Disclaimer : These characters do not belong to me, I’m only borrowing them
Author’s Note: A while ago I decided two of my MCs (Faye from BB and Tillie from TF) would be sisters, of sorts. Since then I’ve had a ridiculous amount of headcanons for them, particularly about their relationship growing up. This was born out of one such headcanon, regarding the early stages of their relationship when they were both not quite teenagers.
Summary: A young Faye finally breaks her foster sister’s overly-nice shell. But when Tillie doesn’t react as expected, Faye finds herself even more intrigued.
Tonight was the night, I could feel it in my gut. Well, not my actual gut- any strange feelings in there I blamed on the surprisingly spicy venison burrito Louisa, my latest foster mom, served for dinner. No, this feeling came from deep inside, probably somewhere in my head really- my head-gut? Well, wherever this supposed ‘gut’ was everyone always talked about having feelings from, mine was telling me tonight all my effort would finally pay off.
Of course, I’d thought the same thing every night for the past week just as strongly, only to be disappointed. But still, something about tonight seemed different.
Finally, after nearly three weeks of daily teasing, I would get Tillie to crack.
When she’d shyly introduced herself on the first day, offering me her hand to shake and flashing a polite smile all while looking terrified I might devour her, I couldn’t help but dislike her. She was just so…good. Everything her parents told her to do, she did without complaint. At school, well let’s just say I’m pretty if she ever got called to the principal’s office for something bad her perfect little head might actually explode from fear.
And she was so nice to me- always standing to give me her seat in the recliner or offering to grab me a soda if she was going to the kitchen anyways. I mean, who did that?
It’s not like we would ever be friends, if that’s what she was going for. I didn’t make friends, not anymore.
Not that I’d be here long enough anyways. I never was.
But that didn’t matter. I didn’t need friends, not really. I’d survived twelve years on this planet without any, none that stuck at least, and I liked to think I was doing just fine. One little Mother Teresa wanna-be wasn’t going to change that.
But I knew there was more to her than her perfectly pretty self. There was ugliness inside her somewhere. Everyone had it in them- I’d learned that lesson too many times.
And tonight I would finally get to see a new side to my precious foster sister.
Right as the younger girl attempted to sneak past me in the narrow hallway, I opened the door to my current bedroom and let out a deeply disgusted sigh. “UGH. Still looks like someone barfed strawberry milk all over the walls.”
Tillie’s nostrils flared as usual, but it was the clenched fists and twitching left eye which sparked a sly half-smirk to form on my lips.
Yep, this was it. She was wearing thin. One more comment and she’d finally fall off her stupid little pedestal. But it had to be the perfect one…
“Who likes pink anymore anyways? Not me. I’m not a baby.”
Her face turned almost as red as my hair, her mouth twisting into something between a scowl and a pout.
Yes! This was it! Success!
“Stop it! Just… just… SHUT UP! I’m not a baby! I can like pink if I want to! It…it doesn’t matter what you think. It was my room first!” Tillie said, her voice raised but not quite yelling. Her dark eyes burned with frustration and I swore I could see steam rising from the top of her head.
My grin stretched upwards into a wide sneering smile.
“Yeah. It was. So, go run downstairs to your parents.” I spat the word out like it was a bitter brussel sprout on my tongue. “Go whine to them like the little baby you are. Tell them how the mean foster kid picked on you. Make them feel bad so they give you back the room they made you give up just for me. Come on, you know you want to. Little baby Tilda.” There was venom in my tone but I didn’t care. I needed to see just how far I could draw this little experiment out.
I expected tears, or yelling, or her whining to the adults downstairs. What I didn’t expect was for all expression to vanish from her face, closing me off from any reactions to my words.
“No. I won’t do it. I’m not a baby.” Her voice was surprisingly steady, and more sure than I’d ever heard it before. Though the briefest glint of hesitation which passed over her eyes told me her resolve might not hold out for long. Maybe if I pushed a little more…
“And no one made me give you my room. I offered to give it up. Thought you might like it better than the little one next to my parent’s room. You’re welcome.” And then she was gone, padding down the hallway to her room without looking back.
Stunned, I moved into the Pepto-Bismol pink room, closing and locking the door behind me before flopping down onto the bed. A strange mix of disappointment and longing washed over me. Sure she had reacted but… not how I figured. Not how I wanted. The rage was great of course- everything I could have hoped for. But then she’d shut me out, denying me anything more and leaving me wanting, before showing she might have a smidgen of a spine after all.
And what she’d said, the reality of it, soured my stomach. She’d given up her room willingly! Of course she had. I should have figured as much. She was even more of a goody-goody than I could have dreamed.
But why? Did she pity me? Maybe… probably. Or was she just that stupidly nice?
Ugh. She was so infuriating.
And at the same time… kinda intriguing. Was it possible I underestimated her?
Done with thinking about anything for a while I switched on the clock radio on the nightstand, my mind and muscles relaxing as soon as the air filled with the steady banging of drums and wailing electric guitar riffs.
Tillie was not who I thought she was, that much was certain, and she still rubbed me the wrong way. But there was something about her, something I couldn’t quite name, that made me want to know more. And darn it all, I was going to figure her out, one way or another.
Though, whether this family would keep me around long enough to do so was another story.
-The End
