Chapter 04 — I'm Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman
Eight-year-old Bruce Wayne sits on the swing set. It was a cold and rainy day in Gotham. The weather matched his mood perfectly. He had retreated outside to escape the sad and pitying looks from the adults within Wayne Manor. He looks up upon hearing the soft footsteps. Zoey York climbs onto the empty swing beside him. He had heard about Zoey not talking since the car accident that killed her parents. A silence settles over them.
"Do…do you get to stay here," Zoey softly questions. Her voice was raspy.
Bruce stares at her. "I thought you couldn't talk anymore."
Zoey lets out an annoyed breath. "I can talk. I just choose not to."
"Why?"
Zoey shrugs. "So people leave me alone."
"Everyone thinks you're a weirdo," Bruce tells her. Zoey sighs and jumps down from the swing. She walks away, leaving Bruce alone on the swing set.
The holidays had been relatively normal for the Kent household. Zoey sighs as she walks down the Kent driveway. She had zero desire to do the project that had been assigned in her business class that morning. The project was to research a well-known corporation. Companies were randomly assigned. Zoey had been annoyed to be assigned Wayne Enterprises. The last thing she wanted to do was spend any time researching Wayne Enterprises.
"Sweetheart is everything okay," Martha questions when Zoey walks into the house.
"Zoey's upset that she didn't get CRC to research in business class," Clark answers.
Zoey shoots him an annoyed look. "I'm not upset that I didn't get CRC. I just don't like the company I got and would rather have a different one. But Mr. Wilson wouldn't let me switch."
"Zoey, I'm sure you'll do a fine job with the company you were assigned," Martha comforts. She holds up a thick black envelope. "This arrived for you today."
Zoey takes the envelope. Her name and the address were written in a silver cursive script. She turns over the envelope and sighs seeing the return address was somewhere in Gotham. She had a good idea what this particular envelope contained. Reluctantly, Zoey opens the envelope and her guess is confirmed.
Zoey Stella Carmichael York
is cordially invited to the 50th Annual Wayne Foundation Gala
February 16, 2002
Wayne Manor
Gotham, New Jersey
Please respond no later than January 29, 2002
Zoey turns over the invitation and finds an unfamiliar scrawl in pencil. I'd like for you to come - B
Clark grins. "You should go, Zoey. Maybe you can meet Bruce Wayne and interview him for your paper."
Zoey shoots Clark an annoyed look. "I highly doubt Bruce would help me." She bites her lip before turning to Martha. "Can I go?"
Martha sighs. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint her goddaughter. "Zoey, we can't afford for you to go to Gotham for a weekend."
Zoey shifts. "What…what if I talked with Uncle Max and he took care of everything?"
"Jonathan and I would have to talk about it, but I don't see why not," Martha answers. Zoey brightly smiles and runs up the stairs.
"Do think Dad is going to agree," Clark questions.
"I hope so," Martha tells her son.
Zoey wrinkles her nose as she looks in the mirror. The tea-length, strapless black dress wasn't exactly what she had in mind. "Are you sure that I can't wear the lace one," she questions, motioning to the dress she had picked out.
"This one is boring," Max points out, coming to stand behind her. Max Carmichael was a tall and slender man, with short sandy brown hair. He places his hands on Zoey's shoulders. "It's perfect for the Gala. Don't worry, we'll get the other one too. So, are you going to tell me why Bruce invited you? Last time I checked neither of you liked each other."
Zoey shrugs. "No idea."
Zoey looks around to make sure no one was paying any attention to the catering truck. Max always had an open bar at the annual Carmichael Fourth of July party. She didn't enjoy the party. She hadn't since her parents died. Too many people kept comparing her to her parents or saying how proud they would be of her. She hated it. Zoey takes another glance around her before grabbing a bottle of Jim Beam out of the cardboard box. She quickly makes her way into the woods.
