//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: The Illusions' Case: The Stolen Salamander // by gapty //------------------------------// Trixie had made a habit of always arriving just before first period, as this avoided any social interaction in the morning. However, if she planned to confront Velvet, she had only the morning to meet her without the possible misfortune of the suspect being in a lesson. Thus, she roamed aimlessly around the hallway, on the lookout for the student. “Good morning, Trixie!” Pinkie greeted her, waving her arms. “Hello,” Trixie responded. “How are you?” Trixie glanced at Pinkie, who had a wide smile on her face. Was she ever not happy? Was her smile genuine? Why was she so interested in Trixie when no one else had greeted her this morning? “Doing fine,” Trixie replied the phrase she knew was expected and kept walking. She had no time for any small talk—not even mentioning how much she hated it. “Bye!” Pinkie called after her. That was weird, or at least that’s what Trixie thought it was. There was barely any conversation, and by the bouncing sounds—however Pinkie made them—Pinkie just moved on. Was Trixie supposed to— Trixie shook her head. It was too early; she just wasn’t mentally prepared for the school day. After taking a deep breath, she put on a grin, straightened her posture and strode firmly along her path. She was, after all, the Great and Powerful Trixie and didn’t care what others thought of her. The timing couldn’t be more perfect, as she saw Velvet standing before an open locker. “Well, well, well. Who do we have here?” Trixie said, crossing her arms as she leaned on the wall with her back. “Um, do you mean me?” Velvet asked. “Yes, Trixie does.” Velvet blinked, before rolling her eyes. “Right, you and your third person. What do you want?” Trixie raised her hand to seemingly observe her nails—just as she had seen it in movies. “It has come to the Great and Innocent Trixie’s attention that you were kicked out from the soccer club. How come?” “Very simple: I wasn’t very good and we got new younger members to replace me.” “Interesting,” Trixie responded calmly and turned her gaze to Velvet, making eye contact. “And wouldn’t that anger you?” “No, I’m too busy representing our school in the chess tournaments anyway.” Trixie couldn’t find any suppressed rage in Velvet’s voice, and her face didn’t reveal any fear, so Trixie went back to observing her nails. “But think about that: You look like a slacker, unable to compete even with the freshmen.” “No, I’m not.” “Hi, Velvet!” Trixie looked up to see a small girl with curly orange hair and big, round glasses. She had seen her many times during her classes, but couldn’t remember her name. “Hi, Scribble,” Velvet greeted back and closed her locker. “Trixie thinks I stole Blizzard.” “Really?” Scribble asked, glaring at Trixie. “Yep,” Velvet replied, giggling. “As if I was that obsessed with playing soccer.” Trixie took a sharp breath through her teeth. From the tone of Velvet’s voice, she genuinely didn’t care about being kicked out of the soccer club. However, she could be that good at acting, couldn’t she? “Open your locker,” Trixie demanded. “What?” both of the girls exclaimed in unison. “You know what Trixie said,” she replied firmly, turning to Velvet. “Open your locker.” “I have zero obligation to do that!” Velvet retorted. “You are a suspect of kidnapping, so prove your innocence!” “Velvet already told you that she has other responsibilities.” Scribble positioned herself between them. “Scribble, stop defending me every single time!” Velvet responded, pushing the small girl away. “I stood up for myself against Rainbow! I can do it against Trixie too!” “You didn’t deserve to be kicked out!” Scribble yelled. Trixie raised an eyebrow as she closely watched Scribble's expression. This was the rage she searched for, the motive for someone to steal Blizzard. It must have been her! Velvet sighed and placed her hand on Scribble’s shoulder. “I appreciate it, really, but we can’t do everything together.” “But I have no one else in the team! Everyone there dislikes and makes fun of me!” That erased any doubt Trixie had. Every piece fit nicely together, and the only thing left for Trixie was to find proof that Scribble was the culprit. “And you, Trixie,” Scribble said, “don’t even think that I stole that salamander! I don’t have it anywhere, neither in my locker nor at my home.” “Fine,” Trixie replied and walked away. After creating some distance, Trixie’s lips raised to a wide grin. Scribble had only revealed everything with her statement. “Miss Cheerilee, may I go to the toilet?” Trixie asked. “Of course,” Cheerilee replied. “Can Fuchsia come with me?”  