Author's Note: Over a hundred reviews! Yay! Thanks to all my lovely reviewers! (And the one not so lovely one…)
Disclaimer: I don't own FOP. (smirks) What would make you think otherwise?
Chapter Twenty: Breaking the Habit
The wind knocks her hair back and forth, but she fails to notice it. In her hands is yet another sketchbook, but she's not drawing. Instead, she's destroying everything with Trixie's face on it. Tears stream down her face unchecked and her shoulders shake with sobs.
I am not a cheap lay, damn it! The only reason I could think of why she'd avoid saying she loved me was because she only used me…used me like a cheap slut. Just like her…
No! Trixie is perfect, she's an angel brought to earth…but why couldn't she tell me she loved me? Why? Is it because I'm not a guy and therefore, she can't express it? She's afraid by saying it; everyone will turn on her…but not me! I'd never turn on her…
But what if she didn't say it because she isn't in love with me? What if she's not capable of love? I thought I knew her best…but if she managed to keep her sexuality a secret from me for years and make me think she really loved Timmy, how well do I really know her? Does anyone really know her?
On that same token, does anyone know me? I kept the same secret, harbored it against my best friend…my lover…I told the same lies day in and day out, faked those smiles, those irritating giggles…I was a diehard straight girl until I was exposed.
Maybe she's a really good actress. If she is, she sure had me fooled. Not only did I think she was gay and interested in me; she managed to alienate the whole school…but what if that was part of her plan? Maybe she turned on me like them and she wanted to pull one over on me? Tad and Chad could have easily put her up to it…
Can hatred be faked? Can you look at someone repeatedly and lie to their face, telling them you want them dead but you love them more than life itself? Can you deceive both of them?
Can love be faked? Can you make those snide remarks behind another person's back, pretend to care for them, and then stab them in the back? Is that what Trixie did? Did she only sleep with me because she wanted to hurt me?
Because, believe me, it hurts. It's like someone's harpooning me in the heart, wrenching it, and then slitting my throat. Bitch…but she isn't…Trixie Tang is perfect; it's only me that's fucked up. Everything's my fault…damn crush…if it hadn't turned into love, that is…
Tears obscure her vision and she can't see the loving touch that brushes them away. She feels a weight settle on the bench beside her and stroke her hair, pulling her close enough to kiss her neck. Trixie…
"Go away!" Veronica shrieks, meaning the opposite. "I don't need…don't need…"
"I'm not going away, Veronica," Trixie says sternly, wrapping her arms around her. The blonde haired girl shudders deeply, in both pleasure and anger. She wants her gone…no, she doesn't. Badly, she longs to hear the words "I love you". But if she isn't here to say that…what if it's "April Fools" or some stupid thing like that? What if…
By now, her thought process is about as fogged as her vision, if both weren't afflicted before. Her body yearns to react for her, extending into Trixie's embrace and showing her just how much she loves her. But now is not the time. She will not be used like that, damn it! No matter how much she wants to be…
It's just the car all over again. She pushed her away with one hand, but she couldn't successfully drive her away. Trixie is her Achilles' heel and, like it or lump it, she can't just throw her away. Well, maybe she can…she's never tried before.
"Ver, there's something I need to tell you…" Trixie murmurs, stroking her hair. Veronica disentangles herself. If she's going to break up with her, she'd rather they stood apart, so she doesn't have to feel heaven against her skin. She knows that if she feels it, she'll lose her mind in ecstasy.
"You're breaking up with me, right?" She murmurs back, shivering despite the warm breeze. Already, her mind conjures the scenario awaiting her, the heartbreak. She must prepare herself for the worst, but secretly pray for the best. Say you love me…
"Why are you ripping up all those drawings?" Instead of answering her, she scrutinizes the shreds of her girlfriend's visions, all sketched very well. It's almost like staring at herself in the mirror; they're so lifelike. The thought occurs to her that Veronica might seriously have talent.
"I don't want to be reminded of what I almost had…" Veronica whispers to herself, shoulders quaking with sobs. She will not meet her eyes; she only stares at her feet. Trixie yearns to wrap her arms around her, but every move she makes is drastically reinterpreted. Veronica's terrified of losing what she considers paradise…and what I do too.
"What are you talking about? You still have it," Trixie whispers, stepping a half an inch closer. She grabs her hand and holds it, but Veronica wrenches it out. She really doesn't want me to touch her, does she? Does she think this is easy for me?
"Don't b.s. me. You never loved me, you never will. We're deceiving ourselves if we try to make this work…I'm just screwed up, thinking I had a chance with perfection…I love you, Trixie Tang. But I know you don't love me back, so I'll just be leaving now, before I find out for myself just what you did to Timmy…" Veronica breaks down entirely and runs down the lane, Trixie at her heels. Run from the pain, run away.
"Veronica!" Trixie shrieks, catching her from behind and tackling her hard to the ground. They remain like that, Trixie's arms wrapped around her waist and Veronica panting, not because she was running fast but because Trixie's pressed up against her. If she's going to break up with her, then at least she can feel her beforehand.
"Ver…Ver…don't run away from me, this is important. Please, Ver…I need you to stay…if you don't like what I have to say, I promise I'll let go of you and you can just run off." But I don't think you will, at least I hope not.
"What is it?" She whispers, barely audible. April Fools…I got you good…freaky little gay girl.
"Do you remember when we were kids? We'd make those stupid pinky promises, cross ourselves in case of cooties and then avoid all the boys? Well, we did that in kindergarten, when we were almost allowed a childhood," Trixie tightens her grip around her waist and kisses her neck. Veronica freezes, unsure where she's heading with both affection and speech.
"Yeah…"
"We grew up together, saw each other through thick and thin. We'd never keep secrets from each other, at least, nothing big. We were always completely honest with each other.
"Until we entered high school, that is. High school is the place where everyone figures out who he or she are and how he or she fit into this world. When we figured out who we were, however, we didn't like it. It wasn't normal, so it wasn't right. So we started to lie.
"Do you know how painful it is to look at another girl and feel attracted to her? You know you're supposed to be one way, but you're not. You don't know what the hell's going on with you and you don't want it. You don't want to look at another girl and fantasize about her. It isn't normal.
"It's worse when everyone knows your name. You're popular, everyone looks to you for guidance. If they catch you, you're outcast faster than you can say 'homosexual'. So you have to keep your eyes from straying.
"But it's so hard. You want to make your eyes stray over to guys, but you feel nothing when you look at them. Even your boyfriend, who tells you he loves you every day and makes love to you, it feels so empty. Because it is. You're living a lie and it's numb.
"I wanted to feel something when he made love to me, damn it! I wanted to feel excited, something, anything. But there was only a void there where my heterosexuality was. I was a slut, but the worse kind of one. I was the lying slut, who kept up the charade by staying one step ahead of the game. That was the only way I could win and have any control over the situation.
"I didn't have control over anything else. I didn't have any control over the way I viewed females, the way my father would sometimes look at me, like I was an alien, or the way my mother would snort in contempt when she saw me. They knew what I couldn't accept.
"Veronica, I don't know what you're thinking right now, but I'm not playing some elaborate trick on you. I love you more than anything else and I'm sorry if you got any other impression.
"I love you," Trixie finishes, breathing on her neck. Veronica says absolutely nothing, remains motionless. She longs to press her, but won't. That's a long monologue to digest.
"I love you too," Veronica whispers finally, after what feels like an eternity. They lie on the grass for a while and forget their troubles…