Part 3 – One Good Turn

A short while later, the kids were seated on the snow-white bench stationed on Crumbelina's wide fourth floor balcony. At ground level, one could easily tell that her mansion stood so tall, but from way up here, Gloyd was amazed at the view that it offered. He could see practically all of Racers' Ave. from this one spot alone. He relaxed comfortably as the soft breeze puffed lazily at his dark brown hair; his pumpkin hat was still inside. Lounging on one side of the comfy bench, Crumbelina playing away on her violin on the other, and the refilled bowl of biscotti along with a platter of rich cannoli occupying the little table in front of them, Gloyd could not help but think one thing: This has got to be what living like a king is like.

As fun as this was to relax and enjoy a new form of live entertainment that was not watching characters falling for his pranks and traps, Gloyd felt a most peculiar feeling in his chest. No one had ever showed him this sort of kindness before, besides his parents when they had first adopted the crew of wild kids and dealt with their chaotic behaviours and rebellious attitudes. He could still remember deliberately knocking over his glass of milk at dinnertime just to annoy Fix-It Felix and watch him easily clean up the mess with his hammer. Even then, Felix and Calhoun had put up with the feral 10 and displayed nothing short of love and compassion for them all. And now, Crumbelina was showing him a very similar treatment as she shared her food, bench, and her music with him. This had all been very new to Gloyd, and it still was. He was used to others yelling at him and hurling death threats for hoodwinking them with tricks and practical jokes. He didn't quite understand this, but he did know one thing: for the first time in so long, he felt happy.

He spoke up only after Crumbelina had lowered her violin to take a break for a while. "I've never heard anyone else mention that you played violin before. Or am I just deaf?"

That was a likely case, since he wasn't very good at paying attention to what anyone else did, not that he had really cared. He was expecting Crumbelina to confirm this, so he was surprised when she shook her head.

"No, you're not deaf. Snowanna's really the only one who knows this…and now you, I suppose. I haven't really told anyone else. I just…don't feel like it," she said lamely.

"How come?" he asked, confused. "You're awesome at it! I think everyone should know."

She looked at him, her eyes twinkling. "You really think so?"

"Sure! I mean, I like it. I think they'll all love it!"

Crumbelina smiled at him. "Maybe."

Following this friendly exchange, the pair sat there quietly and content, sitting out on Crumbelina's balcony as they admired the beauty of Sugar Rush's new night mode. Seeing the world that they had lived in all their coded lives for over 20 years in this new nighttime environment was nothing short of surreal to their youthful eyes. At night, there seemed to be a magic surrounding the atmosphere that could only be unlocked when all was dark and quiet. The lights of their friends' houses and the nearby village down the road sparkled like a sea of gold cornpuff nuggets laden upon the terrain of glazed icing and chocolate mousse. The newly-installed candy cane lampposts had just turned on, illuminating the sugar dusting the whole street like a glittery trail straight out of a fantasy storybook. The colourful Starburst stars twinkled brightly alongside the grand marshmallow moon that cast its brilliant light upon the world below. The game developers who had recently bought Sugar Rush had really done some fine work with this upgrade; the attention to detail was truly impressive. Unlike Fix-It Felix Jr., whose gameplay was primarily set in one angle, and thus featured a wide window in the middle of the black 8-bit sky for the players to look through, Sugar Rush's world was not disrupted by such a large gaping hole, for much like Hero's Duty, the gameplay operated via a first-person view thanks to the marshmallow techs' numerous video cameras as they filmed every race, both for the replay booths and the players' driving interaction.

"Crumbelina?"

"Hm?"

Gloyd swallowed, but he really needed to know this. He tried his hardest to be polite as possible with the words he chose. "This is really great, and your music is really, really nice. But I'm…confused. How come you're being so nice to me? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love all of this, but a short while ago, you looked like you wanted to punch the jellybeans out of me. Now it's almost like you're giving me the royal treatment."