It took a moment of consideration, but Cheerilee also allowed it. Based on Fuschia’s smirk, she already knew that Trixie had no intention of actually going to the toilet, so Trixie didn’t bother to explain it and went straight to her goal. “You know where Scribble’s locker is?” Fuchsia asked, who was already in the know. “Yes, it’s…” Trixie took a few more steps before stopping. “This one.” “How long will it take to lockpick it?” Trixie grinned as she produced a picklock. “Wanna bet?” “For what?” “You pay for me at the vending machine.” Fuchsia rubbed her chin. “Under five seconds, and I’ll buy you two peanut butter cracker packages.” “Challenge accepted!” Trixie put her lockpick back into her pocket, took out a set of cards and slammed it on the lock, opening it instantly. Fuchsia scuffed. “Really?” “Locks only keep honest people out,” Trixie replied as she opened the locker. “Especially those at school.” The locker couldn’t be any more generic: only school books and a jacket were in it, and the bell schedule and some unimportant photos were glued on the door. Trixie looked at the bottom and saw a cardboard box, which, when opened, only revealed some costumes. “That’s it?” Trixie asked, kicking the box in frustration. “Why would Scribble store these ugly costumes anyway?” “She’s in the drama club,” Fuchsia explained, taking a closer look at the inside of the locker herself. “I expected that you’d know this if you were suspicious of her. It would be another explanation for her knowing about the stage’s hatch.” “Too bad nothing in here leads to that stupid salamander!” Trixie complained, walking in circles. “How can I prove my innocence if I can’t find him?” “Well, I did warn you that you wouldn’t find Blizzard in the school.” “It’s not about finding him, it’s about finding anything else,” Trixie replied, stopping in her pace and staring at a random poster on the wall. For an advertisement for the art club, the designers didn’t care for any symmetry. “Scribble has reasons to steal Blizzard, but it doesn’t make any sense for her to not follow up somehow.” “Like what?” “Like writing a blackmail letter or a ransom note to Rainbow. The return of the salamander in exchange for Velvet reentering the soccer team.” Trixie turned her gaze to Fuchsia, who was rubbing her chin. “That seems to make sense,” Fuchsia said, “but wouldn’t have Rainbow gotten that letter already?” “What do I know,” Trixie sighed. “Close that locker; we’ve been out way too long.” “You sure?” Fuchsia asked, to Trixie’s surprise, and pointed inside the locker. “Because this might be exactly what you’ve been searching for.” Trixie followed the gesture, and her jaw dropped. When she’d kicked the box, the back wall of the locker had popped off, revealing that it was only leaning in place, and from the opened gap Trixie saw a piece of paper with glued letters—probably from some newspaper. She reached for it and read the message, which contained exactly what she had been looking for. Crossing her arms, Trixie watched closely as Principal Celestia examined the proof, looking forward to seeing her regret at punishing an innocent student. Lavender and Fuchsia sat beside her, the former looking a little uncomfortable and anxious. “And where did you find it?” Celestia asked, barely changing her unreadable expression to Trixie’s annoyance. “In her locker,” Trixie explained and pointed to her right. “Fuchsia can confirm it.” “So you broke into another student’s locker?” “It was necessary!” Trixie exclaimed, getting frustrated at Celestia’s unimportant counter-questions. “You want to give me detention for Scribble’s crime!” “Your situation would’ve been easier if you didn’t run away with the box containing Blizzard,” Celestia responded calmly, placing her arms on the desk and looking Trixie in her eyes. Trixie pounded her fist on the desk. “Trixie told you this already: A magician never reveals her secrets!” “Trust me,” Fuchsia intervened, “Trixie takes the magician’s codex very seriously, no matter what.” “Even we don’t know how every trick works,” Lavender added. “Still, that makes her my main suspect in this case,” Celestia said, her voice too calm for Trixie’s liking, and took out a magazine from a pile on her desk. “And regarding the evidence you gave me, I would like you to explain this to me.” Trixie’s eyes widened as she saw the title of the magazine. “That’s ‘The Hoovedine’s News’, the most famous magician’s news journal! I always wanted to—” Celestia opened the magazine, which revealed several letters cut out from its pages. Trixie didn’t know how to respond to that sight. She was not only shocked that someone would damage this precious magazine she’d always wanted to have, but also of the dawning realisation that Celestia accused her of planting the evidence against