Download high-resolution image Look inside
Listen to a clip from the audiobook
audio pause button
0:00
0:00

Perfectly Parvin

Look inside
Listen to a clip from the audiobook
audio pause button
0:00
0:00
Fourteen-year-old Iranian-American Parvin Mohammadi sets out to win the ultimate date to homecoming in this heartfelt and outright hilarious debut.

Parvin Mohammadi has just been dumped--only days after receiving official girlfriend status. Not only is she heartbroken, she's humiliated. Enter high school heartthrob Matty Fumero, who just might be the smoking-hot cure to all her boy problems. If Parvin can get Matty to ask her to Homecoming, she's positive it will prove to herself and her ex that she's girlfriend material after all. There's just one problem: Matty is definitely too cool for bassoon-playing, frizzy-haired, Cheeto-eating Parvin. Since being herself hasn't worked for her in the past (see aforementioned dumping), she decides to start acting like the women in her favorite rom-coms. Those women aren't loud, they certainly don't cackle when they laugh, and they smile much more than they talk.

But Parvin discovers that being a rom-com dream girl is much harder than it looks. Also hard? The parent-mandated Farsi lessons. A confusing friendship with a boy who's definitely not supposed to like her. And hardest of all, the ramifications of the Muslim ban on her family in Iran. Suddenly, being herself has never been more important.

Olivia Abtahi's debut is as hilarious as it is heartfelt--a delightful tale where, amid the turmoil of high school friendships and crushes, being yourself is always the perfect way to be.

“All right, everyone, we’re going to go ahead and break out into tour groups. Outside the auditorium are student ambassadors in blue and red shirts—please line up next to one. No more than ten people per group, please!” Principal Saulk shouted before shimmying offstage.

“Finally,” I groaned.

Ruth whined, clutching her binder. “I didn’t get to ask any of my questions!”

“Come on, Parvin,” Fabián said, holding out a hand adorned with rings in the shape of snakes and skulls.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Wesley. His sandy-colored hair had been chopped off in favor of a buzz cut, but he still looked cute, despite his white polo and khakis. That was strange, since he usually wore a T-shirt and jeans. But at least I could finally introduce him to my friends.

“Wesley!” I waved. “Hey!”

Wesley turned around, and I almost swooned then and there. His braces were off (gasp!), and he looked like a completely new person. He gave me a small wave from where he was sitting next to some students I’d never seen before, and I dragged Ruth and Fabián over.

“Hey, Parvin,” he stuttered, getting up quickly. He herded me away from the people he’d been hanging with, clearly wanting to have me all to himself.

Gosh, it had only been a couple days since we’d last seen each other, but I’d missed the shy, nervous way Wesley talked. I couldn’t stop staring at his braces-free teeth. Just smelling his brand of soap again made my lips tingle from that night at the beach.

“Wesley, these are my friends,” I exclaimed proudly. Hah! Now I had proof that Wesley wasn’t made up! “Meet the Fabián Castor,” I began.

“Charmed,” Fabián purred, sticking his hand out, palm down, like he was a duke or something. Fabián had high standards for boys, and he didn’t hold his hand out to be kissed by just anyone. I could tell he thought Wesley was handsome, too.

Instead of taking Fabián’s hand, though, Wesley just stared at the black nail polish and rings Fabián wore. I watched as his eyes tracked up Fabián’s frame, noting the motorcycle boots, the frayed black jeans, and the smoky eyeliner. I thought Fabián looked amazing today, but from the way Wesley cringed, maybe I’d been wrong.

“Hi,” Wesley squeaked, keeping his hands in his pockets.

“And I’m Ruth Song.” She gave a quick wave, trying to gloss over that awkward moment, but Wesley took a step back. Ruth dropped her hand, self-conscious.

What was going on? Why was Wesley acting so weird?

“Wes? Are you feeling okay?”

“These are your friends?” he asked. Then he glanced back to the group he’d been sitting with. They all wore the same kind of Polite Youths outfit Wesley had on and were just as pale as his white polo. I followed his gaze and was met with a wall of frosty looks.

“Do you know her?” one of them called, gesturing to me. He wore a button-down shirt and something my dad called “slacks.” He looked like he was preparing to run for senate—or at least student-body president—both of which could be possible here in Northern Virginia. His name tag said HUDSON.

