It had been one day since my elaborate return from Feli's and already I was forced into grief… Kirkland hadn't been happy with my running off with Alfred, but I hadn't really cared then.
But now I was ashamed… so very, very ashamed…
Okay, actually, maybe more afraid then ashamed, but… same difference. They both started with A anyway.
I pulled myself tighter into a ball, my eyes fixed on the book strewn a few feet away from me. Arthur wasn't going to be happy when he found out about this. For the first time in my life I wished that I hadn't asked to be informed once my machine love, the computer, was open yet again. If only I knew how to fix this…
But I wasn't going to read the goth book again. Because, apparently, the pictures have nothing to do with the corresponding spells. Nopedy doo. I just had to learn that the hard way.
I sighed, burying my head into my soft arms. Why did I have to ask Minty about the goth library? Why did I have to see what it said about containing spells was true? Why did I think that there might be a spell in here to help me? Why did I have to give all this junk a whirl?
…Why did I suddenly have to obtain the ability to cast spells and curses?
I looked down at my newfound boobs and then quickly back up, both blushing and grimacing at the same time. I really needed to learn to think things through. Or, at least when going into magical rooms that I was banned from. I shouldn't have gone in there, no matter how badly I wanted to help my situation. It was a stupid, half-thought out plan anyway. I mean, really. What good would summoning fairies do to me? Sure, I planned to interrogate them, but would they seriously answer? They'd probably fly away, and even if I did catch them, I'd probably kill the delicate things in the process. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
I slid out of my ball and onto my knees, my upper torso seemingly gaining ten pounds. Ick. I didn't know how girls could stand having their body types. It was torture. Maybe this was because I wasn't exactly used to this, but still. Of course, there was that, and I was pretty certain my female self was a little top-heavy, even for a fourteen-year-old. Not that I stared at my… my "girls", or anything like that… Or… Well… I did… but when your chest is suddenly protruding way further than it normally would, it's kind of hard not to stare. I'm not a pervert!
…Actually… yes. Come to think of it, I probably am. But putting these matters aside… I began to mourn.
Why fate? Why me? What did I ever to wrong to land me here in such a state? Wait a second…I stopped my thoughts for a moment. Never mind, fate. Ignore that last question. I didn't want to make fate angry by raging at it with lies.
I lifted my shirt (my face burning a bit in the process) and began to tie it tightly underneath my chests. It was a makeshift bra (don't ask about anything). When I moved, I jiggled, and that was almost as queer as Death groping my heart. I yanked the knot, but the shirt wasn't nearly tight enough, so I undid it and tried again.
As I did so, I heard a long and low whistle that caused me to look up. I saw my favourite ghost floating toward me. Yippee. I lowered my gaze again. His appearance still quite creeped me out a bit. Not as much as it did the first time for some reason, but still a bit.
He laughed and sat (while still floating) beside me. "If you go out like that, the boys are gonna chase you, and then your gonna be all like 'I'm sorry boys! But alas our love shall never be!' 'Less, of course, your gay, in which I apologize."
I yanked the knot real tight and swerved my body a bit. This idea of mine wasn't really helping matters much, but it was still better than leaving myself be. It would do for now.
"I like the female sex, don't worry." I attempted to look at his face, but that resulted in failure. I just kept my focus on his right shoulder, the only part of his body that didn't seem to be torn to shreds. I gave a derpy smile to the shoulder. "I might have to make a switch, though, if Kirkland or me doesn't fix this soon." I got another laugh from Jolly Jack.
"It's Kirkland and I," he corrected, not that I really cared. "Speaking of the git, I wonder how he'll react to this, hm?" That was exactly what I didn't want to find out.
…Hang on a sec, here… My gaze hardened a bit and Ghosty looked a bit confused because of that. "How did you recognize me… You know, Erin the male? How did you know that I wasn't some chick stopping by?" I didn't like… well, I guess not necessarily high-pitched… but how girly my voice was coming out. It was strange to hear. I didn't like that... But not half as mcuh as the boobs. I hated them.
