Disclaimer: I don't own "The Fairly Oddparents" (that'd be Butch Hartman, Frederator and Nickelodeon), though given what the show has mutated into, perhaps it's just as well.
Chapter 1 - Past Forward
(...Dimmsdale High...six years into the future...)
The halls are alive with the sounds of groaning, scuffling shoes against the floor, slamming lockers. In other words, the exact atmosphere for the first day of school.
One of the mouths doing the groaning belonged to Timmy Turner. He had just completed what he considered one of the best summers ever. The beach, the water park, the mall...and that didn't even factor in the escapades that came courtesy of his fairy godparents.
In his opinion, the only failing of the last couple of months - and what kept it from being the best summer ever - was that his object of desire, Trixie Tang, was nowhere to be seen. The rumors had flown wildly about what happened to her: skydiving accident, pregnancy followed by impromptu abortion, confined to bed because of a nasty sunburn.
The brown-haired boy walks down the halls. He can't help but roll his eyes at all the 'welcome back' paraphernalia littering the walls. Like anyone was really looking forward to being back here, for another year of education.
Timmy turns a corner and notices a crowd of people gathered in the middle of the corridor talking excitedly. 'It must be something special to block the halls like this', he thought to himself.
The crowd breaks allowing Timmy to see what the big deal was.
And what a big deal.
It was a girl, but not like any Timmy had seen in his sixteen years. Her shimmering dark hair fell to the middle of her back. Her skirt was cut to mid- mid-thigh and from it came two of the longest, loveliest legs he'd ever witnessed. Okay, so he could only see her back, but it was still impressive.
He felt his pants grow increasingly tight as he stared at the young woman. She turned around to face him...and this move makes things worse for him. Puberty had been very kind to her...to say nothing of Dr. Louis Goldfarb, one of the best boob job men in the lower 48.
It would not have been unreasonable to say that her new 36DDs were a little...big on her, but Trixie's feeling was this: she'd grow into them. For the longest time, she was all about getting attention and her new..."additions" (which she colorfully nicknamed "Buttercup" and "Ilsa") would make sure she'd never go without it.
Timmy's jaw hung open at the sight, but given that a number of guys in the hallway shared his expression, he wasn't too worried about looking foolish.
He was unprepared for what happened next. Trixie walks in his direction. His eyes followed her every move: the swish of her hair, the bounce of her boobs, the sway of her hips. Unfortunately, as per usual, she didn't notice him. Timmy exhales in defeat.
Having witnessed the whole thing, another dark-haired girl, one of more modest...well, everything, heads to a room and throws the door open.
(...the ladies' room...)
The girl gazes into the mirror. She never much cared for the whole standards of beauty thing, but she had to admit...she was good-looking: neither a knockout nor unattractive. All in all, pretty average, but then, this is what Tootie Flanagan was used to. Except for height, she hadn't changed very much in appearance.
Her attitude was a different story. When freshman year rolled around, she came to the heart-breaking yet perfectly reasonable conclusion that the world would not end if Timmy didn't return her love. For two years, she forced herself to stand by and watch her true love lust (there was no other word, really) after Trixie. Instead of chasing after him or cornering him in some part of the school, she'd try instead chewing gum. (Fortunately, her braces had come off about the time her decision was made.) She went through a lot of gum.
She wipes a few tears from her eyes. A stern expression decorates her face.
(...the cafeteria...a couple of hours later...)
The room is, as usual, busy with the chatter of the students. The topics are varied: school work, crushes, debating the edibility of the lunches.
Speaking of lunch, Tootie, carrying a tray on her books, looks for an empty table at which to sit. She wasn't the most popular girl, but she valued her privacy. On her way to one at the opposite end of the lunch room, her eyes spot a distressing sight: Timmy gazing longingly at Trixie, even more than she, herself, used to do to him.
With an audible grunt, Tootie breaks away. After all, she didn't want to become nauseous before eating her lunch.
(...the halls of Dimmsdale High...an hour later...)
Timmy rushes past students to his next class. How wonderful that he had classes on two different floors...on opposite sides of the school.
In his haste, he runs into Tootie, knocking her to the ground.
Without getting a good look at her face, he starts picking up the books she was holding. "Oh, I'm so sorry."
