Ashville Academy
~ Aloha angels. This chapter is quite exciting, if I do say so myself. Not only do you get to peer into the mind of Blossom Utonium, but you get to hear just how the Jojo brothers survived in Willow Cress - with no parents and no money. I'm sure a few of you have been curious, well you're about to find out. Enjoy ~
Disclaimer - I own absolutely nothing apart from Daisey McCoy and Chase Alexander Royale. I take no claim for the song lyrics in this chapter or the other characters.
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Previously; "I may not be a superhero anymore, but that doesn't mean I will sit back and let my guard down. If you came here for a reason, I will stop you."
I jumped in to defend myself. "I did come here for a reason, Blossom! I came here because my brother - my human brother - got into a fight and I entered it to help him. My brothers and I are here because we made a mistake and now we're paying for it, the human way," She blinked at me, surprised by my words. "Tell me this, if I really was here to do something hideous, why would I try so hard to get you to believe my reformation? Why would I bother to try to reach out to you?"
Blossom was deadly silent, so much that I could hear the rough breathing coming from her mouth. I watched her eyes carefully. More realisation, more pity, more worry and care, more human emotion that I craved and didn't understand too well.
She took a step towards me and I felt the need to take a step back, but I didn't, I looked her dead-on and waited to here what she had to say. She licked her lips and once she had, I couldn't move my sight from said lips. It was only when she spoke that our eyes met again.
"There is so much that I don't understand about you." She whispered softly.
"Then let me tell you," I insisted, taking another step towards her. "Let me tell you everything that I endured after leaving Townsville, everything that I did to fix who I was," I lowered my voice and sighed, almost reaching out a wary hand. "Let me in."
The tension thickened around us until I blinked and Blossom had moved to my side. I turned to look at her but she kept her back to me.
"I can't," She muttered. I watched as she took another step. "I won't be naive, I won't trust someone who once tried to end my life," She looked at me from across her shoulder and frowned. "But I'm sorry. And I do believe you. I just can't act on that."
And just like that, she was walking away, and I was left with nothing but shock in my eyes and pain in my stomach. Every bone in my body was aching at the sudden distance from her, and I didn't understand why.
But she believed in me.
XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo
Don't let them in, don't let them see.
Be the good girl you always have to be.
Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know.
Well now they know.
- Idina Menzel/Demi Lovato, Let It Go
Tuesday, February 12th, 2013.
6:23 a.m.
(Blossom)
Blossom Utonium's POV
On Tuesday morning, I was the first to get to the bathroom for a shower. It wasn't on purpose either, I just hadn't been able to catch the last hour of sleep that I had left. I had been tossing and turning for most of the night, for a reason that I wasn't aware of. I guess I just had a lot on my mind, which was natural, what with how insane my week had been.
I didn't really care for the showers in Ashville Academy at all.
The cubicle was crushingly small, so compact that I was being suffocated by the steam surrounding my body. As it crashed down, the water burned and seeped into my skin both irritatingly and refreshingly. The sting of heat was enough to wake me up - the equivalent to a cup of coffee.
As I rubbed the provided conditioner into my hair, I found myself thinking back onto my conversation with Brick three days earlier. We hadn't spoken since then, and he avoided so much as looking in my direction. I would still catch him gazing at me occasionally, but it was brief, over in a matter of seconds.
I hated knowing that he was mad at me. I liked to think of myself as a people pleaser, and just being aware of his harsh feelings towards me made me feel horrible and imperfect. I really didn't think that me rejecting him would have such an effect. Why would Brick Jojo want to be friends with me in the first place? I mean, we do have a lot of things in common, what with us sharing a counterpart bond and so forth. And we could talk to each other about books and important issues that our siblings just didn't understand. And when I looked at him, I could feel the connection that neither of us wanted to admit.
I realised that being friends with him seemed so right, but it was still so wrong and so confusing. We would never be able to put our past behind us. We would always remember the times that we fought, the times where we were just so against everything that made the other who we were. I was good and he was evil. How could we possibly just forget that?
Brick had literally been created to be my evil carbon copy, to destroy my chances of saving Townsville, only I wasn't a superhero anymore, and Brick officially had zero real purpose in life besides to go where life took him. It made me sad just thinking about it. But I couldn't feel sorry for him. I wouldn't allow sympathy to cloud my judgment.
I quickly washed the conditioner out of my waist-length hair. Well, quickly wasn't true. It took so long to wash my hair considering it's length. I would never be able to follow the 'fifteen-minute' shower rule, unless I wanted to go to class with dishevelled hair, which I would never do.
Once my hair was perfected, I turned the shower hose off and took a hold of the white, cotton towel slung over the shower stall door. I dried myself off with the towel, giving extra time and attention to my hair, of course, and then I wrapped myself in the cotton before stepping out of the shower and into the coldness of the bathroom.
Luckily, it was empty, although I knew that the other students would be getting up soon to shower before breakfast. The female students took so much time getting themselves ready in the morning. All that I ever needed was a long shower and five minutes to change and occasionally apply make up. It took Buttercup even less time than that, considering she never made much effort with her clothing choices and never bothered with make up - it wasn't like she needed it anyway. I won't even go into how long it takes Bubbles to get ready. I was surprised that she hadn't burst into the bathroom yet with her hair curlers and her make up box.
That's right. Box. Not bag.
I made my way towards the bathroom mirror to inspect my appearance. I instantly spotted two dark bags under my eyes and I cursed silently. While waking up early had its perks, it also had its disadvantages. I was glad that I had brought some make up into the bathroom with me. There wasn't much, but enough to make my eyes appear less dead. All it took was a little concealer to hide the bags, and a couple brushes of mascara to divert attention away from under the eyes, and I was perfect.
After I had solved the issue, I reached out to grab the fresh clothes that I had laid out on the corner of the sink before going for my shower and quickly changed into them.
Of course, I had chosen to wear the Elle Harris blouse that Daisey had shown me. For some reason I felt drawn to it because it was different. I used to hate change, but as of now, change was the only thing that I seemed to crave, for whatever reason I am not sure. I also picked out a thigh-high white taffeta skirt and thin black tights, as those were the only items of attire that would suit the blouse. I wasn't exactly going to rock an Elle Harris shirt and pair of discount jeans. Daisey would never let me hear the end of it.
