Drari

Weekend

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Ever since Malik left to live on campus for his studies, the house felt surprisingly quiet and empty despite the fact that three, living and breathing people still lived there.

The household was simple and common. A husband, a wife and two sons. Four people made up this small family and yet, with the liveliest and most sociable of them away, the house seemed to be lacking something. 

Haytham did, indeed, feel quite bored without his brother. Though he wouldn't admit it, his parents were aware of his thoughts. Now, he had no one to annoy at home and while he was brave, his bravery was not significant enough for him to challenge his parents' patience. He was a calm and trouble-free child after all. Unless Malik was involved. His brother was good at bringing him out of his shell.

Thus, Haytham waited. Every weekend, his older brother would return home. He didn't understand why had to go through the trouble of living on campus when his university was built in the same, damn city. That's simply wasting resources but Malik didn't seem to care and was pretty happy about his arrangements.

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Friday, noon, the sound of rustling keys and door being unlocked resonated in the hall. Malik already managed to smell lunch from miles away but it must have been the result of the whole neighborhood combined. He still preferred his Mother's cooking though and felt pretty grateful to God for allowing him to have a clear schedule on Friday afternoon. Thanks to this happy coincidence, he is able to go back home around noon and enjoy his Mother's masterfully made couscous.

Malik lazily threw his bag by the now, closed, door and left for the kitchen downstairs, from where he could hear the sound of pressured steam and quick, regular chopping.

"I'm home ma," he announced to avoid startling his Mother by his sudden appearance. 

His voice managed to make the woman's focus on vegetables, break. She turned and grinned at her eldest son as she dry-cleaned her hands in her old apron. Malik simply took her hand with a touch as light as a feather in a quick caress before he bought his own fingers to his lips and left a quick peck on them.

"Good to see you little rascal!" she said before ruffling his hair, then, her pleased expression turned into a slight frown "Is it me or did you lose weight?" 

Malik rolled his eyes at her, "You say that every time you see me."

"That's because you don't eat enough! Your school's food must be awful!" she scoffed.

Malik simply shrugged as he reached out at the recently chopped carrot on the cooking board and snacked on it. "I don't eat much from the cafet'."

Mother sighed and looked at her son helplessly. Children should be fed. That's her motto if it ever sounds like one. "Kids these days...only eating junk and whatnots. Allah Y hfed."

Malik eyed her sheepishly. His Mother thinks he doesn't eat enough while his father calls him "Piggy". Who is telling the truth in the end?

As both son and mother continued to chat in the kitchen, a flat voice was heard at the door. "Ma, here's the lben you ask—oh. You're here?"

"Am I not welcomed?" teased Malik. 

The newcomer, Haytham, simply glared at his brother before walking to the fridge and storing the newly bought goods in it. Of course, he would never admit to anyone that he was, in fact, quite happy to see his brother. During the last two weeks, he knew that Malik didn't even take one step outside of his dorm as he was busy studying for exams. He always sounded carefree but was actually quite diligent. 

Malik turned to his Mother and jokingly whined: "See how your son treats me?" 

"You know full well that of all of us, he is the happiest to see you!" replied Mother without looking up from her task.

Haytham looked faintly shocked as he spat "Nonsense!"

Mother simply smiled and didn't answer. 

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"Who is the bastard who left his bag at the door?!"

The sudden roar startled the three people currently hanging out in the kitchen, busy listening to Malik's retelling of his latest days on campus while they waited for lunch to be cooked. 

"Ba's back," mumbled Haytham.

Mother eyed her eldest son disapprovingly. "Was it you?"

"Yep. The bastard's me," truthfully answered Malik with a faint smile as he stood up from his chair "I'll be upstairs if you need to buy something just ask Haytham. Such a helpful child." he added as his smile grew bigger and his tone, more playful.

Haytham simply groaned in response but he still stood up to return to his room. As they both headed up to the hall, Malik swore he heard his brother mutter "Glad you're not dead yet idiot."