“A little bit,” Wesley replied. A little bit? Hello! You just asked me to be your girlfriend! For some reason this Hudson guy thought Wesley’s response was hilarious, because he started laughing coldly at me as he walked over.

“What kind of name is Parvin, anyway?” Hudson read my name tag, pronouncing it Par-vin, and not PAR-veen, like Ruth and Fabián did. What was going on? Why wasn’t Wesley sticking up for me? I felt my friends bristle beside me, ready to step in.

Too late. “Don’t you have some used cars to sell?” Fabián sneered, gesturing to Hudson’s outfit.

“Yeah!” Ruth added, a bit unhelpfully.

But in that moment, I could have kissed them both. Fabián and Ruth were my ride-or-die BFFs. They weren’t going to let just anyone make fun of me. After all, making fun of me was their job.

Wesley stared uneasily at the floor. Why was he friends with this jerk? And why wasn’t he saying anything? I was starting to get annoyed now.

“Let’s go over here,” he said finally, leading me alone to an empty hallway away from Hudson and his crew. Gone was the happy twinkle in Wesley’s eye from whenever he saw me. Now he looked as nervous about high school as I felt, and he kept running his tongue over his braces-free teeth.

“How do you know those guys?” I asked. And why won’t you look at me? It felt like the second I’d introduced my friends, Wesley had clammed up. Was he intimidated by how awesome they were? Being BFFs with an influencer could be nerve-racking, sure, but Fabián had been on his best behavior just now.

“They go to my church, actually. I didn’t know they’d be here until yesterday.”

I nodded. I was glad he was starting school with some friends, even if they seemed dumb.

He still wouldn’t meet my eye.

“Wes?” I took a step closer, reaching for his hand. But he shoved them both into his pockets.

Fabián and Ruth gave me a sympathetic look from where they waited over by Wesley’s church friends. They were probably wondering where the hysterical boyfriend I’d bragged so much about had gone. I’d told them how funny Wesley was, but he was completely different from the boy in front of me.

For someone who had asked me to be his girlfriend a couple days ago, Wesley sure wasn’t acting like my boyfriend.

“Listen, Parvin,” Wesley started, finally making eye contact. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and I think it’s better if we just stay friends. You’re just . . . a little . . .”

My heart stopped. I held my breath, waiting for Wesley to explain the punch line. This had to be a joke, right? Who dumped someone two days after asking them to be their girlfriend?

“Loud,” he said finally. He gestured to all of me, as if I could read his mind and understand what that meant.

I gasped. Loud? Moi? This had to be another one of Wesley’s jokes, like the time we covered the lifeguard chair in body glitter.

“Shiver me timbers, Wes,” I snorted, remembering how much he liked my pirate-speak earlier this week. “Good one, Captain!”

But Wesley just shook his head. “It was fine at the beach and all. But things are different now. You’re just really . . . um . . .”

He looked at the ceiling tiles, as if he’d find the right word up there. “Too much.”

This couldn’t be happening. This had to be a prank.

“What does that even mean?” I chuckled, but it was a strained, shaky sound.

He remained silent. I reached for his hand again, but he kept it in his pocket. “We’re still on for hanging out after orientation, right?” I pressed. I had already scoped out the school’s parking lot, and if I moved each assigned parking space over by one, Principal Saulk wouldn’t have a spot to slide his Prius into tomorrow. It was the perfect trick, and I needed Wesley’s help since Fabián and Ruth refused to help with my little schemes anymore.

“Ummm,” he said uncomfortably.

The laugh I’d been holding back for when he yelled “Just kidding!” died in my throat. Was this really happening? Wesley had never mentioned before that I was “too loud” or “too much” all summer. He had seemed happy enough listening to me explain why mint chocolate chip was the best ice cream flavor, or why I still wore bronzer even though my skin was already pretty bronze.

Wesley just shook his head. “Sorry, Parvin. I don’t think you should be my girlfriend anymore.”

He walked away, back to his church friends.

And then I died.

Five Seconds Later

Oh, look, a comfortable patch of linoleum.

I think I will lie down for a bit.

Hallway

10 minutes later

Fabián had emptied a bag of Hot Cheetos, and Ruth was using it to resuscitate me.