"I saw the whole thing go down!" Jolly Jack bellowed, his expression returning to normal. "Here I was, just hanging out here," That was kind of weird and stalker-ish… "And then you come down here being all Double O Seven and all, searching the bookshelves. I hid in the corner of the room, seeing as what happened last time we encountered…" I winced at the memory, but started to feel… was that guilt? I sighed. Well, he was just trying to get on good terms with me and I ran away.
"I'm sorry if that offended you," I actually said honestly, which was surprising, because my apologies weren't normally honest. "You know, with what happened last time." Ghosty snorted before I could continue on.
"What for?" he retorted, "If anything, it should be from me to you! Besides, that was barely the reason anyway." Why bring it up then? "I hid in the corner 'cause I didn't want you to see me and say something. I didn't want to blow your cover!" Well, it was nice to know that Ghosty was supportive of my breaking of the rules in someone else's house, despite the fact that was how I landed myself in this situation within the bigger situation.
My legs were falling asleep, so I returned to my ball/tuck position, some of my now long locks falling forward. "You wouldn't know how to reverse this, would you?" I asked Jolly, getting another hearty laugh in return. My hoped rose a little.
"Nope! Sorry! Would if I could, but I can't make sense of that magical spell-y language no matter how hard I try!" You know, there was a thing to be said for hoping. Having hope was good.
Having hope in times such as this to get a flat out rejection response… not so much. It just led to kamikazes into the Sea of Despair… that was if you hoped enough. I hadn't had that much hope, so my plane of… whatever motivational word you want to call it, was still afloat, though still in the sea. Stupid book. Stupid pictures. Stupid fairies… pixies… whatever.
"Oh!" Ghosty perked up.
"What is it?" Ghosty had stood up, still forever hovering. He had a thoughtful hand to his chin and… appeared to be checking me out, oddly enough. I gave him a questioning look.
"You have a very fine figure… especially for a kid your age…" So he was checking me out. Pervert. There had better been a reason as to that… A good one too.
"You know, Arthur's, like, an omega virgin-"
"No." I cut him off. I didn't even want to know what he was planning. No. No way. Dang it. He'd already planted thoughts I didn't want to think, even though they were completely unrelated to this. Why? What was wrong with me? I tried to shove them out.
"…And with that…" Ghosty continued on, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "He is very chivalrous. That meaning, he probably won't get very mad at you… Or rather, he probably will, but he just won't strike you."
"He doesn't strike me anyway."
"Well shoot, now my planning didn't pay off one bit." I let out an exasperated sigh. This guy was hopeless.
"Your plan being…?" I cocked an eyebrow, folding my arms across my squishy chest.
"To be honest, I don't really know myself. It seemed pretty smart at the first second, but I forget what that even was." Like I said, hopeless.
"Though I gotta admit," he continued, smiling a bit bigger, "If I was told to imagine your wimpy man-self genderbent, I never would have thought it'd look like the hottie before me." Okay, so now I was presuming that he had checked me out for the sake of admiring me. No plan whatsoever. This guy was starting to get on my nerves. That last remark also didn't help matters one bit. I probably would've been real mad had I not known it was true. My man-self was a wimpy twerp that failed mom big time.
"So… you've got no idea of what I should do?" My hope plane was beginning to sink.
"Play innocent…?"
"Or hide."
"That could work too, unless you aren't going to fix this yourself."
"I'll hide for a week and then get Kirkland to fix this. Hopefully he won't be as mad."
"Either that, or he'll be ten times worse." That was a confidence booster.
There was an awkward silence and I was pretty sure Ghosty was about to say something, but then the door to the goth library opened. (Cursed, I tell you!) Oh no… I shrunk up against the wall again as Ghosty winked at me just before melding into the wall to who-knows-where. Or wherever stalker ghosts go.
