Stealing cars was easy. He learned to steal cars before he could recite the alphabet. It was practically second nature. Giving it back; however, was never part of the process. It sort of defeated the purpose. But here he was, giving back his number one prize and all because the boss man said so. Such a waste of a fine car too. Fuck, did that irritate him, but that's cool, 'cuz while he wasn't the smartest of men, he was patient, and if he played his cards right, one day he'd be giving the orders.
He just had to wait for that old man to die.
"Sorry about the noise, mostly sorry for you. You caught us at a really bad time. Sneaking something out is usually easier than sneaking something in, but I ain't suppose to leave no evidence behind so this is what we're gonna to do." He picks up the photo frame on the desk, the gun in his other hand still pointed at the terrified man shaking in his seat.
"You got a real nice family; it be a shame if something happened to them. And you do realize that ain't an empty threat, right? I will kill them." The man whimpers.
"Alright, good to see we're on the same page. Now listen, 'cuz the next part is real important. You'll be getting a visitor soon, and trust me, he'll be one scary dude, but don't let that phase you. He's a punk ass bitch. Just give him what he asks for and don't say nothing about this here mess, got it?" The man whimpers again and shakes his head. "Good. If you do that, then there's no reason for your lovely family to be getting a visit from me."
The gunman lowers his gun, "We'll be leaving now. You better not call the cops or, well, you know what will happen" he says waving the frame in his hand. He drops it on the floor and steps on it, smashing the glass with his boot. "Have a nice night." He says before leaving. He whistles to the rest of his crew, "Alright, boys. Let's bounce. Dawn is approaching, can't have anyone spot us."
They move out quickly, hoping to escape while it's still dark out.
The gunman's phone rings. "Boss."
"Did you put it back?"
"All taken care of."
"No signs of you know who?"
"None, sir. Not that I'd expect him to show his lousy face."
"Careful, don't underestimate him. He's not smart, but he's crazy enough to take you and your boys down."
"I'm touched."
"I don't want any mishaps. If all goes well, he'll be leaving in chains once more."
"Got it. We're on our way back as we speak." The boss hangs up, and the gunman disappears into the cover of night just as the first rays of light begin to emerge.
"Girls! Hurry up! We're leaving in…" Blossom checks her watch, "Now!"
Bubbles hurries downstairs fixing one of her pigtails. "How do I look?" She asks, taking a spin to show off her outfit. It's cute, frilly, and blue—classic Bubbles.
"You look great, Bubbles." Blossom comments, honestly. Her baby sister is the prettiest girl in Townsville. Petite, slim, and angelic-looking—not to mention fashionable. With looks like her's you'd think Bubbles would be more vain or self-absorbed, but she's sweet as a peach. Thank goodness for that. One less thing for Blossom to worry about.
"You think? I wore this at last year's spring festival. You don't think anyone will notice?"
"Bubbles, I don't even remember you wearing that. I'm sure you'll be fine."
"I guess," she mumbles, twirling a lock of blond hair.
Bubbles continues to fuss over her outfit while Blossom anxiously awaits for her other equally beautiful, but much less sweet sister.
"Bubbles, where's Buttercup? Was she in the bathroom when you came down?"
Bubbles stops tugging on her outfit, "Um, actually, I don't think she's up yet."
Blossom groans, "Of all the days," she mumbles. "Here hold this." She hands her bag to Bubbles and hurries upstairs. The keep out sign does nothing to slow her down as she throws open the door. The noise is enough to cause a stir in the mess that Buttercup calls a bed, but it's not enough to actually awaken her. Blossom lets out an irritated sigh and walks over to Buttercup's night stand, turning on her clock radio and setting it as loud as possible.
"This is 96.6 WKPIG telling you to GET UP! And ROCK ON! It's another scalding day, and in even worst news for you unfortunate kids under 18, sucks for you, but today is officially back-to-school! Try not falling asleep during homeroom, kiddos! Haha!"
"AGHH!" A frazzled Buttercups springs out of bed, her hand desperately trying to find the off button on her noisy alarm clock. She manages to shut it off just as Blossom pulls back her curtains. Strong sunlight enters the room frying Buttercup's still sleepy eyes.
"Ughh! What the fuck is your problem?"
Blossom ignores her sister's foul use of language, choosing to focus on the more pressing issue."Get up. You're late for school."
Buttercup rolls her eyes and lays back down. "I'm not going to school. So, if you could just shut the door on your way out, that be great." She pulls the covers over her head, concealing herself from the harsh light.
"Oh no, we don't have time for this. You are going to school, no if's, and's, or but's about it. Now, GET UP!" Blossom tugs on the covers, but Buttercup has a strong hold and buries deeper into herself. Blossom lets go with a huff. Trying to pry the covers off her sister isn't going to work, Buttercup is stronger and more stubborn than she is, but that's okay. Blossom knows that the best solution to any situation isn't to work harder, but to work smarter. She grabs a pillow off the floor and places it on top of Buttercup. She puts as much of her body weight as she can on top of her sister and waits.
Her sister stills for a second and then starts bucking like crazy before pushing her off. "Are you crazy!" She yells, taking a deep breath of air. "You could have killed me!"
"Don't exaggerate. I wouldn't have taken it that far. Now get dressed, we leave in five."
"I told you. I'm not going." She huffs, crossing her arms.
"Buttercup, you have been locked in this room for the past week. Now, whatever this…" she says gesturing to the room and her sister, "is, it ends now. This isn't a negotiation. You are going to school, and that's final!"
"But—"
"I don't want to hear any complaints, Buttercup. We're late enough as it is. School, five minutes."
Buttercup frowns at her sister, her glare hot enough to melt ice. Blossom stands her ground. She truly has no idea what has gotten into her sister, but she's not going to let Buttercup screw up her life by ditching school. After a few tense seconds, Buttercup's lip begins to twitch and finally, she caves. "FINE! You can get out now!"
Blossom nods, letting out a small breath of relief as she walks out of Buttercup's room "We'll be downstairs waiting for you. Remember,—" Her sister slams the door in her face. "We leave in five minutes!" Blossom yells through the door, unsurprised by her sister's reaction. She walks back downstairs, smoothing down her hair.
"Is she coming?" Bubbles asks nervously handing back her book bag.
Blossom nods. "She is…she better be."
Five tense and quiet minutes later Buttercup makes her way downstairs; pouting the whole way down. She doesn't spare a glance at her sisters, nor offers them a greeting. Just walks right past them and out the door. Blossom rolls her eyes. Buttercup can't make anything easy.
The sisters walk to school. Sara was supposed to stop by and give them a ride, but Blossom already knew that wasn't going to happen before the day even began, which is why Blossom planned on leaving earlier, so that they'd get to school on time. That plan too fell through with Buttercup being so reluctant to go.
On the bright side, Buttercup did decide to join them. Dealing with her escalating bad moods is getting increasingly challenging. There is going to come a day where Buttercup will stop listening to her older sister altogether. Blossom doesn't know what she's going to do when that day comes.
Worried that they won't make it to school on time, Blossom tries setting a fast pace for her sisters. Bubbles quickly picks up on the change of pace, but Buttercup purposely lags behind. Pout still on her face. Blossom glances at her wristwatch. If they continue at this pace, they won't have time to pick up their schedules, and they'll definitely be late for homeroom! That's an automatic detention, and Blossom has never in her life been late or in detention. Blossom's panicked thoughts are temporally interrupted when a car horn gets all their attentions. They turn around to see a red car drive up. Upon further inspection, Blossom realizes the car belongs to Sara.