She knew the path to the original Carmichael family home like the back of her hand. It was an old cabin that had been built not long after her great-great-great grandfather, Elijah Carmichael, had started to garner some success with the first Rosewood hotel in Star City. Zoey learned about the cabin from her mother. Shannon had been the one to show Zoey where it was.
Zoey twists open the bottle and takes a swig of the amber liquid. The whiskey stung as it made its way down. She coughs. She raises the bottle of takes another swig. A twig snaps. Zoey turns to find Bruce Wayne. She hadn't been aware that he had been following her.
Zoey couldn't stand Bruce. Every year Max invited Bruce to the party. And every year, Bruce would decline the innovation. Until this year for some reason. Max had been thrilled. Zoey had been dismayed. Max had purposely sat Zoey and Bruce next to each other. She didn't know why but Max had made it his mission to play matchmaker between Zoey and Bruce.
"Leave me alone," Zoey tells him.
Bruce ignores her, moving closer. The only reason he was at the party was to make Alfred stop nagging him. 'It is up to you to keep the relationship between the Waynes and Carmichaels alive. The relationship goes back one hundred and fifty years, Master Wayne,' the butler would constantly remind him. Bruce, on the other hand, didn't care. He thought Max was too pushy at times. And Zoey…well, he still thought she was the over-achieving weird who refused to speak to anyone for two years. Well, except for the one time at his parents' funeral.
"Look who's talking now," Bruce says, grabbing the bottle out of her hand. "And drinking."
Zoey glares. She reaches for the bottle, but he holds it out of her reach. "Give it back." He takes a swig before handing her the bottle. She grabs it and continues towards the cabin. Bruce follows her. He was curious to know where she was going.
Zoey picks up her pace. She didn't want him to know where she was going. Her foot catches on a tree branch. She starts to fall forward. Bruce quickly catches up to her. He grabs her arm and yanks her against his chest. She turns to face him, ready to tell him off. He doesn't miss the fact that her breasts are pressed against him. The short sundress she was wearing hugged in the right ways. She wasn't built like the girls he was used to.
Thunder erupts. Zoey moves back from him. She didn't want to let him know that she had enjoyed being pressed against him. That she had noticed how firm yet soft he felt. Rain pours down on them. Zoey grabs his hand. "Come on," she yells, then takes off in the direction of the cabin.
Bruce stands there for a moment before following her. By the time they reach the cabin, they're both soaked. Zoey opens the door and they step in. He looks around the cabin. While it had a rustic feel, the cabin was modern in furniture. A plaid couch was against one wall. Across from it was the fireplace. Zoey sets the bottle of Jim Beam on a coffee table before making her way to the fireplace.
"How long do you think it'll take before someone notices we're gone," Bruce questions, sitting down on the couch.
"It'll take Uncle Max until tomorrow afternoon," Zoey answers. She grabs the matches off the fireplace mantle and knees. Bruce watches as she strikes a match and carefully lights the fireplace. She had intended to come out here alone. There was a small cooler in the corner along with a backpack. "How long do you think it'll take Alfred?"
"Tomorrow morning," Bruce tells her. "That's if I don't show up for breakfast." Zoey sits down on the couch and takes a swig of the bourbon. She holds out the bottle to him. He grabs it and takes a swig. "Alfred is having dinner with an old friend."
Zoey shifts. "Well, uh, I guess we are hiding out here until the rain lets up."
A silence settles over them, each wondering how they were gonna pass the time.
Zoey looks out the window as the SUV drives through Gotham. It was a far cry from Smallville. And it wasn't anything like Star City. Gotham was full of gleaming Art Deco buildings and glass skyscrapers. The tallest building in the city was the Wayne Enterprises building. It stood in the center of the financial district. The only symbol on the building was a giant 'W' at the top. It was a reminder to the citizens of Gotham of which family had built the city. Through to others, it was seen as a reminder that the upper echelons of Gotham society had destroyed the city. One didn't have to go far from the gleaming financial district to see the reality for many of Gotham's citizens. Crime, homelessness, drugs.
