Chapter Thirty-Four: Rivalry

Bulma sat in her chair in the unheated trailer that served as a classroom. For the first time, both she and Vegeta had managed to get to their seats before the second bell rang, indicating that one minute later, you would be late for the first period class of the day. They hadn't spoken much to one another, mainly because she had taken her small white car and Vegeta, as usual, wanted to take his motorcycle to school, and when she arrived after him, he hadn't been around to meet up with her.

People still stared as she walked by, but she didn't mind as much as she had yesterday. At least they were people she didn't know. If Sharpner or Yamcha or Maron had shown themselves, she didn't know what she would have done, especially in Maron's case. That ditz deserved nothing from her and yet all Bulma could think of was giving her a piece of her mind. She was a genuine, real live bitch, and there was nothing more to it. Maron was a girl who had an absurdly obsessive crush on her man, and she didn't take lightly to that kind of behavior. She would have agreed with it if maybe something inside her told her that Maron was a threat to Vegeta and her relationship, but the simple fact that her dream boy despised the aqua-haired wannabe made the hair on the back of her neck rise and bile come up from her throat. It was unflattering.

The idea that Bulma parents would want so badly to keep Vegeta away from her that they would set up a camera to make sure he didn't go upstairs at night made her wonder whether or not her mother disliked Vegeta as well. She knew it was probably her father's idea to set up the camera, but the fact that both her parents had spoken about it yesterday evening, as Vegeta had said, made her worry that maybe her father was convincing her mother that Vegeta was a crazy lunatic. Her mother was her only excuse as to why Vegeta should stay. If both her parents agreed that he had to go, she didn't know what she would do. The only thing she could think of was that she would go with him, of course. He wouldn't leave her and she was perfectly willing to extend the same courtesy to him if the issue ever came about.

"Alright, class," Mr. Piccolo said, entering the trailer with his usual scowl placed on his lazy expression. "Today, I don't feel like teaching—"

The class entered an uproar of cheer, and Bulma sat patiently, waiting for it to die down so Mr. Piccolo could provide an explanation of some sort, or at least what they were going to do instead of listening to him lecture for forty minutes.

"You're getting on my nerves," he murmured, and Bulma could have sworn that she saw a vein pop on his forehead. It looked like he was tired and annoyed. But that was always the case, wasn't it? Mr. Piccolo was always like this, just not as dramatic as today. "So," he began again, "I have a review worksheet for you. It's due tomorrow… right before your chapter two test."

The class groaned and whined as he passed out the review sheets. Bulma figured that she could just do it at home or another time, and she already knew everything they had gone over, so studying was not necessary.

She turned to Vegeta, thinking that this could be some quality talking time, but she found him scribbling down the answers for the review sheet, apparently absorbed in his own thoughts and work. Bulma sighed and put her hands behind her head, leaning her back against the back of her seat and tilting her head up to glance at the mold-covered ceiling of the inside of the trailer. She scrunched her nose and decided to look at the wall instead. It was white with many stains. It looked very old and not sturdy or durable at all, in any way, shape or form. She pictured an earthquake coming and her being crushed inside or suffocated by the ceiling caving in. She immaturely hoped that the ceiling would knock her out first if it decided to cave in and hit her in the head.

After most of the period was over, Vegeta sat back, mimicking her by placing his hands behind his head and glancing up at the ceiling, making a disgusted noise at what he saw, and then turning to stare at the boring wall.

"You're parents are extremely annoying, woman," he said.

"But they're still my parents, annoying or not," she said, a little offended, but not willing to show it.

"I know they're your parents," he replied, as if speaking with a child. Bulma didn't like his tone, "And they are annoying. That's what I just said."

"Stop insulting them, will you?" Bulma said, placing her hands on her desk and looking at his face. His eyes were closed, but he soon opened them to return her gaze. "I know they can be annoying, but that's because they don't want you in my house. Maybe if you were nicer and a little less like you always are to them, then they wouldn't bother you as much."

"They put a camera on me for when I sleep. I've heard a lot of idiotic things that parents do in my short time on this mud-ball of a planet, but your parents are really starting to annoy me. They didn't as much before they decided to stalk me, but I think they've hit an unknown button on me that really shouldn't have been hit."

"Oh, please," Bulma laughed without humor, "Don't be so noble. It's not like you've been very nice to my father. It's not like you've given my parents any reason to actually like you, or at least think that you aren't a threat to me."

"And what makes you think that I am?" he asked, more irritated than curious.