"Girls!" Their aunt yells out, "Get in!"
Her sisters look back at her, the question written clearly on their faces. Do we get in? Pushing her frustrations aside for the sake of her perfect attendance, Blossom reluctantly nods her head. Her sisters get in the backseat, leaving the front seat for her.
"Sorry I was late. I was up most of the night working, and I must have slept in by accident. I rushed over as fast as I could, but you guys were already gone."
"We couldn't wait any longer. We were going to be late." Blossom responds rather coldly.
"Sorry. I'll get you there as quickly as the law permits, and I promise this will never happen again." Her aunt promises, sounding remorseful. Buttercup snorts, clearly not believing their aunt's promise. Blossom isn't happy with her lack of manners, but she can't help but agree with her.
"We understand, Auntie. It's okay. We're not even late yet. We've still got like twenty minutes." Bubbles adds cheerfully, breaking the tension in the car.
Sara nods thankfully at her. "Still, I really am sorry. It doesn't set a good precedence for the rest of the year when you're late on the first day."
Blossom hums in agreement intending that to be the end of the conversation, but she can feel Sara's gaze on her. She puts up with it for a few awkward seconds before giving in and reluctantly saying, "It's alright. You're here now." She doesn't turn to look at her, but she can feel her aunt's smile from where she sits.
Keep the peace. Keep them happy. Blossom thinks to herself.
Almost ten minutes later they reach the school. Blossom barely manages to utter a bye to her aunt, before she's hurrying her sisters to the main office. The school is crowded, which makes it that much more difficult to reach her intended destination, and with only ten minutes left before homeroom, it's safe to say that Blossom is a little panicked. Luckily, they don't have to make it very far when suddenly their schedules are thrust in their faces.
"I noticed you guys hadn't picked these up yet. Am I awesome or what? What may be substituted with cool, pretty, the best, or any other compliment of your choosing."
"Robin!" Blossom and her sisters yell in unison. Bubbles throws herself at Robin in a bear hug, while Buttercup pounds her fist from behind. Blossom eagerly grabs hold of the schedules. "Thank you. I was getting worried we wouldn't reach the office in time."
"I figured. Can't have you worried, can we." Robin winks at her. She gives Bubbles a big squeeze before the girls break the embrace. "Nice to see you too, honey. Still sweet?"
"The sweetest." Bubbles giggles.
Buttercup groans, "Ugh, when are you guys gonna stop doing that. If these exchanges get any sweeter, I'm going to have to start taking insulin."
"Oh, like, you didn't miss me, either?"
"Well…a little, maybe."
"Good, you better miss we. We've got homeroom together."
"Oh yeah? Let me see." Buttercup takes her schedule from Blossom's hand, Bubbles doing the same. "Ugh, math? First thing in the morning? That blows!"
"Right?" Robin agrees, equally annoyed.
"You're lucky. I have AP World History—with Mr. Sandman."
"Whoa. Okay, you win. That's rough." Robin says. Buttercup nodding her head in agreement. Nobody puts students to sleep like Mr. Sandman. Blossom is going to have to study twice as hard if she wants to maintain her GPA.
"Oh no, I have chemistry." Bubbles laments, presumably upset about not having one of her sisters or Robin in her class. Bubbles has never been good with being alone. On the one hand, it explains why she's so friendly, excited to make a friend wherever she is, on the other, it can maker a bit too—needy.
"I'm sure someone from the cheer squad will have that class and keep you company," Blossom says, trying to calm her baby sister.
"I guess." As soon as Bubbles says that, a dark-skinned girl in a white cheer uniform passes by, catching Bubbles' attention. "Ciara?" Bubbles calls out, stopping the girl in her tracks. "Why are you wearing your uniform?"
"What? Bubbles? What are you doing here? You're late. I'm late. Come on!" Before she can explain herself any further, Ciara grabs Bubbles and drags her away.
"Um, you're sister just got cheer-napped. Shouldn't we be worried?"
Buttercup shrugs, "Happens all the time. If no one has seen her by the end of the day, then we'll send out an APB."
Robin nods her head, "K. So like, do you guys mind filling me in? I was gone all summer. What I miss? How you guys been?"
Blossom and Buttercup share a look. Not a look of camaraderie or insecurity. More a look of contempt and understanding. They mentally agree not share the more intimate details of their home life with Robin. Robin is a great friend of all three of them; it wouldn't put her in a good position if they told her they weren't getting along—which is putting it lightly—at the moment. It might make Robin feel like she has to choose sides.
There's also that unspoken discussion about how they're actually dealing with their father's passing. They haven't spoken about it, but it's not like either one of them is fine, not if Buttercup's reckless behavior or her own anxiety are any indications. Still, this is all something Robin doesn't need to concern herself with.
"Nothing too eventful." Blossom answers, "Just everything we told you in our texts. But what about you? You must have stories."
"Uhh-huh, nope. That's not going to work on me." Robin says crossing her arms.
Blossom frowns, "What do you mean?"
"In case you have forgotten I have an older cousin who too works in city hall. As a receptionist."
"What does that have to do with—"
"Blossom, I heard about the attack."
"Oh…um,"
"Blossom, sweetie, why didn't you say anything? I mean that totally qualifies as news." Robin uncrosses her arms and grabs her shoulders, sympathy written all over her face. "You must have been so scared. Are you alright?"
The familiar twinge of annoyance runs through her. It's not that she's annoyed with Robin, just with that question altogether. She should have told Robin, but it was just more bad news, and she didn't want to ruin her family vacation. Besides annoyance, she begins to feel the familiar touch of nervous energy run through her. Just thinking of that night gives her the shakes. It's even worse because she hasn't heard anything back from the police. Her aunt assures her that no news is good news, except no news also means they haven't caught the perpetrators yet. The thought that they're out and about, roaming free to do as they please is so…unsettling.
Cool. Calm. Collected.
"It was…frightening, to say the least. But luckily, everything turned out all right. I mean for me, I wasn't actually the one being attacked."
"It was a man, right? Jack something?"
"Yeah," Blossom says, surprised with how much Robin knew of the incident. "He's going to fine, I heard, but he was still hurt pretty badly."
"Wow, imagine if you hadn't been there? That guy would have been dead, right?"
"Oh, I don't know about that. I like to think the police would have found him in time."
Robin smacks Buttercups shoulder, who stands unusually quiet, "Can you believe this? Your sister is a hero."
Buttercup nods absentmindedly, "Yeah. Lucky that you were there that night."
"Hey, BC, you okay?" Robin asks, shifting her worry from her to her younger sister.
Buttercup shrugs, "Yeah? I mean have you forgotten that today is the first day of school? And that we have math first thing in the morning? You mean to tell you aren't at all bummed."
Robin hums, "I see what you mean, but compared to my boring vacation, school is a welcomed change of pace."
"How could your vacation be boring? You went on a cross-country road trip." Blossom asks in disbelief.
"Hours on end spent in a car cramped with four other people? Yeah, no, you're right that was so much fun." Robin retorts sarcastically.
"Come on; you're totally downplaying it. We were stuck in Townsville all summer. Anything had to be better than that." Buttercup says.
"Well, we did see the grand canyon. It was a canyon, and it was grand. It was also really cool for like a minute. The rest of the hour my parents forced me to be there was complete overkill. The rest of the trip was exactly like that, so if you're looking for a good bedtime story to fall asleep too, I'm your girl."
