't need to be intimidated by the physicality of a woman. Though Leah seemed like she was almost his height anyway.

Maybe her theory about Native American super soldiers wasn't as glib as she had intended if half the population was that tall. Or maybe they just had really, really , good genes.

"So, what? You lift a few weights and suddenly you're too good for everyone?"

Sam's lips tightened and he withheld the impulse to sigh loudly. He knew this was coming, regardless of how much he'd wished it wasn't.

"And to top it off, I had to hear it from Emily?" Leah continued.

"That's not how it played out Leah. Don't try and twist things around. I spoke to you, I told you I couldn't be with you anymore," Sam said, trying to appeal to her logical side.

Naima winced as she saw Leah draw herself up further. That was not a good way to go about having a conversation with an angry woman. But despite the full-blown anger, there was little that Naima was able to pick up from the context of the conversation and it left her feeling out of place.

"Why did you come here?" Sam asked. If she had only stayed in Washington. "Haven't you got a few more weeks of school left?"

Naima was pretty sure that she probably shouldn't be sitting there, privy to what seemed like a very important conversation (argument).

"You think I'm gonna make things easy on you? So you can be with her?" Leah spat.

A bit of spit actually landed on Naima's jeans, turning the light blue a few shades darker in the place that it had landed and she subtly brushed it away. Would it look too rude if she started picking at the gold nail polish?

But this was the second time that Leah had said something to the effect of her and Sam dating and Sam hadn't said anything to dissuade her so Naima took it into her own hands. It was possible that it would drain the tension somewhat and that horrible gnawing feeling in her stomach would go away.

"We're just friends," Naima said. "Sam's been helping -"

The blazing dark eyes turned on her and she fought with everything not to shrink down from it. She was not someone to be looked down upon, regardless of how angry the other person was.

"Was I talking to you?" It was a rhetorical question. "No, I wasn't so I suggest you shut the fuck up!"

"Leah," Sam growled. Naima had never heard him so angry.

Leah turned to Sam and her face took on a hauntingly cruel smile. "You did always think you were better than this place, didn't you? Better than us. It makes sense that you'd want something exotic."

Naima hated that word. Exotic. Like she was something to be pawned at. The word suggested something alien. Something not quite like us and it had been used on her too frequently as a way to get around that she didn't look normal. That her mix wasn't natural.

The word left a bad taste in her mouth and she did her best not to glare at Leah for using it. She had thought that Native American women were tired of being fetishized themselves.

"If your slut thinks -"

Naima stood up and positioned herself directly in front of Leah. She was right; Leah was so much taller than her that it must have been a comical sight.

"Excuse me," Naima said. Her voice was laced with steel and punctuated by her accent. Even to her own ears. "I've done nothing to you for you to call me a slut. Actually, I've never seen you in my life. So I don't think you get to call me that."

Leah snorted. "I wasn't talking to you."

But it was fine that she was talking about Naima like she wasn't there? Naima tried to push away the shaking in her hands, but she how to without drawing attention to them.

Leah was out for blood and she couldn't let the woman know how much she was being affected.

"I think that you and Sam need to have this conversation in private and nothing about that involves me. But since it doesn't seem like you can do that at the beach where everyone can see you, you should go away."

"I don't think so," Leah laughed. "This is my home. I'm not going anywhere."

Naima stared at her and Leah stared back. Now there wasn't anger in her eyes but a spitefulness that left Naima unable to say anything.

"Then we'll go," Sam said.

"What?" Leah asked.

"Naima's right. If you really want to talk then we can. But not here and not now."

Naima whipped her head around to see Sam. Regardless of whether he realised it or not, he was siding himself with her. And whatever Leah's intentions for coming back here when she was maybe supposed to be at college, that was sending a big sign in girl code.

And Naima wasn't sure she wanted to be the cause of that.

She didn't know a lot - or anything other than the tidbits of information Sam had let slip a couple of times, and that was even assuming the ex he'd been talking about was Leah - about their relationship but she knew that people didn't get as angry as Leah was if they didn't have things they needed to say.

