>Be you, Gilda
>You're like, the baddest kid in all of Canterlot Middle School
>Don't nobody wanna fuck with you
>Yeah, that's right, you're not even scared to say the f-word
>You prowl around the hallways, your JNCO jeans swishing around your long, soccer-player legs and a tight-fitting "My Music Scares People" t-shirt shows off the slender biceps and developing breasts you're so proud of
>A pair of Skullcandy™ headphones blasts Linkin Park in your ears, a perfect reminder of the pain only you understand and nobody else ever will
>You really wish they'd let you wear eyeliner at school
>One of these days you're gonna do it anyway, fuck Principal Cadence
>Unfortunately, your badass brooding session is interrupted by some girl's painfully loud voice coming from up ahead
>She's so loud you can even hear her over Chester Bennington's impassioned voice
>The girl in question is standing atop a bench little way's down the hall, her megaphone voice blasting around her
>She's dressed in some stupid Naruto hoodie, and she's handing out folded slips of paper to everyone that passes by
>Most people throw their in the trash immediately after
>As you get closer, you slouch over, trying to look world-weary and above all this bullshit
>"This Friday night! The Great and Powerful Trixie's birthday spectacular! Featuring a magic show performed by Trixie herself! And plenty of cupcakes, ^w^."
>You have no idea how she just ^w^'d in real life, and you don't want to know
>So you just stroll on by, making sure to give her your patented "I'm a super tough chick and you don't wanna mess with me" look
>Trixie locks eyes with you
>"Hey, Gilda! Trixie bets you want an invitation!"
>You freeze
"How the hell do you know my name?"
>"A magician never reveals her secrets!"
"That's not a secret! Are you some kinda weird stalker?"
>Trixie just laughs, covering her mouth with the back of her hand
>"All will be revealed in time! Join Trixie this weekend, she insists!"
>She practically forces the invitation into your hands
>You glance at it for a second; the thing is drawn with those fancy marker sets that "artsy" kids get as presents, featuring a hand-drawn Trixie scrawling out the words "You're invited!" with beams of multi-colored magic
>Below the drawing, her address and phone number are listed
>How long did it take her to make this?
>Eh, fuck it, you're not gonna waste your time there anyway
"Yeah, not happening. I got shit to do."
>"Trixie understands! It will be your loss!"
"Yeah, yeah."
>You crumple the thing and pitch it

>Friday comes
>You're still being a badass, decide to skip out of on school early
>Head home to play some Tony Hawk Pro Skater instead, maybe drink some Red Bull
>Feels good being hardcore
>Unfortunately, your stepdad's home

>Thirty minutes later you're milling around in the backyard
>The left side of your face still stings, and you can feel an ugly bruise blossoming around your temple
>Your eyes burn too, but you don't cry
>You never cry
>Seeing as your house lies on the outskirts of town, your backyard eventually just merges into the public land surrounding the train tracks
>As on most afternoons, you sit by the tracks, bouncing rocks off the steel girders
>It's chilly, enough to make you wish you'd thought to grab your favorite leather jacket
>Can't go back inside, though
>Not really much of anyplace to go
>Except, well, you do remember what was written on Trixie's invitation...

>This is such a mistake, but whatever
>You knock on Trixie's door, and it opens almost immediately
>She's standing there, beaming
>"Gilda! You came!"
"Yeah, yeah. What's up? Am I the first one?"
>Behind Trixie, the house was completely empty
>"Yep!"
"Huh. I thought I was super late."
>"You are, but, uh..."
>Trixie gives an awkward chuckle, scratching at the back of her head
>"Nobody else showed up."
"Oh. That sucks."
>You awkwardly stuff your hands into your pockets; how are you supposed to respond to that
>Trixie, to her credit, recovers quickly
>Her exuberance returns
>"It doesn't matter! Trixie supposes the promise of such a Great and Powerful party was simply too much for the common rabble."
"Right. So, uh... is it cool if I come in?"
>"Certainly! Right this way, if you would."
>Trixie welcomes you inside
>Her house is fucking *nice* too
>Double the size of yours, easily, with pristine white walls and furniture built out of glossy, hand-carved wood
>Purple and blue streamers are hung from the ceiling, alongside balloons and posters that say "Happy Birthday, Trixie!"
>You whistle, impressed
>"Trixie's home is most fitting to one as impressive as her. Can she offer you a drink?"
