The walk home after school.

"Man today was exhausting. Why does every teacher enjoy giving us homework? I swear these motherfuckers love being sadistic! SADISTIC I TELL YOU!"

Zara gives a small chuckle. Jonas loved to give long rants on just about anything and she thought it was one of the most wonderful things about him. Jonas, for all his obliviousness, was well aware even as a kid about how much Zara loved his rants. He'd always go the extra mile to make it more engaging with exaggerated movements and funny faces.

The 1.3 mile walk from home to school and back again with Jonas was the most anticipated part of the day for Zara. Every now and then while walking they would brush against each other a little bit. This "brushing" would increase in frequency with the distance from their homes and decrease as they got closer to it. It was something that happened naturally without their awareness about it.

The rest of the walk home was listening to more rants and conspiracy theories about how Fark Zuckerturd might be an alien reptile in human disguise and how Nill Gates murdered Beffrey Jepstein to prevent him from revealing his pedophilic past. Oh how Zara loved to hear him come up with newer and crazier theories every single day.

"...and THAT is the real reason why Jepstein didn't kill himself!" Jonas concludes.

"That is definitely a solid theory." Zara says with a smile, impressed by the details he went through to explain it. Her smile is short lived though as it instantly evaporates the moment she sees her lanky father standing with his arms crossed in front of the door of her house, looking directly at the two of them.

Jonas sees her change in expression and follows her eyeline to see her father standing stoically. He was wearing a regular formal shirt tucked into his old timey high waisted tweed pants. This was just his regular home attire that he wore everyday. The only thing that changed was the color combination.

You wouldn't think that he was a muslim just by looking at him. He looked exactly like your stereotypical white man from the 1970s, with the clean shaven face, bridged glasses and light brown hair. Definitely very handsome, although it was clear that the war had taken its toll on him. He was missing his pinky and ring finger on his left hand with scars running right down to his elbow. His eyes were also tired and wary giving them a much older look despite him being only 36 years old.

"Do you still want me to come over for the assignment?" Jonas asks pensively.

"Yes. I'll ask Baba. I'm sure he'll agree with me."

They both walk up to the front door to face her father.

"Hello Mr. Darwish! Pretty good weather out today, right?"

Assad doesn't speak a word and continues glaring at them both while blocking the doorway.

"Baba he's just here to work on a few assignments that we've been given by the school."

"Lately, it seems all of your assignments have been group assignments and all of your time is being spent in the company of a man. Why is that so?" It was a bit eery but Assad's voice was very much like Jonas. He spoke with a very neutral accent leaning towards Queens English. It had the same soft quality but was marred with a bit of hoarseness because of the fumes and dust he had to breathe during his time in Iraq. Zara's mother would always remark how much Jonas sounded like her husband before the war.

"I cannot help it Baba. The school gives us these assignments that need to be done as a group. And Jonas is my best friend..."

"A man and a woman CANNOT be friends. You think you can fool me with this charade of yours, roaming around like a loose woman with other men?!" the way he spoke those words softly, you would think he was being polite, but he wasn't. His words were caustic and purposefully designed to inflict maximum shame.

"Baba please! You're embarrassing me!"

Just then Zara's mother quickly opens the door to see Assad chastising the kids. She was wearing a very loose brown hijab that seemed hastily tied around her curly jet black hair and long flowing maroon colored dress with long arms, sort of like a night gown except made with a much thicker fabric that covered everything and left nothing to imagination. At least that was the intention that the 36 year old had. Her heavy set curvy body filled out the dress really nicely in some places. Jonas always had to steel himself to not look at her humongous ass or bountiful breasts, each of which could fit two of his heads. Zara was very much a copy of her mother. Except Zara was much leaner (still a little chubby) and taller.

"Assad...what is going on?"

"Mariam, why is our daughter coming home with this man nearly everyday? What are you hiding from me? You know this is absolutely haram right?"

"Assad...they are children."

"Children?! We had Zara at 18! They are not children! And if he is a child then why does Jonas stay all alone? Where are his parents?"

"Uncle they get deployed to offshore bases."

"Do your parents think that you are responsible enough to run the house for months on end all alone?"

"I... I am. I'm adult enough to do it."

"So you are an 'adult'! See Mariam, he says he's an adult! Absolutely haram!"

"Assad, kids in developed countries remain kids for longer. They never had to go through the same pains we did. Plus he is never alone. You know how I always go to check up on him and give him homemade meals. Zara and I have known him since he was a toddler. Please calm down and come inside. Jonas are you here to do assignments?"

"Yes, Aunty. We were given a group assignment for Physics and History."

"Physics, ugh. One of the most boring subjects out there."

"I used to be a physics professor Mariam!"

"I know. Aren't you glad you married me."

Assad glares at his wife, enough to burn holes through her eye sockets.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. C'mon, let the kids in." Mariam gently starts pulling at her husbands wrist. He stares daggers at the kids for a long moment before he relents and steps aside to let them in.

Jonas could still feel the eye daggers in his back as he walked into the house. Zara breathes a sigh of relief and was very thankful for her mother's presence.

Mariam really knew how to defuse her husband's anger. Zara estimated the success rate to be as high as 75%. The other 25% her father would really go of the rails like the time he came into her school to berate her in front of her classmates for not wearing the hijab as a teenager. Her mother wasn't able to get her father to calm down until Zara did what she was told. It didn't matter what the teacher or the students around him said to him, he wouldn't budge until she wore her hijab. It was one of the most humiliating moments for her made all the worse with the fact that she couldn't stay at home because of the embarrassment. She had to go to school regardless. She was very thankful that Jonas stuck with her even through those trying time.

******

Author's note: In Asian cultures generally younger people refer to known unrelated older men and women as Uncle and Aunty. Even more so if these unrelated by blood relations are closer to each other socially. Jonas calls Mariam and Assad, Aunty and Uncle respectively because that is what he was told by Mariam to call them instead of saying Mr. and Mrs. Darwish.