The next day at lunch, we were all talking about what happened at the skate park.
"The Queen has lost her throne," Bella said, gesturing at me.
"What happened? You used to be the Queen of Concrete!" Melvin inquired eagerly. I shrugged my shoulders and sighed as they began chattering amongst themselves, forming their own speculations and reasons of what happened to my dexterity and technique.
I began to drift off into my own little imagination, utterly immune to their bickering and aloof to the rest of the world. As an Aquarian, being mentally detached and isolated came characteristically to me. I cocked my head to the side obliviously, gazing dreamily into the distance. Butch caught my gaze and mirrored my head movement – not in a mocking way, but rather as if we were holding our own conversation with no words exchanged.
"Hello? Buttercup!" Hanna called out to me.
"What?" I snapped, startled.
"I said do you wanna go to the mall with me next week?" she repeated in exasperation.
"Sure," I answered quietly.
She flashed me a final look of suspicion before pulling her iPod out of her binder pocket and plugging the ear buds in.
As I was walking towards home after school, the gentle breeze whipped my hair slightly. I stopped to gather my thoughts for a moment when I saw Mitch. He was resting silently in the old oak tree, securely nestled between the branches. He had his hands clasped together in his lap, twiddling his thumbs obliviously, in deep contemplation.
Without thinking, I walked up to the tree. When he finally noticed my presence, he grinned slightly and held out his arms. I absent-mindedly obliged, placing my hands in his as he lifted me up into his lap. He gently laced his fingers through mine, slightly cautious as to not make any wrong moves.
I closed my eyes and listened in content to his heartbeat. Though I hated him with a passion, it still felt good to lay here beside him.
"What's on your mind?" he asked carefully, his body tense as if to be prepared for a necessary escape.
"Nothing much…. You?" I asked calmly.
His body relaxed a bit.
"Kind of nervous about the date Friday…"
He leisurely looked up at me, a hint of longing in his glistening blue eyes. I sensed there was something he wasn't telling me. But at this point I didn't really give a damn.
"Buttercup….?"
I looked up at him in anticipation, urging him to continue.
"I… I didn't mean to steal your title… I was just kind of… trying to impress you…." He clarified reluctantly.
Those were words that I thought could never come out of Mitch's mouth. This couldn't have been the same narcissistic, smart-ass, egotistical bastard that I knew. This Mitch was sensitive, and actually had thoughts running through the brain I thought was nonexistent. Still wasn't impressed.
He swallowed, and then glanced up at me. I purposely avoided his eye contact. After about five minutes of silence and tranquility, I sighed.
"Well… I'm gonna go home now…?"
"I'll help you down," he suggested as he gently took my hand.
"I got it! Damn, you act like I'm handicap or cripple!" I scoffed as I recklessly leaped onto the ground.
"What kind of dumbass are you? You could have broken your ankle!"
Mitch was back. The real Mitch was back.
"Dipshit! I know what I'm doing!"
"Okay, whatever you say," he replied sarcastically as he came down from the tree branch.
I scowled at him.
"You can't intimidate me, Butter-butt," he replied as he lifted me into his arms bridal-style.
"What the –"
"Shut up."
"Where are we going?"
"What do you think?"
I thought a moment.
"You know where I live?"
"Let's just say that Bella told me some stuff."
"Jerk-off!"
"Bitch."
I closed my mouth, more out of astonishment than fear or timidity.
It was finally Friday. Mitch was supposed to be taking me on a surprise date. I couldn't understand why I was even the slightest bit anxious—he is just a guy, after all. But, I had to admit – there was a part of me that felt that he was different at the very most.
Walking into my room, Blossom noticed my outfit. It wasn't anything fancy at all – normal clothes for me. It was just the fact that I was dressed at all and wasn't sleep or at the least in my pajamas.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
I turned down the music blaring through the speakers and turned to her.
"What did you say?"
"Where are you going?" she repeated.
"Uhh… out?" I answered vaguely.
She walked over to me and sat down on my bed.
"Look. It seems like you're getting home later and later. Where have you been going these past couple of days?" she ranted, giving me a stern, solemn look.
Hearing Blossom's lecture, Bubbles walked in and plopped on the bed beside us.
"Buttercup, where are you going?" she asked, more out of curiosity than worry.
"Just out."
"It won't be long…" I assured.
"Just tell us what you've been doing. You can trust us," Blossom insisted calmly.
I cleared my throat.
"Well… there's this new guy Hanna introduced me to… his name is Mitch… and we had a small bet, I lost, now I have to go on a retarded date with him."
"Finally! Buttercup's finally not a tomboy!" they screeched in unison.
"I'm not gonna change my ways for him! I'm still rough and tough! No feelings for him what so ever. Just mutual acquaintances."
"You're in denial."
"Whatever."
Then, suddenly, the doorbell rang.
"That's him," I said quietly.
Blossom and Bubbles sprinted to the door, leaving a trail of pink and baby blue behind as I nervously followed. When they opened the door, I was just walking into the room.
"Hey, Mitch. We're Buttercup's sisters," Bubbles greeted politely.
"Nice to meet you," he replied.
"Let's get this over with," I said, walking to the doorway.
He smirked when he saw me, his royal blue eyes glistening.
"Well, just text us when you're coming home," Blossom said before closing the door.
We walked towards the driveway. I looked down at my neon green Converse as the grass crunched beneath my feet.
"Got a bike?" he asked.
"Yeah… why?"
"Just go get it."
I turned to get my neon paint splattered bike and came back suspiciously. Then, his tall, ruby-red bicycle caught my eye.
"Is it fast?" I asked in awe.
"Nope—it's freakin' rad."
"Where are we going?" I asked curiously.
"Follow me, Butters," he directed me as he hopped onto his bike.
I steadied myself onto my bike and pedaled fast to catch up with him. We rode past the park where frisky, adolescent children were playing and romping in the warm breeze. As I turned my gaze from the park that brought back memories of my childhood fighting crime, I spotted a child crying alone, sitting in a corner—far away from the other children.
Instinctively, I rode over to the side of the road and laid my bike down. Noticing that I was no longer behind him, Mitch pulled over in silence. I may have been tough, but I've always had a soft spot for kids.