Chapter Three: Softball and Detention
Bulma and Chichi made their way out into the gymnasium with everyone. All the girls from the locker room were crowding together so as not to be left alone without someone to talk to. That was the last thing anyone would want on their first day of gym. That horrible feeling that everyone was watching you out of the corner of their eyes and you had no one to fall back on. And even though you were well aware that no one cared if you stood alone because they were all focused on the same thing you were. At that moment, Bulma was thankful that she had befriended Chichi and had someone to talk to. It would have made her face go red if she had to stand alone. Especially when she noticed Vegeta exit the boys' locker room, followed by Goku.
Vegeta was in a dark blue wife beater and baggy blue gym shorts. Goku was wearing a blue t-shirt with orange gym shorts, but he was hardly on Bulma's mind with Vegeta standing right next to him. He looked so relaxed compared to everyone else, like he didn't give a care for anyone in the world. As if nothing mattered to him. He wasn't fidgety or glancing around at everyone else whom he believed was staring at him, which Bulma surprisingly noted was a lot of people. Instead, he talked calmly with Goku about something, who just nodded with a childish smirk on his face.
"… Isn't he?"
Bulma turned to her raven-haired friend. "Excuse me?"
"I said he's gorgeous, isn't he?"
"Who?" Bulma said, hoping Chichi hadn't noticed the way she had been looking at Vegeta. It was more like staring, anyway.
"Goku, silly. Who else?" she giggled.
"Oh…" she replied, "Yeah." She turned her head back over to Vegeta's direction to find that he had moved. Bulma's blood warmed when she realized why. Maron was following him around the gym in a pair of black short shorts and an extremely tight tie-dye shirt that exposed a silver bellybutton ring and way too much skin for Bulma's liking.
"Oh, God," Chichi moaned, following Bulma's eyesight to Maron running after Vegeta, who was almost to them by now. Goku wasn't far behind.
Chichi walked over to Vegeta and nodded once as she passed him. Vegeta turned and stopped to Bulma's right. Instantly, her shorts felt a little too short. She felt awkwardly exposed with him standing right next to her while she was wearing something other than jeans. Goku then came up to her left, and she felt even more uncomfortable. She knew it was crazy and unintentional, but she wanted to get away from him so as not to give Chichi the wrong idea and ruin their two-day friendship. She quickly shook off the outrageous feeling and turned her full attention to Chichi, who was now heading straight for Maron.
Yet, before anything could happen between them, the gym teachers called everyone from their class attendance. Bulma followed Chichi to happily find out that Maron was in a different class than them. She mentally did a happy dance at the good news.
When everyone's names had been called and the people who were absent were marked absent, everyone in the class was told that they were just going to play softball because nothing was planned for the first day of gym. This seemed a bit odd to Bulma, but it was apparently something that everyone was used to. She would have originally guessed that softball was as good a plan as any, but then she guessed not, shrugging to herself.
"Where are we going?" Bulma asked as they crossed the parking lots.
"The softball and baseball fields," Goku replied, "We always go up here. It's like the gym class domain, if you know what I mean, other than the volleyball courts back inside, but we don't get to play that unless it's cold outside."
"Which I think is extremely stupid," Chichi added, "We should be able to pick what we want to play. Don't you think?"
Bulma just nodded, not really listening to Chichi as she looked ahead at Vegeta. A big hill came before the fields, and she watched in awe as his lower leg muscles moved flawlessly with every movement he made to walk up the steep hill, passing the metal wire fence with elegance to be admired for in a teenage boy. He had easily passed everyone else and was almost to the top of the grassy slope already. He looked so natural, as if the speed at which he was climbing the hill wasn't even making his legs work. The way his broad shoulders moved forward and back in rhythm with his thick arms made her want to drool. His tight shirt gave away every muscle in his chest, and now she could clearly see the defined layers of muscle on his neck and shoulder blades with the sunlight directly on him. He was an angel sent to torture her. That was all she could come up with. There was no other explanation—
Bulma let out a high pitched yelp as she slipped down the hill, her knee scraping the grass and dirt. She could instantly feel when the skin had come off and she was bleeding by the unique pain of having dirt and grass in a freshly opened scrape. And before she knew what was happening, she had rolled backwards to the bottom of the hill, scraping her back against the metal wire fence that blocked the sports equipment from accidentally rolling into the parking lot. She didn't think her back was cut enough to bleed because of, thankfully, her gym shirt.
