Hi everyone! Here's a random one-shot I came up with. Enjoy reading!
I do not own Pokémon in any way!
Butch's POV
Life gets annoying when every single person you meet thinks your name is Botch. Or Bill. Or anything else that is not your name. Trust me, it's annoying. The name's Butch. What's so hard about that?
It was the first day of high school.
Great. Another whole bunch of people to say my name wrong.
I entered my crowded school to find a way to my new classroom. I made my best scowl; this school was for bad kids. I passed a group of boys wrestling around on the ground, and a group of girls fighting over what looked like some sort of concert ticket. I passed two girls fighting about whose earrings were better and—
Oh wait.
There was Cassidy; my buddy since elementary.
I walked back to where she was.
"Well, your earrings look like toad eyes!" Cassidy shouted at the pink-haired girl she was arguing with.
"My earrings have style!" the girl replied. "My earrings are like emerald orbs! Your earrings are dreadful, ugly spikes!"
"Hey, Cassidy," I said.
"Oh puh-leez!" my friend cried at the other girl, rolling her eyes. She then turned to me.
"Hey, guess what, Bob."
"The name's Butch!"
"Yeah, whatever. This girl thinks that those earrings of hers are stylish! Oh my gosh, right? If that's what she calls style, makes sense why she keeps her hair like that."
"Uh-huh," I replied, unsure what to say. That was the least of my problems now. Wait, it wasn't even my problem to start with.
"Let's get to class," she said, starting to walk. I followed, casually shoving my hands in my jeans pocket. It wasn't long 'till we found our classroom: room thirteen.
We all sat on our seats and soon, class started. The teacher started going through the attendance list. I prepared myself to correct her when she got to my name. Of course, nobody pronounced it right.
"Jay Vinicent?"
"Here," a silver-haired girl said from within a shadow in the corner of the room.
"Botch W—"
"IT'S BUTCH!" I shouted at the top of my voice.
"Oh I'm sorry, Bush," said the teacher. "There must've been a typo. Here it says B-o-t-c-h."
I felt my blood boil.
"Bush, Bob, Botch," I grumbled under my breath, walking through the hallways. "Nobody says it right. Might as well start calling myself B—"
I bumped into someone.
"Hey, watch where you're going!" I shouted, showing the person my fist.
I took a good look at the guy I had bumped into.
He had neatly combed blue hair and wore a black leather jacket. He wore an expensive wrist-watch on his wrist and black sunglasses on his eyes.
Must be a rich kid.
He pulled his sunglasses down to his nose and peered at me.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I can barely see through these things."
I squinted my eyes.
"You better be," I growled. "Who are you, anyways?"
"My name is James," he replied. "You?"
"Butch," I replied. He didn't seem to get it.
"Cool," he said.
"Oh there you are, James!" a voice called out. I turned around to see a pink-haired girl running towards us. She had round green earrings. I recognized her as the girl Cassidy had been arguing with.
"Hello, Jessie," James said, slipping his sunglasses back to his eyes.
Jessie cast a look at me, quite of dislike.
"Weren't you with that Cassidy girl?" she demanded.
"Yeah, so?" I shot back.
Before she could reply, Cassidy made her way beside me. She and Jessie glared at each other.
James raised his eyebrows.
"Well, Bill," he said, finally. "I guess I'll be off now. See ya."
It took me a moment to realize that he was talking to me.
"It's Butch!" I shouted. But he had already left, Jessie following him saying all kinds of ridiculous things about Cassidy.
I yelled in frustration.
"Why. Can't. Anyone. Say. My. Name. Right?!" I pounded my forehead with my palm.
"Hey, calm down, Bush," Cassidy said.
"My name is Butch!" I shouted exasperatedly. I breathed heavily. "It's Butch."
A name tag. Why hadn't I thought of that earlier? Of course that would work. Then everyone would remember my name.
I strutted around the school, hoping people would notice the name tag I had made. I had written my name on it in an attempt of cursive. Cursive was always the neatest, right?
I took the cap off the bottle of cola in my hand and took a sip.
"Ooh! Can I have that?" a voice exclaimed suddenly.
I turned around. James stood behind me with a childish excitement in his eyes.
"What?" I asked, making a face.
"Can I have that bottle-cap?" he asked. "I've been looking for that one for three months!"
"This bottle-cap?" I said incredulously.
"Yes. Please... Wait, what was your name again?"
I pointed at my name tag.
"Wow, that's messy," James muttered to himself. "B... I... B... H? Or wait, no..."
"It's Butch!" I shouted. I threw the bottle-cap on his face as hard as I could. "Fine! Have it!"
I stomped off.
"Hey! You could at least be nicer!" he cried, scowling. "Some temper you've got."
I turned backwards to face him and showed him my grouchiest look. I bumped into someone.
"What in the world, Butch?" a voice said. I turned around to see Jay, a girl in my class. Before I could shout anything back, something then occurred to me.
Did she just say Butch?
I gaped for a moment and let the fact sink into me. She called me Butch! She said it right!
"That's right!" I shouted. I shook her by the shoulders. "I'm Butch! Thank you, thank you, thank—"
"Wha— Get off me," she said irritably, shoving me off. "Guards!"
Two grade twelve guys walked over and shoved me into a nearby classroom and locked the door from outside. I didn't care. She had called me Butch.
I threw a textbook at the window and broke it. I escaped easily and happily.
"Botch Walterson!" a teacher shouted at me. I ignored her. After all, it was a bad kids school, right? And I didn't care anymore if people mispronounced my name; one person had said it right. That meant that the name was not impossible to say, and that was a happy thought.
I am Butch Walterson no matter what anyone calls me. And Butch I will always be.
And that's all! I hope you liked it. Please review and had a great day!
