Forbidden Love by Norma Khouri Page A

such a complex violation of the rules, with such risks.
    “I’m just excited, aren’t you? It’s a perfect plan. They’ll never guess what we’re really up to, and you’ll be able to see Michael. We’ll even learn a little about computers in the process,” I said.
    “I don’t want to get too excited yet; I’ll only be disappointed if it doesn’t work,” said Dalia, always the more practical of the two of us. Not that she wasn’t given to crazy ideas and fantasies, she was just more methodical in implementing them
    and hid her emotions better than I did. She was my anchor and kept me grounded. I was the only one who ever noticed any slight change in her during critical times, but then again I was the only one who knew all
    her secrets. \020I ran out to the front desk, the list of numbers clutched tightly in my fist, to start making the calls.
    There were plenty of schools in Shmeisani with beginner classes on Friday and Saturday early evenings, which would be ideal. Our brothers would be watching football when we were supposed to be in class. The tuition cost far less than we’d thought it would. It wouldn’t bankrupt us.
    Now, we had only a few more barriers to get through. First, we had to lure Suhal to the salon on his way home from work, and make him our advocate. Pleading that some urgent matter had come up that she wanted his guidance on, Dalia would call on his duty as elder brother to protect and guide her.
    An angry mother with a fussy, crying child arrived for a haircut, and our workday officially began.
    We worked side by side all morning, barely saying a word and nodding an expected reply here and there in response to a customer’s question. Both of us were thinking about what we would say to Suhal. We were trying to figure out how much we should tell him about the classes. We didn’t want to say too much because it would make our plan even riskier. The less our families knew, the better. We didn’t want them calling the school to check up on us. We knew that in order to be successful we had to use a mix of careful preparation, great prudence, and a little audacity.
    By two, we were starved after keeping our minds working so hard. Food! We hurriedly locked the doors and went to the break room for lunch. I grabbed the container of maqlubeh (steamed rice topped with slices of aubergine, meat, tomato
    and roasted pine nuts) and tossed it into the microwave, and then we started planning our script for Suhal. We rehearsed, edited, and recast our strategy a dozen times in the next half-hour.
    Suddenly Dalia said, “Norma, let’s stop talking about it, it’s making me nervous and I don’t want to think about it any more. The more I think about it, the greater chance I’ll have of messing up. Let’s just eat our lunch in peace.”
    This was the first time we’d taken such an elaborate risk; we were escalating our conspiracy to a new level, dramatically increasing the chance of being found out. We finished our lunch in silence, each of us afraid to say anything more.
    Suhal walked in at six fifteen, and as soon as we saw him our insides froze. “Salem al laykum (peace unto you),” he said as he entered. After the greetings, he followed us into the break room where I began making coffee while he and Dalia sat on the couch.
    “What seems to be the problem?” he asked Dalia.
    “Well, Suhal, I chose to come to you with this because I believe that since you’re a teacher you’ll understand the importance of this better than the others. You know, Norma and I spent a lot of money on our computer. And, well, we can’t operate it well enough to use it properly. Since we’ve already made the investment in the computer, Norma and her family have decided that it would be wise for her to take
    some classes at a school in Shmeisani. What do you think?” \020”Well, if her family has already agreed to it, then I don’t see anything wrong with it. I’ve never thought you needed a computer in the