"I don't, Vegeta. I'm just saying that you can't tell my parents how wonderful you are and how good you are for me, and then act as you do, which is like the complete opposite of what you claim."

"I don't need to explain everything I do to those Earthlings. When have I ever had to explain what I do to anyone?"

"They're not those Earthlings, Vegeta. They're my parents. And, well, maybe you should try it every now and again. Bonus points can't hurt at this point."

"At this point? I wasn't under the impression that the time that your parents were staying with us was being monitored so closely. Is this a game to you? Do you enjoy telling me what to do?"

"It's not like you listen anyway," she mumbled, putting her head down.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and turned away. It seemed like her last comment had ended the conversation for him. Bulma silently sighed and slumped into her chair in defeat. Why did he always have to argue with her? Why couldn't he just agree and do what was best for everyone?

The bell rang, making Bulma jump and crawl out of her slump. She grabbed her bags and sighed when Vegeta stood, waiting for her. She knew that he had changed ever since that night at the motel, but she didn't know just how deep that change actually went. He used to run away for reasons she still didn't quite know, but now he stayed… Sometimes, at least. Which was better than not at all. And after last night, where his walls had dropped for only a moment…

She stood and adjusted the straps on her right shoulder as they exited the trailer. She glanced around and saw a couple kissing as they went their separate ways for second period, but when she turned back to Vegeta, he was already walking away.

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"I don't know what it is, Chichi," Bulma sighed. "I just feel like he realizes our relationship, but there's still some part of him that wants to stay away from me. I can't even imagine why. He's made it very clear that he would rather stay on Earth than go back to his home planet, but then why does he seem so distant?"

"Don't you know him by now, Bulma?" Chichi said with a reassuring smile. "Vegeta needs time alone for the smallest things. If he's made it that clear that he isn't leaving you, and doesn't want to, then all he's doing is getting some alone time. It is Vegeta, after all. I can just picture him standing in front of a mirror for hours at a time."

Bulma laughed, though she realized that she couldn't picture that. "I hope he's not going emo on me," she joked, but Chichi hadn't found it funny enough to laugh for. "Chichi, am I overreacting?"

"A little," she replied casually, "But it's understandable. Vegeta still drives me crazy sometimes, and I've known him for just about the entire time he's been on Earth. Plus, I've seen a lot less of him now that he's met you. And if I haven't said it before, thanks for that. Less Vegeta is a nicer time when it comes to shoving him in my house with Goku and me." She smiled, and Bulma knew that it could only be because she was thinking of Goku. Her next question was born out of that happy smile.

"Why can I see the happiness in your eyes when you think about Goku, and yet I can't picture being so happy about Vegeta? Your smile almost reached your ears," she laughed, but her face fell, "And, well, I don't really know. I just think that maybe Vegeta regrets what he chose sometimes."

"You mean you?" she asked, her smile turning into an apologetic one. "I doubt it. Goku knows him the best, and from what he's told me, Vegeta feels that you're the best thing that ever happened to him. And if you ever need reassurance of that, then all you have to do is ask Goku or me."

"Wouldn't I go to Vegeta if I feel that way?" she inquired.

"Well, of course. I just meant that if you needed someone to talk to. And God knows that Vegeta isn't always the best choice for conversation. All he ever does is argue."

Bulma laughed. "You can say that again."

"So… How are things going with your parents in the house?"

Bulma didn't feel like lying. "It's been twelve hours and I've already snuck downstairs at night to see him." She rolled her eyes at herself and why in the world she would have done such a thing. "I couldn't sleep, was all," she added, when Chichi lifted a fine eyebrow at her curiously. "Really. I tried to fall asleep, but after four hours of thinking about him, you know, I had no choice, really."

Chichi rolled her eyes and went back to some worksheet that had been lying unattended on the desk in front of her. She picked up her pencil and looked deep in thought for a few moments before she set the pencil down and turned back to Bulma. "You know, I—" she began, before she was interrupted by a small rectangular object swinging in front of her face. "What are you doing?" she asked blatantly, staring at the black object as if she was hypnotized by it.

"This," Bulma said, "is the film from a camera that my parents set up before Vegeta went to sleep. They were making sure he didn't get up to come see me in the middle of the night. What do you think about that?" she asked forcefully, clearly disliking the object as she shoved it back into her purse's outer pocket and crossing her arms as she huffed.

"Are you saying that the tape has you going downstairs to meet Vegeta on it?" Chichi asked, also dumbfounded at what some parents were capable of doing.

