The Girl I Knew

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I was ten years old when I first met Trixie Mattel, and even back then she was unlike anyone I had ever met. A natural brunette who was desperate to bleach it blonde, already then wanting to look like the Barbie dolls she'd bring in her backpack. She was a Spelling Bee champion, a straight A student, and had just gotten the lead in the school musical.

I had just to moved to Milwaukee at the time because my dads had bought a bar there. I never quite understood why they suddenly decided to leave their old jobs to buy a bar, but my family have always been great believers in following your heart, no matter where it takes you, so I didn't question it.

"You have to love your work so you'll still be motivated to keep going when you're jobless, Katya." They used to tell me, and I do believe there's truth to that.

The most dangerous thing we can do, in my opinion, is to define ourselves solely by our successes. If you spend your whole life worrying about reaching the top, then you'll never get to enjoy the view.

I think that point of view was exactly why Trixie hated me so much. Well, she didn't hate me at first. Honestly, I don't think she even knew I existed, but I was okay with that. I'd just admire her many talents from my safe little spot in the back corner of the classroom, make little sketches of her in my notebooks when I should've been paying attention to what the teacher was saying. I didn't know why I paid so much attention to her at the time, but it wouldn't take long before realization finally struck me.

Puberty hit me once I reached the age of fourteen, mostly in the form of blemishes and temper tantrums. My boobs did also come eventually but they developed painfully slow, and even now I'm not quite sure they've fully arrived. With Trixie however, puberty hit her like lightning overnight. One day she was a cute kid, and the next she was a young woman.  Her boobs arrived quicker and larger than anyone else's in the whole grade, something the boys of course made sure she knew. The girls naturally responded with jealousy, starting rumors that she had gotten plastic surgery. All of it would have been more than enough for anyone to break down.

Somehow though, Trixie seemed unaffected. She kept running towards her goals, always moving forward at a pace where no one could keep up with her. And so their words died down eventually. It's not fun to harass someone who doesn't pay attention to it. My eyes would not leave her though. I was hooked, mesmerized, bewitched by the girl sitting in the front row, slowly coming to terms with the fact that I was bisexual and also head over heels in love with Trixie Mattel.

It wouldn't be until senior year that I had an actual conversation with her though. By then I had turned cool, found my crowd. They were all artsy, all uninterested in school and all obsessed with pushing the boundaries of the law. I got a bike, started smoking, colored my hair black, and was designing my own tattoos, which I had plans to get done as soon as I turned eighteen.

Trixie had finally gotten to bleach her hair, truly looking like a Barbie doll come to life. She was student body president and captain of the debate team, in addition she stayed behind every day to study and to prepare for her audition at Juilliard. 

I hadn't meant to stay behind that day, I was only supposed to pick up a jacket I had forgotten, but then I heard a voice singing.

"You either work the land or the fiberglass plant in town
You maybe got out or you never did settle down
With the lord's prayer said and the winter came
And the ice and wind on the Interstate
Never was lost and you never knew what you'd found" 

"Who's song is that?" I asked, shocking Trixie so much that she almost fell off her chair.

"Oh my god! Do you want me to smash my guitar?" She yelled out, just barely catching the instrument before it hit the floor.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. It just... It sounded good. I don't really like live music, but I liked that."

"You don't like live music? Who doesn't like live music?" Trixie asked as if it was the most unbelievable thing she'd ever heard.

"Just not my thing I guess... You're good though." 

"Thank you... The song is mine by the way, like.. I wrote it, but it's really not that good. That song isn't ever gonna get me anywhere, it's way too simple... No one's gonna be handing out awards for that one." 

"Who cares if it gets an award or not? Isn't the point that you created something, put your heart into it?" I asked her.

"Wouldn't expect you to say that..."

"Why not?" 

"Well, you're not exactly the one who puts your heart into working on anything." Trixie replied as she tuned her guitar.

"Oh wow... well, I don't really think you know me well enough to judge me like that." I said, feeling myself get annoyed.

"I don't have to know you. All I have to do is know your lack of attendance, lack of turning in projects, and lack of paying attention in class to know that you know nothing about what truly matters in life." She told me.

"Trixie, if you think that school is what truly matters in life then you seriously need to start living. Go to a party, go hiking, spend a whole day just walking around town, or hitchhike to Chicago and spend the day there." 

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather keep to my idea of living. You can go and ruin your life, and I'll stay here and create a bright future for myself." Trixie said. 

"Fine, message received...I'll leave. But one day, Trixie, one day you'll wake up and realize that you've spent all your life rushing towards your next goal, and not a second on enjoying what you've achieved." 

The Top Of The Mountain ✔️~ trixyaWhere stories live. Discover now