Brendan

My dad pulls me aside. Wally and May tag along too.

"So, you finally decided to take after your Old Man and become a trainer, huh?" he says.

"Yeah, I guess," I reply. But there are more important things going on right now. "Why did you stop us? We aren't afraid of that ugly rat. And we're not afraid of his Pokemon either."

"I'm happy for you," Dad says, ignoring what I said. "A little jealous, too. I'd give just about anything to be in your shoes, traveling the world with your Pokemon for the first time. It's unforgettable."

"Sure. But seriously, Dad, those two thugs need to be put in their place."

"Of course, you got that determination from me. I know you won't stop until you're the strongest you can be."

Now I'm starting to realize what's going on.

"You don't think we could have taken him," I say.

"Son, I know you couldn't have. Not yet."

"And how do you know that exactly?"

"Well, I know you, for one. For another, no trainer in their right mind would see a fully realized Linoone and send out a little Wurmple in response. To do so would show a lack of, uh, experience."

"Hey, I already beat one trainer on my way here!" I say. I leave out the part where I barely won two Pokemon to her one.

"That's great! You're undefeated then so far, right?" my dad asks.

"Well..." I glance back at May, who is standing unusually far from us. She gives a little wave. I don't know why she's not bragging obnoxiously about her victory over me, but I don't have time to think about that right now. "Not exactly."

"I see."

"I don't mean to interrupt," the green haired kid, who I now remember my dad calling Wally, speaks up, "but I don't have much time..."

"Ah, yes," my dad says. "You're headed to Verdanturf soon, right? And you wanted help catching a Pokemon to take with you."

"Yes, sir." Wally nods. "It'll be awfully lonely staying there, and there's hardly anything to do, so I just thought..."

"I think it's a great idea," Dad says. "Even better, Brendan is just the guy to help you get yourself your very own Pokemon."

"I am?"

"Yes, of course. This will be good for both of you. Here, Wally, borrow my Zigzagoon for a while. And here's a few Pokeballs too. Go find yourself a Pokemon. Brendan, make sure he gets a good one, alright?"

"But I...fine."

There's a patch of tall grass not too far from the gym. Wally and I head that way, with May not far behind. I think she doesn't know if she should be a part of this or not. I wish she would—she would be a way better teacher than me for this stuff. But I can't just turn around and ask for her help either. Why?

Well, it's not because she's a girl, I'll say that much. She knows as well as I do that she's the better Pokemon Trainer by far. In fact, I was about to ask for her help. But when I turned around, I saw those two gym thugs following us some distance away.

I won't give them the satisfaction of knowing I needed help to catch a Pokemon. And I don't need help anyway. Wally and I can do just fine on our own.

So I storm into the tall grass, maybe a little more aggressively than I should, looking for any Pokemon that will show itself. After a bit, I see it: a little guy with a big green head that looks like a helmet. My Pokedex says it's a Ralts. I kind of want him myself, but I don't have time to sit out here all day.

"Okay, Wally," I say. "Send out my dad's Zigzagoon and wear out that Ralts up there."

"Right," Wally says, "sure thing. Um...how do I get the Pokemon out of the ball?"

"Press the button and throw it."

With some effort, Wally gets my dad's Pokemon to appear.

"Now what?"

"Tackle that thing to the ground," I say. "No, not you! Make your Pokemon do it!"

The Ralts is pretty fragile. Just one tackle from my dad's Zigzagoon has it barely able to stand. I probably shouldn't think this, but Ralts seems like the perfect Pokemon for this kid.

"Now I should throw a Pokeball, right?" he asks.

"Just make sure it's one of the empty ones."

"Alright, here goes..."

Wally chucks the Pokeball way too hard. Even though Ralts isn't even moving, the Pokeball flies clear past it.

Behind us, the two jerks from the gym burst out laughing. It's pretty clear that Wally is embarrassed. I can see it on his face. I won't lie, I can feel my face start to heat up too.

"Will you just do it for me? I don't want to waste more of your dad's stuff," he says. "Or maybe we should just leave now. I shouldn't have even tried to—"

I can barely hear Wally over the laughter from the two behind us, but I can tell it's quitter talk. I won't let him give up now. If for no other reason than to shut those two up.

"No. You can do this. You will do this."

"Alright, I'll try again."

Wally throws the next ball much more gently. It hangs in the air for what seems like an eternity. When it comes back down, it hits the Ralts right on his giant green helmet-head. A light shines from the Pokeball, and Ralts disappears inside.

I have to say, watching that Pokeball twist and turn on the ground was the longest five seconds of my life. But when it stopped, and Ralts was confirmed caught, I don't think even Wally was as excited as I was.

"We did it! We caught it!" Wally cries.

"Yes! Who's laughing now?"

I turn to gloat at the gym trainers, but they aren't there. They must have assumed Wally would never catch a Pokemon after that first throw and left. For some reason, that makes me even angrier at them.

