VI
"I don't want any trouble, Buttercup." Boomer said seriously, holding his hands up in surrender. I pressed him harder against the wall and he winced.
"Like hell you don't. You three are always looking for trouble." He grunted when I clenched his shirt tighter, pinching a little of his skin. "So what are you doing here, huh? Trying to fuck up all the work we did for this city?"
"We're not! Or… I'm not, at least." I narrowed my eyes. "You don't have to worry about Brick or Butch. They're not here."
"You expect me to believe that?"
Boomer smiled weakly. "No, not really. But it doesn't matter what I say because you still wouldn't believe it." He's definitely gotten smarter, I'll give him that. But he was still the same, pathetic Rowdyruff from fifteen years ago.
"Okay, so if they're not here then where are they?"
He hesitated, "They won't come into Townsville, Buttercup."
"That wasn't what I asked."
"Look I'm just here to—"
"I don't give a fuck why you're here. What matters is you're here and you don't go anywhere without them. If you're here then they're a spit distance away. So, let's try this again. Where. Are. Your. Brothers?"
He stared at me in silence, eyes darting between mine. Then his eyebrows knitted together. "You don't think I'm much of a threat." He guessed.
"You've never been before."
I suddenly found myself being shoved against the opposite wall. I felt the wall crack under the force and the crumbling brick dug into my skin. I grimaced, "Son of a bitch."
Boomer pressed himself against me, holding me firmly against the bulwark, my wrists enclosed tightly in his fists. "That's where you're wrong." He whispered harshly in my ear. "I'm just as powerful as my brothers. Remember that. Quick."
I glared at him from the corners of my eyes. "Are you threatening me?"
That seemed to frighten him for some reason. He immediately stepped back, face twisted in unexplainable pain as he looked at me. He opened his mouth to speak, only to shut it seconds later. Shaking his head, he kept walking back until his body hit the opposing wall behind him.
"I—"
"Are we going or what, Buttercup?" Kat's voice echoed through the dark alleyway. We both looked as she stood at the only exit, arms crossed and an impatient crease of her brow.
I stared back at Boomer, eyes unfriendly, but he refused to look at me. Good. But I had unfinished business with him… and his damned brothers.
"Give me a minute."
"I gave you seven. Leggo." She grabbed my wrist and roughly jerked me away from Boomer. Kat wasn't one for giving people space or time. None of those matter unless you were invading or wasting hers.
Without a second of hesitation, she dragged me down the sidewalk, leaving Boomer back in the alleyway. "Dammit, Kat. Let go of me." I snatched my hand out of hers. "What's your problem?"
"My problem is my brothers. They called after I hung up on your sister. Sounded like they were cookin' something. God I wanna fucken strangle all of them."
You and me both.
"Well why are you telling me?"
She looked at me strangely. "Are you retarded?" I scowled. "They're gonna burn down my apartment, I just know it. 'Sides, you're my new roommate. Roommates put up with annoying fucks for brothers."
"I thought I was a guest until I start paying cable." I grumbled.
"Landlord pays for cable."
What?
She grinned devilishly at me. "You led me on."
"I do that."
"I'm not babysitting."
"Good, cos neither am I. Just use your powers and force 'em out or somethin'."
"Professor?" Blossom called, entering the laboratory built in the basement. She saw the man in question sit hunched over at his desk, pen in hand, scribbling tightly across a thin sheet of paper. Blossom could hear him mumbling something along the lines of theories, unfinished equations, and the like. It was an old habit of his, something she's gotten used to since becoming his apprentice. It usually meant he was too transfixed in his work to be bothered.
Of all people, Blossom knew better than to interrupt him, whether he was deeply focused or not. It was the first rule he ran past her the second she stepped into the lab. He needn't tell her twice. She was well aware of what was to be expected of her. And even if she didn't, she knew herself. She's Blossom Utonium, Type A. She did everything she was told just as she was told.
Except today.
"Professor," she tried again.
He paused for the briefest seconds then continued writing. Parabola now had a dark splotch marring the fifth letter. Seeing this didn't help in easing Blossom's already troubled thoughts. The Professor was very nit-picky about neatness. She knew he was going to redo the entire paper because of that one single mistake.
Her heart thumped rapidly as she prepared to go against him.
Is this how her sisters felt? Or was she that much of a prude?
"I'm done."
His hand stopped again, this time the fine point hovered motionlessly over the lined paper. Using his free hand to remove his reading glasses, the Professor set both items down on the steel desk and turned to face his eldest. "I don't suppose you're talking about the errand I had you do."
Blossom stayed quiet.
"You've talked to Buttercup."
"Bubbles." Blossom winced as she recalled their conversation.
"So that's what that was." The Professor mused, undoubtedly referring to Bubbles' emphatically enhanced voice. Their argument must've deterred him. Blossom lowered her gaze. "I understand if Buttercup's leaving is adding to your stress. I won't force you to stay in my program. If you want to take time to clear your mind, by all means go ahead."
"I don't want to take time off to clear my head." The Professor arched a brow. Blossom shut her eyes. Her sisters bombarded her thoughts.
"You've changed." The red-haired leader stared at the rough-and-tumble Buttercup in shock. She's changed? That's absurd.
"I haven't." She's not so different than she was years ago.
Then again, years ago she was still the Professor's protégé.