Praise for Perfectly Parvin:
A 2023 Sequoyah Book Award Nominee (OK)
A 2023 Texas Lone Star Reading List Pick
A 2022 Golden Kite Honor Award Winner

A 2022–2023 Georgia Peach Book Award Nominee
A 2022 YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults Pick

A 2022 ALA Rise: A Feminist Book Project List Pick

A 2021 New York Public Library Best Book Pick
A 2021 Chicago Public Library Best Book Pick
A 2021 BuzzFeed Best Young Adult Pick

A Book Riot Must Read YA Romance Pick


“Abtahi writes a touching contemporary that's hilariously heartfelt about one girl's journey to self-discovery.” —BuzzFeed

★ “Abtahi deftly navigates Parvin's transitional life phase, equipping her with enough humor and moxie to see her through even the toughest challenges . . . A joyful celebration of the right to take up space in the world.” —Booklist, starred review

★ “Abtahi’s charming debut will have readers cheering for Parvin. . . an incredibly charming, funny, and lovable protagonist who greets life with unbridled enthusiasm . . . as she navigates her two cultures with vim. . . A truly delightful story about a charming and engaging teen navigating freshman year.” —School Library Journal, starred review

“Parvin’s narratorial voice sparkles with wit and pathos, and her journey toward self-acceptance seamlessly incorporates political and emotional realities. . . A diverse, fast-paced, feminist romance.” —Kirkus Reviews

“The fast-paced writing, wonderfully diverse cast, and very realistic and age-appropriate thoughts, choices, and realizations make this a solid read. Smart, funny, and full of heart.” —Teen Librarian Toolbox

Authentic and organically hilarious. . . A fresh, charming standout.”—YALSA
 
“At its heart, this breezy YA title is about trying to find love by pretending to be someone else when being yourself is all that matters.” —Brightly

“The ebullient, eponymous heroine of Olivia Abtahi’s novel Perfectly Parvin—a prankster with a rambunctious wit . . . determines to remake herself as a demure, seen-but-not-heard young lady. The effort is doomed—if often hilarious—and has her trying but failing to tamp herself down through a friend’s quinceañera party and Farsi classes, through online makeup consults with her Iranian aunt and a tragic band audition.” —The Globe and Mail
© Heritage and Bloom
Olivia Abtahi is a writer and filmmaker born in Washington, DC. When she isn't drafting novels about awkward teens, you can find her working on documentaries about social justice and climate equity. She currently lives in Denver, Colorado, with her husband and their daughter. View titles by Olivia Abtahi

About

Fourteen-year-old Iranian-American Parvin Mohammadi sets out to win the ultimate date to homecoming in this heartfelt and outright hilarious debut.

Parvin Mohammadi has just been dumped--only days after receiving official girlfriend status. Not only is she heartbroken, she's humiliated. Enter high school heartthrob Matty Fumero, who just might be the smoking-hot cure to all her boy problems. If Parvin can get Matty to ask her to Homecoming, she's positive it will prove to herself and her ex that she's girlfriend material after all. There's just one problem: Matty is definitely too cool for bassoon-playing, frizzy-haired, Cheeto-eating Parvin. Since being herself hasn't worked for her in the past (see aforementioned dumping), she decides to start acting like the women in her favorite rom-coms. Those women aren't loud, they certainly don't cackle when they laugh, and they smile much more than they talk.

But Parvin discovers that being a rom-com dream girl is much harder than it looks. Also hard? The parent-mandated Farsi lessons. A confusing friendship with a boy who's definitely not supposed to like her. And hardest of all, the ramifications of the Muslim ban on her family in Iran. Suddenly, being herself has never been more important.

Olivia Abtahi's debut is as hilarious as it is heartfelt--a delightful tale where, amid the turmoil of high school friendships and crushes, being yourself is always the perfect way to be.

Excerpt

“All right, everyone, we’re going to go ahead and break out into tour groups. Outside the auditorium are student ambassadors in blue and red shirts—please line up next to one. No more than ten people per group, please!” Principal Saulk shouted before shimmying offstage.

“Finally,” I groaned.

Ruth whined, clutching her binder. “I didn’t get to ask any of my questions!”

“Come on, Parvin,” Fabián said, holding out a hand adorned with rings in the shape of snakes and skulls.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Wesley. His sandy-colored hair had been chopped off in favor of a buzz cut, but he still looked cute, despite his white polo and khakis. That was strange, since he usually wore a T-shirt and jeans. But at least I could finally introduce him to my friends.

“Wesley!” I waved. “Hey!”