I won't forget who they are. Someday I'll make sure they get what they deserve.

"Nice job, guys!" May says as she walks over. "I knew you could do it."

"Seems like you were the only one," I say.

"Oh, forget about those losers," she says. "You probably won't ever see them again anyway."

"I will. Someday."

May goes quiet. I can tell she's looking at me, but I don't care what she thinks. Someday I will come back here and beat the pants off both of those gym trainers, no matter what it takes.

"Um, excuse me," Wally says, breaking my train of thought. "Could I ask for one more thing?"

"What is it?" May asks.

"I want to see a battle. Can you two show me one?"

"Right now?" I say. "We just got them healed up."

"I think it's a great idea," May says. Because of course she does. "We can stop before it goes too far, and we can both gives our Wurmples some much needed practice. What do you say, Brendan?"

I know how this is going to go. It won't be any better than the first time. And if Wally wasn't here, I'd immediately say no. But he's had a rough day, and it sounds like where he's going there might not be too many battles happening.

"Alright," I say. "Wurmples only. Let's try not to visit the Pokemon Center again today."

"Deal."

May calls out Silky, and I bring out Fishbait. By all measures, this should be an even fight. One Wurmple against the other. But I just know May has something up her sleeve.

Still, she's not taking me down without a fight.

My Pokedex says Fishbait only knows two moves: Stringshot and Tackle. I don't know what the first one does, but I'm pretty familiar with the other.

"Alright, Fishbait! Go get 'em with a Tackle!"

"Silky! Stringshot!" May yells.

Her Wurmple takes the full force of Fishbait's tackle, but not before spitting a layer of white goo on my Pokemon. It seems like whatever May did is dragging down Fishbait a little, but not enough that he can't do another—

"Tackle!"

"Silky! Stringshot again!"

Again we exchange the same moves. As I'm about to call for my next tackle in a brilliant strategical line of the same move, my Pokedex lights up. I can see May's do the same in her pocket. As I look at the screen, I see a new move pop up under what Fishbait knows: something called Poison Sting. I shrug. Why not mix it up a little?

"Fishbait, use Poison Sting!"

"Silky, hit back with a Tackle!"

Silky gets the attack off first and hits Fishbait hard. The Stringshots are starting to really stack up; Fishbait can hardly chase after May's Wurmple at all. But still, when Silky comes in close, the Poison Sting lands.

"Oh, Brendan, don't you know?" May shakes her head. "Wurmple isn't affected by poison due to its Shed Skin ability. Your Poison Sting doesn't help."

"Oh yeah? Then you won't mind if we do this: Fishbait, Poison Sting!"

"Silky, don't let them come close. Stay back and keep using Stringshot!"

Fishbait crawled after Silky like a, well, worm. As the Stringshots kept stacking up, Fishbait got slower and slower. Before long, Fishbait could hardly move at all. He wasn't hurt, just so slow.

"Give up yet?" May says. She's just loving this.

"You have to come in close sometime," I say.

"Don't tempt me," she says.

We both stare at each other for a second. I can tell by the look on her face that she was thinking the same thing: that was a weird thing to say. When we both look back to our Pokemon, something strange happened.

Both our Wurmples are gone. I didn't think much of it, since Fishbait was already buried under Stringshots, but now it looks like Fishbait is a Stringshot. One giant ball of it, with an angry-looking eyeball. The same thing happened to May's Wurmple, but Silky looks like a happier cocoon ball somehow.

I look at my Pokedex for answers, and it tells me Fishbait has evolved. No longer a Wurmple, now something called a Cascoon. Silky has turned into a Silicoon. Cascoon instinctively learned the move Harden, so I'm sure May's Pokemon did too. I'll never use it, I'm sure, so long as Fishbait can still use Tackle. Should I even still call it Fishbait?

"Wow!" Wally says. "That was amazing!"

"Yeah..." I say. "I'm not sure what happened there."

"Our Pokemon evolved," May confirms. "Just as I was about to wipe the floor with you too..."

"You were not! We were putting up a good fight. Maybe we would have won!"

"In your dreams, Boy-o," May says, wagging her finger. "Good effort, anyway."

I'm starting to miss the company of the gym bullies.

"Thank you so much, both of you," Wally says. "For everything. I couldn't ask for a better day, or better f-frien—oh, I have to go, my mom is calling me! See you later, hopefully!"

I think he was trying to say 'friends'. Guess I'll never know, because he took off running back toward the gym. I hope he remembers to give my dad back his Pokemon, but I'm not too worried. Wally is alright. Maybe I'll pay him a visit someday in whatever that town is called he is headed to.

But first things first. I need to get stronger. And I'm not stopping until I can wipe the floor with those two gym trainers who laughed at us. If that means I don't go home for a while, then so be it.

"May," I say, "let's go."