As I smoothed the wrinkles out of my shirt and met my made-up eyes in the mirror, I wondered if Brick would bother me with a glance today.
XoXoXoXoXoXo
8:03 a.m.
I had just sat down at a table in my first class of the morning; French. I thought that it was a great start to the day. I actually enjoyed French class, mainly because I'm fluent in French, therefore I can do my work without problem. Buttercup, however, hated the class. She had always been a smart person, but when it came to remembering dialogue in a language different from her own, she became moronic.
The class was anything but quiet. All around, students were chatting to each other, some in hushed tones as not to disrupt the lesson, and others not. I was disappointed to realise that the loudest talkers in all of the room was Bubbles and Daisey, who were sitting beside each other in the table in front of mine. Daisey was telling Bubbles the tale of when she once went to a lavish party back in Australia, and found that she was wearing the exact same dress as someone else. Of course, to me, that was nothing, but Daisey was speaking of it as if it were a fate worse than death.
Trying to drown out their voices, I turned my head to the left and looked out at the other students. Two tables away from mine, Chase was sat beside Butch, with Brick sitting at the table on the left to them. I looked at the side of Brick's face and frowned. I felt so guilty about our conversation. I knew in my heart that I believed his story. No one - not even Brick - was that good of a liar. I saw the look in his eyes. And yet, I didn't act on it, because admitting to anyone else that I believed him wouldn't end well for me.
I was being selfish.
As I attempted to drown my sorrows and stop staring at Brick's face, I felt my upper arm being poked at. I blinked back into reality and turned my head around to look at Buttercup, whose finger was still jabbing into my arm.
She eyed my blouse and raised on of her eyebrows. "Is that a new shirt?"
I glanced down at the gorgeous blouse clinging to my shoulders and stomach and I nodded in response. "Daisey picked it out for me." I told her.
Hearing her name being called, Daisey turned around in her seat to face us, causing Bubbles to do the same. Daisey flashed us a bright smile as she studied the shirt that she had found for me. She looked proud of herself - or maybe she was just proud that I had actually worn it instead of going through with my plan to stick on a plain pink T-shirt.
"Doesn't she look stunning?" Daisey asked my sister.
I had never been called stunning before.
Beautiful - twice. Once by my father on my first day of school, and once by my high-school boyfriend, Richard.
Cute - Once by Bubbles on the day that I wore my first summer dress.
But never stunning.
"Why the change of wardrobe?" Bubbles piped up, her light blue eyes shining in curiosity and wonder and even a little jealousy.
Bubbles had tried to get to dress differently for years. She would lecture me on the important debate of pretty versus plain, and she took me shopping five times during out summer holiday two years before just to pick out clothes for me - clothes that I had never worn.
She must not have been pleased that even though she had tried so hard, I had only decided to dress differently when it was coming from someone besides her. But it wasn't like that. This was less about clothes than it was about insight.
Not knowing how to fully explain my reason for sticking on the blouse, I decided to go for a simple, no-questions-asked answer. "I just..thought that it was nice."
Daisey's lips curved into a wide grin as she pointed a finger at me. "You're already changing."
I pursed my lips. "I am not changing."
Although, I wanted to. A small part of me did.
From beside me, Buttercup nudged her shoulder into mine. "Hey, this is a good thing," She assured me, sounding more enthusiastic than ever before. "Trying something new is fun. But don't go too far, we wouldn't want to lose the responsible one."
The what?
I watched as Bubbles nodded in agreement with what our sister had said, but unlike her, I did not understand.
Blinking my eyes, I turned to fully face Buttercup. "Excuse me?"
"You're the responsible one out of all three of us," Bubbles answered me instead. She sounded so serious that I was beginning to think that they weren't joking. "you always have been."
Oh, God.
They weren't joking.
"What if.." I paused to lick my dry lips. This conversation was making my head pound and my body feel as though it were on fire. "What if I don't want to be known as the responsible one?"
Buttercup instantly chuckled, doubling over to grab her stomach and catch her breath.
Definitely not the reaction that I was hoping for.
"Good joke, Bloss." Buttercup spoke through her laughter as she placed a hand on my shoulder to steady herself.
I was ready to argue my defense when Mrs Devereaux cleared her throat, gaining the attention of the entire class. For a second there, I had almost forgotten that I was in French. The teacher stepped away from behind her desk, her black heels clicking on the floor. She reached over to pick up a stack of rectangular cards that were sitting beside her name plaque.
"Alright," Mrs Devereaux began, her voice so high and deafening it resembled nails scratching on a chalk board. "I have something different for you all to try today. I've made up a batch of flashcards with words written on them in French," She held up one of the small cards for all of us to see. "I'm going to put you all into pairs and give each pair a set of flashcards. One will hold up the card, the other will say the written word aloud in English, and then you will switch."
It seemed easy enough.
I was fluent in French, so I knew that this task would be simple for me to go through with. Buttercup, however, tensed up immediately beside me. I wondered if now she might think twice about sleeping during class when she should be learning how to do these things, but then again, that seemed very unlikely.
Mrs Devereaux continued. "Does anyone have any questions?"
From the corner of my eye, I saw a hand shoot up almost instantly and I turned to see who it was.
Of course.
"Not you, Butch Jojo." Mrs Devereaux said sharply, irritation clear in her voice. She clearly wasn't a big fan of him.
Butch narrowed his eyes at the teacher and I stifled a smile.
I leaned back in my chair and sighed in content. I had a feeling that this was going to be a fun class. Calling out words from cue-cards seemed a lot more interesting than copying some notes down from our textbooks. I wasn't pleased with the lesson planning in this school. It was all writing, no creative work that actually involved using your brain.
Beside me, I could feel Buttercup's anxiety from a mile off. I always thought that Buttercup had hated school for the plain fact that to others, it could be considering boring and time-consuming, which she did agree upon, but I was starting to think that she disliked classes because she never understood.
She was a smart person, she just wasn't very bright.
"This is going to be easy." I whispered to Buttercup casually, hoping that some conversation would ease her mind.
