With her thumb, Marron pushed the capsule button down and tossed it out in the open. It landed in the middle of the field and I don't know what other way to describe what happened, but it exploded and a plume of smoke started spreading. I coughed because something tickled the back of my throat and closed my eyes so they wouldn't be affected too.
"Wow, would you look at that?" Bulla cried. Her voice was full of excitement –a tone I haven't heard since we escaped the modeling academy. I opened my eyes to see for myself and fair enough, it was really something to admire. How could Goten give us this luxuriating home?
I squealed and ran in place all for the joy of having to not sleep behind a bush or up in a tree or using newspaper for blankets. I guess this is the feeling what people call 'like opening a Christmas present', whatever this Christmas was. Christmas for us used to be about dressing up like a woman version of Santa Claus, whoever that poor man was. We used to draw doodles all over the Christmas magazines, jealous of the kids who were home with their families. Oh, Christmas. . .
The house was white with little windows. It had a prism-like shape and a wooden door which didn't fit with the picture, but hey, it's a house!
I walked as fast as I could to the front step and stood there, inhaling it all in. It was amazing.
"Oh my gosh!" Bulla cried. I quickly looked over, panicked. Something was wrong.
"What?!" I shouted back, tense.
There was definitely something wrong, I could feel it in the atmosphere.
"This place has a cute doorbell!" said Bulla as she pushed the doorbell. From outside, we heard the boring chime that sounded like waiting room music.
I shook my head. I was too happy to be yelling at my best friend.
I know Marron's trying to hide it, but it's obvious she loves the house too. I can see the glint in her eyes as she looks at the building. With that, I opened the door, grabbed Marron and Bulla's wrists, and hurled them inside. I closed the door with my feet.
"What was that for?" Marron asked, irritated. She sat on the tiled floors and rubbed her arm, but one look in the house and Marron's expression became dumb-founded.
There was everything in there. A full kitchen, equipped with the latest refrigerator, microwave, and the rest of the kitchen appliances. There was a beautiful granite island in the center, making everything look as if it came straight out of a magazine.
In the living room, it was decorated with two two-person leather sofas and a built-in flat-screen TV that I was dying to use for the first time. The glass coffee table and abstract artwork made it feel cozy. Maybe it was that, or the fire in the fireplace.
"I call dibs on this room!" Bulla called as she ran down the hallway to claim a room. "Never mind, that one's too small. I call this one!" I saw her run out of one room to the other, but then changed rooms again.
"Take off your shoes, Bulla!" Marron ordered. She sounds exactly how Moms would sound, just more Marron-like. She wants everything picture-perfect. I don't know how I've survived this long with her.
I slipped off my black flats, picked them up, and jogged to claim my own room before Marron. I made a sharp turn into one of the rooms with an open door and it turned out to be the bathroom.
Behind me, Marron nudged me and smirked, "Think about claiming the bathroom, aren't ya?"
I stuck my tongue at her and she let out a laugh. A real laugh.
The last bedroom that was unoccupied was to be mine. I was too late, sadly, but I kind of liked this room. The walls are painted a soft sky blue with large windows and white assorted fabric curtains. The bed was placed in the far corner of the room with a scenery of the sky bed sheets accompanied by white fluffy pillows. A nightstand stood by with an adjustable lamp. The desk and dresser stood alone on the opposite corners and, to top it off, a white fluffy rug was set in the middle of the room. This bedroom made me feel free, like I'm flying.
The first thing I did and needed was a shower. I don't know how I managed to survive after a week of not showering, but I did. I'm a tough girl. Insert me flexing here.
I checked the closet to see if there were any clothes that I could fit in. Normally, when you open a closet, they do not scan your body, head to toe, but of course, these high-tech closets do. What have they been coming up with these days?
After the green beam of light stopped, a monotone voice said, "Welcome. What is your name?"
I freaked out, to be honest. Saved by the thick rug when I fell backwards, I was thankful.
"My name is Pan. . ." I mumbled, hoping the computer didn't catch it, but it did.
At first, I thought this was some trick that was planned by Goten, but I shook it out of my head. I don't want to think like Marron!
"Welcome to your wardrobe, Pan. Select your clothes," the female monotone voice said. I blinked several times, trying to figure out what they meant. There was nothing in the closet. How was I supposed to pick anything?!
"Pan, did you check out your closet yet?" asked Bulla as she peeked through my doorway. "It's ab-so-lutely awesome!" she said except she made 'awesome' sound more dramatic than it should be.
"I still can't figure it out," I admitted. I let out a sigh and Bulla came marching in.
"It's super easy. Just stand in front of the mirror and say 'next' if you don't like the outfit," Bulla explained. She looked at the mirror on the closet door that I haven't noticed before.
"Where'd ya learn that?" I asked, standing up.
"I read the instructions. . ." Bulla said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I raised an eyebrow. I didn't see any instructions!
She pointed to the desk. I overlooked it and saw a manual that read in big black block letters 'CLOSET MANUAL'. I frowned.
Bulla giggled and left the room.
I walked in front of the mirror, far enough so I could see my full-scale self. My hair was a mess, all tangled in knots and I looked like I've been living in the streets for days, which is absolutely true.
