This story was such a joy to write, and I'm pretty happy with it! I got the idea from an episode of That 70s Show, if you've seen it, it's the one where Hyde takes Jackie to Prom. I took the idea, but I made it different so I hope I did it justice. I hope to any that read enjoy it as much as I did writing it!
I'm also in the midst of writing a multiple chapter story focusing on Buttercup and Boomer, but other characters get spotlight as well! I'm really hoping it will turn out good enough to put up!
Now, let's move on with the Disclaimer: I do not own the Powerpuff Girls or anything affiliated with them what-so-ever. Please enjoy!
Bright, ice blue eyes that were known to hold bundles of joy and glee were glaring, for lack of a better term, daggers.
She sat all in childlike jealousy, pouting a little even, as she watched the scene unfold in front of her.
Is he really doing this right now? Like, in front of me?
Granted, the boy that was engrossed in a very heated make-out session with a girl Bubbles, (the one scornfully glaring), didn't find it fitting to know who she was. And although she didn't even know this girl's first name, or what she looked like with Boomer so predominantly eating her face off practically, she hated her guts.
She literally wanted to pounce like a lioness and rip the limbs off her, one by one.
Then again, that would get her no where. So she just sat there and continued to glare, as if she could blast the girl's brain like a laser with just a look.
"Bubbles, I asked if you were going to Prom."
Bubbles jumped.
Looking around the room, she realized she forgot it was packed with four other people.
"Oh, uh, no. Totally wish I could, but I'm going to Disney World. It was a surprise, from my dad." She lied straight threw her teeth, hoping that Blossom, the one who had asked her that humiliating question, would believe it and get back to sweet talking her boyfriend, Brick.
"Yeah, I'd pick an amusement park crowded with tourists and ten hour waiting lines over the cliché high school dance too." Buttercup quipped from the other corner of the room as she was poorly captivated by her phone. "Then again, I'd take anything over that demeaning three hours of tasteless music and horny couples."
Blossom scoffed, feeling the need to tug on her boyfriend's arm as if she were offending them both. "I'll have you know I've been nominated for Prom Queen, and those are my subjects you're talking about."
Everyone rolled their eyes, Bubbles even think she saw Boomer come up for air to roll his eyes at the prideful redhead too.
"Sorry I won't be there to bask in your glory, your highness." Buttercup sarcastically remarked.
The two never really got along, except for the occasional- oh wait, there was no occasion. They've also stood on each other's toes. It was a wonder they were even friends at this point.
"Am I seriously the only one who's going to prom?" Blossom ignored Buttercup's comment, looking around.
Brick, who held her uncomfortably in his lap rolled his eyes. "Forgetting something." He deadpanned, and instinctively Blossom whacked his chest with the back of her hand.
"I'm going, but just as the drummer who's playing with the band." Bubbles' eyes flew to Boomer, who just spoke the line. Wait, wasn't there a girl sucking face with him a second ago? "Rachel's insistent on coming without a date."
So that's who that girl was. And where did she-
A stick of a body plopped itself in Boomer's lap, flicking it's obnoxiously fire truck red hair over her shoulder. "Maybe I can sneak you away for a dance or two." She flirtatiously nudges him, smirking.
Bubbles narrowed her eyes. That really should be her, cutely kicking her legs as she snuggles into Boomer.
But no. He had to go and do something so stupid and she just had to dump him.
Was it pathetic she'd take him back in a heartbeat? Even if she found him behind the bleachers with another girl…twice?
Why did he have to be so…so infectious. Everything about him, his looks, his charm, his award winning smile. She was so smitten! She was supposed to be infuriated by him, she was supposed to hate him, not mindlessly begging him to come back to her for another chance.
"No, I'm not going." A gruff voice sounded, pulling Bubbles out of her humiliating thoughts. She peered over. It was Butch, sitting all tough-like with crossed arms and a stoically emotionless face as he watched the TV.
Someone apparently asked him if he too, was going to attend Prom.
Prom.
Bubbles so desperately wanted to go. For weeks, since her split up with the golden-haired pretty boy, she's been hauling out excuses like flyers.