"Yeah, sure."
>Trixie disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to wander around the living room
>Her family's TV is about as tall as you are, with an entire rack dedicated to videogame consoles
>You hear footsteps behind you, then Trixie's voice:
>"Aha! Admiring Trixie's collection, I see?"
"Yeah. You got a lotta good shit."
>"Trixie is quite proud of them," she says as she flops onto the couch, setting two Solo cups full of Mountain Dew onto the coffee table. "What do you wanna play?"
"You serious?"
>"Of course Trixie's serious! Pick anything you like," she says, gesturing to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf holding her game collection
>You stare at the thing, your eyes going a little bleary as you try to read all the titles
>It's kinda wild to you to even think a videogame could last this long; most of yours don't make it more than a few months before your dad pitches them
"I, uh... I can't choose."
>"That's okay. Trixie will pick for you!"
>She yanks a random game off the shelf, holding it proudly above her head
>"Mario Party! Trixie is great at this game!"
"Huh."
>You shrug
"Sounds kinda lame."
>"Kinda lame!?"
>Trixie looks morally outraged
>"Mario Party is a gaming classic!"
"Whatever. I never played one."
>"You never played a Mario Game?"
>Now she goes from offended to just outright shock
"No? I never had a Nintendo."
>"Never had..."
>Trixie shakes her head, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder
>"Gilda. Trixie is *so* sorry for your loss."
"It's not that big a deal, weirdo."
>"It is! Mario is the pinnacle of gaming!"
"If you say so."
>You flop onto the couch, propping your feet up on the coffee table
"But this better be good."
>"Oh, it is! You're about to have the most fun of your life!"

>Trixie pops the game in, explains the rules, and you start to play
>It's definitely not your kinda game, but it starts to grow on you
>And, to be perfectly honest, you're straight-up destroying Trixie
>You crush her at most of the minigames, screw her over with traps, and slowly build up a star collection more than double hers
>It's the last turn of the game, and you're feeling like the coolest motherfucker around
"You wanna just give up?" you ask, smirking at Trixie
>She's sitting across the couch from you, legs crossed, controller casually resting in her lap
>"Nope!"
"You sure? Next turn you're pretty much done."
>"Don't worry, Trixie will be just fine."
>You shrug
"Your funeral, dude."
>You take your turn, earning a few more coins, and pass to Trixie
>She happily bobs back and forth as she rolls the die, moves, and lands on that space with the ghost
>The fucking ghost
>And then she steals half your stars
>One turn left in the game, and suddenly all your stars are gone
>You blink, staring at the game in disbelief
>"Looks like Trixie wins!"
"Are you... are you fucking kidding me!?"
>You hurl your controller across the room, where it makes a small dent in the wall
"This game is bullshit! How can you just steal all my coins!? I hate it! It's just stupid luck, and it's not even fun! Fuck!"
>You jump to your feet, fists curling, and look around for something to hit
>That's when you notice Trixie
>She's curled up on her corner of the couch, staring at you with wide, scared eyes
>It occurs to you how much you probably look like your dad right now
"...sorry."
>"No. Trixie is very sorry she upset you--"
"It's not your fault. I just got a shitty temper."
>You run a hand through your cropped hair, letting out your breath in a huff
>Trixie scoots a little closer and gingerly placed her hand on your arm
>"Trixie can find another game for us to play, if you want."
"I think I should get going, actually."
>You stand up and head for the door, but Trixie grabs ahold of your arm
>"Wait! You can't leave yet!"
"Nah. I'm not feeling it, dude. I'll just end up wrecking more of your stuff."
>"It's okay! Trixie will tell her parents she did it! Just please don't go."
>She tries to physically yank you away from the door, but she's pretty scrawny and definitely a lot weaker than you
>You yank your arm free of her grasp and pull the door open
>But just as your boots hit the welcome mat, you hear her mumbling behind you
>"Please don't make Trixie spend her birthday alone..."
>You freeze
>The expanse of Trixie's neighborhood in front of you sets a strange tingling in your feet, an urge to just start running past the rows of off-white stucco boxes and hopefully never stop
>It'd be best if you put as much distance between yourself and Trixie as possible
>Trixie tugs on your sleeve again
"I'm... I'm really not the kinda person you want to keep around."