Slowly, I changed –the reflection in the mirror changed and I stared in awe as I was wearing Capri-cut cargo pants with many pockets. I had a black long-sleeve shirt with a jean vest that sort of went along with my pants. I had black high-top converse and my short hair was neat and tidy.
Maybe computer fashionistas have good taste after all.
"I like this one," I said to myself and it was meant to be for myself, but the computer worked its magic and somehow managed to create those clothes and had it ready to use on my bed. I was impressed.
I scooped them up, messing up the neat pile it came in.
"Have a nice day, Pan," the monotone voice said.
"You too," I paused, not knowing what to call it.
"My name is CCD," she said.
I stood in my doorway.
"Nah, I'll just call you Cece," I said and I walked into the bathroom which was already full of steam. The mirrors were covered a thin layer of water. It smelled like lavender.
After I exited the bathroom, Marron and Bulla were already at the granite island eating. Bulla had a towel wrapped around her hair and her skin was clearer and not smudged in dirt. Marron's wavy hair was dry and set on her shoulders, but she swept them back as she ate her pasta.
"Hey," I greeted as I took a seat on one of the barstools.
"Hi," Bulla said with her mouth full.
"Hello," said Marron. She twirled her spaghetti around her fork and savored every bit of it. "This is some high-tech stuff Goten's got here. No wonder Capsule Corporation is the number one distributor in the world."
I nod, not interested in anything she's saying. The only thoughts I were processing was pasta, pasta, pasta! Honest.
Eating like I've never eaten before, I chowed down on my share of the pasta. My face was dotted with tomato sauce and I think a noodle went up my nose when I was finished. I looked at Marron and then at Bulla. Almost at the exact same time, their eyes twitched.
I grinned and held out my plate for another serving, which Marron retrieved from the pot for me.
"We're going to have to change our appearances," Marron said as she played around with her pasta. How could she not want to gobble this stuff up? It was mouth-watering to even see it.
"Okay," Bulla said like she was looking forward to it this whole entire time. "I want to dye my hair pink and get white contacts and make people think I'm blind!" I looked at her curiously.
"But Goten already knows you're not blind," I pointed out. She frowned. I ruined her happiness. "Plus, we can't blow your cover, Bulla. We're going to have to call you 'Celeste', right?"
I looked at Marron, hoping for a nod of approval and she did.
After she took out the fork from her mouth, she told us, "We don't know who this imposter is, calling herself 'Bulla', but it's got to be someone who knows us directly. No one knows us at all. Except. . . Nah. That's impossible." She tried to shrug off the thought, but I was already hooked in.
"Except what?" I pressed.
Marron shrugged.
"Tell me! Or I'll chuck my meatballs at you!" I said, raising my fork up with a meatball loosely attached to the end.
Marron's eyes widened and held her hands up in defense. "Okay, okay, have it your way, Ms. Burger Queen," Marron said. That was offensive now I think about it! "I just thought maybe" –I took a chug of my water –"someone else from the academy escaped too." I spit out my water in a form they have on the hose –mist –all over Marron's face.
"WHAT?!" I shouted. "Sorry."
She glared daggers at me, but I smiled nervously.
"Then who might it be?" Bulla thought out loud. "Everyone knows everyone there, so it could be anyone impersonating me."
I nod, trying to put on a serious face, but epically failed. I burst out laughing again because of Marron's expression.
"We'll find that out later," Marron began. "First, we need to disguise ourselves. We'll just tell Goten we got a makeover so he won't suspect us. Plus, he's too clueless to even notice we've changed."
Somehow, I took it as an offense, but kept my mouth zipped.
"Okay," Bulla said.
"Now that dinner's over, who's doing the dishes? Not me!" Marron yelled. She dashed off to her room, leaving her porcelain plate wobbling and spinning around on the table.
Before I could react, Bulla called, "Not me!"
So that's how my first night in a real home ended –me doing the dirty work.
"I'm tired!" I whined for the ten-zillionth time.
"Oh, come on, Pan," Bulla said, "Think of it as training!" Bulla sat on the sofa painting her toenails neon pink and simultaneously watching a Disney show.
"Training?! For what?!"
"Your fighting skills."
I groaned.
Marron sat on the other sofa with her feet tucked on the sofa as well. She was flipping through a magazine she had gotten from her room.
Her head popped up from the magazine and her expression was bright.
"How about we attend school?" Marron asked. She turned the magazine around and showed us a picture of a big cream-colored building of Orange Star High School.
"NO!" I shouted, already paranoid of the thought of going to school again. In addition, there was a bunch of problems with that. I can't spell, I can't do math, I can't read. Then what the potato chips was I going to do at that flippin' school?!
"I think it's a great idea! I just finished watching a high school show and it seems cool," Bulla piped up happily. Why was everyone against me today?
"Then we'll start tomorrow, what do you think?" Marron said cheerfully.
"I feel like I'm dying," I said. I rinsed the very last dish and set it on the rack.
"Pan, you know there's a dishwasher for a reason," said Marron, sounding like monotone Cece.
"WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME BEFORE?!"
Marron and Bulla just chuckled.