39. A Wish
He had awakened from nowhere on a cold December morning.
His memory had been blank for days, he had wandered for miles aimlessly, without direction.
The people who had passed him on the street had nodded to him, as if he were one of them.
He had been a traveller, incomplete, until his memory returned.
Then, he had screamed. He had tortured his hair, scratched his skin with his hands while he screamed.
Two again, his hands.
Like a spider he had climbed to the ruins of his stronghold, where the wind blew cold at any hour, in any season.
He had howled again in front of the ruins.
Pieces of frozen rock, remains of the floor, the rusted carcass of the heavy metal doors.
Breathing frenzied anger, he had descended into the hidden chambers of his basement: his feet had stepped on more shards of glass and metal sheets.
Nothing had grown there anymore.
Instead of screaming and yelling, he had imploded.
An abject man remains an abject man: anger and frustration had awakened in him impulsive and violent needs to vent. He had re-emerged into the world and roamed the region; he had raped a couple of human women and in killing them with his hands, when the deed was done, the last moments of his old life had invaded his wretched heart, which had been as dry as a raisin for longer than he could remember.
He remembered the growing feeling of anguish that had pervaded him since before he pressed that button, the sense of victory he had felt for a moment.
And then, not feeling his legs anymore.
He had remembered his own gaze fixed on the ceiling of his fortress, on those who gawked at him from beyond the threshold with an incredulous, perhaps almost compassionate look.
He had nothing left before he died, just one last thought of comfort: that his killer would soon regret being born, suffering a fate excruciating to even watch.
Worse than death, from his point of view.
He was back in that dark basement, a dungeon. He had walked on those shards of glass, he had caressed the remains of the computers.
Loneliness had been his friend.
Without understanding how, he had learned that they were alive. And that all the others had returned. He remembered that he could fly, among other things. Seeking the dragon balls had stolen a week of his time, he had gone blind.
When he had first seen the dragon, the wish had been easy to utter.
He wanted the fruit of years of work back. And a space to work in.
And why not, even a tracking device: to find both one of his weapons, the only ally he had ever had, and his double target.
/
The most awaited moment of the year had almost come, Eighteen's wedding would take place in two days.
The bridesmaids were buzzing, the group chat making cell phones vibrate several times a minute.
In those months they had divided their duties: Sara, the maid of honour, was in charge of the hens do, Bulma and Carly had divided other tasks.
Girls, today I'm going to collect the favours for the guests. In the end, do you want the stole to match Eighteen's dress, or bouquet?
Dr. Briefs had waited to buy a stole for all three, as they had not yet agreed.
Eighteen had revealed that the centrepiece of her silken bouquet would be burgundy and blush roses.
The bridesmaids were all three of light phenotype (including Sara, although the Lazulian shade of her locks was the result of savvy bleaching), they didn't want to look like giant candy.
They had not chosen the same dress, but had tried to coordinate with the colour: the choice had fallen on the medium-dark tones of turquoise and malachite green.
Eighteen had approved the choice.
Carly's attire was a knee-length dress that winked at the 1950s, she hadn't had to look for another one: the wide and structured skirt, made with stiff fabric, would have hidden her five-month bump.
But why do we call her "Eighteen"? I haven't figured it out yet.
-I know!- Lillian laughed, reading Sara's message. She was lying prone on the bed where Carly was arranging four pretty purses. Her idea was to create emergency kits for the bride and the three of them.
Lillian watched her distribute the contents of several baskets: tissues, toiletries, sunscreen, paracetamol, waterproof mascara, wipes, condoms, peppermint gum.
Carly had arranged everything in a super organised way, she thought of every detail.
-I already see you as a supermum who has it all figured out.-
- 'Super' I don't think so,- Carly didn't even look at Lillian, as busy as a bee as she was.
-What is this?- The ranger took some sort of tape from a basket.
-Booby tape.-
Lillian hadn't the faintest idea.
Sara may not know the real secrets, but she knew about the pregnancy; it happened that she crossed paths with Lapis at the Central City hospital, but Carly could count on her, they agreed it was better that Lazuli didn't know on her big day.
Lazuli had just started to warm up to her...
The pregnancy was going smoothly, Carly was always at -3 kg, something she had never expected: she didn't know whether to consider it as negative. The doctor who had supervised her blood work had told her to come back and discuss it; even if she wasn't incubating chickenpox.
Lapis would go with her at 5pm that day.