It didn't seem to be working.
She sulked deeper into her plastic chair. "Yeah, for you," She mumbled. The way that she said it made me believe that I should have been offended, but I knew that she didn't mean it in a harsh way. "I know how to say one thing in French and I highly doubt that 'Hello' is going to be on one of the cards."
I shot her a comforting smile. "Well maybe you will learn something."
Buttercup rolled her eyes. "Oh, kill me now."
Holding back a laugh at her comment, I turned my attention back towards the front of the classroom, just in time to see Mrs Devereaux walking towards the front row of seats with the stacks of cards in her hands.
"I will be pairing you all up at random, and then you will join your partner and begin," She explained to us in that loud voice of hers. "The answers to the words are at the back of the cards. You will all keep a record how many words your partner answers correctly."
She sauntered to the first classmate and handed her a medium amount of rectangular cards before handing out partners. I just wished that my partner was one of the more educated students of the class, so that I wouldn't have to wait for them to get the answers right for minutes.
Another part of me wished that I would be paired with Buttercup so that I could help her out and calm her unease.
I figured that the pairing might take a minute or two, so I took the opportunity to have a quick conversation with Buttercup that I had been thinking about for most of the morning.
"Hey," I tapped her shoulder and she turned to glance at me. "I was thinking that we should talk to Bubbles tonight."
Buttercup raised an eyebrow at me. "I thought you said that we should leave her to get used to this in her own way?"
Taking a quick glance at the back of Bubbles' head - only just remembering that she was sitting directly in front of us - I made sure to keep my voice as low as humanly possible. "I have a feeling that she is hiding something from us."
She gasped in mock sarcasm, placing her hands on her cheeks. "You mean, our sweet, honest sister is keeping a secret? What ever shall we do?"
Resisting an eye roll at her antics, I sighed deeply. "I'm being serious."
"You were right before," Buttercup waved a dismissive hand. "she's just nervous about this new enviroment thing. She's not hiding anything."
Where was this insight when we had been discussing Bubbles' strange behaviour yesterday?
My eyes grew serious. "I just think that-"
Unfortunately, I was cut off from Mrs Devereaux's loud cough. Buttercup and I looked to the front to see the red-haired teacher staring at us, her extended hand holding a batch of cue-cards. I watched as she cut her gaze towards Buttercup and passed her the cards.
"Buttercup Utonium, you're with Mr Royale."
Well, that was disappointing.
So much for working with Buttercup.
I felt myself sigh in relief thought. At least I knew that she wouldn't be stuck with a stranger. She was already anxious about having to take part in a task that she knew she couldn't do, but if she had to experience that with a stranger, that would just be over-kill. Plus, Chase was smart, but he was the complete opposite of serious, I knew that they would end up just cracking jokes and talking about their shared adoration of scary films.
As Buttercup stood up and made her way towards Chase, Mrs Devereux turned to me and I couldn't help but feel curious to find out who I was going to be paired with.
Mrs Devereaux smiled politely at me, and the smile didn't quite match her personality. "Blossom Utonium, your partner is Mr Jojo."
I blinked instantly.
After delivering a pinch to my arm to check that I was awake, and this wasn't some sort of putrid dream, I gawked at Mrs Devereaux.
"Which one?"
Please be Butch. Please be Butch. Please be Butch.
"Brick, the one with the red hair." Mrs Devereaux answered, tearing me out of my hopeful trance.
As my gaze cut towards Brick, who was sitting stiffly with pursed lips, obviously having heard the conversation, I swallowed, hoping to rid the dryness in my mouth.
I hadn't spoken one word to Brick since I had basically told him that I believe him, but I didn't trust myself to allow it.
Awkward.
Mrs Devereaux handed me the cue-cards in her hand before turning on her heels and walking off to pair up the people at the table on the right to mine. I took a calming breath, just praying that I could make it through the rest of the class without getting into an argument with Brick. I was never an argumentative type of person, but Brick was. He was either not going to talk to me, or he was going to fight with me.
I took my place in the empty seat beside Brick and I scooted the chair backwards so that I was facing him. He turned to look at me and from the moment that our gaze met, I forgot how to breathe. I hated how pretty his eyes were. They were so piercing and genuine and..honest.
So pretty.
His eyes flickered from mine and down towards my shoes, before glancing back to my eyes once again. I swear that my face flushed. He had barely token a look at me in three days - since we last spoke - and now it was as if he was soaking me up, taking me in.
"Nice shirt." He said and I blinked.
Really?
Nice shirt?
..Really?
I stared back at him, looking absolutely flabbergasted. "A compliment? We don't speak for days and your first words are 'Nice shirt'?"
Brick raised an eyebrow at me. "I wasn't aware that you were upset by the fact that I had been ignoring you."
"I wasn't." I replied a little too quickly. His eyebrow remained up and I felt my face flush again. "I just..didn't expect you to talk to me at all."
Nice save, moron.
"We kind of have to talk." Brick told me slowly, shooting me a look suggesting that I was stupid. I didn't blame him. I was acting stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"Not really." I shot back rudely.
Brick's pretty red eyes narrowed. "Fine. We won't talk then."
I narrowed mine right back. "Fine."
Turning away from his judgemental face, I focused all of my attention on dividing up the cue-cards into roughly half. I could feel a suffocating sensation in my stomach, like a boiling anger and rage. I knew that we would get into an argument some way or another. Brick was just as stubborn as I was, if not more.
Once I had divided the cards, I turned back to face Brick and held my hand out for him to take his half. He took them instantly, and I couldn't ignore the way that his eye twitched when our fingers brushed. I thought that Butch was the 'twitchy' one. I guess I was wrong. I also couldn't ignore the tingle on my skin when his hand touched mine. I wanted to ignore it though. I wasn't supposed to feel any sense of excitement towards him.
I decided that Brick would go first - mainly because he didn't seem to be preparing to show me any cue-cards - and so I took a look at the first card. In big, black writing was the word, "Lumière." If Brick didn't get it, I would be really disappointed. It was seriously easy, to me, anyway.
Showing the card to Brick, I waited for a beat that never came.
