Chapter Text
Trixie’s family has lived in Two Rivers for decades. Even her great-grandmother, who is somehow still alive at over a hundred years old, can’t remember a time when their family didn’t live here.
And Trixie hates it with every fiber of her being.
It isn’t that the town doesn’t have its charms. From the rickety shack near the beach with the blue and white striped awning where she gets ice cream sundaes every summer, to the massive church stowed away on top of the highest hill in town where she spent hours every winter during her childhood holding onto her brother’s waist for dear life while the toboggan slid down the slope - she has fond memories of her time in Two Rivers.
But as many good memories as she has, she can’t help but itch to leave. The town has a nasty habit of gossiping, and it’s nearly impossible to keep anything hidden for long, no matter how private or embarrassing. There’s no way around it; life in a small town doesn’t afford you even the illusion of anonymity.
Katya’s family had moved into town a few years ago - Trixie can remember because Katya’s arrival to their tiny high school had shaken the student body. Their town wasn’t used to new people, and the school wasn’t used to new students. Most of the students’ parents had gone to the same high school as their parents, and their parents, stretching back until the founding of the town itself.
So when the town got a new car dealership headed by a tall, impressively muscled man with a heavy Russian accent, the long-time occupants of Two Rivers had been understandably wary. His wife, much shorter with a much lighter accent, had managed to find herself in the good graces of Mrs. Peters at the town’s only bridal boutique and land an impressive gig as the in-house designer and seamstress. The family seemed to be assimilating into the small town culture fairly easily.
At least for the first few weeks.
But before long, rumors started floating around that Mr. Zamolodchikova was a boss in the Russian mafia. Trixie is almost certain the gossip had started where most gossip in town does - Violet Chachki.
Trixie tolerates Violet - she has to, for the sake of her best friend Adore who is friends with the most popular girl in school. But there’s not a shadow of a doubt in Trixie’s mind that Violet is the one who originated the rumor. It’s a well-known fact that Violet has a bit of a thing for married men, and Trixie had heard whispers through the grapevine (the grapevine in this scenario being Adore) that Violet had hit on Mr. Zamo, and that Mr. Zamo had very adamantly rejected her. And it’s another well-known fact that Violet doesn’t take rejection well.
And the rumors have snowballed wildly from their beginnings. Accusations of drug trafficking, gunrunning, and even murder have been whispered through the narrow cobblestone streets of Two Rivers. The gossip even spread to his daughter; tales of promiscuous activities and wild partying plagued the girl wherever she went.
Which took poor Katya from being the pretty and shiny (if bashful) new girl that everyone wanted to pull into their friend group, to being the dangerous loner who people avoided in the cafeteria and chose last during gym class. Trixie remembers feeling bad for her, but since Violet and Adore were friends, and Violet had a very strict “no Zamo” policy, she had felt unable to reach out to her. Trixie remembers wanting to reach out to the beautiful, shy girl so badly.
Fortunately for her though, Trixie’s brother Daniel was in the same science class as Katya, and the two were paired together for a project that ended up bringing them closer together. Trixie has enjoyed getting to see Katya’s gorgeous smile and hear her warm peals of laughter in her home, even if Trixie’s been too afraid to talk much to the (slightly) older girl.
And that’s how Trixie has found herself here, sitting crosslegged on one end of Adore’s couch while she confesses the feelings she’s been having to her best friend.
“No fucking way,” Adore laughs. “You have a crush on your brother’s friend?”
Trixie’s cheeks are burning as she locks her eyes onto her notebook, furiously scribbling down an equation. “Can we actually like, not talk about this? We have a test tomorrow, we should be focusing on that.”
“Fuck the test,” Adore yanks the notebook out from under Trixie’s pen, prompting a groan.
Trixie lets her head fall into her hands.
“What do you want to know?” Her words are muffled through her palms.
There’s a shuffling that Trixie is too embarrassed to look up at, but it sounds like Adore has scooted closer to her on the couch. “How long has your brother been friends with Katya?”
“I don’t know,” the blonde admits, lifting her head slightly. “I only started noticing her hanging around last year, so at least that long.” She tugs lightly at a string hanging from a tear in her jeans.
