Chapter 10: Pillow Talk

Charlie slowly died from boredom over the next three days.

The media was silent. Either the authorities had ordered them not to talk about the investigation anymore, or Charlie's kidnapping had simply become yesterday's news. It was possible something more interesting had grabbed the public's attention.

Either way, it brought Charlie's mood way down. She didn't like not being the center of attention.

Having nothing to do for three days was about to drive her stir crazy. Charlie wasn't used to staying in one place, let alone cooped up inside one place, and it was getting obvious that it didn't agree with her.

Beatrice was sitting in the corner like usual.  She was messing with some device and cursing every now and then very quietly. Occasionally she would even get mad and throw something against the wall— but that was about as exciting as it would get.

"You have any friends?" Charlie asked her.

"Not really." She said.

"No family either?" Charlie asked.

"Not anymore."

Charlie rolled over onto her stomach and rested her chin on her hand.

"Ever been in a relationship?"

"Nope."

"Really? Not even when you were like twelve or something?"

"I wasn't allowed to leave my room, let alone my house. I didn't have any way to make any super secret paramours." Beatrice said, sounding somewhat sullen.

"Couldn't you sneak out or something?" Charlie asked. "I mean, I managed to do it and my father had all kinds of crazy security in our main estate. I used to have my friend Harleigh hack the cameras so it looked like I was in bed.

Then I'd disable the motion sensors and the door alarms, and use this this thing Harleigh made to remotely turn them back on once I was outside!

... though I guess I did have that tracking device I never knew about, so he probably knew the whole time..."

Charlie's brow furrowed as she thought it through. She wondered if he just didn't care if she went out the whole time...

"I couldn't do that." Beatrice said. "My room didn't have any doors or windows. You were there."

Charlie winced and sat up a bit higher.

"So that was your childhood bedroom?"

Beatrice was quiet for a long while.

"Yeah."

"Couldn't you have just snapped in and out?" Charlie asked.

"My powers didn't come in until I was fifteen, and by then I had gotten away from there and I had more important things to worry about." Beatrice said.

She was still fiddling with that same device, but Charlie noticed the bitter edge her voice had. It wasn't like the usual annoyance she openly displayed at almost everything. It sounded more pained.

Maybe she feels like I'm bragging about how great my life is. Or maybe this is just something she doesn't like to talk about. I should probably change the subject.

"Do you want to build a pillow fort?!" Charlie asked, trying to keep her voice peppy. "We've got a lot of pillows and blankets!"

Beatrice looked at her like Charlie was playing some kind of cruel trick on her.

"Can't you stay focused on one thing for longer than a few minutes?"

"Well, my mom always thought I had ADHD but my dad would never let me get tested." Charlie said with a shrug.

"What? Why? Doesn't your family have like a billion dollars?"

"I dunno. He always used to say he didn't have weak genes or something like that." Charlie said.

"That sounds offensive." Beatrice said, wrinkling her nose.

"Yeah, well, sometimes people you love can be like that." Charlie said offhandedly. "Hey, Wait! Weren't we talking about building a pillow fort? Don't change the subject!"

"That would be a waste of time." Beatrice said.

"More of a waste of time than just waiting around for three days? I thought for sure we'd be in a super battle by now. This is boring. I'm bored!"

Beatrice heaved a hefty sigh and started to put her things away before standing up.

"Fine then. Let's build a pillow fort or whatever. "

And so they did. It was very strange for Charlie, because there wasn't much talking and Beatrice seemed not to know what to do. Charlie felt a little strange, instructing her.

Eventually, they got it done. A white sheet was hung in between the two beds, their bags serving as weights to keep it down. Charlie lined the bottom of it with pillows and crawled inside.

After about fifteen solid minutes of Charlie begging, Beatrice eventually begrudgingly agreed to get inside it with her.

They laid down, and for a while it was very quiet, and admittedly a little awkwardly, though Charlie tried to ignore it.

"I'm... not very good at talking to people." Beatrice said, eventually.

"You've said that before." Charlie said.

Beatrice made a sort of uncomfortable sounding noise, and Charlie could hear here shifting and squirming around beside her.

"But I feel like you don't understand the extent of it." Beatrice said.

Charlie turned onto her side to face her, but Beatrice's eyes were on the pillowy roof of their tent.

"You seemed pretty good at taking to me in the bar. As Veronica." Charlie said. And she meant it. It was like an entirely different person had been there.

"That's different." Beatrice said, glancing quickly over to her, before darting her dark eyes back to the roof. "I was pretending to be someone else. I was acting. It's not the same when I have to be myself."

"How?"

"It's just— it's like I know the words and the phrases to say, but they always come out wrong." Beatrice sighed and furrowed her barely visible eyebrows. "No, no. This is stupid. I'm being stupid right now."

"It's not stupid." Charlie said quietly.

She reached over, and grabbed Beatrice's hand. To her surprise, Beatrice didn't angrily pull it away. Instead, she gently squeezed it.

"Do you really feel like you don't have anyone who cares about you?" Charlie asked.

"I used to have someone." Beatrice said. "But they're gone now."

"They abandoned you?"

"No. They're dead." Beatrice said, somewhat flatly.

Charlie swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Beatrice said, though she didn't at all sound fine.

"You can talk to me." Charlie said, squeezing her hand.

"It's not your job to be my therapist." Beatrice said. "Nor do I want it to be your job."

"Yeah, But friends—"

The speech Charlie was about to give about love and friendship was interrupted by a knock on the door. Beatrice frowned.

"Didn't room service just come?"

"Yeah, a couple of hours ago." Charlie replied.

The knocking became louder and faster, and Charlie and Beatrice exchanges worried glances. Finally, it became all out pounding, and Beatrice hopped up.

"Shit. Shit." Charlie muttered under her breath as she crawled out of the fort and desperately tried to help Beatrice shove things into bags.

Beatrice abruptly stopped, and started to strip out of her clothes and change into her suit. Charlie flushed and looked away, her heart now pounding for two different reasons.

"Get the hoverboard ready." Beatrice said as she zipped herself up and slipped on her helmet. "You said you were bored, so I hope you're ready for some excitement."

Charlie gulped.