Kirkland took a step in and I made myself smaller. Would Kirkland be mad? Oh wait, he was England, the place of people with reasonable arguments and sarcastic humor. He'd been annoyed with me before I even came here. Of course he would be. On that note…
I still hadn't told Kirkland that I knew that he was England yet. But I had hoped that I'd get to go home with my family there before any of that was brought up. I still felt like a creep for knowing more about him, then he did me (or so I assumed… and if I was wrong… then that was a little… no, lot… creepy.), but, I mean, first off, it wasn't that much more and… what could I do about it but tell him, which I clearly wasn't doing yet, or most likely, never? It would just worsen things. You know, for the same reason that, if wishes and nuts were candies and butts, we'd see which one filled up first.
Yep.
Candies and butts… heehee… Sewage mimes… "Look Arthur! I'm being abducted by aliens!"… lawl.
Ah… yeah… Kirkland would probably hate me if I used that sort of humor on him wouldn't he?
…
…
…Wasn't I freaking out just a minute ago?
The feeling of Kirkland's hand on my shoulder reminded me of that. I turned my face to him, my guilt returning.
"Don't tell me you dulled your senses too."
"Fine, I won't," I retorted, "I did the complete opposite and refrained from doing so." Good-bye guilt.
A long silence followed, and I believed that may have been because Kirkland wanted my guilt to re-settle and make me fess up and kiss his slippered feet or something. But that didn't work. My guilt was gone and wasn't coming back for a good couple of hours. If he wanted to make me feel guilty, he was going to have to use a different approach.
The compunction was coming back, however… And while I didn't want to kiss his slippers because of that, it made me want to plead for the keeping of my respect in this house which was probably quikly draining to nothing right about then.
"Please… please don't kill me," I squeaked pitifully, "I-I-I know that I'm not supposed to be in here and messing with your weird stuff, but… but…" My voice drained away as I had become too shame-faced to say much more about why exactly I was in there. I wasn't entirely sure of how that was embarrassing, but for some reason the thought that I had thought that I was helping by summoning fairies felt kind of lame. Especially since I failed. I didn't really think it would make Arthur any happier, either, though making him actually happy seemed to be an impossible feat.
"The fact that you're in here isn't my biggest concern right now." Kirkland sighed.
I pursed my lips and kept my focus downward, as if the dancing shadows on the floor were putting a show on for me.
…Oh wait… They were. I quickly realized that they'd taken on the form of some sort of peasant dance. Interesting…
I heard Kirkland rise and shuffle over to the book I had thrown before turning a few pages.
"Do you at least roughly know where you found the spell?" He asked dully, and I bit my upper lip, still watching the British hoedown. I honestly didn't know. I had just trusted fate to do its job… Meaning that I had randomly grabbed a book, flipped to an entirely random page, flipped three pages to the left… or was it right… and saw the misleading fairy picture. I didn't even pay attention to whether I was closer to the front or the back. I really needed to start using my head more often…
But I didn't want nor think that I'd be starting anytime soon.
"I-I was on page seventy-five… page seventy-five," I lied, standing up and making my way to the door. I didn't know why I was lying, it certainly didn't seem necessary but it was too late to correct myself by then.
"Where are you going?" He asked, his tone not lightening up one bit. I continued shuffling past him, avoiding eye contact.
"I have to pee," I mumbled, "Real bad."
That was a lie too (like heck I was doing anything that involved removing my clothes), but I didn't want to have to explain why the page was wrong. I needed to stall, if anything, to make me feel a little better for the moment.
I shuffled into the bathroom and locked the door behind me before turning to face the mirror. What I saw caught me off guard.
Man… those curves… Those curves! Ghostly really wasn't lying when he said I had a fine figure. I made myself feel bad for looking at myself. My shirt was tied so tight and so much skin was showing…
I blushed despite myself. I still had quite a few of my guy brain cells left it seemed (though I could kind of feel myself becoming girl-a-fied or whatever it's called). Though I wasn't untying the shirt until my chests were protruding as much as a normal man that doesn't have man-boobs did. I didn't have to look in the mirror, but I couldn't slice off my new boobs. That would be gross and would hurt and I would probably be putting my life on the line.
