Garfield thought that thinking the sky was pretty was pretty dumb. There's nothing to look at anymore except a bland blue. It sometimes changed colour—blue, pink, orange, purple, yellow, grey, and black—but only people who sit out by the bay long enough could see it. He thought bitterly about all those boring people that liked to park their cars on the beach across the Titans tower and watching the reflection of the setting sun in the water and tower; he'd never admit that he was a bit jealous because he no longer had the time to frolic about. Thanksgiving weekend was ending too soon for his laid-back taste.

The sky was pretty, deep, beautiful, plain, ugly, extravagant, or whatever enthralling meant. It was like Lescon High, the pinwheel dangling by his window, the remnants of the blue fuzz in the fridge, and the disgusting boxers underneath the bleachers in the fourth-floor gym. It was just there.

Garfield realized that sometimes, things that are there shouldn't be. It was such a confusing epiphany to have his already crammed head wrapped around, but the more he thought about it, the more this concept terrified himself. For instance, the bacon in the griddle was there every morning. That meat should be still on the pig, not smoking up the whole room til Garfield's nostrils tinged. There was also that English project that sat on his bedroom floor—misplaced, forgotten, irrelevant. And Rachel's skirt-clad legs crossed over the heap of stones that formed a cliff by the bay. Her legs didn't belong there.

But he let it slide because he felt slightly bad for bringing down both their English grades by pettily forgetting the project. Although, she still didn't belong where she was at the moment—cross-legged with her jacket under her thighs to prevent the shards of rock from cutting her up.

Garfield still didn't know why she was there. It was barely the brink of the early morning, and he had offered to take her to school if she came over to work on their project. He expected to take her up to his room, far from the cold bedroom her hands touched, and finish up the short story they had been working on. But she seemed insistent on not entering the tower.

Rachel's head turned towards the coastal waters that sloshed against the beach violently. "It must be very nice to live out here."

"Yeah, I guess." He didn't have much to say that day.

Her hand, delicate and lithe, brushed a lock of hair on the front of her face, covering his view of the slope of her nose, the hood of her eyes, and her Cupid's bow. She said, "Is there a reason you brought me out here?"

"I didn't."

"I'm wearing new combat boots, Garfield. They're very uncomfortable to climb rocks in."

"I'm sorry about that. No one really walks here, and I'm usually flying before I land on this spot," said Garfield.

His words slowly died out as his friend swiftly turned around to face him head-on. Rachel's mouth was fixed into a frown, and her eyelids hung sleepily, covering an otherwise clear view of her irises. He couldn't tell if her mouth moved at all while she talked. "What's wrong?"

He backed away from her face and turned away. There was a burning sensation that flooded his cheeks, creeping into the outer corners of his eyes. It trickled into his nose and onto his lips that couldn't move.

"Garfield, I could feel the heat in your hand when you dragged me up here. If you're angry, let's talk about it." Her hand approached the edge of his hairline, brushing the lock of blond away. He kept feeling a static buzz wherever her hand left, and it annoyed him that his face continued to heat up. He wanted to clutch his ears as she continued to talk because his ears thrummed at the sound of her husky, soft voice. "I can listen."

That burning sensation stopped dead in its tracks, launching Garfield into a shivering frenzy as he couldn't pry himself off of Rachel's lips. They were just there, and they looked so glossy and perfect, and he couldn't help but mess up whatever flavour of lip gloss she had on that day. And because it was just there, he thought he could tamper with it, because no one should dangle candy in front of a child's face and expect him to not at least take a lick.

His eyes were glued shut as he followed his first kiss with an onslaught of smaller pecks down the curve of Rachel's jaw and the base of her neck. Finally resting his hot face against her heating neck, Garfield shifted his arms to encircle her waist as he knelt closer to her form.

The air had been knocked out of his chest as he couldn't breathe. His words fumbled out like toys from a bin. "I'm sorry. You're very pretty, and I couldn't help myself."

"It's fine." Her throat moved against the taut skin of his neck. As her collarbones flexed, Garfield could feel the heat in his eyes evaporate into his forehead.

"Can, can I do it again?" He couldn't wait for a coherent response from Rachel. The cooling on his lips reminded him of what had happened. It was aggravating having to wait minutes, seconds, milliseconds when he could just kiss her at that very moment.

So he did.

The penny felt cold in between his calloused fingers. It's ridges felt almost invisible underneath the thick coat of sweat under his padded thumb. The penny was a slimy piece of corn fresh off of Cyborg's mouth as he devoured the vegetable every hot summer's day.

Abe Lincoln with his scruffy full glory stared at the open air as if he were in deep thought. There were many things to think about that day. Garfield didn't realize that until it was too late, and he was facing her back head-on.

As his tongue slathered over his chapped lips, he relished the relief and felt a cooling sensation trickle down his spine. Then a weight set in, forcing his bottom lip into a pout as the heaviness of it all dawned on him.

He was the 'dumb' one for a reason because Garfield couldn't handle all this thinking about serious things like death, destiny, and desire. It was all too much for his mind. There was only so much he could fit in there before his head overflowed, spilling out all these regrets and regressions he had spent so long trying to contain.

Although, he did remember fumbling as he handed her the penny, steely and hot.

