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Chapter 9: Pure Sugar

The answers are all out there, you just need to ask the right questions.

~Oscar Wilde

His hands soaked the paper in his hands with sweat. He had no idea where the sweat came from, but it rushed down his palms as if they were sponges that refused to soak in more water. He put down the paper so that it won't become more ruined. His heart was thumping, and he felt heat on his cheeks. He was so focused on his thoughts, he didn't notice the boxes of chocolate once again delivered to his desk.

What are you so nervous about, Boomer? He thought to himself. He thought about the question to search for its answers in his mind. What if she doesn't want to come with me? What if she was busy? He was worried about rejection. He didn't know why he was worried all of a sudden about what she would say in response.

Just when he was thinking, something--more like someone--caught his eyes in the doorway of the classroom. It was Bubbles. She shined bright with a beautiful, blue aura. She walked over and sat down next to him.

"Hi," she said in her usual cheerful attitude. She saw the wet piece of paper in front of him and giggled. "Did you accidentally spill something on it? It's okay. I do it all the time."

Boomer gathered the courage to speak. "Uh, no, actually. My hands are really sweaty," he replied. He noticed the boxes of chocolate and quickly shoved it in his backpack (wherever he got it). Bubbles was surprised how honest he was. She found it adorable.

"Oh," she laughed a little more. "What's it for? Is it a speech? Everyone gets nervous when they do speeches. It's normal."

"It's for y-you, actually," he couldn't hold himself back from stuttering. Funny, this didn't happen the other day. "It's a list of more questions I want to ask y-you. I was thinking...maybe w-we can go to the p-park again," he paused thinking that he made it sound too forceful. "If that's okay with you, of course!"

Bubbles, on the other hand, was very pleased that he asked. She was actually thinking of asking him the same thing, but she was worried that he would refuse. So, of course, she replied: "Sure!" in a cheerful way.

Boomer was very glad she agreed. "G-great!"

Although she was happy, she had to admit, she kind of wished it was a letter to her of some sort. Maybe like a love letter! she thought cheerfully. If it was, she would be able to prove to her sisters that he and his brothers aren't evil anymore.

"Hey, Bubbles?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"Do you have light power too? When you walked in her, you shined really bright," he said to her.

Bubbles blushed at his comment. Although it did sound like a super-sweet (well, Bubbles thinks everything is sweet) but cheesy pick-up line, she knows he didn't mean for it to be. He said it way too casually and not in a flirtatious way. Heck, he probably doesn't know what a pick-up line is! "Yes, Boomer," she smiled and tried to hold in her laugh. "I do have light power."

"Wow, that's cool!" Boomer was suddenly fascinated. "How come I don't have it?" He looked at his hands.

She got the guts to reply to him. "Don't worry, you do," she was sure he wouldn't know what she meant.

"Really?" he asked and turned around to search for it. "I can't see it."

She laughed. "Just like I can't see mine, you can't see your own."

"Is that how it works?"

"Mmhm!" He was so sweet. Naturally. There's no reason why she shouldn't be the same for him back.

"Okay, class," the teacher started. "Today, you will create an artwork that describes you. You may use anything in the classroom, paper, magazines, scissors, and so on. When you are finished, share it with the person next to you. Go." And we all started.

After several minutes of working, Bubbles looked over at Boomer's. His artwork was nothing she ever saw before. He was really good. Reminding herself that this project is meant to describe the artist, she focused her interest on what he was presenting on the paper. She was not expecting images of explosions and crushed buildings for sure (she expected that from his brothers) since she always knew he was different. She was surprised, though, when she noticed that his work was covered with bold, colorful words rather than images or pictures. She was even more shocked when she read the words.

Responsibility. Respect. Loyalty. Kindness. Forgiveness. Intelligence. Generosity.

They were all written with different fonts and colored with different colors to match the meaning of each words. It's almost as if he was doing this for years.

"Oh my, Boomer. That's amazing!" She complemented him. Boomer looked up in surprise as he wasn't aware she was looking. He quickly covered it with his arms. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you like that!" She apologized.

"Oh no, i-it's okay. I'm the one who s-should be sorry," he said nervously.

She was confused. "For what?"

"The only reason I can do this well is because," he paused and sighed. "I g-graffitied all the time." He looked at his work sadly.

He feels guilty and ashamed about it, she thought immediately in a sympathetic way. But being her sweet self, she quickly found the perfect words to comfort him. She gently placed her hand on his. His heart punched his chest as if his rib cage was a punching bag.

"Graffiti is an incredible type of art. Graffiti itself is great, but having graffiti on the city walls is illegal. Graffiti on paper is a whole different story."

Such an insightful comment, he thought. "You think so?" He smiled I her.

"I only say what I mean!" She smiled back. He didn't stutter, she thought. He doesn't do it when he thinks he's doing something...good, she noticed.

He glanced over at her artwork. Hers were rather filled with images than words. The sketches were drawn neatly and not in messy lines as if she knew exactly what she was going to fill the surface of the paper with. He could see that she was good at drawing people. They were drawn beautifully in a semi realistic style. The shadings were accurate, and all of their faces had a pure smile.

"A peaceful world, huh? A hero like you would wish for that," he said. "I wish I can smile like that as bright as that." He pointed at one of the people on her paper. He had no idea where that came from. She looked at him. "I-I mean...well...I d-don't know where that came from..."

Something's not right, she thought. This was the type of thing she has to report to her sisters. "Are you okay?" She asked just in case he might say something.

"Y-yeah, I'm okay."

She pretended that she was convinced. "Okay. Well, we shared our work to each other, so I guess we're done with our work!"

"Y-yeah."

They spent the rest of the period doodling random things on another piece of paper. It became silent as they were lost in their own thoughts.

