Cecilia and Sooraya: out for lunch

[x-dust.livejournal.com]

Sooraya and Cecilia go out for lunch after Sooraya gets back from Washington.

"But the thing is, I had just moved there." Cecilia rolled her eyes. "And nobody told me – I mean, I didn't realize that San Diego without a car is impossible, so I kind of... dated him for another week or two or three because he'd drive me to the store or to IKEA or the mall or, you know, a used car dealership. So, yeah, that's the full story."

She picked her cup of coffee off the table and glanced around before looking back at Sooraya, who she'd been sitting and chatting with for quite a few minutes now. "Probably shouldn't tell that story too loudly. Can't imagine how it makes me sound."

"I think some would call you practical." Sooraya commented distractedly. "Others would compare you with a female dog..." She frowned over Cecilia's shoulder. "Did he really have to turn that louder?" She muttered.

Suddenly realizing she had been talking with Cecilia, she turned back with a sheepish look on her face. "Sorry, I was distracted for a moment."

"No, that's okay. What's—" Cecilia scooted her chair back and turned toward the TV. Soon, her frown matched the one that had just been Sooraya's. "Oh." A news report flashed across the screen, but her eyes fixed on the lower third. "Islamic State attack kills dozens," she read aloud.

They watched for a few seconds, and Cecilia turned back to her companion, the frown a little deeper. She wasn't totally sure what to say. "That's... it's all really a shame."

"Let's not talk about it, okay? I don't want to ruin our coffee." Sooraya tried to smooth out her out our own frown, but was not having much success, especially when a customer near the counter asked to turn on the television louder. "Do they really have to?" She muttered in a low voice and attempted to catch the eye of a waitress.

It was times like this Cecilia wished she were Arthur or Jean or one of the other people who had the ability to do anything in situations like this. But she was no good in situations that required activity. "I'm sorry. I can't–" She waved her hand to flag down a waitress. "Jeez."

"Be prepared for the glare." Sooraya warned her, a dark glare in her eyes. "Either from her or one of the other customers... Ugh, I hate this..."

"Don't be ridiculous." Cecilia frowned, but as the waitress approached, her face slipped into a smile. "I'm so sorry, it's just – we're here to have coffee and conversation, which is ridiculously impossible with that," she gestured behind her, "blaring in the background. I'm all for current events, but what kind of atmosphere are you trying to create here?"

Sooraya did notice a quick glance in her direction, but she let out a small sigh of relief as the waitress said she'd see what she could do. When the waitress had gone, Sooraya sipped her coffee and quickly glanced around before lowering her voice. "It would have been really 'nice' if someone could have warned me about this." She gestured at the television. "This travesty..."  

"What, that people are assholes?" Cecilia shrugged. "That can't be helped."

"People being assholes is nothing new. That is more then being assholes. That is people being inhuman." Sooraya's eyes glittered. "And in the name of Allah. They are a thousandfold worse then Sayyid ever was."

"Oh, those people. I thought you meant..." Cecilia gestured around them. She didn't quite know who Sayyid was, but she was smart enough to use context clues. "Well. That's brutal and inconceivable and a perversion. And I can't imagine how it must feel to see that."

"I have had a few... encounters with people with at least a somewhat similar philosophy." Even if that had been in another world. "But none actually did something like this. Or any of the other things that had happened that had not happened before M-Day."

"Yeah. That." Cecilia pursed her lips and looked down at her coffee. "I don't know. It's weird what extremes people will go to, I guess." She leaned forward and her voice grew quieter. "Look at how people are reacting to us these days."

"We only have to look at history to see how far people might go." Sooraya had done the same, leaning forward and speaking softer. She had already caught a few glares as the TV volume had been reduced and she did not need the double number of glares. "Though it's a lot more frightening when it's actually turned at you then just reading about it."

