The Perfect Girl

12

"He starts to consider, Lights getting dimmer,"

I don't think I slept that night, but if I did it was probably the sort of sleep in which you are half aware that you are sleeping, half awake.

Anyway, I woke up with a headache and blurry eyes, which made me irritated.

The day was a weird one. This might have had to do with the looks Jana kept giving me, or the way she brought up Hiba at every opportunity, or maybe it was me, but it was strange.

I'd started considering how much I knew about Hiba.

I thought I didn't know much, since we hadn't talked since we were kids, when we played together all the time, but it turns out that I'd picked up on a lot, especially little things.

Our families were incredibly close, I was starting to realize. I'd spent all most as much time at their house as I had in school when I was younger, and even though the age gap caused a sort of friction, Shuayb and Amar might as well have been my own brothers. Uncle Irfan, Hiba's father, was like my own father, and, now that I was thinking about it, we were all fairly casual with each other, so Hiba wasn't super polite in front of me, or stiff, like she was in front of some of our other mutual friends.

I knew she hated it when people talked with their mouths full, because every time Shuyab or Amar did she'd glare at them and mutter, "chew with your mouth closed." They always teased her and chewed louder, but then stopped when she gave them a sharp look. She sat on counters a lot, too. I couldn't count the amount of times I had walked in to find her perched on the kitchen counter and hear Amar ask if it looked like a chair to her. She was smart, because she'd gotten into a good university in a good program, and she was doing well, or so I'd heard. She played basketball in high school, and she was fantastic at it, or so I'd heard from her mother's comments and Jana's constant praising of her "too perfect" everything.

I knew I should be glad that she had a good reputation, but instead it made me feel inferior. I wasn't an insecure person, not at all, but still, it was intimidating to be considering someone who was known as the definition of everything a parent could want in a child. I mean, the worst thing she had ever done in my mother's eyes was refusing to eat salmon.

Then, after the whole process of, well, processing, the matter of putting myself out there. What if I said I wanted to get to know her and she said no? Or worse, what if we got to know each other and then, knowing me, she decided I wasn't worth it?

"Jana?" I said, turning towards her.

She was sitting on the sofa in our living room, on her phone.

She looked up, "Yeah?"

"What do you think of Hiba, like for me?"

She grinned, "She's great, Khalid."

"I get that. But for me?"

"Ami asked me about her, you know, before she asked you."

"And you said you thought it was a good idea?" I asked, half angry and half thankful."

"Yes," Jana nodded, "Hiba's... she's Hiba. If you guys don't work out, I'll be honest with you, it's your loss."

"Gee, thanks for all that support, sister dearest," I deadpanned.

"You're welcome," she laughed, "But seriously. It wouldn't her, it'd be you."

"You're still not answering my question."

"Hiba's like, the kindest, most caring person I've ever met, Khalid. I want her to be happy and--" she looked at me, smiled, "I think you can give her what she deserves. There's a reason you guys always got along so well when we were younger. She's gentle, but she also doesn't take any crap, and honestly, I'd define you by the same sentence."

"Why does that mean we would work?"

"Because there are enough similarities between you to create unity and enough differences to make it interesting."

And so, I said yes.