September
There's an underrated art hidden within skipping a class.
A prickle of pain on his left arm. A sizzle on his right. And, to top it off, wilting flowers near his feet.
"Okay, that's it," Boomer mumbled to himself with a wince as another shot of baby blue energy struck his skin.
Sometimes, Boomer could handle Bubbles and her weird bursts of energy. It had gotten easier over the past few months. Whether that was because they were kind-of-sort-of friends or because he was taking the effort to fully understand what she was going through, he wasn't sure. Either way, coexisting in the same space as Bubbles was something that was as simple as breathing. In and out. Boomer and Bubbles.
Today, however, was proving to be a bit more difficult than the last times.
There was a lot going on and it was overwhelming in the worst way possible. This was nothing like he had ever felt before. Usually, her energy came in waves, and he'd be able to rest a little before it came crashing down again. He had never gone through pain as constant as this. It made him want to cry until his lungs gave out.
He liked Bubbles (somewhat), really, he did, but if he cried because of her, he would not be able to stop himself from blasting something to bits, her inevitable anger be damned.
Deep down, Boomer knew what he had to do. As he stared at Bubbles in the back of their Technologies of the World course, watched how she scribbled in her notebook just like almost every other student in the classroom, he came to the conclusion that he'd have to talk with her to see what was wrong. And even though he had done something like this toward the beginning of the year, the thought still terrified him for some reason.
(Being in the same room as Bubbles was already nerve-wracking enough. Any time she walked past him, he could feel his heartbeat in the tips of his fingers. Just the sight of her signature pigtails swishing behind her shoulders sent him in a panic. And her fucking eyes. If they even looked like they were staring in his direction, he felt like his face was on fire.)
Boomer had his counterpart's number saved on his phone for a little over a month now, but they had yet to text each other outside of short, random jokes about their siblings. (Buttercup was funny, but fuck, Bubbles was just as funny. The dirt she had on both of her older siblings was golden.) Those conversations always ended after a few minutes.
He knew that this would be different. It would be more serious. More heartfelt. More real.
Another jolt of pain on his arm. Shit. There was no way he could ignore this.
Boomer's mind zipped to something Blossom said a few months back. Change might do us some good. And, well, yeah. Yeah! She had a point. Maybe some changes were good. It didn't have to be so scary. He just had to do it. He just had to try. He'd be damned if he didn't try.
(Buttercup would be damned, too. He technically did get threatened by her back in summer school. If he didn't feel so inclined to help Bubbles in her time of need, then the toughest Powerpuff would have persuaded him just fine.)
Boomer took a quick sip of his iced vanilla latte, letting the sweetness sit on his tongue before swallowing. The drink had become a bad addiction, but he didn't necessarily beat himself up for it too much. Buttercup was right: Bubbles knew how to make a damn good coffee. If the fashion and art history plan didn't work out, he'd probably recommend that she try being a barista.
Mrs. Hewit was rambling about whatever phone or alternative of a phone was available back in the early 2000s, and everybody else seemed distracted enough to not tattle on him. With as much grace as possible, he pulled his phone out his pocket, slipped it behind his tumbler, and began typing a message to Bubbles:
Boomer: hey
In a flash, the message was deleted. That would have been a dumb text, quite possibly the worst text he could ever send to somebody as important as Bubbles Utonium. He needed something else, something that wasn't ridiculously awkward or forced. He thought for a moment before typing out something else:
Boomer: a little birdy told me ur sad today
Simple, a tad bit lighthearted, and straight to the point. This was better. Definitely more his style. He sent the message, then waited.
And waited.
And waited.
…Okay, maybe Bubbles needed a little assistance. Her phone must be on silent like any responsibly sneaky student. He could wait until the period was over, but that was boring and included waiting. Boomer and patience did not mix well in most cases. This was a part of most cases.
Boomer aimed the tip of his toes in Bubbles' direction, then shot out a quick blast of energy. It zoomed and hit her heels, causing her to jump in shock. He had to slap a hand to his mouth to cover his laugh when she whipped her head around to glare at him. Anger looked absolutely hilarious on her tiny face in moments where she wasn't seriously mad at him.
