Hey! I'm back, as I said! I mean really, was there ever any doubt?? Anyway here is Chapter 2!! Oh and if anyone was wondering this entire story is done from Ash's point of view.
In my humble opinion –or IMHO, in cyber talk –whoever invented school totally goofed. Final exams should be in February, or even March –sometime during those gray, freezing days when it hurts to breathe because the air is so cold and you're positive it's going to be winter forever. Having finals in February would be a package marked Everything Sucks.
But take June. What kind of human being, especially a kid human, wants to sit hunched over his books when it's just getting warm enough to swim? Who can keep his concentration on formulas and numbers when summer is right in his face, breathing warm air and green grass and blue sky?
If you want my opinion, they're just asking kids to flunk out.
I wasn't close to flunking –not for nothing do I have a straight-A girlfriend. But when it came to trig, I was hanging on by my finger nails to that C-minus cliff, in great danger of dropping into the burning D river. Jen had promised to help me study, but I always found an excuse not to. Like, I had to wash my dad's car. Or play dolls with my sister Molly. Can you tell I'd rather do anything but trig?
One particular stellar day Misty had scheduled another study session after school. The final bell rang, and I headed for my locker. After I got my jacket and books, I'd meet Misty at her locker. We'd walk home together. Misty lives right next door, and we'd sit in her family room, or on the back porch if it was warm out, and pretend to study while we ate cookies or leftover pizza. The we'd shoot some hoops, or watch MTV, or listen to a new CD, and then I'd go home for dimmer. After dinner, I'd call her about 8:00, and we'd talk some more. Misty would say, "Well, homework calls, Ash, gotta split," after about twenty minutes. Then I'd say, "Pick you up outside tomorrow," and she'd say, "If you're lucky," and we'd hang up.
How did I know this would happen, just like that?
Because it happened every day, just like that.
At my locker, I reached for my denim jacket and my trig book. I slammed the door shut and twirled the lock. My trig book fell on the ground and I kicked it.
"Young man! Young man!" My best friend, Gary Oak, wagged a finger in my face. He pitched his voice high and shaky. "Treat your things well, and they'll return the favor." Gary was doing his impersonation of Miss Celadon, our horrible teacher from back in fourth grade. You might say that Gary and I have some history together.
I picked up my trig book and stuffed it in my backpack. "Die laughing, Mr. Comedian."
I meant it to come out funny, but my tone was like curdled milk. Gary took a step back. "Hey, what's up with you?"
I sighed as I put on my jacket. I knew that it wasn't fair to take my cranky mood out on Gary. Let alone my trig book. "Finals pressure is getting to me, man," I said. I gripped my hair with both hands and widened my eyes. "I think I'm going to crack like an egg! Help me! Help me! Aaarrggg!"
Gary pretended not to notice my bonehead activity. "So where's Misty?" he asked twirling his lock.
"Arrrrgggg!" I said again, banging my head against a locker.
"What are you guys up to?" Gary asked as he stuffed some books in his knapsack.
I was getting a headache from banging my head, so I gave up acting like an idiot. "Same old same old," I said. "You?"
"Study date with Alison Potasher," Gary said. He shook his hand, as though his fingers were burning. "Va-va-va-voom-de-ay."
"How did you get a date with Alison Potasher, nerdling?" I asked. Alison is major dream girl material. She can run slow motion on my beach anytime.
Gary grinned as he slammed his locker shut. "I'm pulling A's in social studies and trig," he said. "This time of year, I can have my pick. All I have to do is say the word 'tutor', and babes come running."
"Whoa," I said. "I never thought being a coma-inducing grind could actually improve your date potential. Radical thinking."
Gary shrugged modestly. "My own personal strategy. Tomorrow, Emily Beringer and I have a social studies date."
"Wow," I said. "I totally salute you, dude."
"Oh, tutor!" Alison Potasher waggled her fingers at Gary from down the hall. Her green eyes sparkled as she tossed her coppery red hair flirtatiously. "Are you ready to rock and roll?"
"I'm there!" Gary called back.
Alison pursed her lips and frowned. Can I just say this? It's amazing how girls can project pouts, all the way down a crowded hallway.
"Just be gentle with me, Gary," she cooed. This girl is so good, she can project a coo.
"What can I say," Gary said to me under his breath while he grinned like a monkey at Alison. "I looooove finals week."
I watched Gary join Alison at her locker. I wondered if Alison's cinnamon-colored hair would smell a little spicy if you got up real close.
I speeded up the pace toward Misty's locker. I was about two minutes and forty-five seconds late. What can I say? You get your excitement in life where you can.
Misty greeted me with such a big smile that I felt guilty about wondering what Alison's hair would smell like.
"Hey, Ash," Misty said pulling out her sweater. "Ready for some hard-core trig drill?"
