Work Text:
Jane always knew who she was from a young age. Well, less who she was and more who she had to be. She was a good girl, her mother always used to say.
“Why can’t you be more like your sister Fran?” Her mother would say to a younger Francesca, who was maybe 7 or 8 at the time, after forcing her into a stiff plain yellow dress before church on Sunday.
Jane, who was 12, would already be on the couch in her own Sunday best. Hair perfectly done with a small bow, her own blue dress ironed, shiny black patent Mary-Janes, white socks, and a gold cross necklace that was a gift from her abuela.
The window would be open and Jane would listen to the sounds of New York below their apartment. As soon as her mom could wrangle Fran downstairs, they were off to church.
Every Sunday, like clockwork. Every Sunday for as long as she could remember. Fran would always fidget and could never stay still and her mother would always scold her for it.
Jane had to be the example, she was the eldest, that’s what her mom always said. So that’s what Jane did. She stayed still and paid attention and was the perfect daughter her mother wanted her to be.
After church was reserved for gossiping. Kitty Facciano bragged about her eldest and all of her achievements. Jane stood next to her, basking in the pride in her mother’s voice.
Maybe it was around that time that Jane decided she never wanted to lose that. Never wanted her mother to talk about her like other mothers talked about their kids. Hushed voices, scandalized tones, harsh words.
It was around the time that Jane was 14 and starting freshman year that she started praying more. Not because she wanted to be closer to God, she wanted him to fix her.
With work piling up and her mother’s pressure growing, Jane was feeling the effects. Shaky hands when doing presentations, feeling like her heart is running a marathon when she’s just taking a test. Trembling fingers during church that Jane would fidget to get them to stop shaking and her mother would smack Jane on the wrist to stop her. On bad days, broken sobs hidden against her pillow as her lungs had forgotten how to work.
Something was wrong with her but she couldn’t tell her parents. She was their golden child. Besides, if she was good and followed the rules and prayed, everything would be fine. That’s what her mom would always say. Be the smart good Catholic girl and nothing will ever go wrong.
Then they moved to Rydell. They stopped going to church because the only Catholic church in Rydell was attended by all of the Spanish population and her mom didn’t want to give off the wrong idea to their white neighbors that they could be anything other than Italian.
Jane’s cross necklace was promptly locked in the bottom of her jewelry box and suddenly, it was like religion never touched the Facciano family. The same values still persisted. Be the perfect, straight A, and pure girl like she had always been.
Second semester sophomore year came and went and junior year started off with a bang. Any thought of the good girl she was supposed to be went out the window when Jane befriended three fellow outcasts of Rydell High.
It was worth the scolding she received from her mother. The Pink Ladies began and Jane was straying further and further from the girl her mom wanted her to be. Even as Jane became someone that people admire and respected, that respect never translated to home.
Offhanded comments as Jane comes home late from the Frosty Palace, judgemental glances when the Pink Ladies stay the night, the passive aggressiveness at the dinner table. Jane just learned to ignore it over time.
Around the time that Jane started getting closer to the Pink Ladies, her forgotten cross necklace was dug up from the bottom of her jewelry box and on her knees, her hands clasped together on her bed, Jane prayed.
Jane was 8 when she started hearing about being gay. From people at church, women talking about their children being sinners to her mom turning off the radio when it mentioned raids of clubs and bars.
Jane was always told it was wrong, she never really understood why but she didn’t argue. She always heard rumors at school about two girls being closer than just best friends. She didn’t get it but she knew better than to go against the norm.
Then she moved to Rydell and met Olivia and her world came crumbling. Olivia was everything Jane wasn’t. She was cool, confident, she didn’t care what people thought of her.
Over time, Olivia and Jane spent a lot of time together. At first, it was with the other Pink Ladies. Soon, it was just them together.
Giggling over ice cream sundaes at the Frosty Palace, notes passed in science class, quiet jokes made in the library during study sessions, sleepovers every weekend, both with and without the others.
Jane didn’t know when she started looking at Olivia differently. All she knew is that one day, she was just looking at Olivia as she and Cynthia were talking on the bleachers.
What she saw was as close to ethereal as the angels they described in church. The sun was hitting Olivia just right and it made her tan skin glow golden. She was laughing at something Cynthia had said and it sounded like something from the heavens. Olivia pulled out her compact to reapply her lipstick and smiled at Jane through her mirror.
That same feeling that Jane would get when Richie smiled at her, the fluttering in her stomach as her heart sped up, was increased tenfold as she looked at Olivia. One thought was in her head. How much she wanted to kiss Olivia and mess up that flawless lipstick.
Jane’s heart had stopped and dropped like a stone in the water. She wasn’t supposed to look at Olivia like that. She wasn’t supposed to look at any girl like that. Why was she looking at Olivia like that?
Jane could feel her breath pick up as panic flooded her system. Her hands started shaking as a sharp pitch started ringing in her ears. Jane had excused herself and all but ran to the bathroom, locking herself in a stall.
Biting down on her fist as she tried to calm herself down and take deep breaths. Deep breaths were hard when accompanied by hiccuping sobs. All Jane could think about is what she did wrong.
