Holding up my threatening note, Kerr outlined, for Mom’s benefit, what I’d done, while I stayed mute, staring so hard at Fencer’s shoes, willing two holes to be burned in them, that he shifted uncomfortably a few times.

What do you think of how she handles her encounters with the woman on the plane and the man at the pool?In the summer after graduation, Autumn and Finny reconnect and are finally ready to be more than friends. I promised Mom and Dad I wouldn’t make a scene, so I’ve kept my responses limited to unrelenting smiles, but now… I think it’s time to get to her. Both novels were named best YA books of the year by various media including Entertainment Weeklyand Kirkus Reviews. Now I was standing in my foyer in Doha in front of a girl I’d first noticed a continent away in London, wondering what to say next. Zayneb is an 18-year-old hijabi from Indiana—and she was just suspended for standing up to her Islamophobic teacher.

Maybe if I looked like a happy Muslim teen, someone would offer to trade places with Hateful Woman or even with me. That’s where my sister, Sadia, goes, and she promised to move out of her dorm so we could get a place together. Adam has a serious attack of MS, and Zayneb needs support and understanding when she learns that her Pakistani grandmother, on her way to a wedding, was killed in an American drone strike gone terribly wrong. Love From A to Z is the bighearted, wildly charming, painfully real love story I’ve been waiting for.

Perhaps it was because of the late hour, but the link was oddly intriguing to a girl looking for thirteenth-century hijab styles: Al-Qazwini’s Catalogue of Life as It Existed in the Islamic World, 1275 AD. Setting her purse down on the floor, slam, snapping the seat pocket in front of her to punch her newspaper in, pow, pulling her seat belt strap from under her, yank.

The tools are on my side, spread across my desk mostly, but somehow the things I make end up on his desk while they wait to be finished. Part of the coat she was sitting on stuck out into the aisle—cutesy for her, but if I’d let that happen?I saw her by my locker, waiting for me at lunch, as she’d done almost every day for the past few years. Yes, or, to put it more precisely, you can say that it looks like the majority of those countries follow Islam. She stepped out in front of me, into the aisle, her eyes on other passengers, her head shaking hard in an attempt to solicit sympathy for her plight.

That’s where my sister, Sadia, goes, and she promised to move out of her dorm so we could get a place together. Yesterday I took the thin pieces of grooved balsa wood and fit them together in a grid pattern inside the box I’d already made. The brilliant-blue-hijabed girl stopped tapping away on her phone and pulled out her Marvels and Oddities journal, propped it on her carry-on suitcase, and began writing in it without pause, without glancing around, a frown on her face. I closed my eyes and brought the bunny-white, bunny-soft blanket up over my nose, even over my eyes, trying to hold Daadi’s face still in my head.Besides, if my big sister, Sadia, were here with me, she would text, Lower your gaze like a good Muslim, Zu-zu. I’m going to try to leave the angry part of me here for the next two weeks, I said, turning back to the suitcase. She didn’t say it outright, but I’m pretty sure she was worried I’d pass it on somehow and ruin everything.