Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own pokémon. Wonder if there are any gymshippers left out there? Hope so. If you are, this one's for you!
This is an A/U, high school universe, at a pep rally. Nothing is specified beyond that.
She had been shoved up to the upper balcony with Ash which, in short, was ridiculous. They were juniors for God's sakes! Juniors! They shouldn't be sitting with the freshman in the back, the bad seats. Of course, it didn't put a damper on the freshmen's spirits, nor Ash's. They were up against the bars, leaning forward and watching the dance team fly across the floor and do a few provocative twists of their hips. They were pretty good, she had to admit, but being in the upper balcony wasn't exactly the high point of her day.
No, she wasn't happy, and it didn't help that Brock was sitting that close to Suzie. She couldn't bring herself to hate Suzie, not really, because the girl was sweet. She was always kind to Brock, ignored his perversion, was sweet to Ash and sweet to her. She never brought up Misty's older sisters or any of the rumors about him. The only bad thing Misty could think of, in fact, was that she just might have been too damn perfect. Suzie was a senior, just like Brock. Suzie had straight A's, just like the valedictorian Brock. Suzie was beautiful, just like Brock. Suzie and Brock wanted to open a wildlife rescue center and repopulate endangered species.
"Like a freaking freshman," Misty muttered, leaning her head on her hands. "A freshman! My life couldn't get any worse. I don't know how many years I spent trying to work my way up to the top, how my sophomore year was bent on putting the freshmen in their place, and my freshmen year was spent hiding from the upperclassmen. Now the seniors are too nice and we're not allowed to put the freshman in trashcans or put them in their place. Stupid freshmen. I should shove them off the balcony."
"Ooh, cranky," Ash said, plopping down beside her while the coach began to rant and announce names. "What's up with you this week? Menstruating or what?"
"It's not about that!" Misty snapped. "But, yes, if you must know, I am on my period and it's not really helping. You know how I have a crush on Brock and how he's with Suzie and how he'd never go for a girl like me and it sucks, right?"
"Wait, you like Brock?" Dawn asked, leaning forward eagerly. "Ohmigawd, nobody told me you had a crush on Brock! That's so cute!"
"Shut up, Dawn," Misty snapped. "Stupid freshman. I'm not a stupid freshman. Brock and I are almost the same age! Just two years apart and only one school year thanks to the messed up system. I mean, it's not the age difference. We could definitely be together. I just really, really want to be with him and he doesn't even know! You have it so much easier, Ash, you've already got a relationship going."
"And neither of us menstruate," Ash chirped, slinging an arm around her shoulder. "Misty, listen, I know things get tough but that's just the way things are. Brock is with Suzie and he's very, very happy. They're both thrilled to be together and are going to have wonderful lives, and when you go to college you'll find someone who loves you as much as he loves her. Everybody finds someone. Even uggos. Believe it or not, even the really, really ugly with all their flab find someone just as flabby as them. I still can't believe that Shane got a date before I did. He's five hundred pounds and he found a boyfriend before me. That's not fair."
"What's not fair is I'm the girl that all those stupid TV shows rant about. I've got, what, two, three friends tops? I do great in school. Kids ignore me. I'm the angry rebel. At some point, isn't there supposed to be some hot prince to come and save me? Knight in shining armor, cool kid, nerdy kid, vampire, werewolf, I don't care. At some point there's supposed to be a boy to come and sweep me off my feet. Whatever happened to that, Ash?"
"It's a dirty lie," he whispered. "Just like I'm supposed to be scared of being gay. I never was, Misty. I didn't meet Gary and his sexy body lured me out of the closet. There wasn't a bunch of obvious hints that everybody realized but me. I didn't look at men's underwear catalogues and wondered why I thought they were so hot. I knew, Misty, and I went out and dated. Just like you don't have a secret desire to fit in or be pretty. The books don't always tell the truth and movies never do."