She did everything she was supposed to. She was the example, she was class president, on honor roll, and did good by the people who trusted her. Why would God make her something that he would hate, something that her family would despise if they ever found out?
Alone in that stall, Jane realized that she would never get her mother talking about all of her achievements with all the pride in the world in her voice. No, her mom would be the one whispering in harsh tones about her sinner of a daughter.
Jane didn’t avoid Olivia after that. She couldn’t. Olivia had become a part of her that she refused to lose, no matter what. The feelings never went away. If anything, they only got stronger with every passing day.
For Jane, it meant lots of sleepless nights, hiding sobs as she begged and begged God to just make her normal. Her mother and everyone around her would always tell her that God would always help her but it felt like God was condemning her to a lifetime of fear.
After countless nights like that, a tearful coming out with Cynthia and Nancy, and finally telling Olivia how she felt, they were together. Jane had a girlfriend, words she never thought she would ever say.
Nothing much changed. Nancy would let them stay after closing to have dates so giggling over ice cream sundaes was still the same, just with added flirting, footsie under the table, and hand holding. They were still Jane and Olivia, just with some added benefits.
The Faccianos love hosting. It’s more that Kitty loves hosting and the others go along with the matriarch. Fran, now Frenchy as Jane called her when not in front of their mother, was forced into another stiff yellow dress.
This time, it was Jane making her stay still as she fixed Frenchy’s hair. It was Jane reminding Frenchy not to insult anyone’s cooking and to be quiet. It went against everything Jane stands for but she wasn’t in the mood for her mother scolding her for not controlling her sister.
Jane sat next to her mother as they talked to some of the other women from their neighborhood. Like most conversations in Rydell, the topic was switched to gossip.
“Did you hear? This family at the church found out their son was a homosexual.” One of them said, her voice lowering at the end. “Oh my, that poor family, what happened?” Kitty asked, her hand over her pearls, scandalized.
“They kicked him right out obviously. Serves him right for ruining their reputation.” The woman took a sip of her drink.
“Of course. You have to protect yourself in this world. You can’t have a stain like that tarnishing the family name. I would do the exact same.” Kitty told them.
Jane felt her heart stop for a second. The conversation has shifted to another topic but it didn’t register to Jane. All Jane could hear was her heart start up again and beat loudly in her ears. She forced herself to take deep breaths to not draw attention to herself.
She knew her mother would never accept her but Jane never thought her mother would kick her out if she found out. The thought of her mom abandoning her and being a stain on her family’s reputation pierced Jane’s heart.
The party soon ended after that and both Jane and Frenchy were both sent to bed as their parents retreated to their room. Jane waited until the lights were turned off to make her escape.
She grabbed a coat and snuck out by her window. Her body was on autopilot as she willed herself out of a breakdown in the middle of the dead street. Jane’s body was still on autopilot as she did the familiar climb up the side of the Valdovinos house and knocked at Olivia’s window.
Olivia, who was still up reading, was immediately concerned when Jane knocked at her window this late on a Saturday. She was in a blue dress that didn’t look the most comfortable when climbing the tree outside of Olivia’s window.
Jane didn’t know what broke her. Maybe it was how Olivia quickly ushered her into her room or how she asked what was wrong without Jane needing to say a word because Olivia knew her so well or the look in her eyes as she led Jane to sit on her bed.
Like a dam breaking, Jane crumbled. Desperate sobs erupted from her mouth as Olivia held her in her arms. Jane latched onto Olivia like a lifeline as she tried to get a solid deep breath in. Olivia was her lifeline, keeping her afloat in the raging water that was her mind.
Tears stained the top of Jane’s dress and Olivia’s nightgown as Olivia ran her fingers through Jane’s hair, letting Jane get the heartache out of her system. Jane stopped crying soon after. Not because the hurt and the pain was out of her, she simply couldn’t cry anymore.
“What happened mi sol?” Olivia asked after the deafening silence became too much. “My mom.” Jane muttered, already fidgeting with the hem of her dress. Olivia noticed this and took Jane’s hands into her own, tracing the lines in her palms.
“What did she say?” Olivia asked softly as Jane rested her head against her shoulder. “She said if either of her girls were homosexuals, she’d kick them out because they would be stains on the family name.” Jane’s voice shook as she leaned closer to Olivia.
“Oh Janey.” Olivia kissed the top of Jane’s head. “I know she can be a lot but she’s my mom, I don’t want her to hate me, I don’t want to be a stain, I just want her to love me for me, not the version she wants me to be.” Jane said, her word tumbling on into another as she found the well-needed comfort from just being in her girlfriend’s presence.
Olivia always thought she had a way with words. Words she picked up from years and years of reading books instead of playing with the other girls in her class. But when she needed them, any words to bring some comfort and hope back into her girlfriend’s eyes, she couldn’t find them.
There were no words that could make this better. No words could change how Kitty Facciano or the rest of the world saw them. No words would stop her from kicking her own daughter out because of who she loved. There were no words that Olivia could say to make this better because there were none.
The two sat there on Olivia’s bed, the truth of the reality they lived in hung over them like a sword hanging by a thread, ready to kill. They couldn’t do anything about it. But they had each other and sometimes, that’s all they needed.