"Oh, did you say that we were going to do trig drill?" I said. "I thought you said we were going to fire up the big grill. I was looking forward to a couple of hotdogs."
Misty grinned as she closed her locker. "Relax, Ash. It's as easy as falling off a logarithm."
"Another comedian. Is this actually clown school?" I said. "Funny, because I thought I was in Pallet High."
"Misty slipped her arm through mine. "C'mon, Oscar the Grouch. I've got a brownie with name on it. No walnuts."
Hey, there's an advantage to having a steady girl. She knows what you're allergic to.
We headed out of school together. We said "see you" to all our friends together. Started home together.
Our legs moved together. Our feel hit the ground together. Our pace seemed to stamp the word into my brain.
Together…together…together.
Misty and I both live in big old houses near the center of town. Most kids live in the newer developments outside Pallet. The town was settled along the banks of the River of New Beginnings some time before the war between Kanto and Johto. My family's house was built in 1798. In the winter, I swear I can feel watch and every crack in the old walls from the wind whistling through them. A few years ago, before Dad replaced the furnace, I found ice on my toothbrush one morning. People always say how charming our house is. Try living with icicles in your blood every winter. You call that charm?
But at least Mom and Dad keep up with the repairs on our old shack. They are totally mad about renovation projects. Misty's house is falling around her ears. Her dad never was much of a handyman in the first place. Her mom used to rag him about it, especially when she saw my dad fixing the plumbing and painting the shutters.
But maybe Misty's mom shouldn't have said a word. Mr. Williams started hanging around Bob's Hardware Station every Saturday. He got really interested in drill bits and two-by-fours. And then the summer before last he ran away with Trudie Belden, the twenty-two-year-old cashier.
The funny thing was, Misty didn't talk about it. And the girl was never shy before about letting you know what was on her mind. But whenever I asked her about her dad leaving, she just got this really intense look on her face and said that everything was going to be okay. Her dad hadn't been much of a swell guy when he was around. He had spent all his time in his "office" in the basement, where Misty said all he did was watch TV and read magazines. But I had a feeling that no matter what kind of a dad you had, no matter if he never came to one of your swim meets or softball games, you still had to miss him when left.
But Misty was okay with it. Or as okay as she could be. Her older brother, Rudy, had been the one to go off the deep end. He'd flunked out of college and taken a job in a restaurant in Celadon. Then he'd gotten into some pretty heavy drugs, and Mrs. Williams had been really worried about him for a while. Misty's dad lived about three towns up river, and even he'd gotten involved, maybe for the first time since he'd had kids. He'd paid for a therapist over in Viridian City, and had even bought Rudy a used car so he could drive there.
Now Rudy has straightened out and is going to Vermillion State. So the Williams are doing all right. If their house doesn't collapse on their heads that is.
Misty drilled me on trig for a while, but my mind was wandering. Even the sugar rush from the brownie didn't help my concentration.
"Ash, I know this is Dullsville, but you've got to work on it," Misty said, tapping my leg with her pencil. "If you pull a D, your parents will flip. And you'll probably have to go to summer school, which would be a major drag. It might interfere with your job. Not to mention my summer," she teased.
Oh, did I mention that Misty and I had jobs at the country club? Together? I would be bussing tables at the club restaurant, and she was on the grounds crew.
I'd get to see Misty every day. We'd drive there together, and eat lunch together, and drive home together. I could see the whole summer stretching ahead of me. I knew what I'd be doing every day and evening….
Together. Together. Together…
Meanwhile, all around me, I'd see girls. Girls in shorts. Girls in bathing suits. Girls with blond hair, girls with dark curly hair, girls with great legs, girls with great smiles, girls who flirted, girls who were shy.
And I wouldn't be able to talk to any of them.
Unless I broke up with Misty. But I didn't want to do that! I was crazy about her. Besides, every single person in Pallet, including all the Williams and all of my family the Ketchum's, plus Mr. Grandy at the ice-cream shop, would think I was a class-A slime weevil if I dumped a girl like Misty.
Was there such a thing as being trapped into goodness?
"Ash?" Misty peered at me. I knew the five freckles on her nose by heart. "What's wrong? You were staring at me like you wanted to strangle me. I just said you had to study harder, that's all."
I closed my book with a snap. "I know, you keep telling me. Every day at lunch. Every night on the phone. Every morning when we walk to school. Every –"
"Hey," Misty interrupted. "I'm just trying to help."
I didn't say anything, and Misty bent her head over her notebook. Her hair fell forward, so I couldn't see her face.
I looked at the Swatch Misty had bought me for my sixteenth birthday in October. It was almost four o'clock. I usually didn't leave for another hour, but I was anxious to get home. My girls were waiting. And today was a special day. I was expecting something important.