"Nope, going to a big movie premiere in LA…Fashion shoot in New York…My uncle is getting married in Australia." And more where that came from.
She wasn't going to admit to anybody she'd only go to prom with Boomer, but he hadn't asked her.
And of course, she's been asked by plenty of qualified guys.
They just weren't good enough at the moment.
But right now? She'd take any offer, really. Again, she was that desperate. How could you miss out on Senior Prom?
Everyone was already paired up though, or plainly not going to Prom at all. And she wasn't going to embarrass herself anymore and actually ask someone. No, she couldn't just beg.
"Well, I gotta get Rachel home. See you guys tomorrow night, then." Boomer flashed a smile before ushering his leech out the door.
For once, Bubbles could breath. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding her breath, suffocating herself.
"Yeah, I should head upstairs to bed too. Want to be prepared for tomorrow." Blossom jumped to her feet, pulling Brick to his own without consent. This was her house everyone convened in, so Brick walking her up the stairs and kissing her goodnight was a daily routine.
"Mind if I crash in the guest room?" Buttercup yawned, stretching.
"Nah, Professor's not home, um, Butch, Bubbles- you guys can stay over if you want." Blossom offered.
It was the game room of the house, on the basement level, that became some sort of lair or base of operations since this group of misfits was created.
"No, I really should get home. wouldn't want to be tired for my trip tomorrow." Bubbles forced a light chuckle, getting up from her seat.
"Well, offer still stands." and Blossom then tugged her boyfriend along, Buttercup following behind.
Bubbles waited until she could softly hear footsteps above, before throwing herself back into her chair and letting out a muffled scream into a pillow. Or more like a jealous cry.
"Someone's not happy." Butch commented with an aloof and bored tone.
She dropped the pillow, narrowing her blue orbs of color at him, almost murderously. She never liked Butch, out of this pool of friends, this was the one person she wasn't friends with. They hardly ever talked, and since he didn't go out of his way to befriend her, she wasn't going to make an effort either.
He was cold, brutish, pessimistic, and blunt.
She was bubbly, warm, optimistic, and sweet.
She paled. She wasn't acting like her usually giddy self, and it finally dawned on her. She was being this big childish, jealous ball of ferocious anger.
Instantly, she dropped her sour mood, and the feeling of breaking down and crying flooded over her. Sucking in a breath, she scolded herself to not let the pipes burst yet. She could wait until she was secluded and isolated in her cozy room. Where the only ones to see her cry were her collection of stuffed animals that aligned her walls and decorated her bed.
"So, why aren't you going to prom?" She sniffled, for some reason snot was becoming more evidence that she was about to cry.
"Going to Disney World." He answered, eyes still on the TV, not even a smirk laced on his face.
Her eyes widened. He knew. How did he know? Is he a mind reader? Did he catch her lying act?
"I…" Words were whirling around her head. How was she supposed to respond to that?
"You do realize unblinking death glares directed across the room for thirty minutes straight can be quite obvious, right?" He's rubbing it in her face now. He wouldn't even look away from that stupid TV to do it! And when did he become so observant?
"Fine." She gritted, her eyes burned and she could feel the tears brimming her eyelids, waiting to race down her face any minute now. "I'm jealous, okay? I've been waiting around like a helpless fool for him to come around and ask me, but he never did! And now I turned down anyone who asked me to prom! I've sabotaged my own Senior Prom, so stop rubbing it in my face!" She croaked, slinging the pillow so it make harsh contact with his face.
He didn't even turn when he instinctively caught it, releasing it. Now he was looking at her.
"What's the big deal about Prom anyway?" He sneered. He looked annoyed, and Bubbles was surprised at the untamed aura of his character right now. He never was this…passionate? Was that the right word?
She didn't know, it probably wasn't, but she didn't waste time to find a new one. He was still looking at her with her piercing, vibrant green eyes, the same ones that never gave her the time of day, and a hint of a scowl etched in his face.
Bubbles sighed. "I don't know." She honestly answered. There wasn't any way she could explain why prom was such an important factor to her. It just was. "I just want to go."