"That is exactly what I'm saying," Bulma replied, looking up at the ceiling. It wasn't as stained as her previous classroom's ceiling, but it was dirty nonetheless. "Vegeta kind of threw it at me this morning, and we didn't get the chance to talk about it during first period. I don't know what to do with it either. I don't want my parents to find it, but won't they know if their recorder is missing a piece of the night?"

"Maybe they'll think it just malfunctioned or something," Chichi shrugged. "Besides, if it's harmless, then maybe you should show it to them to prove a point that Vegeta isn't as bad as they think he is." She paused. "Is it harmless, Bulma?"

"Of course!" she said, jumping in her seat, "But it's personal. I don't want them finding it anyway."

"Personal?" she asked, obviously very interested. Bulma sighed, remembering that her raven-haired friend was a gossip girl. "Are you going to share?"

"I don't really…"

"Oh, come on! We're friends. It's not like I'm going to go shout your personal moments with Vegeta to the entire school. You know I wouldn't do that to you."

"Curiosity killed the cat," Bulma said, glancing sideways at her friend.

"But that means I'm the cat. The phrase says nothing about you getting hurt. And I wouldn't hurt you for my life. You know that. Oh, please share."

"It was barely anything, really," she shrugged, unable to contain the gossip herself. She cursed herself for it, but it wasn't really a secret that couldn't be told, now was it? "I already told you that I went down to see him because I couldn't sleep. I woke him up and laid down next to him. We talked a bit and agreed that we couldn't make a lot of noise with my parents in the house—"

Chichi let out a loud laugh that lasted a few seconds. When she was finished, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and covered her mouth. "Sorry," she quickly said. Bulma rolled her eyes, only assuming that she and Goku, considering that they were the same age as her and Vegeta, knew exactly what she meant by her last words.

"Well…" she continued quietly, now that other people were staring at her, thanks to Chichi's obnoxious laugh. "Then I apologized for letting out what I was feeling from when my parents first arrived. They—"

"You already told me what happened when your parents found you and Vegeta on the side of the road," she said, scurrying Bulma along with her words.

"I know. Don't rush me, will you?" Bulma pouted, folding her arms. "When I apologized, I think some of Vegeta's walls came down…" Chichi sharply breathed in, as if she didn't believe it. "…and he told me that he…"

"Yes?"

"He said that what I feel for him is what he feels for me," she whispered, a bit shocked to find that she barely believed it herself.

After a minute or two of silent thinking between the two of them, Chichi smiled and laughed again. "Well, then why are you worrying about him so much? If he said that to you last night, then why the rant about how worried you are that he regrets his decision to love you more than his own planet, his own home. I think you should stop worrying so much about him. He clearly cares about you, and that's something I never thought I would get to hear myself say about Vegeta, the arrogant, bastard of a conceited prince from a distant planet who is such an asshole that he hates everyone but himself."

"Wow…" Bulma said, "Do you practice saying that in front of your mirror…?"

Chichi opened her mouth to answer, but the bell rang and she grabbed her things and waved as she walked out of the room for third period.

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It was near the end of fourth period when Bulma sighed after the pregnant teacher had announced that they could have the remaining few minutes of the period to talk. Maron, sitting to Bulma's left, hadn't spoken a single word, and Yamcha was missing from his seat. Bulma wondered if maybe she had no fire in her to start a fight. Maron, the bitchy ditz, having nothing to say at all. It was just as likely as it was for the Earth to crash into the sun.

But all the same, she was glad that nothing bad had happened during class. The last thing she needed was another detention where she actually had to explain herself to her parents enough so that her father wouldn't feel the need to blame her for staying after school to spend some quality time with Vegeta without his permission.

"So," the voice to her left said, clearly with something on her mind. It was about time, Bulma thought, although she couldn't hide that she was hoping for the wannabe to just keep her mouth shut for the rest of the day. The simple fact that her parents were trying to spy on Vegeta put her in a bad mood. Maron's presence hadn't made it better either. And speaking, she could only guess, would make her even worse.

"So, what?" Bulma asked, trying to sound lazy instead of annoyed. It worked out as well as any façade.

"How are things with you and Vegeta?" she asked, pointing over to her ebony-haired prince. Bulma pictured herself strangling the bitch. All she wanted was either Vegeta or revenge, and Bulma was quite aware of that.

"Things are fine," she replied casually, refusing to look her in the eye for fear that she wouldn't be able to control her rage.

