A/N

*Peeks out from behind rather intimidating body guard*

Hi… I've been gone for quite some time, haven't I? PLEASE DON'T HURT ME! I will try to post a new chapter at least once every week, but no promises. My Algebra-II class is picking up a lot in the "obnoxiously large load of homework" area. Just be patient with me…

On a lighter note, I'd like to say that I have chosen the contest winner and the name of that person will be announced sometime in this chapter. I'm going to make YOU guys figure out where, though. (I'm trying to be creatively annoying :D)

Alright, so no review-replies in this chapter, I'm sorry! I'd just kind of like to go on with it and get this up as soon as possible. I'll reply to reviews in the next chapter.

And also, thanks so much to those of you who have reviewed, favorite-d and followed! It's all of you who keep me going, and make me feel guilty when I abandon this thing for a few weeks…

The song for this chapter is: My Own Worst Enemy

Disclaimer: I don't own the Powerpuff Girls, a toaster oven, (however I do own a TOASTER) the song "My Own Worst Enemy" or the band "Lit."

Have fun reading :)

Chapter 26

(Buttercup's POV)

I left exactly one minute before the bell rang, just to piss of my math teacher.

It worked, too. I didn't need to look at him to see the disgust on his pale and pudgy face. He couldn't stop me. I'd been doing this for the past eight months, and no matter what he tried to do to make me sit back in my chair for the remaining one minute of the period, I would always manage to get away.

It was all right to miss that last minute, I figured. I was passing, but just barely, just to make Blossom irritated.

I smirked to myself at that. She could irk me, but I could irk her even more.

Take that, bitch.

The bell rang just as I got to my locker. I began to put my math book away and got out my science book, even though I had Spanish next period. I did it just to piss off my teacher. It seemed like everything I did was for the sole purpose of making someone angry.

Whatever.

I fixed my smudged eyeliner in the mirror on my locker door, and then I closed it, revealing a person leaning against the wall of lockers right beside me.

"He-ey," She said, and I could tell that she was already a bit tipsy. The smell of cigarette was coming off of her clothes in heavy waves that almost made me gag, although I was used to the scent already.

I pushed away part of my horrible mood and opened my mind up to reach the parts of my mind that made me an ignorant stoner, the type of person that I had become.

"Heya," I said, and smirked over at the person who had joined me. Her name was Stephanie, and I just hung out with her to, once again, piss my family off. She wore see-through white T-shirts with black push-up bras, torn jeans, and had a lot of piercings. Some on her face, some in other places… She also constantly smelled like different types of alcohol and nicotine. I was just using her, because I didn't like her at all. I almost felt bad sometimes.

While I hung with her and our other "friends", I hadn't changed at all. I still wore my skinny jeans and dark clothes, was still piercing-free, and had decided not to smoke. Drinking was another thing, though.

Due to my superhero metabolism, alcohol couldn't stay in my system for more than a few minutes. I mostly just acted drunk and consumed enough to be believable.

So, basically, I was considered a stoner now. Go me.

"The gang and me are gonna skip the rest of the day and go get some drinks," Stephanie drawled, "You in?"

I yawned in a bored-manner. "It's after lunch. I'd expect you to make this offer after first period."

She shrugged. "We were preoccupied. They were having a graffiti party by the dumpster."

"Oh yeah." I remembered now. I'd smartly made up an excuse not to go to that. I would destroy my own body, but not public property.

"So, you in? We're leaving now in Evans' car," She explained, and excitement filled her heavily black-lined gray eyes. Evans' car was nice in her book. A 4-door Ford Pickup Truck. Whoopee.

I glanced around me suddenly, feeling like I was being watched. I spotted the source of such feelings near the teacher's restrooms farther up the hall. Blossom was watching me carefully, her rose-colored eyes locked on mine. I smirked at her and she stiffened as I turned to face Stephanie again.

"Yeah, I'll go," I said, and Stephanie smiled. She grabbed my arm and yanked me forward and into the crowd of students. It was like an ocean. The crowd surged and then receded as people moved. It was "The Way of The Ditch," my stoner friends called it. To get lost in the crowd until you got to the door, and then make a run for it. There were so many kids, it was possible to escape unnoticed.

We did just that, letting the crowd push us toward the doors until we were outside and running toward the student parking lot. I saw our small group huddled next to Evan's dusty white Ford and hurried toward them.

There were three others beside Stephanie and I. There was Evan of course: a blonde kid with so much hair that no one was ever sure of the color of his eyes that wore clothes that were two sizes too big. Next there was Yvette, a slutty Asian with blonde-dyed hair who wore too much blue eye shadow over her brown eyes with clothes too tight for her pudgy little body and had a -2.0 GPA. Last but not least, was one of my childhood friends: Mitch Mitchelson. The guy hadn't changed, except for his height, build, and smell of course. He was roughly six feet tall, and was broad chested now. I won't torture the mind was specifics, so I'll just say that he smelled like bad things. I didn't consider him hot, cute maybe like I always had, but not hot. I pretended to, though. Once again, just to piss some people off.

"Hey guys!" Stephanie crowed, and she rushed into the group to envelope everyone in a huge hug.

After their own personal smells of grossness were combined, they turned to me.

"Well, come on, Buttercup! Don't you want to share the love?" Yvette called, smacking her lips together as she chewed on her gum.

"Nah, I'll pass. I'm savin' all my lovin' for the drink," I said in my fake tipsy-voice. I was getting to be a better actress the more I hung out with these losers.

