52 - The Indigo Incident

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January 9th, 2006

Olivine City Gym

"Hey Ed, come on. Beret wants to talk to us."

The teenager looked up from his reading, a magazine on famous Gym Leaders.

He reminds me of Dad. Looks-wise, I mean. Scruffy dark hair. Eyebrows drawn together. Face drawn tight. Light skin, but not pale. Average height, average build, leaning towards lean. Ordinary fashion. He wouldn't look out of place in one of those ancient ninja clan manors, just stick him in a kimono and haori.

"What does he want?" Ed asked sharply.

Personality-wise- nothing like Dad.

"It's important," I said grimly, and then walked away.

Ed reluctantly picked himself up and followed after me. Beth met us at the office door. There was a collective rush of air as we each took a deep breath. We entered.

Mr. Beret was waiting with his back turned to us, facing out the window. Three stools sat in a row before his desk. Like pre-school. The three of us instinctively took our places and settled down. If there was an ounce of impatience, no one dared show it. I had an inkling about what was to come, but the other two seemed ignorant and nervous. Beth was fidgeting on her butt. Ed was sitting up stiff as a Sudowoodo. Mr. Beret kept us waiting for three minutes. That is a long time to be sitting in silence, at attention, and not breathing. It felt like an end-term exam.

"Kurosawa. Hayate. Murasaki." He called out our surnames one by one.

"Yes sir?" Ed ventured aloud.

"I want you to listen to me very carefully. Do not flinch. Do not back down."

Beret wheeled around in his chair, finally facing us. He had the face of a man who's given twenty years of his life to the sea, and another twenty to the city. He rose to his feet, stood firm, and eyed us straight on.

"I am dying."

"Oh my gosh!"

"What?"

Beth and Edward's reaction. I stared onward, blank and empty-feeling.

"Compose yourselves."

My two co-gym-trainers hushed and cowered back into their seats.

"I don't know how much longer I've got. One doctor says a month. Another says three years. It doesn't really matter. What matters is that I can't hold this ship down like I used to. I want you to remember this."

Mr. Beret slid his captain's jacket off, and it struck me very suddenly and deeply at how frail and sickly my mentor was. He's as skinny as I am, for Arceus sake! It's appalling.

"I helmed a 9,000 ton vessel through combat operations in three oceans, had the respect and obedience of 200 sailors, held my post as Gym Leader of this city for eighteen years. Look what I am now. A skeleton."

As if the mere effort of standing at attention had sapped him of all his energy, Beret slumped back into his chair. His bony hands gripped the armrests. His stare never left us, or maybe, it never wavered from that distant point in the past it was trying to pierce.

"Time takes everything. Humans get old. The strong become weak. Never get so full of yourself that you forget that. Open the boxes underneath you."

We found packages that had been set beneath our seats. I took mine apart and found inside a heavy, circular chunk of metal. It was without feature or any other indication as to its purpose. I glanced to either side to check on the others. Ed had gotten the exact same thing. Beth was holding what I recognized as a Water Stone.

"Murasaki, that'll help evolve Staryu. Carefully consider when you're going to use it. Starmie are notoriously hard to train, they don't take to learning new attacks very easily."

"Thank you Mr. Beret," Beth said, wiping her eyes.

"You two, pretty much the same. Metal Coats. Kurosawa, that's for Scyther. Hayate, that's for Onix. You'll get a Scizor and Steelix out of their use. Don't rush it, there's a lot of opportunities and challenges in evolving those two species."

"I'll research it," Ed promised.

I held the Metal Coat in both hands. A little drop hit the surface, creating a tiny damp spot.

"Hayate. What do you say?" I was asked in a gruff voice.

"This is a farewell present," I said.

Mr. Beret regarded me for a moment.

"You are right," he said.

The drop turned to a drip.

"Hayate, I don't want to see you crying. You're not allowed to anymore. You're going to be Gym Leader from now on."

My head jerked.

So did Ed's.

"But sir, I'm-" the boy was silenced by a hand signal.

"No complaining, Kurosawa."

"Sir, I don't get it? Why?"

"I don't have to explain myself. She earned the job, you came up short. Take your seat or take yourself out of here."

Ed grumbled. "What was it?" he uttered. "Am I not good enough in battles? Do you think I mistreat my Pokémon?"

"Shut up," Beret ordered none-too-kindly. Ed got the hint and clamped down on his tongue.

"I'm honored, sir," I said, barely able to avoid stuttering. "I will try to do my best."

"You're gonna need better than your best, kid. I've talked to Pryce over in Mahogany, he's going to take care of you."

I nodded.

"You had better treat my gym right, you got it?"

"I got it."

"That doesn't sound very convincing. You treat my gym and my city right, got it?"

"I got it!" I cried.

"And never forget what we stand for."

I bowed.

Ed glanced over at me.

Please don't hate me. Don't stare at me with those bitter eyes. I mentally pleaded for the boy to take his jealous gaze off of me. He didn't. It remained fixated upon me, vexing me. Yet, in the moments that passed there was a change in his expression. His lips and brow relaxed ever so slightly, and there was a tiny tilt of his head. Something like acceptance came over him, but also something more that I couldn't place.

Beth broke the silence.

"Are you going to be alright, sir? Are you feeling okay?"

"Murasaki, we are not going to discuss this."

"But I don't want to lose you!" she cried.

I felt the same way, but knew enough not to voice it. Beret is not the kind of man to entertain such sentiments.

"Enough of this talk. Get out of here."

He waved us away.

As I was about to exit, a deliberate cough caught my attention and made me pause.

"Hayate," Mr. Beret called. "I'll arrange a meeting later this week, between me, you, your father, and Pryce. We'll break down the details of your leadership then. Since you're under-aged, you'll have to be supervised by Pryce until you can take the qualification exam."

"I understand."

I turned to leave again, but was again stopped.

"Jasmine."

"Huh?"

Mr. Beret's eternal scowl had faded.

"I'm very proud of you," my mentor said.


March 26th, 2009

Olivine General Hospital

"How is he?"

I gently let the door close, getting one last glimpse of Mrs. Beret through the vanishing crack. Ed stepped up, right on top of me. I think he was just trying to look inside the door before it shut, but in my current emotional state I reached out and took him in a shameless hug. My head was buried in his chest. This way I wouldn't have to show the young man my tears.

"That bad?" Ed muttered.

My body felt like a sack of lead casings. I crumpled to the ground, taking a seat with my back to the wall and head bowed. Ed joined me on the floor. We remained there for awhile. A hospital orderly brushed by, leaving a box of tissues on the ground as they passed. I began snapping them up by the handful.