Scribble by herself. “A student gave it to me,” Celestia added. “They found it in one of the hallway’s dustbins.” “But why would Trixie throw it away in school?” Fuchsia asked. “That would be idiotic.” “Besides,” Trixie added, taking the magazine in her hands and looking through the pages, “Trixie would never ruin this artefact! Do you know how expensive their monthly subscription is?” She looked up, chuckling nervously. “Not that Trixie can’t afford it, of course. She definitely can! In fact, she could throw one away easily if she doesn’t need one anymore!” Upon seeing Celestia’s raising her eyebrow, Trixie lowered her face and sighed. “I’m making it worse, aren’t I?” “Who even found that magazine?” Fuchsia asked. “If you ask me, this looks like someone trying to show Trixie in a bad light.” Trixie turned to Fuchsia, mouthing a silent “what?”, but Fuchsia wasn’t looking at her and continued, “I know that it wasn’t Trixie, as she hadn’t even seen the message until I showed it to her.” It was difficult for Trixie to contain her burning question of what “bad light” was supposed to mean. She heard of bad lighting from photography, but no one was photographing her. Celestia didn’t reply, and just before Trixie turned to her, she saw Fuchsia tilting her head. Seeing Celestia’s expression, she saw that it had changed slightly—was she pressing her lips together? And why was she looking to the side? “Well—” “It was me,” Lavender interrupted Celestia, standing up. “I found the magazine and gave it to Celestia. I…” Lavender took a deep breath and turned to Trixie. “My sister told me you’re capable of these kinds of actions, and when I found it, I really thought that it was you.” Trixie’s jaw dropped. How could Lavender, her assistant and friend, think so poorly of her? Not that Trixie wouldn’t consider planting evidence if it were necessary, but still! “So we’re back to zero,” Fuchsia sighed. “At least we know that this case is aimed solely against Trixie.” “Not only against her,” Trixie added, stomping with her foot, “but also The Hoovedine’s News!” “I doubt that it goes this far,” Fuchsia replied with a groan. Trixie knew that Fuchsia was correct, but she nonetheless crossed her arms and raised her face up in the air. An attack against her was also an attack on the magician’s community, after all! “In any case, I’m going to talk to Scribble and Velvet about Blizzard,” Celestia said. “But as for you three, I demand that you stop breaking into other student’s privacy, even if you have fair suspicion against them. If necessary, I could check them out myself, but you’d have to provide me with a good reason.” “Does it mean that Trixie won’t get detention anymore?” Trixie asked. “No,” Celestia replied firmly. “Our deal still stands.” “But you agree that this magazine is proof that someone is defaming the Great and Powerful Trixie’s name?” Celestia looked in Trixie’s eyes, who couldn’t take the awkwardness she felt during that and raised her view to the Principal’s forehead. The lack of an immediate reply made Trixie nervous. “I might consider it,” Celestia finally responded to Trixie’s relief. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” Trixie shook her head and Celestia dismissed them. Outside in the hallway, the school bell rang, signalling the next lesson. “Ugh, maths,” Fuchsia complained. “Gotta go, you know how punctual Doodle is.” “See you soon,” Lavender replied and was also about to leave, but Trixie moved in her way. “We need to check your sister’s locker.” Lavender stepped back, raising her hands. “Do you think that…?” Trixie nodded. “It makes perfect sense.” “But you said that with Scribble too.” “That’s because I didn’t know about the magazine!” Trixie replied.  “But Celestia said—” “I know what she said,” Trixie groaned. “But it’s nothing more than us not liking each other, so I doubt she’d consider it a ‘good reason’. Do you know where her locker is?” Lavender exhaled, but nodded and led Trixie to it. This had to be it. Trixie was tired of running after false suspects; one of them had to finally be it! Opening Cloudy’s locker, there was nothing but sport costumes and a net of soccer balls. “Nothing,” Lavender commented. “What a relief.” “One moment,” Trixie muttered and pushed the back wall of the locker. It moved, but as soon as it did, silverfish crawled away. A lot of silverfish. “Bleugh.” Trixie quickly closed the locker. “This school absolutely needs pest control.” Trixie’s anxiety was only getting worse. It made her long for the days when the worst she had to deal with was waiting at the line in the cafeteria. Now she had to be on the search for any sign who might be resenting her. She knew what hateful expressions looked like, but she couldn’t find any. Who hated her? Why would anyone go so far as to destroy the magician community’s most popular magazine?  