"Yeah. Sure. No problem." There is nothing in her voice that suggests she believes him.
He takes a good look at her. His eyes widen. "Tootie?"
"None other."
He stands to his feet. "Wow. You look nice."
"Back at you." She joins him.
"So...how are you doing?"
"Good."
Timmy rubs the back of his head.
"Do you have a...I mean, is there any...?"
"Are you trying to ask if I have a boyfriend?"
The boy sighs deeply. His eyes lock onto the floor. "Yes."
"Timmy, I've thought about this for a long time, and I..." She notices him looking at the floor. "Can I, at least, look you in the eyes when I say this?"
He meets her gaze.
"I've thought about this for a long time, and I have come to a conclusion: it's better for me to give up. For years, I tried to reach you; tried to make you realize that I will love you, no matter what. I tried to dig deep, beyond the layers of shallowness to the sweetness of the inner you. Then, it dawned on me...there is no sweetness in you. You're just a hollow shell of a man, more content to think with his crotch than his heart or, Heaven forbid, his brain."
To her surprise, these words struck him deep. She could see it in her eyes, and the old her would've stopped long ago. But, she figured, he can't learn anything if the lessons are sugar-coated.
"I don't want you anymore. Yep, that's good news for you and Trixie. And please don't embarrass yourself by coming up to me with 'I've changed. I'm a better person.' You don't have it in you to change. I see that, now. Goodbye, Timmy."
As she walks away, the bell rings. It could've mattered less to Timmy. He never thought his heart could be broken by someone who not only loved him, but who he didn't even love back.
(...Dimmsdale High...one year later...)
Timmy stalks the hallways. Tootie's words weighed heavily on his mind throughout his junior year. At least once a day, he reflected on what she said.
Every so often, he shrugged off the insults and continued to pursue Trixie, and with just as much determination, she continued to ignore him. One day, he actually took the time to think about why he liked Trixie. Well, what's not to like? She's pretty and rich and...and...she's... It was at that moment that he realized...he was shallow. He cared solely for her looks and riches, and, really, how long can those last?
Timmy went on to think about his life: his relationships with his parents, his friends and his fairy godparents. He got the feeling that they all shared Tootie's opinion. The big difference being that she was the only one with the guts to tell him to his face.
Then it hit him like a sock full of D-cell batteries: Tootie. Sure, she wasn't rich, but she was - heck, is - pretty, kind-hearted, affectionate (if a little too much), resourceful, loyal and honest.
She would make a great girlfriend, or rather, would have. 'I don't want you anymore.' This was going to be hard.
This year's classes wouldn't be a cakewalk, either: Calculus, World History, Advanced Physics. Good thing he was allowed a study hall period.
(...a classroom...)
Except for the teacher reading a newspaper, the room seems to be empty. One of the windows is open, allowing a stiff Autumn breeze to dance in. Timmy takes a seat toward the back and rifles through his notebook. So busy is he with his work, he fails to notice the dark-haired girl walk into the room. She doesn't seem to notice him, either.
The girl takes a seat near the front. She adjusts her glasses and opens a textbook.
Timmy looks up at the girl. He squints at her a little, almost like he knows her. His subsequent shrug suggests otherwise as he returns to his work.
The girl grabs herself and shudders a little. She raises her hand.
"Um, do you mind if I close the window? It's really cold."
At hearing the girl's voice, Timmy is snapped out of his study-induced stupor.
He looks at the brunette as she walks to the window and close it. She turns toward her desk, allowing him a good look at her face. It's Tootie!
Timmy couldn't believe that the fates were so kind to allot him this opportunity. She sits in her desk and returns to her notes. Fortunately for him, the overseeing teacher was merely concerned with the quiet of his charges. The young man gathered his belongings and crept quietly toward her.
With as much subtlety as he could muster, he slid into the seat behind her. His breathing was low as he gently poked her shoulder with a pencil.
She turns around, and turns back. "Oh. It's you."
"Yeah. Hi. Can I talk to you?"
Her eyes are on her book. "You're doing it now, aren't you?"
"Yeah. Well, I've thought - a lot - about what you said to me last year. You were absolutely right. There's no excuse for the way I've acted in my life, and...I would like a chance to make it up to you if I can."