The evening wore on. How much time passed? An hour? I still didn't feel like getting up- or doing anything, really. Ed was less devastated, and shifted to a crouch.

"Come on. He wouldn't want to see you this way," he said.

"He can't want anything now! He couldn't even hear me!" I hissed out.

"Don't say that. He's not gone yet. No, never mind that. That's not the important thing. Who he was, what he meant to us, that's never going away. That's meaningful. Don't disrespect him by ignoring his will."

"I can't think of it that way," I said.

It was very clear to me.

Alive is alive and dead is dead, and nothing else mattered.

Ed understood that about me.

"Well fine, throw him and everything he stood for under the bus. At least admit you're being selfish about it. Pretty self-serving to mope and cry doom about the way the universe is. Doesn't mean it's over for you yet."

"But it'll get there, no matter what."

"Yeah, so what? Let's put it another way, you're gonna get there no matter what, so what're you going to do while you wait? Cry and do nothing, or have some fun, do something interesting?"

"Shut up."

"You're just saying that because you're too stubborn to admit I'm right."

"Shut up, please?"

I'm not in the mood to be consoled, cheered up, or reasoned with. I just want to wallow in nihilism for the moment.

"Fine, mope if you want. You can be Miss Gloombot here or on the plane, it's all the same to me. But I'd rather not waste my reservation. See ya."

"…wait up."

I crawled to my feet and chased after Ed.

"You know the last thing he told me?" Ed said.

"What?"

"If you don't pass the exam, I can have the Gym Leader job."

"That's not true."

"It is. Well, it wasn't exactly the last thing he said to me, but he did say it. But I don't think he was telling me this for my benefit. It was his way of saying, 'Jasmine had better pass the test'. He loved you, Jas. You make a big fuss about being unwanted, but there's people who love you more than you know."

"They keep leaving me," I huffed.

"Not all of them."


March 27th 2009

Indigo Plateau

Pokémon League Regional HQ

Match four of five. I needed four wins to pass, only one screw-up allowed. The Pokemon League is pretty harsh on its Gym Leader candidates. With the first three challenges out of the way, the official had pulled out all the stops in this last round. He was using a Fire-type team, something specifically meant to take advantage of my Steel-types' weakness.

"Magmar, Flamethrower."

Down went Magnemite.

"I'll use Magneton next," I announced. The official wrote something in his notebook. I wondered if I was being graded. It didn't matter, though, I just need to win.

"Thunder Wave."

"Flamethrower."

At Magmar's range, Thunder Wave couldn't reach in its most-accurate, spherical form. Magneton adjusted the current into a more Thunderbolt-like shape, decreasing potency and accuracy in exchange for more range. The paralyzing shock arced across the field and struck Magmar, despite the target's attempt to jump away. The creature responded by billowing flames at my Pokémon. Likewise, the Flamethrower was begging for range and only grazed Magneton. The Steel-type weathered the heat with only moderate damage.

More scritch-scratching as the official jotted into his notebook. "Pokémon trained to fine-tune their attacks to the current situation without overt input. Very good," he said to himself.

With Magmar paralyzed, it became easy for Magneton to stay at long range and hover out of the way of Flamethrower. I expected the Magmar to switch to Flame Shot for the extra range and projectile speed, but either the foe didn't know that move, or wasn't allowed to use it.

"Thunderbolt, stay at range."

"Magmar, attempt to close in and continue using Flamethrower," the official commanded.

Magmar jittered forward in spasmic, irregular steps. Magneton kept as far away as it could, which limited how many Thunderbolts it could fire off at the slowly advancing opponent. My Pokémon was trapped in a corner, with no way to maneuver around the flame-belcher. In the end it was very close- Magmar was in KO range and inhaling air in preparation for a full-force Flamethrower. A last ditch Thunderbolt blasted the thing and finally knocked it silly.

"Not great, no finesse, overly reliant on power differential," the official noted. "Alright. Last matchup. I'm obligated to tell you that I'm under no tactical restrictions for this one. I'll be deploying a Tier 1-B Pokémon, one that is judged to be competitive at the Regional Tournament level of competition. You're allowed to make a free switch beforehand."

"I will," I said. I had Magneton retreat to the side, petting it before recalling it to its Pokeball. In its place, I released Steelix.

"Arcanine."

Oh boy.

I don't see too many of these in our gym. I know they have across-the-board impressive attributes and can function well in a number of roles. The ones I've faced were typically used as blitzing physical attackers, but they can utilize special attacks and certain tanking tactics as well. I'm a little nervous about that latter possibility, because I don't know what utility moves Arcanine are capable of learning.

"Let's assume the worst, that this is a mixed close-range/long-range attacker," I said to myself and Steelix. On the far side, the official was taking glances between me and his notepad. He was whispering to himself as he wrote.

"…opted to switch for a-" and then lifted his eyes up to my Pokémon. "-Steelix… damn, it is a big one." I don't think the official has gotten over the sight of my leviathan. Steelix is a good seven or eight feet longer than normal for his species, and much heavier. A fairly intimidating sight to behold.

Steelix rumbled happily. He had scored fourteen KOs in the past three matches and was eager to earn one more. My own nerves settled down once my giant metal worm was beside me. The official shook his head.

"Alright, let's start."

Focus! It's show time. This guy's going to drop the act and play serious now, so I've got to pull out all the stops as well.

"Steelix!"

"Flamethrower!"

"Dragon Breath!"

Steelix let loose his only special attack. It met the Flamethrower midway, erupting into a magnificent fireball. Steelix's attack was weaker and gave way, but it served its purpose of slowing the Flamethrower down.

Yet Arcanine was not prepared to just stand at range and upchuck fire all day. It was dashing in at a slant, attempting to gain Steelix's flank. A second Flamethrower was fired on the run.

"Fissure!"

"Extreme Speed!"

The Flamethrower caught Steelix across his tail section. The metal coating glowed, and the cave leviathan thrashed in pain. The subsequent Fissure had no chance of catching the zigzagging canine. It veered off in the wrong direction.

"Dive in!"

Steelix ducked into the fissure, right as Arcanine Flare Blitzed overhead.

"Uses terrain and combos effectively. Pokémon shows above-average resistance to type-weak attacks." He's still grading my performance, even while directing the battle. These League officials sure are tight. "Arcanine, dodge."

A Stone Edge volley burst from the ground where Arcanine had been crouching a moment before.

"Earthquake!"

"Extreme Speed."

