Girls Are Weird
Wilbur had to admit, though only after the fact and never out loud, that Wyeth's plan had actually been quite brilliant—but he only thought so because he didn't like those guys! Jake and his bullies would never admit that they'd been beaten by a girl—let alone a scrawny one less than a third their size. Well, that and nobody who witnessed the event believed it. Wilbur almost didn't believe it himself.
And yet he blew his chance to ask her about it, since the only time he'd been close enough for the rest of the day was during Maths. For a while, she looked like she was being tortured, but managed to fall asleep soon enough. Actually, she held her breath so she could pass out.
He smirked when he recalled the memory.
Mr Spook—uh, Spoon—woke her up and she had jolted to her feet shouting, "Ghost!" and nearly, but not quite, punched him. Despite the dazed look on her face, she almost looked a bit embarrassed.
Spoon, of course, was furious, and gave her Detention. He probably thought she was making a reference to his "Affectionate Nickname" the students had given him... But, then again, she did almost punch him, and Spoon was strictly anti-violence...
Wilbur didn't get any other chances during the next class, and suddenly the school day had come to an end, leaving him surprisingly annoyed.
And that was when he suddenly found himself face-to-face with Alaila, one of the school's most popular girls... and the freakiest. He jumped back in surprise and she did that bizzare, unattractive smile and said in a snide nasal fake-accented voice, "Oh, you will be coming to this year's freshman-sophomore Morp, Wilbur. Won't you?"
Two commonly known facts amongst the student body: Alaila was a b*tch, and she thought Wilbur was cute. She was in the sophomore year, and was usually the mind behind much of Jake's bullying.
Which was why he knew immediately that she wasn't asking, she was demanding.
"Um... yeah, 'course. Why wouldn't I," he said with a fake smile, desperately trying not to back away slowly. Alaila was 7 types of evil.
She smiled even wider and giggled as she flounced back to her "friends" to report the news.
Wilbur tried his hardest to not look like he was running away or fleeing but he guessed that, by the sound of the annoying gaggle of girls' giggling like there was no tomorrow, he failed.
Man, he really hated those girls and he would never, ever, understand them. Ever.
By the time he got home, though, he had already almost forgotten his run-in with Alaila had ever happened. And as he walked in the door, ignoring the twins and greeting Lefty, the first thing he heard, as always, was his mom calling out for him to make sure he got his homework done.
And, as always, he'd call out the exact same response.
But first... he was going to play chargeball.
And then he would get to the bottom of this.
...After dinner. Obviously.
It had been four days since Wyeth had beaten Jake and his bullies and now it was Saturday. Which meant, of course, no school. He was no closer to answers, but the answer seemed to be right there, taunting him.
Not that those four days hadn't been slightly amusing, mind you. Every day whenever one of Jake or his bullies opened their lockers something new would happen. The first day was lots of sticky, glowing pink stuff all over Jake, making his hair glow pink—it didn't even fade the next day. Of course, this put him in a rotten mood, but it was absolutely hilarious.
It got crazier and weirder each day, and though the out-of-school-hours security cameras couldn't catch the culprit, he was absolutely sure he knew who was behind it all...
Oh yeah, and the Chargeball room was down for a software update, which meant he was bored on a Saturday morning, which automatically had him in a moderately bad mood.
He heard a noise behind him, a growling grunting snort.
"Not now, Tiny," Wilbur groaned, fiddling with the chargeball glove on his hand. He wasn't exactly supposed to... or really allowed... to have the chargeball glove out of the game room, but he had never had a problem with it unless his mom was around, and she was out at a performance with the frogs until after lunch.
He heard the noise again, this time accompanied by the dinosaur using his snout to shove Wilbur off his perch on one of the "sculpted" trees.
"Aaagh," exclaimed Wilbur, the sudden fall unexpected, making him greet the ground with his face. He lay there a moment before rolling over, unimpressed with the Tyrannosaurus, who looked extremely happy, wagging his entire lower body.
Suddenly Wilbur got an idea, and stood up. "You wanna play," he asked Tiny.
Tiny perked up, wagging his tail even faster.
So Wilber charged up the chargeball glove and, throwing an energy ball as far as he could, shouted, "Then, FETCH!"
The ground quaked as Tiny chased after the orange-red ball of light and Wilbur nearly fell over again.
"Pfff," he drew out, rolling his eyes. "Dinosaurs."
Wyeth scrunched up the newspaper article, tossing it so hard it rebounded, landing several meters away, on the kitchen floor. She had been re-reading some old archives left in some old boxes she'd left abandoned for who knows how long, but it was beginning to depress her.
She paused, taking a breath and holding it, snatching up the scrunched up paper ball, smoothing it out again. She muttered something that even the wind didn't hear before sighing and walking to the recycling bin. "Sometimes, you just gotta let it go," she said, holding the paper ball over the bin.
"I mean," she said, interrupting herself, pulling the ball back from over the mouth of the bin, "this is killing me, just going on clinging to the past. You're in the freaking now, Wy. Get outta your Gorram head already and get on with your forsaken existence. You won't survive this otherwise." She was well aware she was talking to herself, but the words reverberating calmly off the kitchen walls were doing miracles for her inner turmoil.
"My memories aren't letting me forget, I know that. But I have to try and let go of it somehow. I let go of Dolph. I let go of Caed. I let go of them all, but you just need to accept that there's nothing you can do, and life goes on."
She took a deep breath, holding the scrunched up ball of ancient newspaper in her hand. But she couldn't let go.
"You damn coward," she snarled, forcing her hand to drop it into the bin with a smug smile.
"Was that so hard," Wyeth asked herself in faux cheer, barely resisting the urge to grab the scrap out of there. "Now that I've started, though, why stop?"And she grinned in uncanny energy as she put as many hurtful pictures and articles in the bin as possible, even going so far as to throw whole newspapers in there.
It actually was... really, really fun, surprising Wy even more than her relinquishing such treasured objects of emotional pain and torment.
When she ran out of newspaper and photos, she actually whined in disappointment.
Then she, in a learned act of lucidness, changed her thought process like switching off a light switch. "Ok," she said firmly. "Now I want hot fudge and ice cream. And some old fashioned Ribena. But they don't make than any more... so sad. What about red wine? Nah, too blek... Cherries, then? Yup. Ok. Cherries chopped up into little tiny pieces with hot fudge and vanilla ice cream. Cool."
And she was off again, in a much happier mood than when she started.
"After this, I shall work out until I get tired enough to do my homework," she declared. "Or I will just... not do homework. I do not like homework! But I'll do it anyway. OOOHHHH! FUDGE!"
1485 words
I asked for just one review, even if it was an anonymous "Keep Writing". I got four. Four. That is so fricking awesome! So, thanks to you guys, there is now this new chapter.
Sorry if it sucks, I nearly got writer's block halfway through, but I let myself put down suckish words until I got my mojo back. So if you detect something suckish, that was my writer's block kicking in... I tried cleaning it up, but things sometimes slip through the cracks, you know.
...Title was randomly thought up.
Next chapter definitely gets some DP-verse action. I promise. And you know what my friend says about that, don't you? Read last chapter's Author notes if you don't. You Skimmer.
Plus, have any requests on some DP characters to appear, or some Fenton inventions (new or old) to appear? I may just take some of those suggestions if you do...
Celebrities are people who spend their whole lives looking for fame, then hide behind dark glasses so that nobody knows who they are.
Oui revoir~