He was now back to watching the TV. Her eyes flickered to the screen find some humorless commercial.
"Then go." His voice was back to that normal, monotone familiarity she was used to. Any spark that was strangely there a minute ago was diminished.
She was up, out of her usual seat, "Do you know how humiliating it's going to be when I show up without a date?" She huffed, falling into the cushion directly next to where Butch was.
Her thoughts traveled back to the fact she promised herself she wasn't going to beg for a date. She looked from the corner of her eyes to take a peek at Butch and his stony cold expression.
He's not going, which means he doesn't have a date.
A light bulb went off. "W-will you go with me?" She asked, ever so hesitantly.
She could tell it caught him off guard, he flinched at the question, and paused with eyes more wide than usual.
"No." He monotones.
She was crushed. Here was her last hope. Her dam broke, and those tears were hotly pouring down her face. "You don't have a date, I don't, can't you do me one favor?" Her voice was surprisingly un-shaky, but I guess the whole crying thing hadn't kicked in yet.
"I don't like you, so no." He answered again.
That did it. She burst into a watery and snotty mess, falling into his lap while she gushed.
"Just cause you're crying doesn't mean I'll change my mind." His voice sounded irritated, but she continued to wail.
It'd be a miracle if Blossom or Buttercup failed to hear her.
"Bubbles, stop. Get off of me, I'm not going to take you to prom." He demanded harshly. He was mad and so, so annoyed. That was painstakingly obvious, but she no longer cared, and continued to pour like a waterfall into his jeans. She didn't even care to notice this was the first time he's said her name.
"Fine!" He griped. "I'll take you, just shut up!"
Bubbles whimpered, sniffling and wiping her face as she pulled herself off of him, looking at his glaring gaze. "R-really?" She hiccupped, sniffling again.
He took deep breaths. "Yeah, I'll take you, just don't cry anymore. It's annoying." He complained, his voice back to that calm melodic tone.
"What changed your mind?" Blossom asked as she curled Bubbles' golden locks with her curling wand. Unbeknownst to Blossom, Bubbles did end up taking the offer to stay over. Once Butch left, Bubbles dug through a closet for a blanket and curled up on the couch.
"Dad was called back into work." Bubbles played a disappointed sigh.
"Sorry about that."
Bubbles shrugged. It was no big deal of course, she wasn't going to the magical land that is Disney anyway.
But at least she'd get to experience prom. Even if she was going with a pessimistic rock practically. That is, when he wasn't lashing out with uncontrolled emotions that is. She vaguely wondered why he hid those away with a lock and key, but dismissed it when Blossom's voice sounded.
"Voila!" She presented, pulling back the wand and allowing Bubbles to finally see the finished result of the multiple hours of prepping.
Dress, shoes, jewelry, make-up, hair. It was all finally finished and now she could look over and admire it.
Was one allowed to be speechless with their own reflection, or is that too shallow and narcissist?
Her dress. It was floor length and strapless. It had a sweet-heart neckline, and it was glittery and silky. Tight on top, like a corset almost, and flowed from the hips after. It was a shining powder moonlight blue, and it had a gigantic sash at the waist that tied into an overly huge bow that sat on her bum.
Her shoes were silver platform pumps with an ankle strap. She also had pearl earrings with a matching layered pearl necklace and abundance of bracelets.
Her lips shimmered with pearl pink lip gloss, her cheeks flushed with a soft pink sparkly blush. Glittery eye shadow, both the color of her dress that morphed into a dark grey to give it the smokey-eye trend. Topped off with mascara.
Her golden tresses were all curled to cute coils, pinned up with pearl beads in a fancy up-do that Bubbles didn't have a word for.
"Stop staring at yourself, you know you look good, all thanks to me of course." Blossom smirked, putting an arm around her shoulders and making eye contact with her in the mirror. "Just don't steal my spotlight, loyal subject." She playfully warned, but a threat was implied.
Blossom wouldn't be Blossom if she didn't succumb to all the attention everyone gave her. Bubbles rolled her eyes and giggled at her friend, she always let little things go to her head.
