POV: Rix, the third
Date: May 28, 1997
Time: 8:00 PM

I'm a reasonable girl.

I like creamy cold sugary food. I like to wear clothes that make me feel pretty. I like soft pillows, pretty flowers, and cute animals. And like any other reasonable girl, if what I'm reading is boring as fuck, I'm going to stop reading it and promptly fall asleep. And so that's what I did. I fell asleep and sat there, sleeping, as the rest of the house went about their business without me. It's just Rix sleeping on the couch again. Nothing to worry about.

Cause it isn't something to worry about. I do this a lot. Just this time, you'd think someone would have the presence of mind to wake me up before leaving. Because when I woke up, Madine was gone, Melany was gone, and John and Mary were asleep in their room. Well, they were in their room. It doesn't sound like sleep in there.

That's all well and good, but why would they go and have sexy fun times while I'm still in the house. Let alone while Lillin is still here, face down on one of the desks. It looks like she cried herself to sleep. Well, when someone cries themselves to sleep, the best thing for them is to laugh them awake. No, I'm not gonna laugh at her. I'm gonna tickle that girl.

Reaching my tiger hands, optimal for tickling, in under her arms, I take a handful of her squishy sides and begin my assault. This should be classified as a war crime. The way she wails as she wakes up is just too good, and immediately she knows she's being tickled and not actually attacked, so the laughter follows soon after. She falls out of her chair, and she's got tears in her eyes and can't stop her giggly reaction even after I let up and get off her.

I crouch down next to where she's laying on the floor, trying to work up the energy to start feeling sorry for herself again before she shows me her face. She wants to be sad right now, I guess. Too bad, girl! You're gonna be cheered up even if I have to tape the corners of your mouth to your ears! Get up, lazy depression girl!

Lillin finally looks up at me once she's successfully produced a sad face. "Why?"

That's all you got for me? "Because you're not actually sad, that's why. People who aren't sad shouldn't pretend to be. There's no good reason to fake sadness when there's enough of it in the world already."

"But I am sad, Rix."

"Lies. You're not sad. Maybe annoyed, or frustrated even, but not sad. So why don't you tell me why you want to be sad, and we can figure out how to make you less upset." It's a fair deal, I think. She's locked up her happiness and I want to forge a key to unlock it. "Let me help."

She let out a sigh. She obviously doesn't want to for some reason. Either she is embarrassed to admit it, or she knows it's not worth all this. She's probably blowing it out of proportion just so she has something to feel sorry for herself for. That doesn't matter, though. I'll hear her out and give what advice I can. Not that there's much I can do with and IQ of 96. Or was it 69? Oh well, it's the thought that counts.

Sitting up and crossing her legs, she apparently decided to give me an answer. "There's this guy that I like, and he's been ignoring me. You happy now?"

I smell hidden information. I don't need to know what she's holding back to know that she's not telling me everything. I don't even need to know that to know what to tell her. "Maybe he doesn't like you in that way, and this is his way of telling you that." I think that makes sense.

"Gee, thanks."

She's really trying hard to be sad about it, but it doesn't seem like she's having an easy go of it cause, whoever she's been trying to attract, she knew they wouldn't show interest before she even started. It was doomed to fail, and she knows it, and she always knew it. So she's struggling to justify sadness to herself, which she can't do because there's nothing to be sad about.

I pat her shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll find someone eventually. Or you won't. But for now, the person you're meant to be with isn't here, or isn't ready. There's nothing that can be done about that, so don't let it bother you."

"That's easier said than done."

Eh, no it isn't. It's literally not doing something. That's the easiest thing in the world. "All you gotta do is just do it. That's not hard."

"Uh, yeah, it is."

Don't argue with me. Arguing with me makes you become less pretty at a young age. Scientifically proven fact. "Wrong. Just wrong." I grab her under the shoulders and pull her up onto her feet, patting her down to make sure she's still intact because John said I should be careful with my strength. "There are people who get a lot of things done really fast, and then there are people who say that that's weird and unnatural, but it isn't. It's natural that things get done when you just fucking do them. So, you wanna do the thing, or would you rather sit around and mope?"

"Honestly, I'd rather mope." Of course you would, and that's why you're a loser, Lillin. But a loser is only a loser so long as they aren't doing anything.

I put my arm around her and start to walk her towards the break room. "Come on, come on. Let me tell you about losers, Lillin. You probably don't know much about what it takes to be a loser, since you are one."

"You going somewhere with this?"

Of course I am. "You're a loser. Do you know why?"

"Because I lose?" She corrected herself. "Because I suck."

"Exactly!"

"I feel better already." Well, that's odd, considering the encouraging part comes later.

"You're a loser because you suck. You suck because you're not trying. That's what sucking is. Being a loser. Someone who doesn't try." This is where I expect her to push back, because people can take being told they suck, or that they're a loser. Nobody likes to be told they aren't even trying.

Just as expected. "But I am trying, I really am. How can I try any harder?"

The cold brick of truth to the face. "By stopping all this lying to yourself about how hard you're trying. Stop doing that, and instead start doing the thing for real. You're a loser because you aren't even trying, but you know what they call most people who try?"

"Not winners. I've seen enough sports to know there's only one winner and a whole lot of losers." Wrong again! Time to introduce a new concept to her young mind.

"Nuh uh. Well, yes, not winners. Any old race will show you there's one winner, but second place isn't a loser. Neither is twentieth. Those are called competitors. Because they tried, they tried their best, and they made it to the end. Competitors, Lillin! And you could become a competitor yourself. Maybe not a winner, since you're, you know... also not very good at anything, but that's a different matter. You could be a competitor, though. Anyone can be a competitor. All you have to do is put in actual effort."

"I guess that makes sense, in a weird tiger-girl sort of way. But what should I do in order to become a competitor?"

"Glad you asked!" I stop in front of the mini fridge and open it, taking out a pair of beer bottles. "Are you old enough to drink?"

"I'm nineteen."

"Well, that's called fuck it, nobody cares." I hand one of the bottles to her. "You're old enough nobody cares if your old enough. So, I'll tell you what you do. The first thing you gotta do is just stop letting things bother you."

She popped the cap off the bottle with the ease of someone who has done this before. "Okay, and you have any tips on how to do that?"

"Yup. Like I been saying, just fucking do it." I snap the cap off my bottle with my thumb. "Move on, and stop being bothered. That's all there is to it. No distractions, no meditation, no focus groups, just doing it."

"Well... okay, I'll try."

"There you go. Now just make sure it's the kind of trying where you actually do the thing and then it succeeds or fails. Not that inferior kind of trying where you make excuses because you'd rather live with the problem than be free of it." She made a face like I'd slapped her. I knew it. She intended to do the excuse kind of trying. "Come on, let me walk you home."

"But... but you're a tiger."

"This is still a free country, ain't it?"