The Perfect Girl

30

"She went from hanging on for dear life,                                                                                                                       To beginning to see some light,"

It began gradually.

The change was in fact so infinitesimal that I hardly realized it was there.

I awoke one morning, washed my face as usual, and found myself admiring the dimple in my cheek when I smiled.  A few mornings later, I looked in the mirror and discovered that I really liked my eyes.  I liked the simple brown, how deep and dark they were, I liked them.  Then, nearly a week later, I inspected myself under the lights in my bathroom and was pleased by the way the light bounced off my cheekbones and nose, even if that nose was still too big and the cheeks too chubby.

And then I did something strange.

I decided to cut my hair.  More specifically, I decided to cut myself bangs. (A/N TRUE STORY!!!!!!)

So I did it.

I watched a few videos on how exactly to do it, then grabbed a pair of scissors too blunt for proper cutting and chopped the whole front part of my hair.  

I stared at my reflection when I was done, breathing a sharp breath.  

I thought it would be worse than it was.

If anything, the look was a surprisingly nice one.

My bangs were pretty straight-- thankfully-- and the way they fell over my forehead somehow outlines the features of my face more boldly. It made my cheekbones look more prominent and my eyes bigger and my lips brighter.   My hair was being fairly cooperative too, and the straightness of it was a nice frame to my face.

I called my mother first, biting at my lip in nervousness.

"As salaamu alaikum?" she said through the phone.

"Wa alaikum us salaam.  Mama, I cut my hair."

"What?" she asked in surprise, "Aap pagal hu?" (Are you crazy?)

"Maybe a little," I muttered, "I'm sending you a picture, Ami."

I took a quick picture, making sure to pose just right.

"Oh my Lord," she breathed into the phone.

"Does it look that bad?" I asked.

"No, not at all.  Hiba, something about it makes you look so... so pretty." she said.

"Really?"

"Yes!  It looks good Hiba."

"Good," I sighed in relief, "I can't believe I did this."

"Neither can I.  What happened to my one sane child?"

"You said it looks nice!"

"Still, cutting your hair just like that?  Sounds like something Amar would do."

I laughed at the comment.  It was a reference to the famous story of Amar cutting a big chunk of his hair off when he was about five years old.  Ami had walked into the washroom to find hair, a pair of scissors, and her son missing some of his hair.  When she'd asked him if he'd cut his hair, however, he denied it, denied it with such conviction it was remarkable.

It annoyed Amar to be reminded of his past stupidity, which made it my obligation to remind him of it as much as I could.

I heard a voice in the background of the phone, "WOAH, HIBA, WHAT THE HELL?"

There was shuffling, then Shuayb's voice, "You cut your hair?!"

"I did."

"Gadee," he muttered, his favourite insult.  (female donkey)

"Ami thinks it looks good," I said in a childish voice.

"It looks okay," he said, "I wouldn't encourage you to do it again, but it looks okay."

"So incredible?"

"Okay."

"Fantastic?"

He huffed out a breath, "Wait till Amar sees this."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"Have you told Khalid yet?"

"No," I said, "I'm going to call him now.  As salaamu alaikum."

"Wa alaikum us salaam."

I video called Khalid.

He picked up almost immediately.

"As salaamu alaikum!"

"Wa alaikum us salaam," I replied, keeping the camera turned away from me, "You won't believe what I did."

"Uh oh," he teased, "What did you do?"

I turned the camera to my face.  His jaw dropped.  I watched in satisfaction as he gaped, blinking quickly.

"Do you like it?" I asked, suddenly stressed, "Or do you hate it?"

"It's-- you--" he stuttered, "You look gorgeous.  Oh my God--"

He stopped talking, just stared at me.  

Then, "Why'd you do it?"

I shrugged, "I felt like it."

"It looks good."

"I'm glad," I said.

"I'm coming back home," he groaned.

"Why?"

"Well, I need to make sure you don't change too much, but also, I need to see this in person.  It looks incredible on you."

"Thanks." I said.

There was a call behind him, and he looked at me sadly.

"I have to go."

"It's okay," I smiled.

"See you," he said, surprising me with a kiss against the camera.

I blew him an air kiss in return, "See you.  As salaamu alaikum."

"Wa alaikum us salaam."