Page 55 of Hilarina and the Ogre

The face paint got fucked to hell after another session in the bathroom. “It still sort of looks like a tiger,” Trenton said once they were adjusting themselves in front of the mirror.

“One on the losing end of a fight, maybe.”

He ended up washing it off, though he made Trenton keep his, even though he looked more like a green billiard ball than an ogre. They were making a final circuit around the event (looking for anything good they might have missed) when someone called out to them. When he saw who it was, Hilary’s chest filled with dread.

Seth was dressed in a clown suit in front of the sign, Hit the target, win a prize.

“I didn’t know you were a target, Mr. Goldshine,” he said, hoping a smile was the appropriate choice.

Seth laughed. “Ask my wife—or rather, don’t ask her. She’ll kill me. How have you been? You’ve been scarce lately. Are scholarship applications so strenuous these days?”

Time seemed to stop, but only for him. Trenton was unaffected. “We finished those last month.”

“Then we’ll be seeing you around more, won’t we! Now that finals are over. You know, the first night of Chanukah is tomorrow. I was hoping—”

“Sir.” It was hard to speak. His surprise was still interfering. “Sir, that’s not—I’m not with her anymore.”

For the first time since the conversation had begun, Seth seemed perplexed. “What do you mean? It’s only temporary, right?”

“No, it’s—we broke up.”

Seth was thoroughly confused. “What are you talking about?”

It was impressive, really. It seemed that even without him, Varda had managed to keep the pretense going. Punishing him only for the sake of punishing, not because she was really being affected by it at all. If not for this chance meeting—and she thought she’d taken care of that, hadn’t she? With the Liquid Ass. If it had kept them at home, just how much longer could she have kept the deception going?

He tasted copper as he spoke the next words. “We broke up the night of the Halloween party.”

Seth was beginning to be upset. “If this is about the necklace—”

“Yes, it’s about the necklace,” Trenton said, the full weight of those eyes coming online. “The necklace she destroyed when she was up in the art room with Axel Marlin, ruining herself and whatever chances she had with Hilary.”

“Axel?” And if Seth had an issue with being spoken to so sharply, it was subsumed as his own anger crackled to life. “She’s with that bastard again?”

“I don’t think she ever stopped.” And Hilary knew—he knew what he was doing. It wasn’t surprise anymore. It was revenge. For the backpacks and the textbooks and the near-hospital visit. For making Trenton cry and be shaved bald and for calling him a Whale that very first day in the studio. Hilary put on a wistful kind of face, a delicate balance of uncertainty and heartbreak. “It’s a little embarrassing, but I was the last to find out. In hindsight, it was obvious, but I guess I just wanted it enough to pretend.” He made his lip tremble a little and hoped it didn’t look stupid. “I thought she was the one.”

Too much? It might have been, though Seth had already stopped hearing him. “That bastard.” The man’s skin was growing mottled; his hands clenched into fists. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill that piece of shit.”

Hilary ducked his head and made an apology—or half of one. Trenton was already pulling him away.

“Why did you say that?” Trenton was visibly upset, nothing at all flat about his expression. “Did you really think she was—"

“Of course not. I couldn’t stand her.”

“Then why—"

“I figure he’ll ground her for life now. Keep her on a tighter leash. In the best case, it limits her ability to fuck with us, but even if it just means she has a shitty winter break because of it, I’ll be satisfied.”

“I won’t,” Trenton said, still mulish. “I wish she’d disappear.”

Hilary hadn’t meant to tank Trenton’s mood like that, and set himself fully to the task of raising it back up again. They didn’t stick around at the event after that, but went home. It was the right call. He could feel Trenton unclenching the further they got from the scene. Or maybe that was just the power of the Christmas tree. They got the ornaments down from the closet (the first time being unpacked since the move) and listened to The Hogfather while they made popcorn garlands, progress slowing whenever they got to a good part in the story, and also because Trenton kept having to get up to make more popcorn because someone kept eating it all. They cut apart some cheap polyester throw pillows Annette thought hideous and used the stuffing around the base of the tree along with some silver glitter for that extra touch of magic.

“Don’t bother hanging the candy canes,” Albert said when he came home and found them hard at work. “Hilary will have eaten them within the week.”

“I will not,” he huffed, a confidence he could feel only because Annette had bought an extra box of candy for that very reason.

Every day after that became Wednesday, and it was magic. They weren’t doing anything particularly exciting. No skiing trips or flights to Europe. Nothing they’d be able to brag about once they were back at school—and that was the magic part. Because even on the days they just puttered about the house doing chores and studying were so nice, Hilary was rapidly reorganizing his preconceived notions of the good life. The implications of which were so extreme he entered a sort of identity crisis.

“Trent?”