"The Wayne Foundation has dedicated itself to restoring the city of Gotham to its once-famous glory," Max says, reading the invitation to the annual Wayne Foundation gala. They were dressed in formal attire. Max was in a tailored suit with his sandy brown hair slicked back. Zoey wore the strapless, black tea dress she and Max had picked out. Her hair was pulled into a slick ponytail, a light layer of makeup accented her natural features, and a simple diamond necklace.
Zoey had never been to a gala before. "Does that mean they're going to start going after the people who caused the problems? Such as corporations, like Wayne Enterprises, not paying enough in taxes."
Max shoots her an unamused look. "I see someone has been watching the opinion news shows today. And don't let anyone hear you say anything like that."
"Why do you want me and Bruce to be together so badly?"
"Because the Waynes and Carmichaels go back a hundred and fifty years. We can't let it fall apart now."
Zoey leans back on the couch, laughing. The bottle of Jim Beam was nearly empty. They could still hear the rain beating against the roof of the cabin. Bruce sits down next to her, annoyed that she had him perform the chicken dance. "Your turn," he says. "Truth or dare?"
The two teens had started to play the game to pass the time. "Dare," Zoey answers.
Bruce smirks. "I dare you to kiss me." He knew that there was no way she would do it. She was too shy.
Zoey shifts on the couch to face him. She wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. She leans forward and presses her lips against his. She didn't care that it was her first kiss. She just wanted to prove that she didn't back down from any challenge. She starts to pull back, ready to taunt him.
Bruce places a hand on the back of her head. He didn't know why, but he didn't want the kiss to end. He enjoyed her company, though that was something he would never admit to anyone. Keeping his lips pressed against hers, he gently pushes her back onto the couch. Zoey shifts, trying to get comfortable. Her knee brushes his hip causing her dress to ride up, exposing the pale skin of her thigh.
Bruce pulls back and looks down at her. "Is this okay," he questions.
"Yes," Zoey breathlessly answers. Her heart was racing. He leans down, pressing his lips against hers once more. His hand runs over her thigh, pushing the bottom of her dress up further. She rests her hands on his biceps. His hand brushes over the white lace panties she was wearing. Her breath hitches.
Bruce trails his lips across her cheek. His hand continues brushing against her. "Zoey—"
"Don't stop," Zoey interrupts. She knew exactly where this was headed. She didn't know if it was the bourbon or something else, but she wanted to experience what she had read in the various romance novels she enjoyed. She wanted to feel desired.
Bruce suddenly sits up. Part of him wanted to continue. He was ready. She was ready and willing. Yet, there was a part of him that didn't feel right about it. "We can't do this," he mutters, standing up. He adjusts his pants, hoping to relieve some of the tension he was feeling.
Zoey blinks. She sits up, shoving her dress back down. "Oh." She looks around the cabin; trying to find something to distract her from the rejection she was feeling.
"Don't get me wrong. I want to. It just…it doesn't feel right."
Zoey looks at him. She glances at the empty Jim Beam bottle. She stands up and walks over to him. She wraps her arms around his neck. "Are you trying to be a knight in shining armor," she amusedly asks.
Bruce pulls her close; hands settling on her waist. "Like I said, it just doesn't feel right. At least right now."
Zoey looks up at him. "Right now? Are you saying you don't find me weird anymore?"
"Maybe."
Zoey sighs. The evening so far had been a wash. She hadn't seen Bruce since she and Max had arrived at the Wayne Foundation Gala which was taking place at the Gotham Museum of Arts. She was confused. Bruce had been the one who invited her yet he wasn't at the gala. She sits down on the bench and looks up at the painting of a garden filled with roses and lilies. She's so lost in her thoughts that she doesn't notice someone sitting beside her. A hand lightly brushes hers and she jumps.
"I didn't mean to startle you," Bruce apologizes.