-Can you believe it? He told me I had chickenpox long ago, but asymptomatically.-
Carly was amazed and relieved by that result. She knelt in front of an open suitcase and began folding Lapis's suit.
-Matching his car,- Lillian grabbed the jacket, wondering if it was on purpose; the suit was ultramarine blue, a hue that flattered Seventeen's high contrasts. Ultramarine was just another name for lapis lazuli.
-I am obviously aware of that. Suitcases almost done,- Carly lay back on the bed, with a big sigh of satisfaction.
Tomorrow was going to be a long, exhausting day.
Just after returning from Central City, Carly had to ask Lapis to change their plans.
-Can't we go by plane? At least for part of the trip, I don't feel like going by car all the way.-
It was since last winter that they had planned to drive to Satan City.
-You can sleep, no trouble. Because I'll do the driving.-
They had managed not to fight for two days…
-Let me tell you in a way you can understand: the doctor says it's not safe for me to go through such a long drive.-
-Do you think I'm the type to waste time, behind the wheel?-
It was like talking to the wall.
Seventeen had suspected that he was rude when Carly hadn't even protested. She had just sunk into the bed, perhaps wishing she could fall asleep and wake up when he stopped acting like an immature child.
Seventeen had hastily looked for tickets from North City to Satan City, but for the weekend it was all sold out, even first class: Satan City was the spot from which people took the ferry to the sprawling Southern Archipelago.
He went to see Carly's with two printed sheets of paper.
-At the last moment you want to book the plane ... we're still going by car, but only as far as Central City.-
Carly had taken the tickets in her hands, without reading.
-Highwick?-
-No, Berkhamstead.-
The furthest airport…
Lillian watched Carly curl her lip, and she almost regretted being in such a good mood.
-While you and Sev are at the wedding, I will go with Bren to one of his events. And to dinner at Ulf and Annelin's.-
-Do you already call the Geirssons by name?- Carly seemed to find her vitality again, she was elated for Lillian.
-Well, I've always called them so. Besides, me and Brent ... for a while, now.-
As always, Carly was delighted to hear about the love adventures of her sister-from-different-parents.
-I had never seen Brent with his hair down before,- Lillian herself didn't understand why he didn't get a headache. -It's super long! For a guy, I mean, not like yours.-
Whenever they galloped together all the way to Valhalla, the Viking would let down his hair for her.
-It's hot stuff, isn't it?- Carly winked.
Lillian didn't know why she had waited so long, -Brent is amazing, he treats me like a queen. Seems he loves giving me pleasure even more than receiving, it's the first time this happens to me.-
-Well, Lillian,- Carly stroked her arm, turning to look out the window. -It is right that this honour, being the pioneer, belongs solely to Brent.-
There were a few seconds of silence before Lillian began to tell again.
Carly started jumping for joy and hugging her.
-How come you can do this?-
-Why? I have legs.-
Lillian didn't know anything about it but she thought a pregnant lady couldn't jump like that. Evidently that wasn't the case with Carly; she suddenly wanted to touch her belly.
-Please please please please!-
Carly disliked having her belly touched but since Lapis was so parsimonious, it didn't bother her if it was her best friend doing it. The belly had doubled in size, although it didn't get in the way yet: Carly thought it looked like a small balloon tucked underneath her boobs.
-I can't sleep on it anymore,- Carly sighed, thinking of all the time she spent finding a comfortable sleeping position; all that tossing and turning got on Lapis's nerves, he had stopped pretending to sleep next to her.
-What are you doing to your mummy, little Sev or little Carly,- Lillian smiled almost to tears, hoping to have some response from in there. She had never thought about it, but how cool was it to have a pregnant bestie?
Lillian didn't think she would ever want to be pregnant herself, but seeing it on Carly was something new and curious.
She looked questioningly at her, remembering an important detail.
-Aren't you afraid the baby can be like Seventeen?-
-Gorgeous?-
No, that didn't worry her.
-A bit of a terminator. Like when it kicks it breaks your ribs, I'm worrying for you.-
-I don't think that's possible.-
Luckily for Carly, Lapis's modifications were his alone, not an inheritable trait.
Most likely.
/
Two days.
That was all the time that separated her from that day she had planned since her first wedding-elopement.
This second ceremony was making her even more nervous, perhaps because anyone who mattered in her life would be there.
It was emotional anxiety, it crushed her heart, but Eighteen rejoiced in feeling it. It meant that she was making the right choice, that she was happy with her life.