I really hope that wasn't a sign of something they are planning to do, she thought.

Why did I say that? He had so many wonders in his head.

-0-0-0-

School ended safely, and Bubbles went off to the park. She saw that cat again from the other day. Her habit of the inability to ignore an animal kicked in, and she started pet the cat. It seemed like it remembered her, so it didn't flinch away when she tried to touch it like the last time.

"Do you remember me?" She asked it gently.

Yes. She can feel it saying.

The cat meowed in a high-pitched tone. Just like yesterday before he came. For some strange reason, she couldn't figure out what that indicated as if spoke a whole different language. Just like yesterday before he came.

"What do you mean?" She asked curiously. The cat looked at her. She was surprised when she saw its eyes. The color was almost identical to hers. Her sisters and she was created, therefore the color of their eyes was impossible to have for a person born naturally. Blue eyes and green eyes exist, but never in Bubbles' aqua--almost turquoise--shade and Buttercup's bright, lime green shade. She also noticed the cat's white fur coat that went along very well with its eyes. She loved the combination of those colors.

"Oh my, how did you get those eyes?" She asked. The cat didn't make a sound.

Another hand appeared next to hers on the cat's white fur. It stroked it the same way she did. Just like yesterday. She looked to see Boomer sitting down next to her.

She could not believe he was the same villain she was fighting nine years ago. He had such a gentle touch as if he never actually learned how to fight. She looked at his ocean blue eyes that shined with kindness and gentleness.

At least, she expected them to.

They were dark and gloomy almost as if he was extremely hurt and in pain. A hero like her can notice that.

"Boomer, are you sure you're okay?" She asked him worriedly. They didn't notice the cat tip-toeing away.

"I'm... I'm fine," he said as casually as possible even though he completely failed. She couldn't imagine Boomer so depressed as he is this kind (for an ex-villain).

"Okay," she pretended to shake it off. "So how about those questions?"

"Oh, right," he said and he dug into his back to take out his dry-with-sweat paper. He started with the simplest question. "How is being good good? And what does it feel like?"

"Well, think about it, Boomer," she stated. "How did it feel like when you apologized to me?"

"Like...I got something off after carrying it for a long time."

"You call that feeling, 'relief.' And relief is a positive feeling. So doing good things will bring you positive things. If you want something good to happen to you, you have to be good." She smiled at the fact that she sounded like a mom before Christmas.

"What are some good things that happened to you guys?"

"Oh, there are lots of things! We won awards, we made lots of friends--"

"'Friends?'" He repeated.

"Yeah! You know, people who you can talk with, hang out with, close with. Someone you are attached to."

"Do you love your friends, too?"

"Of course! They're great to be with!"

He nodded and glanced over at his paper again. He picked another question. "Do you know the answer to everything?"

She laughed at his adorable curiosity. "No, Boomer. But I think my sister does."

"How come you know the answer to everything I ask you?"

"Remember the time when," she paused and blushed, "you asked me 'why can I talk to you so easily than other girls?' or 'why does my heart pound when you're around?'"

"Oh, yeah."

"I didn't know how to answer that, right?"

He thought about it. "Oh, yeah. I forgot. And the other day, why did you say that I'm smart? No one calls me smart."

"Everyone is smart in a way. They all have their strengths and weaknesses. Even us with superpowers."

"What's mine?"

She smiled at him. "Sometimes, its a lot better to find things out by yourself rather than asking someone."

He looked down. "Oh, sorry. You could have told me earlier that my questions annoyed you..."

She panicked. "Oh, no! Boomer! You're taking it the wrong way!" He looked up her with wide eyes. "I love answering questions for you as much as I love helping people. It's my job." She put her hand on his shoulder. "What I meant to say is that it might be more easier to understand an answer if you find it out yourself."

"I've been thinking about lots of questions, but I haven't found the answer to most of them yet."

"Don't worry, Boomer. Keep coming up with questions. You'll find it eventually."

There was silence. It worried Bubbles making her think she disappointed him. What if he doesn't like me anymore? Is he upset that I said that to him? She needed answers as well. It was hard to tell any other emotions other than sad in his gloomy eyes.

While she was worried, Boomer was impressed at what she said. Maybe he needed to rephrase the questions. Maybe he didn't understand his own questions as well. Maybe he should break it down.

"Bubbles?"

"Y-yeah?" She was scared at what he was going to say to her.

But without a thought he asked her immediately? "Were you destined for me? Why do I feel lonely without you? Why do I want to see you? Why do I care about you?" Bubbles was shocked and turned to him. He turned to her slowly after expecting an answer. Her facial expression was in shock, but at the same time, her aqua blue eyes sparkled with excitement and delight that he wasn't able to tell. They stared at each other as if they were trying to read something in an unknown language.

Bubbles looked down to hide her blushing face and smiled. That's so sweet of him to say, she thought. Even though he doesn't realize it. He didn't stutter, too. His words are pure. She came up with an reply. "I'm sorry, Boomer. I'm not sure." He was slightly disappointed until she said: "But I feel the same way about you all the time." She smiled that angelic smile of hers once again. This time, he was certain that it was the purest, brightest thing he has ever seen. He almost wanted to steal it as if it was something expensive.

Something fluttered inside his stomach, and the temperature rose. His eyes widened in surprise. It's not only me feeling this way? He thought. Bubbles swear she saw his eyes turn from gloomy to gleamy for the first time. She thought it was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.

"Did you just raise the temperature again?"

"Maybe I did," she replied and laughed. Boomer couldn't help but do the same. Bubbles was so happy to see him laugh for the first time, she couldn't describe it with words.

This girl was adding pure sugar to his world.

A pink and red streak crossed the sky, but they were too distracted to notice. It was the same for the streaks to notice them.

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