"Light." He answered quickly, mere seconds after the word had been revealed to him.
Brick picked up the first card on his stack and held it up for me to read. It was another easy one. I hoped that they would get harder as they went on, otherwise the entire excercise would have been just utterly pointless.
"Water."
"Entertainment."
"Forgiveness." I pursed my lips as Brick's eye twitched again.
Bad, bad word.
"Intriguing."
"Small."
"Hollow."
I let out a long, strained sigh. I had been right. This was utterly and entirely pointless. Brick was just as fluent in French as myself. We were both wasting our time even bothering to take part. I didn't know why I was so surprised that Brick was good at speaking French. He was smart. Just as smart as me. And he even sounded quite interesting when he spoke French. It was like music. Beautiful, pretty music.
No.
Those were bad thoughts.
When I didn't immediately answer the next card, Brick stared at me quizzically.
I licked at my dry lips. "This is futile, Brick. We're both fluent in French."
"You're right," He slowly nodded in agreement, and his lips pursed tight. "..So, how do suggest we spend this lesson then? If we won't be doing this?"
"We could..talk." I suggested hesitantly.
Brick crossed his arms over his hard chest. "About what? About how you believe me, yet you ignore me like I have the plague?"
I frowned at him.
His voice held such amusement, yet so much resentment towards me. I hated feeling resented.
Raising my shoulders in exasperation, I stared deeply at him. "Why are you so bothered by the fact that I ignore you?"
Brick looked down, taking a sudden interest in his shoes. "I'm not bothered."
"You seem bothered." I observed in a quiet voice.
"I just don't get you," Brick looked up at me and shook his head slowly, as if he was trying to figure me out. "You said that you believe that I've changed, and I understand why you still don't want anything to do with me, but why do you pretend like nothing is different?"
I blinked at him. "So..you're basically saying that you want me to tell my sisters that I believe you, so that things will be different for you?"
"Yes." He replied bluntly.
"That isn't going to help anything."
"Maybe not," Brick shrugged his shoulders. His gaze cut deep into my eyes and I felt my stomach ache. He was pushing me back into a corner, and he knew it. "but," He continued. "you should still tell them."
A soft, unnoticeable sigh escaped from my lips. "Telling them would cause a rift between all of us."
Brick instantly leaned forward, so close that I could smell his aftershave. I almost leaned back, just to avoid the heavenly scent and the sheer closeness, but I remained still.
"You think that you and your sisters spying on my brothers and I, making us out to criminals, doesn't cause a rift for us?" His face scrunched in mild frustration and what looked like desperation. I wanted to cry. Brick had definitely pushed me into a corner now. "This is supposed to be our fresh start too, you know?"
My stomach filled with guilt and it was so suffocating that I could barely breathe. In all my life, I had never felt as selfish as how Brick made me feel. His words cut through me like ice, reminding me of how self-concerned I was being.
I swallowed loudly. "I'm..sorry."
Sorry wasn't good enough.
I wasn't being honest.
Brick shook his head. "I don't believe your apology. If you felt any source of pity for us, you would stop hiding behind your belief and tell them that you know I have changed."
"I have to proof of that." I muttered.
It was such a small excuse, and Brick clearly wasn't buying it.
"Your word is proof enough." His voice was thick and determined.
Letting out a breath, I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair and turned to look at the front of the classroom, desperate to see anything but his unselfish eyes. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face, waiting for me to say something, anything.
I licked the dryness from my lips, and in a small voice, I whispered, "I wish that I could help you, but I can't let my belief ruin my relationship with my sisters."
A beat passed with no one speaking, and I wondered if he had gone back to ignoring me and avoiding my presence, but then I heard him speak again, and his voice sounded so hurt that I wanted to scream at myself.
"Then you really aren't the person that I thought you were." He said to me.
I couldn't stop myself from turning back to glare at him. My heart kicked at his words and my defensive side came crawling out. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Brick tilted his head to the side, disappointment on his face. "I have morals. So being your counterpart, I assumed that you did as well," His jaw locked before he spoke again. "I guess you don't."
He turned himself back around to face the front of the classroom and this time, it was I who was burning holes into the side of his face. I wanted to scream again. It took everything in me not to.
Brick was right.
I had no morals.
Not anymore.
12:46 p.m.
Regular POV
Almost two hours after her last class of the day had finished, Blossom found herself enduring the task of throwing out her clothing along with her sister's roommate. Blossom knew that she would have to sort out her array of clothes eventually - especially since Daisey, the self-proclaimed fashion-police, was now in her life - although as she began to sort her items of clothing into piles, she found herself overwhelmed with a sense of nostalgia. All of her clothes had been bought in Townsville, apart from the items she had picked up at Riot two days earlier, and she felt that throwing them out was as though she was throwing out her memories of her home - well, her true home.
She felt silly for thinking so deeply of the situation, but that just who Blossom was. She over-thought things. But she pushed through the nostalgia, because while that was the type of person that Blossom was, she didn't want to be that person for much longer. She wanted to experiment, she wanted to find herself, and she couldn't do that if she held on to the past. So, whether she liked it or not, Blossom began to decide what to throw out, and what to keep.
"What is this?" Daisey's loud accent tore Blossom away from her thoughts.
Turning herself around, Blossom faced the wardrobe to answer her friend's question. She laid her gaze onto the item of question hanging from Daisey's hands, and spotted the coat that she had bought when she was thirteen years old from The Tallen - a clothing store placed beside the Townsville National Bank.
The jacket wasn't like anything you would see a sixteen year old wearing, not in modern days, anyway. It was long in length, very long. Whenever Blossom wore it, the coat was dangerously close to reaching her knees. God only knows what Bubbles would look like if she wore it, considering her tiny height - although, that was never an issue, Bubbles always had hated that coat, there was no way that she would ever wear it. The colour was once an ink black, although as the years grew on, the colour appeared to fade into a bland, tattered dark grey, only making the tweed fabric appear more distasteful. If the quality and colour was not bad enough, then the ginormous white buttons places at every available corner and opening did the trick.
Blossom looked back up to meet the brunette's eyes. "That's a jacket, Daisey."