>"Yes you are. You're, like, the coolest girl in the whole school. Trixie was so, *so* happy you actually showed up. You were the last person she expected."
>You let your breath out in a huff, and turn to face her
"You knew who I was, back when you were giving out invitations. How?"
>Trixie shrugs
>"Can Trixie tell you a secret?"
"Uh... sure?"
>Suddenly, she gets this weirdly conspiratorial look on her face
>"Follow Trixie down to her room."
"Why? There's nobody around."
>"Trixie can't risk ruining her reputation!"
"Right. Of course."
>You let Trixie drag you back inside, and the weird urge to run away fades away when the door closes behind you
>She holds tightly to your arm as she guides you down the stairs, into a bedroom tucked away in the corner of the basement
>Well, "basement" seems like a poor word to describe it; it's somewhere between a home theater and a gameroom, with a floor-to-ceiling TV, pool table, and replica arcade cabinates
>You're so jealous it hurts

>Trixie's room, following the theme, is spacious and positively cluttered with cool stuff
>Model robots, action figures, lego sets in various states of construction, piles and piles of comic books, and mountains of pencil sketches, most of which you don't even have time to properly examine
>The floor is littered with clothes and empty bottles of Mountain Dew, which kinda makes you feel right at home
"Nice."
>"Trixie knew you would appreciate it. Her abode is a haven of everything awesome in the world."
"That's one way to put. Now what's this big secret?"
>Trixie plops onto the bed, and you sit on the corner
>"Can you promise not to tell anyone else?"
"Who would I bother telling?"
>"Trixie has enemies everywhere!"
>You raise an eyebrow
"I promise. Now what's up?"
>Trixie's voice drops to a whisper
>"Trixie thinks you're actually even cooler than she is."
"Oh... thanks?"
>You scratch at the back of your head
"I think."
>"You should be honored! There are very few people who even Trixie looks up to."
"Uh huh. So, like... could you go back to dropping the act?"
>"What act?"
"The whole full-of-yourself thing. It gets kinda weird."
>"Trixie is a great and powerful magician! She must compose herself as such."
>You stare into Trixie's face
"I think it's fake. I saw the real you for a moment. When you stopped me from leaving, that was the real Trixie. Why are you covering her up again?"
>It's subtle, but a tiny twitch of nervousness crosses Trixie's face
>"Trixie has no idea what you're talking about."
"Yes you do. Why did you really know my name? We've never even talked before."
>"Trixie, um... Trixie..."
>She starts fidgeting with the hem of her sweatshirt, wringing the fabric between her slender hands
>Then, suddenly, she sticks up her nose
>"Trixie has decided not to tell you. A real magician never reveals her secret-- ah!"
>You throw yourself on top of Trixie, interrupting her
>Your weight knocks her backwards onto the bed and you land atop her, splaying your body across hers to pin her down
>You're gentle enough to avoid hurting her, but she writhes beneath you all the same, unable to break free
>"Unhand Trixie!"
"No."
>"Trixie will be forced to resort to most unpleasant means if you don't let her go!"
"Drop the act."
>"There is no act! Trixie is powerful beyond your comprehension!"
>She tries to bite your shoulder, but your jacket is too thick for her teeth to penetrate
>Besides, you've felt much worse
>Finally, Trixie goes limp
>"Let Trixie go," she mutters, sulking
"Nope. Tell me the truth."
>"Agh, fine! Trixie..."
>Her voice falls to almost a whisper
>"I mean, I kinda sorta have a crush on you."
"...oh."
>Trixie avoids looking at you, her cheeks red
>"It... it hurt me when nobody showed up. It really did. But you did. And that made me really, really happy. The real Trixie isn't very fun, or very interesting. Nobody ever came to the real Trixie's birthday parties. But the Great and Powerful Trixie at least got you. The one person she wanted to see the most. She thought that, if she just showed you how cool she could be..."
>In spite of yourself, you laugh
"You fucking idiot."
>"Hey! I'm baring my soul, here!"
"You seriously thought I would like a pompous weirdo more than the real you?"
>"...maybe."
"Hah. Damn, dude. I, uh..."
>You roll off Trixie and lay on the bed alongside her
>Above the two of you, a bunch of glow-in-the-dark plastic stars are pasted to the ceiling
"You didn't have to do any of that."
>"I guess not. But I was so worried that real Trixie would just be a huge disappointment."