Arcanine was using Extreme Speed not to attack, but to run away. The seismic shockwaves couldn't travel fast enough to reach the retreating canine. I'll have to make sure the next Earthquake is centered right beneath the opponent.

"Arcanine, follow the epicenter of the quake, Dig, and Flamethrower."

"Steelix, Dig! Excavate Kanto!"

I hope Steelix understood that. This plan won't work if the official catches a hint of what I want Steelix to do. An off-pitch rumble told me Steelix wasn't quite sure what I meant. "Like Kanto! Let's go to Saffron!" I said. I had showed him a map of Kanto recently, he ought to understand.

Steelix began tunneling through the dirt at max power. There was no hiding his location, the surface bulged wherever Steelix went. Arcanine followed as best it could. There were times when it was aggressive, almost right on top of the mound, and other times it was afraid of Steelix popping out of the ground and so jumped away.

"Dig."

He's too aggressive, I thought.

"Earthquake!" I called out.

Arcanine leapt on top of one of the loosened piles of dirt. The Earthquake's oscillations were less severe when having to travel through the berm, weak enough that Arcanine was able to heal the damage off with a Morning Sun.

Meh, that didn't work.

"Keep going," I ordered.

"Dodge and counter-Dig!"

The bulge of earth wove across the battlefield, back and forth. The building itself was shaking from Steelix's subterranean doodling. I took the lay of the field and gritted my teeth.

"Now! Dig attack!"

"There!"

A hole opened up in the earth. Arcanine dashed over in the blink of an eye and let loose a searing stream of fire and smoke into the crevice.

Nothing, no reaction.

Then the ground in a ten yard radius around Arcanine collapsed. A sinkhole rapidly encompassed the foe and buried it up to its shoulders.

"Quake!"

"Get free!"

BRUMBRUMBRUMBRUMBRUM!

The ground and building and my body and everything shook under the sheer force of a Pokémon-induced tremor. Arcanine didn't stand a chance this time, not with it half-buried and at the very center of the attack. The big dog fainted, head resting on the ground.

"Wow. Not only a trap, but meta-level deception." For once, the official set down his notepad and stood agap.

"That's that," he said. "You passed."

"HURRAY!"

That would be my friends and coworkers: Edward, Whitney, Beth, Maurine, Akiko, Aron, Connie, Seth, Aura, all cheering for my victory and rushing onto the field. I myself was overcome by emotion. I sort of forgot what I was even doing here. The last two hours had been so utterly focused on doing what it took to win the battles, that I lost perspective on why winning them mattered so much. It all came back to me as I was hoisted into the air.

"Go Jazzy! Go Jazzy! You're a Gym Leader! Have a party!" they chanted repeatedly.

"Alright! Okay! Off to the lunch lounge!" I cried, and began steering my human showboat towards the exit.

"Ehem!" The official caught my notice.

"Ah! Beep beep back it up!"

I was carried all the way back to the official and deposited before him. We shook hands and I thanked him for being my proctor. He in turn congratulated me for my accomplishment and filled me in on the next steps.

Once that was finished, the girls mobbed me and shook me down.

"I can't believe it! It's official, you're a Gym Leader! At eighteen! Who could imagine!"

"I could! I could! Jasmine was always the best at Pokémon battles!" Whitney shouted.

"Calm down! It's not official yet, I still have paperwork to do. Hey, um, guys, please calm down, we need to leave."

I paused a moment before exiting the battle hall. Something caught my eye in the second-story viewing port. A pair of figures who, the moment I spotted them, drifted out of sight. Someone had been watching my battle. Huh. Weird.

The crowd launched itself down the hallway, only vaguely knowing where it was going and what an acceptable noise level was. I drifted behind them, in a daze and feeling quite aglow. One of the boys gradually fell behind until he was walking beside me.

"He'd probably snort and say 'good for her!' at a time like this, wouldn't he?" Ed said to me. I nodded in agreement. "I think he knew you would breeze through the exams. That's why he never tried to encourage you, he was afraid of Jynxing it."

"He was superstitious," I said fondly.

"So, now the gym really is all yours. No 'Acting Gym Leader' anymore, it's all on you. Make him proud."

"I will try."

Ed gave me a rub on the shoulder.

"I just hope I make it back in time to tell him."

"Oh, it's been one day. You'll see him tomorrow. He wasn't, you know, on death's door when we left. He'll get better. You'll be able to tell him all about the exam. Just wait, and remember to be happy. He'll reel you if you show up grumpy and depressed."

"But…"

"Don't worry. You'll see him again."

"I hope so."

"You hoped you'd see me again? Aw, that's so nice of you Jazz."

Morty jumped back as if expecting to defend himself from a beating. However, my arms were limp at my side. I barely even turned to face him.

"You're an asshole."

"Woah! Eh, hehe, sorry?" The blondie tried catching up and walking beside me, but I tip-toed around to put Ed between the two of us. "Hey, at least say hi? It's been almost a year."

"Hey, who are you? Leave her alone."

"I'm a dear old friend of the lady," Morty answered.

"Ignore him," I told Ed.

I grabbed Ed's hand and dragged him onwards, hoping to outrun the irksome intruder. That was impossible.

"Wait up!"

The creep was utterly determined to be a part of our group, whether I liked it or not. We rejoined the others.

"Morty!"

"Whitney girl! Holy cow, you've grown a pair!"

"Don't mess with me, you've never been about the boing boing! DFC pedo!"

"Hahahaha!"

"So that must make you Mr. Matsuba," Ed said warily.

"I see my reputation proceeds me."

"Disreputation," Ed corrected.

"Even better."

Morty danced around, greeting people, chatting with them, ingratiating his way into their good graces. Ed seemed overly suspicious of the interloper, which was a good thing as far as I was concerned. He shadowed Morty from behind, following his path and keeping tabs on everything he said. It wasn't an easy task, on account of Morty's erratic movement and tendency to run his mouth. I in turn spotted something suspicious shadowing Ed. His shadow, in fact.

I quietly let out Magnemite and ordered a Thunder Shock upon the quivering silhouette. A Gengar jumped out in surprise.

"GARA!"

"Hey what the hell?!" Ed flinched, spooked by the Ghost Pokémon landing on his back.

"Aw, Gengar, what are you doing? You were suppose to tail him!"

"You knew I was tailing you?" Ed asked in disbelief.

"You've got a long way to go before you're ready for undercover work, mister detective."

"I want to know what you're doing here."

"Work-study. I'm thinking of entering the Gym Leader apprenticeship program."

"I mean what you're doing here, now, bugging our group."

