The Road
He didn't exactly understand why he was even bothering to accompany Eileen. Stupid Mordecai, turning the raccoon's own glares against him. In spite of Rigby's unshakeable determination, Mordecai somehow convinced him otherwise. After all, if wasn't for Mordecai, Eileen and Margaret wouldn't even be with them right now. And Eileen? Cool? Hmph, sure. The robin was definitely exaggerating on that one.
Rigby also didn't understand why he was still thinking about complimenting Eileen, helping her, oh and, thinking about her. Especially while he was…yeah. No, no. The raccoon shoved the thoughts of the camping trip and decided to stop questioning every "positive" action he made towards Eileen. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he was still thinking about her. And the more he was still thinking about her, the more he was still thinking about her.
He might as well just take all of those confusing thoughts out of his head and focus on the task at hand: reaching the gas station.
After taking a leak, Rigby proceeded to make his way back on to the road, racing towards Eileen. No, the term "racing" seemed too…clingy. Rigby was simply catching up to her so she wouldn't be so alone. She had made quite an amount of distance in the five or so minutes Rigby had spent arguing with Mordecai.
"Eileen," he called out hesitantly, and the mole-girl turned around to face him, rather caught off-guard.
"Rigby?" she asked, blushing faintly. Eileen lifted an arm, shielding her eyes from the rays of the fixated sun. "What are you doing here? Aren't you afraid of being attacked by that deer-man again?"
The raccoon's face contorted into a frown, and he crossed his arms. Fantastic. What use was it being Eileen's muscle if she herself believed he was not even suited for the job? Huffing, Rigby replied, "What? No way. I'm not afraid of that creep. Besides, it's daytime now."
"Oh," Eileen uttered, though a tinge of skepticism was evident on her face. She giggled, "So if it was nighttime again, you'd be scared?" Eileen's grin widened as Rigby's mouth curved further downward. When the only response Eileen got was a "hmph," she simply shrugged, most likely a sign of disregard to what she previously said.
In attempt at conversation, Rigby asked, "So, um. Eileen?" It was out of the blue and not exactly the phrase Rigby had in mind, but it would have to suffice for the moment.
The mole-girl glanced at Rigby with the simplest tilt of her head. "Yeah Rigby?" she replied, almost too timidly. Eileen shoved her hands into her hoodie's pocket and let her gaze incline towards the pavement.
Rigby raised his arms behind his head. He relaxed his muscles in order to appear nonchalant. "We still didn't get to finish our match, y'know."
Stupid Mordecai, always having to ruin things. Oh sure, when the blue jay's trying—and failing, might he add—to pass off what is known as "flirting" with Margaret, Rigby is, without a doubt, out of the question. But when he's just trying to chillax and play video games with Eileen, Mordecai just had to forget to speak up about the nearest gas station.
Eileen chuckled, "Well, I don't think we can continue it right now. My game is in my pocket, but judging from appearances, you don't seem to have brought yours."
Rigby stared up at the sky and yawned, "Yeah…I guess you're right." He paused briefly to kick the ground beneath his feet, and then resumed walking alongside Eileen. A stoic expression formed on his face. Eileen apparently took notice to this, and reached inside her short pockets to retrieve her handheld.
"Here," she offered, "so you won't get so bored."
Rigby's face lit up. He gave Eileen a look of disbelief, arching an eyebrow. "You sure?" he asked. He scratched the back of his head. "I mean, what if you get bored? You know I'm not gonna give it back to you until we reach the car again." He didn't understand why this girl was always so nice to him. Well, he knew she had a crush on him, but he wondered why and how she managed to stick with it this long.
Eileen just smiled. "Go ahead," she insisted, dangling the gaming system within Rigby's reach. "I won't get bored. You know, it's nice just to stretch out and walk. I'll be just fine."
Without question, Rigby eagerly swiped the handheld from Eileen's grip. "Okay then," he shrugged, "but remember: there's no way you're getting this back until we return." He shook his head as he began to button mash, sounds emitting from the handheld to correlate with every pressed button. "I don't get you, Eileen. We just spent an entire day camping and you still prefer to just 'stretch out and walk'? Weird."
"Yeah," Eileen hummed, "but I still think it's nice. I mean, I bet if you spent an entire day playing video games, you'd still prefer to play video games over some other stuff. Isn't that right, Rigby?"
The raccoon was half-concentrating on the game, half-listening to Eileen. "Yeah, that's true. But you see…video games are fun. Just plain walking isn't." His words came out in fragments: speaking, then concentrating, then speaking again. More button pressing, and then a "game over." Rigby huffed, annoyed at his loss.
Eileen couldn't help but take another quick glance at Rigby. "To each his or her own, I suppose."
