First Times

158 14 27
                                    

When Janis Sarkisian was eight years old, she found out she was adopted.

After coming back from school one day, ecstatic about the A she had gotten on her art project, her parents sat her down in the living room after dinner and told her everything.

With her tabby cat, Marmelade, snuggling next to her on the cozy brown couch, Janis listened carefully as Thomas and Nora Sarkisian explained to her, as concisely as possible for a third grader to comprehend, how they had always wanted a child and after years of trying with no success they decided to adopt. They hugged her tightly and caressed her hair, telling her how they fell in love with her and knew she was their child the second they held her for the very first time, barely a day old.

Janis tried not to let the news affect her too much. So what if they weren't her biological parents? They were still her parents and she loved them with all her heart. And if her real parents didn't want her, that was their loss; Janis was pretty awesome.

On the next day of school, during recess, she told Regina about the conversation with her folks.

"Did they, like, abandon you in front of an orphanage or something?" Regina asked, bright blue eyes looking at Janis intrigued.

"I'm pretty sure that only happens in movies" Janis took a big sip of her apple juice before continuing "They didn't tell me, all they said was that my real mom couldn't take care of me and they don't know anything about my dad."

There was one more thing she knew: Her birth mother's first name.

Veronica.

Janis thought that name was pretty.

She had a nanny named Veronica when she was five. A chubby woman, with curly red hair, a few years older than Mom and Dad. She would come over when grandma wasn't available to take care of her and would let Janis watch TV before bedtime and used an incredibly sweet perfume that always gave the little girl a headache.

She wondered if her birth mom, her Veronica, was like that.

Although they never met her in person, the Sarkisians knew more about her, things they said Janis was too young to learn or even understand. But they promised to tell her everything she wanted to know when the time was right.

For some reason, Janis didn't want to share the part about the name with her friend. She wanted to keep that last piece of information, something so intimate, just to herself.

"But don't you want to know?" Regina persisted, dark blonde curls swaying as she moved closer to the brunette, as if they were talking about a secret no one else could know. Regina did that sometimes, even when they discussed irrelevant stuff like homework or sleepovers; she said she liked making everyone curious and wondering what they were talking about.

Janis shrugged.

"I don't think so. It's not gonna change anything."

"I would want to know everything," Regina continued, munching on a baby carrot "What if they're loaded?"

***

When Janis Sarkisian was seventeen years old, she found out who her mother was.

After so many years, her parents kept their promise.

Janis saw the worried glances they exchanged across the dinner table when she brought back the whole "biological mom" thing, something that had been left untouched for so long; still, they told her everything she wanted to know

If the girl was being honest with herself, she didn't know why she was so curious. Janis was completely satisfied with her life. Her problems with Regina George and her Louboutin Gestapo were over, she had the most awesome best friend and an amazing girlfriend. And more importantly, she had the greatest, most loving parents in the whole world and she wouldn't trade them for anything.

First Times Where stories live. Discover now