"Let's go take pictures, okay?" Yes, Blossom was already prim and primed from head to toe with her thick sultry auburn waves, pink blush colored mermaid style one shoulder dress that hugged her voluptuous figure perfectly. Clad in silver stilettos and matching bangles of course.
They left Bubbles' room, (Bubbles snuck back to her house at early dawn), to go downstairs where Buttercup impatiently waited.
"I thought you weren't going, Buttercup." Bubbles mentioned, looking at the raven-haired teen. For the kind of person she was, being dressed in a black leather mini-skirt and green razorback with combat boots and a face full of make-up meant she dressed up for something.
"Nope. Mitch and the guys are coming to pick me up so we can go check out this underground club, gonna go hear some fresh groups." She corrected.
"Since when do you get dressed up for some underground club?" Bubbles continued to pester, a smirk on her face.
Buttercup rolled her eyes. "What? I can't dress up for my boyfriend now?" She was referring to Mitch, the two were always so on and off, akin to a light switch, Bubbles gave up trying to see where they were at now.
"When did you and Mitch get back together?" Blossom butt herself into the conversation.
"Doesn't matter." Buttercup scoffed, already annoyed with this conversation.
"Whatever." Blossom began again. "Mind taking some pictures?"
Buttercup reluctantly agreed, taking single photos before pulling all three of them together for wacky selfies until the door bell rang, revealing Mitch standing with a corsage and Buttercup bolting from the scene.
Blossom and I laughed as he finally had her in his grasp, buckling her into his car while she spurred nasty phrases at him.
"See you at prom!" Blossom waved, still snickering, just as Brick pulled up. "Brick!" Her mood inflated as she dashed over to him and he swept her up.
Bubbles rolled her eyes at the two. They act like they haven't seen each other for years, Brick came by earlier to have lunch with them! But hey, that's your typical perfect couple.
"Butch should be over any minute." Bubbles was snapped back into reality, Brick standing in front of her. It was so…unsettling seeing him without his tattered red baseball cap he wore on a daily basis since kindergarten.
"Cool-"
"Butch is taking you to prom?!" Blossom suddenly screeched.
Did Bubbles not mention this to Blossom earlier? Obviously not since she seemed so shocked about it now.
"As friends." Bubbles strongly clarified. She didn't want this certain redhead to assume anything. After this whole deal was over with, Bubbles could forget this ever happened. She was still coming to terms with the fact Butch is taking her to prom.
It's utterly embarrassing how desperate she was for a date, she had to stoop to him. She practically begged! She was just happy that no one saw her break down moment besides him, because she could careless what Butch thought of her. His opinion didn't matter to her what-so-ever.
Before Blossom could utter another word though, Brick came in to save the day, pulling her away to his car. "See you later, Bubbs!" He grinned, comically shoving a still flabbergasted Blossom into the passenger seat.
She waved at the flashy red Mustang as it pulled out of her drive way and wheeled away.
All she needed to do now was wait for her date.
She shuddered. Can she even call him that? Butch her date? It's so unnatural.
The overbearing sound of an engine cut her thoughts, and she frowned. She knew that sound.
Spinning around, she found Butch, clad in a sleek black tux, actually looking surprisingly good, but…and here it comes…in a motorcycle helmet. Why? Because he was driving a motorcycle.
He did not expect her to ride this thing to prom, did he? How inconsiderate was he?
"Hey." He greeted, slipping off his helmet and walking towards her.
She couldn't deny he looked good, like, really good, but that didn't cushion the fact he drove a motorcycle over to pick her up.
Her eyes were dangerously narrowed. "Hi." she spat, almost venomously. She was beginning to regret crying into him last night.
He suddenly pulled something from behind him, and realized he got her a corsage.
"Here." he offered.
It was a simple white assortment, with glittering details, and she took it. A wave off forgiveness washed over her, and she didn't feel the need to be angry anymore. "Thanks, it's…it is really pretty. You seriously didn't have to."
