14 – Roots

'Oh my God, Dad, you can't just drop a bomb like that from out of nowhere!'

Newton belatedly realised he had begun absently flapping his spare hand again, and quickly reached out to pull Trixie to a stop where they had been walking down the hall, readjusting his phone in his other hand.

'No – metaphorical bomb. Look, whatever; you choose to tell me this now?'

Trixie exhaled heavily and straightened her bag strap, clearly impatient to get a move on. They had intended to find Zero and Vin – either one or the other, but both would be great – but Newton had been interrupted with a phone call right as they were leaving Macbeth's classroom.

And Macbeth, mind you, was livid – just like she always was when someone wasn't present. What really set her off though, was that she couldn't find either of them when she set out to search. And to top it off, Mr Soper was in a meeting with someone, so she couldn't go and complain to him about it either.

It was all a bit of a shit-show, to be honest. Newton's day had been hectic enough as it was, but to top it all off, now this was happening.

'So you're actually getting married? What about your work?'

'She understands how important my job is to me. I have to admit, she establishes a bit more of a balance – I'm back to eating three square meals a day. It really helps when someone is there to remind you.'

'Okay, first of all, it was your idea to send me to boarding school -'

'I know, I know, but that was because I knew I wouldn't be able to help you if I got too busy. You were too young back then. We've discussed this.'

Newton exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. 'Yeah, okay. But I haven't even met this woman yet, and you're telling me she's going to be my stepmom! Can you see why I'm a little stressed out by this?'

'Claudia's Europe trip was unavoidable, Newton. She really wishes she could have met you, but there will be time between now and Easter -'

'Easter's a bit soon, don't you think?'

'The sooner, the better, actually. We don't want to make a big fuss about it – just a small wedding. You can bring your friends, if you'd like.'

He leaned against the wall, dimly aware that Trixie was now aggressively texting on her phone, a rather tense look on her face.

'Look, don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you, Dad. I mean, you've been kinda lonely since Mom died, and it's a good thing that you've been able to move on. I just . . . I just need some time to process things, okay? School's a bit crazy at the moment, and -'

'It's alright, I understand. You work on keeping your grades up, and we'll talk about it later, okay?'

'I . . . yeah, alright. See you later.'

When he hung up, Trixie met his gaze. 'Everything alright?'

He waved her off. 'Don't worry about it. We should probably find Vin and Zero.'

She held up her phone. 'Already done. And . . .' She grimaced, before wordlessly handing over the phone, the message tab open to a conversation with Zero.

found vin, spoke to soper. not good

'Oh shit.'

'Yeah.'

'Wait, so . . . Soper? What does that even mean?'

'I don't know,' Trixie admitted. 'But we should go. Those two don't have a good history of being alone together with their problems.'

This was happening way too often to be healthy. Though, truth be told, it relieved her slightly that the situation wasn't hers this time.

Fully aware that if they went back to a bedroom she'd do something stupid, but also unsure of what other alternative was available, they went back to Zero's room to deal with this in a more private setting. Well, to be honest, she really just dumped him on her bed and chucked him a sheet of aspirin, which bounced off his head and disappeared down the side of the bed. Then, at a loss of what else to do, she started doing some pull-ups in the vain hope that it would quell the anxious energy buzzing through her.

Thirty reps later, that really wasn't the case. Vin, though seeming to be watching her, was rather staring blankly in her general direction through red-rimmed eyes. It was clear his mind was in an awful place, a long way from where they were.

Whether that was a good or bad thing, she wasn't sure. Feelings weren't her kind of expertise.

She snorted at the thought. Obviously. "Feelings" were the reason she was a homeless, pregnant teenager with no money to boot. If her problems had been dealt with earlier, she could have saved herself at least half the trouble. Probably.

She gave up on the pull-ups and instead opted to hang upside down on the bar, finally meeting Vin's eyes. 'Trixie's coming,' she told him. 'She's better at this than I am. She'll be able to help.'

He gave a noncommittal grunt in response. Zero swayed from side to side uncomfortably, feeling no better now that blood was rushing to her head.

'Look,' she said after a moment. 'Vin -'

'Don't bother,' he mumbled, drawing his knees up to his chest. 'It's not – just – just leave it.'

That kind of stung, even though he had every right to shut her up right now. Damn it, despite how brash and disinterested she normally was about everyone else's problems, she really did want to help this time. If she could do anything -

There was a hurried knock on the door before Trixie poked her head in, looking worried. 'Are you alright? Vin?' She and Newton stepped in, before she quickly closed the door behind them. 'That was you with Soper? Are you in trouble?'