Krillin sat beside her on a loose stone in that magnificent ruined abbey. The sack in his hands seemed to weigh, it contained a good part of their ceremony.
-We were lucky to get the refund. With the catering, the decoration and the pavilion guys,- the cyborg girl smiled, trying to soothe her own tension. She sat down next to Krillin.
The beach pavilion had been their plan, until they saw the abbey ruins on the cliff.
The warrior looked up at the gutted vault, at the glassless rose window.
-In two days, imagine this place …-
It would be perfect. The contents of the sack jingled with a sound of bowling balls, -Whenever you're ready, love.-
Like the first time, Eighteen was amazed by the size and the presence of the dragon Shenron; his aura was perceptible to her too, a supernatural essence.
The dragon balls shone at the couple's feet.
-May I?- Eighteen turned to Krillin with her usual cat-like glance, but the glow that studded it betrayed how she really felt.
When she brought Bruno back to life she had been afraid to make the wish to Shenron, but this time she would be going downhill.
/
The doctor rearranged the papers on his desk and seated the young couple in his office, -Carly, you don't have chickenpox. But there's a small iron deficiency to fix, so I'll give you some supplements.-
A deficiency? Carly felt guilty. Was Lapis's creature in danger from her oversights?
Carly forced herself not to cry, -But how ... I always try to eat well, I'm taking vitamins.-
It was relatively normal, the doctor reassured her. The problem was when it degenerated into anaemia.
-The volume of your blood has increased, as it normally does with the formation of the placenta, causing a lower concentration of haemoglobin. It happens. It's not your fault and it's unlikely to harm the foetus.-
"What about her?"
Seventeen suddenly felt claustrophobic in that office. He could see how pale Carly was, he could feel the hurried pounding of her heart.
At that moment he had the insidious fear that his child was like him, and washurting her. Although, in all likelihood, it was a regular human being.
Like Marron, daughter of Eighteen.
Seventeen mulled over the doctor's words, he needed to calm down.
Carly really wanted to hold his hand. -So it's not serious?-
-No, it's not anaemia. I'll prescribe vitamin B12 and C supplements, they'll help with iron absorption. Come back for a blood test at the twentieth week, in a month.-
The doctor rose to escort Miss Der Veer and the father of the baby to the door; he smiled benevolently, sensing the latter's stress.
-You'll see, little mama will recover with a few simple measures: make sure she drinks a nice glass of orange juice every morning, please.-
/
Krillin and Eighteen had already settled in the hotel in Satan City. All their clothes and belongings had been carefully arranged in their suite. With Shenron's intervention there wasn't much to do now.
On the night before the wedding, Eighteen had not stayed in bed with Krillin.
She walked silently on the dark parquet, casting shy glances at her peplum, hanging on top of a closet in the room adjacent to the bedroom: the room where Eighteen would get ready with her bridesmaids, in which she would ask a burning question to someone important.
She had remembered very late that she needed someone to walk down the aisle arm in arm with her.
It occurred to her that she could not do like Sara, nor like the other girls in her entourage.
But she wanted to walk with someone special. The choice had been natural, immediate.
Eighteen was eager to communicate it to the designated person.
/
Seventeen and Carly had left Verny before sunrise. He had taken the doctor's words very seriously and hadn't let Carly leave without drinking half a litre of fresh orange squash, with her new medicines; he had almost forced her and she had ended up not wanting any other breakfast.
Seventeen didn't want to fight over that, he just wanted to think about enjoying the ride: considering his use of the accelerator, they would be at the Centre in eight hours.
They had just passed North City when Seventeen had to put up with Carly's complaints.
-Please, will you stop at the next motorway restaurant?-
They had to be in Berkhamstead by noon so that they had time to check-in with calm. If all went as planned, they would be at the hotel in Satan City around 6pm.
Carly had been excited and honoured when she had agreed to be a bridesmaid, but now it hurt to think of that already long day. Once in Satan City she would have to drag herself to the hens do, it was only 7.30, she had been awake since 4, and only after midnight could she have allowed herself a little rest. She wasn't even sure that such hectic days and the Z4 speeding at 180 km/h on the motorway were safe for her health. Take the jeep, she had told him, it's safer for long trips.
What do you know about cars, he had growled.
However, what made her feel worse was the silent treatment that Lapis was still giving her.
She had told him she had to pee but he had kept driving, in response he had handed her an empty bottle.
-Seriously, are you kidding me?-
Carly stopped laughing when she realised that Lapis had no intention of making pit stops.