He shrugged as she slipped it on, it was a bit loose, but she didn't mind. The gesture was so surprisingly sweet. She looked up, and met his mossy eyes. "Really, thanks." She felt her cheeks burn slightly, and she was thankful for the implied blush on her cheeks masking her actual real one.
"Uh…you look real nice." He complimented, sounding a bit unsure of what to say.
She giggled. "Thanks, you aren't looking so bad yourself."
"So, wanna get going? You can use my helmet." She was brought back to the reality at the fact he was going to drive her on that infernal transportation device.
"I'm not riding that thing. It'll ruin my hair, make-up, and most likely my dress too. We'll just use my dads car." She beckoned him to follow, leading him to the garage where a silver Ford would be waiting patiently.
Except it wasn't there, and she remembered her dad was actually out of town right now.
She looked at the time.
Prom started half an hour ago, there was still plenty of time, but why even bother at this point? She was trying so hard to go, obviously this wasn't happening. She was getting frustrated again, and she clamped her eyes shut as to not allow tears to start flowing out.
"I'm done." She'd given up. "You're free to go, it's useless even trying." She sighed, kicking off her heels and leaving them on the concrete garage floor. "You can show yourself out."
Sitting in front of her vanity, she felt defeated.
Moments after she retreated up to her bedroom, Butch's motorcycle could be heard being brought back to life, then it's motored sound diminishing as it pulled away in the distance.
She could've called Blossom or Brick, maybe even Buttercup.
But she was done.
Maybe on Monday she could float on a lie about sneaking into some exclusive concert when Butch stood her up or something. Yeah, something like that could work.
The gown she once donned so beautifully was thrown onto her bed. She shed every last piece of jewelry she wore, and picked at the pins in her hair letting the coils fall around her clumsily.
Now in a blue cami, black volleyball shorts, and snug in an oversized tribal cardigan sweater, she glared at her pretty reflection in the mirror. She had a wet wipe, ready to attack the make-up that graced her face, when ever-so-suddenly, melodic music erupted from out of no where.
"Huh?" She lifted from her plush stool and backpedaled until she reached her window, eyes widening to see Butch still in a tux, cradling a portable I-Pod dock that played a slow dance tune.
Since when did he download that type of music? And why had she not heard his obnoxious motorcycle roar through the street?
She unlatched her window, pulling it up and sticking her head out. "What are you doing?"
"Are you going to make me stand out here like some loser, or are you gonna come down and get your stupid prom dance?" He yelled back to her.
He seemed mad, a bit peeved, and his usual stoic expression was tucked away with a new fiery and sarcastic one. She bit her lip so she wouldn't grin. She actually liked him when he was like this., or at least preferred him this way.
Retreating from the window, she didn't even think of throwing the dress back on.
She scampered down the stairs, through the living room, and right outside barefoot and all.
The speaker dock was now set up on a lone stone that sat in the front décor before the porch.
Her hands were on her hips as she approached him, a bit cautiously, but hiding excitement. "Why?" She single-wordily questioned.
Why did he go through the trouble? She was sure he didn't like her (he admitted to that last night), and in fact, she was sure he hated her. They weren't friends. This was the most they've ever said syllables to each other, and they've known each other for years.
His hands were held out. "Just take my damn hands and shut up." He snarled ever so bitterly, but Bubbles enjoyed that. Him biting back at her showed he had a bit of spirit, and he wasn't an emotionless drone she depicted him to be.
She did as told, and soon they swayed together with the music.
None spoke a word, and she focused on the trees behind him, not at his pretty green eyes or face or any part of him.
"Thanks." She suddenly blurted.
He shifted uncomfortably for a second, she could feel that, but he grunted in response.
Her eyes flickered to his, and he was slumped back in that careless demeanor that she hated. That's why she hated him, because he was so aloof and didn't care about anything. And the fact he didn't like her, how could you like someone who hates you?
When he unattractively lashed out every once in a while, she'd grin. It's happened before, but he always returned to his un-amused and unaffected expressions.
"Why do you do that?" She asked, irritated.
His eyes that were focused on nothing had darted to her own icy blue commanding ones. "Like what?"
