Hi! Thank you for reading this chapter. Hope you all enjoy it. Disclaimer: I don't own PPG.
Her voice struggled to leave her throat as she stared at him. It was more like she was gawking at him in disbelief, but she couldn't control her face.
He'd left her room as quickly as he came, urging her to hurry up and get dressed so he could drive them to see Dune: Battle for Vengeance. He gave her a quizzical grin at her gaping, but didn't question her actions.
He probably didn't think too much of it, she hoped that was true.
Suddenly she remembered this day. It was the day she decided that maybe Mitch could be more than a friend. More than just the jerky freckle faced jokester of their friend group. That day, there was something about the way he paid attention to her, the way he looked at her. It made her falter. She'd let it slip to Butch after the movie that she thought she liked Mitch.
She told him about the strange burning in her chest when she'd see him, the thumping in her chest when he'd smile at her. She remembered how Butch laughed with a somewhat bewildered look in his eyes, "Butter's got a crush? Hell's gonna freeze over."
She was a nineteen year old with butterflies in her stomach back then. Now she was a thirty-odd year old woman in the body of a nineteen year old. A body that didn't feel butterflies, but instead a sharp pain that brought on nausea.
The burning in her throat started again, she felt like throwing up and debated on whether she should sprint into the bathroom down the hall. She wondered if she would get her head over the toilet in time, the pine scented cleaner her father insisted in using wafting in the air as she puked her guts out. Instead she heaved like she did last night...or was that in the future?
All of this was hurting her head, pounding it like a drum.
She didn't even feel like watching the damned movie. Why would she pay to watch something she'd already watched before? A part of her felt like flaking out. She didn't want to spend time with Mitch. She didn't want to be near him. She didn't want thoughts of him in her room, standing in her door, defiling the sanctity of her safe space.
When he opened her door, all she saw was his lifeless face. All she could remember was him lying there on that cold metal table, a white sheet covering his undoubtedly open chest cavity. His face was bruised, and his nose sat crooked. The machines they tried to hook him onto to keep him alive during surgery were still there, beeping and groaning in the stillness. Singing a swan song of death.
A face and smile she once loved, now broken and battered. She knew she'd never forget it.
Martha cried even harder at the sight of him. Mourning the loss of her eldest son, she sobbed about how she didn't even get to tell him that she loved him that day. She didn't get to stay by his side as he passed away.
Buttercup believed that Martha felt guilty. The woman survived a car accident that was far worse than her son's but here she was, alive and grieving while her son lay dead.
Buttercup thought Martha was at least luckily to have been at the hospital as soon as possible. If it were Buttercup laying there, pale and cold, her parents would have to cry over body in a morgue days later. Her sisters flanking their sides, sobbing as they whispered bitterly about how their sister that came into the world with them, left it without them.
It was like seeing a zombie. A reanimated corpse that looked at her with a ghostly expression and a light in his voice she hadn't heard in years. She knew this would fuck her up. How could it not?
It all made her feel so dirty. She felt like a villain for not mourning her husband the way she felt she should have. Yes, he cheated. He slept with another woman multiple times. He seemingly had no remorse for it either. She was disgusted by his face, rotten and pale. Disgusted by his actions.
But, she felt so in-human for feeling so detached from it.
After he passed, she struggled to find the reason for her tears. Was it because she was sad that he was dead? Was it because she felt empty, with so many questions of why he would do that to her?
Was it because she felt as if she got the short end of the stick, unable to do the childish thing and cheat back with hopes that he would be just as crushed and angry as she was?
All Buttercup wanted to do was crawl back into her small, springy bed and go back to sleep.
Maybe she would be back where she belonged if she did. She would be back with her students, having class. She would be drowning with condolences and well- wishes from her co-workers that would make her feel more guilty than supported.
She would be living with the reality of being a widow whose husband's infidelity bore a child he would never meet.
Was it a boy, or a girl? An innocent party, they didn't ask to be conceived that way. She imagined a child with Mitch's freckles, Rachel's green eyes.