Yeesh… Ghosty also made a very valid point on how my girl-self looked positively nothing like my guy/real-self. As far as my male body went, while I had definitely hit puberty (some of the hairy, athletic types that were already growing moustaches disagreed, but I didn't listen to them), it was nothing compared to the chick in the mirror. She looked much older than a fourteen-year-old. She looked like she had started wearing a bra at eight or something.
Impressive… Most impressive… Ew. Gross. I sounded creepy. Even if it was myself, it was still creepy.
Then it struck me… Maybe the reason my female self was so beautiful was because it took all the hotness, smarts, and coolness from my male self. It all made sense now… Cruel, cruel fate. I still wanted to return to my former state though. Men were the superior sex after all.
…I needed to stop staring at myself.
I turned around, sighing. Kirkland had probably realized that I lied by now if he hadn't already. Come to think of it, did the book even have page numbers? Oh dear… Oh dear me…
I slowly opened the door and peered out. Seeing that the coast was clear and Kirkland free, I went into stealthy ninja mode and began to advance in the direction that led to my room.
Alas, it was not as easy a feat as I had imagined, as my boobage just kept me feeling awkward the whole way there (especially up the stairs), but I did it. But I did it. Even if it wasn't easy, it was possible. I ducked into my room and silently closed the door behind me. From there I sulked. I sulked about being a girl. I sulked about my boob size. I sulked about being here in the first place. I sulked about my failed spell.
But after about five minutes I got bored and decided that, if I was going to sulk it may as well be on the computer. I crept out of my room and into Arthur's where, needless to say, I was kind of surprised to find him, sitting on the bed, still reading the goth book. I wasn't entirely sure of why I was so surprised, he did have a right to move around his own house, after all, but I had just expected him to be in the library still.
Thankfully, but oddly, he didn't really take notice of me… or probably just didn't care to; but either way I progressed as normal.
Except that the device now needed a password. Since when did it need a password? I cast Kirkland a suspicious glare. He was losing his trust in me, wasn't he? But that didn't make sense since I was pretty sure I lost it by the third day. So why would he put the password in now? What was the reason? IT DIDN'T MAKE SENSE KIRKLAND!
I held my stare for a full five minutes… without blinking… before he finally noticed my gorgeous face.
…And in that moment I couldn't tell who was stupider; him or me. The little voice in my head was muttering that it was me, but only because my tear ducts had dried out and I wasn't able to blink anymore. He was still pretty dang dumb not to notice me… unless… he was just… ignoring…
AW, HECK! WHY KIRKLAND! WHY?
I had just been outsmarted by a Brit who basically just ignored me. By ignoring me he had outsmarted me. That was just plain stupid on my part, and now my eyes were paying for it.
Kirkland glared back at my glare, which was actually more of a grimace now, as I was trying to force my eyelids to close again. I could feel the vitreous humor drying out and it wasn't nice.
…And I wasn't joking. As inhumanly possible as it seemed, I was almost certain that my eyes were going to the point where no liquid would remain.
"What?" Kirkland asked.
I rubbed my eyes, successfully closing them. Thank goodness. They were seriously starting to hurt. I wasn't ever staring that long again.
"Well, for one thing, either you're going blind." I decided to leave the ignoring out of this. It would make the remark less… how would you put it… "effective" I guess… effective in having the best argument, which would probably still be beaten out by this guy.
"Your one to talk," Arthur huffed. I crossed my arms, much like him, and huffed back.
"Firstly, I'd think I'd notice if I'm being watched after five minutes!" Kirkland's expression did not brighten any. "Secondly, even if I didn't, not only am I a teenager, but I'm American. It is alright for me. You, on the other hand, are a British adult. Therefore, it isn't right for you."
"Have fun making friends," he replied sarcastically. That remark would've stung if it were not true.
"Too late!" I laughed, "I'm already friendless!"
I winced inwardly at my own comment, but my insides cheered at the same time. It was fun to make cracks about myself… but I knew that in the incoming school year, my lack of friends wasn't going to be something to brag about.
…But it was summer, the time when I wouldn't want to hang out anyway, so it was okay to do so.