Seventeen turned on the radio, as he couldn't get Carly to shut up.
He didn't know if he minded keeping her on her toes like that or if he had ended up not bearing with her requests, but when they reached Ginger Town he finally stopped at a motorway restaurant.
-Do what you got to do, and come back immediately.-
He braked, turned off the engine and sat waiting while Carly got out of the car, counting change from her wallet.
-Stop acting like this! I already apologised, if you continue it is out of pure sadism.-
Ridden with tears and a nervous stomach ache, Carly slammed the door and walked away.
Half an hour had passed and Seventeen was still roasting in the car. He no doubt wanted to stay angry for who knows how long, but deep in his heart he knew he was worried about her.
Standing in front of the door to the women's bathroom, he heard her cry.
-Carly. Get out of there.-
Hearing Lapis knock, Carly saw in the mirror that her face was tomato-red and puffy-eyed, she had done well not to do any make-up that morning.
She wanted to stay there and cry undisturbed, let off steam as long as she felt like without giving the cyborg the satisfaction of seeing her suffer so much from his arsehole attitude.
-Carly. If you don't come out, I'll get you out.-
Seventeen did not wait. The door was locked but he didn't even notice when he pushed it open.
He found Carly all flushed red, not only her face but also her neck and shoulders. He pragmatically grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her out of the bathroom, they had lost half an hour.
-Not that it's that important, but Eighteen's wedding is at stake.-
Of course, Eighteen was the one that mattered most to him. Carly didn't have the strength to fight and respond in kind, that morning.
-Can you at least let me have something to eat, before we leave? I got nauseous.-
Hunger nausea, a sensation that Gero had erased from Seventeen's body. With those laboured breathing, alabaster complexion and almost fluorescent veins in her neckline, Carly once again gave him that feeling of extreme fragility.
They had set out before dawn, there was still a long way to go and she hadn't eaten anything decent in the past twelve hours.
Seventeen looked at the queue at the counter where food and drinks were sold.
He sighed, -Okay, I'll go get something.-
He took Carly to a bench that was entirely occupied by people chatting and sipping hot coffee.
An elderly man looked up from the newspaper by chance, and saw a young couple standing nearby.
The girl looked pretty, very pale; noticing that she was expecting he immediately offered her his place.
The lad thanked him with a nod and got in line.
If Seventeen felt surprised by that act of civility, he also resented the fact that a random stranger could take better care of his Carly. He grunted in irritation, wishing he could sweep that queue away.
On the bench, the man looked at the girl leaning back; it was obvious that she was not well, even if she said otherwise.
-Do you need help, miss?-
A few tears were still trapped among her blond lashes, the locks of hair on her temples were wet with sweat.
-Oh, it's nothing, just the iron …-
Carly struggled to strike conversation with the kind stranger, who handed her a sachet of sugar.
-Take this, in the meantime. I always bring some in case my sugar runs low.-
Carly smiled politely, tearing the bag and licking the contents.
The elder told her he was traveling to the south coast, he would spend the month of July with his grandchildren.
-You two are pretty young, aren't you?-
-I'm twenty-four, Lapis is twenty-three.-
Carly spoke nonchalantly, squinting in sudden pain in her back; she had used her boyfriend's real name knowing she would never see the man again.
They chatted until Seventeen returned with his arms loaded with bottles of water, croissants stuffed with cheese and ham, and fruit drops.
All three shared breakfast; Carly was glad Lapis had been nice enough to the old man.
Waiting for Carly to regain some colour, the cyborg peacefully listened to chatter he didn't take part in.
A text from Sara made Carly's cell phone vibrate.
Where are you?
Seventeen stood up and held out his hand, unhurriedly. -Shall we?-
Shortly after, the old gentleman accepted more croissants and fruit drops and greeted the young couple; he watched the lad take the future mother away, holding a hand on her back.
A few hours later Seventeen and Carly were walking in the corridors of the airport, separated, between them the same distance kept by many other people walking toward the boarding areas.
They had arrived early as planned.
"Royal Airways welcomes you to Central City Berkhamstead. Local time, 11.55 am."
The speaker rang in Carly's head.
Seventeen dumped the suitcases on the scale and refused any attempt to communicate with the hostess.
His passport was seven years old, dated before the kidnapping; in the photo he was still a basic human, his hair was shorter and he only had one earring.
What about after the passport expired?
It was a serious matter: "What do they call you?" (Seventeen), or "What's your name?" (Lapis).