"That's why we love ya!" Mitch joked, and walked the few steps that I had placed between us to hug me against my will. I pretended to like it, and smiled my best.

He was wearing his "Mitch Rocks" shirt—A tight black T-shirt with white magic marker splattering the words across the front. I hated that shirt.

"Well, what are we waiting for, kids? Let's go!" Evan chortled, and he opened the door and swung himself inside of the cab.

Stephanie and Yvette whooped and followed his lead, Stephanie running around the back to get shotgun and Yvette opening the back door to scoot all the way over to the other window to make room.

Mitch nudged me forward and I climbed up into the cab, shooting a flirtatious glance over my shoulder. When I was with them, I wasn't Buttercup. I was Britney, or something, I decided, the airheaded alcoholic.

As soon as Mitch closed the door we were backing out of the parking lot and heading towards one of our usual bars—the ones that didn't card their customers.

Evan turned up the radio and soon enough everyone but me was singing badly and out-of-tune to some song that I'd never heard before in my life.

Minutes later we pulled into a slightly-busy parking lot with a few little buildings: A salon, a coffee shop, and of course, the bar.

We got out of the car, one by one, and plopped down onto the pavement. As we headed toward the bar, Mitch wrapped his arm around my waist. It was a familiar gesture, he did it all the time, but it didn't feel right. It made me feel dirty.

As soon as we were inside, I made myself tune out my Buttercup-ness again. I was here to get drunk and have a good time, not to drown myself in the past. Not that I had any reason to do that, of course. I didn't care about that guy. Why should I?

It was dark and smelled of cigarettes and alcohol, and it was louder than it should have been for a bar open on a Wednesday at 1:00 PM. We walked over to the bar and each took a seat on the barstools. All except for Mitch of course, who decided stand behind me and wrap his arms around my torso. There was no affection in it, I didn't think. It was all just a show of stoner-dominance.

Everyone ordered his or her different drinks, and asked me what I wanted. I shrugged.

"Just give me whatever Mitch is having, I guess," I muttered, "I just want a good buzz."

The bartender gave me a creepy smile and passed me a bottle of something. It was already opened, and the Buttercup part of me wanted to question this situation, but I pushed those thoughts away.

I examined the label, but couldn't read the name of the beer. It was something foreign. I shrugged again and downed it, wiping my mouth as I slammed the empty bottle down on the counter.

At first, when I had decided to become this new Buttercup, I had been trying to get drunk to drown out the happiness of my sisters, and the past that they wouldn't let me forget. Now I was just doing it to spite them, to worry them.

"Gimme another one," I commanded groggily. The bartender gave me another creepy smile, fixed his cracked glasses, and passed me another drink.

As I downed my fourth beer, I realized that Yvette, who was sitting beside me, was staring at her bottle in confusion.

"What?" I demanded, "Not strong enough for you? Gimme it."

She shook her head and continued to stare at it. "How many calories has this got in it?" She muttered, squinting hard, "Does that say… isieiy-iuikifitiw? Is that the bar code or whatever?"

"…What?" Evan muttered, and from the look of his glassy eyes I could tell that he had already downed as many beers as I had.

I shook my head, reached over, yanked the bottle out of Yvette's hand, and chugged it myself.

She muttered something unintelligible at me, and ordered a different drink.

While drinking my twelfth beer I was aware that Mitch had suddenly disappeared. It was now that I realized also that my mind was getting fuzzy. The alcohol in my system hadn't been flushed out yet, and for the next three or so minutes I would be as drunk as I would ever get.

I turned around, squinting in the dark of the room, and I spotted him. He was trying to get to the men's room, beer in hand, but some chick had cut him off and was trying to flirt with him.

By now I had lost all Buttercup-sense. As far as I was concerned, under the influence of alcohol, Mitch was my man. And this whore was trying to get at him.

I got up, shoved myself away from the bar, and stalked over.

As I approached I growled, "What's going on here?" And then I clung to Mitch's waist, wrapping my arms around him from the side.

The chick was very short, and probably weighed about 500 pounds. She was disgusting in her maroon-colored tank top. That was all I could register in that drunken state of mind.

"It's alright, babe, go sit down," Mitch tried to soothe, catching on to the silly note in my voice and realizing that I was drunk.

"No, it's not alright. What do you want with him, bitch?" I slurred, pointing my chin out at the girl.

"What is he, your property?" She fired back. Her voice was deeper than… someone's. I distinctly remembered that the guy had green eyes, and a voice deeper than most…

"What do you care? Move along now, tubby."

Without any warning, big girl reached out and tugged me out of Mitch's arms. She shoved me into the men's restroom.

I was numb and couldn't control my actions. I leaped out of the men's bathroom, so dumb I wasn't able to be grateful that no one had been in there, and stormed towards her to punch her face in.

She beat me to that, of course. With the alcohol still in my system, I couldn't fight back. My powers were disabled at this point in time.

One moment I had my arm pulled back, aimed and ready to go, and the next I was on the floor, distinctly aware of the pain in my face.

Mitch was standing above me, saying something, and I couldn't hear him.

After a few moments of that, I blacked out.

A/N

Another cliffhanger, don't ya love me?

Anyway, the winner of the contest WAS announced. I'll give you a hint on where to find it…

You were probably like: "…What?" When you read it. Take out all of the I's and you'll get the username of the winner.

Have fun trying to figure that out. I might need to literally announce the winner in the next chapter haha.

Thanks for reading, and please review!

~Mars