"Why not?" she murmured. "It just isn't fair, Ash. I'm supposed to get something in the end. High school is supposed to suck but I'm supposed to get some sort of prize. I'm supposed to get a scholarship, publish a book, win a million dollars, something! My life has been nothing but crap. Nobody looks at me, nobody cares, and the boy I've been pining after has the perfect girlfriend who he's never going to want to leave. He wouldn't. Not for all the money in the world and not for me. Definitely not for me."
The music began blaring below, trumpets and things as the superfans began to race around, stripped down to their boxers, painted in school colors and the school's name spelled out across their chests. Everyone got to their feet, including Ash, and enthusiastically sent up a cheer. A cheer that, usually, Misty would have been the loudest one joining. A cheer that normally had her sprits raising, and this time was just enough to get her on her feet.
Then Brock ruined it, as usual. He walked over to his perfect girlfriend, her eyes shining, and he kissed her. The stadium went into cat calls and whistles as the little peck turned into a real kiss, arms wrapping around one another and frenching in front of the entire school. When he pulled away, her perfect face was flushed, and he gave her one last peck before running out onto the floor, pumping his fist in the air and joining in the dance.
"Shit," Ash mumbled, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Aw, shit, Misty. As if it wasn't bad enough. He doesn't know. I'm sure he wouldn't be doing this is he knew. He wouldn't talk about her in front of us or talk about how wonderful she is or anything. He's not like that, Misty. You know he isn't. He thinks that you think of him as an older brother, just like you used to. I can't blame him. You're really good at hiding it. You don't act any different now than you did last year."
"I've liked him since freshman year, Ash," she retorted. "Of course he couldn't tell the difference. Anything you guys noticed you wrote off to my period and puberty. Of course I couldn't be refusing to go anywhere alone with Brock because I liked him. No. It had to be some weird girl thing. Do you know how much that sucks? That it's so unbelievable to think that I could like Brock that neither of you even thought about it. You didn't even know until I told you last month!"
"You're good at hiding it," he argued weakly.
"Not anymore," she shook her head. "I'm sick of it. I'm sick of him doing this to me. If I let him know he'll slow it down. That's all I ask. I know I can't have him, but I don't want to constantly rubbed in my face. Every time we turn a corner they're there, making out. Whenever he talks it's about her. She tags along everywhere. I just can't get away from her! Freshman year she was my peer mentor. The sheer amount of time I have to deal with her is unreal!"
"So what are you going to do? March up and tell him?" Ash snorted.
"Why not?" she shot back. "Isn't that what you're supposed to do? Walk up and tell the person you like that you like them because it's better to have loved and lost and all that. I'd rather have him know than live my life like a coward and never be able to get over him."
The boy's eyes widened and he rapidly shook his head, black locks flying. "But you can't! Nobody actually does that! That's as stupid as the whole ignore the bullies and they'll go away. Sure, if it's a shitty bully. Generally they just hit you harder and harder until you finally break down and cry and then you get called a gay little pansy. They use worse words than that but, y'know, fresh meat behind us."
Misty sniffed, "I'm the type who does. I actually do what I say I'm going to. I'm the girl who stands up to jerks. I'm the type that fights to the end, who says what she wants. And I'm going to be the girl who tells Brock, the jock Brock that I have had a crush on him for the past couple of years, and if I didn't get that off my chest I would never get over him and have a horrible life. You know what he'll do? Tell me he doesn't feel the same. And I'll say I know and things will go back to normal. No drama. But I can't do it in front of Suzie. Can you get rid of Suzie?"
Ash winkled his nose. "If anyone else said that I'd feel like I was supposed to take them shopping or something. Somehow, when you say it, it makes me feel like I'm supposed to take a gun. You don't want me to use a gun, right? It's the shopping option."