"You didn't stop her. You didn't stop Buttercup from leaving?" How could she when it wasn't her business? It wasn't her place to outright deny Buttercup what she wanted. She wanted to leave. She wanted to leave.
"And where were you, Blossom? Where were you when Buttercup left?" Minding my own business. It's not my place. It's not my battle to fight. Buttercup wanted to leave. She wanted to leave!
But who was she really trying to convince?
"When are you going to stop being a suck up and start being a sister?!"
"I want to make things right."
The Professor let her speak.
"I've always wanted to work with you and everyone else who can get me to the top. I was so fixated on learning and experimenting and all these…" she swallowed the painfully large lump in her throat, "damn meetings… I forgot where my priorities were."
"Where were you, Blossom?" She could still remember the indignant undertone of her voice over the cell phone receiver. Buttercup was pissed, as expected, but Blossom could've sworn she heard the hurt echo from her words. "Buried under a pile of Professor's work isn't a good excuse anymore."
"I'm sorry, Buttercup."
"I'm sure you are."
She stood her sisters up so she could finish an assignment the Professor had given her.
"I'm grateful that you've taken the time to teach me all that you have. I'll never forget what this experience has taught me."
Bubbles was sobbing onto her shoulder. Buttercup made an uncharacteristic run to the drug store—ice cream, chocolate, and tea—leaving Blossom to comfort their emotionally distressed sister.
"I can't believe he was such a jerk!"
Blossom knew he was.
"I thought he was different!"
Blossom knew he wasn't.
"I'm so stupid."
Guilt hit Blossom like a truck.
"I wish I knew how he was before I let him humiliate me like that."
Blossom was well aware the type of person Micah was. Was she going to tell Bubbles? Yes. But the Professor had an experiment to do at the Center and Blossom much preferred to go with him than to bother herself with Bubbles' love life.
This will be a learning experience for her, Blossom told herself as she followed the Professor out the door hours before Bubbles was planning to leave on her date.
"But I think it's about time I stop being your apprentice… and start being a part of this family." It's time to start being a sister.
Teacher and student stared solemnly at one another.
The Professor placed a hand on her shoulder and nodded his sign of dismissal.
Blossom turned on her heel and walked out of the lab.
Father and daughter smiled joyously behind professional façades.
The infomercials weren't doing it for me anymore. I can only take so much antique glass unicorns before I lose my mind. After we kicked her brothers out of the kitchen and, subsequently, the apartment, Kat took a long swig of her Saturday beer and disappeared into her—our—room. I checked on her an hour ago and found her fast asleep in the closet, half-dressed. I decided to let her be until the morning.
Since my source of entertainment was gone, I had to amuse myself. I didn't particularly enjoy late night showings and all that was left were those damned infomercials. I left the TV on for sound and went into the kitchen.
Kat warned me about some of the stuff she keeps in a cabinet. It was her side-business's stock. All of the drugs that I try to keep my image away from was in a small safe above her stove. She sold regularly, which explains the nice area of town her apartment was in. The place itself wasn't much to brag about, but the neighborhood was one of the better ones. She told me to stay away from it and, funnily enough, insisted that if I don't bother it, it won't bother me.
I made sure to keep away from that side of the kitchen and went straight to the fridge. Kat had her days of the week beers on the bottom drawers and, again, warned me to not touch them. Apparently she spikes her own drinks with sleeping pills so she'd sleep through the night without scaring herself awake. So unless I didn't want to see the light until four in the afternoon, I should stick with the juice and soda she has up top.
Kat was a troubled girl. Her nightmares were the worst of the rest of her problems. Not only was she an alcoholic (she denies it; but if you drink a beer for breakfast, lunch and dinner, even if it's just one, then you have a problem) and in the closet, she used to have these nightmares that scared her into insomnia. It was recently that she was prescribed sleeping pills and she's slept like a baby ever since.
I'm not too worried about living with her. I may not have known her as long as I've known Darlene or even Mitch, but she's just as close. I've known about her issues for a while so it's not exactly like I'm walking into this apartment blindfolded.
I suppose what's getting me is the unfamiliarity of this place. I'm used to sleeping over at a friend's and going home the next morning, not calling that friend's home my home. All I've ever known was my house, the Professor, Blossom and Bubbles. It's not the new responsibilities that are now put in my hands, it's the fact I'm facing these responsibilities on my own.
A tap-tap-tapping on the window knocked me out of my thoughts. Eyes narrowed, I quietly shut the refrigerator door and cautiously approached the window. Grabbing a hold of the thick curtains, I quickly reeled them back and froze.
Floating precariously outside Kat's third-story apartment was Boomer. And he had a note.
We need to talk.
I read and reread his messily scrawled message and knitted my eyebrows together. After this morning, I'm sure he had a lot to talk to me about.
He turned the note over.
I'll meet you downstairs.
I looked at him incredulously. The fact that he assumed I'd go with him showed that he hasn't changed as much as I thought. But I figured if he found me and is willingly—boringly—going to give me the information I need, then what the hell.
I gave him a firm nod and swung the curtains over the window, covering him from my view.
There was that pang in my chest again.
Entering our room, I saw Kat hadn't moved from the closet. With a sigh, I gathered her in my arms and carried her to her bed. I tucked her in, awkwardly patted her forehead and flew out of the apartment.
Copyright © 2013 by scorpialin
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