Content warning: abuse, implicit assault, religious trauma. Read at your own risk.
"Thanks for the ride, Mom," Rachel said, giving her mother an awkward hug from the passenger seat.
"No worries. You need time off," she said as she returned the embrace. "Troy is too hard on you. Look at you… You look as old as I do."
"You just have a young face," grinned Rachel.
"You shouldn't lie to your mother, Sweetheart. Go. Enjoy your slumber party. I'll be back in the morning."
Rachel kissed her mother's pale cheek, then picked up her bag and left the car. She waved the entire walk up to Kori's door. Angela watched from the driver's seat until her daughter rang the bell and Kori popped out with a broad smile.
"You made it, Rae!" she squealed, throwing her arms around her. "We thought you would be kept home."
"Mom vouched for me. And Robin's little trick helped," Rachel chuckled.
Kori giggled. "We are fortunate, no?"
"Very," Rachel said, looking around. "Okay, Mom's gone."
"So secret," Kori said, failing to suppress more bubbly laughter as she ushered Rachel inside. "My parents would be mad, too, if they could see me today."
"How so?"
Kori bit her lip and led Rachel upstairs. "Uncle will arrive soon to drive us. I wished to tell everyone together, but… you are my bestie, Rae, yes?"
"Uh, yeah, totally," Rachel said as a heat swelled in her face. Please be gay, please be gay…
"As I did research on Victor and how he loves, I read a great deal many aspects on the LGBTQ, and… I realized something."
Rachel nodded. Holy shit, she's gay.
"I am not a girl."
What?
"You're… not?"
"Mmm-mm."
"So, what, you're a boy?" Rachel forced herself to ask.
"No, not a boy," Kori said, scratching her neck. "I feel like a something else. They call it 'agender.' That is what I am."
"Oh. C-cool."
"You are upset."
"No! Just- just confused."
"We are still friends, then?"
Rachel sighed. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course!"
"You were oblivious when Gar hit on you. Is that… Do you like boys?"
Kori smiled sadly. "I do. But you like girls, do you not?"
"I think I like you," muttered Rachel.
Kori hesitated, then gripped Rachel's hands tightly.
"You will find one who likes you, too. It is not me, and I am sorry for that. It is in Allah's hands, Rae," she said quietly. "But, since you told me, I will tell you who I like."
"Oh, no, did Gar wear you down?" Rachel joked.
"Mm! Robin!
Rachel chuckled. "He does have a cute falsetto."
"A what?"
"When he pretended to be a girl. He sounded cute."
"Oh, yes! And adorable hiccups!"
Again, Rachel let a laugh escape. "He's a little nerdy for me, but you go for it."
Kori beamed and began tightly rolling clothes to pack into what looked like an oversized purse. "What do you look for? Maybe I can help."
Rachel sat on the bed and thought.
"I don't know. Maybe… someone who likes reading. Geeky-type reading, not nerdy. Less smart and more cultured. And not fake. I hate fake. So maybe someone who's a bit cynical but willing to take a risk. And no cults."
"Cult?" asked Kori.
"A cult is, like," Rachel said, "when a lifestyle becomes less about helping people than about controlling them."
Kori stared vacantly at the wall and nodded. "I know those people."
"Me too."
"The person you look for, it seems, is the person you want to be," said Kori, returning to her packing.
"Heh. You're not actually wrong. Woah, how do you fit that much in such a little bag?"
Kori picked up her bag and smiled. "I learned how to pack quickly."
"Because of asylum?" asked Rachel, and Kori nodded.
"We had hours to get on the plane. I needed to fit my whole life in two bags," she explained. She perked up at the sound of a door. "Uncle is here. Come!"
Kori grabbed Rachel's hand and pulled her back downstairs. After a brief introduction, the large man waved them to the car and drove to Wayne Manor while the girls continued to talk.
"Did you bring your book?" asked Kori.
Rachel blushed and nodded. "I don't know why you want to see it."
"I liked your dress for the coming of home."
"It's not like I made it. I just changed some things."
"I want to see more dresses!"
Rachel pulled a book from her bag, and the duo flipped through the designs. Kori fawned over some of the more modest dresses and an embellished pantsuit.
"I want to wear that some day," she declared.
Rachel laughed and said, "You should teach Garfield how to make jokes. That was a good one."
"Rae," Kori said, a hand on either side of Rachel's face, forcing her to meet her eye, "I want to wear it."
Rachel sputtered a bit, unsure of how to respond, then nodded. Kori giddily clapped her hands. She was so much like a child, thought Rachel with a twinge of longing. Kori again grabbed her hands firmly, surprising her.
"I mean it," Kori said softly. "You should go to college for these. They are amazing, Rae."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
Rachel sighed and returned her sketchbook to her bag. "Reasons."
Kori pursed her lips and pointed to her forearm. "Reasons."
"Yeah. Reasons," Rachel said.
Mr. Anderson started talking to Kori in their native Arabic as he pulled up to the mansion. Kori turned to Rachel.
"Your mother is coming at ten, yes?" she asked, and Rachel nodded. "Uncle will get us here at eight-thirty, then."