"Mr. Jojo, care to explain what is so funny right now?"
Shit. Boomer's hand slid back on the table at the sight of Mrs. Hewit's glare and the intrigued stares of everybody else in the class. Thankfully she didn't seem to catch on to Bubbles, who was in the second row of the class. Funny how Mrs. Hewit always focused on him and every other "trouble maker" with complete 25/20 vision, but could ignore anybody else like second nature. Gotta love the biased view of the everyday high school teacher.
"Uh, nothing! Just…" Boomer tried to come up with a good enough lie to get him out of this. Maybe some Brick charm could help. He always said to use some motivation from your true goal in order to knock over as many birds as possible with one stone (whatever the hell that meant). Boomer glanced at Bubbles and suddenly got an idea. "Oh! Ma'am, a question: how exactly does a phone work? Like, what are the specific wirings of a phone to make it do what it does? Is it more complicated to work a phone rather than, like, lighting up this room right now with these dingy lightbulbs?"
There were a few laughs, and Mrs. Hewit looked interested. "Surprisingly a decent question," Mrs. Hewit said. "I'd have to explain the beginnings from our earliest forms of communication in order for this to make sense."
"Perfect," Boomer said with his most charismatic smile. For show, he picked up his pen and held it towards his notebook. He did not plan to write a single note. "Take it away."
Everyone turned back around to face the teacher as she went to ramble about phones. Well, everyone except Bubbles. What was that? she mouthed to him.
Boomer rolled his eyes. After all that hard work, she still did not get it. Check your phone, he mouthed to her slowly.
Oh! Bubbles mouthed back, her eyes brightening in realization. She gave him a thumbs-up, then turned around right before their teacher could spot her.
He watched as she slid her phone in her notebook, shielding it at least from Mrs. Hewit's eyes. Her energy slowly morphed into something similar to how a rotten apple looked, and he grew afraid that she'd ignore him. However, soon enough, she replied to him.
Bubbs: was the bird short, blonde, and cute?
Cute. Cute, cute, cute. She thought he was cute. She always had, ever since they were kids. The more he heard that word come out of her mouth, the more he realized that she was not joking. She was being genuine. She genuinely thought he of all people was cute enough to compliment more than once.
Boomer's hands shook. He had to play it cool. (Just play it cool, Boomer. She's teasing you. All good frenemies tease each other. That's all it is. Tease her back or something.)
Focus! Focus on the task at hand! Not the... whatever this was.
Boomer: y r u describing urself, the bird is supposed to b me dummy
Boomer could hear the tiny giggle escape Bubbles as she read his message. He tried to shove his inflating ego away. He had no reason to feel like that right now.
Bubbs: is it? because you can't claim that i'm short if you're shorter than me
Boomer: we r BOTH short, also stop changing the subject
Boomer: whats goin on with u? u know u can tell me anything if u want 2
Boomer saw Bubbles tense up a bit in her shoulders. Her face glanced to her side, and it was almost as if she had looked at that terribly obnoxious girl that was in their class. What was her name, Princess Toomanyfuckingbucks? Whatever. Didn't matter.
Princess was not important to Boomer. He had remembered first meeting her as a child, and now as teens, he could see that she had not gone through any character development like everybody else in their senior class. A damn shame, really. She needed it more than anyone, what with that whole "I want to be a Powerpuff now!" attitude. Boomer might have been a dick, but at least he wasn't super entitled.
It was clear that Princess had done something, though, something that made Bubbles upset. He felt himself glare at the back of her curly head. Maybe one laser beam to the dome wouldn't cause too much trouble…
(Nope. He knew he couldn't do it, even if he tried. Bubbles really knew how to screw with his evil ass morals, huh?)
Bubbles typed a little longer than she had with the other messages. Finally: 'i'm not sad at all so it's ok! ty for worrying about me tho! ur such a great friend and i appreciate you boom :)'
Oh. Such a great friend. Right.
(Such a great friend... Somehow, that made Boomer frown more than her obvious lie.)
Was it possible to be an actress even over the phone? If so, Bubbles excelled at it. Boomer would have suggested for her to consider acting on Broadway or in movies alongside barista gigs if she wasn't so sure about future college goals.
