7 – Doubt Creeps About Like a Pantomime Thief

A lot of things go on in Trixie's mind. More things than she would rather, to be perfectly honest.

Take, for example, the concept of a handshake. It's nothing more, nothing less, where both the participants look each other in the eye with a level of openness that is rather unusual for the both of them. Then, neither of them lets go.

What does that mean? Trixie has generally been quite satisfied with her level of social intelligence, and has been able to analyse many situations with relative ease. This single handshake however, has made her pause. How can one girl throw off years of practised routine with a mere smile?

She's refused to consider the idea of romantic interest. She wasn't asexual like Newton, and she has gone to some lengths in the past to prove that to nonbelieving onlookers.

However, though it may appear otherwise, Trixie had experienced sexual attraction before, (not that she would be willing to admit that), and enough so that she could conclude she only liked girls. This had taken some time to work out, and many hours had been spent with Newton, venting her confusions in an attempt to analyse them. She had also, in a manner quite unlike her, taken to discrete rule-breaking to distract herself from it. This inevitably led to her and Zero sneaking a bottle of vodka into the girls' dormitory when they were fourteen, and downing most of it between them rather quickly. Then, while stupidly drunk, and for reasons unbeknownst to either of them, they had wound up making out for a solid fifteen minutes (probably longer; her memory was pretty hazy on this) before passing out cold. That hangover hadn't been pretty, and with the two of them being stubborn as oxen, the incident hadn't been mentioned since. It had all been a bit of a moot point, really.

And now there's Elizabeth.

This hasn't been like every other time. It's nothing like where she follows her parents on tour during the Christmas holidays, meets beautiful women, and can simply think "Oh, she's cute", and that is all. Something stirred in her gut when she looked Elizabeth in the eye, and she didn't like it one bit.

She knew attraction. She knew what she liked, and what she didn't like, and the types of women who drew her eye.

Take, for example, Vanessa. While, yes, she was obviously a very attractive girl, she wasn't Trixie's type. She was far too vapid, lacked any personality whatsoever, and the fact that her breasts miraculously changed from a B cup to an F cup over one weekend was a bit of a turn-off.

Now, for a rather dramatic contrast, look at Zero. Until about two years ago, it was easy enough to conclude that these two were polar-opposite just by looking at them. Zero hid herself in oversized jackets and hoodies, kept her hair choppy and uneven, and wore so much eyeliner that 2007 would call and demand its style back. And, not to mention, it was generally Trixie's eyeliner that she stole to achieve that look in the first place. Over the years, however, Zero's intensive exercise regime combined with a few blessings from Mother Nature resulted in a very attractive figure. And this wasn't even bias on Trixie's part – Zero had been subjected to many crude comments, and blatant staring. Not to mention, she had some fantastic facial structure going on; pointed, angular face, arching eyebrows, soft, upturned nose - she was very attractive. Trixie herself had been stuck nursing a rather bitter crush the whole time they were fifteen, though that wasn't exactly a fact she wanted to broadcast.

But that wasn't relevant right now. What was relevant, was that Trixie was lying awake in the middle of the night, over-analysing a single interaction with a girl she barely knew, not to mention that particular action had happened –

Trixie checked the time on her phone. 12.36 AM.

Two days ago. That interaction had now officially happened two days ago, and she was still thinking about it.

She buried her face into her pillow, and let out the biggest, most long-suffering sigh she could muster.

Damn it.

'Wake up.'

Trixie strode into Zero's room, heading straight toward the curtains and throwing them wide open. To be fair, she had knocked (she wasn't completely uncivilised), but the lack of response had prompted her to barge in and make sure no one was dead. At the sudden influx of bright light, the mound of blankets that was presumably Zero let out a long-suffering groan, before her head appeared at one end.

'What do you want?'

'Good morning to you, too,' Trixie replied primly, heading to the wardrobe and pulling out a leather jacket, singlet top, and a skirt. 'You're really late, you know.' She laid the clothes out on Zero's desk chair.

'Nnnghhhhhh . . .'

'I won't ask where you went yesterday, since it's your business, but you're not oversleeping class.' She pulled open the top desk drawer and grabbed a little foil sheet of aspirin, checking the dates written on the back. 'You should probably take one of these.' She popped one and brought over a glass of water, before rousing Zero once more. 'Come on, you can't miss this.'

