At first, Kayla Monpoint didn't know what to make of her new roommate. The Cadmus College campus, located in the heart of Greenwich, Connecticut, attracted its fair share of international students, but none of them were anything like Mona Yandarbiyev, the Eastern European Muslim woman with whom she found herself sharing a two-bedroom apartment. The new gal would take some getting used to, that's for damn sure.
"Salaam, sister, I'm Mona, I'm originally from Grozny, Chechen Republic," the six-foot-tall, slender, pale-skinned, Hijab-wearing young woman said to Kayla, on the very day that they met. After a brief hesitation, Kayla returned Mona's smile, and then shook her hand. While Mona spoke, Kayla noticed that she had an accent which she didn't recognize.
Growing up in the City of Hartford, Connecticut, Kayla had met her fair share of foreigners, but Mona was in a category by herself. It wasn't just the fact that this tall young white woman was wearing Arabic-style clothing, complete with a headscarf that hid her hair, and that she had a weird habit of staring right into Kayla's eyes. Mona Yandarbiyev was absolutely, positively weird...
"Cool, I'm Kayla, where exactly is Grozny?" replied the young Haitian-American woman, speaking candidly. Mona then launched into a lengthy explanation of Chechen Muslim politics and geography, and her people's ongoing issues with the Russian Federation. Kayla, who hadn't wanted to know about any of that, smiled politely, wondering if Mona, the Chechen motor-mouth, had an off button. Living with this chick is going to be interesting, Kayla thought, amused.
Fortunately, the two young women, different as they were, seemed to get along just fine. As it turns out, Mona was very devoted to her Islamic faith, praying five times a day and never venturing beyond their apartment without having the Hijab on her head, concealing her long, curly dark hair. Not my cup of tea but it's your life, Kayla thought, watching Mona Yandarbiyev do her thing.
Kayla, the Hartford-born daughter of immigrants originally from the Cap-Haitien region of the island of Haiti, once went on a trip to the City of Montreal, Quebec, to visit her extended family. While walking around the City of Montreal with her cousins Marie and Jessica, Kayla saw a lot of Muslims in traditional attire, from bearded men in robes that resembled what the Jedi wore in Star Wars to ladies in long dresses and Hijabs.
For the most part, the Muslims that Kayla remembered seeing in the City of Montreal were African, Arab or South Asian. Mona was the first white Muslim that Kayla had ever met, that's for damn sure. Religion had never been Kayla's thing, although her old-fashioned parents, Louis and Gina Monpoint made her attend Holy Trinity of the Apostles for most of her life. Growing up in the largest black church in all of Hartford, Connecticut, Kayla Monpoint felt like an odd duck.
"You can't be a good Haitian Christian gal and openly like other girls," said Rina Lucien, the young woman whom Kayla considered her best friend, the night she confessed her true feelings. The two young women had been hanging out at Dunn's River, a chic Caribbean restaurant frequented by Haitians, Jamaicans and others in the City of Hartford. Dunn's had long been one of Kayla and Rina's favorite hangouts after church.
"Kayla, don't you think I know that? I can't help it, when I see a pretty girl, I feel things," Kayla replied, and Rina sighed, and then hastily changed the subject. The two of them had known each other for a very long time. They'd even fooled around a few times, but to Rina, that' s all it was, just fooling around. Rina always had a boyfriend, even though she made out ( and more ) with her best friend Kayla, and lots of other girls.
Standing five-foot-eleven, athletic, curvy and sexy, with dark brown skin, almond-shaped golden brown eyes and a stylish Afro, Kayla Monpoint didn't "look" lesbian, but she definitely was. Sure, Kayla had always been interested in non-stereotypically female things, such as football, boxing, and MMA. Also, she wanted to study civil engineering in college, a decidedly male-dominated major. Kayla still considered herself a normal gal, thank you very much.
Kayla Monpoint didn't subscribe to labels such as butch, tomboyish, femme or girly. She was simply her own woman. Kayla had a fondness for African-style clothing, and was very feminine and Afrocentric. Kayla idolized black female icons like Tennis legend Serena Williams, WNBA legend Lisa Leslie, Hollywood actress Angela Bassett, and famed attorney/politician Kamala Harris.
"Kayla, you and I have had fun, and I like you, a lot, but trust me, if you go in parade mode with this dyke shit, we can't hang no more," Rina replied, while sipping her Pepsi. Kayla looked at Rina and nodded, and just like that, the two young women talked about the road trip they would take with their friends and the experiences that awaited them at their respective colleges in the fall.
Rina Lucien opted to remain in the City of Hartford, having gotten accepted at Hartford University, while Kayla Monpoint decided to stretch her wings. She went to Cadmus College in Greenwich, about seventy one miles from metropolitan Hartford, for many reasons. First and foremost, Kayla wanted to be on her own. Second of all, she was tired of her parents begging her to attend Christian counseling sessions to "cure" her lesbian feelings. Thanks but no thanks, as far as Kayla was concerned.
"You are very beautiful," Mona said to Kayla one evening, as the young woman was getting ready to go out. Decked out in a black leather jacket, red tank top, black leather skirt and black leather boots, Kayla looked mighty fly. She was meeting with her new friends Rosita Perez and Clarice Jacobson at Studio 338, one of the biggest night clubs in all of Greenwich.
"Um, thanks, hope to meet a cutie or two tonight," Kayla replied, and she looked at her roommate, who definitely didn't look like she was going to go out. Clad in a long-sleeved blue T-shirt, dark blue sweatpants and dark gray socks with holes in them, her long dark hair sans hijab for a chance, Mona looked like the very definition of a homebody.
"Kayla, you, um, you like girls, yes?" Mona asked shyly, and Kayla paused at the door, wondering where Mona was going with this. We've been roommates for three months and this chick has seen me kiss girls, and now she reacts, Kayla thought, both wryly amused and annoyed by Mona's sheer naivety. Mona looked into Kayla's eyes and smiled, and for some reason, this irked Kayla even more.
"Yes, Mona, we've been over this, I am a lesbian, I like women," Kayla replied, shaking her head and wondering why she was bothering to explain herself to Miss Chechnya. She'd gotten a text from Rosita who was driving, with Clarice in the car. This foreign bitch better not make me late, Studio 338 is definitely popping on a Friday night, Kayla thought.
Kayla was really looking forward to a night out with Rosita and Clarice. The three young women met in Women's And Gender Studies, during an assignment on lesbians in the U.S. military, a group project assigned to them by their brilliant ( and male ) feminist professor Jonathan Dwyer. As it turns out, Kayla's new friends Rosita and Clarice were also queer and single in the city...
"Do you have a girlfriend?" Mona asked, rising from the couch, until she was mere inches from Kayla. Way closer than Kayla considered socially acceptable. Even in the Haitian immigrant community, where people were usually loud, affectionate and touchy, people usually gave you breathing space while talking to you. You're too close for comfort, lady, Kayla thought, peeved by Mona's breach of her personal space.