He considered responding, then decided against it. Maybe texting wasn't the right approach after all. It was a miracle they hadn't got caught by the teacher. Besides, words worked wonders when spoken.
Plus, he was such a great friend, and great friends helped their greater friends.
(Nope. The words 'such a great friend' still left a bitter taste in their wake. He absolutely despised it.)
Boomer pocketed his phone and stared at the front of the class to pretend to pay attention again. Bubbles easily shifted back into student mode, scribbling in her notebook again.
After a long time of hearing the word "phone" for far too many times than one human could deal with, the bell rang. Boomer scrambled to pick up his books, then literally flew out the door. Bubbles had already exited, so she was probably at her locker to pick up her next round of books.
Boomer glanced at his own locker from outside Mrs. Hewit's class. He then shoved all his items in haphazardly, and when he slammed it shut, he knew that it was jammed. Again. Oh well. Hopefully, he didn't need to worry about it for a couple of hours.
He weaved through piles of students talking with one another, heading to their own lockers or to their next classes. There wasn't much going on at Pokey Oaks High except tryouts for certain extracurricular activities, and none of them seemed interesting enough to try to pursue. Debate club will surely dominate with Brick on the team again, and Butch was somehow making his name known within the theater department after his surprise role as Gaston in last year's production of Beauty and the Beast.
All Boomer did was fly home as soon as the final bell rang to shove himself under his covers or annoy Mojo.
(What the hell was he supposed to do on his own in the future if he couldn't even do anything now?)
"Hey bro!" Butch threw an arm over Boomer's shoulders, and that was enough to snap Boomer out of his thoughts. "Whoa, we are walking fast. What'cha in a rush for?"
Boomer stumbled a bit, but Butch's added weight and uneven footsteps weren't enough to cause him to stop his quick-paced stride through their high school's halls. "Gotta talk to Bubbs about something."
Butch quirked an eyebrow. "Define something."
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"Pretty please?"
"No."
"Not even for your older brother?"
"I'd rather tell Brick than tell you jack shit."
Butch snorted. "Okay, now I know you're lying."
"I am," Boomer allowed himself to admit because telling his eldest brother anything was equivalent to burying himself alive right next to a timed bomb and some sort of fire. "But I'm still not telling you jack shit. Move."
"Eh. Fair 'nough," Butch sighed, finally breaking his hold of Boomer's shoulders. He turned on his heel and began walking in the other direction. "Good luck with whatever it is. Tell Sugar I said hi!"
Boomer almost thanked him but held back because if he did, then Butch would know that he needed the luck. (And Butch said that fucking nickname again. Boomer would be lying if he said he didn't want to punch his brother for it.) Instead, Boomer nodded and quickened his pace.
It was a miracle, not coming up on Blossom's radar. She was becoming one hell of a hall monitor, and though it was only the beginning of the school year, she had already given out a whopping seventy-five detentions. Apparently, a good portion of those slips was for Buttercup and Butch. The poor souls.
Bubbles was already at her locker, shuffling through books and folders. The inside was decorated with a lot of pictures: most of her sisters and the Professor, some of herself with the other cast members of every production Pokey Oaks High's Theater Club had put on since their time in high school. Towards the back were stickers of a blonde anime character with very long pigtails, half moons, and yellow crocuses.
(Boomer made sure to not pay close attention to the doodle of Temple of Aquatis stuck in the corner of the locker. He did not pay attention to how detailed it was, each pen stroke neat and smooth and perfect. He did not pay attention to it at all. Really. He didn't.)
Bubbles glanced behind her shoulder, smiled when she saw him, then turned back to her items. "Hi, cutie."
Boomer almost melted. He clenched his hands at his sides and begged his heartbeat to shut up for, like, two seconds at least. "I. Uh."
"What's up?" Thank HIM, she didn't comment on his stutters. She must be getting used to them. Maybe she thought they were a part of his usual speech pattern. Which... Well, that was technically true, just only when it came to speaking with her.
His mind clicks on something from earlier. "Butch said hi."