It takes Zoey a moment to realize that he's wearing jeans and a sweater. He had no intention of going to the gala. "Why exactly did you invite me?"
"I wanted to see you."
Zoey lightly smiles. "You could've just asked."
Bruce shrugs. His thumb brushes the back of her hand. "This was less suspicious."
"Well, you did make Uncle Max very happy. I haven't seen him this happy in years."
"And what about you?"
"Happy. Confused. Annoyed."
Bruce raises an eyebrow. "Annoyed?"
"I've had to spend the past couple of hours listening to people tell me how far I've come and that my parents would be extremely proud of me. It gets very old very fast," Zoey tells him, then stands up. She starts to walk away from him, but he grabs her wrist.
"I know," Bruce tells her. He closes the gap between them. She could feel his breath on her face. She presses her lips against his. The kiss is slow and tentative. He pulls back. "Do you want to get out here?"
"I would love to get out of here," Zoey whispers.
Zoey yawns and stretches her arms out. The sun was shining through the window. The manicured lawns of Wayne Manor were nothing like the fields of the Kent farm. It's at that moment that Zoey feels the weight on her waist; the heat pressed against her back. After sneaking out of the gala, the two teens had been driven back to Wayne Manor by Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce's guardian and trusted butler. They had spent the night eating pizza and catching up on what had occurred in their lives since last summer. She made the decision not to mention what happened at homecoming.
Zoey rolls over and finds Bruce staring at her. He had given her an old t-shirt that stopped just above her knees. He had chosen to sleep in a pair of boxers. She remembered him climbing into the bed sometime during the night. "Were you watching me sleep," she amusedly asks voice husky with sleep.
Bruce remains silent. He had spent months trying to figure out what caused him to develop a sudden attraction to Zoey. He had dated a couple of girls at his school, hoping that it would help him figure things out. It didn't. He leans over and softly kisses her. She pulls him close. Her hands on his bare skin felt electrifying. The kiss deepens. His hands run over her legs. She rolls onto her back, pulling him with her. Bruce pulls back. He looks down at her. "We need to stop," he softly says; it was the last thing he wanted to do.
Zoey bites her lip. "What if I don't want to," she whispers.
"Are you sure?"
Zoey leans up and pulls him another kiss. Hands run over each other, exploring. Clothes wind up on the floor. She lets out a gasp when he swiftly enters her. She blinks back the tears. She heard that it would hurt the first time. His movements are fast and quick. He lets out a groan and falls onto her. Bruce lays there for a moment, then pulls out and lays on the bed next to her. A silence falls over them. Each of them was lost in their own thoughts.
Zoey clears her throat and sits up. She ignores the stinging pain shooting through her. "I, um, I need to get back to the hotel before Uncle Max sends out a search party."
"I'll get cleaned up," Bruce tells her. Zoey grabs his boxers off the floor and silently hands them to him.
~*~
Oliver lets out a groan. He had no idea who would even think about calling him so early on a Sunday morning. He glances over his shoulder and finds Tess still asleep. He sits up and runs a hand over his face before grabbing the cell phone. "Yeah," he tiredly greets.
"I didn't mean to wake you, Ollie," Zoey says. "I just…I didn't know who else to call."
Oliver straightens up. "Zo, is everything okay? Are you okay?"
"I don't know where Uncle Max is. His room is empty. But all his stuff is still here. I-I-I don't know where he is. I don't know how I'm supposed to get home, Ollie. I have this big test coming up in my environmental science class."
He frowns. "Max told me that you both were invited to Gotham for the Wayne Gala."
"Yes. And he's not here. He's missing. Oh my god, what if he was kidnapped or murdered or-or-or worse."
"Zo, take a deep breath," Oliver tells her, standing up. He pays no attention to the stirring redhead in the bed. "I'll take my jet and come pick you up. Everything will be okay."
"No, it won't," Zoey sobs. "Uncle Max might be dead or something. And I screwed up. Big time."
