Trigger warning:mentions of domestic abuse towards the end of the chapter.
"Kaya?" Dan said. "Can I tell you something without coming off as weird?"
A thousand thoughts began racing through my head. My palms became sweaty and pulse began to race as I thought what on earth he wanted to tell me.
"Of course," I said, preparing myself for whatever came next.
"I know this is going to sound wild, but I can't get you off my mind. Is that even possible since we've only known each other for such a short time?" His mouth averaged a million words a minute. "Even so, I can't stop thinking abou-"
I cut him off mid-sentence by swiftly leaning in and pressing my lips against his. While, at first, he was caught off guard, it took less than a second for him to get into the kiss just as much as me as our lips moving in unison. His arms snaked around my waist while my hands rested on his shoulders.
After a short time, we pulled away. He stared into my brown eyes as I stared into his while we took in the moment. We stopped just in time because no more than a few seconds after, someone barged in, said something incoherent, and then left.
After that, we decided to head back downstairs. As I hit the bottom step, Marcelo shoved an unknown drink into my hand and I drank I without a second thought. It didn't take long for me to lose Dan in the crowd.
"Hey, Kayane!" Dan shouted to me once I found him again. He said my name wrong again, but his breath had the lingering smell of Hennessy, so I let it go. He put his arm around me as he chugged the drink in his hand. "Where have you been?"
"Looking for you."
"I've been here the whole time!"
I grabbed Dan's cup, much to his dismay, and downed the rest of it. He wasn't drunk by any means, just a little bit tipsy.
"I think you've had enough," I told him, steering him towards the door to get in my (new!) car. Dan sloppily weaved in between fellow party-goers on his way outside. I've seen my mom enough times to know I don't want to see Dan like that.
One advantage of living in a small town is that it doesn't take long to get anywhere. Dan and I were in and out of Marcelo's house and back home in less than five minutes.
We walked through the dark house, navigating our way to my bedroom. I told him to lay down and rest.
"Seriously, Kayane, I'm not drunk. I literally had like two drinks," he told me while he pulled back my comforter. I took off my shoes and crawled into bed next to him.
"I know," I cooed, caressing his jaw. "I just wanted to get out of there."
Before he could say another word, I kissed him again, and again, and again. My hands started to travel to places I've never been. His fingers began to explore parts of me that haven't even been discovered yet. My skin is uncharted territory and he's making sure he canvases every inch of it. Soon, I was being colonized by his body. The softness of his drew me closer to him.
The next morning, I awoke in my own bed. Dan was already awake, holding his aching head in his hands. Thankfully for him, I know some pretty good home remedies to cure small hangovers.
He didn't mention the beauty of the previous night. I tried to bring it up, but he changed the subject.
Days later, Dan and Phil were due to go back home to Manchester.
I'm honestly going to really miss Dan when he leaves. As cliché has it is, it feels like my whole life has led up to the moment where I met him. I feel so silly. To feel for a guy I've only known a short while, only to have him leave in the same amount of time. These weeks have gone by quickly, but Dan probably knows me just as well as the people I grew up with.
To get some alone time away from Phil and Sam, Dan and I made the excuse of getting snacks from a vending machine.
"Do you have to leave?" I asked, fighting back tears.
"Don't be upset, Kaya," Dan said as he pulled me into a hug. "We can Skype and talk on Facebook. Maybe I can visit sometime. Vidcon is close to the area, so I can visit."
"I know, but you'll be so far away in the meantime." I paused. "I've been thinking about going to a university in London." Dan asked me why I would leave the country when I live near some really good universities. "I know I live near reputable schools, but I've been offered a full scholarship to King's College London. I haven't decided yet, but this is a really good opportunity for me."
"I'll support you no matter your decision, but don't choose a school based on me, please. Either way, we'll figure something-"
"I want to talk about the other night," I blurted out, cutting him off. "It was my first time and I feel we're just trying to pretend it didn't happen. I don't want it to be like that." He asked me if I wanted him to be honest. "Obviously."
"It shouldn't have happened." Way to be blunt, Dan. "At least not then. I really like you and I don't regret it, but we both had been drinking, even just a little. We should've waited."
Dan checked his watch and said that we should be heading back to Phil and Sam because their flight was about to start boarding. Before we left the vending machine area, he gave me a small kiss on the cheek. I wanted to talk about it more. Before I knew it, he was boarding a plane back to Manchester.
Airports are busy with hundreds of people but, in that moment, I felt alone.
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I've never enjoyed graduation ceremonies. They seem to drag on and on, and they're so boring. I planned not to go to mine since I know I would hate it, but all of my friends and some aunts and uncles convinced me to. The only plus is that Marcelo's last name comes right after mine so I got to sit by him.
Koko, Salma, Arakel, Ararat, and Yeraz were the firsts of my family to arrive, excluding Sam who drove me to the building. To my surprise, my mother sat with them. Next to arrive were my Aunt Admina and Uncle Sa'eed, along with my cousins, Madeline and Lucas. A few of my other relatives arrived before the ceremony started.
As Marcelo and I scanned the crowds for people we know, someone familiar walked through the door.
My father.
"Look," I said to Marcelo as I shook his arm and pointed towards my father. He gasped in astonishment once he laid eyes on him. "What's he doing here?"
"Maybe he came to apologize," he said as Mrs. Tankian, the principal of the school, started speaking at the podium.
Maybe my father did come to apologize. But there's no way in hell that I would forgive him for all the things he's done.