"Oh." Bubbles beamed, then cleared her throat. "HI SNAILS!" she belted out, and it was so loud that Boomer could have sworn the floor shook. Everybody continued walking to their destinations because this was not the first or the last time Bubbles would do this.
Butch's voice was just as loud from wherever the hell he was at school. "WHAT'S GOOD, SUGAR? TRYING OUT FOR THE PLAY?"
"YOU KNOW IT! SEE YOU THERE AFTER SCHOOL?"
"OF COURSE! I'M AIMING FOR A LEAD THIS TIME!"
"ME TOO! I BELIEVE IN YOU!"
"I BELIEVE YOU BOTH SHOULD SHUT THE HELL UP!" Brick interrupted, sounding so done that the other students couldn't help but laugh under their breaths.
Boomer snorted. Brick should be used to this by now—hell, even Blossom let it pass in all her hall monitor glory—and yet here he was, still complaining. It was like how he'd complain about snow: completely worthless since it'd always be there.
Bubbles crossed her arms and pouted. "Your brother is so mean."
"Ignore him," Boomer said with a roll of his eyes. "He makes being mean his defining character trait to hide how gross he gets with you-know-who."
Bubbles grinned at that, her chubby cheeks setting near her eyes. "Obviously. Must have the pasta incident stuck in his mind."
"The incident or the girl within the incident?"
"Both."
Boomer's laugh seemed to blend in with Bubbles's. He tried his best to not think about how pretty she looked when she laughed. It was almost like she shined, even in a hallway with dim lighting.
When their laughs died down, he looked to his left, then his right, just to make sure nobody was around to hear him. "You know what we should do today?" he whispered, hoping the sounds of other students would mask his words.
"What?" Bubbles asked, looking down at him with curiosity in her eyes.
"Skip."
"Didn't know you liked skipping, but if that's what you want to do, then okay."
Boomer blinked in surprise. He didn't think getting Bubbles to skip would be this easy. "Really?"
"Yeah! I mean, I prefer skipping in meadows, though the hallway has a charm to it, I guess."
...Oh Hell, she was so cute, it hurt a little. "…I meant, skip class," he corrected, holding back a smile.
"Ah." Bubbles blinked, taking in the true meaning of his words. "Ah." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and massaged her hands. "I-I don't know, Boomer. Don't we have a group assignment to do in—"
Boomer wasn't hearing it. "Mr. Green can wait an extra day and it's our senior year. You owe yourself at least one high school skip trip, and I'm the best damn tour guide for skipping at this dump. The little birdie from earlier really wants you to. He… He wants you to be okay, and going to class won't help that." Before he could think about it, he stuck his hand out to her. "Now are you coming or not?"
For a while, Bubbles was quiet, her cheeks and nose covered in a slight pink. Her eyes crinkled and her lip twisted as if she were having an internal debate with herself. Then, finally, she let out a quick exhale and took his hand. "'Kay. Let's go, little birdie," she said.
Boomer felt his heart in his throat as they quickly walked in the opposite direction of their next class. Her hand was soft, softer than any hand he had held. Then again, the only hands he held thus far were his brothers'. Brick had the driest hands on the planet—the boy was practically made of fire, and his body was, unfortunately, ash—while Butch's hands felt like a sidewalk that needed improvements. So, there was not much competition in that department.
His eyes scanned the area. At this point, most students were in their classes, and nobody of interest was paying the two any attention. By the time they reached the exit near the back of the school, his thundering heart had slowed down just a little. Maybe he was relieved nobody caught them. Maybe he was getting used to the hand that was placed delicately in his.
When the late bell rang, Bubbles squeezed his hand a little, but she did not turn around. This must be a lot for her, the goody-two-shoes who would never skip class, much less with a Rowdyruff. Oh, how far she's come. He'd make a delinquent of her yet.
(It was only fair because she had made him a... diet-good person? Like he wasn't all that good, but man, he was better than what he was as a child.)
"You know," Bubbles whispered, "this reminds me of that one part in Captain Spaceman where the captain and the lieutenant are sneaking out of the Pearl Headquarters."
"Oh yeah, I can see the similarities—" Boomer paused. He would have dramatically whipped his head toward her if he weren't so busy being the lookout. "Wait. You read Captain Spaceman?"
