My Heartless Heartbreaker

Prologue

Coconut.

Palm trees.

Cool breeze.

They are what I think about the first time I saw him.

He is the cool water that refreshes your parched throat on a hot sunny day. He is the blunt you smoke on a cold, windy day.

Oh, he is also the sun, the moon, and the stars.

I look away when he gets close. The tip of my nose itches. Wild trees. Moist earth. He looks like the beach and smells like the forest.

"Inaya! Come play!"

I am dragged away to the playground, but all I want is to stand under the tree like the grown-ups are doing. Because despite what my mother says, I believe that I am a grown-up. I read big books with big complex words. I also know how to make a sandwich from scratch. The other day I helped my mom clear out the weeds in the backyard. So you see, I am a grown-up.

I wonder if he thinks the same. The boy who smells like the forest. I wonder what he thought when he looked at me in my pink girly dress and wild hair with ribbons. He probably thinks I am a little girl. But I am not. I am not.

"Ugh, Inaya, pass me the ball," Salem says.

I pass her the ball, but I don't join to play. I did not want to get my cute sunny dress wrinkled or dirty. Dirty like Salem's white dress, which now looks brown instead of white. Salem didn't care if she looked dirty. She also didn't care if anyone saw her like that. I wonder how we're best friends because we were complete opposites.

I was neat and meticulous. In contrast, she was rough and careless. Two very contradicting traits but by some miracle, we were best friends.

"Why do you keep staring at the boy's soccer field."

My eyes widen. I think of a lie, but my mind comes up short.

"Uh. I-I..."

"Why are you stuttering?" Salem smirks. "Are you staring at Sam?"

I slap a hand on her mouth. "N-no."

She pushes my hand away and yells, "Yes! Yes, you were. You stutter when you lie."

Crap. I've been caught. I swallow and nod. There was no use denying it, she would have found out anyway. Salem was curious and stubborn. Another set of traits we differ in.

"Sam is ugly. He has braces and ugly chunky glasses. Why would you stare at him ?" She wrinkles her nose and huffs.

"I guess because I like his shoes?"

We turn to look at his shoes. They were muddy soccer cleats. There was nothing to like about them.

"Strange. You're strange Inaya." Salem goes back to playing with the bouncy ball.

The minute her attention turns away. I move my gaze away from Sam. I move my gaze away and look at him instead.

I lied. I wasn't staring at Sam. Because Salem was right, Sam didn't call to attention. He didn't make your eyes widen. He didn't make your heart race. He was the same age as me, therefore, he was not my cup of tea. None of the kids in my grade were my cup of tea. I've stolen that phrase from Grandma. Cup of tea.

But he was.

The boy who smelled like the forest and looked like the beach. He was my cup of tea because he made my heart race. His sandy brown eyes made my stomach ripple. His dimples made my fingers itch.

Jibril.

The boy with piercing brown eyes and a sunny smile.

I wish I could tell Salem about him. But she would call me strange for liking a boy who was 11. A boy who was older and also a grade above us. She would laugh and say, "You're so very strange, Inaya. What is there to like about him?"

But there was plenty to like about him.

As the months pass, I discover them all.

I discovered all there is to like about Jibril. As the years passed, I also discovered all there is to dislike.

One of them is that he is a huge jerk. A reckless heartbreaker.

But my heart doesn't mind it. My traitorous heart squeezes harder the more he breaks it. Oh, and believe me, he does it countless times. I let him do it anyway. I let him because he is the water that refreshes my parched throat. He is the delicious blunt I smoke on a cold chilly day.

He is my heartless heartbreaker.