Author's Note: I feel as though this must be stated…but the feelings that Trixie and Veronica experience are not entirely fabricated. When I discovered I was bisexual last year, some of what I went through was similar to theirs. So, if it feels so real to you, it's probably because most of it is.
And thanks to all my reviewers! I really do appreciate the fact that people are reading…including BratChild2. Not to single her out, but I always admired her work.
Yeah, now you all hate me.
Disclaimer: Do I really have to? (sighs) I don't own it, okay? I never will…stop depressing me!
Chapter Seven: The Lies that Sustain Us
Trixie doesn't know what love is. She's heard that it's a 'many splendor thing', that love is 'like, wo', that 'you have to believe in the power of love', but, to her, it's all b.s. After all, she's never been in love.
She thought she was in like when she started dating Timmy, but then, later on, she discovered it was just his personality that she liked. Otherwise, nothing about him appealed to her. She wanted to say something, but by then, she realized he was her only ticket to heterosexuality.
By keeping him on, she maintains that she's straight. Not that she's a virgin, mind you, just that she's straight. And, in the sense of pleasure, she's still a virgin. She's never been excited.
She wonders where Veronica is. Rumors reached her of a scene in Chemistry, but she disregards them. She'll get the facts straight from the source…after school where no one will see her. After all, she can't risk it.
Timmy necked her in the hall before class. His hands roamed her back and she pretended to enjoy it…They really ought to give her an Academy award for best performance- she deserves it.
In their four years of being together (and the last three of being intimate), Trixie has never made the moves on Timmy. It is always him, as it always has been, chasing after her. Only this time, she allows him to catch her. If she acts as though she's ensnared, they won't question her.
Unlike Veronica, who never had a boyfriend, never showed any interest in one aside from Timmy, but she'd stopped that as of late. At least Veronica's being honest, albeit because she was forced to, but still, honest. What is she doing but deluding herself repeatedly?
Tapping her pencil against her binder, her eyes fall upon a drawing. Now, Trixie isn't much of an artist, but she can sketch fairly well subjects she's attached to. And she is very attached to this one…
It's taken from a picture of them, in bikinis, at the beach. Of course, she looks stellar, no question about that. But Veronica is a blonde goddess, her long hair dangling down to her waist. Trixie all but drools on the picture.
In the sketch, however, Veronica's top is off and her bottom is dangling, half tied. Every time she glances at her creation, she wants to ravage her, taste everything she can of her. Her heart pounds just thinking about it.
Shutting her eyes, she pretends it's that day again, only she does everything right this time. Timmy stays home, does whatever it is he does without her, and she rubs suntan lotion on her chest in slow, circular motions. Her palms will caress her-
"Trixie Tang!" Her Health teacher screams, lording above her. She jumps about a half a foot into the air, stunned. Fortunately, her notebook shuts on her hand and none can see the picture she currently smoothes over. God…she wants her so badly…
Blushing furiously, she pretends to care about the work and the test being handed out. However, all she can think about is Veronica, Veronica wearing nothing but a smile-
"Goddamn it!" She swears, and all eyes fall open her. She has to get out of here…it's stifling…
Finishing the test post haste, she grabs her bag and leaves. Goddamn sexy Veronica…
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Veronica sits coolly, observing nature. Unbeknown to her, unlike Tootie, she isn't running away from a horrid home situation- her parents know and accept her. They love her.
Well, she can't honestly say that in all good faith…because they don't know. Telling your parents makes it concrete, something that cannot be changed, and the thought of them knowing terrifies her. Especially because the object of her affections is Trixie, and they hate the idea of best friends falling in love with each other. She doesn't understand the reasoning behind it, they just do.
Not that Trixie is liable to fall in love with her…but a girl can dream, can't she? Of hot summer nights, cool autumn nights, cold winter nights with only her to warm her…It's enough to make her drool.
A squirrel bites into an acorn and it chatters happily. There is something oddly familiar about it, but she can't place her finger on it. Perhaps it's its odd coloration of green and the crown floating above it…but maybe she's hallucinating due to the stress. Then again, the only other time she's ever hallucinated creatures with those colors, green and pink, is when she's around Turner. But he isn't here, so what gives?
Unwittingly, she coaxes her sketchbook and a pencil with Trixie's face on it out of her bag and begins to draw. The strokes of the pencil place her into a joyful trance; she's lost in the world of recording its movements and figure. For a good hour, she observes it, the only sign of movement at all coming from the squirrel.
Hair, annoying hair that she hurriedly pushes aside, falls over her face and breaks her concentration. Damn, she's been meaning to get it cut but she's just never gone ahead with it. Perhaps she ought to cut her hair and start anew…sometime. For now, she's stuck here.
But is here so bad right now? When she can draw and lose herself, she transcends this cruel place and joins her own world. She loves her world…it doesn't include the anguish of this one. No one calls her 'gay' (worse because it's true) or threatens her. She's manumitted, vindicated…
Like a breath on her neck, she hears a whisper. "So unfair of you to go into your own world and leave me here…"
But, when she turns, it's gone.