"Miss Briefs!" the teacher called as the students stood around, staring at her. "Are you alright?" the teacher called to her again, this time running down the hill to meet up with her.
Feeling a presence next to her, she looked over to find Vegeta kneeling down next to her, looking over the scrape on her left knee. Her face instantly went scarlet. Wait, she thought, wasn't he just at the top of the hill? How did he…?
"Miss Briefs!" the teacher called again, and Bulma wondered what yelling at her was supposed to accomplish.
"She's fine," Vegeta said, standing up to face the teacher as she finally reached the bottom of the hill. Bulma noticed how it had taken her about three seconds, which was way more than what Vegeta had done. The funny thing was that she hadn't even noticed him move. She hadn't seen him run to her or kneel down. And if she wasn't mistaken, then she hadn't blacked out, so that was no longer an option for an excuse.
"Excuse me," the teacher said, ignoring Vegeta's comment on his analysis of her scrape and even daring to push him out of the way to get by.
"Really," Bulma said, standing up as well, "I am fine. Look," she added, hopping on her left foot. She was barely bleeding. There was only a bit of up-ripped skin. The tiny bit of blood that had leaked out was dried already and it had easily stopped.
"Do you want to go to the nurse?" the teacher asked, and Bulma just shook her head, giving emphasis to the fact that she had previously said that she was perfectly fine. "Are you sure?"
Bulma nodded once more before the teacher turned to walk back up the hill. Bulma looked around to find that Vegeta was back at the top of the hill. She guessed that he would have to have an overall excellent physical skill to be able to move so fast up such a steep hill. Then she thought about what Chichi had told her the previous day in art class. About the last time Vegeta was at a party. And how she had said that he helped her build a shed and that she knew he had better-than-average physical abilities. She wondered if that was why he could move so fast. But Chichi had also said that he didn't want to show everyone what he could do… So why do it now? … For her? She felt herself blush at the thought.
Everyone got into two single file lines, as if they already knew what to do. Bulma followed Chichi to the girls' line and was given a number which was supposed to be her team. Luckily, she was put on the same team as Chichi, who was currently upset because she wasn't with Goku. When Vegeta walked over to the outfield with Bulma, her heart did an expected jump.
"You forgot something," he said, handing her a left handed glove. "Don't want more than one accident per day," he added, smirking at her.
"Thanks," she replied, taking the glove and smiling at him. She shoved it on her left hand and watched as two girls fought over who would be the pitcher and who would be the catcher. When it was decided after a wasteful thirty seconds, the first pitch was thrown. Bulma tried to keep her eyes on the ball, but Vegeta was standing behind her in the outfield, waiting for a strong hit from one of the boys on the opposite team. She became nervous again, wishing she was wearing a longer pair of shorts. What if he was looking at her? What if he only took one glance at her for the entire game? She would want that one glance to be the best one she could give him, but she didn't know how to act. She didn't know if she should shove her chest out or suck in her stomach or push her butt up. She didn't know if she should run her hands through her hair or leave it be. She didn't know what to do with her arms. She could fold them across her puffed out chest, but that would give him the impression that she was insecure. She could just let them hang there, or place them on her hips. Or she could move them around as if she were blocking the sun out of her eyes or waving away a bug that was in her face. And then she couldn't figure out what to do with her legs. She didn't want to stand with them crossed to give him the impression that she really needed to use the restroom. She could place them straight or bend one knee. She could constantly move to make believe she was actually doing something or she could bounce up and down or pretend to kick a rock or something. She could place one foot flat on the ground and have her heel kicked out in front of the first with her toes facing upward. Overall, she had no idea what she should do to make him look at her.
"Miss Briefs! Pay attention!" the teacher called to her and she looked up and around to find that the ball had landed to her left. But before she could even bend over to grab it, Vegeta had run over and picked it up. He chucked it to first base, getting a player out, the first one of the inning.
"Sorry," Bulma said softly, well aware that at her current volume, no one would be able to comprehend or even hear her apology.