Out of the line and sitting next to Fuchsia, as Lavender’d had her lunch break earlier today, Trixie kept looking around. Everyone chatted normally with everyone else; there were no cunning stares aimed at her. At this rate, she would surely get another detention! “You should tell Lavender,” Fuchsia said, taking Trixie by surprise. “What?” Trixie asked, turning her gaze to Fuchsia. “You know what I mean,” Fuchsia replied and pointed with her finger at her face. She then made several expressions. Trixie groaned, rolling her eyes and turning her gaze to her tray. Couldn’t this wait? She was solving a defamation case! “This is serious, Trixie,” Fuchsia added. Trixie didn’t reply, not knowing what to say anyway. She also saw how four grains of rice on her plate were aligned perfectly in a straight line—which was of course barely related to the current topic, but it was a detail too rare to not notice. “She thinks you hate her.” Raising her eyebrow, Trixie turned her face back to Fuchsia. “What? Why?” “You ran off immediately after visiting her,” Fuchsia explained. “From what she told me, she showed you her room and you immediately forced her to lead you to her sister.” “Well, yes. I visited her because she’d asked me to for months now, and I also wanted to question her sister regarding the soccer club. You know, killing two birds with one stone.” Fuchsia smirked. “Trixie using expressions? What happened?” Trixie groaned. “Just tell me what I did wrong in her eyes.” “You did not visit her.” Trixie turned her gaze back to her food. “I did. I was in her room.” “You don’t visit someone for less than a minute!” Fuchsia said, her voice louder this time. “I highly doubt you’d not know this despite—” “She said me leaving was fine,” Trixie quickly interrupted her. Fuchsia brought a hand to her face, sighing. “You could tell her you’d punch her and she would turn her cheek to you. You know that she’s way too polite and won’t say anything that she thinks is not comfortable for the other person. That’s my job.” Trixie scoffed and stuffed her mouth with her food. Everything sounded true, and she hated that she couldn’t deny it. She should’ve listened to her intuition back then; she knew that not everyone was as direct as her. “Can’t I just apologise to her and tell I was too occupied with this case?” Trixie asked. “No.” Fuchsia’s voice was serious. “She’s had these doubts for a while now, and her sister feeds them too. If you don’t come clear with how you feel, she will take it as you distancing yourself from her or even just using her for your magic show.” Trixie gulped. “How do I tell her? I’ve never done this before.” “Be honest,” Fuchsia replied. “If anyone is empathetic and understanding, it’s her.” Anticipation of an upcoming doom was always the worst. Trixie’s dread settled somewhere in her stomach as she waited for Lavender to pass the entrance door to leave the school—the sewing club was supposed to end just after Trixie’s detention. She couldn’t even distract her thoughts with the salamander case, as at this point she couldn’t even speculate who might be the culprit.  How she wished that Fuchsia was wrong about Lavender, but this was obviously not true. Why was she dreading this conversation so much anyway? Did she fear that Lavender would treat her differently? Once she saw Lavender, she approached her. “Hey, wanna go home together?” She did her best to sound casual. Lavender looked at Trixie for a second, her expression too subtle for Trixie to understand, before she gave a soft smile. “Sure.” Trixie didn’t say anything for a while. She didn’t know what to do anyway except to go straight to the topic, which she couldn’t mention until they had some privacy outside. Lavender was silent too, which was, once Trixie noticed it, not part of her usual behaviour—she was always able to start her small-talk and ask questions to keep the conversation going. Trixie used this silence to take short glances at Lavender, but she couldn’t read anything from her face besides the lack of a smile, and that was also unusual for her. Fuchsia was more than right. This was urgent. Who knew if Lavender had already decided to ditch her? “Hey, um,” Trixie broke the silence, not knowing how to begin. “Can we talk?” “Is this regarding my sister?” Lavender asked. “Don’t worry, I’ll search through her room during her soccer training.” Trixie sighed. “Not exactly that. I, um, it’s—” She jumped in surprise when she felt a hand being put on her shoulder. For a short moment, Trixie could see the widened eyes, the opened mouth, the fear in Lavender’s expression. Then, her face became expressionless again as she moved her hand back to