"No way!" Zara gasped in shock.
"Yes way." I replied grimly, holding the phone receiver to my left ear, sitting placidly on the floor of my closet.
"I can't believe you! You little…" She trailed away, completely lost for words.
"I know." I sighed heavily. "I've been practically living in my closet for the past three days."
"Well you'll have to come out sometime. Seeing the sun will do you some good."
"I don't know about that." I grumbled. "But if you insist."
"I do insist. I'll meet you at the park in an hour."
"Fine." I muttered. "Just…promise me you won't spread it around to everyone, ok? I don't know for sure, but I think Trunks is in some sort of trouble. I don't want to make things worse."
"Have you seen him recently?"
"Not since three days ago. And I don't want to." I said. "I've been hiding out in my room, and only leaving to get food after dark. I told Bulma I'm sick. My plan is to just avoid him until it's all over…you know, with Elijah…"
"I know." She said gravely. "So, I'll see you soon."
"Yeah." I smiled. "Soon."
I hung up, and scrambled out of the closet, replacing the receiver and taking a spare sheet of paper from the desk draw. Seizing a pen, I hurriedly scribbled a note to Bulma:
Bulma,
I'm feeling a lot better, so I've gone out to get some fresh air. I'll be back later.
Pan
I left it sitting on the desk, in case she should come in and find me missing. I then changed out of my pyjamas and into a pair of white board shorts and a bright yellow surfing shirt, tying a yellow bandana around my head. I stuffed my feet into my worn thongs, taking my wallet filled with a fresh set of spending money, and the house key Bulma had given me upon arrival. I then left the house as quickly as possible, and hurried down the pavement in the direction of the park.
I don't know why I told Zara about Trunks three days after the incident. Those days were spent, as I had told her, hiding in my room and spending most of the time sitting in my closet, thinking about Trunks, and about Elijah. I had not felt up to facing anyone until today, and because I had no one else to talk to, and also because I trusted her so much, I had called Zara. But, much to my dismay, this bond of trust was almost broken when I arrived at the park and saw Zara waiting for me on the bench beside the playground, with Mason at her side.
"What's he doing here?" I scowled.
"I was invited, Panny Pan." Mason beamed brightly. Too brightly for my taste.
"By who?"
"By me." Zara retorted. "Mason's here to help you sort out your love problem."
"What!?" I gawked, staring between them in shock. "Zara, you told him?"
"Well, he was going to find out soon, anyway." She mumbled, her cheeks reddening, for once changing her naturally ultra pale complexion.
"Zara Black, this is the lowliest thing you've ever done, including the time you egged my dad's car back in grade seven before you knew he was my dad. I can't believe you, you-"
"Alright, let's not get too carried away. She was only trying to help." Mason reasoned. "Besides, she came to the right guy."
"Oh really?" I asked sarcastically, quirking one, sleek black eyebrow. "How so?"
"I'm an expert on love." He said proudly, buffing out his chest and causing Zara to giggle. I could hardly believe it. Zara? Giggle? God, what was happening to the world? "I know everything. From high school relationships, to crushes, to marriage, to divorce. I've seen it all. So you can ask me anything."
"I'm not in love, Mason." I frowned. "It was a one time thing. And what makes you say you know all this anyway?"
"I have one mother, one father, one step-mother, one step-father, one teenage sister, one teenage brother, one younger step-sister, and one younger brother. Therefore, I've witness a relationship stage from every angle, from my parents divorce to my little step-sister's first crush." He grinned. "How did you think I became such a ladies magnet? These things don't happen overnight."
"Well, I don't need your help." I reasoned. "I'm just going to hide from him until I can go home."
"That could be years away!" Mason exclaimed.
"No, not really. According to the doctors, I should only be stuck here until the end of the summer. Unless we're lucky….then he might have more time." I said sadly, turning away so they wouldn't see the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Pan." Zara murmured sometime later.
"Yeah." Mason added. "Sorry."
The park behind them was bustling with life. It was a sunny day, and parents had brought their young children down to the park for the day. Picnic baskets had been placed under trees, and parents and grandparents sprawled across rugs, lazing about and enjoying the afternoon sunshine, while their children and grandchildren ran about between the trees and played together in the playground, shouting and laughing without a care in the world.
I wished I could be that age again. Elijah's age. You were so naïve, didn't understand, didn't care, and didn't have any worries. Your biggest concern was falling over and grazing your knee, but then all you had to do was get up again, dry your tears and play some more. It was almost like life, in a way. Sometimes it would knock you down, and if you stayed down and cried forever in the dirt, then you would never be able to get up and play again. You had to dry your tears…had to move on…had to live.
I was still stuck down in the dirt, as much as I would try to deny it. And I couldn't get up…wouldn't be able to on my own. I needed someone to help me, someone to hold my hand and pick me up off the ground. Someone to bandage the graze on my knee and hold me until they heeled, and then watch me play until they were sure that I would be able to look after myself.
