Title: Jealousy
Warnings: MUUUUUSH.
Notes: Just something that's popped into my head. In the spur of the moment, so to speak.

May Maple doesn't get jealous.

That's why she obviously isn't at all when she sees Becky Tyler, not for nothing called the prettiest girl of Newbark Town, congratulating him on his almost victory in the Grand Festival. And it's also merely curiosity, not jealousy, that leads her to follow the two of them out the pokémon centre into the backyard. She doesn't go too near, because who is she, trying to eavesdrop? Besides, watching them alone is enough to realise what they're doing.

Becky's subtly inching toward him, batting her eyelashes, and probably tells him that he's the best trainer in the history of ever.

And she isn't jealous. The douche can do whatever he wants.

He raises his eyebrow at something she said, but politely smiles and replies, anyway. Thereupon she scrunches up her face in fake pain and (seriously, he has to be blind and deaf and stupid not to notice how incredibly false this little bitch is) she throws herself at him, shouting out oh how much she loves him and that she cannot ever survive without his affection.

May is about to turn around and go-- she doesn't need the image of them making out stuck in her head for weeks (it's not that she cares, it'd just be disgusting to watch)--as he jerkily shoves Becky off, causing her to shriek in supposed agony.

And she cannot understand it at all.

Becky falls on her butt, hissing curses under her breath and May can't hide the little smug grin that's beginning to curl up her lips. (Just out of schadenfreude, nothing more.) He helps her up and seems to apologize for his action, but lets her hand go as soon as she stands and leaves her as soon as he perceives May.

Without wasting another look on Becky, he comes closer and closer to her and she feels caught and so very, very awkward.

"Enjoyed the show?" he asks with his trademark smirk and she wishes he would finally stop being an ass and simply act nice for a moment (and if it's only pretence). In the background Becky is showing her her middle finger in all its majestic glory. May groans.

"No, I didn't even want to be here."

"Right," he says and the smirk still doesn't vanish from his face.

"It's true," she tries to deny it but deep inside knows that it's futile. With him everything is.

"Just admit that you're jealous."

"I am not." And that's because she's not. No, not the tiniest bit. That would be stupid.

"It's okay," he chuckles self-satisfied and flicks his hair. Another one of those trademarked habits of his. "Most girls would be."

"I'm not 'most girls' and I am not jealous." Her voice is louder than intended and she hates herself for it. But she hates him even more, because he's able to get her riled up within seconds without breaking a sweat and all she can do is cry and scream when he's not looking.

"Really, it's all right," he assures her, blissfully aware of the glare she's shooting him. "She's not my type, anyway."

At that May freezes and stares at him with an odd mix of confusion, disgust and lack of understanding evident in her eyes.

"What?"

"If she's not, then who is?" Before she knows what she's even saying, the words are out and nothing is there to protect her from the mockery that she's sure will come next.

But no such thing. He just answers, "I don't know, not her?"

May is everything but content with this. (Honestly, what kind of response is that?) "Oh come on," she mocks him, partly because she enjoys it, but mostly because she can. "She's so beautiful and . . . Her breasts are c-cups, for crying out loud, surely you--as you must have hit puberty by now--don't have any reasons to reject her, do you? Or do you have a thing for older women--mmppf!"

That douche, that complete asshole is kissing her.

What the Hell.

And she just stands there, kind of helplessly, and has to admit that it's somewhat nice. Not like she imagined it to be or like it's portrayed in the movies, but nice.

And then, just like that, he's pushing her away and rushes off in the opposite direction. She doesn't call or run after him, because that would make her no better than Becky and she never cared in the first place. So she stalks--not runs--back to the pokémon center, stumbling over nothing along the way, and swears to herself that he's the biggest dick she's ever had the misfortune of meeting.

FIN.