"Oh that…" Morty skipped around until I suddenly found him leaning down before me, head held face-to-face with mine. It was unnerving. I drew back a little. "I heard my long lost middle school friend was taking her Gym Leader exam, and while I was in the building I thought I'd check up and see how she was doing. Congratulations, by the way. Didn't think they'd let a volcano like you run a gym, but you did it."

I furrowed my eyebrows and said nothing. The only response I felt I could muster was a frown, before distancing myself from Morty.

"Huh. That's unexpected."

Morty tried chasing me, but Ed blocked his way.

"What's your deal?"

"That's my line," Ed insisted.

"I'm trying to say hi to her. It's been awhile since we've talked. Could you let me through?"

"She doesn't want to talk to a pervert like you."

"Oh so I'm a pervert? Is that what she told you?"

"Among other things," Ed added.

"Well, knowing her, everything she told you is true, and then some, because she's too stuffy to relay the nastier tidbits."

"You're not helping your cause here. Back off."

"Listen, buddy, I'm not going to hurt her, it's all in good fun. We used to do this all the time."

"She doesn't seem to want to talk to you. Come back later."

"Why don't we let her talk for herself? Jazz, hey, would you mind informing this guy that it's okay for us to talk? It's not like we have a restraining order in place."

"Morty, go away," I called over my shoulder.

"You heard her." Ed dared to shove Morty in the chest. Instead of blowing his fuse, Morty took it in stride. He dodged around the meddling boy and wormed his way in front of me again. I scowled.

"Mm mm oa oa,' he hummed, cupping his hands on top of his head to resemble Buneary ears.

I couldn't help but crack a smile. A giggle escaped my lips.

Ed jogged up, the look of anger and worry on his face giving way to confusion upon seeing me.

"Come on," Morty implored.

"Mmm mm now we are here caramelldansen," I quietly sang and tepidly mimicked Morty. Our hips bounced side-to-side and hands flapped about. This dance routine only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to break my resolve.

"Hey, are you trying to molest her?" Ed asked.

"It's alright Ed, he can join us."

"Fun times," Morty said.

Ed's bewilderment grew, to the point where he looked like a lost Mareep.

"How've you been?" Morty asked, and it seemed he had finally dropped the clown act.

"It's been crazy," I said.

"Gym Leader Jasmine. I like the sound of that. Must've been hard work to get the title."

"Very hard, but it's over and I'm glad for it."

"But now the real work starts. You've got to go home and start taking challengers."

"I've been the acting Gym Leader for three years, it won't be any different for me."

"Oh is that so? Mr. Beret on vacation?"

Ah, all the tumultuous, painful emotions are bubbling up again. Thanks, Morty.

"Mr. Beret has cancer," Ed said flatly, answering for me.

Morty didn't know how to respond to that.

"You have the worst timing," I told him.

"Oh is that what you were… I'm really sorry," Morty said.

"Sorry is just a word."

"You're right. But I do mean it. Let me make it up to you somehow." He looked around. "You're probably stressed and tired, right?"

"Extremely," I said with a nod.

"Why don't we go to an onsen? There's a nice one just north of town."

"An onsen?" That sounded dubious.

"Yeah, sure. This work-study program I'm in puts my Pokes through the grinder, so I take them there to detox. The water feels great, they say the minerals in it help loosen your muscles up."

"A hot spring with Haunter- Gengar, I mean. That sounds like a bad idea."

Morty ran a hand through his hair, thinking of a way to reassure me his intentions were noble.

"Gengar won't bug you, I promise. I'll keep him in his Pokeball, if it'll make you feel better."

"Please."

"Done."

Gengar yelped in shock as he was forcibly dragged into his Pokeball. It was nice to see the ghost on the receiving end for once.

"So, I don't have a swimsuit," I said.

"Oh, no problem, it's a nude bath."

"Um…" that was supposed to reassure me… how?

Morty realized the problem and backpedaled.

"Oh! No, no no no! It's not like that, the springs aren't co-ed. There's boys, girls, and mixed."

"Oh I see. You'll get me into the girls bath and then peep over the wall."

Morty gagged. I sighed.

"Let's just go, I'm hungry. Do they have food there? I don't want to eat at the cafeteria here."

"Yeah, a nice sushi bar right there in the inn. I can get us rooms if you want."

"No, don't," I protested, even though I knew Morty had already made up his mind.

"Whitney, are you coming?"

"Sure!"

"What about the rest of you?"

Most of my friends weren't here just to cheer me on, they were attending a trainers convention this weekend. They all wanted an early start on the line for World Champion Tobias' autograph and so declined. It was just the four of us as we headed outside to find a taxi.


We stood before a majestic old inn.

"This used to be Indigo Plateau Gym, before it was moved to Pewter," Morty explained. "Come on, let me show you around."

Inside there was an exceptionally large lobby, mostly occupied by a kabuki theatre stage. Paper lanterns were strung across the room, providing most of the dim lighting. I assumed this space was the battle arena back in the day. Various hallways led off to the other components of the inn: the restaurant, bar, gift shop, gym rooms, hotel rooms, and onsen bath. Morty reserved a pair of rooms for us and treated us to the sushi bar, all on his dime ("scholarship money" he claimed).

"Pokémon are only allowed in the mixed bath."

"Choir is my only Pokémon who can swim."

"Choir?"

"Corsola."

"Didn't know you had one of those. Catch her out of the sea?"

"Yes."

"Like being back home in Olivine?"

"Very much so."

"You don't miss Ecruteak even a little bit?"

"Not at all."

"Aww. That stings."

"It has nothing to do with you Morty. I didn't want to be there in the first place."

"That's why you were such a party-pooper all middle school?"

"You're just now figuring it out? Come on." I was more than ready to get into the hot water. Morty held us up with a wave. A devilish grin came over him.

"I'll be right back. Hey Ed, come with me, I'm gonna need help."

Whitney and I were left in the dark, blinking.

"That was sudden."

"Hey Whitney."

"Hmm?"

"You went to high school with Morty. Has he grown up any?"

"Nope. Pretty much the same goofball you knew in middle school."

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"Oh lighten up. He wasn't really that bad, was he? Why don't you kiss him? He'll treat ya nice then."

"No!"

"Oh… is it because you've got a thing for for Edward?" She snuggled in close.

"No! Of course not!"

"Oh come on! You've never had a boyfriend, it's weird. He's your type, he's available, he works with you on a daily basis. Haven't you at least tried dating him?"

"Why would I? He's just a guy I know, it doesn't mean we have to date. I don't want a relationship. I'm not interested. Drop the topic."

