Dara did her best to discourage Brayden from moving to America. She read him articles about people who had been shot to death because someone saw their blackness as a crime, and invented stories about uncles and aunties who had gone to America for 'greener pastures' only to wash rancid shit-filled toilets and wipe old people's behinds. She told him that his African tongue would shrivel up in dissatisfaction with the bland, spiceless meals and that his skin would flake away from the cold.

She never let him breach the topic of relocation. When she noticed his sentences were beginning to feature 'America' a bit too much, she steered his mind away by kissing him. Brayden hated it when they kissed. He never pulled away, but she always got the sense that he wanted to. His lips always tasted like resentment, and when he touched her, he did so with a painful reluctance that made her know he was angry.

"Don't kiss me again," he said once, while they were watching Grey's Anatomy. Brayden had told her he wanted to study medicine in college, and when Dara asked him which university, he said it was one in America. Dara kissed him before he could finish saying 'America'. She sucked the words from his lips, swallowed them, and hoped they got fully digested in her, so they could never travel back to his lips again. Brayden pushed her away then.

"I hate it when you do that."

Dara folded her arms. "You don't like kissing me?"

"I do—you know I do. I just don't think we should. I'm leaving in three days."

"No you're not."

"C'mon. We have to talk about it."

"I don't want to."

"Dara, what are you so afraid of? We don't live in the olden days. We have phones. We'll still stay in touch. We'll talk every day and—"

"You know it won't be the same."

"Maybe."

Dara played with the ropes of his hoodie. "I'm scared. If you leave, what will I do? I don't have anyone, and I don't want to go to Aunty Mariam. I don't want to go to Military school. If you leave, I swear I'll kill—"

"Shut up."

She shrunk away from him.

"Don't talk like that. It's not fair to the both of us."

"I'm sorry."

Dara wasn't really sorry. Until then, she didn't know love could be so selfish. She had never yearned for anything so strongly before, a yearning so complete, so consuming, it made you do stupid things. Once, she considered cutting Brayden's passport into pieces. That way, he would never leave her. But as she held the green book between the sharp blades of the scissors, she could not bring herself to do it. Instead, she shoved his passport back into his drawer, ran back to her room and cried until the following morning, the tears hot and scorching against her face. How was it possible to grieve over someone you had not yet lost?

"Dara, you're scaring me," Brayden said. It was the day he was leaving and she could not stop crying. He stayed with her, even though he should've been packing. His mother yelled for him to head back into the house multiple times, but he pretended not to hear her.

Two hours before his flight, Brayden drove her down to the grocery store they first met at. They wandered through the empty aisles, holding each other, laughing and talking about nothing and everything. When they came across the shelve stacked from top to bottom with rat poison, she smiled.

"That day, I would've died if not for you."

Brayden backed away from her in mock-surprise. "Really? I thought you only said you were suicidal to get my attention."

"Asshole."

Brayden laughed, then took Dara's hand and pressed it to his heart. "I don't know if it's weird to say this, but...I think I love you."

"I think I love you too."

"Dara..."

Dara's eyes pooled up again. "And this is when you tell me goodbye, isn't it? Don't bother. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to."

Brayden pulled her to him, resting his chin on her head. She drew comfort from the steady drum of his heartbeat "No, I wasn't going to tell you goodbye, Dara. With us, there are no goodbyes. We'll meet again."

"When?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Five years?"

"Five years is a long time. You'll forget about me."

She could feel him grin above her head. "I doubt it. It isn't every day you meet a girl who wants to eat rat poison."

Dara laughed, the ache in her chest softening. Suddenly, five years didn't seem like such a long time.