Arthur rolled his eyes, but I kept up my façade.
"Now," I said in a commanding voice, "If you would so kindly tell me the code of passing to your computing device IN WHICH YOU SO KINDLY INSTALLED!" Kirkland looked up, bushy brows furrowed in annoyance.
"It's always been there. I don't see any point in getting uptight about it now." I felt myself get tenser and tenser. The main reason; because he was right. Again. Like always. I hated that so much.
When I thought about it, the boring blue screensaver was already there whenever I went on…
"It's KZY35OE," he continued, turning another page of the book. I blinked and then turned around to type it in to the system. As it loaded, I shook my head.
"Shoot. My password's always either 'poop' or 'constipation'." Kirkland gave me a look that plainly said 'You've got to be kidding me', but I ignored it. I turned around and impatiently waited for the internet to load.
"Hey Kirkland…" I didn't wait for an answer. "Do you mind if I listen to music?" I probably would even if he told me not to, but, whatever… I was seriously missing my Vocaloid loves dearly, especially in this time of such dire need of comfort. Gumi… IA…
"As long as it's quiet, then sure." Good man, jump in.
Sir Topham Hatt reference there… you know, before they ruined all the tank engines and the fatty.
…Anyway…
"Hey Kirkland," I half considered saying that ten more times in the next hour, but he was the one getting me back into my former state, so I didn't really want to push it that far. My brains had been missing for awhile now, so being a nuisance was inevitable, but getting it to the point that whomever was actually spending time with this child utterly gave up on me was something I could control. "Do you like Vocaloid?" He sighed. It was barely audible, but I still heard it.
"Do you want me to help you or answer your stupid questions?"
I glumly looked down at my boobs. "Both." I was an idiot. I needed my stupid questions to be answered. Especially now that I was a girl. A girl with hormones. The world was mine now.
There was a brief pause before Kirkland responded again. "I'll try." His voice had taken that dull, monotonous tone again, but I was kind of surprised that he actually answered. I thought I would've gotten another eye-roll for sure. Perhaps I was just so annoying that I became lovable after awhile, so people couldn't refuse me. In the adult world, at least. If it worked that way in school, I would have kissed a girl by now.
Then Kirkland actually kept his word and answered.
"Well, one would think I would, seeing as how it was my people that invented it."
"WHAT?" I spun around. Why did I not know of this?
Why was I so surprised?
Despite the possible reasons, in the end that was still a pretty epic fact that I didn't know. It looked like this guy wasn't all boring. I hoped these discoveries kept up.
But Kirkland liked da Vocaloidzzzz! What more could I ask for?
…A lot, actually, but this was fine for now. "Now" being the next ten minutes. But even so, this was awesomesauce. It was goodness for my ears after being away from it for so long. It was kind of like a dog coming home to the familiar scent of roast beef cooking. It was amazing.
…And it just proved that I had no life at all. But I didn't care.
The fact that I was listening to it with the stuffiest Brit in the world made it that much more awesome. A little queer, but still awesome. Though it would've been better if he wasn't there. Apparently, I didn't have the brains to think of listening in the past four days, so I figured this was what I got.
"Do you have a secret beer storage somewhere in here?" Didn't know where that question came from. Didn't care. That was something I had been wondering too. I mean, England, like, the landmass, and the person too, I guessed, had a history of pirates, yes? "Yohoho and a bottle of rum"?
"You think I'd tell you if it's 'secret'?" Whoops… Did I seriously put the word "secret" in that sentence? Rhetorical question. My bad. I had just wanted to know if he had anything in here whatsoever.
"I didn't mean to say that… But come to think of it do you have a secret storage place?"
"You know, I'd appreciate it if you at least listened or kept your mouth shut and your pointless questions to yourself." Well, that was rather rude.
…But it just proved that he did. Have a secret storage place, rather.
"…And, no," he continued, "I don't." Eheheheh… Liar. I smirked smugly and turned back to the screen.
…And then the most brilliant idea struck me. My brain actually worked that fast.