herself. Trixie gritted her teeth. Why was it so difficult? Why couldn’t she just say it? From what was she so scared? Looking down to the ground, Trixie sighed. She had to do it no matter what. “Lavender, have you noticed anything strange about me?” There was no reply, and Trixie didn’t look up, so she continued. “Have you seen how I can’t keep eye contact? It’s… overwhelming sometimes. As a performer, I’m supposed to understand peoples’ faces, but too often they all look the same.” She raised her head. Lavender’s expression had changed slightly. Maybe she was listening with interest, maybe she was disappointed. Trixie couldn’t tell anyway, so she looked to the side. “It’s like a magic trick that fools me. Others can simply tell what the emotion is supposed to be, while I need to look and analyse certain features first.” “Can I hug you?” Trixie looked in surprise at Lavender’s face, where she could see a weak smile. “Huh?” “Just once,” Lavender begged. “You already hugged me yesterday!” Trixie retorted. “And what does that have to do with what I’m talking about?” Within a moment, Lavender spread her arms and had Trixie locked in a tight hug. “Let go of me!” Trixie demanded as she fought with all her might to get free, but with no success. “What’s gotten into you?” “Alright, alright,” Lavender chuckled softly as she let go. “Sorry. I like to comfort people this way.” “Well, Trixie doesn’t like hugs!” Trixie declared and crossed her arms. “And you and your clingy hands are always upon her. Stop it!” “You also don’t like being touched,” Lavender said as she grinned. “Anything else?” Trixie blinked. This was the Lavender she had met at first, all caring and always with a smile. But why? What changed? “Maybe also your repetitiveness?” Lavender asked as she raised her fist in the air. “The Great and Powerful Trixie!” Trixie scuffed. “These are titles that I deserve!” Then it dawned upon her. “Did you just say repetitiveness?” “Let’s also not forget your limited but very focused interests,” Lavender added. “Including you oversharing by giving me a whole monologue lecture about stage magic when we first met.” “But… Did you always know I have Asperger’s syndrome?” Trixie asked. There it was, spoken in words. It went through Trixie’s lips unintentionally, but it was still a relief to reveal it. “I didn’t. I got it once you told me about facial expressions,” Lavender replied. “And then everything else fitted together like puzzle pieces.” Trixie could only stare at Lavender with her mouth open. While she was glad that Lavender figured it out already, there was a burning question in her mind. “How do you know about autism?” “It’s called autism spectrum disorder,” Lavender chuckled. “And, technically speaking, Asperger's syndrome is not considered to be stand-alone anymore and is part of the spectrum.” Trixie waved with her hand. “Who cares? And you didn’t answer my question!” “Right. My cousin has it, so I taught myself about it.” Lavender sighed. “But I still don’t get how I didn’t see it sooner.” “Don’t be sad about it,” Trixie replied, grinning. “Trixie is just too Great and Powerful!” Lavender laughed, and Trixie joined her. Everything had gone far better than Trixie had ever anticipated. They continued their path, and this time, Trixie was relaxed, even when they didn’t talk. She was sure that, while Lavender now knew why Trixie acted how she did, her friend still had to process it. But still, why hadn’t she told Lavender it sooner? It was such a relief knowing that her friend would understand her much better. Hadn’t she made it more difficult for herself? “When were you diagnosed?” Lavender asked, breaking the silence. “Um, I wasn’t,” Trixie responded, not bothering to turn her gaze to Lavender anymore. “Fuchsia asked me if I had it two years ago, and once she explained to me what it was, I denied it at first. However, the more I read about it, the more,” Trixie scratched her chin, looking for the right words, “it made sense?” “So it’s self-diagnosed?” Trixie shrugged. “I guess. All I know is that I finally understood why I always seemed to be a foreigner speaking a different language.” “I see.” For a moment, there was silence between them again, but it didn’t last long. “I assume you don’t like coming over at all, do you?” Trixie bit her lip. Of course this question had to come up; it made perfect sense with being the catalyst of this conversation. “I don’t see a reason why I should come over. It’s a local division of who I meet where, you know? I don’t have to expect surprises this way.” “But if I invited you and Fuchsia to come over for the weekend tomorrow, would you still accept it?” Trixie turned her gaze to Lavender. This didn’t seem like a joke, and Lavender gave a wide—probably