"Hey."
Kiara felt a shudder crawl down her back the moment she heard Emre's deep timbre from the other side of the phone. She snuggled deeper into the pillows on her bed, pressing her phone closer to her ear as she bit her lips.
"Hi," she whispered back.
"You in bed already, zeytin gözlüm?" he asked lowly.
"Hmmm...I love it when you speak Turkish," she said lazily, her body relaxing even more under the warm comfort of her blanket. "Say something else..."
He chuckled on the other end of the phone, and she felt goosebumps prickle all over her arms.
"What do you want me to say?"
"...anything...you can read me your grocery list, I don't know..," she mumbled, "...it's not like I'll understand it anyways..."
"Åu anda sesin çok seksi geliyor."
"Hmmm...I noticed that your voice goes down two notes but softens out. It's like a beautiful, melodic rumble...," Kiara hummed appreciatively as she forced herself to keep her sleep lidded eyes open
"You got all that from just that once sentence?"
"No, from earlier as well when you were speaking to your mum. What did you say?"
She heard him take a deep breath before saying, "...Don't forget to buy eggs and sugar for tomorrow."
"Hey, no fair...you did read me your grocery list," she giggled sleepily, followed by a loud yawn.
"You didn't answer me; you already in bed?" he repeated himself when she heard the faint sounds of cymbals clapping somewhere from far behind.
She hummed as she nodded, too sleepy to even realise that he couldn't see her movements. "You practicin' with the guys?" she asked offhandedly before squeezing her eyes shut, feeling mortified at sounding like a nosy girlfriend.
"Uhuh, they all say hi by the way," he mumbled.
"Well, tell them I say hi back," she laughed lightly but it ended it a yawn as she struggled to open her eyes.
"Sure. I...I'll see you tomorrow, Kiara...," he trailed, she could imagine him running his hand through his hair.
"I'll see you then too," she yawned, "sorry, I can't be on longer," she yawned again.
"No big. I just wanted to hear your voice. Go to sleep Kiara, beni hayal etmek," he whispered in her ear.
"Good night, Emre Ersoy...," Kiara trailed, putting her phone away before she drifted off to sleep.
Kiara heard the multiple slams of the lockers as she dug through her own, making sure she had all the right textbooks for class today. She could feel a presence next to her and she bit back a smile.
Emre, after sorting out his own things, would wait for her at her locker. And there was this glint in his eyes that made her heart race every time he looked at her. Kiara bit her lip, lost in her thought when something landed with a gentle plop on her textbook. Squealing in shock, she looked up at Emre's laughing face.
Even though she had been seeing him smile and hearing his laugh, she was still in awe of it. It felt like an odd privilege bestowed on her, even now almost everyone in the hallway had turned around to look at them; well, to look at a laughing Emre.
"Happy birthday, prensesim...," he said still chuckling at her reaction.
"Thank you, Emre," she said, beaming as she looked up at him. She cocked her head as she saw his expression change, he raised his eyebrows expectantly as he looked at her and flicked her eyes downwards.
She flicked her eyes down to see a single pink peony resting on her textbook. Kiara pursed her lips, not really sure what to say, her eyes still on the peony. Slowly he placed a small white bakery box on the textbook, careful not to damage the flower.
She looked up again at Emre and found her gaze riveted to the blush that lined around his collar and the way he ruffled his hair not meeting her gaze.
"It's a rose and cinnamon cronut with ground pistachios...," he almost whispered, looking at his feet, his body leaning heavily against the lockers, holding on to his backpack strap with his right hand.
"Okay, your turn done. My turn now," Kiara was pulled away from Emre and engulfed in a bear hug by Mila. "Happy happy birthday, bestie!!" she squealed, crushing Kiara closer to her.
They both separated in fits of giggles, as the hallway got busier with more students rushing to get to the first class of the day. She could feel Mila drag her along for their first class. Her eyes darted back to where Emre stood, and she bit her lip as he pushed off from where he stood. Their eyes not breaking contact as she was pulled further and further away from him. She held on tightly to the peony and the cronut as Mila weaved through the hallway.
She watched as he mouthed 'happy birthday' with upturn lips before walking the opposite direction to his class.
When they had finally settled in class, Kiara had to slap away Mila's nosy hands as she kept trying to touch the flower and the cronut.
"So, what's the deal with you and skaterboy? Like, he's been at your locker every morning since Monday. What happened last weekend that you haven't told me? What are you hiding?" Mila raised her eyebrows suspiciously.
"Oh for the love of God - nothing Mila, absolutely nothing!" annoyance lacing Kiara's voice. This wasn't the first time that Mila had asked her this question and it was beginning to grate on her nerves. Yes, she admits it she didn't tell Mila about their almost kiss neither did she tell her that they talk almost every night before she goes to sleep. Albeit very short conversations, but his voice is the last one she hears before she closes her eyes and she likes it.
