Kori carefully applied eyeliner to accentuate her eyes' almond shape. It felt weird. Not the need to hide herself, but doing it with paste and creams and powders. She glanced longingly at a scarf on the back of the bathroom door and ran her thin fingers over the stitched flowers in the cloth. She could still smell vanilla, even though her mother was long gone.
She sighed. Her height was already intimidating, and she refused to color her distinct hair. Wearing her mother's hijab would surely be too much. No. It was better to cover her birthmark with makeup, to hide her culture from view, to painstakingly straighten her hair every morning, to use the name the Underground gave her.
"Kori," her guardian called in Arabic, "you'll be late for class!"
Kori pouted slightly, very much missing her true name, and bounded down the stairs. A stout, golden-skinned man with a scarred face smiled and escorted her out the door.
"Uncle, must you call me by that name?" she asked in her native tongue.
He nodded shortly. "We must not use the names we had, little star. Here, you are Kori Anders, and I am your uncle, Skyler Anders."
"I want to wear Mother's hijab."
"It's not safe," Skyler warned.
Kori sighed. "It's not safe at home. It's not safe here. It's not safe to worship. It's not safe to speak up. It's not safe to be quiet."
"Everything I do is to protect you," Skyler said sternly. "You know that."
"Yes, Uncle. But that doesn't make it fair."
"'Fair' is for the dead, Kori."
"Kamari stayed."
"Kamari made a choice." Skyler placed a heavy hand on Kori's shoulder. "And that choice had consequences you cannot begin to understand."
"When you're older,' yes?" She asked.
Skyler nodded. "When you're older. For today, enjoy school. Make friends. Be kind. I love you, Kori."
Kori bowed her head and returned his affectionate words. Then she started towards campus, muttering.
"When I am older... When I am older, I will go home again, and I'll find Kamari and Naru. I'll wear Mother's hijab and pray without hiding. I'll use my proper name and follow His word, and I will be safe. I will not straighten my hair, and I will not cover my markings. We will be together and happy in the land of my father and-."
"Hey! Kori!"
Kori smiled at the short boy calling to her and his dark-skinned companion.
"Greetings, Garfield! And- eh, Vince?" Kori tilted her head in confusion.
"It's Victor," he said, holding out his hand. "We weren't really introduced, so no worries."
Kori ignored the hand and instead curtsied slightly. "A pleasure, Victor, to be formerly… met."
"Formally acquainted," Victor corrected gently, unphased by the rejection. "It really is. How are the states treating you?"
"Wonderful," she lied. "I am learning all about your school customs, like American football and the coming of home. There is a dance, yes?"
"Homecoming dance? Yeah!" Garfield grinned widely at Kori. "Planning to go?"
"Mm, I am not a dancer. I do not know yet. It is the custom, yes?"
"Totally. I'd be happy to take you," he offered.
Kori smiled softly. "I will be happy to come, then."
Garfield beamed at her, then his demeanor suddenly fell. "Oh, joy. Dick is here."
"Seriously, knock it off, Gar," Victor warned. "Hey, Robin!"
Kori waved as the raven boy approached.
"Hey, Victor! Hi, Kori. Garfield," he said coldly.
"Dick."
Kori noted the way his eyes narrowed at the name. "Good morning, Robin," she said, deciding to use the name he clearly preferred. "We were just talking about the coming of home celebration. Will you be going?"
Robin hesitated. "I, uh, I don't really dance. Besides, I have to study."
"Man," Victor said, "your -something- must have a stick up his butt. Do you lose your -something- if you aren't -something-?"
"I just don't want to let him down," replied Robin.
"Mm, sorry, what is," Kori tried to replicate the word, "'valid accordion?'"
"Valedictorian," Robin said slowly. "It means the best in the class."
"The best at what?"
Victor waved his hand. "You know. The kid with the highest grades gets special honors. Just because."
"And this honor, the valedictorian," Kori reasoned, "it means a great deal to you, Robin?" He nodded. "Why?"
"Because he's a nerd," Garfield said.
"Because it means I can pay my -something- back in the future. My education is an -something- for him."
"In-vest-ment?" Kori repeated.
Victor scoffed. "It's when you do something with the goal of getting something else back. For real, though, Rob, your -something- sounds like a jerk. It's high school, not the army."
"He took a chance by -something- me. Not a lot of people-."
Kori cut him off. "I would feel terrible if I let Uncle down. Even if he never said so."
The boys stared at her. Kori locked eyes with Robin.
"I do not believe your… sponsor? Is trying to pressure you. I-"
"He does, though," Robin said, checking his phone. "Not to be a nerd or anything, but we need to go. It's almost time for first bell."
Robin quickly stomped away and towards the school. Victor apologized, following him as quickly as his chair could manage. Kori sighed.
"I also do not believe," she said to Garfield, "that he likes for you to call him Dick."
"So?"
"It is not nice."
With that, she left a gobsmacked Garfield and headed inside as well. After gathering her first-hour books from her locker, Kori decided to stop quickly at the bathroom. She was almost to the door when the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the day. She bit her lip, sighed, resigned herself to a tardy slip, and entered the room.
Immediately, she froze. The same pale girl from yesterday stared back, makeup in hand, a red welt on her cheek still stark behind a thin layer of powder.
"You're late for class," the brunette girl said, her voice even more raspy than the day before.
"And you are hurt," Kori retorted.
"I'm fine."
Kori's eyes scanned the goth. Her purple school shirt covered a long-sleeved black shirt with holes cut in for her thumbs. Black lace rested over a matching purple skirt and bright green leggings. A gold chain belt hugged her hips, no belt loops required, and heavy black boots completed her dark outfit.
It reminded her of Kamari.
"Let me help you," Kori offered.
"I don't need help."
"You cannot hide that with powder," Kori said. "Please. Let me help?"
The goth turned away and sniffled. Kori noticed her wipe one eye before turning back and holding out a makeup bag.
"Fine," she told Kori flatly.
Kori opened the bag and found some pale foundation. She hummed.
"Mm. You do not have a sponge, I see."
The goth only picked at her shirt hem, so Kori put the cream on her fingers. She gently brushed the foundation on, noting how her subject locked her jaw at her touch.
"My name is Kori," she said softly as she blended the paint into skin.
The goth either sighed or growled. "Rachel."
"I like it," said Kori.
"I hate it," Rachel said. "It's religious and weak."
Kori paused. "Mm. You are clearly not weak."
"I don't need your approval."
"Done. Rae, perhaps?"
Rachel examined her cheek in the mirror while Kori watched, confident she had hidden the mark. Rachel repeated the name as she studied herself.
"It's better. Thanks," said Rachel. "You should head to class."
"As should you," Kori replied as Rachel gathered her things.
Rachel scoffed and shook her head. "Let me think: study hall or smoke? I think I'll smoke."
She held up a red and white box to illustrate her point, pulled a cigarette from it, and retreated into a stall.
Oh, yes, Kori thought, grinning as she left the bathroom. Rachel was definitely just like Kamari.