Vin shook his head sharply, rubbing at his red eyes with his fist. 'No, no, it's – it's not like that.' He drew in a shuddering breath, staring at his hands. 'Um, my parents, they – they aren't . . . they aren't . . . around, anymore.'

Trixie, who had automatically begun tidying up to steady her nerves, looked at him with wide eyes. 'Y-you mean -?'

'Yeah.'

Newton exhaled with a sharp breath, looking for all the world like someone had just run over his puppy. 'Shit Vin. I'm – God, I'm so sorry.'

'Um, how did you know, if you don't mind me asking?' Trixie said after a moment, setting down the pile of stray clothing she had already accumulated.

'Soper,' Zero supplied, swinging down from the bar and landing rather unsteadily on the ground. She let out a surprised grunt at the exertion it had taken, blinking stupidly for a moment before finishing what she had been saying. 'The orphanage. All them – they've been in cahoots or some shit.'

'All of them,' Trixie corrected automatically, before swallowing awkwardly and sitting down beside Vin. She took his hand and laced their fingers together, chewing her lip. 'I'm sorry, Vin. I wish I could do something.'

Vin winced slightly, but he was already leaning into Trixie's presence, resting his head on her shoulder. Zero supposed it was a more comfortable kind of dynamic he could deal with at the moment – the two of them had always been more like siblings than friends, even when they were little. Zero had never really understood it, but then again, she'd never expected to.

Newton glanced over at Zero, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

'So . . . where have you been?'

That was a bit of a subjective question, really. Did he mean when she initially fled and spent ten minutes heaving up bile in the bathroom, or when in a fit of absolute terror, thinking that maybe somehow this was all wrong – some godawful nightmare that was a fragment of her fucked up imagination – she slipped out of the school grounds and bolted five miles down the road into the depths of the city?

Subjective question indeed.

Well, the vomiting part was pretty self-explanatory. The second bit however . . .

It had occurred to her about a week ago that despite everything that had happened, she still hadn't taken the traditional "Piss-Stick Method of General Accuracy". Maybe – just maybe – if something told her that there was the slightest chance of this all being a mistake, then she could breathe again.

At least, that was what she told herself as she sprinted across the tarmac, dimly aware that she looked like a wild mess with her hair flying everywhere, jacket tied around her waist, and tripping over the flyaway laces of her combat boots. Just maybe . . .

But it all became a brutal reality when she slid a pregnancy test across the drugstore counter and the gum-chewing cashier on the other side evaluated her with a judgemental eye. She couldn't even bring herself to snap; her heart was thudding in her ears, and she was more concerned about finding a bathroom as soon as possible.

She didn't know what she had been expecting, really. That little stick told her just what everything else had, and that there was no going back. She was well and truly, without a doubt, knocked up.

As she sat outside on a bench, her gaze had drifted to the clinic across the road. For a fleeting second a thought crossed her mind – could she? She hadn't been able to forget what his voice sounded like when he had realised ('oh shit –') and she figured that walking through that door would save her a lot of trouble.

But, she supposed, it would also give her a lot of trouble.

She felt like she would be throwing something away. She had no idea how many times her mom had miscarried, but she knew it had been more than once – more than that one time she could recall. Somehow the thought of abandoning something so monumental that had happened by sheer accident – it made her nauseous.

So she got to her feet. She pulled on her jacket, pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and scuffed her boots against the pavement. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, still clutching that little stick.

And she turned away.

'Out,' she said finally, not meeting Newton's eyes. 'I went out.'

His eyes widened, seemingly jumping to conclusions. 'Did you go and -?'

'No,' she snapped immediately, hackles rising. 'I said that I wouldn't, remember?'

But she'd thought about it. She had thought about it a lot.

Hell, she almost did. If it weren't for her morals, it . . . it would be over by now. Everything would be . . . it would be gone, and -

'Zero?' Trixie said quietly, meeting her eyes with a look that knew she wasn't being entirely truthful.

She swallowed uncomfortably. 'Look,' she said, bunching her jacket sleeves in her hands. 'We don't need to talk about this now. Hell, Vin -'

'Vin doesn't want the world to stop for him,' Vin cut in roughly, lifting his head from Trixie's shoulder. 'Look, I'm dealing with it. But if you're all gonna walk on glass around me, I'm gonna damn well cut you out, got it? Besides, we've got more than one problem on our plate right now.' He sighed heavily, staring at his hands.

That made her feel stupidly like a deer in headlights, and just like that, the story started to slip out.

'I – I thought about it,' she whispered. 'I was there, downtown, and the place was right across the road – I could've just . . .' She trailed off, biting her tongue.

'But you didn't,' Trixie finished. 'You made your mind up, and you stuck to it. I think that says a lot, honey.'

