Disclaimer: :P don't make me sad . . .
A/N: hey, I hope this chapter will be a little more exciting. Could we possibly see a make up in this??? Hm . . . we'll have to wait and see. Enjoy and this chapter is juicy . . . as Yoda would say . . . French guys I like . . .
-chapter twelve-
"How are we supposed to know what third hour is?" 18 said thoughtfully, smoothing out her schedule. It said, third hour- special. "What's special?"
"I don't know, maybe there's a sign for it," Chichi suggested, looking around, while squeezing out her wet hair.
"Over here," Bulma said quietly, pointing to a sign that said Special class at Beach. "Agh, we could have just stayed there." Bulma slipped on her shorts over her suit and began walking towards the beach, fluttering her wings to dry them off.
"Wait up, Bulma!"
When they arrived at the beach, they looked around at the people in their class. Boy's Cabin Six was still in their class. Is Vegeta ever going to not be in one of our classes? Bulma thought to herself. Goku waved happily to Chichi and patted the sand next to him where he was sitting. Chichi looked at Bulma and shrugged, running over to sit next to her boyfriend.
"Look, Bulma. Vegeta is sitting over there," she said quietly, pointing to the other side of the beach. Bulma nodded. "Come sit with us. You guys will work this out!"
During swimming, Bulma was extremely confident in her plan to go and sort things out with Vegeta, but now she wasn't so sure. She kept telling herself she didn't care what he thought or anything, but she knew that was a down right lie. What if he laughed at her, and really did hate her?
"Bulma! C'mon, class is starting."
"Right." Bulma followed 18 and sat next to her on the hot white sand.
"Welcome to the Special class, kids," said an extremely tan and extremely cute guy. He was tall and muscular, with black hair with blonde streaks. He had a pearly white smile and looked nice enough. He was wearing his swim trunks and a few girls in the class googled over him. "I'm Mr. Man, but over the years people have mentioned to me that sounds stupid, so if you prefer you can call me plan old Mr. M. I'm sure none of you know what this class is about, so I'll explain. It changes around so much that there isn't a definite subject to teach. For today, we will be discussing problems. In the winter I'm a social worker, so this is right up my alley." He began to pace back and forth. "I've noticed today some kids aren't accepting others because of the way they look. I know this camp is full of kids who are very different from each other. I've seen some teasing and I know that it might be hard to be friends with that kid because he's fat or ugly or stupid or can't do something as well as you. Well, in this class, we're going to discuss some of the reasons we feel we need to pick on kids and try and solve them."
A few of the guys in the room snorted, while some of the girls smiled dreamily at Mr. M and Bulma heard a faint, "he's so sensitive!" Bulma rolled her eyes. Some people . . .
"Alright, kids," Mr. M said happily, rubbing his hands together. "Let's get started. Ok, I have a question for you. Why do you pick on kids?" No one answered. "Oh, come on. Just shout out the reasons."
"Have you seen the way some people dress?"
"Good point, miss. Anyone else?"
"Ugly!"
"Some people don't know anything!"
"I hate people who are way too immature!"
"Ok, that's good. Think of those reasons. Some of you in this class were born pretty or handsome or smart or funny or any other good thing that society accepts. But what about those people who weren't born so cute or smart or funny? Can they help it? Is it their fault their hair isn't the way you think it should be? Can they do anything about having a hard time understanding things? No! It isn't their fault! What if I told you that I didn't like people that are short, or people with brown hair? Do you see how stupid that is? Yeah, I hate this one kid because his eyes are blue, not green like mine. They can't help it, so why do you have any right to pick on them? Someone, tell me. Anyone." The class was silent. (a/n: my thoughts exactly, Mr. M. *applauds*)
"This guy's good," 18 whispered to Bulma. She nodded.
"So you get the point, I hope. Now, another thing that disrupts this camp is fights. Friend fights, relationship fights, it's all there. I want you to think of one person you may be feuding with right now."
Vegeta.
Bulma.