Then she remembered Butch. His words over the phone. His "I love you…"
It all made her tear up again and she almost growled a curse at herself. She was tired of feeling this way, in so much pain. In so much distress, being sad. He told her that he was human for feeling this way. That she was hurt and deserved the chance to be angry.
He was there at the movies waiting for them, and by extension her. That was enough for her to pull on a random shirt and pair of jeans in a hurry. If there was a face she wanted, needed to see, it was his.
She ruffled her hair into some semblance of presentable, grimacing at how short it was and then forced her feet into a pair of converse she remembered as being her favorite.
She definitely wanted to grow her hair back out. Something that would make her nineteen year old sisters freak. In high school, they would always quip about how pretty Buttercup's hair was when it was longer. She was inclined to agree with them now.
She chopped it off the summer before she first stepped foot in Townsville High. Butch lamented the loss of it as well, but assured her that her shorter pixie cut looked "totally wicked" when he first saw it.
He'd grown up only seeing her with hair that ended at least to her shoulder, the pixie cut was a dramatic change. One that she embraced in ninth grade, but questioned now. As her reflection showed, her hair was longer than a pixie cut, more of a messy angular bob.
She wanted her long wavy hair back, like how she had it at thirty-four. She wanted to see the soft wave and curl that she inherited from her mother framing her face. Her redheaded mother sported a tight curl pattern, and Buttercup was the only one to get a texture anything close to it.
She grabbed Butch's hoodie and debated putting it on. He'd let her borrow it a couple of times before, before she started dating Mitch.
He'd offered it to her a couple of times after, but Mitch commented on how weird it was seeing his girlfriend wear another man's clothing. She agreed, it was a little strange. But to hell with that now. She was no one's girlfriend and she could do whatever the hell she wanted.
Buttercup figured it was in her room because he simply forgot it there, like he did a lot of his things. Not that she minded. Most times, it was something she got some use out of. A video game, a band t-shirt, those cheap silver rings he liked to wear sometimes. If he left it, she used it.
Pulling the hoodie over her head, she smiled at her reflection. It was a comfortable hoodie, and it swallowed her frame as Butch was increadably tall compared to her. Looking around in her nightstand, she took a little bit of cash that was stuffed in the bottom of the drawer and nearly flew down the stairs of her childhood home.
Mitch was outside, leaning against his old Ford with his phone in hand. It was an old junkyard find that Greg and Mitch worked the moment Mitch got his driving permit. They labored over the hunk of junk for well over a year. They still worked on it from time to time, slowly modifying and updating it with the little salary Mitch got from his part-time job at the mall.
Greg drove the car all the way to Portland when he and Martha decided to move up there. Buttercup was shocked that it held together.
Buttercup inwardly scoffed at the memory of how he treated that car better than her at some points in the very early part of their relationship. She remembered how she felt jealousy. Towards a fucking car! She'd never ever let that boil her over again.
Which would be easy, as she planned to let Mitch and his car suck face in peace, without her meddling.
Mitch's eyes glanced over her when he noticed her approach, lingering on the hoodie. Pocketing his phone, he opened his mouth to speak but Buttercup beat him to it, "Let's go Hotshot. We're late enough already."
She felt like he was gonna make a jab about her wearing Butch's hoodie. She didn't care to hear his jokes.
They climbed in and she bulked her seatbelt. Being near him was strange, but being in a car with him was even stranger.
Mitch scoffed lightly, "I wonder whose fault that is." He turned his head to see the road, backing out of her driveway slowly.
"Meh, the nap was worth it, trust me." Buttercup laughed lightly, refusing to glance at him and instead peered out the window. Noting how different everything looked, she was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Townsville changed more in fifteen years than she realized.
Despite being through strange and unnatural circumstances, she was glad to be back home. She missed quirky Townsville with its vintage movie theatres, and old sketchy comic book stores with the best shit she'd ever read hidden inside.
She even missed seeing her crappy ass high school that just happened to get an exorbitant donation around six years after she graduated. Her old middle and elementary school too. They were turned into state of the art facilities with cool interactive monitors and teaching supplies she would have killed to have for her own students back in Portland.