She places her book down and turns around in her chair. "Timmy, do you even know what you're apologizing for?"
"Yes!" The teacher looks up from his paper. "Yes", he says, quieter. "I'm apologizing for being so shallow; for being so blind. For...well, for being a bastard to you all these years."
"I want so much to believe you, but, for some reason, I can't. There's too much history between us to just up and accept an apology from you."
"Tootie..."...turns around and focuses on the text.
Timmy can't help but sigh at her cold-shoulder.
(...outside Dimmsdale High...a few hours later...)
The students exit the building en masse. Tootie, one of the first ones out, sits under a tree and opens a book. The buses were going to leave in a matter of minutes, but she felt like walking home, anyway. A shadow soon casts over her. She looks up at the source.
Timmy stands before her, his hands in his pockets. Tootie puts her book down and glares at him. "Who'd have ever thought that you'd end up stalking me?"
No response.
"Maybe I should get myself a restraining order, only this time, it'll stick." She would not mask the venomous tone in her voice.
He waves. "Hello. I'm Timmy Turner."
"What is it you think you're doing?"
"Introducing myself. Isn't that what people do when they first meet?"
"Are you touched or something? We've known each other for years!"
"Yeah, but that was a bad relationship. I want us to start over. I want to know you as you are now, and I want you to know me as I am now."
The brunette stared at him for quite some time. As stern as she was with him, she had to admit that a part of her - smaller now than in the past - wanted him in her life. If this was the way to do it, fine.
"What do you say, miss?"
She stands up and shakes his hand. "I'm Virginia Flanagan, but everyone calls me 'Tootie'."
"I have the feeling that this will be a great friendship."
She jerks his hand and pulls him close. "But know this, Timmy Turner: this is all it will be. We'll be the best of friends and nothing more. Understood?"
He nods. "I understand."
(...Timmy's bedroom...eight months later...)
Throughout the rest of the year, Timmy and Tootie grew quite close. Whenever they were bored, in need of a sympathetic ear or struggling in their school work (this was mainly his problem), they were there for each other.
He didn't know what to think when Tootie asked him to accompany her to the senior prom. The prom was mainly for couples, and she was adamant about the platonic nature of their relationship. She had been asked out last week by Ross Magner, second baseman on the school's baseball team. Unfortunately for her, something came up; his grandmother fell deathly ill. She didn't want to stay home, and going to prom alone was not a viable option for her.
Timmy looked at himself in the mirror wearing his rented tuxedo. He takes a breath and walks out the door.
(...a gymnasium...thirty minutes later...)
The lighting. The dancing students. The throbbing music. The gaudy decorations. This is the senior prom, all right. There is a special set-up for couples to take their pictures, so that they'll remember this night for years to come.
Timmy stands next to Tootie and offers up a smile. However, the photographer - a woman in her fifties - doesn't share his attitude.
"What is this?"
Timmy's happiness quickly turns into confusion. "What do you mean?"
"This is supposed to be a night to remember, and you're both so...stiff."
Tootie sighs. "Well, what do you suggest?"
"Young man, stand behind your girlfriend, like at an angle."
He obliges, but... "She's not my gir--"
"Put your arms around her waist."
He shrugs and follows her instructions. Tootie looks at him, then at the photographer.
"Now, give us a smile."
The two of them hesitate a bit before smiling. The flash goes off. Timmy rubs his eyes because of the brightness. Tootie leads him away.
"These should be ready in a week. Enjoy the prom."
"Ma'am, just to clarify something, she's not my girlfriend. She's my best friend."
"Too bad. You make a cute couple."
As the two of them walk toward the general population, Timmy reflects on the older woman's words. They could've been a cute couple, before he screwed things up with his selfishness. What a horrible thing it is for people to know regret.
Tootie's eyes widen when she gets to the dance floor. Ross' grandmother must've been doing better than expected, because there he was on the dance floor...with Sharon Paul - his (supposedly) ex-girlfriend. The way they were carrying on, one would think they never split up. This night is just full of surprises.
Timmy sees what she's looking at. His friend was livid, her expression suggesting that several acts of violence were forthcoming.
