Sorry for the wait, if anybody minded. Damn you, homework! Stop holding me back from my internet addiction!

Anyways.

I thought I'd try something new in this chapter. I swear I'll update by at least Tuesday. I'm really sorry if you don't like the writing for this one- I've been having major writers block, lately. Stupid brain.

Thanks for reading, guys! =)


Walking with Chikorita in the tall grass on Route 29, I tried to convince myself that I wasn't having fun. I mean, what could be fun about trekking around knee-deep in foliage on an old, overgrown road? Weak but fierce little pokemon ambushed us constantly under the Saturday morning sun, most of them very disturbed rattata thirsting for our (my) blood. We had hit a dry-spell for the last three minutes or so it seemed, and Chikorita and I were left to trudge about in circles, looking for new opponents. I just couldn't believe myself. I had homework to do, essays to write, and here I was, mucking out in the freshly-damp soil and grass, getting dirty and fighting off feral animals. How in the hell could anyone find this rewarding, let alone entertaining?

No, better question: how was I?

"Maybe we should walk in deeper, do you think?" I asked Chikorita, a bit dizzy with new thoughts and strategies calculating in my mind. We had been training for hours, for days now, and Chikorita was already leveling up at top speed. I was getting used to planning out his attacks for certain enemies- a strong tackle, quickly followed by a razor-leaf for rattatas, several tackles in a row for pidgeys...

"Chi, chika!" Chikorita responded eagerly. He looked up at me, grinning. I hadn't known that pokemon could smile until my first night with him. The thought of Mr. Happy ever smirking at me, leering above his little pendulum as he stood over my bed...

I shivered violently, and Chikorita began squeaking in concern, smacking my shin with his leaf. He was getting better at controlling it; he adored swinging his leaf above his head in the mornings to show off in front of my mother's venasaur, Polly. Mom had been right: they got along better than I would have ever imagined, even despite their size difference. Polly carried Chikorita around like a baby with her vines, rocking him to sleep or keeping him safe from a particular sneasel my mother had caught last year. The little demon simply adored sneaking up behind Chikorita with its razor-sharp, icy claws...

A pidgey descended from a nearby tree, squawking angrily at me as it wavered its wings in the air, threatened. I stared at it. There were no nests in sight. What on earth was it so upset about?

"Pidge! PIDGEY! Pid Pid Pid-"

Before I could even think, Chikorita had already sent a flurry of leaves at the flustered little bird, pelting its feathers with its signature grass-attack. I sighed. Chikorita was the type to fight first and ask questions later. This had already accounted for nearly half of the battles we had today. The pidgey shirked off most of the leaves, now completely enraged. I watched in amusement as it tried to pluck a rather sharp, sticky leaf from its wing, screeching at us in frustration. Chikorita stood straight, proud of himself, and turned to me for encouragement. "Um, good job, buddy." I said, a bit reserved. "I mean, I'm the one who's supposed to tell you when to attack, but you know, it's not like I mind, or anything..."

I could've sworn that the little monster had rolled its eyes at me before focusing once more on the pidgey. But it was gone; the patch of grass before us was empty. It must have wandered off when we weren't paying attention...

"Chik-chik-chik!!!" Chikorita snapped, twisting his tiny stem in irritation. He hated when an enemy got away; it was a waste of experience. When Chikorita fought, he was determined to fight till the end.

I took a quick look down at my jeans (they were torn, damp, and covered in dirt) before unceremoniously plucking Chikorita up from the ground and holding him at my side. "C'mon, boy." I muttered, ignoring his angry squirming and yelps. "That's enough for today. Now I've got homework, a shower, and laundry to do tonight."

"Chikchikchikchikchik-" Chikorita wiggled desperately in my grasp. I took a good look at his tiny light-green scales, noticing the good layer of grime on them. Damn those pidgey and their sand-attacks..."You're getting a shower too, methinks." I told him, matter-of-fact. He quickly stopped writhing and lay limp in my arms, his expression defeated. While he didn't mind baths, he did mind the strawberry-scented pokeshampoo Mom had bought him as a welcoming present. "Chi." He whimpered.

I marched home with Chikorita, victorious.


Later that night, I was completely content to do my homework on the couch with Chikorita when my cellphone rang. At first I didn't even bother to check it, instead concentrating on a particularly hard math problem. Negative five to the square root of five squared, minus negative four, multiplied by 10...

"Chik! Chikor, chik chik!" Chikorita whined, poking at my side with his leaf. I looked down impatiently. "What, Chikorita?" I asked, my eyes straying back to the homework sheet. "Can't you see I'm doing algebra, here? I mean, unless you know where the calculator is, this had better be important..."

Chikorita pulled my phone out of my pocket, holding it up to me in his mouth. I could tell by his face that he wasn't very fond of the taste of plastic. Trying to humor him I picked up my cell, half-convinced that it would only be a casual text-message from one of my friends from school, or maybe even one of my cousins from Kanto. Surely nothing important...

And then I looked at the name, blinking up on the little blue screen in bold-black letters. I stared at it in a daze. I thought I had deleted his name from my address book ages ago...two years, to be exact. It had been three whole years without a word from him. So why was he calling now?

Chikorita eyed my vacant expression with alarm, nudging my elbow in concern. "Chi!" He quipped, snapping me out of my thoughts. I gave him a comforting pat of the head as I stared at my phone again, debating on what to do. Should I answer, or shouldn't I? Should I? Could I? Chikorita nipped at my finger pressing down on the phone case, urging me on with a curious look.

I flipped open the phone and held it up to my ear numbly, waiting for the voice that I was dreading and longing to hear. Tyler.

"Uh, hey, Lucy?" I heard him ask, his voice a bit muffled by static. He sounded so much different-almost alien, coming from my phone's crappy little speakers. "Lucy, you there? It's me."

I cleared my throat, trying not to sound too off-guard. Too hurt. "Hi, Tyler." I muttered, lamely. "Long time, no speak..."

My ex-best friend had called me at last.