"I heard your parents are staying with you now," she added, and Bulma almost started foaming at the mouth. "I heard about it through the line of gossip, you know?" she said, laughing a little and covering her mouth with the tips of her fingers. Bulma guessed the gossip line had started second period, when some of the students overheard her and Chichi's conversation. "I feel bad for Vegeta, thought. The poor guy wouldn't have to deal with parents that hate him if he would go with someone else. Take me for example," she shrugged. "My parents don't care what I do with boys. If I ask them to leave the house for an afternoon, they know what's going to happen while their gone. The only thing they do is make sure I have enough condoms before they're out the door, and even then, I don't think that they really care what happens. And if you ask me, that's the life when you're in a relationship that's hot and steamy. It doesn't get much better than that. And I can only image that a relationship with Vegeta is very hot and steamy. Don't you think, Bulma?" She put on an innocent-looking face and tilted her head, pushing her bottom lip out as if she were upset about something. She batted her eyelashes and Bulma had to look away.

"I'm right here," Vegeta murmured, leaning back in his chair with his fingers laced through one another on the top of his head. His tone revealed that he couldn't have cared any less about their conversation. Bulma knew him well enough to know when he just wanted to say something. Now couldn't have been a worse time to do it, though.

"Oh, I know, sweetheart. I didn't mean to offend you, darling," Maron said, wiggling her fingers at him behind Bulma's back as she leaned to get a better view of him. Bulma loudly and slowly took a breath and exhaled through her nose so that Maron could hear her frustration. She decided afterwards that it probably wasn't such a great idea, but she couldn't have cared any less.

"That's not very ladylike of you, Bulma," she said with a sly smile.

"Oh, you think so," she spat sarcastically, "Well, so is asking your parents to get out of the house so you can have a sex marathon with some lowlife bastard that's probably going to leave you after he's knocked you up."

Maron gasped, but Bulma could've swore that she had taken it as a compliment by the hidden smile underneath her hand. "Oh, my!" she said, and Bulma knew some stupid remark was coming next by the edge to her voice. "I had no idea you knew what those things were! I guess Vegeta's been teaching you all about it." She leaned back to look at him again and Bulma saw their eyes meet as she spoke. "But I'm sure you explained it very well to little-miss-innocent over here," she said happily with a great big smile plastered on her face.

Bulma snorted in disgust. She could feel her blood boiling and she worried about getting too angry in the classroom. She didn't know what she would do if she was pushed over the edge.

"What?" Maron asked, "You think he's not good enough for you? You need a rampaging stallion to fuck you up all night? Vegeta's the best of the best, and even the ugliest girls in this stupid building know that. But if you think so lowly of his talents, then maybe you should go find someone that strikes your fancy and leave the big boys to the girls who appreciate them. For you, I would recommend someone fat… like a pig."

That was it.

Bulma felt her elbow bend and her shoulder went back, and before she knew it, her hand was balled into a fist and it was swinging right at Maron's heavily made-up face. It happened so fast that she didn't have time to stop herself. The expression the bitch was giving her was absolutely priceless, and Bulma realized in that moment that she didn't want to stop her arm. Maron needed to be taught a lesson. The hard way.

But she came to an abrupt halt and felt her shoulder nearly pop out of the joint and her elbow snapped so hard that it cracked as loud as all ten knuckles. It hurt for a moment, but it ended when she looked over her left shoulder to find Vegeta gripping her right elbow from around her left side. She glared at him, but he wasn't looking at her as he covered his mouth with his free hand and quietly yawned.

"Please ignore her, woman," he said. His bored tone made Bulma growl. She had been so close to knocking the teeth out of this bitchy whore. "Your parents won't be too happy if they find out that you got into a fight, or, excuse me, killed someone, over me. I quite enjoy my time on your couch, whatever you may think, and it's much better than sleeping outside, if I may say so."

"My hero!" Maron screeched, jumping up and colliding with Vegeta. Bulma watched in horror as she wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled her face into his neck. Vegeta's eyes widened, and he looked more shocked than her, and his reaction time must not have been working correctly because he just sat there, a look of pure incredulity on his face. But when Bulma saw Maron's left hand move to tangle her fingers through his ebony spikes and her right hand moved to the front of his lower abdomen, slowly sliding further and further down, Vegeta finally reacted.

His arm swung up in a wide arc to block her infiltrating hand and he must have hit her without holding back his Saiyan strength, because she flew off of him and landed on her back about three yards away. Bulma cursed when her head just barely missed the edge of the black lab table. The sight of Maron's blood would have quelled her fury.

"Mr. Ouji!" the pregnant teacher screamed, finally walking back into the room and seeing what he had just done. But Vegeta was already standing, and by the time Bulma looked back over at him, he was out the door and going to God knew where.