Afternoon was waning when they finally reached the Slateport Contest Hall. Neither of them had said more than five words to the other during the walk there, but Drew at least had a plan for reconciliation. May, however, was still being obstinate, either refusing to speak or attacking Drew with piercing words.
As they neared the contest hall, May felt nostalgic-the Slateport contest was the first one she had ever entered. Coincidentally, it was where she had met and faced Drew for the first time as well. Just taking in the scene of coordinators and their Pokémon was enough to make her remember her debut jitters. A small smile lifted the gloom from her face.
She and Drew registered quickly; the deadline for this year's Hoenn Grand Festival was six o'clock, and they had arrived a little after five. Looking at the clock, she realized how long she had gone without speaking a civil phrase to Drew. It had been more than seven hours since their quarrel, and she was getting tired of the silence. Somewhere inside her mind she knew it was childish, but she had been very upset at Drew's insult. It hadn't been so much the content of his words as their mere existence. Sure, he had said worse when he was younger, but now it was different. Now she trusted him.
After registering, they hurried out of the contest hall, which was already buzzing with excitement. As they had each won the Hoenn Grand Festival once and placed in the finals or quarterfinals the rest of the time, they often had to evade swarms of fans waiting to bombard them with questions, among other things. It used to be flattering; now it was just obnoxious.
At the exit, Drew turned to May. "There's something I have to do by myself. Is it okay if I call you on your Pokenav later?"
"Sure," she replied. Without another word she headed toward the beach.
She kept up a brisk pace until she was sure he couldn't see her anymore, then let her pace slow to a natural walking speed. Though he seemed apologetic, she still had to make it clear that he had crossed the line. What a jerk, to make her trust him and then attack her from inside.
But perhaps her treatment of him was just as unfair. Her footsteps slowed to a stop. It had only been one comment, and he had apologized immediately after. Was it such a crime to say something wrong by mistake?
Even so, it had hurt. She was already painfully aware of how attractive Drew was compared to her. All of him screamed sexy: sexy hair, sexy face, sexy body, sexy voice, and most of all, sexy eyes. Damn his sexiness. It was even worse when he rubbed it in her face like that. She knew he had dated several girls all just as gorgeous as he was - slim yet curvy, with model-perfect faces. In fact, two of them had been models. Next to those puffed-up poodles, May looked like a deflated little terrier. If she had ever thought he was out of her league, she knew it now more than ever.
May began to walk again, but now she looked around her. She had wandered into Slateport's busiest outdoor market, where brightly colored booths lined a large street that led to the beach. Many sold ocean-related trinkets, foods, and apparel, though some displayed handmade crafts as well. With a jolt, May realized she had walked into a crowd. Residents, tourists and Pokémon trainers flowed around her in an unceasing current. Everyone seemed cheerful, energized by the excitement of an outdoor market and the salty sea air. No one traveled alone. A couple here, a family there - and all of a sudden May felt lonelier than ever.
Just then, a flash of red caught her eye. May moved toward it. On a table marked "Glass Sculptures" lay a rose pin fashioned out of red and green glass. It was no larger than May's thumb, but each leaf and petal was exquisitely crafted: she could see every vein, every dewdrop. The effect was breathtaking. May stood there for a long time, a strange feeling welling up in her chest. For a moment, she remembered the first rose Drew had ever given her.
But then the moment was gone, and though some part of her longed to buy the rose, her mind rebelled against it. What would she do with something like that, anyway? It would probably break while she was traveling. It was pretty, but that was all. For it to be hers forever was a fantasy she could never achieve.
After May had walked off, Drew had watched her go and then headed immediately to the Harton.
The Harton was located on Slateport's oceanfront, an elegant rise of glass and steel. It was frequented by celebrities, though the only time Drew had ever stayed the night was during the contest where he had met May. Dimly he remembered boasting about staying there as opposed to staying at the Pokemon Center. What a spoiled, conceited brat he had been. This time, though, he would be staying there for different reasons.
When he had finished his preparations there, he called May. Now the clock read six and the sun was starting to set.
"Hello, May?"
"Yes?"
"Where are you?"
"The Slateport Market. Where are you?"
"I'll tell you later. Wait right there; I'll find you."
"Why?"
But Drew had already hung up and called a taxi. The market was located right in the middle of the city, and the Harton was on the western side. By the time the cab had reached the market, fifteen minutes had passed. Drew told the driver to let him off just outside the throng of booths, and he broke into a sprint.
When he saw her he stopped. May stood amid a shower of bouquets, her face lit in a glow from the setting sun, while sprays of lily of the valley cascaded around her as the breeze caressed her hair. Now that evening was near, the crowds had thinned, their sound a murmur. And through it all, the scent of roses was filling the air. Drew couldn't tell whether his heart was racing from the run or from the sight.
"Took you a while," said May, noticing him. Her tone was softer than before. "Where were you?"