"Tsk tsk. Eighteen years old, way too old to be playing innocent." Whitney pushed me towards the hall marked "Hot springs". "Haven't even been kissed. We've got to fix that."

"But I… never mind. No, I don't want to kiss a guy!"

Whitney paused.

"Do you like girls?"

"What?! No! That's perverted!"

Whitney soured.

"Are you a homophobe?"

"What?! No! That's rude!"

"Are you a prude?"

"What?! No! That's mean!"

"Are you a-"

"Stop with the questions already!"

Whitney steered me into the changing room. [CENSORED] The girls undress. Jasmine compares "assets". [/CENSORED]

"Yours are too large for your body," I said.

"Don't be jealous. The boys like them."

"What?! You've… have you done it already?"

Whitney went coy, a slip of a grin peeking out of the corner of her mouth.

"No- not all the way. Not yet," she fessed up. "Maybe tonight? Maybe Morty?"

"You wouldn't!" I exclaimed.

"I wouldn't? Really? Well, only if you claim him first."

"Eww! Stop being a pervert, Whitney!"

"Come on, out we go."

She urged me through the door.

The hot spring was one large rock pool, divided into three parts by a wood fence. I climbed up on a stool to look over, and found myself looking at the mixed section. On second thought, I probably shouldn't have risked soiling my eyes, but I lucked out. Only a few Pokémon and one young couple, in swim suits, occupied the bath. I guess there's not much business here in late winter. There was no sign of the boys. The air was freezing to my bare skin, a fact reinforced by a gust of wind. I scurried and hopped into the girl's pool, which was also a mistake.

"HOT! HOT HOT HOT!"

I went from Dante's Hell to Edward's Hell in an instant.

"Hoy, what's the racket? Piper down."

Morty's voice.

"Where are you?"

"Here."

It came from the other side of the fence. I daintily made my way to the divide in the water and put my ear against the wood.

"Morty?"

"Over here."

His voice led me further down the fence.

"Grab this," he ordered.

I was confused, until I looked down. There was a hole in the fence, under the water, and a bottle was sticking through. I took it and read the label.

"Jinkokusei Malt, Rice Wine." I nearly dropped the thing in surprise. "It's sake! You can't have alcohol in here!"

"True and not true. Alcohol is allowed in the baths, but not for us under-aged young adults."

"Then why did you bring it? Where did you get it?"

"I made some friends at the bar. Here, grab the cups. Are you going to turn me in?"

"I ought to."

"You know, on the continent the drinking age is eighteen. I think we're old enough to handle ourselves. We're not driving, we're not on the streets. What's the harm? Besides, it's a one-time deal; we're celebrating you earning your Gym Leader title."

"I… fine. Whatever. You can do whatever, I'm not drinking."

"I will," Whitney said, grabbing both the bottle and the cups from me and pouring herself a shot. She gulped the first one down whole.

"Woah! Strong!"

"You're going to get drunk," I complained.

"Not drunk, just tipsy," Whitney said. From the sounds of it, Morty and Ed were also taking their shots.

"You're going to be the only one left out."

"I'm fine, I really am."

"How's the view, Whitney?"

"Whadya mean?"

"Well, I reckon you're lucky enough to behold Miss Jasmine there completely naked. Must be a pretty sight."

"Eh, I don't bat that way. Much rather come join you."

"By all means."

"Whitney, don't joke like that!" I said.

"I'm drunk, like you said."

"You can't possibly be impaired yet."

"Weee!" She twirled in circles in the water. I myself was growing cold and self-conscious and so gradually slipped my upper body under. Once my blood vessels grew accustomed to the heat it actually felt pretty good. Mother never lets me take long baths, so this a rare guilty pleasure for me.

After playing in the pool for a bit, the four of us settled in and relaxed. We rested with our backs to the fence so that we could talk. For awhile it was just idle chit-chat, Whitney and Morty catching up and Ed introducing his life story.

"Rich kid, aren't ya?"

"I don't like being called rich. I don't see any of it, it's all tied up in their investments."

"Still, they treat you nicely."

"Not really. It's really embarrassing, actually. I have to go to these societies, basically where rich people send their kids to learn how to "create success"- it's a load of crock, all they're doing is strengthening the buddy network, getting us personal contacts early. And I suck at it."

"Not your cup of tea, huh?"

"Well, I feel sabotaged by my folks. They want me to be a rich snob, but they don't understand you have to have the perks to show off to other snobs that you belong. So you get kids showing off their premium breeder Pokémon- Charmeleons, Bayleefs, Marshtomps- and here I am with nothing but the Pokémon I caught in my backyard."

"Tough to be you."

Etc etc…

"I'm going to be Goldenrod's Gym Leader," Whitney asserted.

"Pretty confident, are we?"

"I have the inside track. Mallory is being promoted to a Pokémon League position, and she's having a competition to decide who to replace her. I got intel that it's going to be Pokeathlon sports, which basically means she's rigging the contest in my favor."

"How so?"

"My Pokémon are the best in city at Pokeathlon! It's not even close."

"Lucky ducky."

"Right on! What about you, Morty? You're in this apprenticeship program, you said?"

"Aye, that's right. Although, it's only a precursor. My parents really want me to go to college, so I'm still figuring out which way I want to go."

"Hey, Ed, do you want to be a Gym Leader?"

"Yes, but obviously, the position was just occupied."

"Well sure, but why not try for another city? Are you good enough?"

"I think I'm good enough, or at least, I am confident I can become good enough. But I don't want to," Ed answered.

"Why's that?"

"It would mean moving out of Olivine."

"Any particular reason to stay? I heard it's become a dump."

"There are things in Olivine worth staying for," Ed answered.

"Oh. I see."

See what I mean? Tedious, boring chatter. Nothing special.

The peace and platitude would not last forever, however.

"Hey, Whitney, how much of that sake you've got left?"

"Most of it."

"Good. We've got a bottle over here. Let's play truth or dare."

"Okay."

"Jasmine, no complaining. You're playing this."

"Why should I?"

"Why should we hang out with you?" came Morty's pointed remark.

"Because…"

"If you hate who we are, why bother sticking around?"

"It's just you, Morty, you're the source of the idiocy around here," I tried arguing.

"Actually, I agree with him. You're too stuffy sometimes," Whitney said. I fumed. To think, the only other woman would side with the pervert over me.

"You'll have more fun if you go along," Ed said. "Why not give it a try? Tomorrow you've got a lot of work to do when you get back, so let's have fun while we still can."

I huffed.