Naima found herself opening her mouth to let Sam know that she could go but the words wouldn't come out. Part of the reason was because she didn't want to give Leah the satisfaction of getting her way, especially after the general rudeness that was associated with calling someone a slut.

As if she were a homewrecker. As if she and Sam were even dating, to begin with! But mostly it was because over the last few months she'd spent with Sam, she had come to realise that he didn't say things that he didn't mean. And when those words were a direction, they very often translated into sheer stubbornness.

If Sam wanted to stay, he would and there was nothing anyone could do to stop that.

Leah seemed like she understood that too because she stopped and scowled. "Fine. I'm here for a week."

"Alright," Sam said.

Then he took Naima's hand and gently pulled her backwards until she was in stride with him.

They didn't say anything until they got to the car and Naima had to give him the keys. "You drive," she said.

"Naima?"

"Fuck," she whispered. She could feel her hands and legs trembling, and her heart was beating too fast in her chest. She tried to take a deep breath and process the sensations. Categorise them in her head.

Slowly it worked.

"Are you ok?" Sam asked. He came towards her, looking her over in the meantime. His hands were outstretched, still holding onto the keys as if he didn't know what to do with them. Or like he was ready to catch her if she collapsed.

"I'm ok," Naima said. "I just...I haven't had much face-to-face confrontation in my life." She had to breathe in between the sentences. Much of the sensation reminded her of trying to talk after a PE class. "I don't get into a lot of fights."

Sam frowned. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Not your fault," Naima responded. She smiled up at him. "It's probably good for me - you know - to not be a scaredy-cat."

Sam, still frowning, pulled her into a hug hoping that she wouldn't mind. She didn't seem to, in fact, she held onto him tighter. "You might be going into shock."

"Yeah, probably," Naima said.

Her voice was muffled because of his shirt, but even still he could hear the thickness behind it and the tremors ran through her body. Was she really so affected by confrontation?

In the distance, Sam could smell Leah coming towards them and he mentally let out a string of curses. "Come on," he said. "Let's get you warm."

"Ok," she said tearfully.

When he pulled away, he saw tears streaming down her face and he cursed more. Sam guided her into the passenger side of her car and quickly adjusted everything he needed to have it be more comfortable for him to drive.

He saw Leah come down the path just as he reversed out of the parking spot and he paid no attention to her anger. He could deal with her later.

Naima was quiet for most of the drive back but when Sam turned down a road she didn't recognise, she spoke. "Where are we going?"

"To my house."

"Really? Why?"

"I didn't think you'd want your sister to see you like this."

He had a point. Eve would get worried about her if she came home crying, even if she went straight to her room.

But she had never gone to Sam's house before and it felt weird to her. Like they were crossing some sort of line. It felt like the first time she'd done something she 'wasn't supposed to' like wear a short skirt or go to a party, or get in a date's car.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

Naima was snapped out of her thoughts. "Uh - yeah. I'm ok."

When they pulled up outside his house, Naima opened the door and almost sluggishly walked behind Sam. She felt so tired suddenly.

Sam opened the door and walked in. She waited for him to close the front door and followed him into his living room. She tried to take it in but it felt like there was not enough space in her head to do much of anything other than sit down on his sofa.

"What's wrong Naima?" he asked.

She looked up at him and noted that he just looked so worried so she tried to reassure him with a smile. "Honestly, I'm ok. I just - I really haven't been in many confrontations like that before."

Sam nodded and suddenly she felt sleepy.

"I think you need something sugary," he said.

Naima hummed and Sam went through the door. She heard him opening cupboards and packets rustling. When he came back he was holding a few different chocolate types.

Do you want Hershey's?" he asked.

Naima pulled a face. "That's actually disgusting. Why would you offer that?"

Sam laughed. "Kit Kat?"

Naima looked at the wrapper properly. She did want Kit Kat, but she had a feeling it wouldn't taste like the ones back in London. The chocolate part of it would be too bitter and that was the best part about a Kit Kat. "No thanks."

"MnMs?" he asked.

"What kind?"

"Peanut," Sam said. It seemed like the Naima who was coming down off an adrenaline rush was a picky eater.