"Tell me what happened, and we'll fix it. Everything will be okay."
"I-I-I had sex with Bruce. We-we-we didn't use—"
"Zoey, when did this happen," Oliver interrupts.
"This morning," Zoey softly answers.
"I'll take care of this, Zo. Don't worry about it. Call whoever you need to and tell them the plane broke and that you'll be home tomorrow. Okay."
"Okay," Zoey softly says. Oliver hangs up the phone and grabs his jeans off the floor.
It's almost midnight when a knock comes on the hotel suite door. Zoey jumps up off the couch and runs over to her. Her heart had been racing all day. She hadn't managed to get ahold of Max all day. The only bright side of the day had been that Jonathan and Martha believed her when she told them the plane was broken. She looks through the peephole and lets out a relieved breath upon seeing Oliver.
Zoey yanks open the door and launches herself at him. Oliver's taken back but quickly rights himself. "It's okay, Zo," he tells her. He rubs a hand down her back. "Everything will be fine." He guides her into the suite and softly closes the door behind them. Oliver walks over to the mini fridge and grabs a bottle of water. He pulls out a small vanilla envelope as he walks back over to her. He holds it and the bottle of water out to her. "Take this. It's more effective the earlier you take it."
"What is it," Zoey asks, taking it from him. She opens it to find a white pill in it.
"Morning after pill," Oliver says. "You're going to take it. Then in a month, I'm going to visit you in Smallville, and we're going to make sure it worked."
Zoey puts the pill in her mouth and takes a huge gulp of water. "What happens if it doesn't work," she quietly questions.
"We'll cross that bridge if we have to," Oliver replies. He crosses his arms over his chest. "Did Bruce force—"
"No," Zoey interrupts. She shakes her head. "No. No. Bruce didn't force me or anything. I wanted to. I really wanted to. It's just…it was really…disappointing."
Oliver snorts. He pushes her towards the bedroom. "It was your first time. Of course, it was disappointing."
Zoey spins around in his grasp. "I bet your first time wasn't disappointing."
"I barely remember my first time, Zo. And that means it wasn't that good." He brushes her hair over her shoulder. "You're fifteen. You have plenty of time to have sex that's not disappointing."
The door to the suite opens, and they turn to see Max enter, wearing a pair of oversized floral board shorts and an equally oversized t-shirt with Caesar's logo on it. "Uncle Max, you're not dead," Zoey exclaims, running over to him. She tightly embraces him.
Max hugs her back, frowning. "Why would you think that I'm dead?" It's at that moment that he notices Oliver standing in the suite. "What are you doing here, Oliver?"
"I called him," Zoey answers. "You weren't here. And I thought you were kidnapped or murdered or worse—"
"What's worse than being murdered," Max interrupts.
"Where have you been, Max," Oliver questions.
Max shifts. He runs a hand across the back of his neck. "I, uh, I woke up in a hotel in Atlantic City. Tied to a bed. Naked."
Oliver raises an eyebrow. "That explains your clothes."
"Are you okay," Zoey asks, still worried.
Max shrugs. "I'm fine. Pride hurts. But I'm fine, Zoey."
Zoey turns to Oliver. "We should call the police."
"Zoey, I'm fine," Max snaps. He rubs his face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's been a long day. And I just want to sleep."
Silence falls over them as Max walks into his room and closes the door. "Ollie," Zoey softly begins. He looks at her and finds a concerned look on her face. "Can you…do you think you can talk to Uncle Max? Make sure that he's okay?"
Oliver lightly smiles at her. "Of course," he tells her. He guides her towards her room. "You need to get some sleep, Zo. We have an early flight in the morning to get you home."
Zoey hugs him. "Thank you, Ollie."
Oliver presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. "It's no problem, Zo."
I'm not a girl
Not yet a woman
All I need is time, a moment that is mine
While I'm in between
I'm not a girl