nervous—smile. “Please! My parents will be out this weekend, and we’ve never had a sleepover, you know? I’ve always wanted to have one since childhood!” Trixie sighed. “Fine. But just so you know, this doesn’t mean you can visit my house.” “Of course!” Lavender stretched her arms out and was about to hug Trixie, but stopped and returned to her position, chuckling nervously. “Sorry.” “Don’t worry about it,” Trixie replied and stretched out her fist, which Lavender bumped with hers. Trixie had never been to a sleepover, and recalling how they went in stories made her wish to cancel it immediately. If this in any way involved gossiping, playing truth and dare or discussing topics like crushes, she’d leave on the spot—no matter how angry Lavender would be! Thankfully, her research indicated that it didn’t have to be like that, so she hoped for the best. Before she left her house, she checked the list that Fuchsia had sent her, including the final sentence: dont worry, youll like it i promise (; The message would have given Trixie much more comfort if any punctuation and capitalisation rules had been applied—including not mirroring the smiley face, which Trixie knew Fuchsia had done intentionally to annoy her—but it did its job. Fuchsia’s father picked her up in his car, and while he and Fuchsia talked with each other, Trixie sat silently in the backseat, looking out of the window. Sure, she couldn’t completely ignore the conversation that was going on, but her mind still wandered to other things, like how Blizzard still remained lost. Just where was that salamander? Did, at the end of the day, some eco-student steal it for animal freedom and release him? But why then the magazine to make it appear as if Trixie planted fake evidence? It wasn’t Cloudy, as Lavender had searched her sister’s room thoroughly and found no trace of him. Trixie grunted quietly. This case frustrated her more and more, and while Trixie didn’t like getting detention, the fact that she would get more despite being innocent infuriated her even more. When she’d ever find the culprit, she’d make sure they got twice—no, seven times the punishment she would have to go through! But seeing Lavender’s house, Trixie shook her head to calm down her thoughts. She promised herself to not mention the salamander case during the visit. Besides, a break from it was much needed anyway. “So I’m like: ‘Your mum!’, and he went all silent,” Fuchsia said, her mouth full of crisps that she munched loudly. “That wasn’t nice,” Lavender replied, a bowl with fruits cut into small pieces sitting before her. “Nice or not, that moron deserved it for not being able to lose to a girl.” “He never likes to lose; it’s not because you’re a girl.” Fuchsia shrugged and took a sip of her soda. Meanwhile, Trixie laid silently on a comfortable pillow that might as well have been considered a couch with its size. With how cosy it was and how easily one could lay down on it, she considered buying one for herself—even if she had barely any free space in her room with all her magic utensils lying around. She listened to their conversation, but she didn’t have anything to add to it so far, so she examined the photos on the desk in the meantime. They were mostly photos of Lavender and Cloudy as young children, but one photo stood out to her. In itself, the photo wasn’t that well shot, but Trixie remembered it being the very first selfie Lavender took with Trixie and Fuchsia. How long ago was it, two years? Time passed way too quickly. “But honestly, I don’t like these sports games at all,” Lavender said. “Everyone takes them so seriously, as if their lives depend on it. Can’t we just play for fun?” “You don’t get it,” Fuchsia replied, throwing her now empty bag away and opening a new one. “Taking it seriously is the fun part. When you jump straight into a pole hard enough to fracture your skull, that’s when you know it’s the real deal!” Lavender shuddered. “It’s just a game. Everyone will forget it the moment it ends; crushing your skull goes too far.” “Gosh, Lav’, that’s why no one wants you on their team.” “I’m just saying.” Were the photos sorted by date? Trixie assumed as much, as Lavender got older in them from left to right. But what system was used to decide which photo went to the top or the bottom? Maybe per month? “Anyway, Trixie,” Fuchsia said as she stretched her arms. “Mind passing me another can?” Trixie nodded, took out a can from a box next to her and threw it to Fuchsia. “Not gonna lie, I like this sleepover. I imagined it being much worse.” “I’m so glad to hear it!” Lavender smiled, clapping her hands. “I was so worried about messing it up for anyone.” “Told you y’all overthink it,” Fuchsia replied. “We’re good company at school, so why would