"Fine. As long as I don't have to do anything sexual, you got it!"

"It's alright, the rules of the game will help you with that."

"What is the game?"

"Truth or dare, college edition."

"How does that go?"

"Easy. I give you the choice between truth or dare. You pick, then I ask a question. If you don't want to answer the truth or do the dare, then you have to take a sip. We all take turns."

"Okay."

I only agreed because I thought I could simply ask for a truth each time it came to my turn. There's nothing in my life they could think to ask about that would embarrass me. This will be easy.

And so we began.

"Dare," Whitney said.

[REDACTED]

The boys laughed and Morty said that was enough.

"Truth," Ed said for his turn.

"Who was the first girl you jacked off to?"

"Ew, Whitney!"

There was silence.

"Well?"

"He just took a shot, Whitney," Morty replied. Ed could be heard letting out a hefty exhalation.

"Dare. Jasmine, you have to come up with it," Morty insisted.

"I dare you to have Gengar fart in your face," I said in complete seriousness.

"What kind of dare is that?"

"It's exactly what you had Haunter do to me in sixth grade. No complaining!"

"Fine, fine. Gengar, come out."

We were soon treated to the gastrous noise of Gengar flatulating. Edward gave us a detailed description, confirming that indeed Morty had suffered the dare.

"Aww. Man, stinks! Eww. Ugh. Jazz, your turn."

"Truth."

A moment's pause.

"Who was the last guy you had a crush on?"

My mind sank.

How could I possibly… no. Impossible. I can't tell him.

I tipped the cup over and emptied a mouthful of the liquid into my throat.

It tastes bad.

Oh shoot, what is this? My stomach feels like it just got hit by a sack of ice.

"She drank," Whitney informed the boys.

"Oh really? Huh, interesting."

You just got lucky. Ask me something more in line with your reputation, Morty! Like "Who do you want to sleep with?" Then I can truthfully answer "No one!"

And yet, each time my turn came up:

"Have you ever gotten a present from a boy because he liked you?"

Bottom's up.

"What's the greatest compliment a guy has given you?"

Bottom's up.

"Who do you think has a crush on you right now?"

Bottom's up.

"Who's the cutest guy you've ever met?"

Bottom's up.

"Have you ever masturbated? What were you thinking of when you were doing it?"

Bottom's up.

"Who do you hate most in the world?"

Bottom's up.

It was that last one that caught Morty's attention.

"Huh. Didn't expect that."

"What is it?" Ed asked.

"Well I coulda swore she'd say I was the one she hated most in the world. Who else could it be? Jasmine, who is it?"

"I jwust dwank- I jwust- jwust- dwammit! I just drank a shot so I would not have to answer that!" Morty's questions have been hitting too close to home. I've consumed too much alcohol and could probably be arrested for public intoxication (as if my under-aged drinking wasn't bad enough). Now I'm glad Morty booked those rooms for us.

"Last one," Morty said.

"Dare!" I yelled out in frustration, unwilling to take another one of his laser-guided interrogations.

"Oh. Haha. Okay, I dare you to go ask the counter guy out on a date."

"Um, okay."

"Right now."

"But I'm naked."

"That's part of the dare."

I shivered, despite being saturated in steaming hot water.

My gaze fell to the cup. There was nothing left. Whitney saw my conundrum and offered me the bottle helpfully.

The effect of alcohol on the brain's higher functions is truly a destructive one. At this moment, the repercussions, both social and psychological, of what Morty was asking me to do were dimmed to my comprehension. The physical effect of the sake on my stomach was much more immediate. I was absolutely sure that a single gulp of the liquid poison would be the end of me, or at least tip me from "drunk" to "woefully sick". Between the choice of embarrassment and biological suffering, I chose to humiliate myself.

"Okay. I'll do it."

"Really?!"

I stepped out of the pool, wobbling a bit.

"Here I go."

I tip-toed along, finding every hiding place I could, staying in the shadows as best I could, and darting from one safe haven to the next. The air was dry and colder than an hour ago, causing me to shiver violently.

"Just do it, just do it, just do it."

I tried calculating my move, how I could get away with the dare while exposing myself as little as possible. The lobby was just around the corner now.

"Okay."

I took a deep breath, and began sprinting.

I ran around the corner, around a couch, darted from one pillar to the next, leapt across the gap, found a corner where I wasn't totally exposed, and presented myself before the receptionist.

I made a deep bow, the better to hide my nudity.

"I know this is sudden and strange and perverted but would you please excuse my appearance and go out on a date with me?" I huffed out all at once.

No answer.

Is he speechless?

I squirmed where I stood.

After ten seconds and no reaction, I dared looking up from my bow.

The guy at the counter had his head in his arms, eyes closed.

He's napping.

Oh gosh I am the luckiest woman to take 'Dare' in the history of the game of 'Truth or Dare?'. With my dignity still barely intact I dashed out of the lobby and back towards the hot spring.

"Smile!"

A flash. I was dazed.

I blinked, and came to.

Morty was crouched in a side-hallway, looking directly at me. He had a camera held at ready in his hand. Ed was standing behind him. They had an expression of shocked triumph, not entirely believing they had managed to accomplish their plan.

"Wah?" I uttered.

"Um, one more?" Morty said, and then raised the camera and took another.

"Um…"

Panic-mode.

The next thing I registered was water splashing in my face. Apparently I had cannon-balled directly into the bath. How I got from the hallway to the onsen was not stored in my short-term memory.

"How'd it go?" Whitney asked.

"They-they-they-they-they-they-they-they-" I repeated this one nonsensical pronoun over and over, ad nauseam.

"What? Jasmine, calm down. Hey!"

"They-they-they took a- a - oohh-" I let out a soft, pitiful moan.

I'm doomed.

Morty is dead, that's a given.

But now that I have to murder him, my life is over. They'll lock me up forever. It's over. Damn it. Damn it so much.

How does damnation work? I know "damn it" is supposed to be a request to God to send the perpetrator to Hell, but whoever put it into humanity's head that God would do such a thing for individuals? It's a weird curse now that I think about it.

Wait.

Oh dear Jasmine, put your head on straight.

Morty has a physical record that captured your nude self in photographic form.

"I've got to destroy it. His camera," I said.

"What?" Whitney exclaimed.

I climbed out of the pool and began looking for the bath towels.


"Jasmine, for the love Pokémon, that's a 30,000 Pokedollar camera, please, please don't break it."

I held the offending instrument up above my head.

"Is that so?" I said with a level of calmness and reasonability that belied my current actions. I lowered the camera back to my waist line. Morty looked visibly relieved.

