Chapter Six: Blanketed by Lies
Her breath catches in her throat as she examines her notebook. All over it are pictures of Trixie; Trixie grinning while she maxes out Daddy's credit card, Trixie grooving to music, and a few greater than G-rated pictures she drew, of Trixie in the nude. Those are her favorites.
They are, incidentally, the only things keeping her sane. If she can focus on them and not the malevolence around her, maybe she can make it through the day. Maybe…or maybe gays will gain the right of civil unions in all fifty states.
"Look at what the lesbo's got!" One of them screams gleefully and snatches it from under her hands. Before she can say 'boo', they're hoisting it up and showing it to everyone while the teacher sits and does nothing. Did she mention lately that she hates Chemistry?
Face burning in embarrassment, she buries her head in her arms and waits for the cracks. When will they grow up? Why is it such a big deal? Lesbians come through their TVs nightly on cable, on the L Word, so why does she have to be such a spectacle? Or is because it's Trixie that she loves?
"Trixie Tang…" One of them moans behind her. "Oh, Trixie, Trixie…"
"SHUT UP!" Veronica roars, standing up and facing all of them. There is utter silence- no one expected her to say a word. All eyes are glued to her.
"How many of you can honestly say you didn't either fantasize about being with her or being her? C'mon, you gutless wannabes, speak up!" Darting over to the kid with her notebook, her prize notebook, she whacks him on the head before grabbing her books, stuffing them in her bag, and slamming the door on her way out.
Her hands tremble so badly, she has to pause before she takes ten steps away from the class. Chemical equations, where did they get her? In a class with a bunch of homophobes- who needed them?
"Rot in hell, bastards!" She screams, punching herself in the arm to refrain from crying.
"Like you, homosexual?" Someone hisses and throws a book at her. Now she really does leave, tears flowing down her face. It takes her a while to realize the note Trixie gave her, which she memorized, is missing. Not again…
She's having a serious case of déjà vu. She thinks she was in this agony before, in another time, another place. Her hands wrap around a warm mug of coffee, but it's constantly being chilled by the tears falling down her face.
Before she knows it, she can't control her crying and she's shaking with sobs. They wrack her body, fog her vision, and render her unable to move. They make her see red, red like Vicky's hair…
Hair she longs to strangle her with. For the hair belongs to the person she hates most, the person she appears to emulate. Nothing could be further from the truth, but, to the casual observer, it seems as though both push people aside. However, Tootie has a reason for it. If no one knows, no one else has to hurt.
Nothing hurts like this, like the stigma of being someone's bitch. She can't remember the last time she laughed, the last time she did anything except hold her tears in and pray for the end. With the end comes the release, the ceasing of her misery…with the end comes the realization Timmy will never be hers.
Trixie will hold onto him, even though she's gay. She will do it out of spite, because she hates Tootie. What does that loser deserve him for, probably what she thinks.
What does she deserve him for? She deserves nothing, nothing at all. She is a slave, and she won't forget it any time soon.
Whenever one of Vicky's cretins spills something for her to pick up, she's reminded of this. Whenever she has to give them a shower, she's reminded of this. Whenever she has to do the dishes and the trash when she's about ready to collapse, she remembers this.
She has no strength. She never had it…and Vicky is too powerful to be strong against. The only opponent she ever had was Timmy and now he doesn't care, so she's free to focus all her hatred on her.
Clenching her eyes shut, she pretends Timmy holds her. She finds herself doing this a lot lately, fantasizing about him holding her, kissing her…making love to her. It's the only thing that gives her sustenance.
A squirrel chatters above her; she's still in the park, only in a more secluded place. A.J. is nowhere to be seen and he will hopefully remain that way- she doesn't want him to see her cry like this. She's used to crying and people having a field day with it…she prays A.J. will not find her.
"Timmy…" Tootie whispers, clutching her coffee. She imagines him kissing her neck, trailing kisses down her body…
"Wrong, slave." Ricky stands before her and yanks her up roughly. His eyes glow with anger and he shoves her against the tree. Damn tracking device.
"Please…go away…" She murmurs, rubbing her eyes fiercely.
"You skipped school, slave. And bad slaves need to be punished." Now his eyes glitter dangerously and, before she knows it, the beating has begun again. She hardly has time to object and protect herself before he's tackling her to the ground and pounding her in the stomach, where he knows it won't be seen.
"Get up, maggot." Grabbing her by her hair, he hauls her off to his car.
"Time for a little more punishment."
Timmy jumps, startled. A bad feeling creeps along his neck and he glances around for the cause of it. Nothing seems too out of the ordinary right now, perhaps it's just him.
Wanda eyes him warily and opens her mouth, but he shuts her down before she can speak. He's not in the mood for another lecture- he has to find Trixie. If he doesn't find Trixie, someone might come after her.
"Sport…" She whispers urgently, "Timmy…there's something you need to hear…"
"Unless it's about Trixie, I don't give a damn," Timmy snaps back, angrily sweeping the halls. Frightened freshman dart back inside their classes. Good old senior privileges.
"It's about Tootie."
"Then I give a damn less than usual," Timmy retorts, pounding lockers. Wanda winces at the clamor.
"I think you need to talk to her."
"I think I need for her to die or just get out of my life!" She has to be down this hallway…he hopes.
Softly, Wanda, a pin on his backpack, replied, "She is out of your life, Timmy. She'll be out of your life even more when she's Vicky's slave while you're in college."
"Don't bullshit me, Wanda, I'm not in the mood for a guilt trip." Her hair flashes around and his heart skips beats. Trixie Tang…the girl of his dreams…
Swiftly, Wanda transforms into a chain on his bag and hits him in the leg. A fire rages in her eyes- insolent godchild.
"First off, do not curse in my presence. You should know better than that. Secondly, just because you're upset that Tootie mangled your girlfriend doesn't mean you shouldn't try to find out the underlying reason behind it!"
"Tootie wanted to hurt Trixie, end of story. Gimme a break, Wanda." As soon as he reaches her, she walks away. Great, now he has to stalk her. He looks like a loser.
"I think you've had far too many breaks," Wanda replies icily. "Too many from reality."
"Just fuck off, Wanda. I know what I'm doing." Before he knows it, he seizes the chain and crams it in his bag. But Wanda isn't there for long. Not even her godchildren are allowed to treat her like just an ornament.
Stung, she vanishes.
And Timmy and Trixie begin their little lie all over again.