"Yeah, sure," Rigby muttered, restarting the level he had previously lost. "I guess. I mean, if you're just into that sort of stuff. But video games are still better. Now, if you don't mind…I have a level to beat."
The mole-girl focused her attention back to the road ahead. She slowly pushed her glasses further up her nose. Rigby was beginning to get absorbed further and further into the video game Eileen had let him borrow, and he knew Eileen took notice to that. He mentally smirked; at least he wouldn't be disturbed, leaving all of his concentration on the game.
"Sure Rigby," she said sweetly, as expected. "I'll just listen to sounds of nature instead."
"You do that."
The two continued to march on the seemingly endless highway. Rigby resumed his button mashing and his utter irritation over countless losses. They began to stack up. Every restart, every power-up, every button pressed…it didn't matter. He wasn't the best at video games, but one minor, insignificant level shouldn't get him all worked up.
Eileen shook her head lightly, rolling her eyes and laughing softly. "Rigby, do you need help with a level?"
Rigby grimaced and crossed his arms tautly. "No," he huffed, "I don't need your help."
Eileen giggled, "Whatever you say Rigby."
"Shut up," the raccoon whined, clearly declaring his defeat. He figured that the heat of the sun was sneaking under his skin, feeling that his act of defeat was too swift. His shoulders began to sag as they continued to trudge on the side of the road. Rigby grunted, "Ugh, how far have we been walking now?"
Eileen opened her mouth to speak, but abruptly shut it. She stopped in her tracks, gazing back at the highway. Rigby shot her a quizzical expression. "What?"
Eileen pointed out into the distance, "Look. I see a car coming by."
Rigby spun around, subconsciously shielding his eyes from the sun. He squinted, "Yeah, I think you're right."
"Here it comes," Eileen stated. Rigby rolled eyes at her statement of obvious fact. Suddenly, both of their expressions transformed into shock as a familiar blue jay accompanied by an equally familiar robin were screaming from the back of a run-of-the-mill car. It was decked out in tacky paint to cover the rust and the scratches and the dents. A shady character appeared to be the driver it, and his face reflected some sort of bizarre irrationality. Rigby guessed the guy was perhaps insane.
"Dude," Mordecai called out from a broken backseat window, "you've gotta rescue us. Some psychopaths abducted us and are keeping us prisoners or something." Yup, definitely insane. Neither the raccoon nor the mole-girl had a chance to reply. They both only had a glimpse of the vehicle before it sped by, and each only had a brief chance to hear Mordecai's voice. Both Mordecai and Margaret were tied up, and the sounds of their screams echoed as the car cruised off into the distance.
Rigby could hear Eileen call out his name in slight hesitation.
But she was too late. The raccoon had darted off in a sweat-filled run, a futile attempt to catch up to his best friend. Rigby huffed and puffed as the gap between him and that four-wheeled wreck widened. "Mordecai," he yelled, but the car soon vanished into the horizon. Rigby could hear Eileen shout after him, and his legs gradually slowed down. He hung his head in defeat. "Mordecai…" he muttered softly, kicking the ground beneath his feet.
The sounds of Eileen's footsteps grew closer and closer with each heavy breath he took. "Margaret," the mole-girl uttered sadly, exhaling deeply. "We have to go rescue them." Her voice echoed with a soft determination.
"Well yeah," Rigby said, "but how?"
He glanced over at Eileen, who wore a face different than her usual happy-go-lucky self. It wasn't of anger or sadness, but something of willpower, Rigby supposed. He shot her a skeptical look, but Eileen didn't care. Her voice was firm. "Well," she began, "we should start by heading towards the gas station. We're obviously not going to get anywhere by just standing here."
The raccoon could only nod slowly as Eileen's pace accelerated and the gap between them increased. He huffed as heat and sweat caught onto the furs on his back. The highway gave the impression of everlasting misery, a sea of asphalt flanked by a thicket of trees. Rigby had to practically run to catch up to the mole-girl. He shot her half a glare, but Eileen didn't falter in the slightest.
"Wait up," he coughed, irritated. "Geez…can't a guy catch a breath?"
Eileen shook her head. "Sorry Rigby," she said, but it didn't sound like it. "We just really have to hurry if we're going to have any chance at finding those two."
She looked at Rigby with hopeful eyes, but his were merely staring monotonously at the grays and greens and blues before him. The raccoon sulked, plopping his tail-end on the searing pavement underneath him. Rigby let out a cry of discomfort, but he didn't budge. He just lied there as the sun's rays sucked the moisture from his skin.
"No chance," he muttered softly. "No chance."
He could hear Eileen's voice being drowned out by the sun. Rigby felt her hands grip onto his arms in an attempt to pull him up, but he remained stationary. What were they thinking? Venturing out onto unfamiliar roads in the faintest hope of trying to rescue Mordecai and Margaret? Unthinkable.