Zero finally sat up and rubbed her eyes. She was still wearing yesterday's makeup, and her hair was absolutely atrocious, sticking up in all directions. She squinted at the pill Trixie offered, before her eyebrows narrowed in suspicion. 'How did you know I'd need one?'

Trixie merely sighed, her face softening. 'I might not know everything going on in your life, but I'm not stupid.' She paused, before adding, 'That's Vin's job.'

Zero snorted, but didn't reject the pill, which only confirmed Trixie's suspicions.

She turned away and began absently cleaning up the horrendous mess that was strewn around, before adding, 'And you'll need to cover up those hickeys. Better not broadcast to everyone that you've been busy.'

She got exactly the response she expected. She heard a cough, a splutter, and then an indignant cry of: 'WHAT?'

'I did say I'm not stupid, Zero.' She picked up a discarded t-shirt and began folding it, before looking over her shoulder at the other girl. 'I'm not going to ask who with, just . . . be careful, alright?'

If it were possible, Zero seemed even paler before. She had that stunned, wide-eyed look that she only got when she was well and truly caught off guard, and sat up abruptly in bed, seeming to forget that she only ever slept in her underwear. The sheets fell around her waist, leaving her pale torso completely exposed.

'How do you know?' she whispered hoarsely, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 'How do you know?'

Trixie set the shirt down and turned to her, folding her arms. 'Well,' she started, determined not to stare at those glorious abs, sweet Jesus, 'To start with, you've been sneaking around one hell of a lot lately. You've also had a stupid number of hickeys – you really need to get a better concealer; I'll take you shopping soon – and you've been inclined to bite Vin's head off more than usual. I've drawn my own conclusions from that.'

Zero absently reached up to touch one of the aforementioned red marks on her collarbone, flushing violently. She then exhaled heavily, looking up at Trixie with something akin to worry in her eyes. 'Is it that obvious?'

'To the common eye, no. I, however, am a genius.' She cracked a weak attempt at a smile, before adding, 'And your hair is atrocious.'

If possible, Zero flushed a darker shade of red. 'I . . . can you -?'

'Help?' Trixie suggested. 'I would be an ass if I didn't – class is in ten minutes. Alright, come on, up you get . . .'

She helped Zero to her feet and indicated to the clothes she'd laid out, and brushed her hair into a Dutch braid while Zero hastily applied concealer to the red marks all up her neck. Trixie did her best to refrain from scolding; she could do that when they weren't running late. Then they were out the door, and in front of Mr Soper's classroom with a few minutes to spare.

'Where have you been?' Vin asked when they arrived. He and Newton had been leaning against the wall, engrossed in conversation. 'I was just about to call.'

'Someone wouldn't get out of bed,' Trixie replied, shooting Zero a look. Zero herself simply hunched into her jacket, stuffing her hands in the pockets and looking surly.

Vin watched her with an unreadable expression for a long moment. 'Are . . . are you okay?'

'I'm fine,' came the blunt reply.

He tilted his head a little, tentatively stepping forward. 'Zero?'

'Vin, just shut up. Please.'

Trixie exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose. 'She doesn't feel like talking, but it should probably happen,' she said, shooting Zero a furtive look.

'Don't bother. I'm not in the mood.'

She bristled. 'Excuse me, but we are your friends, and we'd like to help you.'

'Ugh.' Zero shot her a withering look. 'And why, pray tell, is that the case?'

'Quit being an asshole.'

'You are so fucking charming, Trixie. Goddamn debonair.'

'That's an awfully big word,' she replied icily, trying to hide the damage that comment dealt. 'Been reading a dictionary, have you?'

'Girls,' Vin cut in, reaching out to grab Trixie by the wrist, and Zero by the scruff of the collar. 'It's too early for this.

'Shut up, Vin,' they shot back in unison, sporting equally deadly glares.

'Don't tell me to shut up,' he replied indignantly. 'I swear, if you start -'

'We wouldn't have this problem if Zero would just tell us what's going on -'

'Well, it is her business -' Newton added.

'And I'm sick of cleaning up messes I know nothing about!'

'I never fucking made you help!' Zero growled. 'If you just minded your own business -'

'If you stopped disappearing without a decent explanation -'

'I told you, I had to go -' She reached up and tried to pry Vin's grip away, but he wouldn't budge.