The cyborg kept thinking about it as he passed through the security area, so poorly guarded and ineffective to really protect planes and passengers from real threats; counting the people he never really lost and the all the things he could do anyway, there weren't many downsides of being #17.
But if there was one thing that had been simpler in the life of Lapis Lang, it was having no doubts about who he was.
/
The guests had almost all arrived at the hotel. Bulma was about to meet a special client, waiting for her near her aircraft with a black armored-looking suitcase.
She watched her come from the front door of the hotel, shook her hand, -Miss Lang.-
-Doctor Briefs.-
With a look, Kate invited Bulma to open the briefcase: she was curious to see what all those zeni had bought her.
The scientist carefully handled the briefcase and the weapon contained within, handing it to her client.
-Here it is; the supercharged pressure technology is normally applied in bulk, especially in our industrial robots, but it was easier than expected. Put your finger here.-
Bulma had designed that gun so that it would not create accidental victims: there was a small screen near the trigger, the scientist invited Kate to scan her fingerprints one by one.
Once the procedure was completed, the weapon would only respond to her.
Kate gazed at her purchase, satisfied but suddenly hesitant, -And is this enough to defend myself from the kind of people you and my kids are used to?-
-Well, it depends on who you are facing. But the water jet that my creation produces cuts rocks like butter. I could have built you an energy gun, but this is faster: unfortunately I don't have yet the right technology to create perpetual reactors.-
Like those of Lapis and Lazuli, mum thought instinctively.
-That's why I chose supercharged water pressure. You'll never have to reload your weapon.-
Bulma showed her an internal panel, -This device absorbs the mist in the air 24/24: on Earth, the gun is permanently loaded.-
Kate had asked Bulma to build her a proper weapon, the experience of Vegeta and the taser had taught her how harmless she was, that regular weapons were not enough.
She didn't expect a water gun, but she had faith in Bulma Briefs. Kate put the gun away and closed the briefcase with a smirk on her lips.
/
The hens do would begin shortly thereafter. Bulma slid the "Bridesmaid" sash over her shoulder and went to meet Sara and Eighteen on the doorstep of the softly lit boudoir where they would be celebrating.
The future bride showed up wearing an outfit Bulma would never forget: large pink letters screamed "BRIDE TO BE" on her white t-shirt, a playful plastic tiara with pink pom poms sat between high pigtails.
All that fluff was somewhere between cute and ironic, in jarring dissonance with the sharp features of the bride to be and her naturally serious stance.
-We're just waiting for Carly, then we're ready to go.- Eighteen proclaimed, playing with a strand of hair as fine and shiny as blown glass.
Sara almost expected Carly not to come; she hadn't texted her back in the last hour, she must be dead tired.
The bride and maid of honour had finally set out into the boudoir, which was not far from the hotel doors: Bulma's attention was caught by a guy holding a supermarket bag, walking past the clique of revellers and deliberately ignoring it. He had the strong, supple physique of the fast fighter, his hair was conventionally long for a man, pure black rather than blond.
-Seventeen?-
With those eyes and facial features, it could only be him. It was the first time Bulma saw him, she was surprised.
Seventeen had never met Bulma either.
-We're waiting for Carly to start with Eighteen's party, can you tell her?-
-She's sleeping. I won't wake her.-
Eighteen and Sara joined them, -What about my sister in law?-
Seventeen took a moment to admire his sister's attire. He tried not to laugh.
-Leave her alone. She's very tired.-
Bulma ventured to make a comment, which she never concluded.
-I said leave her alone.-
The scientist was a little taken aback by Seventeen's cutting tone; she hoped the third bridesmaid was fine.
-What ways, Lapis …- Sara snorted; she was right about Carly.
Seventeen started to run away, but not before snapping a very quick picture of Eighteen. He walked away with a laugh, not listening to what she was yelling at him.
/
The clique had chosen not to have the boudoir all to themselves, there were few of them and it would have been flat, anticlimactic.
However they had reserved a table, the low one surrounded by beautiful sumptuous armchairs.
Bulma sipped through her straw, -It's just me and Trunks, in the end.-
What a saint, Chi-Chi; she had offered to sit Trunks for the evening.
-Vegeta didn't want to come ... I'm sorry, I tried.-
The scientist noticed Sara's questioning look. -My husband. He's been upset with Eighteen since she beat him up. I'll be frank, in that time of his life he was looking for it.-
Lazuli roughing up a man? Sara was increasingly confused.