"Why would you have those? I thought you were allergic to peanuts?" she said.

"What?" Sam asked.

He seemed to be caught off guard and it made Naima pause for a moment to really look at him. "Yeah," she said. "You told me you'd had a bad reaction to them when you were a teenager."

Sam could have smacked himself. He'd told her that without thinking and after he'd shifted, the allergy had been gone. He'd very cheerfully gone back to eating peanut butter and jelly for a little while.

"I grew out of it." It was the first thing he could think of.

"You grew out of a severe peanut allergy?" Naima asked.

"I guess so."

That didn't seem right to her, but in her sleep-addled brain, there wasn't enough space to think it through much more. Instead she nodded. "I wish I would grow out of my hayfever."

"Well, you've still got a bit of growing to do," Sam said, forcing a chuckle.

"Shut up!"

"Here." He passed her the yellow bag. "Eat your candy."

"It's chocolate."

"If you say so."

Naima munched on the MnMs quietly, only pausing for a moment when Sam sat down beside her. But this was normal territory, they'd done that often enough, so she went back to eating. Soon she was done and she looked around for a place to put the packet. Sam handed his hand out and she gave it to him with a 'thanks'.

She still felt sleepy, and it was only enhanced by the puffiness of the area surrounding her eyes. The puffiness pushed down on her eyelids making it that much harder to keep them open.

"Do you want a blanket?" Sam asked.

"I shouldn't fall asleep," she mumbled.

"Are you tired?" he asked.

She gave a slow nod.

"Then sleep Naima. You need it."

He made it sound so good, sleep. It was easy. And she was already really tired. She could take a nap - an hour or two - and then she could go back home.

And Sam was so warm, she didn't even need a blanket. Actually, she was the warmest she'd been in a while.

When Naima woke up it was dark outside. That was saying something because it was June and it didn't get dark in June till at least 7 pm. That meant she'd slept for at least three hours.

She sat up and felt a blanket slide off her. Realising that Sam must have put it on her at some point, Naima blinked the sleep out of her eyes and looked around. Sam was in the corner of the front room with a little light trained on a book, reading.

"Finally awake?" he asked.

"Yes?" she asked, drawn out. "Did I wake up before?"

"You sleep talk, did you know that?" he asked, smiling.

Naima pulled a face. She had thought she'd grown out of that but obviously the sleep talking had come back in full force. Maybe it was triggered by trauma or something. "Did I say anything weird?"

"You told me there was porridge in the fridge. I thank you and you seemed to go back to sleep." Sam laughed at Naima's groan and put his book down.

Naima lifted the blanket off herself "What's the time?" she asked as she folded the blanket up.

"Just gone 8. You hungry?"

She considered his offer. Her dad would probably start getting antsy if she was out too long, especially as there was nothing really to do in La Push or Forks so his brain would jump to something dumb, but she was hungry. Even before their run-in with Leah she had been hungry so now she was actually starving.

"Yeah. What have you got?"

"Not much," he said. "But I have the pizza place on speed dial."

Her stomach groaned angrily at the automatic image and taste of pizza brought to mind and Sam grinned like he had won something big. "Fine. Pizza then. I just need to let them know I'll be back later."

He nodded and reached for his phone. Naima did the same for hers asking him for directions to the bathroom. She input the numbers and brought the phone to her ear. It rang a few times before Eve answered.

"Salamu Alaykum." Eve's voice sounded strained.

"Walaikum Salaam."

"What's up? You're usually home a lot earlier than this. Everything ok?"

Naima hummed. "Is dad there?" she asked.

There was a pause on the other end of the line and Naima could hear someone talking. He was home. "He's in the kitchen. Why?"

"I just wanted to let you guys know I'm with a friend and lost track of time. We're going to get some food now and I'll be back after that."

Eve relayed the message and then she came back to the phone. "Dad wants to know if you're with Sam."

"Yes, I'm with Sam," she said without much hesitation. It had passed her mind to lie but her dad always knew when she was lying and she didn't want to have to deal with the outcome of that. She also didn't want to make Eve lie either.

"What time will you be home?" Eve asked softly.

