A/N: This story actually happened to me! Except we were in a van and it had a sadder ending than this. :( Anyways, finally my first AAML one-shot! So excited! Hopefully they aren't too OOC you guys! Enjoy, and read and review if you would! Also, I do not own or claim Pokemon in anyway, though I sure wish I could at times!:)
She turned her head, filled with such discomfort and contempt that she desperately wished the train would finally stop. It was bad enough that she was stuck riding home with Ash and his girlfriend Angie, let alone the fact that Angie was curled up against Ash's chest asleep, her fingers still obtrusively intertwined with his. He was too busy staring out the window and stroking her hair with his free hand to notice the pained look on Misty's face. She merely sighed, looking at the phone in her left hand as if it held all the answers to questions she hadn't the will left in her to ask. At the tap of a button, the screen flickered to life, and on it, was a picture of her and Ash back in the old days. Back before he met Angie Breeze.
Gah, she should've told him the truth from the start! What a fool she'd been, thinking he'd finally come to notice the feelings she'd grown for him from day one. It would've saved her a whole lot of heartache; that was for sure. Rejection would've been easier to put up with than this tight-chested feeling of regret. No longer were they the rash ten-year-olds of nearly eight years ago; they were almost grown, for Christ's sake!
Yet she'd refused to tell him. She'd given more than enough signs and signals. But Ash didn't work quite that way; his obliviousness wouldn't allow it. She began thinking about it all, memory after memory crashing through her brain, rushes of nostalgia at every twist and turn of the tracks. Every single conversation they'd ever had, every battle she'd ever watched, every time her mallet struck him upside the head; every single moment they'd shared together, all spent in vain.
Now she was condemned to spend eternity without him, and she felt him slipping away with every passing day. Or so she thought. After finishing her reflections of the past, her mind wandered toward what had happened earlier today. The whole gang went to see a Pokémon Musical in Unova, at Ash's suggestion, and later spent the afternoon at Nimbasa's never-ending amusement park. Her stomach roiled at every kiss she remembered between Angie and Ash, be it a tender peck on the cheek or a kiss on the lips, and she knew if she didn't quit torturing herself with the images soon, she would be unable to contain her pain any longer. Or the contents of her stomach, for that matter.
She looked once more at her phone, this time to see how much longer the ride would last. Crap. They had at least another thirty minutes to go. God forbid there be any detours or "slight" hold-ups. She finally decided to lean back against the seat, ready for sleep to carry her away.
But it never came. She looked down, feeling a hand tug her phone away from her light grasp, and was startled to find it was Ash's. What could he possibly want with her phone? She glanced over toward him, trying to catch the unreadable expression on his face in the dim moonlight. What is he looking at? She wondered, watching his fingers meticulously fly across the keypad in mere seconds. He stopped, conceivably amazed by what he was seeing.
That's when a random thought occurred to her. What if he's going through my messages? While she wasn't crazy enough to send anything inappropriate or uncalled for, she was pretty sure her last conversation with May had something to do with Ash. Or everything. She might've even said she'd loved him.
But he wasn't that nosy, right? He knew not to invade her private conversations…didn't he? True, it never stopped his prying eyes and elephant ears before, but still. She trusted him. Trusted him more than life itself, it seemed.
Besides, what did it matter if he figured out the truth at this point? She doubted it meant anything to him anyway. Ironically enough, it meant everything to the person leaning against him. If she found out, the redhead knew she'd never see Ash again. Angie was incredibly nice, but was also a very jealous person, much like Misty herself. Luckily, she was still fast asleep, stirring only slightly whenever the train hit a bump.
Seconds turned to hours as Misty nervously awaited the death sentence she felt was about to be given. Her stomach was in a billion knots, writhing and wriggling like a snake, and her heart was clattering against her ribs like a restless bird trapped in its cage, defiantly letting her feelings be known to the rest of the world. She wasn't ready for it, wasn't ready for the heartache, wasn't ready for the rejection that was coming. Finally, after about five eternities, he wordlessly handed the phone back, averting his eyes to avoid meeting hers. She was scared, petrified even, to look at the screen, knowing full well he had it too long not to have read her entire conversation with May.
She watched as the same background appeared, and became slightly confused as she began to sift through everything. No Internet history, so he didn't get on Chatter or Pokébook. Nothing added to her somewhat random list of thoughts on her memo pad. He certainly didn't call anyone, and apparently didn't send any messages either. So what in the world was he doing with her phone?!
Glancing over at him, she noticed the sheepish expression on his face. Why was he suddenly so shy and mortified? Then she saw the new message she'd received. From her own number. Her breathing faltered, and for a moment she felt like her heart had stopped. The whole world was drowned out as she tried to make sense of the words he'd purposely sent. "I love you, too, Misty," she read aloud, gasping slightly as her face went from a pale shade of fear to a rosy red blush of embarrassment.
She was almost ready to cry and laugh and whack him with the mallet at the same time. So he had read the messages! "Why I oughta…" she muttered, ready to slap him silly for his nosiness. Still, another thought lingered in her mind, dark and foreboding like a heavy laden storm cloud: What about Angie? As if in answer to her question, another message appeared shortly after the first. Hm, if it's anything like the first, he'd better be ready to rush me to the nearest hospital.
Don't worry about Angie, Misty. She'll be fine.What seemed like simple sentences to the rest of the world soon became Misty's last lifeline, her final hope, and her wildest dream. She latched onto every word, making her feel slightly warm and fuzzy inside. And for the first time in ages, an affectionate smile lit up her entire face as she heard the whistle blow and the train come to a halt. She had finally made it home.