"Thanks, but I think I'll pass. I do have Mr. Sandman first thing in the morning. As it is, I'm sure I'll be doubling my caffeine intake."
"Oh? Back on the black stiffs are we?"
"Dude. Do you even realize what that sounded like?" Buttercup questions with laughter.
"Ugh, I know. I realized as I was saying it. I was trying to be witty by the way. Okay, let us ignore that and not start the year pervy."
"I second that," Blossom says. She checks her watch. It's five minutes before the first bell and ten minutes before the final bell. That's still plenty of time for most students, but Blossom is already feeling nervous, and the thought of being late is not helping. "I'm going to start heading to class. I'll see you at lunch, and you can tell me more about your boring trip."
"Will do boss." Robin solutes her goodbye.
"So…you still hanging out with Mitch?" Is the last thing Blossom hears Robin say before she walks away.
Blossom almost pauses to hear more of what Buttercup has to say. She knows that Mitch is who Buttercup has been spending her summer with, but that's all she knows. Is it bad that she doesn't know more? She should know more. Right? Buttercup is her sister. The curiosity of wanting to know more, for the sake of trying to figure out Buttercup and her strange behavior, is strangely not there. Blossom doesn't have time to ponder whether that is a good thing or bad, as her palms start sweating, reminding her she better get to class before even the possibility of being late presents itself.
Cool. Calm. Collected.
"Ciara! Where are you taking me?" Bubbles yells out, being careful to avoid bumping into anyone.
"Girl, what are you talking about? The meeting, hello! And why are you not in uniform?"
"Um…because uniforms are only worn during prep rallies, football games, and competitions. And I really don't know where you're taking me."
Ciara suddenly pauses, causing Bubbles to bump into her back. She spins around, fast and dramatic as only a cheerleader knows how. "The passing of the baton meeting?"
Bubbles stares at her, blankly.
"Didn't anyone tell you? Mandy is here; she's passing the baton."
It takes Bubbles a second, but then she realizes what Ciara is referring to, "Mandy is picking the new captain? Today! What? No one told me anything!"
"Oh, Boo-boo, that really sucks, and I have no idea how you didn't get the memo, but you need to get your cute butt in gear because we are so late!"
Ciara grabs hold of Bubbles again and drags her through the massive hoards of students. Soon they've reached the football field. On the grass, Bubbles can see the whole team has gathered. They're all wearing their uniforms. The only one not in uniform, beside herself, is Mandy, the brunette beauty standing in the center of the group. She's tall, curvaceous, and beautiful. She's also been captain of the Townsville Titian Cheer Squad for the last two years. She just graduated, which means it's time for her to pass the baton and pick the new captain. This is her first passing of the baton ceremony. She's always been excited to attend one. A part of her hopeful that the baton would get passed to her. Since no one bothered telling her, it's obvious she's not going to become captain. Makes sense, she's never really been leadership material.
"Great. It looks like everyone is here." Mandy begins, "First things first, I just wanna say thank you for coming out this early. I have a psychology class this afternoon, and I wouldn't have been able to come after school. But anyway, on to the main event." Mandy bends down to retrieve something in her duffle bag. She pulls out an object covered with a white cloth. "It is time to pass the baton. Everyone can you please join me in signing our school anthem."
Tried and true
Me and you
Tried and true
Me and you
We come from far
We come from wide
We come to fight
We come to win
We pave the path
We are the mighty
We are the might
We are the might Titians
Gods among men
Warriors among meek
We are the proud
We are the strong
Titans!
"Oh! That was special" Mandy sequels. "It was truly an honor to lead you girls. Titans forever!"
"Titans forever!" The girls echo back.
Mandy holds up the object in her hand and removes the cloth, revealing a sparkly, gold-painted baton. It's been in the Townsville cheer family for years, passed on from captain to captain. It's never used in performances; it just serves as a symbol. A symbol of dedication, discipline, cheer, and sisterhood. All her favorite things of being a cheerleader. "Drum roll please!" All the girls pat their legs creating a roaring drumroll, excitedly awaiting to hear the name of their next captain, well, all the girls except for—
"KITTY!" Mandy yells, "It is both an honor and a privilege to hand over this baton and officially name you the new Townsville Titian's cheer captain!"
The drumroll stops and is replaced by applause. Kitty graciously accepts the baton, twirling it in the air and then blowing a kiss to the rest of the girls. It doesn't come as a shock, Kitty being captain. She's the best on the team, and she's assertive like a good leader should be. Bubbles is happy for her; she really is, she just can't help but feel this pit deep in her stomach, like maybe naming Kitty as captain wasn't such a good idea. Bubbles attributes the feeling to simple jealousy and ignores it, choosing instead to be happy for her friend.
"Thank you. Thank you. Mandy, you truly were a great captain, and I will work endlessly to uphold your reign and the values of this team—commitment, precision, and teamwork." Mandy gives Kitty one last hug before bidding goodbye to the rest of the girls. "Bye girls! Go for gold! TTCS!"
"TTCS!" The team yells back.
"Ok. That was fun, but now let's get down to business." Kitty says seriously once Mandy is gone. "Our first practice is tomorrow, and I'm excepting everyone to show up in tip top shape ready to put in some seriously hard work. That shouldn't be too absurd of a request; we did just spend two months in cheer bootcamp—well, some of us did anyway." Kitty's yellow eyes lock on her accusingly. The rest of the girls turn to look at her, the same look in their eyes, and she suddenly feels naked without her uniform on.
"I will not have this team's winning streak end with me as captain, is that understood?" The girls nod their head lazily, some already over the hype of the morning meeting, some not fully awake yet. Kitty clears throat. "I don't think I made myself clear. Playtime is over. I will not lead a team of losers. Is that understood!" The girls, more awaken by Kitty's shout, yell back "Yes!"
"Good." She says, dainty as ever.
The first bell rings and the girls scatter, trying to reach class before the final bell or risk getting detention. Before leaving, Ciara gives her shoulder a squeeze, an apologetic look on her face. "Catch you at practice," she says before leaving. Bubbles simply waves. She's about to head to class when a voice stops her.
"Leaving without us?" Kitty asks, walking up to her.
"Oh, well, the bell rang, and my class is all the way on the west side of the building, so…"
"We know." Kim says, "We saw your schedule in the office this morning. Chem, right?"
Bubbles nods her head, "You guys have that class? With Mr. Savino?"
The girls nod and start walking ahead. A clear order for Bubbles to follow behind. The girls walk at a lazy pace, which makes Bubbles nervous that they'll be late to class. The upside is, most people are quick to scurry out of the way for the triple Ks, so there are fewer people in their path.
"Congratulations, by the way. You'll make a really good captain, Kitty." Bubbles says, a last ditch effort to push aside her uneasiness about the whole thing.
"Aren't you sweet, Bubbles. Thank you. I think I'll be a great captain too."
An awkward silence follows, interrupted by Kitty clearing her throat, "Ahem."
"OH! Yeah! For sure, you'll be the best captain ever!" Kristen gushes.
"You'll be legendary," Kim adds more subdued, lazily running her fingers through her long dark hair.
Kim and Kristen stare back at her, eyebrows risen as to say 'what are you waiting for.'
"Uh…yeah, you'll be the perfect captain, Kitty." Kitty seems pleased with the praise and continues to walk with her head held high.
"So, like Bubbles, why aren't you wearing your uniform?" Kirsten asks causing Kim to giggle under her breath.