Cecilia frowned and tilted her head ever-so-slightly. "Are you... have people been saying things to you?" Well, there was a laugh. As if being a woman of color was easy. As if being a mutant of color wasn't harder. And that was without people using your religion to justify slaughter.

"Here and there. A lot of glares, some remarks..." Sooraya sighed. "I think you know what I am talking about though. It's not even overtly threatening, but I still feel like I am walking around with a double target painted on my back."

"Uh, yeah." Cecilia chuckled. "I know exactly what you mean. It's kind of, like... It makes you tense."

"Can I ask you something?" At Cecilia's nod she paused for a moment, searching for words. "Does it... does it ever make you question things?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean." Cecilia lifted her mug to her lips, then put it back down. "What kind of things?" It's not like she could give up her race, gender or powers.

"How do I put it... do you sometimes wish you could... dissociate yourself?"  

"Oh." Cecilia blinked. "No. I mean, I can't say I haven't. High school. College. When I first got to the mansion. So I get it, I definitely get it. But I don't really feel that way so much anymore."

It was quiet as Cecilia traced the lip of the coffee cup with her finger, considering the question a bit more. "I think it's... that was hard. It took me a while to get to that point."

Sooraya tilted her head at her friend: "Do you feel... proud when you call yourself Puerto Rican? Maybe it's not quite the right term, but I don't know how else to put it..."

"Oh yeah, absolutely." Cecilia waved her off. "It's not the same, though. I can't give this up. My skin, my hair - that's me. And I grew up surrounded by that, you know? It wasn't - didn't feel all that different until I got to college or med school. And try being a black Latina aspiring surgeon with a secret, you know? Then you'll want everything to be normal. But I never wanted to give up on..." Her hand went to the wedding rings that she'd taken to wearing on a chain around her neck. "It took me a long time to love everything about myself, but I've never wanted to be..."

Sooraya considered her words for a few moments, before speaking slowly: "It's not that I want to give it up or not wanting to be something... It's just... I always felt... proud still isn't the right word. But now... often I just don't."

"Oh." Cecilia nodded, realizing that what she thought Sooraya meant was different than what she now realized Sooraya meant. "I don't think," she said carefully, "you should let other people have the power to take away something like that from you."

"Maybe they have already succeeded in some ways." Sooraya stated bleakly, lowering her eyes to the table sadly.

"Hey, listen." Cecilia reached out to take one of Sooraya's hands. "When I first found out I was..." she waved her other hand wildly and lowered her voice. "You know. When I first found that out, I thought it was the worst thing in the world. I tried to hide it. I was embarrassed and ashamed and... not proud. Never proud. And when I first moved to Westchester, and I was around everyone and everything, I still felt so... still, so, horrible. I couldn't wait to put that all behind me. And all the ugliness and the hate and the news sent me into this weird place, and it's all so awful to admit, but..."

She shrugged. "Now? What I am, who I am? I wouldn't give that up for anyone. And it's all – it's a journey, for sure. There are times when I want to renounce everything and completely leave this life behind, but they're little dips and valleys. Hurdles. This is who I am, and that is who you are and..." Cecilia paused and glanced down at her coffee cup, leaving the end of her thoughts to hang in the air.

"If you tell Amanda Sefton I said any of this," she cracked a smile after a few moments of silence, "I will never forgive you."

Sooraya listened quietly to her words, considering. "But I was... and I am not sure how to get that... back..." Sooraya was quiet for some time, fiddling with her head scarf. Then she visibly tried to shake of her gloom and her mouth quirked. "No promises about Amanda though..." She teased a little.

"Ugh, well." Cecilia rolled her eyes, her grin wider now. "She'll get to feel a little satisfied, which can't be a bad thing. But my point is," her face turned serious, "it comes and goes. Ebbs and flows. And you'll get it back once the dust settles after everything."

"I hope so. Because I know I do not like this." Sooraya accompanied her words with a glare over her shoulder at the TV, many layers implied in her statement.