"These new models store everything on an SD card, don't they?" I flipped the camera over, located the hatch, and popped the memory card out.

"Woah, Jasmine-" Morty lunged. I casually tossed the camera to him, forcing him to stop and catch the thing before it fell to the concrete. As for the SD card- I tossed it up into the air, whereupon Magneton promptly fried it with a Thunderbolt.

"Good Pokémon!"

Morty stared aghast.

"Jasmine…"

"Perhaps you should think twice, before taking nude pics of women without their permission!" I yelled at him with rising vehemence.

"I'm sorry. It was…"

"Don't bother apologizing. Grr! I knew you would try something evil!"

"Oh lighten up," Morty said, irked.

"Lighten up-

LIGHTEN UP?!

I'LL LIGHT UP YOUR SORRY ASS!"

"Oh dear, that's the Jazz I remember." Morty began dashing away with nothing but a towel wrapped around his butt. On account of being a girl with precious little curvature, I had to hold my towel up to my chest with both hands. It was enough to slow me down and prevent me from pulverizing the miserable miscreant into dust.

"Get back here!"

"You're too scary!" he shouted over his shoulder.

"Magneton! Thunder Shock!"

Morty let out his Ghastly.

"Smokescreen!"

Magneton unleashed a half-dozen jolts of electricity into the haze, but it seemed none found their mark. Morty made it safely to the inn and disappeared into the maze of hallways. One late-night guest stared bewilderedingly, another scowled.

"Hey kids, behave yourselves! I'll tell management on you!"

Thus scolded, I cowered my way back to the changing room. My clothes were gone.

"Whitney? Where are you?"

My friend had disappeared.

I lilted about the inn, half looking for Whitney, half wandering aimlessly. On instinct I jumped up every staircase I came across. Perhaps I was succumbing to the urge to escape into the starry sky. My vertical adventure ended at a rooftop landing. Indigo Plateau lay before me, a collection of bright boxes nestled within the towering blackness of the mountains. Even Pokémon League HQ, a twenty-story skyscraper, looked like a lunch pail compared to the peaks. Off to my right, a great shadow practically blotted out the sky and made the other mountains look like toddlers in comparison: Mt. Silver.

Nature is sublime. Overpowering. We're nothing but specks against the cosmic backdrop.

I sighed.

Natural instinct is quite overpowering as well. I had promised to myself I would steel my heart and never get drawn into this kind of situation ever again. It was for naught. The brain is a slave to the genetic blueprints it was constructed by. It bows to peer pressure in order to maintain social harmony. Put alcohol in it, and inhibitions are lowered. Throw an opportunity to perpetuate its genes, and it will trigger arousal throughout the body, forcing behavior that would otherwise be deemed unacceptable, even hazardous to one's social standing.

I can't figure out if I'm angry with Morty and Ed for acting on their base instincts and making creeps out of themselves, or with myself for enabling them with my idiotic actions.

"Jasmine."

My introspection was interrupted by Ed's voice. He climbed up the stairs, slowly and non-threateningly.

"Why did you do that?" I asked.

"I want to apologize."

"What good is that? Why didn't you think beforehand? You could have stopped Morty."

"It seemed innocent. Like a joke."

"I was naked! It didn't occur to you that that was wrong?"

"Well, you agreed to the dare, so it didn't seem like you were too concerned about being caught naked. We just wanted to photograph the clerk's reaction. Catching you was an accident, a stupid spur of the moment thing. I'll make sure Morty deletes the pics."

"I already took care of that."

Ed hung his head. He reached out, offering me a bundle of clothing- my sundress and underwear. I took it without comment.

"I'll give you some privacy."

He walked back down the stairs.

"Wait."

I don't know what I was thinking, but it felt like there was something unsaid between us. I got dressed while the young man waited patiently.

"Come up here."

I took a seat at the edge, while Ed stood beside me.

"Well?" I said.

"Jasmine, I've- we've known each other for four years now."

"Yeah."

"But do you really think we've gotten to know each other?"

"What do you mean?"

"I feel like, ever since that day, you've been a different person. Shy. Hurt. Reticent. I don't understand why. Because of that, it's made me feel like I ought to be helping you. But I can't. I don't know why and I don't know how. That makes me angry with myself."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

He tensed up.

"I like you," he said.

My stomach curled.

"I'm so sorry. I like you, everything about you. I told Morty to ask you that dare. I wanted to see you without clothes on. It was lust, plain and simple. It was stupid and immature of me. I hope you understand and forgive me, because I want to make it up to you. I want… I want for us to be a couple. I love you."

I think I'm about to cry. Again.

"We've been friends for a long time, and I've had these feelings from the start. I wished we could be more than friends all along. I just didn't have the courage to confess, until now."

He kneeled beside me, and tried to get my attention.

"I don't know how you really feel about me. I think you like me too. But I want to be sure. I'll understand if you hate me because of this fiasco, but either way, I'd like to know how you feel."

My answer came by rote.

"I'm sorry if I misled you, but I have no interest in being anything but friends," I recited.

Ed's grief upon hearing those words was palpable. His breathing became convulsed, his eyes grew watery, his hands began shaking. He was struggling to maintain his composure- and failing.

"But... why? Is it because of what I did? I'm so sorry."

"It's not that. I don't know how my head works, I just have no romantic feelings towards you. Or anyone. I can't feel love." I turned to face him eye-to-eye. "I'm sorry, but it was doomed from the start. I just can't bring myself to return your feelings."

Ed wordlessly ran off, as fast as he could.


I had trouble sleeping. That's why I was conscious enough to hear my cellphone buzz off at 12:46 A.M. I struggled with the disheveled covers before reaching for the device.

"Hello?

…Oh hi Erika.

…It's kind of late to be congratulating me.

…I passed my exam, there's nothing left but some paperwork. Hold on, you're talking too fast.

…What does that mean?

…SAY WHAT?!"

The phone dropped to the floor.


"Morty!" I burst into his room. "Morty!" I yelled, upon discovering the boy in question draped over a certain redhead. The two were stripped down to their undergarments and lip-locked.

"Get off!" They were oblivious to my shouting at first. He was not so oblivious when I manually lifted him off of her and rolled him off the bed.

"Ouch! What the fuck! Jasmine, fuck off!" I slapped him across the head, hard. Out of instinct he swung a fist at me, but I was faster and meaner and caught him by the balls with my foot. The boy lurched to a crouch.

"FUUUUCK!"

"How dare you!"

"Jasmine, we were just kissing! Don't throw a damn hissy fit!"