And the best part of it all is that they talk about music. Sharing pieces of music in the darkness of the night that even in all her naivety, she knew meant something. They were sharing pieces of their soul to each other. And oh, how beautiful Emre's soul is, she mused, biting her lip. Her fingers traced the fragile petals of the pink peony.
She knew how Mila would react to it all. Talking down Emre. Bringing up her mother. Mentioning Carnegie Hall. Paris. She just didn't want to hear it. Maybe, just maybe, there was also a selfish part of her that wanted to keep it all to herself. And as much as she was aware that it was childish, she wanted to keep him all to herself.
Kiara slapped away Mila's hands that were trying to sneakily pry open the bakery box. "This is mine. Go find your own cupcake," Kiara said laughing at Mila's childish antics.
"Happy birthday, beta-ji," Kiara heard Moussa say from behind her. Turning away from the piano, she found him leaning at the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest with a huge smile on his face. Still in his work clothes, he walked to her and engulfed Kiara in a bear hug.
"And how old are you now?" he teased her and chuckled when she rolled her eyes smirking when he removed his arms.
"Kya Baba, har sal aap yehi sawaal puchetay hain," she said in her heavily accented Urdu.
"Well, I do need to make sure we have the correct numbers of candles on the cake," she watched his smile turn melancholic. "My baby is growing up."
Kiara surged forward and tightened her arms around her father in a hug. Not knowing why, she felt a sudden wave of melancholy. This time next year, she would be in Paris. Alone.
"I am always your baby, Baba," she mumbled into his shirt. She felt the vibrations of his chuckle when she said that.
"That is until you get married. Then you'll be someone else's aafat!" he laughed as he patted her back lovingly.
"Now, tell me what do you want for your birthday?"
"I don't know Baba," she shrugged turning back to the keyboard. Her fingers mindless plucking on the same key.
She could feel her Baba's eyes on her and felt him shifting to sit more comfortably on the piano bench beside her.
"How is the preparation for this Saturday?" she heard him ask carefully. He was treading gently with her, she knew and she couldn't be more grateful to him.
"Baba, I think...I think I don't want to do recitals, showcases anymore...at least until I have to for music school...," she said carefully, head bent low, shoulders curled in. She swallowed heavily as she waited for her father's anger or disappointment. What she heard was just a quiet sigh.
"I knew this day would come when you would want to stop. And I won't lie and say that I am unhappy about your decision," she heard him say, her head whipped up in shock.
"Do you still want to do Carnegie on Saturday?" he asked patiently.
Kiara nodded, speechless but clearing her throat she managed to croak out, "But Mama...,"
"That's not for you to worry about beta-ji. You know that I will always fight for what's right for you," she blinked back tears at her father's words. "I'll speak to her after the party on Saturday."
He had always been the buffer between her and her mother. Softening the harsh words that Salima would inflict on Kiara knowingly. Tears clouded her vision before she even realised that they were there.
"Thank you, Baba," she said quietly. "For taking care of me."
They had both looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened fall. Kiara knew that no matter what happened, her father will always be there for her; slaying dragons for her if she ever needed him to.
Moussa cleared his throat harshly as he stood up. Pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head, he slowly made to walk out the room. Before he left Kiara quickly called for him stopping him in his tracks.
"Baba, can I get an extra ticket for Saturday? I...uh...invited Emre...," she said shyly. She could feel the flush that had taken over her body.
She smiled shyly as Moussa nodded, smirking at her before he continued on his way out of the piano room. Collecting her things and closing the piano lid gently, she climbed up the steps in her room. She paused hand on the doorknob as she heard her mother's cold voice call her name. Gulping she turned around, looking at her mother expectantly.
"Happy birthday, Kiara," Salima said icily, standing pridefully straight. She turned and walked into her room slamming the door shut.
Exhaling loudly Kiara paused, as she heard the rise and fall of the exchanges between her parents. Leaning her head on her door, she listened to the chill in her mother's voice and the rumble in her father's voice.
If she had to guess, she would think it was because Salima had ignored her birthday once again like she had for years. Yes, there was the grand parties, the three-tiered fondant decorated cakes, the overflowing gifts piled in a corner; but it was more for others than for Kiara. It was more a show of her wealth rather than a genuine show of affection.
And like every year, when Moussa would remind Salima to wish Kiara; she would do so, and they would then launch into another disagreement.
Walking into her room, she gently threw her phone onto the bed and got ready for bed. It was pretty early she knew but she was oddly exhausted. She would never admit it but the years of being aware of her parents fighting, of the cold shoulder had her exhausted to her core. She couldn't wait to finally be free of all of it in Paris. Where she would be far away from her mother and her icy regard for Kiara.
As she was about to close her eyes, it landed on the pink peony on her vanity. It was blooming now, sitting in a vase with warm water. It looked a bit banged up from her holding it all day in school but it was still blooming. There were a few petals that were bruised, turning brown as proof of the abuse it suffered that day. But there was still that sweet scent from the flower. Such was nature's way; no one could stop a flower that was meant to bloom. And oh, how beautifully it did so.