'Don't call me that,' she muttered reflexively, but when she looked up, she saw a small smile tugging on the corner of Trixie's mouth.

'We'll figure this out,' Newton put forward, looking between them. He glanced at Vin, who was now picking at his fingernails. 'All of this, okay?'

'You should pursue motivational speaking,' Trixie quipped, smirking a little. He flipped her off, still trying to stress his point.

'I just hate the idea of you guys trying to deal with stuff alone. I mean, we're supposed to look after each other, right? It kinda scares me that . . . that we might be drifting apart.'

'Newton,' Zero said firmly, screwing up her forehead. 'We are not drifting.'

'Says the girl who hooked up with -'

'Not. Drifting.'

'You're such a hypocrite.'

'Don't make me fight you.'

'Zero, you are literally 5'4".'

'I'll still kick your ass.'

'Love you too.'

'Yeah, whatever.' Newton raised his eyebrows at her, and she couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her. 'Fine. You're not completely awful.'

'Such kind words.'

'You're tolerable. Barely.'

Newton held a hand up to his ear, now sporting the biggest, shit-eating grin he could muster. 'I'm sorry, what was that? "Newton, you're my favourite person and I love you too"? Was that what I heard?'

'Sei uno stronzo,' she muttered, rolling her eyes.

'You're really pushing your luck,' Trixie told Newton, grinning slightly. 'You know she's the definition of "emotional constipation", right?'

'I'll second that,' Vin mumbled.

'Fuck you very much,' Zero grumbled, while Newton barked out a laugh.

The mood sobered again after a moment, but it was a more comfortable kind of silence than it had been before. Trixie squeezed Vin's hand once before letting go, tilting her head in his direction.

'We'll give you a bit of space, yeah? Assuming you're feeling a bit better?'

Vin gave a one-shouldered shrug, not meeting her eyes. 'Yeah, I'll be fine. You guys – you guys can go, if you want.'

Newton seemed a little uneasy at that suggestion, but Zero was honest-to-God more than happy to get the hell out and not deal with all of these emotions anymore. 'Alright,' she said, hands on hips, 'then I'm going to get some pizza. Any orders?'

Trixie frowned at her disapprovingly. 'Zero, it's ten in the morning.'

'And where are you going to get that, anyway?' Newton added, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

'The joint down the road,' Zero replied simply. 'But if you don't want any it's not my problem.'

'I don't think that's a very good idea,' Trixie said. 'You've already skipped the morning lessons -'

'Trix, I don't think you quite understand. I want the biggest, unhealthiest meal I can get my hands on, and nothing's going to damn well stop that from happening.'

Trixie let out a long-suffering sigh, rolling her eyes. 'I guess there could be worse cravings,' she muttered reluctantly. 'Bring back something for me.'

'Trix.' Newton actually looked a little miffed, turning to her with wide eyes. 'You're condoning this?'

Trixie shrugged. 'Maybe if we cooperate now, no one will be forced to get her donuts in the middle of the night later down the track.'

Zero wrinkled her nose. 'Says who?'

'Says my intuition.'

'Oh, and you're an expert, are you?'

Trixie smirked knowingly, tilting her head slightly to the side. 'I like to think so.'

'Right, whatever. Anyway, I'm going.'

She made it to the door before Newton finally caved, calling after her, 'Make sure it's got pepperoni!'

Even given the circumstances, honesty had been one of the hardest things to abide by that day.

Though Zero had never really stopped to think about it, she certainly had more problems than the average twelve year old and it tended to show sometimes. Like now.

'Given what we're heading into . . .' Her fists were clenched tightly, and she barely dared to look Vin or Newton in the eye. It had been hard enough coming clean to Trixie about this, but somehow it felt so much worse now. She desperately wanted to run, to hide from the truth, but she knew she was stronger than that. She had to be.

(She had no idea that in two years' time things would be far worse, and she would have bigger secrets to hide.)

And so she pulled off her shirt.

They made strangled noises of horror – who wouldn't, really – and there was no avoiding it now. She could almost feel their eyes roaming over the awful, mutilated array of raised, white scars that decorated her upper back; some of which were simple cuts, and others that had been gouged chunks of flesh.

They had come from broken glass bottles, over the course of several years. When Zero had first left home, some scars had still been angry red welts that had just scabbed over. Others were so old she couldn't even remember getting them.

(Now there were also two cuts on her face, one through her eyebrow and another along her cheekbone, but that had been a different circumstance. She was fourteen then, desperately hoping her father had changed – that maybe things could be better. How wrong she had been.)

At first she had hidden the scars out of shame. Because, while she may have been independent and strong-willed, she truly believed that her father's wrath had been her fault. She had brought this upon herself, after all.