I had seven girlfriends on line. Amber, Katie, Marianne, Wendy, Patti, Jessica, and May. I'd met them all in chat rooms, and we sent each other e-mail too. Jessica lives in Hawaii, and she's totally cool to talk to. Amber is really smart and funny, and she lives only one state away in Johto. She had been my favorite girlfriend. Until May.
There was something special about May, right from the start. We clicked in a major way. After we met on a chat line, we started going into private chat rooms so that we could talk without being interrupted. We'd been conversing for weeks now, and May was the coolest ever. Today she was sending me a picture of herself. I couldn't wait to download it.
Not that I was expecting a complete babe to pop up on my screen. Life isn't fair. I knew that. There was no way that May could look as perfect as her personality was. But not expecting something great doesn't mean you can't hope for something great.
"You haven't asked me about my essay," Misty said catching me zoning out the window.
"Oh. Sorry. How's you essay?" I asked.
"Thanks for asking," Misty said. She flashed me a grin, so I knew we were okay. "I worked on it again last night. Do you want to hear it?"
Misty had been working on an essay for this contest sponsored by Clean Teens, an antidrug organization. The winner could get their essay published in Screenager magazine. I'd heard the essay in different stages about twenty times. But I wasn't allowed to say no. Talk about trapped.
"Sure," I said.
Misty took a piece of paper out of her note book. She cleared her throat. "'Drug addiction is the plague of our generation. It preys on the weak and the vulnerable. It splits apart families and drives a wedge between friends….'"
I zoned again. May had mentioned she was a brunette. But did she have short or long hair? Was it curly or straight?
After a few minutes, Misty looked over the paper at me. "You're not listening!"
"Sure I am!" I said. "Of course I am. Drug addiction is the plague of our generation. For sure."
Misty sighed. "What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing."
"Tell me," Misty said. "Really. I can take constructive criticism."
"Well," I said. I sensed a potential minefield here. Misty isn't great at taking criticism. She could be touchy. So I carefully put down one foot and tested the ground….
"It lacks something," I said.
"Something? Misty asked, leaning forward. "Like what?"
"Like…zing," I said.
"Zing?"
I inched the next foot onto the mine field. "It's kind of…boring," I said.
Boom! I'd just blown sky high.
Color rushed into Misty's face. "Boring?"
"It sounds kind of like a term paper," I said. "Written by a person with no personality."
"This is constructive criticism?" Misty asked, her voice rising to a squeak. "Why don't you just take a knife and cut me, Ash!"
"You said you could take it!" I shot back. "I'm just trying to help you –"
Well, this isn't help," Misty said, gathering her papers. "I didn't realize I had such a lack of zip."
"I didn't say you lacked zip," I pointed out. I said you lacked zing. You're the zippiest girl I know –"
"Now I'm zippy," Misty said. "Gee thanks –"
"But you have to admit, you have a real up close and personal knowledge of this whole drug thing, and you're writing about it like it's some kind of survey," I said.
Misty's lips pressed together. "That's mean, Ash. You know Rudy is better now –"
"I know! That's what I'm saying! You went through this whole awful freaky period, and you're acting like you don't know anything about it firsthand!" I said. I wished I hadn't opened my mouth at all. If Misty is closed mouthed about her father, she eats paste when it comes to her brother. She and Rudy had been super close before he'd become a flake. She's really needed him when their dad left, and instead, he'd gotten all sullen and mean, and then he'd started orbiting around the planet. Then, as soon as he was off drugs and acting halfway normal, he'd split for college.
"I guess I'd better go," I said, even though it wasn't nearly time.
"Yeah, I guess," Misty said. She looked as though she was trying not to cry.
I felt pretty awful running out. But once I hit the open air, I felt better. Misty and I would make up. We always did. And I had another girl waiting for me.
As soon as I got home, I clicked on my mailbox icon and sure enough, May had come through.
Dear AshyBoy,
Okay, here's the real me. Remember our deal. If you're disappointed, just don't tell me. I have my pride, baby.
Love,
Maple.7
Maple.7 was May's Internet address. Maple is her last name. I started the download function and I waited.
Slowly, May's image formed on my screen. He chocolate brown hair was shoulder length and straight. Parted down the middle, her bangs kind of flipped over one eye. She was wearing faded jeans, and her legs went on forever. She smiled at the camera as if to say, I'm yours, Ash.
In short, she was a total and complete knockout.
And there was only one word to describe what she did to me.
Va-va-va-voom-de-ay!
Yes! I'm finally done with chapter two! This chapter should be long enough to satisfy, right? If not well, tell me I guess…but this is long. I guess you could say that there is Advanceshipping…and Pearlshipping…and Pokeshipping in the story, but technically it's not.
Especially considering that Dawn hasn't made her debut in the story yet and she won't for a while. Sorry any Dawn lovers! So yeah…I hope you review! They make me happy! B-) I have to be cool too! XD
7/18/08