This park was my park. Our park. The park Trunks took me to as a child. A place that held so many memories for me…some painful now, when I looked back on them, after all that had happened. It said too much, spoke of too many things I'd rather forget. It was then that I decided that I could never return to this park again.
"Listen, I have to go." I said after enduring it for a solid hour. "Bulma will be wondering where I am."
"Remember, I'm just a phone call away if you need me." Zara said comfortingly.
"Yeah. Me too." Mason added.
"Thanks, but I'll be fine." I waved, then darted out of the park as fast as I possibly could.
"Just talk to the guy!" I heard Mason shout from behind me. "Otherwise, you'll never work things out."
I ignored him, and didn't stop running until I'd arrived back at Capsule corp. Bulma was in the front entrance when I opened the door, dressed in a short beige skirt and black shirt, bringing an unusual contrast to her normally bland skin. She was speaking to someone on the phone, and I was about to slip past her when she held out a hand to stop me.
"Yes….yes, I know…..no, not at all. She's been a pleasure….no, she doesn't know…..do you think so?….alright….alright, you know best…..are you sure that there's…..no?….but surely they…..oh….oh, ok…..well, send everyone my love….yes, I'll tell her you called…..ok….bye, dear."
She hung up, and turned to face me with a watery smile. I returned it shortly, overloaded with curiosity by her one side of the conversation.
"Who was that?" I eventually had to ask.
"Oh, no one really. It doesn't concern you anyway." She smiled again. A smile that made my wary. "How are you? I've hardly seen you these past three days."
"Did you see the note?" I asked.
She nodded. "Very thoughtful of you. But next time you go out, I'd like it if you'd tell me in person first, ok?"
"I'll try to remember." I said.
"I've made a big dinner, with a chicken rissole that has your name on it."
"No thanks, I'm not hungry."
"Don't tell me you've been out there eating junk food all day, Pan? I won't have you spend the money I give you on bad food. Your grandma Chi-Chi would hate me if I did."
"No, I haven't been eating junk food." I said truthfully. I really hadn't been eating at all, which was highly unusual for someone with Sayian blood.
"Then why don't you come to dinner? It would mean a lot to me if you did." Bulma almost pleaded.
I couldn't get out of it. I obviously didn't look sick to her anymore, and in truth, I was a little hungry. So I allowed her to lead me into the dining room, and sit me in a chair directly opposite Trunks. He was still dressed from work, as usual, in that awful brown pinstripe suit, with his head bent and wisps of lavender hair falling into his face as he busied himself with cutting through his meal. He didn't look at me.
"So," Said Bulma once she'd finished dishing up the chicken rissole to everyone at the table. It was times like these that I found myself missing Videl and Chi-Chi's cooking sorely. "How was work today, Trunks?"
"Same as ever." He said through a mouthful of food, still insisting on keeping his eyes down. There was something dark in the way he spoke….not soft, but sharp and cruel…not like him at all.
"Anything interesting happen?"
"No." He muttered bitterly. "Oh, I fired Amanda."
"Why? She's always been such a lovely girl!" Bulma cried. Trunks ignored her, bringing his face closer to his plate, which only added to Bulma's annoyance. "Oh Trunks, lift your head up will you? I can't see your beautiful eyes."
"Look Mum, just leave me alone, ok?" He shot to her, eyeing her darkly.
"Bitter, bitter, bitter." Bulma shook her head in dismay, stabbing her food with her fork. "I swear, you'd think he was going through puberty again. He's been like this these past few days. Do you have any idea what's gotten into him, Pan?"
I shook my head violently, and took a long sip of water to hide the red tinge in my cheeks. Bulma shrugged, and decided to try pleasant conversation with Vegeta instead.
"How's the training going, dear?"
"Don't you 'dear' me, woman. I'm no animal." He spat back, spraying food across the table.
"Well you certainly do act like it most of the time." She sighed. "Anyway, I asked you how the training was going."
"Fine." He said shortly. "Now can you shut up? Some of us are trying to eat!"
"Can you believe that it's like this every dinnertime?" She said to me. "Honestly, you can't get a decent conversation out of these two. It was the same when Bra was still living with us…back before she was married, of course. Dinner conversation always ended up revolving around slave labor in one way or another."
Vegeta grunted in annoyance, stuffed a pile of food onto his plate, picked it up and stalked off. Bulma sighed, holding a hand to her forehead and massaging her temple. I smiled, and checked to see if Trunks was smiling too. He was looking directly at me, but lowered his gaze the second I turned my head. He hadn't smiled at all.
"Can you pass the ketchup, Pan-Chan?" He asked me dully, conveying no emotion at all.
I passed him the ketchup bottle with a shaky hand, nearly dropping it in Bulma's homemade salad. There was no kind smile accompanying his words, no usual sly wink, not even a word of thanks when he received the bottle. In fact, I was sure he wouldn't have even spoken to me if he hadn't wanted the ketchup.
And he'd gone back to calling me Pan-Chan.