"You know, Kristen, I was wondering the same thing. What happened?" Kitty asks, looking back at her. "Did it not fit?" She whispers. "You were pretty inactive this summer."
"No!" Bubbles says defensively, red coloring her cheeks. "I mean, yes it fits, but I…I didn't know about the passing of the baton until just now. When I got to school."
"Hmmm…that doesn't sound right. A text was sent to out everyone. You should have known about it." Kitty says.
"Yeah, and it was posted on the Facebook group. No way you missed it." Kim adds.
"Huh? Facebook group? What Facebook group?" Bubbles questions.
"You know. The one we made on the bus trip to cheer camp—oh! That's why you didn't know." Kristen says. "You weren't added to the group, 'cuz like you weren't there."
"Tsk. That's unfortunate Bubbles." Kitty says sympathetically. They've just reached the outside of their classroom when Kitty pauses and turns to give Bubbles her full attention. "We'll make sure to fix that later. We can't have you falling out of the loop. Embarrassments like today just can't repeat themselves."
"It wasn't embarrassing—" Bubbles tries to argue.
"Of course it was," Kitty says cutting her off, Kim and Kristen nodding beside her. "Bubbles, as cheerleaders we present a united front, a united front you are not upholding by being out of uniform. When you roam the halls going from class to class today, no one will be able to identify you as a Titan cheerleader. I mean, you might as well be invisible."
Bubbles opens her mouth to argue, but the final bell cuts her off. The triple Ks enter the classroom, leaving her outside with her mouth hanging open. Just as well, it's not like she had anything to say. Kitty is right. If she's not a cheerleader, she isn't anything, just another girl in the crowd. Forgettable and invisible. Who wants to be that?
Biting her tongue, Bubbles enters the class. Luckily, Mr. Savino hasn't arrived yet, and there's no one to yell at her for being late. Blossom always makes a big deal of coming to school on time (on time meaning early for her), but the teachers are usually lenient of tardiness for the first period of the day. The first period is only 15 minutes of Homeroom. A time for attendance, morning announcements, and usually, a time to catch up on some sleep or some homework. Bubbles wants to use the time to catch up on anything she missed while the girls were away at cheer camp.
She's tired of feeling left out.
The triple K's have just found their seats, in the very back of the class near the door. Bubbles is about to follow when she notices that there aren't any open seats anywhere near them. The seats are arranged in twos, each pair of seats belonging to a work lab. Kitty sits next to some boy with glasses she doesn't know, while Kristen and Kim take up the last remaining workstation.
Kitty locks eyes with her, her yellow cat-like eyes shimmering with glee. She moves her eyes to the side, motioning to the opposite end of the classroom. Bubbles follows her gaze and notices she is pointing out the only available seat in the class.
Bubbles is disappointed at first. The Ks are the only people she knows in the class, and now she won't even be able to sit with them, but then she takes notice of the person siting beside her empty seat and fear replaces her disappointment. She understands why Kitty looked so gleeful.
"Ahem. Miss, if you would please take your seat. I'd like to begin class soon." Mr. Savino says, walking into class. Bubbles jumps up, startled by his sudden appearance. She mumbles an apology and quickly walks to her seat. She passes the Ks, who giggle as she walks by. She notices some other students staring as she takes her seat. She would have stared too if the situation were reversed. She approaches her seat cautiously and sits down as quietly as she can. She peaks out the corner of her eye to see if perhaps the boy sitting next to her has noticed her presence.
He hasn't.
Boomer Mercer isn't aware of her or the stares in the room. Blissfully doodling away in his notebook. He's probably used to the unwanted attention. He is a Mercer. As is Hannibal Isaiah Mercer's son, as in HIM's son! No one messes with a Mercer, not unless they want to deal with HIM. Bubbles doesn't know too much about HIM, only that he isn't a very nice man, at least he mustn't be if everyone is always so scared to talk about him.
Boomer, on the other hand, they talk about him plenty. He's a trouble maker, a real bad boy. She's heard all types of stories. They say he's a thief and a thug, and that the only reason he hasn't been arrested is because of his dad's connections. According to people, he's depraved, violent and crazy. She's even heard that he's been in a mental institution. Others say he's a drug dealer or that at the very least he's on drugs. Bubbles kinda of believes the latter more. She hasn't had many interactions with the blond boy beside her, but of the few times she has, he's always seemed detached. Like he's on some other planet and unaware of the world around him.
"Boomer Mercer." Mr. Savino calls out.
Boomer looks up and shoots his arm in the air. Mr. Savino continues with the roll call, having seen the raised arm. Before Bubbles can blink, Boomer notices her staring and turns his hazy blue gaze on her. His gaze is direct and intrusive.
Intense.
Bubbles feels a shock run through her body. Frightened and embarrassed, Bubbles quickly turns away. When Mr. Savino calls her name, she can't muster more than a weak, "Here." She's not sure if Boomer looks away as she tries her hardest not to look in his direction, but for the rest of the period, both the reminder of Homeroom and the Chemistry class that follows, she feels his intense stare on the side of her face.
The bell rings.
"Hold on!" Mr. Savino yells, "Don't forget one of my rules. I dismiss you, not the bell. One last thing before I forget. Wherever you sat today, is your permanent seat for the rest of the year, and the other person at your work bench will be your official lab partner."
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no!
"I wrote down everyone's name already on my seat chart. So don't think you can trick me. Alright, go on. You're dismissed."
Bubbles doesn't spare a glance at her lab partner or anyone else. She bolts out of the class, quick to avoid both Boomer and the teasing stares of the Ks. She reaches her next class out of breath and with a hot blush covering her face. Whether it's from rushing over here or from having to withstand Boomer's stare for an hour—she does not know. She spends the rest of math trying to put the mess of the morning behind her, but no matter how hard she tries she can't come to terms with the idea of having to see Boomer every day. His gaze told her everything she needed to know about him.
He's dangerous.
She's dreading the next time she has to face him.
It's much sooner than she expected. She should've had 24 hours. Instead, she finds herself face-to-face with Boomer outside the class she's been excited for all day. Photography. It was the last class of the school day. She had signed up for the class before summer before her father passed. If she wasn't so freaked out about seeing Boomer standing right in front of her, she might have questioned why someone like Boomer would have bothered taking photography.
Probably an easy A.
They stand frozen outside the door. His hand on the doorknob.
"Uh…" Bubbles starts. Should she wait for him to open the door? No. She should just back away, but like not too noticeably because that would probably insult him. Bubbles takes a few tiny steps away from Boomer, hoping he doesn't notice.
He frowns, but says nothing. He opens the door and walks in. She waits for the door to close after him before going in, but the door never closes. She peeks inside the large studio-like classroom and sees him holding the door open for her. Bubbles quickly scurries in, mumbling "Thanks." He nods and sits down in the back. Bubbles walks all the way to the front and tries her hardest not to let the blond boy bother her.
More people walk in. A lot more people. Bubbles didn't expect photography to be such a popular class. There is easily more than 30 students in the room. She overhears a pair of friends talking.
"I thought you said ceramics was lame?"
"My exact words were overrated. Besides, what are you even talking about? I'm here for art."
"What? But this is ceramics."
"Excuse me," Bubbles interrupts, "But isn't this photography?"
