"She's standing still, waiting it out, Trying to escape the storm in which she's caught,"

"Well," Khalid said awkwardly.

He was seated across from me, leaning forward, twisting nervously at his fingers. This whole set up could not have been more uncomfortable. Ami and Aunty Lina were sitting in the dining room, which was separated from Khalid and I by a single glass door.

It had been a few days since I'd last seen him, and now the parents had arranged this meeting. I wasn't sure what they had been expecting of it. What were we supposed to say to each other? How was this supposed to work?

"This is strange," I mumbled.

He let out a half laugh, swallowed, "Extremely."

"See," I began, "The problem is that usually, if I were trying to get to know someone, I'd ask their name and all the other basic questions. But I know your name and age and family and all that, so I don't know how to go about this."

"Yeah," he breathed, paused, "I might as well just go for it. What are your goals, like, long term?"

"Uh- I..." I stuttered, forming an answer, "I mean, I want a steady job, and I want to finish my Hifz. I guess I want... well, I want a family at some point."

I could feel heat rush into my cheeks because this whole thing was so nerve racking. Nothing I could have said would have sounded quite right, because nothing could be right in this situation.

"What are yours?" I mumbled.

He inhaled sharply, but his voice was strangely comforting when it came out. Maybe it was that he had heard the nerves in my voice and this had reassured him that this anxiety wasn't one sided.

Whatever the cause, it was steady and warm and soft, and I liked it.

"For work, well, I mean, I just got my first consulting job, so-" he didn't complete his sentence as he should have, the ending implied.

"Oh, yeah!" I exclaimed, remembering, "Congratulations on that, by the way."

"Thanks," he said, but didn't look happy.

"How'd you get into business?" I asked, relieved to feel the conversation begin to flow as it should.

"My dad," he gave a thin smile, "because he works in it. My parents had some suggestions for careers, and consulting just seemed to make the most sense."

"Was there..." I hesitated, and because I didn't want to look like I was prying, even though I was definitely prying, "Was there anything else you wanted to get into?"

"Yeah," he bit his lip, "Art, actually."

"Like, painting?" I asked in surprise.

"Yes," he nodded, "But, I mean, there's no money in it."

"There could be," I murmured.

"I would have to be incredibly successful," he shook his head, "It's just too risky."

"But it doesn't have to be all or nothing, does it?" I asked, "Couldn't you at least try putting some of your paintings in competitions and things? And then if you get more exposure you might be able to do it full time and make a decent living."

"I could," he flushed, "The thing is, I haven't really told my parents."

"Oh." I raised an eyebrow, "Why?"

"You know desi (a term that refers to South Asians) parents," he muttered, "Becoming an artist isn't a real job to them."

I wished that I could say I didn't understand, but I did. My parents had always been pretty supportive of whatever career their children chose, but I was well aware of the fact that for many desi parents the careers that meant anything to them were fairly limited. Art was definitely not included on the list.

"Anyway," Khalid said, "aside from that, I want to take a few Islamic courses, and I also want a family."

I nodded, quiet.

"Do you want to travel at all?" He asked.

"I love travelling," I murmured, "Do you?"

"I do too. Where do you want to go?"

"There are a few places. British Columbia, for one, but also places like Kenya." I paused, "I've actually been to Kenya, but I was too young to remember, so I want to go again. What about you?"

"Spain," he answered, "and I'd like to take a road trip all over Canada, but it would be a lot of driving."

"Yeah," I nodded, "Shuayb actually got this train pass for the summer, and he's planning to go to west coast with Hana after the wedding."

Hana was Shuayb's fiancé, and they were to be wed this summer.

I knew her fairly well, because they had been engaged a while. Hana didn't live near us, and so her and Shuayb decided they wanted to wait until after she had finished studying to get married, so neither of them would be uprooted nearly so much.

"Would you want to do something like that?" He asked.

"I would," I shrugged, "but it seems unlikely."

"Why?"

"I don't think any of my friends would want to, and my parents wouldn't be too excited about me going alone."

He looked straight at me, a small smile on his lips, "Maybe we can go together one day, inshallah."