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"I kissed a girl," Victoria blurts out into the deafening silence of the Santos/Whitaker apartment living room. They've all recovered enough from the previous night out to be sitting together on the couch, eating what could be considered a late lunch and watching some problematic early 2000's movie.
"Did you like it," Trinity asks with a burger in her hand and a smirk on her face.
"Trin," Dennis reprimands, shoving her a little. There's some joke there, something she's not quite catching on to, but, honestly, she's spiralling a little too much right now to care. Dennis turns to her with an almost knowing smile. "First time," he asks. She nods.
It had been her first time kissing a girl, first time kissing anyone if she's going to be really honest. Being a child prodigy in medicine does not leave time for classic teenage experiences. Victoria had barely had time to make friends without also worrying about who was the cutest boy in class, or well maybe it would've been girl. Her palms start to sweat.
"Spiralling," Dennis asks again. She nods again.
Trinity's looking between the both of them. Dennis seems to be in a sort of understanding with her, which would make sense considering his upbringing. He's probably had this spiral too. But Trinity's queer awakening had been different: apparently she'd been the kind to have just always known and gone along with it.
"Wait, seriously? Crash, I thought you knew?"
And that sends her further into spiral. "Knew what?!" She very much doesn't know anything, and that's a rough admission because she knows a lot. Child genius and everything.
"About the gay thing." Trinity looks between her and Dennis again, giving Dennis wide eyes. "I figured we just weren't bringing it up because then we'd have to talk about the whole Cassie thing."
"Trinity," Dennis reprimands. "Go…clean your closet or something. You are making this worse.
"What Cassie thing," she asks with a shaky breath. Is there a Cassie thing? Oh god what has she been doing? She puts her head into her hands and bends forward. She might throw up again.
"Okay, hey," Dennis moves closer to her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "You're good, Tori. You're safe."
"Is there a Cassie thing," she asks him desperately. She doesn't want there to be a Cassie thing.
"Well…I mean," he stutters over his words and she crumbles further into herself. "Hey, no, Tori. It's fine." He moves his hand up to her head, just above the crown and starts scratching. "Yes, there's a Cassie thing, but it's fine. I have a Robby thing. It's whatever."
The scratching is surprisingly relaxing. She turns her head to look at him. "You have a Robby thing? What is going on," she whispers to herself.
He blushes, smoothing his hand down the back of her head now. "It's-" He breathes. "Why don't we just deal with this one thing at a time. How're you feeling?"
She takes a second to reevaluate, checking in with herself. Her whole body doesn't feel so tightly wound anymore, her hands aren't shaking, and breathing is easier. "Better," she answers him, sitting back up. He moves his hand away and she immediately misses the comfort. "What we're you just doing," she asks, running a hand down the back of her hair to smooth the mess Dennis just made.
"Oh," he laughs softly. "That's what I used to do with the calves when they couldn't settle back home. It works surprisingly well on humans too. Don't tell Trin though. She doesn't like when I use my animal magic on her, her words not mine."
Which is about when she notices that Trinity's left, whether to go clean her closet or not, Victoria doesn't know, not that she cares much. Trinity's a good friend and the best worst influence, but she's astoundingly bad at comforting people in distress.
Getting back on track she asks, "I have a Cassie thing?"
Dennis winces, but tries hard to smooth out his features. It doesn't work, but his apparent care helps settle her heart a little more. She's never really had good friends before, just the few like-minded individuals she's met in passing while racing through her education, so Dennis and Trinity mean a lot to her—despite what everyone else says about the weirdness of their age gap.
"Why don't we put a pin in the Cassie thing. Let's get through the sexuality crisis first." She sees his eyes wander down the hall for a second, likely instinctively looking for Trinity before speaking. "Plus I think Trinity's probably the best person for the Cassie conversation seeing as I have my own issues with…that."
"She's just going to make fun of me," Victoria groans, putting her head in her hands again.
"Yeah probably," Dennis agrees making Victoria look up with wide eyes. Doesn't he know he's supposed to lie and say she won't to make Victoria feel better? "But," he starts, putting a hand up placatingly, "in between the jokes, she'll give you real, good advice. Trinity's good with the relationship stuff."
"Are you sure," she squints at him harshly, eyebrows drawing down. They've both been unintentional witnesses to Trinity's depressing 'casual' hook-ups with Garcia.
"Despite her current…situation," Dennis grimaces, "Trinity really does know exactly what to say about romance. She's just sort of got a blind spot with herself unfortunately."
"Right."
"I'll distract her with my own pitiful woes if she gets too mean?" Dennis offers.
"Deal," she answers immediately, both in hopes of him saving her from the majority of Trinity's sharp tongue and of hearing about the Robby thing.
"We have to deal with the sexuality crisis first though, Vic."
Groaning, she flops back into the couch. "I'd really rather not." She can already feel the breeze of her mother's furious pants on the back of her neck.
"We don't have to," he tells her in all his glorious midwestern farm-boy niceness, "but I get the feeling that you're just going to keep spiralling."
She groans again—the most consistent thing to come out of her today—and leans further back into the couch hoping it will swallow her whole. "It's not that I'm like against it or anything. Obviously," she gestures around the room to encapsulate the entire queerness of the Santos/Whitaker household. "I just…I guess I never thought it would be me."
Mother had insisted that grades and knowledge come first and love and boys come second. Not that Victoria would have the guts to care much about anything except school before PTMC. She'd never thought about romance before, other than the few crushes she'd convinced herself she had back in middle school to placate her kind-of-friends.