Her gasping for air woke him up. Rachel coughed into the crook of her elbow, pushing him away with her other arm. Garfield caught a glimpse of her faint blush and slitted eyes with dark irises that peeked through the bed of lashes.

"You look like you're about to faint."

"That's because I am." She muttered, twisting her hips around to stare at the bay. "If I knew you were that strong, I would've made sure to keep my distance."

"Oh, sorry about that," he says, patting her arm sheepishly. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Someone I knew before." He knew talking about other girls in front of a girl was a mood killer.

Garfield wanted to take his words back a notch, but Rachel replied, "Is she pretty too?" Her words weren't suspecting as much as they were teasing, enticing, and maybe even a bit stirring.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't actually remember what she looks like."

"Does it bother you?"

"I've known her for years. Of course it bothers me," says Garfield, recklessly chucking a flat rock into the bay. It shattered on the beach, scattering pebbles into the crashing waves. "It kinda pisses me off, to be honest with you."

"Have you ever thought about seeing her again?" Garfield pretended not to see Rachel's pursed lips, so cold and closed off.

"I don't think I have a choice in that matter."

"Why not? You know Batman's protégé and an entire universe full of superheroes."

Garfield startled himself as he yelled, "Maybe she doesn't want to be found!" Rachel sat still on the rocks, slowly turning further away from him as her jacket shifted. He gulped nervously and said in a hushed voice, "Besides, I don't really want to talk about superheroes. I have to live with three idiotic ones already."

"Don't say that," said Rachel harshly. Her eyebrows fixed into an arch that reminded Garfield of Robin. "You're very lucky you have them."

"Yeah maybe, but it doesn't seem like they feel that way with me. You'd get pretty sick of all the complaining, and pretending, and ignoring. I try letting them be stupid, but it's hard watching them live like nothing happened."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Rachel said, "what happened?"

"Everything and nothing according to them." Garfield coughs into the air from the dryness in his throat. "I hate it when they don't listen to me like I'm stupid. I'm not a nerd and read shit, but I know a lot of things they don't. Like how people go away. I've seen it too many times; it's too predictable. Everyone gets their own personal problems and ignores them for the sake of everyone else, and soon the world keeps turning and no one can keep up. That's how the team will break up."

"They'll grow out of it and want to pursue something more in life?"

"Nah, no one really wants that." He waved his flimsy hand, numb from gripping Rachel so tightly. "Its gonna be from all the buried feelings. That's what's wrong with us. We all think that keeping our problems bottled up will make it all go away. But sooner or later, Star and Robin will break up, Cy will go off in a tangent, and I'll be left depressed and lonely like always. But I'm used to it."

"What, watching your friends self destruct?"

"Not exactly. I'm used to knowing everything shitty going on because no one thinks that I'll take them seriously when they come crying to me. But it's hard not to think about it too much."

"You're sure they don't talk to each other about it?"

"Absolutely. Ever since she left, it's always me. I'm no empath, and I'm obviously not a therapist. But I can keep my mouth shut long enough that it seems like I don't care," Garfield grumbled. He wanted to keep ranting, but he waited for Rachel to say something back. She didn't respond.

He sighed into the misty air, leaning his head back onto the flat of the largest boulder he sat on. A stream of yellow light flooded his vision, assumingly from the rising sun. But as he shut his eyes, Garfield began to panic and the yellow stain remained. It encroached every corner of his sight until he was nearly blinded.

Leaping into the air and into the form of whatever flying creature he thought of this time, Garfield let himself glide through the cooling wind. The heat grew unbearable in his slick feathers, and soon he was plummeting into the ocean. As he broke the rhythm of the waves with a CRASH, salty water burned the tip of his tongue. He let out a gasp at the sudden pressure and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

Suddenly, lithe arms encircled him, hugging him tightly to a feminine chest, neck, and face. The arms dragged him onto the rocky beach; the corresponding voice grunted as he laid on her thighs.

His eyes burned as they flew wide open, drinking in the sight of her mouth hovering over his own. She backed away, muttering about not needing to do something. Her eyes crinkled when she wiped the sticky gloss off her lips.

Garfield took the sudden opportunity to yank her down and kiss her.

Something about kissing Rachel so suddenly felt liberating, especially on this certain cliff made of chipped stones and crunchy pebbles. The only two times he actually remembered being there was with girls who he wished he could forget. They went away one after the other, and something about Rachel made Garfield more okay with kissing her. Maybe it was because she were just a human, who probably couldn't hide under a secret identity or choke him to death with a wave of a hand.

Rachel was down to earth, soothing, and someone he would have imagined himself being attracted to. She made him wish he was also human, so he could walk her home every day, meet her family, spend the holidays at her place, and not worry about someone slashing her body and leaving her blood of drain.

This is a short summary of my thoughts about this chapter.

I wrote this way too soon. I should've waited until the climax, but my dumbass couldn't help it. Unfortunately, writing this scene kept reminding me of that comic where BB is watching Raven sleep as a bird, and Wondergirl bursts into the room and acts like everything isn't a big deal. That scene and this chapter made me feel so flustered and embarrassed; I used to think I'd be a good romance author, but that all flew out the window. I really need to update more often now that I have so much time on my hands.

-Catisa~Orsilla