it be anything else?” “It’s not the same,” Lavender said. “As the host, I had to plan this sleepover and also consider how to make it comfortable—” “Lav’,” Fuchsia interrupted her, “just relax. What do you think would happen? Us following a schedule you made up?” “Not planning anything sounds awful though,” Trixie responded, glancing at the shelf with the books. “I mean, if you look at my magic shows, there—” “Gotta stop you right there,” Fuchsia said. Trixie furrowed her eyebrows. “And why?” “Once you start talking about your magic tricks, your mouth becomes a Möbius strip of words.” Trixie scratched her chin, trying to visualise this metaphor. It was a funny imagery—which could also be taken as an insult, but she had known Fuchsia long enough to know that she was always exaggerating.  “It’s figurative,” Lavender explained. “Basically, it means—” “I know what it means,” Trixie retorted immediately. “You don’t have to spoon-feed me everything.” “Sorry,” Lavender chuckled, scratching the back of her head. “You looked a little lost.” Trixie sighed and sunk her head deeper into the pillow, staring at the ceiling. Maybe she indeed looked lost, or Lavender knew that autistic people might have difficulties understanding figurative language. Sure, Trixie certainly had taken expressions literally, but she knew of the concept of idioms and only had problems whenever she heard one for the first time. Would Lavender change her way of speaking from now on? Was that something Trixie wanted? In the end, she wanted Lavender to treat her not like a dull child, but like any other human being—no, like a close friend. A phone ringing ripped Trixie from her thoughts. “What’s that?” Fuchsia asked. “A reminder,” Lavender explained, turning the alarm off. “I planned for us to watch a movie at ten.” Fuchsia slapped her forehead. “What did I just say about making a schedule?” “It was just in case,” Lavender responded with a nervous chuckle. “Besides, I feel like watching a movie anyway, don’t you agree?” “I’m with you,” Trixie replied. “The ceiling is a boring TV.” “I won’t mind,” Fuchsia said. “So, what movies do you have?” “Um,” Lavender stood up as she walked to her laptop. “I thought of watching one on a streaming service. Does anyone have any suggestions?” “Trixie has several,” Trixie immediately responded, sitting up. “I would suggest—” “Ugh, no magician stuff, please,” Fuchsia moaned. “I had enough after practising our performances.” Trixie scoffed, but recalling the months of them perfecting their stage act, she could understand Fuchsia. While her friends had interest in magic shows, theirs was nowhere near to Trixie’s love for it. “Maybe something animated?” Lavender suggested. “I liked the new one with the mermaids.” “Nah, we need something scary,” Fuchsia replied, putting on a wide grin. Trixie felt the creeps crawling over her back, knowing exactly what she was going to suggest. “Scary?” Lavender asked. “I’m not a big fan of horror.” “Oh, Lav’,” Fuchsia chuckled. “You’re missing out. There is nothing better for a sleepover than everyone covering themselves under a blanket in fear after watching a horror movie. Maybe even all hugging each other.” Fuchsia wiggled her eyebrows at Trixie, who scoffed in return. “Hm, what do you suggest?” Lavender asked. Trixie stood up. “Don’t you dare suggest—” “—The Screaming Trees!” Fuchsia yelled, raising her hands in the air. Her evil grin was so big that Trixie could see her every single tooth. “No!” Trixie shouted. “We won’t watch that abomination!” “It’s the best movie ever created!” Fuchsia retorted, pointing her finger at Trixie. “You’re just too dumb to see how it’s a masterpiece of art!” “Too dumb?” Trixie yelled. “If there is someone dumb, it’s the stupid humans in the movie residing near that forest!” “Maybe dumb, but logical.” “There is nothing logical about moving next to a forest that screams the whole night!” “I’ve told you multiple times: it happened during a famine, and the forest was the only place with a river not harmed by the drought. Humans have resided throughout history where food is.” Trixie was about to respond, but a sudden realisation silenced her. Humans residing where food is—it’s also applicable to animals! “Um, are you serious with your suggestion, Fuchsia?” Lavender asked, rubbing her arms. “I’ve heard… many bad comments about it.” “They clearly have no taste,” Fuchsia said, waving her hand. “They call it unnecessary gore, I call it absurd humour.” “Is it scary?” “It's a comedy for me, but Trixie couldn’t sleep for days after we watched it. Just look at her now, still in shock from even mentioning it.” Lavender walked in front of Trixie, waving her hand before her face. “Are you alright?” “I know where Blizzard is,” Trixie muttered.