You see here, there's a thing in the twenty-first century that's all the rage and it's called the "internet". In the "internet" there are various "search engines". If you aren't getting me, please do not speak to me. Ever. Conversations would be awkward.
Anyway, I figured that there should at least be something in the vast world wide web that could at least have something to do with spells. Surely there had to be at least one thing to fix my girl problem.
Go figure, I looked up "spells" and got ten bazillion results. That was far too many, and most all of them appearing to have nothing to do with me and my situation, so I added in more keywords. I got only ten thousand results that time, but, guess what? None of them actually had anything to do with what I was searching for! But, I figured, one could not merely judge a book by its cover, so I clicked on various results for a good while. Guess what? My initial instincts were right and I wasted a half hour of my time!
I thought beck to how smart I had felt and was so proud of my accomplishment that I got off the computer and went to eat some cake! Yep. Please bask in all the sarcasm of that word "proud".
Now, I knew that it was pretty stupid to get so heated over such a minor thing, but my girl self was on PMS or something, and my two emotional selves were getting at a war on each other. Girl-self just happened to win this one because my male-self was hungry too. Why cake, I wasn't entirely sure, but I presumed that it had something to do with girls loving candy and sweets and all those things that make your dentist want to weep.
I rummaged through the fridge and after finding the cake, obviously, I cut myself a nice fat slice, and, too lazy to sit at a table, sat down with my plate right there in the middle of the floor and began to scarf the chocoholicness down.
…And then I heard a sound.
Now, normally I would have at least paid some attention to the noise that resembled a door opening, but the cake clogging my throat must have also blocked the passage to my hearing as well. However, it was kind of hard at least not to somewhat hear what came next.
"HEY ARTHUR!" Yet another accented voice bellowed, half laughing. "You home, ya bloke?"
I started choking on the cake. I wasn't out of surprise or anything, I just conveniently started choking right then. Obviously that caught the guy's attention, especially as I was never one to cough quietly, and apparently, my female self didn't either. She just sounded less scary in doing so.
"…Didn't know he was taking chicks home…" I heard him say quietly before feeling a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You okay, lass?"
I nodded my head vigorously. I was always fine… When it came to choking, anyway. In other cases I was fine until I wasn't. In which case I obviously wasn't fine. Mainly I didn't want to get whacked, though. When Alfred hit me, it had hurt. Not that I made a big fuss about it, instead I tried to ignore it, but if the leprechaun-sounding man just happened to hat that very spot again… ouchies for me.
Thankfully, my body got control of itself about as quickly as it had the night before, without a whack, and I looked up to the mystery man who had strolled in. (Why does everyone just let themselves in? Why doesn't Arthur just lock the door if he doesn't like it? I asked myself.) He had freckles, which I found convenient with his voice and all. In fact, he looked very… Irish.
Eating my cake.
Irishman eating my cake. Not a good thing to do when a girlman's on PMS and just failed the greatest plan ever… especially when that girlman's got a thing with people touching hishers food.
I scowled and yanked the cake away from the idiot.
Freckles (Ireland? I wondered to myself, but I wasn't going to be hasty with assuming yet… or, not in that moment, anyway…) laughed and I stuffed the rest of the cake in my mouth. Kirkland walked toward us from seemingly out of nowhere with his usual half-grimace-scowl etched into his features.
"You're tracking dirt all over the floors," he said boldly, and I took note that Freckles hadn't taken off his shoes.
He nodded, smiling a bit. "Aye, and you think I care?"
"Apparently not."
"I thought you learned that twenty years ago."
"Shut up."
"You're not supposed to answer rhetorical questions," I cut in. It bugged me when people were stupid enough to do so. The same went for sarcastic ones… which were the same, weren't they? Rhetorical question!
I got an eyeroll from that comment, but I ignored it. Freckled ruffled my hair, and I gave him a look sure to tell him that I was disturbed. Ever since Frenchie stroked my hair, it had become a creepy gesture. The fact that it had happened three times in the week didn't help. I didn't even know what it was that made my hair look stroke-able. My hair wasn't silky soft. Heck, I hadn't showered in well over a week.