"Nope," Daisey spoke as she glared at the tweed mess in her hands. She scrunched her nose as she held the coat out. "This is definitely going into the 'throw out' pile."
In an instant, Blossom had walked towards the Australian and snatched up her beloved, albeit hideous coat. She hugged the fabric tightly into her chest, as if unwilling to say goodbye to what was once a great jacket, back in its prime. That hadn't been the first time that Blossom had clutched her clothes in an attempt to keep them. Her OCD like nature wasn't allowing her to give anything up without a fight.
Playing a pout on her pried lips, Blossom looked at Daisey with almost pleading eyes. "But I love this jacket."
Daisey, seeming unaffected by Blossom's big eyes and batting lashes, placed a friendly hand onto her shoulder and frowned sympathetically. "Beauty is pain, my friend."
Blossom let out a soft sigh. "We said that we would only throw out clothes that I agree upon."
"Keep the jacket if you want," Daisey waved a hand. "but I think that it would be a huge mistake."
Looking down at her jacket, Blossom raised an eyebrow. "It's not that bad, is it?"
"It's not as bad as the shirt with the 3D flower sticking out of it," Daisey smiled crookedly at the memory. One little pink shirt with a sunflower popping out had been the cause of a twenty-minute discussion - or in other words, argument - until eventually Blossom conceded and let go of the shirt. "But yes," Daisey continued. "It's bad."
Blossom rolled her eyes. "That was a lovely shirt."
"Yes, and I'm sure that the garbage will love it just as dearly as you did."
"I still don't understand what throwing all of my clothes out will achieve."
"First, we're not throwing them all out," Daisey pointed out. "And second, you told me that wanted to break out of your level-headed personality, and that's what we're doing. Buttercup can teach you how to act the part, but only I can teach you how to dress the part."
"What about Bubbles? I thought you said that she wasn't.." Blossom paused for a short moment. "What was the phrase that you used?"
"Fashion impaired," Daisey chuckled. Although being called it by Daisey five times, Blossom didn't feel at all insulted by the comment, after all, Daisey called everyone fashion impaired - apart from herself and Bubbles, of course. "And while Bubbles dresses like a gorgeous Greek Goddess, she isn't here, and I am," Daisey rubbed her palms together in exhilaration. "So. Let's move on to the trousers, shall we?"
Blossom smiled and offered a nod. "Alright then."
The auburn-haired girl turned back around and began walking towards her bed on the left side of the room. She slowly placed her tweed jacket into the right pile - Aka: The throw out pile, which also happened to be the larger pile of the two. She didn't want to let go of her coat, and even as she put it on the top of the throw out pile, she wished that she could take the action back.
She took a deep, calming breath and tried to remember why she was doing this. Blossom wanted a fresh start, a chance to find out who she really was, and she had to try stepping outside of her comfort zone to truly find that out. It amused her, really, how one little promise to Buttercup had made her see just how much that she wanted to live without limitations and restrictions. And even if it was difficult, she had to try.
The muteness was beginning to take its toll when Daisey let out a hysteric, melodramatic cough.
Blossom quickly spun around to see what had caused the sudden coughing. However, it was not as she had expected, as she caught sight of Daisey staring down at a pair of pants with absolute horror in her eyes.
"Is this.." Daisey breathed out her words in panic as she glared at the pants, held out in front of her by one shaking hand. "Is this corduroy?"
Not understanding the danger of the fabric, Blossom blinked in confusion.
"Yes?"
Daisey's hand shot up to shield her dark blue eyes and she threw the pants towards Blossom, whom managed to catch them before they hit the ground. With her eyes still covered, Daisey began to point a finger at Blossom dramatically.
"Corduroy is the fashion devil." The brunette said in a completely serious tone.
Licking her lips, Blossom breathed out a soft laugh.
She had learned two important things about Daisey today. First, she was the most melodramatic person in all of Ashville. And second, she was terrified of corduroy.
Fantastic.
"You're over-exaggerating." Blossom insisted, holding back another giggle at the Australian's expense.
"No," Daisey pointed her finger once more, still unable to see past her palm. "I never over-exaggerate, Blossy. Corduroy is the worst thing to happen to fashion since the birth of the leg warmer. Get it in the pile!"
"Okay, okay," Blossom tossed the evil pants into the larger pile on her bed. She turned back to face her friend and smiled. "You can un-cover your eyes now."
Daisey moved her hand from her line of sight and blinked her expressive eyes in adjustment to the light.
"Alright," She took a calming breath and held her hands out in relief. "Now, you dig out everything from jeans to slacks and I'll go wash the corduroy poison off of my hands."
Blossom chuckled deeply. "Okay, I will do."
As Daisey neared the bedroom door, she paused and took a glance at Blossom from across her shoulder, encased in a deep violet dress strap. "Oh, and don't worry about your lack of clothing choices after we take the throw out pile to the bin. We can go shopping again on Friday."
Nodding, Blossom smiled in appreciation. "That would be great."
With that said, the brunette rushed out of the room to wash her hands, and Blossom made a move for her closet to begin sorting out the jeans from the skirts. As her eyes laid upon the items of clothing that she would soon judge, she wondered if any of this would truly help her break out of her role as 'the responsible one'. She hoped that it would.
She was sick of being who everyone expected her to be.
She wanted to be wild for a change.
14:37 p.m.
There was a soft breeze in the air as Bubbles walked out of the second building. She pulled her cropped jacket tighter around her small form. The sky was filled with dark clouds, as it usually was. Bubbles was beginning to miss the good weather of Townsville. She could only take so much rain at a time. Her moves were slow as she made her way towards the third building to find her friend.
Now was as good a time as any to see Boomer. She had checked on her sister's whereabouts before heading towards the Utopia. Blossom was busy in the library with a book that she had just started reading a couple of days prior, and Buttercup was with Daisey in their room, doing God knows what - probably planning another hilarious prank involving water soakers.
When she passed the threshold of the Utopia, Bubbles took notice of Boomer sitting beside the water-fountain. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't drawing. Instead, he was writing. In his hands was a textbook and he appeared to be doing school work. His eyes were filled with deep concentration, and Bubbles almost didn't want to bother him.
