Chapter Text
My name is Seren Tweak-Tucker, I am 16 years old, and today my dad's just broke the news to me that I have to move across the Atlantic. Leaving my home, my friends and the only life I know behind. I'm use to the USA, both of my dads are American, so we visit a lot. But I'm not. I'm British. Born to a Welsh couple who didn't want me (talk about missing out), and raised in the South East of England, granted by two American men. The only thing I'm missing is some Scottish.
It is such a weird time to leave too, I just got my GCSEs, got accepted into the Sixth Firm I wanted to go to (fuck off collage lovers), and now I have to do a minimum of a year in American school. How does it even work out there? Also a minimum of a year? How don't they know how long we will live out there for? I get it's hard to tell, since we are moving for Dad (Craig Tweak-Tucker), his work have asked him to do a international projects other than the University of Denver, and apparently just using Teams isn't good enough. I wanted to ask if me and Pops (Tweek Tweak-Tucker) could stay behind, but I know Pops would struggle without dad. Dad would likely be just as heartbroken but he isn't willing to show it. They two of them need each other. They've been together since they were like 9, so I can imagine being apart is a stranger concept. I've never seen two people love each other so much, something I aim for, but fear I will never find. A love like theirs is as common as Blood Falls.
Luckily for us, the two of them are from Colorado, in a town not far from Denver, South Park. So we will stay there, I am assuming with one of my grandparents, I think it's most likely to be the Tuckers, they have the most spare bedrooms, they are usually who we stay with. Dad still has the key.
I wish they were telling me more about the move.
Two days before we leave: Dad is at work, he is as astronomer at the University of Kent. Originally he only did research for them, and through his work there he was granted a Doctorate, so he now is also a lecturer. He needs to wrap up his studies and brief the guy who will cover his modules whilst gone. I wonder if he will lecture at the University of Denver too? Hopefully not because his not a fan of lecturing as it is (but extra money). Meanwhile, Pops is in the kitchen, re-re-re-re-re-re-re-i-lost-count-re-checking the packing lists, assuring himself that we have everything we need. This move isn't helping with his hair count. But he is doing it all for dad.
None of it for me.
I don't want to leave my home behind, my country. Not that I'm proud of the state of Britain, especially with the slimly rat-turtle ass looking Hilter reincarnation, Nigel Farage, gaining so much traction. Fucking nazis. But it is still my country, somewhere I love. It's so beautifully depressing. I don't remember Wale much, I'm definitely a good metaphor for English erasure of the Welsh culture, because England, especially Canterbury is everything to me. My first memory is of going to the University of Kent with Pops to surprise Dad, just waddling across ther autumnal campus, passing all the students in their late noughties fashion. To get to Dads office we had to pass the biology labs, I don't think I had ever felt such amazement as I did that day.
The heartbreak I feel over moving, I wonder if this is how dads felt about leaving America.
"Pops?" I asked as I walked into the kitchen, trying my best to not catch him off guard. He glances over with a sympathetic look, he's feeling guilty about the move, I walk over and sit across from him at the dinning table. "Are you okay?" I asked, I realised I actually hadn't asked him about how he felt about the move. I knew that dad was semi-excited because it allows him to get involved in development of human understanding of outer space, but wasn't sure how much time he wanted to spend back in the States. Pops was hesitant to speak, I like 90% certain there is more to their migration to the UK than just work, "Nervous to say the least, but it's also home." He is sort of talking to himself there, being hyper aware that what he says doesn't apply to me. "I imagine nan and grandad will be happy to have you hoe." I added, we don't often visits the Tweaks as much, I don't really know why, I always just assume it's because they are too busy running a cafe in their 60s or however old my grandparents are. He shakes his head. "Maybe, they will be too busy to see us for the first month at the least, after all the seasons are changing." I get parents want to protect their kids, but I wish they could tell me what they are protecting me from. I wanted to ask, I just never did. "What am I doing about school?" I sort of knew I would be studying out there, but the school system is so different to the one here. "We just planned on you going to South Park High."
"So no sixth form?"
"No." Pops gave me this pitiful look, I hated it.
"Okay, what's an American High school like?" I guess I need to prepare as soon as I can. I fear the idea of transferring too late into Alevels and then having to do an extra year, it would ruin the entire plan. Pops talked me over what he remembers of his high school experience, but the more he talked the more confused I was. It seemed very GSCEs system, but with what ever the fuck SATs and ACTs are. I wonder if I can do my Alevels from across the Atlantic. I mean we only do three subjects, I picked Biology, Mathematics and Applied Science, I mean laboratory assignments would be harder to grade but I could film them, right? I hope my future isn't at risk because of my dad's passions. It would be ironic since he is where my inspiration comes from. "Will Thomas go to school with me too then?" Thomas is my cousin, he's 15 and about to start whatever the equivalent of Year 11 is in the States. "Yeah, it will be his first year too, I mean you're be in Grade 11, and he will be in Grade 10, but you will be at the school together, just different classes."
"Wait, I'm in 11 again? Why are the American numbers behind?"
"I... I actually don't know why." Pops sat there thinking about for a moment, trying to make sense of this difference. There's some reasons, but he couldn't clock it and I think that's what annoyed him the most. "Oh well, at least I will know someone."
"Well, some of our friend's kids might go to South Park High too, I've never asked." He sparked up as the memory came back. I had met a few kids from South Park back when I visit, I'm not really close with any f them, I follow like two of them on instagram, but we never message.
Though most of my dads friends have children a lot younger or older then me, and I don't have any often them on anything. I think James Donovan is the one I get on the best with, he's a second year sports science student at some American University, I don't know high one, but he always would hang with me and Thomas when our parents met up. Samantha Black is cool, but she preferred to cling to her mother and then as she got older she would go to the parks to hang out with her friends. Which respect, but I just don't know her well enough.
I'm not ready for this. Normally I'm good with going to new places and not knowing people, but this is different, I have a different culture, different life. I don't fully know what I'm walking into so I need something stable. Thank god for Thomas.
Dad came home late that night. Apparently it took a lot to get his cover to understand his slides. He wasn't happy. "How are people so in competent?" Dad asked as he sat down for dinner, Pops made the most British dinner for our goodbye meal, a Roast dinner with extra Yorkshire puddings. My favourite. It feels like a last meal, we all agreed we would just go to maccies tomorrow night before heading to the airport, to make sure there's no dishes to clean up. "What's the plan for tomorrow?" I ask, thinking out how the entire soul to this house is packed away, it's nothing but furniture and minor decor. My room feels like a psych-ward with how bland it now looks. "To get in extra sleep, and just relax." dad says, knowing we all just need a break, Pops has been freaking out over the packing for the last week, and Dad is tired form dealing with the 'retarded new lecturer' for the last three days.
"Am I good to go out for a bit around lunch?" Pops looks over at dad, not sure whether he should say yes or not, Dad looks just and just nods with a mouthful of carrots. "Thanks."
I didn't really have any plan, figured I would just wonder Canterbury, maybe even go up the hill to the University and take it all in. I've already said goodbye to those I hang out with, and I don't want to have to do that all over again. I hate goodbyes. But I don't want to just sit at home and watch the clock tick.