She thought that she could stick around in Townsville this time. Maybe even try teaching in Citiesville. As long as she was still in Pokey Oaks County, she would be fine.
Mitch had the radio on, songs she forgot existed met her ears. She thought about the other friends she would see today. Diana, Chloe, Kev and Rich. She was so excited to see them, it made her wonder how the thought of not going to the movie could even cross her mind.
Diana and Chloe were her best girlfriends. The three of them met in middle school and stuck together like glue. Fifteen years in the future, the three of them were just as close.
Diana Foy was a short (shorter than Buttercup) energy ball with a curly, kinky afro that almost always covered her eyes in a comical way. Sometimes she wore braids, puffs, and a couple of other hairstyles, but she was known for her signature fro.
That afro was the reason why she always sat at the very top of the theater, concerned that her hair would block other's view. She was nice for that, Buttercup would have just said screw them all.
She was kind and lax, except for when school was involved. Her grades were her baby, and she was deadly serious when they were involved. Her efforts would pay off in the future as she became a highly valued Software Engineer and eventually the CEO of her own blossoming tech startup.
She became a central figure in the Townsville Tech hub.
Chloe Cruz was the voice of reason between the three girls. A soft voiced afro-latina who was taller than Buttercup, but only by a little. Chloe was sweet, until she got a game controller in her hand. She was the most competitive gamer Buttercup had ever met.
She became a video game developer, and semi-professional esports player. Buttercup enjoyed watching her bestfriend's twitch streams whenever she had time.
Kevin Seong, was a goofy artistic nerd. Buttercup couldn't describe him any differently. He was always mild mannered, always laughing quietly to himself and telling the best jokes under his breath. He became a graphic designer, and eventually the Creative Director for his wife's startup...Diana.
Seven years from now, Diana Foy will become Diana Seong. Their wedding was a beautiful blend of Caribbean and Korean. Diana, being from the island of Saint Lucia, wanted a beach wedding. She wore a beautiful hanbok during the wedding ceremony and changed into a classic white western wedding dress for the reception.
They'd been tip-toeing around each other all throughout high school before Kev finally asked her out during their Senior year of high school. Buttercup remembered how thrilled she was at no longer having to keep quiet about Kev's obvious crush. Diana liked him the whole time but wasn't confident enough to just tell him. It exasperated Buttercup.
Richard DeMarco was the level headed strategist of the group. He was the planner, the organizer. He was actually Diana and Kev's wedding planner, and he did a kick-ass job. She wanted him to plan her Mitch's wedding as well, but Mitch insisted that they could plan it themselves.
Rich assured that he would be able to do it with a "Friend Discount", but Mitch still refused the help. It was hell. She was stressed out of her mind, and Mitch shot down practically every idea she had with the excuse that they couldn't afford it.
Richard planned his and Chloe's wedding, and she became Chloe Cruz-DeMarco. It was so beautiful, Buttercup cried. Twice.
They started officially dating a little bit before her and Mitch did, but Chloe flirted with Richard all the time. The poor guy couldn't blush harder whenever Chloe was around.
Richard, being the extravagant person he was, asked her out with a romantic evening picnic in Townsville Central Park a day after their freshman college finals and a promise ring that looked like it cost him his entire summer savings.
The guy moved fast, giving her a ring before even really dating. Buttercup asked him why, before he did it, and he told her that he felt didn't have to wait when he knew that Chloe was who he wanted, needed.
"I have to show her that I'm serious. That I care. Plus it should scare other guys away…"
She laughed at him then, but did acknowledge how sweet it was.
Buttercup realized that the almost whole friend group practically paired off. Like it was unavoidable.
Butch was the outlier, he never got married. Barely even dated. They'd joked that he would be the rich bachelor uncle and godfather of all of their future children.
When Chloe and Rich had their son, sweet little Josiah (Joey for short) that's basically what happened. The boy was spoiled, on his first birthday, Butch gifted him a (toy) Range Rover that the kid wasn't even big enough to steer yet.