"So where'd you pick up this cute little bunny?" he chuckled.
"Don't even get started on that."
"You're the one who took 'er home." There was a tense silence, but then Kirkland spoke up again. I began to pick up crumbs with my fingers and eat them. The crumbs; not my fingers.
"Firstly, it's a 'he'," he stated matter-of-factly, and that was kind of humorous to me for some reason.
"...And he got into my spellbooks." I pretended not to notice him staring my way and continued to eat the light coating of chocolate still on the plate. Freckles laughed, standing up.
"It's always the spellbooks, isn't it?" I hoped he wasn't being sarcastic, but I couldn't tell.
By now, I had started to feel a little awkward sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, so I stood up and put my still crumb-filled dish in the empty sink. When I turned around, Freckles was raiding the fridge as I had. Except, unlike me, instead of cake he turned around with a bottle in hand. A glass bottle. My small smug smirk returned. Knew it.
Oh wait… but he said… no "secret" storage… not plainly in the fridge…
I had to stop doing this to myself. It was just making Kirkland look better even though all he did was sit there and look pretty. But also, why hadn't I seen them before? The bottles, I mean? Weird. I was going blind. Maybe I mistook them for tobacco sauce…
"That's the only reason as to why you came here, isn't it…"
"No, my house was bombed by those bloody American dolts and all my money burned and I wanted a drink." With that, Ireland (Whoops… "Freckles"…) popped off the cap with a device from his pockets. I eyed him enviously.
I had always wanted to know what beer tasted like. Not that I wanted to be a frequent drinker or anything like that. Oh no… I didn't want to risk becoming an alcoholic. But ever since I saw the drink I had always wondered what it tasted like. For obvious reasons mom wouldn't let me, my brother, or even my dad near the stuff, whether it was hidden away in fridges or out in the open at New Year's parties and such. But I just wanted one sip…
"Yes, okay," Kirkland started, ushering Freckles to the door, "I'll come help you tomorrow. You have your drink. You can leave now. Good-bye." The two left the kitchen, and seeing an amazing, but quickly decided opportunity, I quickly whipped open the fridge again and shoved my way to the back, where the bottles were. I smiled a bit, despite myself.
"Wait. Wait. Wait…" I heard the heavy Irish accent say in the other room, "You honestly think I came out here for a beer?"
"No," Kirkland replied slowly, "You're passing through and want a drink on the way home, wherever you came from. Not that I care." There was a brief silence, and then Freckles spoke up again.
"Shoot. I didn't know you loved me so much, brother." Nations could be related? I shook my head. Nah… I must've been hearing things. Either that or I was probably over-thinking again.
"Knowing you has nothing to do with love." I struggled to pull the cap off. I thought my fingers were going to start bleeding. For a brief second I wondered if it was worth it… but I decided that it was. Especially if I got home soon. With my parents there. Whether or not my brother had to return was something I didn't care the most about. Not that I was overly confident about that… but it had been nearly a week of Kirkland's "helping" whatever the freaking heck that was. I honestly didn't know how he was, but, apparently, he was.
I yanked with the greatest force I ever had, and finally the cap came off. Unfortunately, my fingers got sliced in the process. I almost dropped the bottle. The key word being "almost". I didn't drop it. I was safe.
I wrinkled my nose at the smell, but immediately took a big gulp.
…Which I almost spat out. It wasn't that it tasted terrible, but my body just couldn't handle it. It burned, actually… burned my insides. It wasn't the greatest feeling. I continued to choke the liquid down and made a face. I figured alcohol took some getting used to… or rather, tries. I examined the bottle.
Well, there was no better way to get my body to adapt than by chugging the entire thing down, right?
…But then I'd get drunk, wouldn't I? I didn't really like the thought of losing control of myself, especially in this genderbent form much less with Kirkland just around the corner. Oh yeah… he could walk in on me any minute now, couldn't he? Rhetorical question!
I had planned to take only one gulp and then out it back, so that wasn't as much a concern. But that was the worst drink ever.