He takes her hand and blocks her view of her 'date'. "Forget about him. You're here to have fun."
Tootie sighs. "Yeah. To hell with him. Wanna dance?"
"But I don't know how."
"Just keep up with me and don't step on my feet."
"I can do that."
As the music changes to a slower tune, the friends walk on to the dance floor. Many of the other students, disenchanted by the melody, walk to their seats.
Timmy takes Tootie's hands and glide across the floor. Her 'just friends' rule fresh in his mind, he is careful not to get too close, but she narrows the gap between them. He shrugs and puts his hands behind her. Timmy feels a sudden pain in his head. He stops and puts his hand up.
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah. Just a little sting. It's probably nothing."
She notices his hand on her back. He quickly removes it.
He smiles nervously. "Sorry."
"That's okay."
The two continue dancing.
(...outside the gymnasium...)
The moon shines brightly through the skylight of the gym. Looking down on the two teenagers is Cosmo and Wanda. About a month ago, they had to leave their godchild behind; the onset of adulthood and all. But there was nothing in Da Rules that said they couldn't watch over him. The pink-haired fairy had a feeling that, sooner or later, there would be a meeting to discuss this rule, but for now, she wanted to take in the heart-warming sight.
"Oh, they look so nice together, don't they, Cosmo?"
"Yes, they do, kind of like bacon and eggs. Peanut butter and bananas, or..."
She takes his hands. "...you and me. Don't I look lovely in this light?"
"No. You look lovely in any light."
She smiles and the two of them take off into the stars.
(...a dorm room...two years later...)
Timmy was able to improve his grades enough to attend Dimmsdale University. Given how much things had changed, he felt he had to leave home. He made a promise to not be selfish, and living at home during this time was, to him, pretty selfish. Plus, he wanted to get out more.
On this night, though, he decided to stay in and study. College courses were much harder than the young man had anticipated. His eyes were deep in a thick book. The subject of this book: The History of Flight. There was a paper due on it in a week.
Timmy's concentration is interrupted by a knock at the door.
He gets up from his bed and heads to the door. On the other side of it is Tootie. She stands before him in tears. She walks in, sits in a chair and buries her face in her hands.
"Would you like to come in?" He closes the door.
He approaches her with caution; given her current state, there's no telling how she might react.
"Tootie, are you o-- No, that's stupid. What happened?"
She raises her head. "You know that frat party at the Theta House?"
"Yeah."
"Well, one of the guys led me up there and...he...he tried to..." Another outburst of tears prevents her from finishing. "I thought he was really interested in me; in what I had to say." Tootie was one of the school paper's finest writers. If nothing else, this would make a hell of a story.
Timmy grabs a couple of Kleenex from the night stand and gives them to her. "Please don't cry. When you're feeling better, you can report the bastard to the police. Better still, you could point the guy out to me and I'll kick his ass."
"Timmy...that's sweet, but I need someone with me. The girls I went to the party with were long gone, and I couldn't think of anyone else."
"Thanks."
Timmy sits on his bed. With his eyes to the floor, he doesn't notice the hungry look in her dried eyes. He looks toward the chair, only to find Tootie right in his face.
"Um...what are you doing?"
"Timmy...I tried to help myself, I really did, but...I was still mad at you. It was so nice to finally be friends with you, but deep down, I wanted more. You've been a perfect gentleman these last few years, and I'll always respect that. But...I guess I had to make the first move."
"Tootie, are you feeling all right?"
"It's just that this experience - and a bunch of others, I guess - has opened my eyes. I love you, Timmy."
The brunette knocks him onto his back and crawls onto him. She kisses him on his lips, his forehead, his ears and his neck. Attributing this to the traumatic experience she just went through, he keeps his hands in the air. She sees this and forces the extremities down to his sides.
The amorous onslaught continues and Timmy manages to resist...until Tootie nibbles on his ear. In spite of the sudden pain in his head, he decides to counter with his own kisses.
"Timmy?", she whispers.
"Yes, Tootie?"
"I don't want us to be apart."
"Don't worry. We won't."
She raises her head. "Timmy?"
"Yes?"
"Why is there a box of Kleenex on the night stand next to your bed?"
Timmy grimaces a little, then smiles. "It's my roommate's."