Eighteensmiled, showing a hint of teeth. -Don't worry. It's not important.-
She grabbed her cosmopolitan and downed it in one gulp. She had done her duty, to send the invitation to Vegeta too; if he didn't want to show up, it was his problem.
-Laz, aren't you still breastfeeding?-
-Sure. I didn't want these to go down before getting into my dress.- Eighteen pushed her chest forward with emphasis.
Bulma shared a theory that had flashed through her head, after seeing Eighteen drink and breastfeed her baby soon after, -She metabolizes alcohol so quickly that it doesn't even get to milk.-
-Laz…-
Should Sara feel less confused?
The buzz in the boudoir subsided as a tuxedo-clad showman took up a small stage, testing the microphone.
Sara sipped her cocktail, hiding a pleased smile.
-Try try try...oh my! This is a special evening,- he raised an arm to the swelling of trumpets, -the beginning of marital life …- more trumpets, -of a special future wife! Eighteen!-
A bull's eye surprised Eighteen with an embarrassed look and her nose dipped in another cocktail glass.
-Hotel Ryz, make some noise! Eighteen is getting married!-
The showman pointed to her with a gallant gesture. Soon the happy mood infected everyone in the boudoir, the people turned to look at the girl in the bull's eye, cheered and whistled.
The party officially started when a vintage-style neon sign lit up on the stage: the word "Congratulations", surmounted by an ironic symbol, the number 18 crossed out.
The music mellowed and a group of handsome, statuesque young men appeared on stage: a fireman, a policeman, and others in uniform.
A uniform that consisted only of skimpy briefs, black leather boots and a headpiece.
The boudoir exploded with whistles from other girls.
Bulma and Sara cheered as the group began to dance.
/
The karaoke started at midnight.
Bulma hadn't taken long to let herself go.
"Sex bomb, sex bomb, you're a sex bomb."
She sang on stage with a random girl, a policeman's arm around her shoulders, beckoning Eighteen to come up there.
Eighteen was dancing discreetly off the stage, the boudoir had almost transformed into a dance floor. Eighteen wanted to go up and join the karaoke, she really wanted to.
She cared about her glacial reputation, but she was still a fun-loving, twenty-three-year old. The crazy partying of her teenage years was a pleasant memory that Gero had stolen from her.
Besides, they had already seen her eat and guzzle cocktails, could she really stoop any lower?
She prepared to take the stage.
-You in the white T-shirt! Eighteeeen!-
A familiar voice reached her ears from the entrance to the boudoir.
A voice singing, old and raspy, embarrassing.
The future bride clearly distinguished Roshi's hunched silhouette, supported by two busty girls. He must have been dead drunk, had he come all the way from the stag night?
-Heyteen, I wanna motorboa…-
Eighteen nodded imperiously to a bouncer, hoping the geezer wouldn't throw up in the boudoir.
-A stripper did body shots out of my belly! Woo!-
Sara shouted over the music, addressing both Lazuli, who was passing by, and the girl lying on the same table as her. The stripper nodded with the latter, and they both looked at Sara. She took a while to understand.
-Ah, I can't. I'm married.-
Mrs. Weiss showed her bejewelled ring finger, and the stripper and the girl took their leave with a wave. Sara looked scarlet red, Eighteen wondered where she would summon the energy to show up at the bridal suite and get ready together, in only five hours.
-Laz, come here you old skank!- Sara pulled her top over her liqueur-dribbling stomach, -Don't you tell my husband, he's gonna bash me for nothin'. I was only having fun. Innocently.-
Eighteen smiled at her best friend. She knew.
-Don't worry, Sara. What happens at the hens do stays in the hens do.-
Her own karaoke performance included.
Hearing the first notes of the song Wannabe, Eighteen dragged Sara to the stage. Mrs. Weiss was too drunk to remember about her singing, anyway.
/
Thoughts of the author:
Tbh I had a blast writing this chapter, I hadn't written about a boozy night in a while.
Info dump: ultramarine is the name of a pigment obtained by grinding lapis lazuli. It is called as such, because in the Middle Ages Italian traders would import it from Afghanistan (so says Wikipedia).
Ultramarine blue really looks like 17's sneakers!
This was a jolly chapter, despite its dark opening. It's not just Eighteen and Krillin, giving the chapter its title!
Otherwise, Lillian fears for Carly, but Carly is right. If the baby was "a bit of a terminator" it would be horrible for her!