At this, the girl laughed. "Oh, Gloyd, Gloyd, Gloyd, you hollow pumpkin-head," she said teasingly. "I was only mad at you because your injuries meant I would have met the same fate that you had. So, can you blame me for wanting to give you a good messing? But I could see that you had learned your lesson and decided that you had suffered enough. So, I forgave you. It's in the past now, right?"

Gloyd looked at her, feeling rather astonished by her ability to let this go so easily, yet immensely relieved that she possessed it. "Right."

She smirked as she twisted a biscotti between her little fingers. "And as for why I'm being so nice to you now…well, I think everyone deserves some kindness. Even if they've never been kind to you before. It's a little secret I've always known, but it's a whole 'nother thing to feel it for real."

This made Gloyd feel better, but also a little bit sad again. He wasn't exactly known around Sugar Rush for his kindness. He was broken out of his thoughts when Crumbelina asked him something new.

"Do you remember when Mom and Dad first adopted us?"

"Um, yeah?"

"That was some of the greatest kindness anyone had ever shown me," Crumbelina explained. "When we lost Sugar Rush, I was devasted. I didn't know where we would go or what we were going to do."

Gloyd remembered that day well. He too had entered a mighty panic state when it hit him full force how he and all his friends had lost everything so quickly. He remembered seeing Crumbelina's face as Wynnchel and Duncan hugged each other, bawling their donut eyes out behind their thick shades that they were now homeless; she had certainly looked frightened, though admittedly had not been going completely berserk as everyone else had been doing. She must have been pretty shaken on the inside however, he realized, since she owned the most possessions out of all the citizens besides Vanellope and subsequently had the most to lose. She had lost her kart, her mansion, her hot tub, all these fancy snacks and gold coins, and her violin. No wonder she had looked so distressed.

As if she were reading his mind, Crumbelina continued. "It hurt to lose our game, but it hurt even more that nobody in the arcade wanted us. You know, for a few brief moments, I felt like Vanellope when we treated her like dirt during Turbo's reign. She was alone with nowhere to go and nobody wanted her either. I felt just like that. And it hurt so much."

Gloyd gulped as painful memories of how he had treated their former president began creeping back to him. They weren't easy to return to, even if the whole mess hadn't entirely been his fault. But he was still responsible for the deliberate pranks and insults he had inflicted upon poor Vanellope whenever he had happened to cross her path.

"But then," she went on, "Mr. Felix and Mrs. Calhoun offered to adopt us. I felt…well, I felt something different that day. I felt loved. And safe. No one had ever given me so much kindness in one night. Even after I literally climbed their window curtain with Dad's hammer, he was still so patient and nice to me. And even though we destroyed their apartment, Mom never once hit us or point her gun at our faces like I feared she might. They treated us like we were their own. I've never really been able to shake off this feeling I have whenever I'm around them, and I definitely never want to. They've certainly taught me a thing or two in the brief time we were living with them."

Crumbelina gazed off towards the direction leading to Game Central Station before removing her cap. Gloyd couldn't help but stare as she did this; he had never seen her without it. It gave him a rare chance to see her without any headgear and she looked…different. Her hairstyle was rather pretty, if he was really being honest with himself. Her deep brown hair seemed to give off a gentle shine in the marshmallow moonlight with a light golden streak that became more pronounced at the two little cinnamon hair buns she wore on each side of her head. When she turned to look at him, he quickly averted his eyes.

"So you see, Gloyd…everyone deserves kindness and compassion. No matter who they are or how much they act like a complete idiot, we all need it," she finished grandly.

At last, he looked back at her. All the hate and loathing that had filled her eyes earlier were nonexistent, instead replaced by a look that was warm and inviting, one that radiated peace and tranquility. To top it off, she was smiling softly at him. No one had ever given him this sort of look before. Certainly not Crumbelina. He liked it.

"Wow. Now I see why everyone likes you," he said truthfully. "I though love and kindness were Jubileena's expertise. But it sounds like you got it all worked out. No one's really showed me that kind of stuff…until today."