"I didn't think it could be me either." Dennis settles in closer to her, whether in attempt to comfort himself or her, she's not sure. "We were always aware that homosexuality was a thing, that it was a sin and disgusting. I used to pray every night to God in hopes that I wouldn't be one of the children he imbued with homosexuality. I was so scared.
"It took me too many years to work out that straight people don't pray to God in the hopes of turning out straight." Dennis grabs at where Victoria knows his cross is hidden underneath his sweater. "I never really accepted it until I got to med school, and by then I had repressed it so long that," he throws a quick smirk her way before leaning his head down on to hers, "when I was eventually dragged out to a bar, I got so drunk I just didn't care anymore and made-out with a guy."
"And I thought I was original," she teases.
"Oh, far from it, Babe." He knocks his knee against hers. "The gays have been pulling this move for decades. It's a classic."
She snorts lightly and feels a little better about herself. There's something in knowing you're not the only one to have gone through an experience. Everyone else got through it so she will too. "Did you panic too?"
"Big time," he sighs. "And I didn't really have friends, so it was mostly just me locked in the bathroom crying and praying and trying really hard not to throw up because I was so hungover."
"But you got through it?"
"I got through it." She can feel his head nodding against hers in tandem with his response. "I knew that I either had to keep repressing it or embrace myself and try and be happy. I figured it couldn't be any harder than being a broke and almost homeless med student, so it was an easy decision, especially when there was a chance for happiness."
It's a very simple way of thinking about it, but it makes sense for someone who was already independent from his parents. If she weren't dependent on her parents for almost everything right now then maybe it would have been that easy, but she's not and it's not. She has to fight with the fear of being thrown out or cut-off if they find out, which is pathetic because she's 21 and finishing up med school, so she should have herself figured out but she doesn't.
"Did your parents ever find out?"
"Not too long after, yeah." Dennis sighs and curls into her closer. "A picture was posted on some social media page or whatever and someone from my town found it and they told someone who told one of my brothers who told my parents."
"And?" she prompts him when he pauses a little too long for comfort.
"And," he elongates the words before huffing. "They called me, or well my mother did. Hadn't heard from them since I switched career paths when I was 19 and just after class one day I get a call from the one number I ever bothered to memorize. All she did was scream at me, threatened a lot of things she really couldn't do, but they scared me regardless.
"I think some part of me still held on to the hope that they'd be accepting, that they'd find a way to put their religion aside to love their child. After I hung up on my mother I didn't hear anything else, and I still haven't years later. I hated my brothers, but I still wanted them to be on my side, to be able to side eye each other when Mother and Father got too preach-y, but I guess my being queer was a step too far for any of them."
It resonates with her, the fact that approval and familial acceptance matters more than how much bullshit they've but you through. Her mother is not kind or generally supportive, but she's still her mother and if she's going to hate Victoria for being gay then it's going to hurt.
"I think my dad would be okay with it," she starts, voice a little shaky. "but my mother…" she trails off.
"Fear or hate?" Dennis asks.
"What?"
"My family hated homosexuality. There was no fear, of the community or the sin, they just hated it because the Bible told them to. But some people react poorly because of fear, either in fear of what their life will become or in fear of what your life will become."
It makes her think. Her own personal fear is that her mother will simply just hate her, deal out the punishments and be done with her. Statistically, most intolerance is borne from fear and there's a lot of fear for a mother of brown daughter. She's already at a disadvantage in life not being white and being born a woman, both things her mother has experienced, especially in the medical field, so adding another disadvantage to that is terrifying.
"Fear," she tells Dennis. "There's a lot about this that might scare her."
Dennis hums. "So if she finds out, if you choose to tell her, then you can at least go into it knowing that no matter how she reacts, she still loves you."
"Debating that will just open a whole new can of worms, so I'll just agree with you because I can't do that conversation hungover."
"She does love you, Tori," he holds his hand out for her to take. "That's just how mothers are. Which makes it all the more confusing when she does things that feel like she doesn't love you, but I feel like this might be a conversation for Samira."
"Right so, you for queerness, Trinity for romance, and Samira for mommy issues. What does that leave for Mel?" she shifts the conversation.
"Mel's good for the anxiety stuff. And video games actually. She helped Trin beat Elden Ring."
"I'll keep that in mind."
They sit in silence for a beat, just letting everything sink in, to let everything settle. She's not panicking anymore, heart steady and hangover headache making a comeback. It's nice to just be here with someone who cares.
"How do you feel about everything now?" Dennis breaks the silence.
"Good. Mostly," she amends. "I don't really feel any gayer, but I think most of my panic came from fear of my mother anyways."
"Trin and I can take you out to experiment if you'd like. Maybe Trin will let you experiment on her, who knows, but we'll be here for whatever you need." He pulls back to look her in the eyes. "Even if it means you moving in with us."
She huffs and closes the distance he's created, thumping her head hard into his chest. "How'd you know?"
"Number one queer fear, Baby," Trinity speaks from right behind them. They both jump, Victoria bashing her head into Dennis' chin.
"Holy fuck," she exclaims while Dennis rubs his chin, grumbling. "What is wrong with you?"
"Many a thing." Trinity jumps over the couch and lands beside Dennis, squishing into him to talk. "And maybe I'll experiment with you if I get drunk enough. You're totally free to live on the couch if you need it though."
"Thanks," Victoria deadpans, stretching her legs out over Dennis lap so her feet rest on Trinity's. "I think maybe we can just press play for now. I'd like to eat my cold burger and soggy fries without all the questioning."
"Fine," Trinity pouts. "I'll get the Cassie thing out of you eventually though. Or into you," she winks.
"Oh my god Trinity." Dennis throws a straw wrapper at her. "Just press play."