Adi Alsaid - Brief Chronicle of Another Stupid Heartbreak

Has heartbreak broken her for good?

Dumped by her boyfriend the summer after senior year, teen love and relationship columnist Lu Charles has hit a wall with her writing. The words just wont come to her like they used to and if she doesnt find a topic for her column, shell lose her gig at hip online magazine Misnomer, and the college scholarship that goes along with it.

Her best friend, Pete, thinks she should write through her own pain, but when Lu overhears another couple planning a precollege breakup just like hers, she becomes convinced that theyre the answer to cracking her writers block. And when she meets themsuper-practical Iris and cute, sweet Caland discovers theyre postponing their breakup until the end of the summer, she has to know more.

Have Cal and Iris prolonged their own misery by staying together, knowing the end is in sight? Or does the secret to figuring out all this love businessand getting over itlie with them? One thing is certainif Lu cant make a breakthrough before summer is over, she can kiss her future goodbye.

From the acclaimed author of Lets Get Lost and North of Happy comes a touching exploration of love, relationships and the pain of breaking up.

Praise for North of Happy

A YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults nominee
A Bank Street Best Childrens Book
A Tayshas Reading List Book

An exceptional tale of grief, ambition, love, and maturity.

Kirkus Reviews , starred review

Alsaid strongly evokes the frenzied atmosphere of a restaurant kitchen and the equally turbulent emotions of a young man struggling to sort his priorities.

Publishers Weekly

Praise for Never Always Sometimes

A Kirkus Reviews Best Book

Alsaid cracks the teen-lit trope of friends becoming lovers wide open, exposing a beautiful truth inside.... A good romance is hard to come by. This is a great one.

Kirkus Reviews, starred review

A refreshing novel about friendship and romance that defies cliche.

Adam Silvera, New York Times bestselling author of They Both Die at the End

Praise for Lets Get Lost

A YALSA Teens Top 10 nominee
A YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults nominee

An achingly beautiful story... Reminiscent of John Greens Paper Towns .

School Library Journal

Lost balances both the quirky fun and the harsh realities of adolescence.

Entertainment Weekly

Also by Adi Alsaid

Lets Get Lost

Never Always Sometimes

North of Happy

BRIEF
CHRONICLE
OF ANOTHER
STUPID
HEARTBREAK

ADI ALSAID

Adi Alsaid was born and raised in Mexico City, where he spilled hot sauce on things. Hes the author of the critically acclaimed Lets Get Lost , Never Always Sometimes, and North of Happy.

Visit Adi online at www.adialsaid.com or on Twitter, @adialsaid.

For my teen readers who are wading through the murky swamp

Contents

I would have called bullshit on the whole thing from the beginning if I didnt see both Iris and Cal get the same look in their eyes. Constantly. When Iris hums to herself as they walk hand in hand, when Cal insists on doing the dishes at her parents house, when she underlines whole paragraphs in novels then simply has to voice her appreciation for what shes just read, and how hell stop whatever hes doing to listen, even if he clearly has no idea what shes talking about.

One eighteen-year-old gets that look, you start feeling sorry for them. Two of them give that look to each other and no matter what kind of cynic you are, you start thinking only teenagers really understand love. How insane its supposed to be.

Leo was running late again.

My stupid, beautiful ex-boyfriendwhod spent the entirety of our relationship arriving on timehad not even texted to give me a heads-up. I was waiting for him at Madison Square Park, and even out of the sun it was uncomfortably hot and made worse by the smell of garbage. Every person that entered my periphery was potentially Leo, so my heart quickened with excitement and then fell into disappointment as soon as I realized it wasnt him. He wasnt hurrying to come. He was happy hed left me. He wasnt going to give me a chance to talk him back into our love.

I heard the snap of a soda can opening and turned to see my new bench mate.

Skinny white boy, thick-framed hipster glasses, cute enough to make me forget about Leo and the long stretch of summer ahead without him. He took a sip from his Coke and then looked at me. Right away, I knew he wouldnt be just one more face in the nameless masses you see every day in a big city. He had a face that I knew would stay with me, that would pop into my mind months later and for no apparent reason other than the persistent question of what might have been. He smiled at me, and I forgot about what time it was and the fact that Leo was probably blowing me off for the second time this week.

Okay, maybe I didnt entirely forget. It was in the back of my mind, like it had been for the three weeks since summer had started and Leo had thrown away what we had. You cant have love in your life for nearly a year, tangled up in a single person, then transition into its absence without feeling the loss. An attractive face helps, but cures nothing.

A French couple stopped in front of our bench, looking over a map of Manhattan. They were speaking loudly and gesturing wildly, their words a blur of vowels and those throat-tickling soft French rs. I looked to my right again and my eyes met his. He raised his eyebrows and smiled at me, gesturing at the couple, whose argument was getting more heated. I tried to smile back, but couldnt guarantee that what I did qualified. It was an awkward facial muscle contortion at best.

Do you understand what theyre saying? he asked, in a stage whisper.

What? I said, because conversations with strangers are hard.

He gestured at the French couple. Do you understand any of that?

No, sorry.

I wonder what theyre arguing about. He looked at them wistfully, and I wished I could get a glimpse inside his head.

I imagine theyre lost, I said, eyes more on him than on the couple.

Where do you think theyre going? All the tourist spots are on that map. The citys a grid, and its pretty easy to get around.

Maybe theyre arguing about which way the map should be held. I hear in France they hold their maps diagonally. The boy laughed; a laugh like rising bread, warm and doughy. I dont know what that means. Sorry, I said, assuming hed laughed out of politeness. Maybe theyre looking for something super specific thats not on the map.

Dont apologize. That was funny, he said calmly, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his knees, looking at me intently. He took another baby sip from his Coke. Im irrationally intrigued by them. What could they possibly be looking for?

I dont know. Treasure? The spot where John Lennon once picked his nose in a photograph? Tourists are weird.

The boy laughed, then leaned back into the bench. He turned and took in the sights of the park, which gave me a little time to admire his face for a bit. Take that, Leo, I thought. Im staring at a cute boy and I dont feel guilty about it.

I scanned the morning crowd at the park, still hoping to catch sight of Leo despite my previous thought. The sun shone through the leaves, casting dancing shadows at Bench Boys feet. As usual, I kept my ear out for some eavesdropping opportunities, which Id been trying to use as writing inspiration. Nothing else had worked since Leo left me. I could only hear the French couple trying to make sense of their map.