The Untainted
Chapter 9
By Olukoya Zainab
"What do you mean?" Rayyan's voice rose, sharp enough to slice through the afternoon chatter of the school canteen. "If I heard you correctly, you want to go to a party? Not on campus. Not a school event. But someone's house? Rihannat, are you alright?"
The three of them sat around the small plastic table near the window — Rayyan, Balkis, and Rihannat. Their usual spot. Their safe space.
But today, it didn't feel safe.
It felt like a courtroom.
And Rihannat was the accused.
Rayyan folded her arms, her brows drawn tight. "This is not an Islamic gathering. It's not an academic function. It's not even someone in our circle. You said it yourself — they are not in our league. So why?"
Rihannat exhaled for what felt like the hundredth time.
"It's not what you think, Rayyan."
"Then what is it?"
"I've thought about it carefully before agreeing. I'm not going there to dance. I'm not going there to mingle. I'm going for my business."
She leaned forward slightly, her voice softer now. "You both know how things are with me financially. You know I need more exposure. Fola showed my drawings to her parents. They liked them. Her family friends are coming too — people who can afford original art, not just student commissions."
She swallowed. "I need connections. And this might be one."
Silence.
The noise of cutlery and distant laughter filled the gap.
Her throat suddenly felt dry and scratchy. She raised her hand and ordered a bottle of water. When it came, she twisted the cap and took a slow sip, buying herself a moment of composure.
She had explained everything already — in detail. About Folakemi's parents. About the interest in her paintings. About the possibility of higher-paying clients.
But it felt like her words had evaporated into thin air.
Rayyan shook her head. "Connections are good, yes. But at what cost? You know the kind of environment that will be there."
Before Rihannat could respond, Balkis — who had been unusually quiet — cleared her throat.
The soft cough was enough to draw both their attention.
"I think she can go."
Both heads turned sharply toward her.
Balkis continued calmly, "If she's truly going for business, then it's acceptable. We all know wealthy people will be there. And exposure matters in business."
She glanced at Rihannat. "Didn't you say her parents personally invited you?"
Rihannat nodded slowly.
"And you said you're returning the same day?"
"Yes."
"Then I don't see the problem."
Rihannat blinked.
Of all people, she had expected Balkis to object first.
For months now, Balkis had been the strict one. The firm one. The first to say "no" to anything that looked even slightly questionable.
Why wasn't she following the script today?
Rayyan looked just as stunned.
"You're… okay with this?" Rayyan asked carefully.
Balkis shrugged lightly. "We can't cage her. She's not a child. She knows her limits."
Then she turned again to Rihannat. "You are coming back that same day, right?"
Rihannat finally found her voice. "Of course. Why would I sleep over? I'll leave once I'm done. Even if the party is still ongoing. Let's say by 6 p.m., I'll already be on my way back."
Rayyan leaned back in her chair, watching them.
Something wasn't right.
Balkis was too calm. Too agreeable.
Rayyan instinct stirred.
Then Rayyan spoke again, but this time her tone shifted slightly.
"Have you told Basit?"
The air changed.
Balkis fingers tightened around her cup.
Rihannat froze.
Basit.
The name alone carried weight.
Rihannat cleared her throat. "Why should I tell him? It's just business."
"Just business?" Balkis repeated lightly, but her eyes lingered too long.
Rayyan noticed.
She noticed the flicker. The calculation.
Rayyan wasn't looking at Rihannat when she asked the question.
She was watching Balkis.
Testing her reaction.
And Balkis did react.
Her gaze dropped, but the brief storm in her eyes had already betrayed her.
Inside, her thoughts raced.
"What game are you playing, Balkis?" Rayyan thought.
For months now, Rayyan had suspected it. The subtle shifts. The unnecessary comments. The way Balkis' tone changed whenever Basit's name was mentioned.
Basit only had eyes for one person.
Rihannat.
It was obvious to anyone paying attention.
Except....., maybe Balkis.
Or perhaps she saw it clearly — and hated it.
Rayyan sighed inwardly.
Don't destroy this friendship over something that isn't yours, she thought. Greed. Infatuation. Envy. They ruin more than they build.
She glanced at Rihannat, who was still trying to appear composed.
Then at Balkis, whose expression remained neutral — too neutral.
"Why bring Basit into this?" Rayyan asked finally.
Balkis smiled faintly. "No reason. I just thought since he… cares, he should know where she'll be."
Cares.
The word lingered.
Rihannat shifted in her seat. "I don't report my movements to anyone."
"That's not what I meant," Balkis replied quickly.
But Rayyan wasn't convinced.
She could see it now — the subtle tension, the silent rivalry Balkis pretended didn't exist.
Ya Allah, Rayyan prayed silently, guide her heart. Don't let jealousy plant roots where sisterhood once grew.
Outwardly, she straightened.
"Look," Rayyan said firmly, turning to Rihannat. "If you're going, go with caution. Dress modestly. Keep your phone on. Share the location with us. And leave exactly when you said you would."
Rihannat nodded gratefully. "I promise."
"And if you feel uncomfortable at any point?"
"I'll leave immediately."
Balkis leaned back, folding her arms. "See? Problem solved."
But Rayyan wasn't satisfied.
Because this wasn't just about a party anymore.
It was about something shifting.
Something fragile.
Something unspoken.
As they rose from the table, Rihannat felt lighter — relieved at least one of them supported her.
But Rayyan walked beside her quietly, her heart uneasy.
And Balkis…
Balkis walked behind them, her expression unreadable.
Tomorrow wasn't just about a party.
It was about choices.
And choices have consequences.
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