There was a brief moment of silence as they just looked at each other. Then the girl smirked. "Well, your famous pranks don't exactly do much to enhance your relationships, Mr. Hallow-scheme," she said as-a-matter-of-factly. "I'm sure if you give the other girls a break every once in a while, they'd be a lot more open to reaching out to you. A little kindness goes a long way."

Gloyd wasn't so sure it was that easy for him. He had been programmed to live as a juvenile trickster, how was he supposed to change that? It was stated in his official bio and thus vibrated the very fibre in his code every day. He broke his gaze to fix it upon a random chocolate truffle in the distance. "Man, being rich just does everything for you doesn't it? A huge house, all the kart parts you need, and the secret to getting everyone to like you."

Crumbelina snorted. "For your information, Colonel Kernel, there are lots of things that money can't buy. Good friends who stick by your side for one."

He eyed her nonchalantly. "Anything else?"

"Respect, Gloyd. A sense of loyalty. Trust. World peace and harmony. Players."

For some reason in the back of his mind, that last item on the list perked his attention. Though he could be quite unobservant of these kinds of things, for the briefest moment, Gloyd thought he heard it: there was a slight wavering in Crumbelina's voice, uneasiness almost. And for a girl as confident and so sure of life as she was, that was unusual. Gloyd cut her off. "Wait, what was that last one?"

She suddenly stopped. "Nothing," she said quickly, realizing she had let it slip.

"No, hang on, you said 'players'…and sounded different when you said that. What'd you mean by that?"

Crumbelina stared at him and then looked away with a frown. She had kept this as her secret for a long time now, was she really going to reveal it? And to Gloyd of all people? She looked back at the boy. Yes, he was rebellious, rogue, and downright troublesome, but all through the night while he had been with her, she couldn't help but sense something different about him, as if seeing him in a new light for the first time.

A certain light that radiated a glow of trust.

"I'll tell you, Gloyd, but only if you promise not to tell anyone else. Do you promise?"

Gloyd blinked in surprise. "Y-yeah, of course," he said, caught a tad off guard by the anxiety present in her voice. He even crossed his fingers across his heart, in hopes of letting her know that he wasn't going to listen to her just because he had stumbled upon a secret, but because he was genuinely worried that something was bothering her.

She sighed and shuffled her body to face him better on the bench. Truth be told, she wasn't quite sure where to start. It had always been nagging the back of her mind that she would one day confide her deepest feelings with her close girl friends, but had never planned its execution out entirely. Yet, here she was, about to reveal her secret to not her closest gal pals, but to Gloyd. It became clear that she was just going to have to grip it and rip it.

"All right then," she started slowly, hesitation sprinkled in her Italian-accented voice, a particular combination that Gloyd instantly felt did not suit her. "Well…I haven't exactly been picked by a gamer to be their avatar to race with for the last four months."

The boy stared at her. "Four months? You're joking."

She shook her head. "No joke, joke-master. The kids in the arcade…they like pretty colours and candy that they're familiar with. Rarely do any of them know what my sweets are supposed to be. They just don't think me or even my kart are as good-looking as the rest of you."

Gloyd was very taken aback. He had lost count how many times that he himself had been chosen by the players in just today, but it had to have been at least a dozen times. And every time, he hadn't noticed who had not been picked. He eyed Crumbelina and although he wasn't nearly as good at seeing or sensing these kinds of things as she was, he could see as plain as the moonlight how very sad she now looked.

"I…I'm sorry to hear that, Crumbelina," he said genuinely, now feeling guilty for bringing this up. "I didn't know."

She looked over at him. "I don't expect you to," she mumbled softly, her voice sounding very broken.

"But…what about Rancis?" he asked. "His colours are mostly brown and yellow. He's not like Swizzle or Candlehead…and his kart is even less colourful."