But even as she took a step back to turn and leave him be, she heard his voice stop her in her tracks.
"Bubbles?" He called out and she felt her skin tingle.
She loved the way that he spoke her name.
Looking straight ahead at him, Bubbles offered a friendly smile. She wasn't even sure why she had wanted to see him so badly. She just knew that she felt comfortable with him. Over the course of their brief friendship, they had talked so passionately and easily about their lives with one another. They never realised how possible it was, for two individuals who prefered to be alone, to be so free in each other's company.
"Hi," She replied casually. Her eyes fell onto the large, white textbook in his hands. "You're doing homework?"
Homework.
Bubbles found that hilarious.
Considering their 'home' was Ashville Academy, it seemed a little absurd that they still had to do homework. The classes themselves were cut down to three instead of six, like public schools, and yet they couldn't just cut the homework while they were at it. Bubbles hated homework, even more so now that it was consuming Boomer's afternoon.
She had wanted to do that.
"Pretty much," Boomer flashed her a smile and her heart stopped. She had to stop thinking about his attractiveness. It wasn't doing her any good. "Mr Lomax told me that my latest English paper wasn't as good as it could have been, so now I'm re-doing it."
Ignoring her thoughts telling her to leave him to do his work, Bubbles walked deeper into the Utopia and took a seat in front of him. His gaze held stress and annoyance at the fact that he had been forced to do his work all over again, and Bubbles wanted to rid that look from his eyes, to replace it with something nice.
"I could help you, if you want." She offered selflessly.
Boomer shook his head but kept his smile firmly intact. "I work faster on my own."
She pouted her lips in thought. "What a coincidence. So do I."
It was completely not a coincidence.
It had counterpart bond written all over it.
Closing his book, Boomer raised a confused eyebrow at Bubbles. "I didn't know that we had a meet up scheduled for today."
"We didn't."
"But you're here anyway."
Bubbles shrugged her shoulders. "I just wanted to get away for a bit. I figured that you would be with your brothers."
"I'm avoiding them," Boomer replied in a small voice. "For some reason, Brick has been acting broodier than usual lately, and Butch has been spending all of his time with Chase."
"Why do you hate Chase so badly? I've always wondered."
"It doesn't matter." Boomer's lips pursed.
"I guess not," Bubbles smiled widely. "Well, your brother might have a friend that he spends most of his time with, but so do you."
Boomer chuckled softly. "I must sound like an absolute hypocrite."
"I don't think that you're a hypocrite," Bubbles paused as she noticed Boomer raise a non-convinced eyebrow. "..Well, maybe a little."
Breathing out another laugh, Boomer's eyes lit up. "Oh, what would I do without you?"
Bubbles grinned back at him. "You'll never have to find out."
"Hmm," He watched her in curiosity. "Even when we turn eighteen and leave this place?"
Tilting her head to the side, Bubbles raised her shoulders. "I don't think about the future. It distracts me from the present."
"Very insightful."
She smiled brightly. "I'm a very insightful person."
"When are you going to tell someone?" Boomer asked suddenly, causing Bubbles' entire body to stiffen uncontrollably.
He always asked the worst questions.
Bubbles looked down to the grass beneath them. "Boomer, I told you that I didn't want to make any decisions yet."
"I know that you did," Boomer said in a soft tone. He reached out to touch her hand, causing her to glance back up and into his dark eyes. "I just think that we've kept this secret for longer than we should have. If you keep telling your sisters that you're sick, they're going to think that you have the plague or something."
Her lips twitched into a small smile. "You realise that everything is going to change when I tell them, right?"
Boomer nodded. "I usually don't like change, but if it means that we can stop hiding, I'm all for change."
"I will tell them," She assured him. Her body stiffed, very aware that his hand was still on hers. So much for no more hand-touching. "..eventually."
"Why eventually?"
Bubbles reached up to brush a couple of strands of curled blonde hair behind her ear, hoping that her mind could come up with words to make him understand. "I just..I need them to get used to the idea of you being back into our lives. Maybe they will both start to lay off and then I can tell them and it will just be..easier."
Taking a short breath, Boomer nodded his head. "I guess that makes sense."
Slowly slipped her hand away from his, Bubbles offered him another smile. "I'll tell them next week, okay?"
"Alright," Boomer agreed. "Next week." He repeated.
17:19 p.m.
Blossom Utonium's POV
As I made my way towards the third building, I tugged at the collar of my blouse. It was so suffocating and far too tight. I believe that Daisey purposely chose a size smaller than necessary after I went back into the changing room to try on a pair of jeans. The tightness luckily didn't show on the outside, but I could definitely feel it. It was like wearing a damned dog collar around my neck.
It had been a long day for me, and my mind had not stopped speaking for even a minute. I had not been able to get Brick's words out of my head. He made me feel selfish, which I deserved. He had every right to argue with me. That was the hard part, knowing that he was right and I was wrong, that I had zero morals. I wanted to tell my sisters that I believed him, so that I could help them believe too, but they would be so angry at first before it got better. And even though it would in fact get better, I didn't want to handle the anger first.
All day and all afternoon I had been unable to think about anything besides my guilt and my fear. I continued to ask myself what the best option for other people would be. And then I realised that I had been trying to think for myself. I had been trying to stop pleasing everyone else. That was how I found myself storming to the common room in search for Brick, to indulge in the answers that I had been craving, without thinking about the consequences of my actions.
It was only for tonight.
I would do something for myself, and everyone else be damned.
With quick steps, I strolled into the common room and took a glance around. I couldn't spot anyone that I knew, Brick included. Suppressing a frustrated sigh, I headed for the library in the back room. If he wasn't in his room, or the football field, or the common room, then he had to be in the library.
When I got inside, the room was deadly silent. I poked my head around and my eyes landed on the smallest table in the room - the table that only held one chair - and Brick was sat there, reading a black, thick-rimmed book. The novel must have been very interesting, judging by the way that his piercing red eyes were lit up like the fourth of July.
I took a deep, reassuring breath before closing the door and walking inside. As the noise of the door shutting vibrated throughout the small room, Brick's head instantly shot up, like a prey alert of a predator. His jaw locked at the sight of me, but damn if I didn't miss the way that his lips twitched into a smallest hint of a smile.