She sighed frustrated. How could he be this dense? "Act like nothing affects you. You're always so…serious. Why so serious?"
Anyone else would've grinned, heck, Bubbles even grinned when she realized what she just said.
But he didn't. His lips didn't even twitch to a smirk.
When no response came, she continued. "You don't have to play Batman, you know." Still, he was un-amused, and she rolled her eyes, pulling away from him.
Crossing her arms and cocking her hip to her side, she jutted her head towards him. "Why'd you come here? Obviously not to sweep my off my feet." She snarkly commented.
He growled. Wait, growled?
Throwing his hands to his head, he ran his fingers through his hair and huffed in frustration. "I have no idea, alright! I just…I just felt like I needed to!" He admitted.
"But why? You don't like me, you hate me. You didn't want to go with me, you only agreed so I would stop being the blubbering baby I was being!"
In the background, sweet songs continued to play, and Bubbles tuned them out.
For once, Butch actually looked at Bubbles with sincere confusion. "You thought I hated you?" He questioned. "Well, well you hate me!" He fired back at her.
"Because you hate me!" She retorted, stomping like a child. "So don't deny it, because you do hate me! That's why we've barely talked and never done anything together, even though we've known each other since elementary."
She was breathing heavily, that sensation of crying wanted to take over, but she stubbornly refused. It was so easy to be mad at him instead. Plus, he's seen her cry once, she wasn't about to do that again.
"I don't." He narrows his eyes at her. Why was he even trying with her? In all honesty, she seemed bummed out, and he just wanted to put a smile back on her pretty face, because without it there she just wasn't her. And he didn't hate her. Why'd she ever get the notion he hated her. "I was trying to be- you know what, never mind. I've had enough."
But he doesn't budge.
She's still breathing heavily, glaring at him just as threatening as when she had been last night, although that heated stare was towards Boomer instead.
Then, but then, she softens. Her eyes widen, and her breathing becomes rhythmically quiet again, her arms uncrossing even. "I'm sorry." Realizing she wasn't acting like herself. She hated that, in all honesty she despised it when she acted like this.
His own eyes widen, matching hers, and his heart speeds up a bit. What the hell? Stop doing that! He ordered, but it betrays him, and continues to thump rapidly against his chest.
"I'm sorry for yelling, and everything else I should be sorry for." She sighs a hefty sigh, closing her eyes for a short period.
The music, a different song of course, was still playing, and she held out her hands. "May I have this dance?" She asks cutely.
His only answer is taking her hand, and placing his other at her waist. He was subconsciously pulling them closer, but you know, whatever. They were just dancing in the moonlight, no big deal.
"We really haven't talked, like, ever though." Bubbles points out. She looking straight into his face, trying to make eye contact, but his eyes fly everywhere except to meet her own. "You aren't that bad, maybe we should-"
"Just because I said I don't hate you, doesn't mean I don't find you highly annoying, blue." Butch cut her off as they slowly spun in the driveway. "Don't start thinking we're all buddy-buddy."
The snarky comment makes Bubbles giggle, and finally he looks down at her. "Not yet, anyway. You coming back totally implies you want to be best friends." She smirks.
"No it doesn't!" He practically hisses, and he swears she's snickering now. "And you better not tell anyone about this either, blue-"
"So that's why you two weren't there!" A new voice pipes up, and both jump back, practically flying away from each other to get as much distance in between.
It was Brick, standing between his car and car door with arms crossed on the hood of the Mustang. He was smirking at the two. "Blossom wanted me to come down to see if everything's all right." He mused. "And what do you know, you two are dancing out in the moonlight. How romantic." He playfully kids.
The two are still too shocked to reply, and Brick snickers. "Well, get in. Blossom wants you two there for her coronation." The word slips out of his mouth sarcastically. "Well?"
Bubbles, still barefoot, glides over to the car, claiming shotgun, while Butch abandons his I-Pod and doc station for the back seat.
She was finally at prom, of course, this was not how she imagined it, at all.
Everyone gave her looks as she walked through the crowd, barefooted and in spandex shorts, towing Butch by hand.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could even see the drummer, ahem, Boomer, eye her confused.