"As of recent, yeah. I saw you reading it one day, and just. You know." She shrugged nonchalantly. "Thought we could have another thing to talk about someday. I'm only on the fifth volume. I don't read very fast, so..."
Someone else was reading Captain Spaceman. Someone he knew and talked to on a semi-daily basis was reading his favorite series. This was different from the people he talked to online because even though they were relatively cool—especially DeeLovesCapSpaceman96, his favorite mutual of all time—they weren't Bubbles fucking Utonium.
To him, this was the greatest thing since fries dipped in milkshakes.
"We can talk about it!" Boomer winced as his voice echoed through the halls. He pulled Bubbles around a corner just as a door opened up quickly. Soon, the door closed again. He let out a breath as Bubbles' loosened her grip on his hand a bit. "Sorry," he whispered this time. "I mean. I just... I get really excited when I hear others are reading comics, especially Captain Spaceman. It's my favorite."
"Don't apologize for having a favorite thing. Fanboy away. I'll always be here to listen." Bubbles waved him off as if he didn't just almost land them in detention. "Actually, I think there's a Comic Club starting up next month? You should check it out if it happens. Seems like you'd fit right in."
"Eh. Nah." He shook his head and started their walk again. "Clubs aren't really my thing, you know?"
"But comics are." She bumped her shoulder against his. "Look, you don't have to do it, Boomer. Selfishness with our decisions, yeah? I just want you to think about it. Okay?"
He could be selfish and say no... But he didn't want to. He could at least think about it. No repercussions on either decision and he'd make her happy. That sounded good, and he deserved to be selfish and obtain good things all to himself, even if that thing was a view of a satisfied smile.
"Okay," he agreed, and the look on Bubbles' face made it all worth it.
Boomer continued to lead the way, slipping outside the back doors. The courtyard was bright and sunny, and the cool wind that followed it lifted his spirits. The weather was getting cooler, which meant the best holidays were approaching: Halloween and Christmas. Not to mention the return of Captain Spaceman. Or, well, its spinoff series, Lieutenant Io, which was an okay work of art and not at all better than its source material, but it had fucking lore and Boomer wasn't going to miss out on it—
"Where are we even going?" Bubbles asked, interrupting Boomer's thoughts.
Luckily, he was better at multitasking than he thought. He came upon a hidden alleyway covered by big bushes planted down by the Environmental Enthusiasts. He hopped over them while Bubbles flew a bit to avoid damaging them.
"Here we go," Boomer concluded with a sigh. He gestured the area with his hand. "Welcome to my ditch spot."
Bubbles took in the space. There wasn't much to it. Narrow, sandwiched by brick walls in between the Science Wing and the Arts Wing.
She could have said anything disrespectful about it, and he would have understood. Instead, she said, "Seems lonely."
"Huh?" Boomer shook his head. "No. I don't think of it that way. 'Sides, I've got the best girl with me." Another smile from her. Man, he was winning today. His ego doubled. "And I also got these little guys."
He crouched down to one of his most favorite spots in the alleyway, in a tight corner of the Science Wing where a patch of grass grew short yet strong. He placed his finger down and wiggled gently. There were only a few bugs out today. He decided to pick up an eager worm, who shook their body upon seeing Boomer.
"Hop on, lil' bud," he said to them. The worm moved a bit back, clearly unsure. Boomer dropped his voice to a gentler tone. "C'mon. Don't be shy in front of our visitor. She's one of those Powerpuffs I talk about. You'll love her, I swear."
"You talk about us?" Bubbles asked, sounding amused.
"Hard not to in the face of your biggest fans. Like this lil' one right here. This is… Wait, hold on." As soon as the worm made their way on his finger, he made a series of clicks with his tongue. Once the creature responded, he nodded his head in confirmation. "Yup, this is Xerald. They're apparently number three in your fan club?"
Bubbles gave him an odd sort of look. "Hold on. You can talk to bugs? Like, actually talk to them in their language?"