"I don't know. No later than 10, I imagine."

"That's…later than normal."

Naima held back a sigh. Eve had been asking about where she was more and more lately and it was getting on her nerves. They'd not really talked about their fight, but it was still hanging over their heads some; Naima wasn't going to apologise for being around Sam and Eve wasn't going to get over it.

"It takes time to order and for the food to arrive. I'm a slow eater." She hoped her dad wouldn't ask where they were because he really would start lecturing her if he found out she was at his house alone. And Eve would be even more bitchy about it.

"Fine. I'll see you at 10 then."

"Alright. I left some keema defrosting in the fridge. It's

probably mostly thawed by now."

"Yeah, Dad found it already."

"Alright then. Bye."

"Bye," Eve said.

Naima ended the call with a sigh of relief. That hadn't been too hard, though she wondered why her dad hadn't asked to speak with her directly. Maybe he was getting mellower in his age.

She snorted. That wasn't likely.

Niama used the bathroom and then left, going back to Sam who had turned the front room lights on.

"Ordered the pizza," he said. "A hot veggie for you, meat lovers for me."

Naima hummed. "Thanks. How much do I owe you?"

He waved her off. "Don't worry. It's probably about the same price as being accosted by Leah like that. I'm sorry by the way."

Naima took her spot back on the sofa, shaking her head all the way. "Not your fault I almost had a panic attack," she said. "It's embarrassing."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, frowning. "You stood up for yourself. I don't know what there is to be embarrassed about."

It was a sweet compliment but she couldn't accept it.

Naima knew she could stand up for others. She had done it her fair share at school and among her peers when others were being bullied. Bullies were persistent, it turned out. It hadn't always resulted in the same panicky feeling that she'd gotten earlier but most of the time it did make her want to throw up.

But that was the easy part. Speaking up for others was easy. There was injustices that happened all over and her parents had taught her that; Islam asked you to stand up to the injustices, even if it's not the easy thing to do. As a matter of principle, do good. Don't oppress others. Have courtesy and kindness to all.

But it was so much harder to speak out for herself. So much more difficult to keep grace and calm in the face of someone saying horrible things to her.

"I don't think so," she said quietly, looking down at the gold polish. It was all almost gone from how much she'd picked at it earlier. "I'm quiet when it really matters."

"That's not what I've seen," Sam said firmly. "You're always ready to say the things that need to be said. Always."

Naima looked up. She could feel the smile tugging lamely at her face in all its self-deprecating glory. "If you say so."

Sam frowned again. "I do. And if you don't think so I'll just have to poke you every time you start in on yourself like that!"

"Do that and I'll sic Eve on you," Naima said grinning. "She's been really curious about where I'm going lately. Something about you still being a serial killer."

Sam looked slightly horrified at that. "Don't...be offended," he said, "but she's a bit intense."

Naima laughed at the polite way he'd said it. "She's scornful is what she is. An intensely scornful judgy little sixteen-year-old."

Sam followed in her laughter. "I guess so. Sounds like someone I know."

"Do you know many of them?" Naima asked.

"Just one other. He's pretty awful most of the time."

"Well maybe we just put them in a room and they can try to out-glare each other," she said.

"I like that plan."

"I'll set it up."

Possible new concept:

- standing against all injustices: This is an ideology - and I would also go as far as saying its a commandment because there are things about it in the Qur'an (the holy book) - that in my experience is not often taught. I only really learnt about it from my mum this year during the Black Lives Matter protests. The Qur'an says: "O ye who believe! Stand out firmly for justice, as witnesses to Allah, even as against yourselves, or your parents, or your kin, and whether it be (against) rich or poor: for Allah can best protect both. Follow not the lusts (of your hearts), lest ye swerve, and if ye distort (justice) or decline to do justice, verily Allah is well-acquainted with all that ye do." [Quran 4:135]

It's arguably easier to stand up for what is right when you don't think it affects you or if it's a 'big' injustice but no-one ever talks about the 'small' ones that take place between family members or the ones you ignore because it's convenient to do so. I've been trying to do that myself this year and...it's been a rough time.