"Bubbles! What happened, are you- what are you wearing?" Blossom gushed as the three found Blossom, still crownless, gaping at Bubbles' ridiculous attire.
"Bloss, you should've seen these two. Moonlight, dancing, just the two of them-" Brick earned himself a jab from Butch, who still was practically holding hands with Bubbles, both unaware.
"Shut up." He hissed, and Brick winced as he rubbed the damage done.
Blossom only eyed the two suspiciously, opening her mouth to say something just as the speakers flared.
"And now, TS-Ville High, it's time to announce your Prom King and Queen!" Blossom excitedly grabbed Brick's hand, squeezing it with enthusiasm.
"Your Prom King…" There was a drum roll. "Brick Johnson!" A roar of applause filled the room, and Brick yanked himself out of Blossom's grasp so he could stroll on up to the stage.
These things were give ins, no one should be surprised about Brick and Blossom winning these titles.
"And for your Prom Queen…" The drum roll drawled a bit more, everyone could careless about the king. He was just an accessory to whoever won Queen.
Blossom was readying herself, about to gracefully walk up the steps for when her name would be called.
"Buttercup Nium!" It was an even louder applause, with gasps coming all around, and Blossom paled.
"What!" She shook her head. "But, but how! Buttercup? She wasn't even running!" Blossom screamed.
Suddenly, Mitch and another boy were successfully pulling a kicking and screaming Buttercup onto the stage. "No! Let go of me! You are sooooooo dead, Mitch Michelson!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, along with a list of profanities, of course.
The crown was forced onto her head, but she flung it across the room, allowing the crowd to fight over the ceremonial piece of plastic. The music started up again, and no one even asked for the traditional King and Queen dance.
Brick came over to steal the still confused and rather angry Blossom for a dance.
"Well, that was fun." Bubbles tugged her hand, finally realizing it was still intertwined with Butch's own. She yanked it away, embarrassed. "So, what now?"
Butch heaved a sigh, looking over at all the couples on the dance floor. At this point, he no longer cared, he was getting a bit tired and restless, and these songs were making him sick. "Do you wanna dance or what?" He questioned.
Bubbles smirked at him. "You know, now that I'm here, living it up at senior prom," She said it with a hint of sarcasm. "I'm not finding it all that, amazingly amazing as I'd hoped."
This was a one lifetime thing, a pivotal moment. Bubbles dearly wished she had a camera, or at least her phone.
Butch, the guy that had a permanent expressionless face, to never show any emotion, smirked. Infinitely, Bubbles brightened, it was something so little that made her want to grin, she had to bite her lip to stop. "I pocketed Brick's keys." He dangled the car keys, smirking even more.
Bubbles grabbed his hand and hurriedly rushed both of them out, into the Mustang.
...
They were back on the driveway just as fast as they'd left, miraculously, Butch's I-Pod hadn't been stolen, but this isn't a bad neighborhood anyway, and it was playing more lively music. Bubbles smiled at that.
No longer were they slow dancing together either, no. That was traded in for laying on the concrete, tiredly looking up at the night sky because both were done with petty prom dances.
Bubbles insisted they hang out more, because she decided she no longer wanted to hate him. They wasn't a reason to now, and he wasn't generally a boring person.
And as they genuinely talked about things, she didn't find her mind drifting to Boomer, and how she desperately wanted him back, because right now, she didn't. Not now, at least. She was distracted and could careless he was off with some random skank. Rhea, was her name, right?
Whatever, it didn't matter, because Bubbles learned that Butch had more than a stony exterior. She learned he loved action movies (but who doesn't?), butter pecan ice cream, and kick boxing. Oh, and dogs, he had one black lab named Mojo. And although his eyes were this magnificent and alluring green, he hated the color and preferred purple.
That's cool, though, because purple went with his eyes anyway.
Thanks a million for reading, and if you choose to review it's sooooooo much appreciated, I promise you! So hope you enjoyed and it totally didn't suck as a story. Hope it wasn't too long either, I didn't think I'd write much into it. Oh well! Thanks again for any that have read!