"What?" Both strangers turn to look at her. They look back at each other confused, and then all hell breaks loose. The room grows louder and louder with other students questioning whether they're in the right class. Bubbles looks around, tugging on her pigtail nervously. She doesn't know anyone in the room. No Blossom. No Buttercup. No Robin. No cheerleaders. No one to ask for help. Her eyes land on a solitary figure in the back. Hoody up, arms crossed, deep-blue eyes staring right at her. Bubbles tugs harder on her hair and looks away, triple-checking her schedule to make sure she's in the right class.
"QUITE DOWN! QUITE DOWN!" A middle-aged man yells out. "And before you all ask, YES! You are in the right class! If you would all settle down, I'd love to explain the confusion." The class quiets down to a few murmurs before going completely quiet.
"Great, thank you. Okay, first, let me introduce myself. I am Mr. Kellman, and I will be teaching Arts. Before you all get up, let me assure you that you are indeed in the right class. If you signed up for ceramics, painting, photography, or any other form of creative art class, then you are in the right class. Due to budget cuts, the school's art program has been severely downgraded. So all the previous mentioned creative art classes are being condensed into this one class. Simply called Arts. I know this may be a disappointment to some—if not all of you, and trust me I'm pretty disappointed as well. Good news is that because of the depth of subject matter we will be covering, this class will be two semesters long. You are, however, free to opt out of either semester. That also means we might be getting some new faces in here. The school board is being pretty lenient about enrollment and subject-matter considering the circumstances. They don't want a—how did they put it? Oh, right—an upset on their hands." The teacher finishes his explanation with a defeated shrug.
A student raises their hand, "Um, sorry. Mr. Kellman?"
"Yes?"
"So, um, what are we going to be doing?"
The teacher pauses for a second, looking around the room. "Honestly, I'm a new hire, and I was just made aware of the situation this morning. I have to take inventory of the materials we have and will be made available to us. So, short answer, I don't know. The school board wants me to go over as much as possible to cover the art classes that were terminated, but I'm not sure what will be possible. What I do know is that the first week or two we'll be going over important art concepts that we should all know before proceeding with any major projects. Shapes, lines, colors, art styles, techniques—that sort of thing. That should give me enough time to create a proper syllabus. But," He says clapping his hands, "for today. I'd like to start off by getting to know all of you."
The whole class groans.
"Okay guys, icebreakers aren't that bad. If I'm going to be teaching this class for the next year, I'd like to get to know some of you guys better. Here, I'll start. I'm Mr. Kellman. You guys can call Mr. K, Kell, or the Man as some of my other students have taken to calling me. I'm also a professor at TU. I teach art history and live figure drawing— before you ask, no, you cannot sit-in on a class."
Some students laugh.
"I won't be here at school until ten minutes before the start of class. But I will stay an extra hour after school if anyone wants to talk to me or needs help with a project. Right, so enough about me. How about I let you guys do some of the talking. When it's your turn, I want you to say your name, the class you initially signed up for and why. 'Because it seemed like fun' is not an acceptable response by the way."
More groans follow.
"But, if that is really your reason, then you can instead tell me something interesting about you. Alright, let's start with…you. Can you stand up, please."
"Me?" Bubbles squeaks out, embarrassed with how high-pitched her voice sounded. She shouldn't have sat in the front. She avoided one problem and caused another. Bubbles gets up slowly, feeling uncharacteristically shy. As a cheerleader she's used to performing in front of crowds. But she's not performing now, and she's not in uniform either. She feels exposed. She's not Bubbles. She's just some girl or worse, if they recognize her, she's the orphan girl. She stands up and unconsciously beginning to play with a strand of hair.
"Hi. My name is Bubbles. Um, I signed up for photography."
"Probably to learn how to take better selfies." Someone whispers causing a few chuckles.
Embarrassed and hurt, Bubbles looks down. Trying to borrow into herself. It's not the first time she's heard comments like that. She's blond and cheerful, but that just means other people see her as ditsy.
"Enough! Those types of comments won't be tolerated. Bubbles, I'm sorry. Continue. Why did you sign up for photography?"
Bubbles still looking down shrugs her shoulders.
"Oh, I don't believe that. There must be a reason." Mr. Kellman says, trying to encourage her to talk.
Bubbles thinks of her little blue Polaroid camera sitting at home, gathering dust. She thinks about how different, brighter, the world looks through the lens of the camera. The way moments like a hummingbird flapping its wings or the rare smile on Buttercup's face can be captured forever. She thinks of her father. How happy he looked when she shared the snapshots of everything he couldn't be present for.
Bubbles shrugs again, "I don't know. It seemed fun?" Mr. Kellman looks at her like Blossom does when she knows she's lying.
"Alright." He says, sounding unconvinced. "Then tell me something interesting about you."
"Umm…I'm a triplet?" She would have said cheerleader, but she felt that would've received a similar comment to what was said earlier about her. The people in class already think she's some dumb blond airhead. No need to fuel that line of thought.
"Oh? So there are two identical versions of you walking around?"
"No. We're fraternal triplets." She smiles.
Mr. Kellman nods, "Well, that is interesting. Thank you, Bubbles. You can sit down."
The person besides her stands up and introduces themselves. The next hour is filled with introductions; Bubbles stops trying to memorize everyone's name after the tenth person. She's sure she'll get to know a couple of them further along in the year, at least, she hopes she'll make friends. Finally, they reach the last person, and the room becomes tensely quite.
The person before Boomer sits down, having finished his introduction. The class waits, eerily quite, for Boomer to stand up—expect he never does. He sits hunched over a notebook with his hoody up.
"Excuse me? It's your turn." Mr. Kellman speaks, only Boomer doesn't seem to have heard or is simply ignoring him. "Is he asleep? Can someone nudge him?"
The boy sitting next to Boomer pales but reluctantly taps him on the shoulder. Boomer looks up at him, which causes the poor boy to start sweating in his seat. With shaking hands he points to the front of the classroom. Boomer looks to Mr. Kellman with sudden realization.
"Oh, my turn?" He asks, his voice as low as she imagined, but surprisingly softer than she would have expected from him.
Mr. Kellman nods his head.
Boomer gets up, pulling out his earphones. If Mr. Kellman is at all bothered by Boomer's use of electronics in class, which is against the rules, he doesn't let on. "My name is Boomer. I signed up for art because um, I like to draw, so…yea." He sits back down, and the room takes a collective breath.
"Alright. That was great. I look forward to working with you and seeing what you guys cr—" The bell cuts off Mr. Kellman, and his students rush outside. Bubbles sits, waiting for the room to clear. She looks at the many students rushing to get out of class and out of school. They're all eager to get somewhere. Clubs, jobs, friends. Bubbles doesn't have cheer practice today, and she's not sure what to do with herself. It's not like she can hang out with her sisters like she would've normally done. They're busy now, working and making friends of their own. There is Robin.
Thank goodness for Robin.
Boomer is one of the last stragglers to exit the room. His hoodie is still up, concealing most of his sun-kissed hair. He pops in his earphones and heads out, his back facing her. If she didn't know who he was, he'd be indistinguishable from any other student. His dark clothes help him blend in. You'd think someone with so much money—someone who claims to like to draw—would dress a bit more colorfully. He probably just doodles or does graffiti. No point in wearing expensive clothes if they're just going to get stained with spray paint.
"Bubbles?"
Bubbles jumps up at Mr. Kellman's voice. Momentarily forgetting where she is. She looks around noting that she and her Arts teacher are the only two in the room.
"Got any place to be?"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I'm leaving." She gets up gathering her things when a thought occurs to her, "You remembered my name?"
Mr. Kellman laughs, "Of course I do. You're the triplet."