I spotted Morty's laptop on the desk and rushed over to it.

"Don't smash it!" Morty cried. Luckily for him, that was not my intention. Unluckily for him, what I intended was far worse.

"What is the meaning of this!" I shouted, flipping the open computer round and showing him the contents of the screen.

A web browser window was opened to PalPark, the most popular social media site for Pokémon Trainers. Right at the top of my personal page, a picture was posted for all the world to see: me, completely nude, standing like a Deerling in the headlights, with the onsen bath in the background. The caption listed 'Mortimer Matsuba' as the uploader.

"I didn't do that!" Morty exclaimed.

"You filthy liar!"

I opened up another half-dozen websites. All social media pages, all with the damning photo of myself spread across them.

"What is the meaning of this? How the hell did this happen? You better explain to me right now!" I shouted.

"Calm down, don't hurt anyone!" Whitney urged. I was heaving, my hands clawed and nose snarling.

"I honestly don't know what the hell happened," Morty said pleadingly.

"Magneton fried your memory chip! How did this photo even get here? What did you do? Tell me!"

"I… my camera has wifi, it can upload things to my personal storage. It must've transferred automatically. But Jasmine, I have no clue how it got from my comp to the internet. Honestly."

"You're lying! You put it there!"

"Stop yelling! They'll call the cops!"

I followed his advice, but still wasn't calm or relaxed.

"You have ten seconds to give me a proper explanation, or else I'm reporting you to the cops."

"I need more than ten," Morty said. He put his hands together in a begging fashion, before carefully extricating the computer from my grip.

Whitney placated me while Morty went to work. His eyes frantically danced across the screen, searching for some answer that would save his butt.

"This is all my fault. It's because I took that picture."

"Of course it is!"

"But I… oh. Shit."

Morty leaned back.

"What is it?"

He didn't answer. His gaze was focused on the ceiling.

"Um… I was… hacked. Fuck."

"Hacked?!"

"The security on this place's network blows. It's two years out of date. I should've known better."

"What do you mean you got hacked?" I demanded.

"Some turd somewhere else in the world hacked into my computer, found your nudie, and started uploading it everywhere using my account."

"I don't believe you," I said.

"It's the truth!"

He started logging in to his accounts one by one, deleting the pictures as he got access to them.

"Fuck! Shit! People are downloading it."

A search for the pic showed it had already migrated to three other websites.

"You bastard! you did this on purpose!"

"No, I swear! It's my fault, but it was negligence, not on purpose! Let me focus on fixing it, then you can beat me till I'm a bloody pulp. But please wait."

I paced around the room, dashed out, and returned with my cellphone.

"Erika?"

"I'm here," my best friend said over the loudspeaker.

"Who is that? Erika? From Celadon?"

"Yeah."

"What's going on? Can I help?"

"Hey Erika, are you any good with computers?"

"Not in the least."

"Crap."

"Explain the situation to me anyways."

"I think my computer got hacked. Jasmine's pic is starting to go viral. If we don't head it off, it'll spread all over the internet. She can't afford a pic like that getting loose, she might get fired from her job," Morty explained.

"I just earned that job, I don't want to lose it!" I cried.

"How did that photo come to be taken in the first place?"

"Long story, tell you later," I said. "Morty, what can you do?"

"Jasmine, I may be useless, but I have friends who are excellent with technology. Let me get ahold of them," Erika said over the phone. "Where is Proton's number?" she muttered to herself, and then the line went silent.

I stared at Morty, who stared at me, while Whitney stared at both of us. We all held our breath.

It took an hour, but when Erika returned she urged us to sweep the internet. Morty did, running all the forms of image search he could think of, but no trace of the incriminating photograph could be found. Morty went to his personal documents, found a dozen displaced copies, and deleted all of them as well. He then ran every virus scan and firewall update known to geekdom, before flopping on the bed.

"That was close," he uttered.

I made to leave.

"Jasmine, wait. If you want to rag on me, by all means. I'll take any punishment you want. Please forgive me."

"Leave me alone," I muttered.

"Jazz! I'm sorry!"

"I'm tired. Say that again in the morning, I'll decide what to do with you then."


Men are so stupid.

My heart is a wreck. It can barely handle the stress of this constant Tauros-shit wrecking havoc on my life. How in the world could the organ also bear the weight of a relationship? There's no room in there for love.

Not for Ed, and certainly not for Morty.

Ed is… dumb. If he had half a brain, he'd be able to tell all of my overtures to him were nothing more than ordinary gestures of politeness. There was never any intention to invite his affection to myself.

As for Morty, he is a liar. He's just covering his tracks with this claim of a hacker. He probably thought it would be funny to show off my bare body for all my friends, coworkers, and family to see. "Hey all! This is what your dear daughter looks like without underwear on! Look! Look! Make fun of her! Laugh at her itty bitty titties! She's just like a child! You're a pedo for looking at her! Hahahaha!" That boy has no compunction, no morals, whatsoever. He goes with whatever Aipom-brained idea occurs to him and stumbles his way through the consequences after the fact. What a creep! An idiot! Tomorrow I'm going to smack him! It's time I taught him a lesson, a good one! Maybe hurting him isn't enough. Maybe I really do need to denounce him before the police and the Pokémon League.

I lurched around in the covers.

I was assuming I could even get enough sleep tonight to be rested and capable enough to do anything but drag myself to the airport tomorrow. This sucks. That's not a phrase I like using but it' the most apt and succinct way to relay my current feelings.

Boys!

UGH!

I rolled over, face stuffed into the pillow, and let out a scream.

I hate them all!

Why me? Why does life always have to rag on me? Why do they all do this to me?!

There was a knock at my door.

I raised myself.

"Whitney, I thought you were sleeping with Morty."

"It's me."

"Edward?"

No no no. I don't want to rehash his broken heart. Please not this.

"Go away. Come back tomorrow."

I thought I had locked the door. I was wrong.

The handle turned, the door opened, and Ed stepped inside.

I rose to a sitting position.

"Ed?" I whispered.


Present Day

"Why would you ask that?" I cried.

Morty continued to hold me in his gaze. I couldn't bear it. I dropped my eyes.

"I need to know."

"Nothing happened."

"Jasmine, for once, for once, please be honest with me. It's more important to me than you could possibly imagine."

"How can I… I don't want…" I stuttered about.

"Did Ed rape you?" he asked again.

I was silent. I sunk into the water further.

Morty backed off a little, settling himself into a crouch before me.

"I can understand if you're reluctant to tell me. So I'll go first. I'll tell you what really happened that night."