Boomer gulped. The last person he talked to about his bug power ended with a lot of teasing, and the one before that resulted in him punching the guy, which also resulted in him getting detention. The odds were not looking like they were in his favor here. "Yeah. It's kind of dumb, but—"
"Are you kidding? That's not dumb; that's amazing!" Bubbles exclaimed. It looked like she practically had sparkles in her eyes. Ugh. How was she real? "I can talk to animals, but not bugs yet."
Boomer didn't know that she could speak with animals, but now that he did, it was no surprise to him. "She's like a fucking Disney princess," Buttercup had said to him one day about her younger sister in their gym class. "Play an instrumental song and I can guarantee she'd sing along with two birds and a deer."
"I'm still trying to get used to the different clicks they do," Bubbles continued. She kept a noticeable distance, but she lowered her guard which was progress. "They all have different accents which makes it a bit hard. And uh, I can be scared of them sometimes, which makes it difficult."
"I can teach you one day. If you want that, of course. I've known since I was born, so like." Boomer shrugged and stuffed his free hand in the pocket of his jeans. He could feel his bracelet ride up underneath his thin sweater of the day. "You know."
"I'd love that." Bubbles gave an appreciative smile and crouched down to the worm's level. "Hi, little one. Xerald, was it? It's so nice to meet a fan."
Cute. Boomer humored the thought, let it sit in his brain for a second longer than he should have because yeah, Bubbles Utonium was pretty fucking cute. It was like the word was just another part of what made her, her.
Xerald looked up at Bubbles, then at Boomer. "You were right, Mr. Boomer," they clicked out. "Her eyes are more beautiful up close!"
"They said hello," Boomer fibbed.
"I did not say that."
"They also said your eyes are pretty."
"Wow," Bubbles breathed out, awestruck, "thank you, Xerald!"
If Xerald had eyes, they would have rolled them out of their sockets.
Boomer let out a shaky yet relieved laugh. Safe. For now. Hopefully, Xerald or the others wouldn't rat him out. He's got to stop talking with them about his feelings... Then again, therapy cost way too much in this fucking economy, and sometimes, bugs just wanted to hear him out and he just wanted to let it out, so... Shit. Go free therapy!
At the sight of Bubbles' stiff shoulders and wary eyes, Boomer gave a supportive smile. "I promise, they are more scared of you than you are of them. Try holding them. They're comfy with it."
Bubbles swallowed so hard that Boomer could hear it. Her finger shook as she stuck it out towards him, but it was clear that she wouldn't drop Xerald no matter what. Carefully, Boomer touched the tip of his finger with hers and allowed Xerald to move from him to her.
One Xerald was wrapped around her finger, Bubbles sighed. "This… This isn't so bad," she said, and her hands began to settle themselves.
"See? I told you—"
Boomer shut his mouth immediately.
Blossom Utonium, the best damn hall monitor Pokey Oaks High ever had and would ever have, was standing in front of the single window that faced the alleyway. Bubbles had her back turned toward her sister while Boomer was stuck looking at her right in the eyes.
And then, Blossom gave him A Look.
Blossom's Look wasn't that far off from Brick's. Her pink eyes bore into his soul, and even without the Chemical X, he could feel just how angry she was. She knew how to intimidate him without even trying. Hell, a word out of her in his direction made his heart skip a beat.
But then, she glanced over at her baby sister, and her eyes visibly softened. This was probably conflicting for her: the hall-monitor older sister versus her usually-innocent-gone-bad youngest sister.
Boomer could see a crack of pink come from her fingertips, but he couldn't feel it. She was holding back. Her eyes said something that could be heard in his head. Do not hurt her or I will end you.
And then she walked away.
Boomer let out the largest exhale of his life. That first hallway incident in April was a lucky dodge, and this incident was a fucking miracle. What was that saying? Three strikes and you're out? Yeah, he wasn't about to test Blossom's kindness anymore. This was his final straw.
Bubbles turned her attention away from Xerald for a bit. "Hey. You okay?" she asked softly.
No, he was not. But this wasn't about him, and he refused to even bring up her older sister when she was already on edge enough. "Yeah. Are you, though?" he asked, pushing his fear aside.
Bubbles thought for a bit then shook her head, staring at the tiny bug on her finger. "No. Not yet. Not entirely. But I'm better, I think," she admitted quietly.