“What about her dad?” Trixie can hear the intrigue in Adore’s voice, and see the eyebrow raise that accompanies the tone in her mind’s eye.
“What about him?” She asks, pretending not to know what Adore could possibly mean. But Adore knows that Trixie knows. Everyone in town knows.
“Do you think he’s really -”
“I don’t know,” Trixie groans. “I don’t think so, she seems too… normal to be the kid of a mob boss.”
“Normal? Are you kidding? That girl is the furthest thing from normal.”
“Are you sure you’re the best judge of who’s normal, Adore? Really?” Trixie flips a page in the textbook, pretending to scan it, trying desperately to make this conversation end. But she can’t just let Adore say bad things about Katya. They don’t even know her, really, so how would they know if she’s normal or not.
“...Okay, fair.” There’s a beat of silence, a glorious pause where Trixie thinks the conversation might actually end. “Are you sure they’re not fucking?”
The blunt question shocks Trixie enough that she finally makes eye contact with her friend once more. “I - fuck, I don’t think they are? What the fuck kind of question is that, Jesus,” she mumbles, crossing her arms in front of her.
“It’s an important one if you’re going to try to make a pass at her,” Adore lifts a jet black eyebrow in her direction.
“Who said I was going to do that? All I said was that she’s cute! I don’t even know if she likes girls,” Trixie huffs and sits up, leaning toward the coffee table that is covered in textbooks and highlighters. She starts to shove her belongings back into her bag, determined to end the conversation.
“Let’s find out, then.”
There’s a strange tone to Adore’s voice, and Trixie recognizes it as her scheming voice.
“What are you -”
“Hey, it’s Adore,” a grin spreads over her face.
Trixie frantically looks for her phone before she freezes and pales. The pink case around the phone in Adore’s hand tells her that what she had feared was exactly what had happened. Adore had called someone on Trixie’s phone.
“So, Katya,” Adore smirks as Trixie’s eyes widen in distress. “Are you and Daniel, like, a thing?”
Trixie mouths a quick “what the fuck” at Adore, but she just rolls her eyes back at her.
“You’re just friends? But Daniel is so hot,” she twirls the end of a braided pigtail around in her fingers. Trixie wrinkles her nose. She knows Adore thinks her brother is hot, but she doesn’t like to think about it.
From Trixie’s spot, now pressed impossibly close to Adore’s side, she can hear a familiar cackle over the receiver as Adore starts to laugh as well. Katya’s wide smile flashes into her mind and she feels herself hopelessly sinking deeper into her infatuation with the tiny blonde Russian.
“Fuckin’ party,” she nods. “I didn’t think you were into him but I wanted to check before I tried anything.”
The cover is believable, and Trixie is grateful Adore had the foresight to think up an excuse.
Adore locks the phone and hands it back to Trixie, then flops back on the couch. She picks up a magazine and starts reading it.
As the seconds tick by, Trixie tries not to lose it. She’s anxious to hear what Katya had said that was so funny, but Adore seems to have moved on from the conversation.
“Well?” She snaps finally.
“Huh?” Adore stares back at her.
“Adore,” Trixie whines and clings to her arm, her best puppy dog eyes on full display. “What did Katya say?”
“Oh, right,” she closes the magazine and tosses it onto the coffee table. “There’s nothing going on between her and Daniel.”
Trixie tries to ignore the way her heart swells at the news. “Are you sure? Like, she wasn’t lying?”
“I’m sure,” Adore pats Trixie’s arm where it’s looped around her elbow. “She’s not into him.”
“But like, if he’s into her -”
“He’s not,” Adore cuts her off.
“You don't know that ,” Trixie moans.
“Jesus, Trix,” she tosses her head back against the couch cushions. “Try to read between the lines for once. She's not into him, because she's not into any guys.”
Trixie isn't getting it. So Katya doesn't have a crush on anyone. That doesn't mean that she won't sometime soon - it doesn't mean that she won't start liking Daniel. It happens all the time in the romance movies Farrah and Kim force them to watch when they come over.
“Okay… and?”
“Oh my God,” Adore claps a hand over her own forehead before sitting up to look at her friend. “Katya doesn't like Daniel, because Katya doesn't like boys , Trixie.”