"Yeah, but—Gosh, you remember that too? There's like over 40 students in your class."
"It's 39 students actually—that might change though, and I make it a point to remember everyone's name." Mr. Kellman leans in, suspicious-like, "But between you and me, it's always easier to remember the first and last name in a list." Mr. Kellman leans back with a smile "That would make you and Mr. Boomer my favorite students so far."
Bubbles giggles, "I don't know how long that'll last, but I'll take what I can get."
"Hey, in my lifetime—which is still relatively short, by the way—I have known exactly three different pairs of twins. One fraternal and two identical. You are the first triplet I've ever met. I'm sure I won't be forgetting that."
Bubbles smiles "I'll see you tomorrow Mr. K."
"Mr. K?"
"Uh, yeah. Was that not one of your pre-approved nicknames? Sorry, I have a really bad memory."
Mr. Kellman laughs. "Mr. K is fine. I really like it, actually."
Bubbles nods and starts heading out.
"Oh, Bubbles?"
She turns around, "Yeah?"
"No need to rush out of class. You're always welcomed to spend extra time in here."
Bubbles smiles once more, "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."
"Come on ladies! You guys can do better than this!"
Ms. Daily's voice is lost in the heat of the game. Girls are running ragged, calling out plays, trying not to get too winded except it's impossible because this is the first practice of the season and it is hot as hell outside. Buttercup is trying to focus but the heat is too strong and she keeps getting the yellow and orange jerseys mixed up. It's like they're melting together. Not to mention the ball. If everyone weren't chasing after it, she wouldn't even be able to make out the white and black ball.
"Watch your defenses! You're leaving yourselves wide open!" Ms. Daily yells, blowing her whistle.
Two girls collide, fighting for the ball. Neither gets it as the ball goes flying into the air. Catching her first real glimpse of the ball the whole practice, Buttercup runs after it. Another girl reaches it first. She squints. Yellow. Her team. The girl only kicks forward a few feet before passing her the ball. A flash of orange off to the side catches her attention. Buttercup side steps her quick and gains control of the ball. Everyone is chasing her now, but it's pointless. She's the fastest girl on the team. She sees more orange catching up to her, and damn, they've really stepped up their game. To be honest, Buttercup is feeling pretty winded. She's gonna have to put an end to this— fast. Just before a girl on the other side can steal, Buttercup kicks. She's the main striker on the team, and she's good. Everyone has already stopped running. She can even hear a few of her teammates begin to cheer. The ball soars, the goalie jumps up trying to block, but it's unnecessary. The ball collides with the post.
Her team loses.
"Fuck." She breaths under her breath.
Ms. Daily blows her whistle again. "Alright girls. That's game. Huddle up."
The girls quickly make their way off the field, while Buttercup lags behind. Some of the girls give her a look. Some of the looks are of annoyance, some of pity, and some look smug. Mostly the girls in orange.
"Alright bring it in, bring it in. That was a good hustle out there today. Good not great. But we're going to work on that. Now, because it is the first day of school and because I am like the best coach ever,"
The girls laugh.
"There will be NO after school practice today."
The girls cheer.
"Okay, okay. Settle down. I'm still expecting gold from you ladies. So don't expect me to go easy on you guys tomorrow. Our number one issue right now is endurance. We're going to start building up stamina come tomorrow, so get your asses in gear, because this weak game I saw out here today will not be tolerated. Understood?"
The girls groan, "Yes."
"Alright, good. Bell rings in five minutes. Go get changed."
The girls all lazily start walking to the locker room. No one is in a hurry; they don't have to be. It's the last class of the day, and with practice canceled they have nowhere to be.
"Buttercup." Ms. Daily calls out. "Can you hold on for a sec. I need to talk to you."
Buttercup stops in her tracks and turns back around. She gets a few glimpses her way, but she pretends not to notice.
"Coach."
Ms. Daily looks past her at the retreating group of girls. She waits until they are far enough away to address her. "So here's the thing. I don't do subtle."
Buttercup snorts. Doesn't she know. Ms. Daily is as direct as a freight train. It's one of the many things she likes about the woman.
"So, I'm just gonna come out and say it."
Buttercup lifts a brow in question. Say what?
"How you been? With your father and all?"
Oh…this again.
"I'm good."
Silence follows. "…That it? Good?"
Buttercup shrugs, "Well…yea. What am I suppose to say? My dad is dead. It sucks, but you know...I'm good."
Now it's Ms. Daily's turn to snort. "You really know how to reassure a person."
"There's nothing to reassure. There is nothing going on. Like I said I'm good. I've…moved on."
"Moved on?"
"Yeah."
Ms. Daily hums, "Really? 'Cuz your performance out on that field today begs to differ."
"Look, I'm sorry about that, but you said it yourself. We really sucked out there."
"Yea, and after a summer of inactivity I expect that from my girls, but I don't expect that from you." Ms. Daily says pointing a finger at her chest. "You were playing like a damn blind bat out there. You were blocking the wrong people, avoiding the ball, playing defense when you should've been playing offense—not to mention that last goal. You got the ball once, and you completely blew it."
Buttercup looks down at her cleats, frustrated. Clenching her fist every time Ms. Daily brings up another embarrassment. She gets it; she totally humiliated herself, no need to rub it in. She feels bad enough as it is.
Ms. Daily lets out a sigh, "Buttercup," she says placing a hand on her shoulder. "Talk to me. What's going on?"
Nothing you need to know about.
Buttercup opens and closes her palms a few times before answer. "It was…just really hot out today." That's true it is hot. Hot enough that everything melts together to create one big blur. She doesn't know if that's normal, but she's been pretending that it is, especially since it's been happening a lot lately. It's gotta be the heat. It's just gotta.
Ms. Daily bends down, trying to make eye-contact but Buttercup looks away, squinting as if the sun is in her eye. "Tired too. That's it." That's also true. She's dead tired. Bags under her eyes tired. Most people thinks it's a look like she rubbed eyeliner all over her eyes, but it's not. She can't sleep.
"Are you having trouble sleeping?"
Buttercup shakes her head, "No. Just stayed up late. There was a horror movie marathon on last night." That's true, sort of. There was a horror movie marathon on last night, but that's not the reason she stayed up late. She would have done that anyway.
The bell rings.
"Sorry, Ms. Daily. I gotta go, get to work, but, um… I promise I'll do better."
Buttercup runs off, not letting Ms. Daily finish. Ms. Daily has been her soccer coach since JV freshman year. Ms. Daily likes to tell her she's her star athlete, which is why she's always harder on her. Not that Buttercup minds, usually, but Ms. Daily is really observant, and while that's helped her game performance in the past, it only irritates her now.
It's not her dad. That's not the problem. But Ms. Daily is going to keep thinking that it is because, well, what else can it be? It would be a good cover for what's actually bothering her only Buttercup is tired of the pity treatment. She hates being looked at as weak. She doesn't need any more of that. It's been nearly six months people—move on!
Buttercup looks over her shoulder to see her coach picking up equipment. If Buttercup wants to avoid questions likes the ones Ms. Daily just asked her then she's going to have to push herself harder than ever before. Distract the older woman with soccer. Make everything seem like it's just peachy-keen.
Fuck.
She dresses as fast as she can and heads over to the big oak tree out on the side of the school. She met up with some of the gang during school. It was a little awkward. The little progress Buttercup had made the other night in the Rot had disappeared after Buttercup spent a week hiding out in her house avoiding Mitch and his friends. They were more than a little jaded. They'd assumed she was done hanging out with them, especially with school back in session.
