We Rose Up Slowly

Chapter Nine

Katya sipped her hot coffee while she talked with Bob about life, pretending that she wasn't avoiding talking about Trixie. They talked about the upcoming exams and Bob's job as a costume maker. How he just got a huge order for a musical and how Katya was learning about the renaissance and what it meant. She didn't mention the two paintings she was working on, how she had added more and more blood to the corset painting. Katya also went on a rant about some stupid misogynistic professor that wanted to give the women in the class an easier assignment. Bob listened and commented, never letting Katya know that he had noticed how she didn't even say Trixie's name. 

She would often mention it in annoyance or frustration. Complaining about how Trixie would always leave dishes or her jackets and coats on the couch, how she acted like there were people behind her fixing everything always. At this point Bob should've told Katya to just change rooms and shut the fuck up, she sure had money to afford it. But Katya never mentioned moving out as an option, so she never considered it. And the one time Bob slightly implied that possibility Katya started saying that eventually, Trixie would learn, that was the only time he heard Katya defend Trixie.

"What about Trixie?" Bob saw the opportunity to fill a short silence.

"Oh," Katya said before taking a sip of her cup. "She's annoying like always, she went out last night."

"How is that annoying? She left you alone," Bob shook his head. "Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes, but she mentioned Violet,"

"And what did you say?"

"I don't know, probably called her bratty because why not," She shrugged.

"Did you tell her about Violet?"

"Fuck no," Katya frowned. "Not her business."

"I mean it kinda is tho," He brought the teacup to his mouth. "She's your roommate, she should know if someone is not coming over anymore." He saw Katya's unconvinced face. "Unless you have other reasons not to,"

"Don't start with the cryptic shit bitch," She pointed a finger at him. "It's just not her business."

"Lies don't suit you Yekaterina," He smiled when he saw Katya's facade drop. "You know you can tell me anything."

"It's not as big and relevant as you think, Okay?" Katya started getting a bit fidgety. "She came to my room before going out to tell me she was going to," She started taking out a cigarette. "She looked so good, I checked her out, and it was so fucking obvious." She offered one cig to Bob.

"And what about it?" He took the cigarette. "Checking someone out doesn't mean shit, right?"

"I know, I know, that's what I think as well, it's just ugh," She lit her own cigarette. "Today morning I found her on the couch sleeping, she looked," She made a pause and lit Bob's cigarette. "Pretty."

"You sure talk about it like it's a huge deal,"

"But it isn't right?"

"I don't think I'm the one who should be defining that," He raised his brows and took a drag of the cigarette. "Maybe you could talk about it with your therapist."

"For what?" She frowned and moved dramatically her hands. "It isn't anxiety-inducing or any shit like that, it's just weird."

Bob tilted his head and stared at the cigarette on Katya's hand with wide eyes.

"Shut up." 

-

Trixie woke up with the sun hitting straight to her face and a blanket that she had not fallen asleep with over her. Her head was spinning and her back hurt as if she just aged thirty years, since when does she have such shitty hangovers? She sat up slowly, but she quickly ran to the bathroom when she felt the vomit making its way out. It was worse than she remembered it, way worse. How she would feel her whole throat open up and her eyes water, also how disgusting it felt after. Trixie stood up and was welcomed with most of her dizziness gone as she washed her face and brushed her teeth with a generous amount of toothpaste.