I quickly pushed those thoughts out of my mind once he started calling names. Since my last name starts with an N, I had some time to prepare myself before walking up.
Boy, am I glad that I didn't get to be valedictorian. While many argued for me because I am top of my class, I wasn't chosen because of my habit of skipping class, talking back to teachers, breaking the dress code, and getting into a fight. Even though the fight was a one-time thing, most of the teachers agreed that I didn't best represent the graduating class. But Tatiana lost her place too. She is a good student, I'll give her that, but getting into a fight with me killed her chances as well.
"Marcelo Navarro..." Mrs. Tankian said.
Marcelo quickly got up, practically ran through the stage, and then power walked back to the rest of the people who had already gotten their diplomas.
"Kayane Nazaryan..." Thank God Mrs. Tankian is Armenian as well and didn't completely butcher my name.
Just as Marcelo did, I quickly walked up to the stage, got my diploma, shook Mrs. Tankian's hand, and then basically ran off the stage to Marcelo, and, at that, my five seconds of fame was up.
After commencement had officially concluded, I left Marcelo and went over to my family. My aunts insisted on taking a billion pictures of me with my cap and robe on. We even did one of those "traditional" photos with Kevork and my mother standing next to each other and me in the middle. Typically, these pictures are taken with parents, Kevork took my father's place.
Speaking of fathers, after telling everyone a million times which university I've chosen to go to in the fall, my father started to walk up to me. No one noticed him at first except for Kevork, who told me I didn't have to talk to him if I didn't want to.
I told my family I'd be back and then walked my dad out to the hallway for some privacy. Well, privacy from my family since other families were in the hall.
"Congratulations, jan," he said as he tried to pull me into a hug. I quickly put my arms between us to physically push him away and told him not to touch me. This caused me to get dirty looks from some of the more traditional and conservative parents in the hallway but I don't care because my dad is one of the most emotionally and verbally abusive people I've ever encountered. He is a disgusting, manipulating gaslighter.
It took my siblings and I years to finally convince my mother to leave him. He once physically restrained my mother from leaving when she packed her bags and was ready to fly back home to Syria because she was tired of his rampant abuse. He's even threatened to hurt himself, or even kill himself, if she left, which is one reason why it took her so long to build up the courage to leave. He would call her all sorts of names in front of her us, the rest of the family, her friends, and even strangers. We were at a restaurant and my dad called her worthless in front of the waiter.
So, yeah, let the strangers stare because I'm not going to appease to some social conventions by hugging my abusive father just to avoid some stares.
"Kayane Yerjanik Nazaryan, you will respect your elders," he scolded.
"I respect those who deserve it and you do not."
"I did not raise you to be so disrespectful. Tell me, what have I done to deserve this?" he whined. I rolled my eyes at him. This is a typical stunt many people like him pull to make people feel sorry for him.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to see my eldest daughter graduate. Is that a crime?" I told that it isn't, but it's pretty pathetic. "I've recently come into some money and I want to reunite with you and your siblings."
"Fuck off," I said louder than I meant to, "I don't want anything from you. So, please, just leave. Don't talk to me, don't talk to Kevork, or Salma, or any of us. We don't want you here, so just leave us alone."
I walked back into the gymnasium to find my family before he could say anything else.
"I'm gonna miss you," my sister, Yeraz, told me as I pulled her into a smothering hug. Her eyes were glossy from tears.
Today, I'm preparing to head off to my flight to London. I made my decision and King's College London is the school for me. I'd be lying if I said Dan didn't influence my decision, but I'm not completely head over heels and the school's prestige definitely did take precedence.
"I'm gonna miss you too," I replied. Once she let go, I pulled the twins, Ararat and Arakel, into a hug. Being the teenage boys they are, they pretended to not like it. "I'll miss you guys too."
"I hope you have fun over there," Salma said. She may still be hostile towards me, but she never stopped loving me. "Promise you'll call us at least once a week."
"No, twice a week," Koko butted in.
"I'll call every day," I laughed, "morning and night. No way you're getting rid of me."
The goodbyes didn't last long. I knew that if I dragged it out, I'd never want to leave. In the weeks leading up, I doubted my decision. I love my family and I love my friends and I love Vela Ensenada. But I also love my education and my future, whatever it may hold.
"I'll be back before you know it," I told them. I wasn't even bothering to hold back tears. "I love you guys."
Today, I have officially been in London for two whole weeks.
I haven't told Dan yet. We drifted apart over the summer and I simply don't want to tell him at this point.
While the semester doesn't start for a few weeks, I figured it would be best to move in early so I can know the area first, set up my apartment, and just settle in.
The complex that I moved into is really close to campus and the owners decided to do the smart thing and realize that most of the residents are students and offer a student discount. The apartment is actually only slightly higher than it would be for a dorm room, which is nice. It isn't the best of places, but what can be done on a student budget?
The best thing about living on my own is that I can make my own decisions. Yeah, before when I lived with Sam, I could do what I want, but our relationship has always been friendly, but authoritative. When I moved in with her, she was like a mother and that relationship stuck which is why I always asked her permission before I did anything.
The one thing I don't miss is that I'm no longer forced to see a psychiatrist who forces me to take all those medications. I hate Prozac. The side-effects are horrible and my psychiatrist refuses to take me off of it. In fact, I brought it up nearly every visit with my psychiatrist and he just upped the dose.
I'm whole again.