"We need to talk." I spoke loudly and straightened my back, holding my chin up high, praying that my voice sounded confident.
"What are you doing here, Blossom?" He asked me, bluntly disregarding what I had said.
In a moment of weakness, my eyes fell from his and landed on his shirt. He was wearing my favourite shirt of his. Not that I kept track of what he wore, of course, that would just be insane, but I had seen him wear the particular shirt more than once and it made him look..compelling.
It was a dark, deep crimson polo shirt. Designer, too. A make by Philipp Plein. I didn't really follow designer clothing. I only knew the make of his shirt thanks to Bubbles. She made a comment about how she had never expected to see Brick Jojo wearing something with unbelievable taste.
His hair was slightly dishevelled, spikes of dark auburn hair combed forward, covering his ears, the swept side fringe almost shielding one of his red eyes from view. It was the first time that I had ever seen him without his merlot coloured snap-back hat on his head. While the hat did suit him perfectly, he looked so handsome without it on.
Wait, not handsome.
I take that back.
As the silence dragged on, I moved forward and began walking towards the table where he was sat. As I approached, Brick closed down his book and placed it onto the table, his eyes never leaving me, watching me in what I could only assume was amusement.
"I want to know everything." I told him while crossing my arms.
Brick raised one of his thin eyebrows. "Everything?"
Nodding, I took a step closer to him. "About your life after Townsville. You wanted me to let you in, well here is your chance."
He seemed surprised to hear the words, which I didn't blame him for. Even I was shocked that I was actually going through with his. Brick straightened up in his seat, placing his arms onto the table and resting them there in a crossed position.
His head cocked to the side, I watched as his eyes lit with what appeared to be relief. "I thought you said that you couldn't act on your belief?"
Brick's voice held that harsh resentment to it again and my stomach sank.
I swallowed my culpability and willed myself to continue. "Daisey told me not to think about consequences."
"Why on earth are you doing what Daisey McCoy asks?"
"Because I'm sick of being 'the responsible one', okay?" My voice raised, which I assumed was against the rules of the library, but I honestly didn't care. I wanted to yell. "I'm tired of pushing aside what I want because it's wrong for everyone else. I want to know where you went after you disappeared," I took a breath, hoping to calm myself down. "..and I'm not thinking about the consequences of asking anymore."
He stared at me for a long moment, his gaze holding unsurity and hesitation. I stared right back and hoped that he would just take me seriously. I probably looked a little insane in my rambling, but as I came to realise, Brick didn't care.
He nodded his head towards the stray seat at the next table, suggesting for me to take it.
"Sit down," His voice was softer and friendlier than before. I almost sighed in content. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know."
I took a firm hold of the chair he had indicated towards and placed it in front of Brick's table, lined directly with him, so that I would be sat opposite him. Taking a seat, I looked at him and waited for him to speak, but it appeared as if he were doing the same thing.
Why did he have to be so awkward?
"Well.." I started slowly, deciding to take the lead in the conversation. "I guess that the first thing I wanted to know was.." I stared him right in the eye, seriousness clouding my expression. "what made you decide to reform yourself?"
Brick raised his eyebrow again.
"Isn't it obvious?" I pursed my lips at him. Obviously it was not obvious if I had to ask. He rolled his eyes and continued. "I didn't want to live my life as a criminal. That life was completely forced upon me." He waved his hands for effect.
I leaned forward, curious to divulge deeper into his life. "But you were born to be..evil, didn't that kind of stick with you?"
He shook his head. "Not at all. Look, I may have been born for that reason, but from the second that I was born, I was still a person, my own person. As I grew older I realised that I wanted freedom more than I wanted to commit crimes."
"Alright," I swallowed the dryness in my throat. "Then I suppose my next question is to ask where you and your brothers moved to after you left."
"Well, Butch wanted to go to Hawaii," He spoke in a light, nostalgic tone. I raised my eyebrow at him and he shook his head in response. "Don't ask. Anyway, he wanted to go somewhere with sun, and I wanted to go somewhere close by, and Boomer..well, he didn't really have an opinion. After much deliberation, we made a compromise. We went somewhere with sun that was also close to Townsville. We went to Willow Cress."
Wait, what?
I blinked at him in surprise. That town was so close to Townsville. It was Robin's childhood home and neighbourhood. Willow Cress had to be the last place that I would ever expect the Jojo brothers to reside in. The entire town was built on a foundation of cheeriness and respect and care. The residents of the town where like some big, dysfunctional family.
Suppressing a second blink, I breathed out a tiny, humorless laugh. "Willow Cress? I drove past that town with my family countless times, and you had been living there the entire time?"
Brick nodded. "It was a good place to start over in," He visibly tensed. "..but as you know, complications arised and we found ourselves being shipped off to Kansas five years later."
I furrowed my brows in confusion. "How did you survive without any form of parents for five whole years?"
He tensed even further at my question. "Well, I won't lie to you, it was tough times for a while. We had money, of course, from Mojo and from our crime days, but that only lasted so long. We spent our first couple of months in the cheapest hotel in Willow Cress and then we ran out of money completely," He closed his eyes, as if trying to shield me from his emotion. "We couldn't afford a real, permanent home."
A thick, suffocating silence followed his words. I stared at him without saying a word for at least ten seconds, knowing exactly what he was implying but too afraid to say it. I could feel my eyes softening as his slid open and allowed me no emotion whatsoever.
"Brick.." I whispered carefully. "Did you..did you live on the streets?"
I watched as Brick's adams apple rose and fell as he swallowed. He turned his head to the side, and I wished that he hadn't. He looked so vulnerable and..and human.
"We did, for a while."
A frown took over my lips. "That's so..horrible."
There were no words.
Horrible was apparently the only word left in my vocabulary.
"It wasn't forever," He assured, turning back to look at me. "Fortunately, luck was on our side. A woman named Casey came over to us one day and told us that she was apart of the local housing association board. She got us a spare room in a hostel close to Willow High - where she insisted that we join. We started a life there, and only Casey knew of our past. Everything was going great until Butch started a fight with Nathan Collins and got us thrown out of the school."