The next batter came forward and Bulma recognized Sharpner from his shiny blonde hair. Even though Vegeta didn't like him, she could understand why a girl would like him. He was muscular and his hair was gorgeous. Bulma came to the obvious conclusion that she should have come to a high school a hell of a lot earlier in her lifetime. She was now seeing what she had been missing her entire life, and she really liked it.
Sharpner took the pitch with a heavy swing and smashed the ball so that it flew way over Bulma's head. When she turned around to watch it fly, Vegeta was running towards its landing point. As the people all over the field watched him in anticipation, he reached the softball's intercept point and jumped, catching the ball for the second out of the inning. People cheered at him and his play as he threw the ball back to the pitcher's mound. Bulma didn't know what the big deal was about his "unique physical abilities". While he had been running, he had been going the same exact speed that everyone else would have gone when trying to catch a hit like that. It hadn't been anything special. She guessed that Chichi was exaggerating a bit when she had told her about him being able to move so fast. She wondered why she would have let the thought persist in her mind so much throughout the day. High school was probably just messing with her head more than she thought it would.
"Three outs!" the teacher called as a boy got out for being greedy and trying to reach the second base when it was plain and obvious that it would have been impossible for even a cheetah at its top preying speed.
After the third out, Bulma walked over to the bench area and dropped off her glove.
"Bulma!" a happy voice called, and she turned around to find that it was Yamcha. A part of her was happy about his unexpected arrival, but another part disliked it a bit.
"Hey, Yamcha. I didn't know you were in this class. Sorry I didn't see you before. My bad," she said, rubbing the back of her head in embarrassment.
"I just noticed you were in this class as well. That's ironic, isn't it?"
Bulma smiled and nodded at him.
"But we're on opposite teams," he added with a frown, "I would have rather had you on my team," he whispered, making Bulma laugh. She handed him her glove and went to the benches to sit down, Vegeta right behind her.
"Boy-girl order, please!" the gym teacher called, "And don't make me repeat myself!"
A girl Bulma didn't know went up to bat first and made it to first base. Then, a boy she didn't know followed after, taking first and sending the girl to second. The girl that had fought over being the pitcher went next and filled up all three of the bases. Bulma noticed when everyone looked to Vegeta. She lightly elbowed him when the area went quiet.
"What?" he asked, clearly not wanting to be touched, let alone elbowed, by her. Bulma noted how a few girls looked satisfied by his apparently "acceptable" response.
Bulma nodded toward a small boy holding out a bat for the spiky-haired teen.
"The bases are full already?" he asked, seemingly knowing what they wanted. Bulma guessed that it came with his reputation for being physically superior.
He took the bat and went to home plate, banging the metal onto the sand, creating a good amount of dust. The pitcher threw the ball underhand and he didn't move as it whistled by him. The ball was thrown back to the pitcher and she tossed it underhand at him again. Once again, he didn't make a move. The ball was thrown back to the pitcher's mound. She rolled the softball in her hand and then threw it overhand, fast. Vegeta swung the bat and made contact with the ball. Bulma instantly felt bad for it, flinching away, seeing the evident force behind his follow-through swing. He dropped the bat and ran at a normal person's sprinting speed, which Bulma made sure of, to first base, then second, third base and, finally, home plate, sending everyone on each of the bases home.
After the clapping and cheering was over, their teacher announced that a girl needed to go next. Chichi shook her head violently at Goku when he motioned for her to go, so Bulma decided that now was as good a time as any. She grabbed the bat from the catcher from the opposite team and stepped up to home plate. She used to play baseball and softball with children in South America and southern Europe when her parents had conferences to go to. She never thought anything of it before, but was presently glad that she had given herself some practice in the past.
On the first pitch, she swung the bat and hit a grounder that was almost a foul. Dropping the bat in the sand, she ran and made it to first base just in time. Another boy she didn't know stepped up and hit the ball into the right field, giving her the opportunity to get to third base without any trouble at all.
After that, Chichi was shoved ahead. She didn't look like she was the type of person who felt safe with a metal bat in her hands. She looked nervous and Bulma could see the shiny sweat beads on her forehead, even from the distance away that she was from her.
Chichi tapped the ball on the second try. The pitcher ran forward and threw the ball to second base as Bulma sprinted forward, heading for home plate.
"Out!" she heard the teacher yell, and guessed that they had gotten the boy that had sent her to third two battings ago. Her foot slipped and she tripped over the sand. She was still on her feet, but she had passed home plate without actually stepping on it.