But that day, something changed. Vin had said, 'Zero, I'm so sorry,' and the simple thought that she wasn't the one to blame shifted something in her. Maybe she didn't have to hide from it, after all. Maybe.

So, over time, she learned not to care. Naturally people asked questions – girls would stare in the bathroom, and she had spent an awful hour in Soper's office desperately trying to convince him that she had gotten them in a freak accident, and that he didn't need to call social services. She wasn't sure she had entirely convinced him, but she had been adamant that no outsider get involved. This was her fault after all, and ultimately her problem to deal with.

Soper had, reluctantly, backed off, but he still kept an annoyingly close eye on her. If she so much as got a bump (which happened rather often as a product of her recklessness), she was evaluated and wrung out until she could just about cry with exhaustion, but she had come to expect it.

She had wondered, once, if this was what having a real father felt like. Having someone who gave enough of a damn about her well-being, who was kind yet honest, who actively tried to help her – but at the end of the day, instead of annoying her about boys and drinking and sneaking out, he collected her shitty homework and pressed her potential and tried his damned best to counsel her. So, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

There were worse alternatives, after all.

Trixie came back after dinner.

Honestly, Vin had been expecting her. It just wasn't "Trixie" to let things lie, especially when she wasn't through with them yet. And really, Vin didn't mind that much – it was Trixie.

'Hey, doll,' he mumbled when her head appeared in the door frame. 'What's up?'

She arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow. 'Shouldn't I be asking you that?'

He snorted half-heartedly. 'Touche.'

'Anyway -' She stepped inside, shutting the door with a quiet snap behind her. '- I figured if you wanted to . . . splurge, I guess . . . now would be the time.'

'Splurge?'

'For lack of better words.' She shrugged slightly, sitting down beside him on the bed. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, and he let out a quiet sigh, looping a hand around her waist and tugging her closer. After a moment, he let his head drop down atop hers.

'I s'pose you've got a point,' he admitted reluctantly.

'I just figured it would be easier if you were only talking to one person. I know you love the other guys, just – I thought it might be a bit . . .'

'Much,' Vin supplied.

She hummed in agreement.

It was quiet for a long moment, in which Vin tried to sort his jumbled thoughts into a marginally coherent sentence. Unsurprisingly enough, it wasn't working. 'It's kinda like . . .' He made a funny little gesture with his hands, as though that would somehow help the communication process. 'It's like I feel lost, or something. I'm not really sure.'

Trixie didn't reply, and he found himself grateful for that. It seemed a little less daunting if there was someone just to listen, and just like that, it all came out. Sure, it was rough and fragmented, and Vin honestly had no clue if she actually understood half of what he meant, but it also helped him sort out his own thoughts.

He told her how he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with himself now that he knew he had no hope of getting what he'd dreamed. He told her how he was also a little confused – why was he grieving for parents he never knew? For parents that had essentially abandoned him, duty be damned? Why did he feel lost now, when he had essentially been that way his entire life? It wasn't as though anything had really changed – he was still an orphan, and he was still following the same course as he had been before this whole mess – it wasn't as though he'd been thrown out into the street on his ass or anything. All that had changed was what he knew.

It just . . . it just wasn't really processing.

Trixie was quiet for a long moment when he finally trailed off, fingers idly tracing the wristband of his watch. When she spoke, her voice was soft, though a little shaky.

'I . . . I know it isn't exactly the same, Vin . . . but you know you've always had a family. Since coming here, I mean. You were thrown into a boarding school, completely alone, and you found yourself one. It doesn't matter whether it's by blood – you found us, and though we may not tell you much, we are incredibly grateful for that. And we love you, more than you can imagine.' She tipped her head to give him a tiny smile, her curls tickling his nose. 'And I know that my opinion isn't really important here, but I think it's the family you choose for yourself that matters the most.'

'Of course your opinion matters,' Vin mumbled, his mouth quirking up slightly in spite of himself. 'You're the smart one here.'

She snorted. 'Yeah, right. Not the point, Vin.'

'It kind of is. You're the one helping me, after all.'

'I dunno, is it working?'

He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes and leaning into her shoulder, feeling the comfort of her steady presence. She was right, really. He had chosen a family for himself; it might be small, and the foundations a bit rocky, but it was his. Trixie was like the sister he had never had – she called him out on his bullshit but still cared enough to help where she could. And Newton, for that matter, was like his brother. Meanwhile, Zero . . . well, that one was still up in the air. But he wasn't thinking about that right now.

'You know,' he said softly, 'I think it is.' He squeezed her hand as she let out a quiet laugh.

Maybe it was.

12/12/2021