"Yes, but the difference with Rancis is that the players recognize and love his peanut butter cups and chocolate," she explained. "He may not be dressed with flashy colours, but he still works with candy that the public knows and loves. I have neither."

Crumbelina sighed deeply. "I don't tell anyone this, but I can't help but feel…rejected when I don't get chosen to be raced with. I suppose if anyone's to blame, it would be the game developers. I'm programmed this way, so I am who I am. It didn't use to bother me so much…until one day, a couple of teenagers arrived to the arcade and payed their quarters into our console. When they were ready to choose a racer, my picture was in the centre of the 9-panel selection roster. And do you know what they said when they landed the selector on me?"

The boy was suddenly afraid to hear the answer. "What?" he asked tentatively.

With the memory gripping her candy heart painfully, Crumbelina shut her eyes. "They said, 'Not her, she looks lame. Pick a cooler racer'."

Shock and disbelief stabbed Gloyd Orangeboar in the chest as he stared at the poor girl. He had heard many things in his two-decade long life as a prankster, ranging from angry fires of name-calling and rude insults, to the occasional death threats, all coming from his most-recent victims. He had been coded with tough skin and could tolerate the verbal ammunition without any problems. But this? This was a whole new level entirely. And not a very nice one. "Oh, that…that's just mean," he breathed.

Crumbelina finally opened her eyes, keeping her gaze down upon her boots. "It was," she whispered. "And it hurt. After that…I began to feel like something was wrong with me. I felt there had to be a reason that the players didn't like me...but I've never been able to find a way to fix the problem."

"Did you happen to notice that my music has been sad sounding only?" she asked him glumly, still keeping her gaze low and not waiting for an answer. "It's always been like that, Gloyd. Every night, when I come out here to this balcony to play my violin, I can only create sad music. It's my own way of releasing this pain inside me that only grows bigger every day that passes when I'm not chosen to race."

She tilted her head up to look out to the sugary world beyond her mansion once more. "But I don't want the others to know. This is such a silly thing to sulk over, I don't want them to worry about it for my sake. But I can't help but let it get to me. And now you know," she sighed without looking at him.

There was silence as Crumbelina stared out to Sugar Rush's massive environment. Gloyd however, kept his eyes locked on her. She wasn't crying, though he felt she had every right to. Even if he hadn't come to admire her like the way he secretly always had, her story of pain and depression still would have broken his heart. He had to do something to tell Crumbelina that this wasn't true.

Crumbelina heard Gloyd sliding closer to her and stiffened when she felt his hand touch her shoulder. Gloyd's touch was light, yet warm.

"For the record, …I think you're a really great racer."

She finally turned her head to face him directly. "That doesn't seem to matter to the players," she muttered dismissively.

"But it's still true," he insisted, trying his best to be gentle in his tone. Being compassionate wasn't exactly his specialty, but he had to try. "You're not just super fast on the track, you're one of the smartest and skilled racers out there. Taffyta is a racing demon, and Swizzle treats the track like it's his baby that needs grooming, but you've got your own style in securing your placement on the leaderboard."

Crumbelina looked at him, straightening up slightly. She said nothing, so Gloyd took this as a sign to keep talking.

"So many times, I end up behind you during our races. And I watch the way you dodge those gumballs in Gumball Gorge…you make it look so easy that it's like child's play to you! And you always seem to know when and how to get the best of us when you grab power-ups. Most of us use them as quickly as possible, but I don't think anyone else on the track waits before firing their Sweet Seekers. The way you time your attacks and dodge ones heading for you is just…amazing!"

Crumbelina was eyeing him now, slightly impressed by the boy's observation skills, especially during a blood-pumping, adrenaline-rushing race. And of her.

"Honestly, Crumbelina? I think if we have fun on the racetrack, it doesn't really matter if a player chooses us," he continued. "We still get to race in all the races, player or no player. That's why we're here, right? Plus, those jerks in the arcade have got to be the biggest dumb-drops if they think you're lame. 'Cuz you're anything but! You're an awesome racer and you've got one of the best core abilities in your programming among the rest of us! I mean, come on, 'highest attack-strength for power-ups'? Why would any player with half a brainnot want that special power during a race? I'd kill to have it embedded in my code for just a day! All I can do is increase the players' protection against Sweet Seekers and Ice Cream Cannons. My core ability is nothing compared to yours."