"You'll find out soon. But first-" he ignored her protest and stepped past her to place a few bills on the flower merchant's table, "-these are for you."
In one gesture he handed her a bouquet bursting with red roses. He could tell she was taken aback; her mouth dropped slightly and he could almost swear that a blush suffused her cheeks. Fervently he hoped following his impulse had been a good idea.
She took the bouquet, her eyes questioning and disbelieving, unsure and maybe a little afraid. Drew knew he had to break the silence, so he said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have insulted you earlier."
"It's okay," she replied quietly. "I overreacted anyway. So... where are we going now?"
Without replying, he called up a taxi. When they had stepped inside and the cabbie had asked for their destination, Drew said, "The Harton."
"What?" said May. "Isn't that the one by the beach? The really tall glass one?"
"If there's another Harton around here, please tell me," Drew said mischievously. For the first time that afternoon, he smiled. "I just thought that if I was going to apologize, I might as well go all the way."
"But," sputtered May, "why the Harton?"
"I've always wanted to visit it again," Drew said smoothly. "What do you want me to say? That I'm not really apologizing and that I'm just using it as an excuse to indulge myself? Okay, I am."
"Drew!" she laughed, bashful. Mind whirling, she hugged the bouquet closer to her, feeling its crinkly mass press against her chest as the intoxicating aroma of roses filled her lungs. Wasn't this a bit much for a simple apology? But he had said he wanted to go there anyway. What did it mean? Did it mean anything?
"So did you buy anything at the market?" Drew asked, after several moments of silence. May shook her head.
"No, I didn't see anything I wanted, aside from a rose pin that looked nice, but it looked too fragile. Not like I could use it for anything, anyway."
"What kind of rose pin?"
She looked at him, surprised that he would be so interested. "It was really detailed. Made of glass."
"Oh. Sounds nice," he said. May watched him suspiciously, but she could tell nothing from his expression. For a moment she debated asking him more about the Harton but decided against it. If he wanted to be mysterious, she would let him.
Fifteen minutes of small talk later, she found herself being escorted out of the cab and through the a set of double doors that led into a spacious lobby. Instead of approaching the front desk as she expected, Drew handed her a card key and led her in the opposite direction while asking a porter to take the bouquet to their room. They proceeded down a hall, a short flight of stairs, and then through an open courtyard where a luxurious fountain gushed, colored lights illuminating each jet with a different hue. Mesmerized by the richness of her surroundings, May almost didn't notice that Drew had brought her to the entrance of a restaurant. When she did, she recognized the name immediately-the Solabel was one of the Harton's best, a high-class, high-priced venue that she had heard of only in more privileged social circles. Most of what she knew was that it served trainers and coordinators of celebrity status. Of course she was a celebrity herself, but restaurants like the Solabel required reservations made months in advance, and the prices were bank-breaking at best. She hadn't had the time nor had the patience to make a visit worth the trouble, yet Drew had somehow managed to secure a table for two.
A server led them to a covert little alcove away from the entrance and, after the initial courtesies, left them. May wasted no time in asking her companion how he had acquired a table at the Solabel without a reservation, though she already had an idea.
"My parents," stated Drew, without a hint of conceit. "I'm sure you know that they own a fairly large textile company called Zensheng, Inc."
"I figured that was it. Still, all of this for one apology? You really don't have to go this far," she protested.
"No, I do have to go this far."
"Why?"
He gave her a long look. At that moment their server brought them water, and they thanked her. A long pause ensued. Drew seemed lost in thought. Just as May was feeling disappointed that she would never know the answer to her question, Drew spoke up again.
"I would go this far and farther for you any day."
The sentence dropped like dye into water, coloring May's face a shade of pink. For once in her life she truly appreciated the subtleties of dim lighting. Did she dare ask another "why"? What could the answer be, and would she accept that answer, whatever it was?
In the end, she refrained from asking as their server returned and took their orders, but now the silence between them pressed on May's heart. Perhaps he had wanted her to ask. No, it couldn't be. They had both "friend zoned" each other since long ago, not by a voiced agreement, of course, but through a silent understanding.
And now he was throwing her a whole bouquet of roses. And a high-class dinner. And a room at one of Slateport's finest hotels.
He must want something, and I don't think it's just forgiveness, said her mind, even as she became mesmerized by the elegance with which he ate his meal. I have to ask.
"Drew... really... why are you doing this?"
Her rival and companion didn't hesitate to answer this time. "I wanted to make it up to you."
"For what you said earlier? It wasn't that big of a deal-"
"No, not just that. Actually, what I've done so far isn't even close to 'making it up to you.' I'll just have to pay in installments," he added with a smile.
May, on the other hand, was not smiling. "Drew, if you're going to be so mysterious about everything, I might as well just leave, because it seems like I'm never going to find out what you want from me."
"I'll tell you later. I promise."
With a resigned sigh, May continued her meal. This would be a long night.