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Trixie Tang can't bring herself to talk to her. For an hour, she's watched her sketch that squirrel, the color she automatically associates with Timmy. But that isn't what's troubling her.
Unbeknownst to her goddess, tears fall. She longs to lean over and kiss them away, but there are people here. More than anything, she's afraid of being caught.
But is it just fear holding her back or is something else at play here? She doesn't know…since when does she care what Timmy thinks? Just because she's slept with him doesn't mean she feels anything for him, does it?
Nevertheless, he attached so much to it; the thought crosses her mind that she might break his heart by revealing himself. Not that Tootie hasn't tried to undermine her, but that bitch can go rot in hell. Timmy doesn't listen to her, anyway.
A pink squirrel glares at her and she jumps back. Since when do squirrels get so personal? And, on that note, since when are squirrels pink? She's losing it, she swears.
Retreating somewhat, she, still deep in thought, walks back to her car. The pink squirrel is gone, fortunately enough, but she could testify that there's a pink hawk watching her overhead. God, she needs some sleep…
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She isn't the only one. Tootie's dead on her feet; she's just going through the motions until she can collapse into a broom in the only bit of her house she can call her own, the linen closet. Vicky's home from college early and she's working her into a stupor; if someone came along right now and told her Timmy was on fire, she'd react the same as if someone told her Timmy's goldfish had died. Nothing at all.
"I told you to get my snack ready ten minutes ago, slave!" Vicky screams, slapping her hard. Tootie stumbles, dazed, into the table. Her eyes are unfocused.
"I'm sorry…" She murmurs.
"Sorry isn't good enough!" Grabbing her roughly, she slams her into a wall. Finally, Tootie recovers long enough to realize she's in imminent danger. Her sister has engaged her teapot rage.
Her body screams out in agony, the pain of Ricky's beating and her sister culminating. And, for a blissful second, she blacks out.
When she awakes, though, it's with Vicky's fist at her throat. She grinds it in and, with a final growl, threatens to rid her of the only thing that gives her sanity- her car. Even if it means hindering her, she will gladly do it to harm the slave.
Tootie's head spins unpleasantly and she sways like a drunkard, but she performs her task. However, if she thought she was going to get a break, she had another thing coming.
For, when she places the carefully prepared snack down and collapses into the chair, Vicky pulls it out from under her and, after finishing the snack, she smashes the plate down on her head. Porcelain shatters.
"Clean it up, bitch. And when you're done with that, I've got a few dozen more tasks to do. And you're not going to sleep until you do them!" Cackling, she kicks her in her tender midsection and departs.
Tootie never finishes the chores nor does she start them. In a few seconds, she faints and knows no more.
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Bored out of his skull, Timmy Turner sits in his history class and doodles. On and on his teacher talks about people who are worse off than him, but he pays it no mind. Slavery is illegal, and why should he care if someone in a far off place is practicing it? It doesn't affect him.
He's happy; he has a beautiful girlfriend who loves him, even if she hasn't said it yet. And, some day, she'll bear his children. That's just how things work.
Perhaps, Timmy, in a perfect world…but then, if the world were perfect, would we need fairies?
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Wanda's new target to trail is Trixie. This isn't as extensive as Tootie and she frankly isn't terribly concerned with the girl, but Timmy's given her orders and she can't disobey a wish, no matter how hard she tries.
Personally, she cannot abide lying, unless, of course, it's necessary. She's had many a homosexual godchild and, although she understands it's painful, they eventually come clean…they don't drag people along for the ride. And Trixie Tang is definitely doing this.
Just the idea of what she's doing to her godson fills her with anger. If she weren't forced to remain incognito, she'd love to show that girl a thing or two about honesty. Alas, though, she must remain like this.
If only she could get Timmy to listen, but, no, he's got his mind made up already. Once a boy like that thinks something through, he's not going to go through the trouble of pondering it through again just to verify it. No wonder he did so poorly on the SATs, his reasoning is completely irrational.
He's a seventeen year old boy and he thinks he's in love. But he doesn't know love, and she does. She knows what he feels for Trixie is misplaced, because he thinks, since he's always felt this, he will forever. And he doesn't realize that what he's always felt is far from love…it's just a pathetic schoolboy crush.
She never encouraged it, but, since she is his fairy godmother, she never discouraged it. Instead, she tried to help him because that was what he wanted her to do, instead of giving him the real help he sorely needed. She and Cosmo kept mum.
Cosmo, poor dear. Truly, she wishes she could do something for him to prove that he isn't completely ineffectual; unfortunately, unless he blurts out Trixie's orientation, he is. Cosmo simply has no tact.
Grr…and she's lost the girl again. It's almost as if she's aware she's following her, but that can't be right. Why would she think that, just because it's true?
But never mind. Back to work.