"Give me a pint."

Five minutes later, Calem sighed and resignedly drowned his sorrows in another spoonful of Ben and Jerry's Half Baked.

"And then I forgot my grandson's name! Again!" Professor Oak let out a hearty laugh from across the table. His favourite pastime (besides sending kids out on adventures alone against the mafia) was regaling the "young uns" with tales from his salad days. Now a geriatric, senile man years older than when he should have been committed to a nursing home, he spent his time wandering around Pallet Town and offering kids free pokemon, especially the ones "mistakenly" filched from others' pockets. Calem was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The trainer groaned and buried his face in his arms, now crossed over the table in front of him. He would have much rather wallowed in his misery without the suffering added by the doddering scientist's meaningless babble. Try as he might, there was no shutting that voice out.

Why was he here in the first place? Well, for one thing, it was a new region to explore but mostly exploit for filling his Pokedex. That was the excuse he had given his friends and family back in Kalos. But, naturally, he had an ulterior motive - to get away. From everything: Shauna's whining, the French language, Shauna's whining, Fairy-type pokemon ('cause I mean, screw them), and even Shauna's whining. But there was one thing that took the cake (no, surprisingly not the whining). Serena. He was in love with her.

Yeah? you say. So what? Go admit it already to her.

But therein lies the problem. He has. On numerous occasions. The girl is so dense, she still didn't get it when he flat-out confessed to her.

Calem shifted his arms, leaving some space. With a resounding thud, his head hit the wooden table. He swore under his breath. They always do that in the movies. No one said it hurt that much. He winced, rubbing his forehead in a vain attempt to prevent a bruise from forming.

Peering over into his ice cream cup, he frowned. I'm all out. A quick hand in his pocket confirmed his suspicions. He was broke. Maybe I could sell the old man to a slave ring... Calem looked over at the professor, who was still animatedly describing his "shining youth" with absolute disregard for how much attention his audience was giving him.

"So I said to 'im, 'I only have these three left. You can have one. Go on, choose!' The kid just grabbed one - Bulbasaur, yeesh, can you believe it - without a word. Didn't even thank me."

The wheels were already spinning in Calem's head. "'Choose! Choose your destiny!'" Well, okay, that was bit inaccurate. But that's beside the point. His choice: to stay here and give up on the love of his life, or to go back and make her see. He stood abruptly and slammed a fist against the table, effectively silencing Professor Oak for the first time in the past ten years, who looked at him incredulously.

"Thank you, Professor!" he declared.

"Well, kid it's a bit late for that, and it's not like you-" Oaks' mumbling was cut off.

"When's the next ship to Courmarine?" The young man demanded, pounding the table again.

"In about fifteen minutes, I think. Fifteen divided by five is three. Applesauce. Where was I? Oh, yeah, then I told him, 'This pokemon is quite energetic!' or some garbage like that. The little squirt just ate it up. And then when I looked at his Pokedex a month later, guess what I saw?"

Calem would never know. He was already halfway to Kalos.