"Good, you have it? Ok, if anyone would be so kind to volunteer to come up here and try and work it out with that person, I would be grateful and you'll be an automatic A for this session. They have to be in this room . . . anyone?"
Chichi leaned over and nudged Bulma in the side. "No Chichi," Bulma shot back. There was no way she wanted to discuss her feelings in front of 24 kids. To her absolute horror, Mr. M pointed at Bulma.
"I see your friend thinks you should come up here. Are you fighting with anyone right now?"
"No," Bulma said firmly.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I am."
Vegeta shot her a narrowed eyed look. So I suppose she thinks that I don't care and it's all better. Let's see how she likes this. "Yeah, she is. With me."
"Vegeta!" Bulma hissed. He wouldn't . . .
Mr. M turned towards Vegeta. "So, I see. Would you like to volunteer to come up here and try to sort this out?"
"Sure, I have nothing to hide."
"Thank you much. You're name, sir?"
"Vegeta. And that's Bulma," he said coldly. Bulma wished she had a gun. She would have pulled the trigger on herself.
"Both of you, come up here."
Bulma stood stiffly and walked up to the front. Why was he doing this? Did he want to embarrass her in front of the whole class? There was no doubt this would travel around camp in three seconds flat! She gave Vegeta a half angry, half questioning look. He only smiled sarcastically back. Bulma's heart sunk to her stomach. She had hurt him so much. She wanted to apologize, but she didn't want to in front of all these people! What if she started crying or something . . . oh, this could be bad.
"Now, what's the matter?"
Bulma didn't seem to want to talk, so Vegeta filled him in. "I asked her out, and she told me that what she wanted, and the next minute she was telling her friends that I was a over egotistic maniac. It's too bad she likes to rip people's hearts out, or she would be an ok girlfriend."
She didn't believe this. This was so out of character for Vegeta! How could he be doing this?!? To get back at you, stupid. That's the way he works. You hurt him, he'll have his revenge, a small voice in the back of her head sang. She took out a mental fly swatter and smashed it, but she knew it was right. In her despair, she over looked the fact that he had said if she didn't like to hurt people, she would have been a good girlfriend.
"I see," Mr. M said thoughtfully, "Is there any reason you said that, Miss Bulma?" All eyes on the beach turned to her. She wished the sand would suck her up.
"I really don't want to discuss this in front of everyone."
"What's the matter, woman? Don't want all the guys in here to know you're only a back stabber that's half way cute?"
His words really cut down deep. She bit her tongue and tried to keep her composure. "I . . . " She didn't trust herself to talk. She had made a huge mistake, and it cost her her heart, or the one that held it, at least. There was just too many people here . . . couldn't they all just go away?
"I know what her problem is, Mr. M. She thinks she's better then everyone else and that all the boys are just wrapped around her finger and she can say whatever she wants. Well guess what? I'm not going to fall for the same trap twice, and we would all benefit if she just went home to her rich family and her perfect life where everyone does whatever she wants and she can kill anyone's insides she desires."
"Knock it off!" Chichi yelled from the back. "Shut up, Vegeta! You're just too stupid to figure out she made a mistake! If you would have been there for the whole conversation you're thick head would have found out she loves you!"
"I would be quiet if I were you. You're mind doesn't extend far enough to actually know what love is, so just shut your mouth."
"Vegeta . . . " Goku said warningly when Bulma collapsed in a heap of tears onto the sand. She wished she could die.
"Look at her!" Chichi yelled furiously, "would she be heartbroken like this is she didn't care at least a little about you? Which is more then I can say concerning you're feelings, you stupid -- "
"Ok, I guess this is enough," Mr. M broke in. "You see, this is what is wrecking havoc in this camp, and I'm here to set things ri -- "
"That," Vegeta said stonily, pointing to Bulma, who was sobbing deadly on the sand, "is what is ruining this camp. We would be better off if all of that shit was killed at birth."