And then suddenly, he was up on his feet, along with a fresh red mark clinging tightly to his cheek. Rigby frowned, rubbing his cheek in frustration. He shot Eileen a pure glare. "What was that for?" he hissed through gritted teeth.
The response he received was a shrug. Eileen gazed down at her hand with wonder. "Wow," she breathed, amazed at what she had done mere moments ago. She sighed, "I'm sorry Rigby. I really didn't mean too. I mean, I only did it because you seemed…off somehow. And so that you wouldn't waste any more time. We really should get going."
Rigby felt his eyes fall onto Eileen's hand. He had to admit, he himself was dumbfounded at what the mole-girl—the very same who had been crushing on him for so long—had done. He had no idea she was capable of such a feat. And boy, did that slap hurt.
"You didn't have to slap me," the raccoon mumbled out matter-of-factly. Rigby tended to his sore cheek.
"What other choice did I have?" Eileen asked as she twiddled her fingers. They both continued to march down the road, but not as hastily as before. Rigby caught Eileen glimpsing at him from time to time, but that was simply due to the fact that he was doing the same. Rigby tried to look away, but a new feeling that mixed anger, self-pity, and confusion surged within him.
"You didn't have to slap me," he repeated in a firm grumble.
"I dunno," Eileen began, "you seemed pretty delusional back there. I was afraid you either gave up or was suffering some sort of heat-related anxiety. It is awfully hot out here."
Rigby crossed his arms, increasing the distance between himself and Eileen. "What makes you think that I had given up? And that I am delusional?" he asked irately, eyeing the mole-girl in overly-evident suspicion. "You don't know. Maybe I was tired from all that heat and just decided to take a little nap."
"You crashed onto the ground," Eileen stated, "and then you just lied there, staring out into nowhere repeating 'No chance' over and over again. That sounds like giving up and delusion to me." Eileen's face was calm and steady, matching her voice and her diction. "And you know that every second counts. Why would you want to take a nap while our friends are probably being held hostage somewhere?"
"Friend," Rigby muttered lowly, but loud enough so that Eileen could hear him. He wiped the sweat of his palms down the side of his skin. He exhaled.
"What?" the mole-girl asked in bewilderment. Eileen halted in her tracks, as did Rigby. They eyed each other loosely. "What do you mean by that?"
"Margaret is your friend," Rigby insisted dryly, "not mine." The words rolled off his tongue like acid, and he got the feeling that what he was saying was merely babble. It didn't matter. If it was babble, he was still going to argue it.
She shook her head, "Come on now, Rigby. That can't be true. We were all having so much fun going camping together. Now you can't tell me that you don't consider Margaret your friend."
The raccoon felt Eileen's curious gaze fall onto his face. He shrugged. He honestly couldn't care less right now, as his sanity was being stolen by the sweat-absorber in the sky. He scratched the back of his neck. "The only reason you guys came in the first place was Mordecai," he said bluntly. "If it wasn't for his persistence, you wouldn't be here."
The mole-girl's mouth sulked into a sad frown. "While that may be true," she began, "you have to admit that we did have fun together." His frustrated expression didn't waver. "Come one Rigby," Eileen persisted, "you did have fun. And whether you want to admit it or not, Margaret is your friend."
"Whatever," the raccoon uttered through a staggered breath.
"Explain the camping trip," Eileen demanded, her patience clearly diminishing. She placed an indignant hand over her hip. Rigby's face remained unchanged, without the slightest twitch. "How can you say that she's not your friend when we were clearly having a good time?"
"Why does it matter anyways?" Rigby asked. He shifted his attention back to the road and proceeded to move forward. Eileen gravitated in his direction, but lingered behind. Rigby didn't even bother to glance this time. "Look, let's just drop it for now. It's like you said, Eileen. Every second counts."
Their last conversation felt like a distorted blip in the raccoon's mind. What had they just said? What had he just done? Did he really give up back there, having to resort to Eileen's forceful slap to reawaken him back to sanity? No, he would never give up, especially not in front of Eileen.
The sound of Eileen's voice broke Rigby's train of thought. "Rigby," she uttered hesitantly.
This time he bothered to glance at the mole-girl, doing so over his shoulder. The raccoon couldn't help but roll his eyes. "What?"
"Am I your friend?" she asked slowly. Her expression seemed neither sad nor impatient. It was more as if Eileen was just…waiting. Waiting for something, something more than just his response. Nah, it couldn't be that.
He contemplated her question and the possible reactions that could emerge as a result of his answer. Wait. Exactly why was he contemplating? Eileen wasn't his friend; he didn't like her. Not at all. She was just some weird chick who had a crush on him. And extremely annoying, might he add. But somehow, Rigby couldn't convince himself to blurt these thoughts out loud. He didn't say anything, and Eileen didn't bother to press him any further.
Part 2 of 5.