"I don't need you to take her shopping Ash or assassinate her." She rolled her eyes. "All I need you to do it talk to her for five minutes while I take Brock aside, wish him luck in the game and proclaim my hopefully soon dying love. Simple as that. And, if he attempts to make a conversation out of it, I'll run and hide under the bleachers and hope when they push them back into the wall my death with be quick and not too terribly painful."
Ash nodded, sitting back as the freshmen began to file out. "Should we go now, or do you think Brock is going to stay afterwards?"
"Brock always stays until the end," Misty explained. "He likes to use the extra time to talk to Suzie and catch up with his football buddies. So, when the place is clear out, pull out Suzie to talk about make up or shopping or whatever it is you two hens talk about while I get my mission over with all ending, of course, with my immediate demise in the bleachers."
"I hope you don't die in the bleachers," Ash said encouragingly.
She nodded, and they waited for the place to clear out. Which it did, rather quickly. It was a Friday, however, so it was to be expected. Kids were racing for the bus and their lockers and their parents and cars so they could get home, get dressed, and drive back out for the game that night. Brock couldn't leave for home, but apparently wasn't too keen on getting dressed for the game quite yet or gathering up his school stuff. Instead, he wandered into the center with Suzie, arm around her waist, and began to chat.
The two jumped from their seats at that point and raced off. Ash shouted something about a fashion emergency while dragging off Suzie and Misty told Brock she had to talk to him. He said one second, and she punched his side. It was then that Brock realized that when Misty said she needed to talk to him, there was no dawdling allowed. She took his hand and dragged it to a corner, far away and out of sight thanks to the collapsible bleachers. It was the perfect place to talk. It was the perfect place to make out as well, but that was out of the question whenever the redhead was in the equation. He asked her what several times, but she didn't reply until she was sure they were safe.
"Brock," she said clearly. "Do me a favor and please, please, please shut up. I need to get this out now and I need to get it out fast without any interruptions." She cleared her throat. "Brock, I've had a major crush on you since freshman year. I know you're dating Suzie, and nothing good can ever come out of it, but if I didn't tell you now I'd never get over you."
Brock swallowed, looking around nervously. "Yeah, uh, I know."
"You know?" Misty fumed. "Then why are you putting me through the torture of this freaking thing? You're always making out with her and bringing her along and talking about her! Don't you think that fricken hurts when you do that?"
"I…I…" he stuttered. Then pressed his warm lips to hers, just for a moment. "The relationship started to get you jealous. I didn't even know that you liked me then but I suspected, and I wanted to get you to say it first, because I was afraid you…you're so jealous, and I knew if you liked me this would lure you out of hiding. But, a few months passed and Suzie and I didn't know when to break it off and…Suzie's fallen in love with me. I can't break it off after all we've been through. I can't stop for you, especially since my parents would be so pissed if I broke up with a straight A student, sporty girl for someone who didn't meet their ideals."
"So…" she said, dropping her eyes to the floor. "You really do love her."
"I love you," Brock muttered. "But I need to be with her. I don't have any other choice. Every person is special, Misty. Everyone is different, but when it comes down to it, history won't remember our names. We're junk people. We won't do anything special. If I'm with Suzie, and we work together? I just might be able to make the money I need to take care of my parents. The things we could invent would get enough cash to send back to my massive family. This isn't about love, Mist, it's politics pure and simple. If it was a matter of love I'd choose you every time."
He walked away, and she leaned against the wall, eyes closed. Half of her wanted to stay there, just wait until history had passed and no one remembered her name. The other half wanted to hit Brock for being so…career driven. But there really wasn't a damn thing to do about it. Some girl out there was living a fairy tale, marrying her prince and living happily forever and ever.
She wasn't special. She was one of three hundred students in her junior class. She was one of three hundred names that would never be remembered that, in a few generations, not even their families would remember or care who they were. No, she was another little tragedy in three hundred boring stories.
She leaned against the wall and waited to fade into her ever after.
Huh, this didn't start out as angst...dammit. Sorry if that was a little depressing for you.