"Nah. You're weird, sure. But you're not a bad person."
>"You don't even know real Trixie yet."
"I know you enough. Trust me, you're far from a disappointment."
>"Hmm."
>You roll onto your side, looking into Trixie's face
>She stares back at you, her blushing visible even in the bedroom's dim lighting

>"You say that. But nobody sticks around real Trixie for very long."
"Nobody sticks around me very long either. You ever see me with a big crowd of people?"
>"Well... no."
"Exactly."
>"I just thought you were too cool for friends."
"Hah!"
>Trixie frowns
>"Trixie knows that sounds stupid."
"Hell yeah it does. But hey, it sounds a lot better than the truth."
>"What is the truth?"
>You pull yourself up into a sitting position, resting your back against the headboard of Trixie's bed
"I'm a fuckup. Anyone who gets too close to me tends to get their shit broken. Or they get hurt."
>You brush your hair away from your temple, revealing the purple bruise resting there
>Trixie gasps
>"Ah! Are you okay? This isn't because of something I did, right?"
"Nah. Just... you know, family garbage."
>Trixie sits up as well, but keeps her eyes focused on the spot between her feet
>She scoots a few inches away from you, as if afraid her mere presence would scare you away
>"I understand. I'm sorry about earlier. It was my fault you got so angry."
"Maybe a bit. Fuck that game, seriously."
>You grin, and Trixie finally makes eye contact
>It's kinda amazing, the way her violet eyes light up when they land on you
>Her gaze makes you feel radiant and indestructible, that kind of feeling you only get on your best days
>"The internet says it's a 'friendship destroyer.' I thought your reaction would be pretty funny."
"Was it?"
>She lets out a tiny chuckle
>"A little bit, yeah."
"Worth it then," you say, joining her in laughter
>A long silence falls between the two of you, during which the only sound is the whirring of an AC unit somewhere in the basement
"So... too cool for friends, huh?" you finally say
>Trixie nods, shielding her eyes in embarrassment
>"I was just really, really into you, okay? It made me think some stupid things."
"Nah, I fucking love that. It's kinda adorable."
>"A-adorable?"
>Trixie stares at you, her face crimson
"Kinda, yeah."
>"Well, T-Trixie accepts your compliment."
>She wrings the sleeves of her sweatshirt between her hands, muttering the word "adorable" under her breath
>You do the mental equivalent of saying 'fuck it,' and take hold of Trixie's hand
>She freezes
"Y'know... fuck it. Why don't we be too-cool-for-friends together?"
>"You and me? For real?"
"Why not? You're really the only cool person I've ever met at this dumpster fire of a school. Which, uh, is kinda fucked when you think about it..." you say, glancing at the piles of model kits and toys that dominate Trixie's room
>"You just called me cool."
"Guess so."
>"You. Calling me cool. W-wow..."
>For a moment, Trixie looks like she's going to faint
>"Of course I wanna to be too-cool-for-friends with you! Can't think of anyone to be too-cool with!"
>Then she throws herself onto you, her soft, skinny little body colliding against yours in a sudden, enthusiastic hug
>As she does so, both her face and yours sort of brush up against each other, close enough that her breath splashes against your face but not quite close enough that you can kiss
>You keep your eyes closed, only letting them flutter open when you realize Trixie isn't pulling away
>The two of you stay there, wrapped in each other's arms, your noses barely a centimeter apart
>It's the perfect kissing position, and a part of your brain tells you to just go for it
>But you don't
>You do something that you, Gilda, rarely ever do
>You chicken out
>Instead of kissing her, you rest your head atop her shoulder, instead contenting yourself to breathe in the crisp, vaguely dusty smell of Trixie's sweatshirt
>You feel Trixie's face rest against yours, the flush in her skin telling you that she had a very similar thought, and also lost her nerve
>You can't help but smile
>Who'd have thought kissing would be so scary?
>You resolve that you won't lose your nerve next time, and are somewhat surprised to find you're already counting on a next time
>There's something immensely reassuring in hugging Trixie, and just being in her house
>Even if the party ended up vacant and her parents clearly aren't around much, the two of you have each other
>It just feels natural, inevitable, even, that you'd stick to her
>There's a lot about Trixie you don't quite know yet
>And, honestly, you kinda like that
>For the first time that you can remember, you're genuinely looking forward to the future