Wesley turned around, and I almost swooned then and there. His braces were off (gasp!), and he looked like a completely new person. He gave me a small wave from where he was sitting next to some students I’d never seen before, and I dragged Ruth and Fabián over.

“Hey, Parvin,” he stuttered, getting up quickly. He herded me away from the people he’d been hanging with, clearly wanting to have me all to himself.

Gosh, it had only been a couple days since we’d last seen each other, but I’d missed the shy, nervous way Wesley talked. I couldn’t stop staring at his braces-free teeth. Just smelling his brand of soap again made my lips tingle from that night at the beach.

“Wesley, these are my friends,” I exclaimed proudly. Hah! Now I had proof that Wesley wasn’t made up! “Meet the Fabián Castor,” I began.

“Charmed,” Fabián purred, sticking his hand out, palm down, like he was a duke or something. Fabián had high standards for boys, and he didn’t hold his hand out to be kissed by just anyone. I could tell he thought Wesley was handsome, too.

Instead of taking Fabián’s hand, though, Wesley just stared at the black nail polish and rings Fabián wore. I watched as his eyes tracked up Fabián’s frame, noting the motorcycle boots, the frayed black jeans, and the smoky eyeliner. I thought Fabián looked amazing today, but from the way Wesley cringed, maybe I’d been wrong.

“Hi,” Wesley squeaked, keeping his hands in his pockets.

“And I’m Ruth Song.” She gave a quick wave, trying to gloss over that awkward moment, but Wesley took a step back. Ruth dropped her hand, self-conscious.

What was going on? Why was Wesley acting so weird?

“Wes? Are you feeling okay?”

“These are your friends?” he asked. Then he glanced back to the group he’d been sitting with. They all wore the same kind of Polite Youths outfit Wesley had on and were just as pale as his white polo. I followed his gaze and was met with a wall of frosty looks.

“Do you know her?” one of them called, gesturing to me. He wore a button-down shirt and something my dad called “slacks.” He looked like he was preparing to run for senate—or at least student-body president—both of which could be possible here in Northern Virginia. His name tag said HUDSON.

“A little bit,” Wesley replied. A little bit? Hello! You just asked me to be your girlfriend! For some reason this Hudson guy thought Wesley’s response was hilarious, because he started laughing coldly at me as he walked over.

“What kind of name is Parvin, anyway?” Hudson read my name tag, pronouncing it Par-vin, and not PAR-veen, like Ruth and Fabián did. What was going on? Why wasn’t Wesley sticking up for me? I felt my friends bristle beside me, ready to step in.

Too late. “Don’t you have some used cars to sell?” Fabián sneered, gesturing to Hudson’s outfit.

“Yeah!” Ruth added, a bit unhelpfully.

But in that moment, I could have kissed them both. Fabián and Ruth were my ride-or-die BFFs. They weren’t going to let just anyone make fun of me. After all, making fun of me was their job.

Wesley stared uneasily at the floor. Why was he friends with this jerk? And why wasn’t he saying anything? I was starting to get annoyed now.

“Let’s go over here,” he said finally, leading me alone to an empty hallway away from Hudson and his crew. Gone was the happy twinkle in Wesley’s eye from whenever he saw me. Now he looked as nervous about high school as I felt, and he kept running his tongue over his braces-free teeth.

“How do you know those guys?” I asked. And why won’t you look at me? It felt like the second I’d introduced my friends, Wesley had clammed up. Was he intimidated by how awesome they were? Being BFFs with an influencer could be nerve-racking, sure, but Fabián had been on his best behavior just now.

“They go to my church, actually. I didn’t know they’d be here until yesterday.”

I nodded. I was glad he was starting school with some friends, even if they seemed dumb.

He still wouldn’t meet my eye.

“Wes?” I took a step closer, reaching for his hand. But he shoved them both into his pockets.

Fabián and Ruth gave me a sympathetic look from where they waited over by Wesley’s church friends. They were probably wondering where the hysterical boyfriend I’d bragged so much about had gone. I’d told them how funny Wesley was, but he was completely different from the boy in front of me.

For someone who had asked me to be his girlfriend a couple days ago, Wesley sure wasn’t acting like my boyfriend.

“Listen, Parvin,” Wesley started, finally making eye contact. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and I think it’s better if we just stay friends. You’re just . . . a little . . .”

My heart stopped. I held my breath, waiting for Wesley to explain the punch line. This had to be a joke, right? Who dumped someone two days after asking them to be their girlfriend?

