"A zad! Wake up!"
I ignored my father’s voice and rolled over, drifting back into the warmth of doughy-sweet sleep. Ah. A little more rest would be so delightful.
"Get up!" my father, Omar, yelled again from the living room.
Oh. School! Was I already late? I sat up with a start, sweaty in the tangled sheets. Glancing at the clock—it was barely 6:00 a.m.—I jumped out of bed and grabbed my shirt.
Yesterday my best friend, Hiwa, and I had been two seconds late for homeroom. Two seconds! Okay, maybe thirty seconds. And Mr. Azizi, our Persian teacher,