It was bittersweet in a way, to see the sugar of the Powerpuff Girls look so down yet trying so hard to stay positive. Sad truly did not fit a face like hers. But she was a teenager, and teenage angst was always an unfortunate inevitable. She'd be able to get over this, if not today, then soon.
"That's good enough sometimes. To feel better." "We can't feel completely happy all the time. We're only human, after all. But any amount of feeling better is cool. That means you're close to being okay."
That advice was shitty. In the movies, the protagonist would do everything in their power to cheer up the one who was upset. But here Boomer was, giving some lousy response that probably wouldn't mean a single thing in a couple of minutes.
"Yeah?" Bubbles asked.
Boomer nodded. "Yeah," he said simply in reply.
Bubbles face melted into a small, content smile. Her eyes still looked sad, but overall, she looked like she would be okay. Not now, but soon. "…Yeah," she concluded.
Xerald gave her a gentle pat with their head on the tip of her finger, and even though her smile wobbled, it never faded from her face.
Maybe the advice wasn't good. But Hell, it seemed to be good for Bubbles. Who was he to question that?
They settled down into a comfortable silence that stretched out for the rest of the class period. Bubbles never told him what was wrong with her, but Boomer figured she didn't have to because it looked to him like his presence was just enough for her to smile. And that itself was enough for him, too.
(Okay, so maybe Boomer was a liar. The smile was not enough for him.
Later that day, Boomer heard Princess Toomanyfuckingbucks screaming from the third floor of Pokey Oaks High. Brick had told Boomer that somebody had placed an elaborate trap above the door to the room of her private piano lessons that ended up with Princess having multiple chewed up wads of gum and scraps of blonde hair all over her, from her own hair to her elaborate and fancy clothes. Brick could not help but note that the trap looked awfully familiar to Boomer's typical creations, the brand of bubblegum looked awfully familiar to the one Boomer was addicted to, and the blonde hair looked awfully familiar to what lied on top of Boomer's head.
Boomer had simply pled the fifth and nothing more.
Brick had nodded in understanding, ruffled his youngest brother's hair into a mess, and didn't bring it up again.
The next day, Princess came in with a wig. It was a good one, but everyone who knew what happened yesterday could not be hidden from the truth on the terrible haircut that lied underneath it. Someone said that not even the best hairstylist in the country could fix what had been done to her.
As Boomer walked to his first-period class, his eyes met Blossom's. Her lip was settled in a tiny yet noticeable smile, and she even gave him a gentle pat on the back. She didn't need to say anything for him to know that she supported what he did, even if it was in poor taste for the leader of the Powerpuff Girls to do so. She even let his skipping fiasco from yesterday slide. Maybe she was everything nice after all.
Buttercup and Butch were a bit more vocal with their support, deciding to practically yell the fact out in the hallway. "How the hell did you even manage to make it that bad?" they had asked in unison as Boomer grabbed his things from his locker. He would have answered, but the two immediately got into an argument for "stealing their question."
And before walking into his class, he saw Bubbles look at Princess, then at the floor, and she let out a giggle. She did not make it obvious, nor did she tease Princess as the spoiled brat made her way to class. A singular flower felt like it rose from the ground.
Even when Boomer heard the principal announce his name over the intercom later that day, telling him to come to the office immediately, even when he was suspended for a week due to being caught by the school cameras, and even when he had to sit through a Mojo lecture at home for a good hour, he concluded that what he did was worth it.
Now this? This was enough for him.)
A/N Hello again my lovely readers! Thanks so much for yet again inhaling my self-indulgent Blues fic. This is literally my favorite coping mechanism lol, so I'm glad others are getting enjoyment out of it!
Good news! I have moved and I now have another job! I have to unpack a ton, but still, hooray for labor I guess...? I should definitely be able to continue updating this fic as scheduled. I am unsure about my other fics... I'm just gonna keep winging those pfft-
Next month is honestly my favorite chapter of all time. You're all in for a treat... or maybe a trick. Who knows? (Well, I do, but still, you'll find out soon enough). See you all on or around October 2nd!
Next Chapter: October
Haunted houses are scams, but like... what isn't a scam nowadays?