She relayed the time to her guardian as Rachel climbed out and shuffled away. Her hand rummaged around her bag for her cigarettes as she looked for a good place to light one. She groaned as Kori called after her and chased her.
"Where are you going?"
"I need a minute," she shouted back. "I'll be right back."
Kori frowned but nodded. That was probably why she'd fallen for her, thought Rachel. She could be pushy, but, when it became an issue, Kori knew to back down. That, and she knew too much. Her accidental discoveries made it impossible to hide more personal secrets. Hell, her love of design was only revealed after Kori had asked, so easily, where she got her dress. She clearly got the hint when Rachel said she felt more like Bender than Allison as everyone insisted after last week's movie. There was more to her than her goth aesthetic, and way more to the characters as well. No, she was Bender: using callous language to feign toughness, pretending she wasn't running to anything that would ease the pain, mocking others on the outside while tearing herself down inside. Her hands trembled as she stuck a cigarette between her lips and fumbled to light it. She was a total Bender, and Kori was her Claire. But Claire wasn't interested. She had her eyes on Brian. Maybe she was teasing? Claire was such a tease…
No, Rachel decided, shaking her head. This wasn't a movie. To simplify herself down to a character on the screen was a disservice to herself, and a cruelty to others. She could accept this, she told herself as she pulled a drag. She was only sixteen. People come and go and change and grow… By the time they were all adults, this little club would be long gone, no doubt. She calmed as she smoked, eventually flicking her butt away and stomping on it.
"Titans forever," she grumbled half-heartedly before returning to the massive house behind her.
The next morning, Rachel waited for her mother on Kori's couch, sharing coffee with her friend.
"Good stuff," she breathed.
Kori nodded. "Uncle makes the best coffee."
Rachel checked the clock again. Ten-eighteen. This was so unlike her mother. Angela was always punctual. Father beat that into her.
Kori seemed to sense the unease and said, "I am certain she is fine."
Rachel started to nod when a horn cut her off. She sighed and half-smiled.
"There she is. Thanks for the drinks, Kori."
"It was a pleasure. See you Monday!"
Rachel grabbed her bag, waved to Kori, and shuffled out of the house. When she opened the car door, her stomach dropped.
"Hello, Father," she said quietly, sitting down.
A stern man, sharp in every sense of the word, nodded curtly. He pressed the gas before Rachel even had her seatbelt buckled.
"I thought Mother was picking me up," Rachel said.
Pastor Roth laughed sarcastically. "Plans change all the time. I needed to go to the church, and you were on the way. We'll go home once I've finished there."
Oh, joy, thought Rachel, he's going to force me to endure a sermon. Still, guilt trumped a heavy hand any day. While not immune, she could fake the level of pain he wanted when he simply scolded her. What would be the subject today? The danger of non-church companions? How sleepovers cause lesbians? She almost laughed at that one, but stifled it. She wasn't gay, anyway; boys were cute sometimes, too.
A jolt pulled her from her thoughts as the pastor parked the car and turned it off.
"Wait in my office," he ordered. "I'll be right there."
Rachel nodded and obeyed, taking her bag with her. Better not to risk it, even if nothing in it could incriminate her. She brushed her jacket pocket to make sure the cigarettes were still hidden. She passed the main church quickly, slipped into the pastor's office, and sat on the couch. This was new. Usually, she was told to wait in the pews. She picked at her nails, stewing over the meaning behind this new command. When her father finally entered, his face was red and angry.
"What is this?" he asked, showing Rachel his phone.
Her chest tightened. Victor's Instagram was littered with selfies and pictures taken the night before. The gallery, "Hanging with my Besties," clearly showed the five of them eating popcorn and pizza and watching movies. Her father clicked a photo with her in it. Damn it, when did he learn how to use the internet?
"What is this?" he demanded again.
"A pizza party."
"What are you wearing?"
"Pajamas."
"Nothing. You're wearing nothing!"
Capris and a tank top was hardly nothing, she thought with a scowl. Her scars were covered. The top had a high neck, no cleavage showing. God forbid visible shoulders.
"They're my friends, Dad. They didn't-."
"Friends? They're degenerates! Do you really think you can dress like that around boys?"
"They're pajamas. Everyone in those pictures is wearing pajamas. I wear that at home every night."
"Then I have been too lenient!" screamed the pastor. He flicked through the photos and shook his head. "These are the people you want to associate with? A bunch of thugs and- and a terrorist?"
He again pointed the phone at her to show Kori waving at the camera. Her hair peeked out from beneath her hijab as she held a popcorn bowl.
"She's not a terrorist, Dad."
"She will corrupt your mind against God."
"We don't even talk about religion."
"Well, you should! You should be screaming your devotion across the school," he shouted. "Instead, you're hanging around scantily clad boys and a witch. Is this how you want to be treated?"
Rachel's blood ran cold. The sudden realization that her father had isolated her made her nauseous. Every fiber of her being told her to run, and she obeyed.
Pastor Roth caught her with barely any effort and slammed her back onto the couch, growling.
"Because if you're going to act like a whore, I'll treat you like one."