As they got closer to the theater, Buttercup got more excited. She hadn't seen all of her friends in one place in so long. It was years, technically.
In Portland, she felt so lonely at times, so isolated. Video chatting helped at times, but would never measure up to the feeling of being there with her friends in person.
Everyone stayed between Citiesville and Townsville, content to just travel if they wanted a change of pace. Including her sisters. She was the outlier. Her and Mitch would be the only one missing during Sunday Barbeque. The only one's missing during the monthly outings.
She missed plenty of girl's nights. Days of mindless shopping, which she admittedly liked to do with others. She regretted ever leaving home at times.
Within about ten minutes of driving they arrived at the theater, it felt like much longer.
It was one of those theaters with the box office facing outside the main theater towards the road. She figured everyone would be waiting inside. Jumping out of the car just as he put it in park, Buttercup ambled up the street with a slight spring in her step.
The drawstrings of the hoodie clacked together at the metal tips, creating a monotonous sound that drowned out the white noise around her.
She was on a mission. Find Butch. Sit next to him. Pretend she enjoyed the movie.
She had no clue what she was gonna do after. She had no clue what she was going to say to him. How to act.
Buttercup was mentally over thirty years old, she didn't really know how to act like a teenager anymore.
She assumed she would just try to be herself. Her personality didn't really change throughout the years. Sure, she'd mellowed out. Less angry, less impulsive, but she was still Buttercup.
Buttercup Utonium, not Mitchleson. She felt like she had a fresh start.
She walked up to the box office and smiled at the lack of a line. "One ticket for Dune: Battle for Vengeance, please."
If she were actually a nineteen year old girl, she knew she would have thought the guy behind the counter was hot. He looked frighteningly like Jamison. That made her stomach turn.
He had a bored look on his face as he told her the price of the ticket. Handing him the correct amount of money, she looked over her shoulder to see if Mitch had caught up with her yet.
She didn't see him within the bodies that walked past her. She glanced around for a face full of freckles and sandy brown hair. She turned back around when the guy cleared his throat.
"Enjoy the movie." He drawled, handing her the ticket.
She took it and walked into the theatre, clenching the poor piece of paper. Her nerves were high and she couldn't shake herself out of it.
"It's just Butch. We're just watching a movie." She assured herself.
The nice thing to do would be to wait for Mitch in the lobby so they could go into the actual theatre together. She went to the concessions stand and decided that would give him enough time to go get his ticket.
Looking at the board she noted how cheap everything seemed. She could get a large popcorn, medium drink, and any candy of her choosing for only eight dollars. That would be unheard of fifteen years in the future.
"Inflation's a bitch, huh?"
She had a few people in front of her. There was a seemingly teenage couple, based on their looks and on how much PDA they were throwing out into the world. The guy, tall and almost as lanky as Mitch, whispered something in the girl's ear that made her giggle almost obnoxiously.
The girl nudged the guy away only to grab his hand and pull him back and plant a kiss on his cheek.
It made her roll her eyes. She almost gagged when she saw the guy hold the girl's chin and pull her face up to kiss her back on the lips. The wet suction-like sound that came after they parted made Buttercup's stomach queasy. Gross.
Looking everywhere now if only to clear her eyes of the extremely affectionate couple, she spotted Mitch walking towards her. His face flashed rotten and pale again. Dead, for just a moment.
"Whatcha gonna get?" He asked, looking up at the board as she did earlier.
She shifted on the balls of her feet, looking down at the ground to avoid the chance of locking eyes. "Maybe just some candy." She mumbled.
To anyone looking at her, it may have looked as if she were shy. A fluttered girl avoided eye contact with a guy, but she knew the truth.
Eventually they got what they ordered and sped-walked to the right theatre room. Luckily for Mitch, the previews hadn't started yet. The room was still bright, and she spotted her friends at the very top. Diana's afro acting like a beacon, she climbed the stairs taking it two, three steps at a time.
A smile blossomed on her face as she waved at them. They waved back with even more enthusiasm. Her eyes coasted over all of them and stopped on Butch. He was looking down at her, the sly smirk she loved plastered on his face. His eyes, though, sparked with something she couldn't place.