Buttercup convinced them that she wasn't avoiding them, but was grounded for arriving home so late the night they spent in the Rot. Mitch pitched in too, saying she was busy with work. She had truly had been actively avoiding Mitch, so it was a little surprising that he helped cover for her. He might've been covering for himself too, but that didn't stop the warm tingle she got from Mitch having her back.
With school back on, she no longer had detention. She wanted to hang out, do something if they were cool with it. They were. Jennifer said she didn't care, but if she was going to be desperate about it, then she was free to join them.
Bitch.
She didn't know after school practice would be canceled but had promised she'd meet them after school anyway. It's not like she really wanted to spend her time running around a bunch of chicks out in the hot sun. Not when she could be spending her time hanging out with Mitch.
Yeah. Mitch was the way better option.
She walks as fast as she can, hoping they haven't left without her. It wouldn't surprise her if Jennifer convinced everyone to leave her behind. She sees the tree a few feet away, and thankfully they haven't left yet.
"Hey." She greets, breathlessly. "Sorry, didn't mean to keep you guys waiting."
Mitch nods his head, "No worries. Just got here."
"Yeah, but it feels like forever." Jennifer bites out with a hot glare directed at the clueless couple beside her, making out furiously. "Hey! She's here. Let's fucking leave already." She yells, hitting Lauren in the back of the head. The couple separate with a loud wet pop.
Gross.
"Ow! Jenni, that hurt."
"Like I care. Vamonos!" Jennifer yells again, storming away.
"I'd ask what crawled up her butt, except she's not acting any differently," Buttercup says once Jennifer is far enough away.
"She just misses Donnie. That's all. It's kinda sweet." Lauren explains, leaning on Craig as they walk.
Mitch and Buttercup give each other a look.
"Yea, real sweet," Mitch says.
"Lucky SOB. I still can't believe he got a job!" Craig complains, "Like what is even the point of staying at this crap school? I could be making some serious dough right now. Like what the—" Lauren stops walking and throws herself on top of her boyfriend. Stopping him mid-sentence with a kiss.
Buttercup pauses, stunned and makes her way as far from them as possible. "Uhh…what?" She asks, grossed out and confused.
"It's Lauren's plan to keep Craig from dropping out." Mitch explains, "I know, gross right? But I gotta say, it's been effective so far."
"Like hell it has!" Jennifer screeches out, having marched back to the group. "They're more obnoxious than ever, and Craig's complaining has increased if anything!" She throws a plastic bottle she picked off the street and throws it at their heads. The couple jumps apart with a laugh.
"Hey if I'm going to keep getting hot n' heavy kissing every time I complain, then there's no point in me stopping, is there?"
"Ugh!" Jennifer storms away…again.
"Wise man," Stevie mutters from behind her.
"You guys are seriously disturbed." Buttercup laughs.
"Pick up the pace!" Jennifer yells back at them.
"Geez, she reminds me of my sister," Buttercup mumbles. "Red hair and all."
"Shouldn't we be taking a bus or something? I can't walk that far with how fast Jenni wants us to go."
"Bus?" Buttercup questions, "The Curb isn't that far away."
"We're not going to the Curb. Donnie is still working, and Jenni wants to go visit him." Craig answers. "I can't picture Donnie working. He's the laziest ass I've ever met."
"Oh, won't it be fun? Going back to the Rot. It was so exciting last time." Lauren gushes.
Buttercup and Mitch share another look.
"Yeah…fun." Buttercup mumbles.
"Yea, well, it doesn't matter to me if you guys hoof it all the way there. I gotta get to the shop." Mitch says.
"You work today?" Stevie quietly questions. It's rare the times Stevie doesn't know something. He knows everything about everything. It's probably why he's so quiet; he's always listening for more intel.
"Yea. Dad just texted me that they're short-handed today and he needs help if they're going to complete their orders on time. Wanna come help? I'm sure there's some overtime in it for you." Mitch says, nudging her side.
She doesn't work today. With school and soccer, Buttercup has had to reduce her hours by half. Looking at Mitch's face, though, she understands that he's lying. Even though he asked in joking way, she can see the dead seriousness in his eyes. The only other time she saw that look was the night of the Rot.
"Ok" She nods her head, "Might as well take advantage of the situation and make a couple of extra bucks."
"Cool." Mitch starts to slow down his pace, preparing to head in the opposite direction from everyone else. "We'll catch you guys later."
"Yo, Bob's Burgers? Tonight? Donnie's paying." Craig asks, waving them goodbye. Bob's Burger's is a cheap little burger shack they usually eat at. It's not actually called Bob's Burgers; it's called Burger Lord. Ghetto rip-off of Burger King. The owner is named Bob, though, and even though they're his best customers he always complains that they make too much noise, so Craig started calling him Bob's Burgers to annoying him some more. The name kinda stuck.
"Pfft." Mitch spits, "Like hell, Donnie's ever going to pay."
"He should now that he has money. We're planning on using Jenni to distract him while we raid his wallet." Lauren looks up ahead to the angry red-head that has no idea what they're talking about then whispers, "But don't tell her I said anything."
Buttercup laughs, "Yeah, that seems like a smart plan."
"We'll catch you there." Mitch answers.
Mitch and Buttercup detour down a familiar dirt road. They walk in silence for a while, trying to create some distance between them and everyone else—anyone else that might be listening.
"So…" Mitch starts, "um, how you been?"
Buttercup groans, "You know I am so sick and tired of everyone asking me that. I mean, I know you're asking for a different reason, but still…fucking annoying."
Silence follows. They keep walking and the familiar sight of abandoned cars signal they are close to the shop. They're only a few feet away when Mitch suddenly stops walking. Buttercup stops too, turning back to face him.
"You know he's not really expecting us, right?"
"I figured but it's not like he'd be surprised to see us, and I meant what I said about using the extra cash."
"Buttercup." Mitch sighs
"What Mitch? You were the one that said to go on like nothing happened. That's exactly what I'm doing."
"I haven't seen you for a week. I'm worried, can't I be worried? What's going on with you?"
Buttercup grunts in frustration, "I'm sorry, Mitch, that I haven't taken the fact that I saw a person get run over better. I saw a fucking person die! I can't just forget that!"
"Buttercup!" Mitch says shushing her, " Not so loud."
"Why?" Buttercup hisses quieter, "Who are these people that could be hearing? Why can't we go to the police?"
"Buttercup," He says her name calmly, too calmly like he's trying to calm a hysterical child. "I told you. What we saw that night—we weren't supposed to see that. I know it's bad, but things like that don't happen in the Rot by accident. People can literally get away with murder there because everyone knows the police won't investigate—don't care to investigate."
"That's because no one goes to the police!"
"For a reason!" Mitch lets out a breath, "People don't go to the police because sooner or later everyone finds out who snitched and what happened to that man could very well happen to us. I know it doesn't seem right, but it's just not safe and not just for us but for your family too. Besides, you don't know what all that was about. I mean, not to excuse what happened but...nobody that dies in the Rot is innocent."
Buttercup drops her gaze to the floor, taking in everything that Mitch is saying. She knows he's right. She questioned his logic at first, but something about his begging tone made her realize this was something Mitch had experience with. She didn't want to ask, didn't want to unearth any skeletons he had buried, so she listened and kept her mouth shut.
Still, the guilt is eating away at her. Not to mention the images of the broken man laying dead on the street that are keeping her up at night. She likes gore and horror, but seeing it in real life isn't as cool as she once thought. She clenches her fist tight.
