...
"Rock bottom teaches you lessons mountaintops never will."

No, it doesn't. I don't know what those poets are smoking when they write crap like this. Rock bottom sucks, take it from someone who lives here.

...

The next day at school, as Malika's eyes met Dahlia's they both froze in place, not knowing what to do.

Were they still allowed to hate each other, or were they now sort of... friends?

They were in the primary hallway dotted by classrooms on both sides, right in the middle of the busy student body making their way to lessons. Dahlia offered her half a smile, simultaneously Malika waved at her halfheartedly. A rush of students flooded in, blocking their view of each other, saving both from the burden of starting the interaction.

Malika ended up in the Ahmad household after facing Imran the day before. She was beyond upset. Dahlia didn't seem to know what to do, so she ended up inviting Malika to her house. She didn't refuse since the last thing she wanted was to be alone.

Malika ended up spending almost half of her day in the Ahmad household. They were definitely overwhelming and had no respect for privacy, as Dahlia had warned her. The sisters took turns to barge into her room, once in a while Malika would hear Ibrahim's cry in the hallway calling Lily Ahmad a tyrant, as she continued to threaten him to release his baby pictures online.

Dahlia repeatedly apologized for the noise, but truth be told, Malika didn't mind at all.

As Malika started the tedious cycle of attending lessons, she overheard the news that Ibrahim had been thrown out of the football team. This kind of disciplinary action was unheard of except for cases of severe rule violation.

Malika knew this was definitely Imran's doing. He had enough influence in the team to be able to pull something like this off.

As she was washing her hands in the ladies' room she heard a few girls whisper. "...heard it from Safiya last night. Huh, seems like Ibrahim Ahmad's not the saint he pretends to be."

Malika was seething in anger from the unfairness of it all. She had a horrible feeling in her stomach. Guilt wasn't something she felt often but she couldn't help but feel responsible for him. It wasn't bad enough that she had her own reputation ruined, she had dragged him along the mud as well.

Malika spent the rest of her day sulking. It was around lunch time when she crossed paths with her friends.

Majority of the students were on their way to the cafeteria for lunch. Dahlia halted on track as she noticed Malika moving with the crowd, maintaining a fairly healthy distance with the rest of the student body.

Dahlia reached out to her as she came closer. "Why don't you join us today?" she asked hesitantly

Malika relented, discomfort lurching in her stomach.

As the silence prolonged, Layla stepped forward, her lunchbox tightly clutched between her hands. "Yes, we'd love it if you joined us," she piped in. "It's been a while since we ate lunch together."

Malika and Layla stared at each other, numerous emotions swirling in their eyes. Then she looked behind them and eyed the girl standing at the back. Farrah had maintained a couple feet worth of distance, the unease evident in her posture. The sight of her ex-best friend still brought pain to Malika's chest.

Following her gaze, Layla looked over her shoulder. She let out a sigh. Then she turned her face to Malika again. "I'll handle Farrah. She's just being stubborn." She rolled her eyes. "You know how she is."

Malika did, which was why she knew this wasn't just Farrah being stubborn. It was about what Farrah was raised to believe was right and appropriate, and the fact that Malika barely met those criteria when she didn't have several viral pictures of her on the internet.

True to her nature, Farrah spat, "I'm not sitting with you guys if you're sitting with her."

"It's fine," Malika responded, faking nonchalance. "It's too crowded in there for my taste anyway," she beckoned to the cafeteria.

With that, she spun on her heels and headed towards the exit gate. She was used to eating by herself anyway. A moment later, she heard footsteps behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Dahlia running to catch up.

Malika's eyes widened in surprise. "You really have a knack for trouble, don't you?"

Dahlia finally managed to match her rhythm. "You have no idea," she panted. "I have been cursed for life to only make bad choices," she quipped.

A small smile formed on Malika's lips as she turned her head again. They got out of the hallway and into the fresh air - as fresh as it could get considering the city's highly polluted environment. Malika lead them to her spot behind the bleachers, the hijabi still slightly out of breath from running a while ago.

They sat under the bleachers and peered at the open sky. This was her and Farrah's spot. This was where they used to sit on days they rode home together, hiding from the older kids, while they waited for Salman to get out of cricket practice, or detention. The two girls often discussed what it would be like to finally be high school students. They made so many plans together.

Malika wondered if Farrah remembered the spot.

Dahlia started unwrapping her sandwich covered in foil as soon as they sat down. She raised one half and offered it to Malika. "Want one?"

Malika shook her head. "I'm not hungry," she muttered. She rarely had any appetite these days.

The hijabi started munching. That heat was still there but a cool wind was blowing due to the rain the previous day. Malika clutched the edge of her seat and leaned forwards, eyes on the horizon. "Farrah couldn't have reacted well when you left."

Dahlia swallowed before answering. "Not really, but what can she do?" she shrugged, taking another big bite from her sandwich.