Okay. Just one more. One more sip. No chugging it down.
I put the bottle to my lips, and as promised with myself, took only a sip. Well, it was a pretty big sip, almost a swig, but still a sip. It still sucked big time. No magical sudden adapting and yummy goodness, for better or worse. I looked at the bottle semi-angrily before trying to put the cap back on again, which proved to be unsuccessful. I settled with balancing it loosely on the rim and slid it down the counter away from me when I heard Kirkland's footsteps returning. I rushed over to the sink, picked up my plate and began to eat the hardened crumbs off it again. I was totally unsuspecting. Now a few years before I could try it again…
"Seriously?" I slowly and jerkily turned to see Arthur holding up my half-drunken (Huh… must've drunken more than I thought…) bottle. Well, looked like I hadn't made myself look innocent enough. I tried to put on an innocent looking face anyway. I presumed it looked even more guiltless because I was in the form of a girl. Or maybe not, seeing as how I was braless with my torso utterly revealed, and I wasn't untying it yet. I licked a few crumbs off my fingers, still trying to keep the helpless, pitiful image.
"You never said I couldn't drink that." That was a classic line that always worked.
Kirkland grimaced in annoyance and crossed his arms. "That's where common sense comes in."
"I'm not sure if you noticed, but that's a skill long forgotten by me."
"Clearly."
"No durr. If I actually had brains I probably wouldn't be here today." Because, if I actually used my head, I probably would have come home before my family disappeared.
…Where were they, anyway? Where had they gone? Unless I really had landed myself in the world of Hetalia, in which my family just so happened not to exist in. But if I was correct, which, being me, I probably wasn't, but then Hetalia land was pretty much Earth but with a hundred something more people who had been living for a good couple of centuries or millenniums. For example, Joan existed in both worlds.
Unless only the people who changed history remained in both. In which case, I still should've been around because technically everyone changes history, yes? If someone's merely glanced at you, you've got a place in their mind. Even if it's barely a noticeable change, things still would be different if they hadn't seen you, yes? The brain would have that much less information. The person's neurons would have reacted differently in that moment. It changed things.
…Said the guy who still had a bruise on his face because he mistrusted a darned pixie and feared getting shot, so he hid behind a car and just made himself more suspicious.
I decided to stick with the dream theory. It made the most sense. Besides, if I existed now and met myself, it would cause a world exploding paradox. So I shouldn't have been there when I was there, but it was strange that I wasn't there while I was there. This was a strange Xzibit dream, that was all.
But perhaps to balance things out, fate had removed me from this world so my other self, this self, could live without endangering human kind.
But then why was my family gone too? Maybe my coming screwed up everything…
Yeah right. I didn't chose come here. Something or someone unnaturally sent me here and I highly doubted that they were some sort of megamind trying to take over the Earth. I was over-thinking things. Big time.
How did my brain switch from my lack of common sense to this, anyway? Answer: the same reason why I asked about secret beer storages while thinking about music. Speaking of which…
As if to mock me, Kirkland was finishing off the bottle I started. He was totally rubbing it in that he wasn't underage. If he was thirsty he could've had some juice! At least, in front of me in my over-emotional state. The git, as I had heard Arthur say.
I pouted and licked a few more chocolate crumbs off my fingers.
Notes: "I'll update faster." "I have big plans for the next chapter."
Eheheheheheh... Lies! D:
First I went on a quest to find my sense of humor, which didn't really work and then I joined ten bazillion fandoms (DC, Marvel, Lord of the Rings...) and then I ended up finding my sense of humor but it sucks!
...And then I couldn't even come up with a chapter that doesn't jump around from topic to topic...
...
*teary eyes* If you guys are honestly still keeping up with this trash of a story... you...
THANK YOU!
YOU GET FREE INTERNET LLAMA COOKIES! - That's the humor I found within myself. But still, thank you so, so much!
Now to find a GOOD sense of humor before I write a note longer than the story! ((And... if you guys actually still like it, I promise not to take this long to update. This is not a story worthy of month-long updates, I know.))