"Don't say that, Gloyd," she finally responded. "Everyone's core ability is equally useful. But most of the players don't pay attention to our bios and our special powers when they go to select a racer. What they see is more attractive than what they read. They want the most colourful racer or the one with the coolest kart. One time, a kid picked Minty all because he liked her dance animation that we do when we get selected."

Gloyd pondered this through before speaking again. "But…even if that's true, you're still one of us, Crumbelina. You're still one of Sugar Rush's ten racers. You may not be the top or most memorable one, but who says you have to be? You're still an important key factor in our game. Our races wouldn't be complete without all the racers racing together. I guess what I'm trying to tell you is…we need you. Y-you know how Candlehead's bio says that Sugar Rush and its races wouldn't be complete without her?"

"Yes?" she said, saying her answer more as a question; she was interested in where this was going.

"Well, I think that goes the same for all of us," Gloyd tried to explain. "And that includes you. Without you, we'd have one less opponent to race against. The whole game would be less challenging if the leaderboard was one racer short. The players crave the #1 spot the most if they knew that they beat nine other racers to get there."

Crumbelina was looking at him directly now, a sparkle gleaming in her eye as her lips slowly curved into a tiny smile. Gloyd's words were strange, yet were having an equally strange effect on her. He was fumbling with his jacket collar and she could tell he was trying his best to choose his words carefully, but the end result was a heartfelt speech with a certain truth embedded within. There was honesty present in his voice, weaved in a gentle tone that she would never have associated him to be connected with before.

Upon seeing her brightening up, Gloyd released his own crooked smile. "I know you have to dress to represent your candy theme and all that. You can't change that, none of us can. And this is gonna sound so cheesy and I'm no good at talking about this kind of stuff, but…looks don't matter. It's what you do that counts. And you do so much for this game, Crumbelina. And if what I'm trying to tell you doesn't make any sense to you, there's one thing you gotta know…"

Crumbelina gazed at him. "What's that?" she asked, her heart starting to beat faster.

"There's nothing wrong with you," stated Gloyd with growing strength enforcing his voice, as if he were stating a true fact, which of course he was. He knew that. "And if those jerks in the arcade don't see that, then that's their problem! You're perfect just the way you are!" His mouth began speaking a mile a minute, as if these were the words just waiting to spill on out. "I mean look at you…you're totally cool! And awesome! Your whole body gives off this metallic shine that makes you look like a freshly polished peppermint made of solid gold and those little buns in your hair have such a nice sparkle to them. The way you always skip from your kart to the podium before every race is like you're bouncing on air…your dance animation that you perform on screen when you win a race and the way you fold your arms with your 'all-business' look is just so perfect, not to mention that you're beautiful and so nice to look at…"

His brain suddenly caught up to his tongue a split second before he realized exactly what he was just blurted out to the girl sitting next to him. "Uh…did I just say that?" he asked in a stupid voice.

Crumbelina DiCaramello wasn't looking sad anymore. Instead, she wore a mesmerized smile that was a mixture of surprise and amusement. "I think you did," she answered quietly, her heart beat racing faster than her Tira-Missile.

"Oh fudge."

Blushing like mad, Gloyd covered the side of his face in embarrassment as he looked anywhere but at the girl, feeling positively foolish and flustered as he tried unsuccessfully to hide himself. "Sorry, sorry, sorry…I don't know why I said all that…I mean, I meant to say it, but…I mean…oh sugar…"

Crumbelina wasn't exactly sure why she found his blushing or his blubbering completely adorable, but she did. Luckily, she decided to spare him the trouble. "Okay, okay, I get it," she grinned as she gently touched his arm. "That…that's really sweet of you to say that, Gloyd. I don't think anyone's said that about me before."