She couldn't take it anymore. 18 walked up to Bulma and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, lifting her into a warm embrace. Chichi joined, still wanting to wring Vegeta's neck, but trying to sooth one of her best friends.
"Alright, you know how this is going to work? I'm going to send just these two into the woods over there, and you're going to talk this out. Go."
Bulma didn't want to. All she want to do was run into the water and drown. But she got up and wiped her face with her hands, and followed their teacher to the woods.
"If you lay a hand on her," Chichi whispered lethally to Vegeta before they left, "I'll do anything in my power to kill you. Literally." He ignored her.
Bulma was glad to leave all the whispers and stares of the other kids, but she felt a sense for foreboding entering the forest. She was still sobbing, but what he said . . . loathing leaked out of every word. And loathing from Vegeta was something she couldn't bare. What was the point in talking to him? She would just do more damage.
Vegeta crossed his arms. She deserved that. But he was a bit puzzled at why she was crying. She's just a wuss, he told himself. She just couldn't handle the truth, that was all. She had said that, so why did she care so much? Who cares. She didn't care about him or anyone else except herself. What was there to talk about?
"Ok, you two. I can tell you're both hurting a lot. You have forty five minutes to work this out, and if you need more time, tell me. Make it better. Fix this problem. I know you can." He left them there to face each other.
"I don't know what he thinks this will accomplish," Vegeta said stoically, sitting down on a stump. "There's nothing to talk about. I heard you. You said you hated me, so what's the point?"
Bulma felt tears coming again, but she had a sudden determination to go on. "But you didn't hear the whole thing. I . . . I don't hate you at all. The total opposite. Vegeta . . . I . . . "
"Then why did you say that?" he said angrily.
Bulma sat down on the ground. "I said that's what I was supposed to feel like. I didn't say that's what I did feel. I was telling Chichi and 18 how ironic it was that I didn't feel that way after how you were a jerk to me."
"And you think I'm going to believe you?"
"I don't know any other way of telling you. I know I made a mistake by even thinking that was the way I was supposed to feel, and I would trade anything in the world to go back and change that, but I can't."
"I hope you didn't expect me to actually accept that story."
"Vegeta, I don't know how to convince you!"
"I don't need convincing you meant that."
"But that's the thing, I didn't mean it! I . . . " Bulma stopped and put her face in her hands. She thought of one last way to maybe convince him, but she didn't know if she could . . .
"Well, I guess we're all sorted out now, so I'm going back . . . "
"Vegeta, I love you. I really do." That stopped him dead in his tracks. Why would she say that? Their personalities were so much alike . . . he would never say that, even if he did love someone. Why would she risk her pride to say something that didn't even matter to her? Was she actually sincere?
"How am I supposed to know that?"
Bulma broke down again. She thought that would work. There was nothing left. She brought her knees up and cried heavily. How could she screw something up so badly? "It hurts so much," she whispered through strangled tears.
Was she really serious? How could he know? What was left of his cold heart screamed at him to go comfort her . . . but he couldn't do that! She . . . she hated him, right? Then why was she crying so hard? She had to be serious. Her silent sobbing was filled with despair. He didn't like to see her cry. He walked over to the little fairy crying on the ground and sat down.
"I know it hurts."
Mwah hahahahahahaha and . . . ha. Maybe has our little Vegeta made a turn around? We'll just have to wait and see! Ok, the thought came to me that maybe things were just a little too over dramatic. But my thoughts are that it would take more then just a little crush to bring these two personalities together. I mean, they are both stubborn and prideful and all that junk, so why would they put that all away to persue a little fling? See what I mean? Someone ever ask you why you liked someone, and you had no definite reason? That's kind of what this is like. They don't really know why they like each other so much, but they do. They just do. (kind of why kids like apple jacks when they don't taste like apples. They just do. Hehe . . . ) anyway, keep out of the cookies and try not to look too much like a bus toilet, and stay tuned . . .
DarkStar
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www.geocities.com/escape_into_love/index.html
cya!