'You could have told me, instead of leaving a half-assed message with Vin -'

'Don't drag me into this,' Vin objected.

'Why are you chewing me out now? Why not back in my bedroom?'

'The situation was different, then, and I didn't have time to get mad at you. Besides, you were vulnerable.'

'You little shit,' Zero hissed. She started forward; whether to swing a punch or grab her, Trixie wouldn't know. Vin, sensing obvious danger, caught her in a tight embrace from behind, his grip locking her arms at her sides. She growled and tried to shake him off, but Vin, having years of practise in this, and being considerably bigger than her, stood his ground. Newton, perhaps as a precautionary movement, grabbed Trixie's hand tightly and moved her to his side, even though she had no intention to fight.

Vin moved his face beside Zero's, tightening his grip on her as she struggled. 'Stop,' he murmured. 'Come on, stop, don't fight it, breathe, stop, stop, come on, breathe . . .'

Miraculously, it worked. Breathing heavily, Zero shot Trixie one final withering look, before her face slackened, a crease appearing between her eyebrows. She went limp in Vin's arms, letting out a shuddering exhale. It was then Trixie realised that her eyes were glossy, as though tears were threatening to spill over.

Realisation hit her like a punch in the gut. Zero never cried. Ever. Whatever had happened - it was really bad.

Though Trixie wasn't exactly guilty (Zero had been outright lying to them about a large number of things for about a year, now), she recognised the situation had to be dealt with. She wasn't completely insensitive.

'Vin,' she said quietly. He met her gaze carefully, and nodded in understanding when Trixie discretely nudged her head toward Zero. 'You know what to do.'

He loosened his grip on Zero, moving his hand so that it rested gently on her waist, and with whispered encouragement, coaxed her into moving. He looked back at Trixie and Newton.

'Go,' Newton said. 'We'll deal with Soper.'

Vin looked back at Zero briefly, who was staring into empty space, face gaunt and exhausted, before nodding again and finally leading her away, back to the main building.

The commotion hadn't gone unnoticed by the other students, however they regarded it with a fair nonchalance – Zero got into fights (both verbal and physical) far too often for it to be particularly gossip-worthy.

Trixie had a vague notion of being watched – she looked over to find herself meeting Burt's gaze. His expression was fairly neutral, but Trixie thought she could detect a slight sense of satisfaction. She wasn't quite sure why.

'I screwed up, Newton,' she murmured quietly.

'You don't say,' he replied shortly, releasing her hand. 'What was that about?'

'Something's going on with her. Something bad, and she won't tell me.'

He folded his arms. 'Well, she doesn't have to, you know.'

'No, you don't get it. I think it's a lot bigger than it seems. A lot.'

He didn't have a response to that.

They made it back to Vin's room before everything fell apart. Zero sat down on his bed, drew her knees up to her chest, and . . . was silent. Too silent.

And it was so much worse than if she had been screaming.

Vin left the lights off and drew the curtains, leaving the room cool and dark. Then he sat down beside her and kicked his shoes off, unsure whether he had permission to touch her or not. To be honest, he wasn't sure if he wanted to ask in the first place. But then she looked at him, and she was so, so miserable, that he caved in and took her hand, despite the fact that she would normally attempt to castrate him for it.

Surprisingly enough, she didn't hit him. Or kick him. Or brutally maim in any other way. Instead, she just sighed.

'Zero?' he began tentatively, even though he had no idea what he actually intended to say. She met his gaze and tightened her grip on his hand, as though she were afraid he'd let go.

As if.

And then he understood; he understood exactly what she was too afraid to ask – what she ordinarily refused to ask.

She just really needed a hug.

Vin wasn't one to refuse that. With a small, sad smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, he leant back in the squashy duvet, not letting go of her hand. He lifted his other arm in an invitation, never breaking her gaze.

Only if you want.

There was a second or two of silence, before she quietly lay down against him, tangling their feet and burying her face in his shoulder. She still didn't let go.

All was silent.

And Vin understood. She needed contact; physical touch. Sometimes she just needed a hand to hold, and never got it, because the walls she built around herself were too strong. She just needed something to chase away the loneliness; a sense of love, and Vin knew that.

He'd felt the same way his whole life.

10/12/2021