The Perfect Girl

27

"Cause she's a perfect girl,                                                                                                                                                       She's a happy girl,                                                                                                                                                                 She's a foolish girl,"

Hiba's POV

That is perhaps the most blurry part in my mind of this whole story, the time in which I first started to feel positive feelings again after my father passed.

I cried a lot, even though I was starting to get better.  Mostly, though, I remember how sweet Khalid was.  Those moments remain fairly clear and bright in my mind, even as everything else fades into the past.

It's funny, I think I wanted really badly to believe that I had healed but, despite that, there was a part of me that knew it was hope and not a reality.  I didn't want to go back to my family's house because it felt empty without Abu, and I didn't want to replace the warm memory of that house with a cold one, a picture missing the centrepiece.

I laughed now, but there is a distinctive difference between laughing and smiling, and though they are similar things, one is an expression of amusement, and the other, happiness.  I could laugh, even when I was miserable, but I could not smile.

I could not smile when I felt angry or broken inside.

And the only time I smiled in this period was when I was with Khalid.  I'm not sure exactly why.

Maybe it was that it made me happy to feel like I was wanted, instead of only wanting, and he made me feel wanted.  Maybe it was that when he smiled at me it felt instinctive to smile at back, and he smiled at me a lot.  Maybe it was that he hugged me a lot, and hugs made me feel safe, and being safe made me feel like I could smile.

Whatever it was, it scared me and pleased me and angered me all at once.

I didn't like feeling vulnerable and dependant, but I liked knowing I could depend on him.  

It was a strange sort of mental battle.

"Hiba!" Khalid called.

"Yes?" I responded.

"Where are y--" he came into the living room, saw me on the couch, smiled, "There you are."

"Mhmm.  What's up?"

"Your brother called me, he said you weren't picking up."

I looked around for my phone, shifting the book I had been reading off my lap.  I picked it up, looked at the screen.

"It's dead," I said sheepishly, "Sorry."

"It's fine." he said, "You might wanna charge that sometime in the near future."

I glared at him.

He laughed at my face, "He was inviting us over for dinner."

"Oh," I think I grimaced.

He shook his head, lips drawing into a frown.  

"Why don't you ever want to see your family?"

"I do!" I protested.

"Love, you're not a good liar." he said, smirking a little.

"I don't lie," this was true, "I do want to see my family."

"Then why do you look like you just found out your cupcake is actually broccoli?"

"What kind of an expression is that?" I asked in confusion.

"You get the point," he flushed, "Why do you look upset?"

"I guess-- I just... I don't--" I hesitated, "Going back to my house and knowing Abu won't be there forces me to accept the reality, and that Abu is gone.  I don't want--"

I couldn't continue.  I just couldn't.  Being this vulnerable was just physically painful for me.

But Khalid had heard enough to understand.

"What if I invite them here?" he asked, dropping down beside me, "Would that be better, at all?"

I nodded, hating how childish and spoilt I felt.  It was as though I'd just thrown a tantrum, and now Khalid was trying to find a solution to my problem like a grown up trying to calm a toddler.

"I mean," I said, "It's fine.  I'll have to face it eventually."

"Yeah," he said, "But you get to decide when."