“Loud,” he said finally. He gestured to all of me, as if I could read his mind and understand what that meant.

I gasped. Loud? Moi? This had to be another one of Wesley’s jokes, like the time we covered the lifeguard chair in body glitter.

“Shiver me timbers, Wes,” I snorted, remembering how much he liked my pirate-speak earlier this week. “Good one, Captain!”

But Wesley just shook his head. “It was fine at the beach and all. But things are different now. You’re just really . . . um . . .”

He looked at the ceiling tiles, as if he’d find the right word up there. “Too much.”

This couldn’t be happening. This had to be a prank.

“What does that even mean?” I chuckled, but it was a strained, shaky sound.

He remained silent. I reached for his hand again, but he kept it in his pocket. “We’re still on for hanging out after orientation, right?” I pressed. I had already scoped out the school’s parking lot, and if I moved each assigned parking space over by one, Principal Saulk wouldn’t have a spot to slide his Prius into tomorrow. It was the perfect trick, and I needed Wesley’s help since Fabián and Ruth refused to help with my little schemes anymore.

“Ummm,” he said uncomfortably.

The laugh I’d been holding back for when he yelled “Just kidding!” died in my throat. Was this really happening? Wesley had never mentioned before that I was “too loud” or “too much” all summer. He had seemed happy enough listening to me explain why mint chocolate chip was the best ice cream flavor, or why I still wore bronzer even though my skin was already pretty bronze.

Wesley just shook his head. “Sorry, Parvin. I don’t think you should be my girlfriend anymore.”

He walked away, back to his church friends.

And then I died.

Five Seconds Later

Oh, look, a comfortable patch of linoleum.

I think I will lie down for a bit.

Hallway

10 minutes later

Fabián had emptied a bag of Hot Cheetos, and Ruth was using it to resuscitate me.

Reviews

Praise for Perfectly Parvin:
A 2023 Sequoyah Book Award Nominee (OK)
A 2023 Texas Lone Star Reading List Pick
A 2022 Golden Kite Honor Award Winner

A 2022–2023 Georgia Peach Book Award Nominee
A 2022 YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults Pick

A 2022 ALA Rise: A Feminist Book Project List Pick

A 2021 New York Public Library Best Book Pick
A 2021 Chicago Public Library Best Book Pick
A 2021 BuzzFeed Best Young Adult Pick

A Book Riot Must Read YA Romance Pick


“Abtahi writes a touching contemporary that's hilariously heartfelt about one girl's journey to self-discovery.” —BuzzFeed

★ “Abtahi deftly navigates Parvin's transitional life phase, equipping her with enough humor and moxie to see her through even the toughest challenges . . . A joyful celebration of the right to take up space in the world.” —Booklist, starred review

★ “Abtahi’s charming debut will have readers cheering for Parvin. . . an incredibly charming, funny, and lovable protagonist who greets life with unbridled enthusiasm . . . as she navigates her two cultures with vim. . . A truly delightful story about a charming and engaging teen navigating freshman year.” —School Library Journal, starred review

“Parvin’s narratorial voice sparkles with wit and pathos, and her journey toward self-acceptance seamlessly incorporates political and emotional realities. . . A diverse, fast-paced, feminist romance.” —Kirkus Reviews

“The fast-paced writing, wonderfully diverse cast, and very realistic and age-appropriate thoughts, choices, and realizations make this a solid read. Smart, funny, and full of heart.” —Teen Librarian Toolbox

Authentic and organically hilarious. . . A fresh, charming standout.”—YALSA
 
“At its heart, this breezy YA title is about trying to find love by pretending to be someone else when being yourself is all that matters.” —Brightly

“The ebullient, eponymous heroine of Olivia Abtahi’s novel Perfectly Parvin—a prankster with a rambunctious wit . . . determines to remake herself as a demure, seen-but-not-heard young lady. The effort is doomed—if often hilarious—and has her trying but failing to tamp herself down through a friend’s quinceañera party and Farsi classes, through online makeup consults with her Iranian aunt and a tragic band audition.” —The Globe and Mail

Author

© Heritage and Bloom
Olivia Abtahi is a writer and filmmaker born in Washington, DC. When she isn't drafting novels about awkward teens, you can find her working on documentaries about social justice and climate equity. She currently lives in Denver, Colorado, with her husband and their daughter. View titles by Olivia Abtahi