It made her chest burn.
He motioned for her to sit next to him as she got closer, which would put her between him and Kevin. Mitch would have to sit next to Richard.
As she sat down, she handed him a King-sized Kit-Kat, her favorite and his as well.
"I can't love you more than I do right now." He gasped and took it eagerly and moved to rip it open. Buttercup snatched it back before he could.
"Don't eat it now, the movie hasn't even started yet." She chastised him with a voice she'd often used on her students, she realized later.
That word tumbling out of his lips, made her heart jump. "Love", he used it so casually. She didn't know how to feel about it.
Butch pouted and looked almost disappointed at her words, "Yes, mom."
She dropped the chocolate bar back in his hand and watched as he dropped it into the cupholder between them.
Her friends all gave their greetings and she chatted with them quietly, in order to avoid being a disturbance to the other movie go-ers.
She thought it was then, that the reality of it all hit her. She was really here. Laughing with her friends, aged fifteen years younger. Watching previews of movies that felt ancient and dated.
The past was now her present. It scared the living shit out of her. Her breath picked up and stuttered. As if he sensed her oncoming distress, Butch nudged her elbow with his. Eyes glued to the screen, he lightly grabbed her hand, effectively stopping its shaking.
It was too dark to clearly see, but the proof was literally in her palm. His hand was warm, it made her unnaturally warm in the coolness of the theater. The hoodie was now too hot, but she wouldn't dare take it off. Taking it off would mean something, she didn't know exactly what, but she didn't want to find out.
She held his hand even tighter. Though she'd calmed down significantly since he'd first reached towards her, she couldn't bring herself to let go of his hand.
The movie was just as she remembered. The little details she'd forgotten were fun to re-experience. She'd actually let out a gasp in anticipation once or twice.
As she watched the credits roll, the lights slowly came back on. Her eyes drifted to her hand that was still locked with Butch's. The feeling of it had become natural, almost like a perfectly fitting puzzle piece.
She followed her friends out of the theater in somewhat of a daze as Butch pulled her along, his grip tight. Eager to leave the emptying theater, he walked ahead of the group. As they reached the now open threshold to the theater lobby, Diana's voice broke through.
"That was honestly a good movie! Didn't think it could top the first one."
She was casually leaning on Kevin like a wall, easy enough as the guy towered over her small frame. A gentle giant, his arms wrapped around her shoulders a lazy way.
"Some of those shots looked unreal. Great pacing too. Freya had me on the edge the whole time. I knew she was a conniving bitch." Chloe added.
Buttercup admitted that the movie was better than she recalled it to be. She paid attention to most of it, parts of it she missed as her mind seemed to be acutely aware of her best friend's hand that intertwined with her's. As cliché as it sounded, his hands were large and comfortably warm. She'd ghosted her thumb over each ridge, bump, and line of his fingers, in silent awe of how small her hand seemed in his.
She thought that maybe he'd find her actions weird, but she couldn't help herself. He was real. This was all real, and she didn't want to let it go.
Richard's stomach growled, breaking through the chatter of the group. Mitch's stomach followed with a loud gurgling that made everyone laugh.
"Ok, so I guess we find food now." Kevin quipped, his head now sitting on top Diana's. His face buried so deeply in her hair, his voice came out muffled.
Pulling up briefly and taking a heavy breath before diving back into her hair, Kevin let out an even more muffled, "I could eat. Wings?"
Diana laughed and shook her head, trying to free her hair from her boyfriend's face, "Can't eat if you suffocate on hair."
Butch grined and teased, "Oh trust me, he'd love to go out that way. Dude's got strange kinks."
Kevin's head popped up once more, with a matching grin he answered, "Oh don't act like hair isn't your thing. You nearly cried when Butters cut her hair last month."
Butch bristiled and gave a flustered shout, "I did not! I was just a little taken aback." His hand clenched her's tighter for a second in reaction.
