The next morning, Kamala woke up early and headed downstairs for breakfast. The kitchen was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly cooked paratha and steeped tea. Muneeba was moving with practiced speed at the stove, while Yusuf sat at the table, humming cheerfully as he read his newspaper.
Without even looking up, her mother barked, "Beta, finally! Sit down, hurry. Your potatoes are getting cold." She gestured toward Kamala's usual chair. "You are getting that license today, so you must eat properly."
Kamala slumped into her seat and began eating rapidly; she wanted that license more than anything. In truth, she already knew how to drive—she had taken 'special lessons' from Kate Bishop for post-apocalyptic scenarios. She was actually quite skilled at handling a vehicle, especially with a horde of zombies in the rearview mirror. I just hope I'm as talented in actual traffic, she thought.
"You can do it, Kamala!" her father, Yusuf Khan, said with a wink as he looked up from his paper. "Khans have always been naturals behind the wheel."
She smiled at him. "Maybe that doesn't apply to all of us." At her words, Aamir looked at her as if she were a stray rat.
"Don't forget to pray before you eat," he said, adding, "A driving test doesn't depend on luck; it depends on blessings."
Kamala just offered a sweet, fake smile. Pray that you're getting married soon, brother, or I'd deal with you properly, she thought.
Within five minutes, Kamala was on her feet. She was glad her appetite was low for once; she was nearly late for her test with Mr. Miller. As she rushed to leave, her father looked up.
"My sweet Kamala. The road will be long and winding, so at a stop sign, you must never come to a complete halt."
She gave her 'Abbu' a judgmental look. "Abbu, did you just use poetic metaphors to advise me to break the law?"
Her father laughed it off. "You know, you don't really need to check the mirrors that often."
Muneeba walked past them right then. "She needs to check them."
Kamala grinned at her mother. "I think I'll have to side with Ammi on this one."
"Oh, and say Bismillah before you start the car," Aamir called out as an afterthought. "You're definitely going to need the help."
She reminded him that he didn't even have a license yet and bolted out the door.
●
At the parking lot, she met Mr. Miller. After a quick greeting and getting the green light to start, Kamala whispered "Bismillah" and turned the ignition.
"Bless you," Mr. Miller said, looking at her oddly. A small, frustrated laugh escaped Kamala's lips (though she was sure he hadn't noticed).
She passed the obstacle course in the lot—barely. In her old life, rules didn't matter; you didn't get a ticket for reckless driving when the world was ending.
"That was... challenging," Kamala admitted.
"You made it. Now, head out through there," Miller said, pointing toward the exit.
The rest of the test went smoothly, despite some minor stress-induced mistakes. By the time they reached a street near her home in Jersey City, it was 11:12 AM. Mr. Miller scribbled something in his notebook, then looked up.
"Ms. Khan, congratulations. You passed."
"YES!"
Startled by her outburst, Miller quickly exited the car. Kamala stared at her temporary permit with a massive grin. As she drove back to return the car to her father, she called her mother.
"I won!" she shouted as soon as Muneeba picked up.
After the cheers subsided on the other end, Kamala continued, "I'm stopping by the house first. Is Abbu home?"
"He is, but don't you dare try to skip school just because you passed," Muneeba warned.
Kamala laughed, assuring her she wasn't ready to brave the school parking lot just yet. Her mother's tone softened, clearly pleased by her daughter's uncharacteristic thoughtfulness.
●
Kamala arrived at school just in time for lunch. She found Nakia and Bruno at their usual spot in the canteen.
"I passed!" she announced, waving the permit.
Bruno took the document to inspect it while Nakia hugged her. But then, Bruno looked at Nakia with a smug grin. "Ten dollars."
Kamala blinked. "Why?"
"Nakia owes me ten dollars because I won the bet," Bruno gloated.
"And what was this bet about?" Kamala asked suspiciously.
Nakia handed over the bill with a sigh. "We bet on you. I thought you'd get too stressed and fail."
Kamala gave her a look of "utter betrayal," then dramatically hugged Bruno. "You're my only true friend!"
Nakia quickly changed the subject. "What about the Avengers party?"
"Avengers party?" Kamala asked, confused.
"She means AvengerCon," Bruno clarified. "The costume is ready, we just need a few accessories. We made a perfect Captain America uniform, but it needs a little... 'Kamala' flair."
Kamala froze. This was before me... where is that girl? She directed the question to Knull, but received no answer. Shaking off the anxiety, she turned to Bruno. "What kind of accessories do we need?"
"The competition wants a personal touch. We have the shield, but maybe... something from Pakistan?"
"Great idea, Bruno," Kamala agreed.
Nakia watched them with a critical eye. "I still can't believe you guys learned to sew and paint just for this."
"Hey, it's good to be versatile, Nakia," Kamala shot back.
●
As they left the canteen, they passed Zoe on the stairs. Kamala accidentally bumped into her, causing Zoe's books to hit the floor.
"Seriously?" Zoe snapped, looking arrogant and annoyed.
Kamala quickly retrieved the book. "Sorry, Zoe."
The apology softened Zoe slightly. "It's fine."
"Nice jacket," Kamala noted, looking at Zoe's leopard print. Zoe had great style; Kamala used to envy her ability to wear whatever she wanted, even if their tastes were different.
"Thanks... I like your necklace too," Zoe replied, though she looked like she was struggling to find something to compliment on Kamala.
As they walked away, Knull's voice hissed in her mind. "Didn't that girl make you cry the other day?"
I told you, that wasn't the only reason, Kamala thought back.
Suddenly, the school's PA system crackled to life. "Kamala Khan, please come to my office immediately."
It was Mr. Wilson. "You did something very bad... Just kidding! I've always wanted to do that. I just want to talk. By the way, I'm Mr. Wilson."
"Thanks, Mr. Wilson," Kamala muttered to the empty air.
●
The counselor's office was cozy. Kamala immediately spotted the tiny Avengers figures on his desk. In this world, heroes were still figures of respect and awe.
"—mala, Kamala!"
She snapped out of her trance. "Yes, Mr. Wilson?"
"Kamala, the reason I wanted to talk is exactly that. This thing you do..."
"Like... lack of focus?" she interrupted.
"Yes! Exactly!" he exclaimed, before turning serious. "I understand the last few weeks have been rough. Your teachers say you spend all day doodling."
"I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
"No, don't interrupt!" He took a sip from his 'cat' mug. "By the way, Mr. Wilson was my father. My name is Gabe... though his name was Gabe too. Anyway. You're a sophomore. It's time to think about the future. SATs, college apps, personal statements... it all happens fast. Are you doing any volunteer work, Kamala?"
Seeing the look of dread on her face, he added, "Oh no... Kamala, I'm not trying to scare you."
"No, I know you're trying to help. I appreciate it."
"Then I have an assignment for you. Go home, look in the mirror, and ask yourself: 'Kamala, who is this girl looking back at me?'"
"Is that a quote from Mulan?"
"Yes, it is," Gabe said without breaking character. "The girl I see is split in two. One soul here, one soul somewhere else... Where is she? Who knows? No one. Look, dreaming is fun, but you need to come back to the real world. Join us."
...