Malika looked at her, honey-colored eyes full of curiosity. "Why?" she breathed. "I mean, what I did, and how I dress - my lifestyle can't align with your beliefs. So why did you choose to follow me out?"

"You want my honest reply? You looked so sad back there I felt bad for you."

She pursed her lips as guilt bloomed in her heart, again. Dahlia's reply was crass and Malika hated when people took pity on her, but she also was reminded of how she had iced out the hijabi for the better half of the year; yet, this girl still found sympathy for her in her heart.

"Goodness, Dahlia," Malika let out a trembling chuckle. "You truly are crazy. I don't think even my family would've pitied me enough to stand by my side in fear of tarnishing their own reputation."

That was one of the most genuine things that came out of Malika's mouth this year, and it made her feel naked.

"You're right when you say how you dress don't align with my beliefs neither does your lifestyle choices," Dahlia said again. "But, I don't think that justifies anyone treating you poorly. As a muslim and a human being I can't, in good judgment, support harassment and bullying in any form. As for my reputation, though it's something I'm still working on, but when you choose to enslave yourself to Allah you free yourself of people's opinions of you."

There was a pregnant pause between them after. The wind picked up its pace, the sun was rising higher.

"Besides." Dahlia's eyes danced playfully as she met her gaze again. "I think I've already become an outcast by being seen with you one too many times. There's no going back from here for me."

"The pictures are fake." Malika mumbled. The confession diminished the mirth from the hijabi's eyes.

"They're edited."

Dahlia rose her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh."

Malika didn't know what made her want to confess that. After how Farrah reacted, she realized no one was going to believe her. So she didn't bother to clarify. The people in this school loved to hate her, and she had given them enough reasons to; so they had no reason to believe her truth. But the constant false statements going on about her was starting to wear her out. Malika wanted at least one person to understand her truth.

"I mean, I assumed the majority of them were. But even the original one, the one posted by Imran?" Dahlia asked.

"They're all fake."

"Malika, how come you didn't tell anyone about this?" Dahlia asked incredulously.

"What's the point, Della?" She shrugged.

"We could get help from the school authorities," she responded. "We can get the pictures down. This is what you should have done in the first place!"

Malika scoffed. "The authorities are never helpful."

"Imran needs to be stopped and punished. That jerkface," she muttered through gritted teeth. "Farrah was right to call him that. You can't let him get away with it." Dahlia met Malika's eyes again, determination flashing in hers.

"Do you know what authorities will do?" Malika asked. "They'll react exactly how Farrah reacted. They'll bring up my record, the length of my skirt. They'll say I was asking for it. There's no way I'm ever putting myself through that," she said adamantly.

"But you're the victim in all this," Dahlia tried to reason.

"Please," Malika cried, rolling her eyes. "Think about how some of the teachers treat me already. Do you think anyone will take my side over Imran's? Do you honestly believe I'll get any help?"

"What about your family? Couldn't you seek help from them?"

Malika's face darkened. Who would she go to? The mother who was always busy or the brother who was absent?

"That's not a possibility."

Dahlia fell quiet. Conflict appeared in her eyes. Then she let out a sigh of defeat. The anger and outrage exuding from her turned into frustration. "I understand your hesitation." Then she tried to reason. "But think about this, the pictures and the outrageous comments are still bound within private online groups consisting of only our classmates. However, they won't stay confined for long. When the photos spread, it would be harder to take them down. And the internet is forever, Malika."

Malika looked at the horizon again, clear and blue, and out of her reach. The wind was beating against their faces now. The hijabi was still staring at her. Little words exchanged between them after that.

Malika lay in the dark. Evening had descended hours ago, filling her empty apartment with darkness. The  only illumination in the room was provided by the television in front of her. She was on the sofa in the living room, empty eyes on the random episode of Friends playing.

There was a burden on her chest that seemed to get heavier with each passing day. Malika tried to recall a time she wasn't so miserably shunned and broken. Her mind went back to simpler summers with Salman and Farrah; when they used to run after the ice cream man with the tinkling bell, spend all evening playing hide and seek and Salman would come up with new antics to drive Farrah up the wall.

All her life, Malika considered Farrah her anchor, and Salman her sail - two different but integral parts of her life. Her brother made her believe she could do anything, and her best friend grounded her to reality when she flew too close to the sun.

She thought back to the years when she used to have regular sleepovers with Farrah and Layla. They used to watch tacky Bollywood films and paint their toenails. They would stay up half the night doing absolutely nothing but giggle at silly things and then spend the next day sleeping in half their classes as Farrah chided them.

Those were simpler times, innocent times and Malika didn't have half the followers she did now on Instagram - but right now, she would do anything to get those days back.

Malika's phone beeped, breaking her out of her isolating thoughts. She raised her head from her arm and picked up her cell phone from the table. The name flashing across made her skip a heart beat.

Salman Bashir.

A/N: After my little rant in the last chapter so many of you decided to leave sweet comments! Thank you! You girls are the best T_T.