Richard laughed and joined in on the teasing, "Oh no, you definitely almost cried. I saw your eyes getting misty the Monday we all met up on the green."
Butch clicked his tongue and threw out a short, "It was allergies!" before he began to walk ahead again, gently pulling Buttercup along until she walked in step with him. There was no doubt that he was enroute to Jinny Wings, their group's favorite wing spot. Conveniently, it was only a block away.
He let their arms swing back and forth, seemingly carefree.
"Allergies? Since when do you have allergies?" Buttercup hmmed, snickering as she heard him groan.
"Since forever." He grumbled. Looking back at their friends that tailed behind, he leaned over and whispered with a grin," We should ditch em."
She smiled, a small one at the thought of just spending time with him alone. "I really want Jinny's though." She whined with a laugh in her voice.
Butch a little deflated at that before he cracked another smile. "Well, I'm not gonna say no to food. Let's eat first, then ditch 'em'. We fuck around for a couple of hours, then I take you home-"
Buttercup cut him off with a sputter, " Woah! Not the best choice of words there." Her eyes looked up at him in shock, his words giving her whiplash, before she reddened in embarrassment. She definitely read into that too much.
Color her surprised when Butch flushed and stuttered out, " I- Woah. Sorry, I didn't mean it that way. Not to say I wouldn't, trust me I would- shit. I'm making this worse."
He let her hand go and before she could mourn the loss of it, he spun around to address their friends that were some feet away, absorbed in their own conversation.
"Butters and I are gonna get pizza then hang for a bit, see you guys!" He rushed out, grabbing her hand once again he made a dash towards Carl's Pizzeria across the street. Luckily, the street was empty, allowing for an easy escape.
Swinging open the door with his other hand, he pulled Buttercup inside and slid into a secluded booth at the back of the half empty shop. It all happened faster than she could say, "What the actual Hell?!"
Now sitting across from him, she studied his face as his leg bounced and knocked the wooden table repeatedly in a steady rhythm.
"I honestly don't know how to explain all of this. I don't know where to start without me sounding like a crazy person, ruining our friendship, or both. Please don't think I'm crazy." He breathed out, leg still bouncing. The urge to kick it with hopes he'd stop almost took her over.
"Uh, okay." Her stomach dropped.
"I don't remember driving to the theater. I just opened my eyes and there I was standing outside of my car." Butch spoke lowly, like he was sharing classified Pentagon secrets.
"Okay…"
He struggled to formulate a way to say all of this in a way that made sense, "I- I'm not this Butch. This body is not mine. I mean it is, but-"
Buttercup gasped, her eyes went wide, her head started swimming. If it was what she was thinking, she'd probably start to cry.
"God, how the Hell am I supposed to explain this!" He hissed, grabbing at his hair in frustration. "When I said I'd see you soon, I didn't think it would be like this." He mumbled lowly to himself. So low, she barely caught it.
Clearing her throat, she found her voice. She might regret asking him this later, but she had to try. The words were no longer ringing in her head, they were screaming.
"When you said that you loved me, and that you always will, what did you mean? You hung up so fast, I didn't get to ask." She said it so softly, she wondered if he even heard her, but then she looked up.
His eyes went wide, and his mouth started to drop open. His nose flared in the tell-tale sign that he was letting guarded emotions slip to the surface.
"I meant exactly that. I love you... Holy shit Butters, it's you." His eyes flashed with that thing again.
Her stomach dropped again, but she smiled.
"If you didn't hang up so fast, I would have been able to say it back." Buttercup laughed, tears pooling in her eyes. Blinking them away, she watched as Butch entangled his hand with her's once again.
"If you say it now, I'd hold you to it." He murmured, drunk on emotions.
"I love you Butch, and I always will." She whispered as if afraid of her own voice. Squeezing his hand tighter, she gave a watery laugh when he pulled her hand to his lips.
A chaste kiss that told her everything she needed to know.
Lol, Butch let it slip that he would totally do the deed with Buttercup, tried to backtrack because she is (technically) nineteen and he is subconsciously thirty-four/thirty-five. Hope you guys like the chapter!