"Well, it's true," he muttered, his face sporting an even deeper shade of crimson. "I wouldn't say it if it wasn't."

Now it was her turn to blush. Her hand absent-mindedly rose to her lips bashfully as the words Gloyd had just spitballed slowly melted into the fabric of her mind. "So, you really think I'm beautiful, huh?"

There was no way the red in his cheeks could intensify by this point. Yet somehow it did. "Um…ye-yeah," he mumbled.

There was an awkward silence that followed after that as neither kid said anything more. Then Gloyd felt Crumbelina tap him on the shoulder, prompting him to turn back and meet her soft, almost mystified gaze. "Well, thank you, Gloyd. You're very kind. What you said really means a lot to me. Really, it does. And…I feel better. I do have fun on the racetrack, whether I'm being controlled by a player or not. And I love being a part of Sugar Rush. Maybe I don't have to be chosen every day to know that I'm important to our game…even if it has been four months…"

Despite his current position, her wavering voice somehow helped Gloyd to gain some confidence back in order to help her regain all of hers. "Listen, even if you don't get picked for four more months, you're still important to the gameplay no matter what. Sugar Rush is where we belong and we just need to be there for the players when they need us. That's why we were created, right?"

She smiled warmly at him, a light blush still cascading her cheeks. "Right."

Silence fell again as they just looked at each other, light blushes still very present on both their faces. That completely improvised speech had wiped a lot out from Gloyd's mind, particularly that last part which had come out of nowhere, but he had spoken the truth without clever wit or sarcasm at any point. Most unusual for him. The weird thing was that he had meant every word of what he had told Crumbelina, including the part where he had said that she was beautiful.

He gulped as it hit him again that she now knew what he thought of her. He also noticed now how close they were sitting next to each other, with only a few inches of separation. He let out a low whistle and clicked his tongue before turning his gaze back out to Racers' Ave. In the distance, his eyes landed on a tall blue popsicle tower house sprinkled with liberal mounds of white icing sugar. How interesting.

"Hoo boy, um…get a load of Adorabeezle's house, huh? Looks like a snowstorm blew over it and left the rest of the street alone."

Crumbelina giggled at his obvious attempt to change the subject. She decided to play along. "Oh, well if I know one thing about Dora, it's that she loves her snow and wintery scenes. If she can't live up in the Ice Cream Glaciers near Soft Serve Speedway, she'll just have to decorate her place to make it feel like she's up there."

"I was thinking of getting her next," Gloyd said with a roguish grin. "What do you think? Swap her decorative icing powder for salt?"

This suggestion earned him a whack at the head from Crumbelina's cap. "Don't you dare, Pumpkin Pie," she scolded, though she was smirking and her tone was light.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Caramello, is that not reminiscent enough for master prankster Gloyd Orangeboar?" he sneered. "Fine…just for you, I'll go with the flour."

Crumbelina whacked him again, and then laughed. It was a very cute sort of laughter to Gloyd's ears, distinctly lady-like, yet full of childish youth. He also couldn't help but chuckle too.

"Seriously though Gloyd," she said once recovering. "I'd give Adorabeezle a break if I were you. You already stuffed jelly into her kart this morning and I heard that she wasn't too happy about it."

Gloyd nodded. "Yeah, okay," he agreed. Every once in a while, even he could tell when enough was enough.

The talking died shortly after that, and they resumed quietly sitting and looking out to the balcony's view. Every so often though, Crumbelina would slip a subtle side-glance over at Gloyd with a small growing smile on her face. Her mind was doing some deep thinking on all that he had said to her, and while his words had provided comfort and assurance to her problems, there was something even bigger that she was slowly coming to terms with. To her, it almost felt like she was meeting Gloyd for the first time. And she liked what she was seeing, enough to the point that she was growing rather fond of him.

It also made sense why he had been so good at observing her.