Pushing aside my need to ask about his personal life, I decided upon asking something that wasn't too out-of-order. "Why didn't you just remain in the hostel under Casey's care and apply to another school?"
Brick's strong jaw set and I found myself staring. "You don't think we tried that? We couldn't. We weren't allowed. While Casey did give us a home and an income, she wasn't our parent, there was no legal documents."
I wanted to cry for him.
It seemed like he had this perfect secondary life, this amazing second chance, and it had just been torn away and shred. It just wasn't..fair.
He continued, "Once you've been assigned to this school, there's no getting out of it."
Tilting my head to the side, my eyes filled with sorrow. "You make this school sound like some sort of prison."
"I don't see this school as a prison," He licked at his dry lips and I found myself staring again. Bad, bad, bad. I had to stop doing that. "It just feels like one." He finished.
I leaned forward on my elbows. "Can I ask you one last question?"
Brick shrugged casually, although I could tell that our talk had gotten to him. There was so much nostalgia and loss in his eyes. "You may as well."
"Why did you tell me all of this?" I asked softly, curiously.
"You asked for answers," He replied simply. "I provided them."
"But why? My questions were seriously personal. You didn't have to tell me about you living on the streets or moving into a hostel," I took a short breath. "I mean, I already told you that I believe you are good, so why did you feel the need to divulge so much information?"
He pursed his lips and slightly shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see why I should keep anything from you. And honestly, it felt nice to tell someone."
I nodded shortly. "Thank you for telling me."
"What now?" He asked suddenly.
Blinking, I furrowed my brows. "Huh?"
Brick's eyes softened, his dark red orbs holding curiosity. "Well, I told you about my past. You believe that my brothers and I really are reformed. You've stopped spying on me. What happens now? Do we just live out the next two years by ignoring each other?"
My entire body stiffened. "I..I have no idea what we do now."
"What do you want to happen?"
For a moment, I pondered his question. I had never really thought about where I wanted things to go from here. I knew that I would tell my sisters of my belief one day, but I had not thought any further ahead than that.
There were so many reasons that Brick and I would have a great, lasting friendship. We had so much in common and there was a lot of chemistry, and I knew that a part of me did want to explore being in his life. Curiosity had gotten the better of me since my first day in Ashville Academy, and now I had all the answers that I needed. But I didn't want to never speak with him again.
Wow.
I actually wanted to be Brick's friend.
Offering an awkward smile, I took a calming breath. "I don't know. Maybe we could..you know, start of slowly. I mean, you trusted me enough to let me in, and that means something to me. But I don't see the point in starting a friendship with you if my sisters will be against it," I watched the pretty lit fade from his eyes and my stomach turned. "I think that we should just give this a little more time."
Brick seemed surprised, and just like that, the light was back. "Are you saying that you want to be my friend?"
He looked so happy and relieved.
It made my heart warm.
My smile widened comfortably. "I see no reason why not. Behind our past and the way that I used to perceive you, you're a nice person and I strangely enjoy talking to you."
Only after I had finished talking had I realised how openly and honestly I was speaking. It was as though I had been injected with some sort of truth serum or something along those lines.
Brick's lips twitched into a smile. "Wow."
I tilted my head slightly, my own smile still intact. "What?"
"Nothing," Brick breathed out an amused laugh. "It's just..I never thought in a million years that Blossom Utonium would refer to me as a 'nice person',"
"You can be, at times." I breathed out a laugh. "I guess I just see you in a completely different light now."
He nodded. "Good. The spying was really getting on my nerves."
I laughed at my own expense. "Was the spying really that obvious?"
Brick ran a hand over his face and laughed back. "Let's just say that you lost your slyness along with your superpowers."
Rolling my eyes, I grinned at Brick. "I'm very sly."
"Mhm," Brick nodded and pouted his lips playfully. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
I crossed my arms in mock anger. "If we are to one day be friends, then you can't insult my deceitful skills."
He chuckled beautifully and grinned at me in the cheekiest way imaginable. For some reason I just loved his grin. He looked so happy and free and human.
"Alright, then," He drawled. "I'll never speak of your terrible spying skills ever again."
"Stop it!" I raised my voice at him, which only caused him to burst into a fit of chuckles.
Remaining silent, I watched Brick laugh while shaking my head in irritation. He had such a sweet laugh. It was like this mix between his old evil-esque laugh, and some childhood innocence that I had never heard from him before. His smile was so crooked, and his dimples curved upwards when he chuckled, stealing the attention away from his perfect, white teeth.
For a moment I just looked at him, and even as the fact crossed my mind that my sisters would not be pleased to hear that I was so close to becoming friends with Brick Jojo, I realised that for the first time in my life, I didn't care.
I didn't care that it was dangerous. I didn't care that it was risky. I didn't care that it was wrong. If anything, that just made the thrill even more vibrant - and I had never been able to enjoy thrills what with me being the 'responsible' one. Deep down, I had always been one to know exactly what I wanted, and I so desperately wanted to feel thrilled. It was all that I had ever wished for myself.
What was the point of life if I didn't give in to the euphoria? For years I had been alive. But I had never lived.
I wanted to feel alive.
It did dawn on me that both of my sisters would be devastated, maybe even betrayed, by the fact that I let myself fall for the allure of danger in the form of Brick Jojo, but why should I let their feelings of betrayal take control of my actions?
I was going to give in to the thrill.
And I wasn't thinking about the consequences anymore.
~ Don't you just love Blossom? Well, I do. We're seeing some character building for her in this chapter, which will only progress the more we get into the story. Blossom's need to break out of her reputation will only grow stronger, after all, and who else to help her be a little risky but Brick? ~
Next Chapter - (Boomer's Chapter) As they spend more and more time together, Boomer and Bubbles grow dangerously close. Brick and Butch's suspicions grow, causing Butch to come to a rash decision in order to find out what Boomer is hiding. Meanwhile, Boomer's secretive trips to Townsville years before is explained in a series of flashbacks, and as Boomer begins to tell Bubbles what happened during his last day in Townsville, she isn't prepared for what she is about to hear.
I'd love for you to review, thank you for reading! ^^
Allison Peirce