"That doesn't make it right." She mumbles, her head hung low.
"I know," Mitch whispers. Then he does something completely unexpected; he hugs her. They've never hugged before, not even when Mitch gave his condolences for her father's death. It's weird but in a really really good way. His chin sits on top her head, and her ear is pressed up against his neck. She can hear his breathing, and she knows that sounds dumb, creepy almost, but it's the closest she's ever been to him, and it's amazing.
Buttercup, not wanting to let the moment go, wraps her arms around him, her fingertips touching. He's thin, but she can feel the lean muscles underneath. She knows he hugged her to steady her, comfort her, but she feels even shakier than before. Her heart is beating faster, and she's clammy all over.
Butterflies. That's what Bubbles calls it, and that must be what's she's feeling now.
"There's something else I have to tell you," Mitch speaks, breaking the hug. Buttercup tries no to let her disappointment show. "It's the reason I lied about Dad needing me at the shop. I needed to talk to you in private."
Buttercup stares at him, confused by what he might mean. Mitch takes another breath.
"I know you've been going back to the Rot."
Buttercup takes a step back her fists clenched even tighter. "What?"
"You don't have to lie to me."
"But…I mean…I haven't." Buttercup pauses, the look in Mitch's eyes dead serious once more. "Fine. Yeah. I have been back to the Rot—but only once! How the hell do you even know? Are you following me?"
Mitch shakes his head, "No. I…I went back too, but not…not to the same place. I was just skating around, wanted to get…I don't, info, I guess. It was dark that night; I wasn't sure if anyone had seen us. Anyway, I heard some guys talking. About this girl that kept showing up to this one place, circling it like she was looking for something. I asked what she looked like and where they've seen her, told them I was looking for my sister that ran away and well, the description fit you dead on. Buttercup, what were you thinking?"
"I wanted to see if he was still there. I don't know what I expected. I kinda thought…he'd still be there, but there was nothing. No body, no tire marks, not blood stains—nothing."
"Buttercup, that was stupid dangerous. You shouldn't of gone back."
"What do you mean? You went back too! How the hell was that any less dangerous?"
"I went back to the Rot, not the scene of the crime!" Mitch huffs.
"Is that why you pulled us away from everyone, to keep me from going back to the Rot?" Buttercup barks.
"Look, I don't wanna fight. I'm just saying, maybe it's best that neither of us go back there. Especially you, someone has seen you."
"Mitch I get it, but…you don't understand. There was nothing. NOTHING. This man existed one moment and the next he was gone and whoever did it covered it up so that whoever knew this man would never find out. They will never find out. He'll be just another a missing person, and there will be nothing to bring them peace of mind. There's no….justice. There's…nothing."
Mitch stares, and he's usually such a relaxed guy, but she can see the tension written all over his face. She feels guilty for all of this. If she hadn't gotten so pissed off at him and walked away, he never would have followed, and he wouldn't be in this mess. It's her fault, so it should be her burden alone to carry.
"I'm…sorry…didn't mean to overreact. Let's just drop it. Like you said, pretend nothing happened."
Mitch smiles a small lop-sided smile, "It's okay, just...you know I'm here for you, right? Feel free to unload on me anytime you want."
Buttercup lets out a deep breath, "Right, I wouldn't make that promise if I were you. Honestly, you're the best. I would be running around like a chicken with its head cut off if it wasn't for you."
"Nah." Mitch says, his smile stretching wider, "You're too cool for that."
"You think?" Buttercup asks, an identical smile on her face.
"Course. I mean other girls would've balled their eyes out, but you just spaced out."
"Oh right, 'cuz shock is so cool."
"Better than the alternative."
Buttercup rolls her eyes, "For you maybe. Whatever, so we gonna go to work now or what?"
"What? You were serious about that?"
"Hey not everyone can afford a lavish palace like the one you got." Buttercup jokes, already walking towards the shop.
"Or right 'cuz a home on wheels is the height of class, right?"
"Duh." Buttercup laughs, playfully punching him in the arm.
"You know what, I take it back. You're a dork."
"Pfft. You're the dork."
"Please."
The air around the two is much friendly walking into the shop. Mitch's seriousness and concern are replaced by his easy-going smile. For a second, Buttercup can believe that nothing is wrong. They're just two normal kids messing around. Except, that's not the case. Something happened. Something bad. Something horrible. It's going to take more than Mitch's cute smile and reassurance to make her forget what she saw. What that more is? She doesn't know, and even though she's not thinking about it now, later tonight as she struggles to fall asleep, she'll be wishing she knew what that more was.
In another city, not too far from Townsville.
"Back on board!"
Passengers traveling on the Greyhound are quick to eat the last of their meals, take the last of their pictures, and shuffle their way back on the bus.
"10, 11, 12…15…" The driver takes count of the passengers going on board. "25." Having finished his count, he sits back in the driver seat, ready to shut the doors when a figure stops him.
"Whoa, hold on. You almost left without me." The young man says, holding open the door.
"I'm sorry sir. Do you have your ticket?" The driver asks.
"Yeah, about that." Suddenly the young man raises his shirt, revealing a gun tucked in the front of his pants. "I'm guessing that's all the ticket you need to see?"
"Pl…please…I don't…"
"Quiet." The young man hisses, stepping in closer so that no one can hear them. "I'm not gonna hurt you, or anyone else on this bus. I just need to get somewhere, and you're the only bus that's passing through there. So, as long you keep your trap shut and drive on like nothing happened then I won't be forced to use this. Got it?"
The driver shakes his head, too fearful to say or do much else. The young man moves to sit in the closest seat to the driver, directly behind him. He takes his gun and places up against his back.
The driver jumps up, "Don't…please…" he whines.
"Shut up. This is just insurance, in case you feel like doing something dumb and calling the cops. Now go on, I got places to be."
The driver nods his head again and after a minute of shaking and fumbling around, finally gets the bus going. For the first fifteen minutes, the driver is quite except for the faint whimpers that escape him. The young man considers easing the gun off him to stop his pathetic whines but decides to jam his gun harder into his back. He's not merciless, but fuck if he's going to put up with all this pussy shit. It's not like he even hurt the guy.
"Ummm…sir?" The driver finally says, the pathetic whimper still obvious in his voice.
Dame, fucking relax already. "Yeah?" He answers, jamming the gun into his back again.
The driver groans, "Where…where, um, are you heading? Where should I drop you off?"
A smirk works its way on the young man's face.
"Townsville."
Author's Note
I Know! I Know! I took way too long! Sorry, I wanted to post the next chapter of one of my other stories before I posted this one, I thought it was only fair. To be honest I've had this chapter ready for almost a month now. Whoops! I was actually going to wait some more and post chapter 5 at the same time, but I feel bad for keeping you guys waiting. On the bright side, I'm nearly done with Chapter 5. Yay!
Also, I want to thank all you lovely people that read, liked, favorited, followed, and reviewed the story! Also, I want to get in better touch you lovely people so I was considering doing reviewer acknowledgments at the end of every chapter (like so I can answer everyone's questions or thank everyone personally), so let me know if you guys would like that. Also, the links on my bio don't work, but you can get in touch with me through my Tumblr of the same name: . com
Spoiler Alert: Brick and Butch do make an appearance in the next chapter. Brick more than Butch. Him, Mojo, Princess, and Seduce will also be making an appearance!
Alright then! See ya next time!