"Touch home, new girl!" she heard a boy yell and she spun around. It would only take a couple steps to reach it. She moved in what seemed like slow motion to her. One more step to go.
"Watch out! Here comes the ball!" a girl in the field yelled, and Bulma wasn't sure if the statement was directed towards her or anyone willing to listen. She took her final step and was relieved when her foot landed on the plate without being tagged out or seeing someone else's foot reach home plate before her.
"Look out!" another girl called.
She then looked up and her eyes opened wide in shock and fright. It looked to be way too late to dodge the softball that was now aiming straight for her head. She didn't care. She tried it anyway. She moved her head to the side and felt the ball tip the side of her face. It wasn't extremely painful, but it was enough to make her clutch her face and turn away. The teacher ran over to her and told her to sit down on the sand.
"Are you alright? That's twice now, Miss Briefs. Maybe it's time you took a break," she said in an I-told-you-so kind of tone. Bulma felt like slapping her, but knew that her parents would have to go out of their way to get involved, and that was the last thing she wanted to do, especially since her mother had specifically told her not to get into any trouble before the school year had even started.
"Are you alright?" the teacher asked again, seeing as she didn't answer the first time she was asked. "Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous? Can you stand up?"
Bulma nodded that she was okay and then looked over to find everyone staring at her as if she had just grown a tail. She wondered if they always did that to people who were injured in gym class.
"Everyone," the teacher called, "Take a walk around the field. We'll continue the game in a little while."
Bulma went pink. Why did the game have to stop because of this? She felt her face heat up with chagrin and made it a point to constantly look at the ground below her. She didn't want anyone to see the dramatic discoloration of her face. She then saw Vegeta's white shoes out of the corner of her eye and groaned to herself. Why the hell was he coming over? She was fine. There was nothing wrong. She was hit with a ball. People get hit with balls all the time, she reassuringly thought to herself, and then shook her head, trying to get her mind out of the gutter for once in her life.
"Mr. Ouji," the teacher said, preparing to give him a task, "Could you please take Miss Briefs to the nurse's office?"
What?! Bulma thought. No! Absolutely not! I'm perfectly fine. I don't need to be walked anywhere. Especially by him!
She was pulled to her feet by her elbow and a big, firm hand was placed on the small of her back, turning her and leading her away from the softball field. Away from everyone else… She emotionally shivered. She loved his touch on her. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It sent influential shockwaves up and down her back.
"Are you going to make it down the hill without falling this time?" he asked her, smirking, and she scowled at him, unwittingly shoving his hand off of her and making her way slowly down the hill. When she was close to the metal fence, she allowed herself to go a bit faster and then caught herself on the fence. As they crossed the parking lot, Vegeta's replaced his hand on her lower back, leading her to the doors with his hand.
"I thought I told you not to get hurt a second time, woman," he smirked again, moving to hold the door open for her. She nodded her appreciation, but it was short lived as she scowled at him again. Why was he making fun of her like that?
"Wrong way," he mocked as she made to turn left down a hallway, pushing on her back so she would move to the right.
"You don't have to push me," Bulma spat, turning around to shove his hand off of her again before turning back to walk down the right hallway, "It would be much more efficient if you would just tell me where to go."
"That wouldn't be as much fun," he snorted playfully. When Bulma didn't smile back, he added, "Next left and it's the second door on the right."
"Thank you," Bulma said, evidently not thankful in the slightest. "Why do I have to go to the nurse? I'm fine, really."
"I'm not taking you to the nurse woman," Vegeta smirked and Bulma stopped walking.
"What? Where are we going?" she asked, continuing to blow off the "woman" crap that he continued to call her by instead of using her name.
"The principal's office."
Bulma sighed. "Oh, right. I forgot about that. But won't we get in trouble for not going where we were sent?"
"I doubt it. The gym teachers don't do any work. They won't go out of their way to find a problem, especially the one that we are stuck with." Bulma's heart did a double beat when he used the word "we". It just sounded so right to her in more ways than one.
"Why are we going now? We still have all of gym class to wait out, don't we?"
As if on cue, the bell for the next period rang, causing Bulma to put her hands over her ears at the same high pitched ring that she doubted she would ever get used to.
"Not anymore," Vegeta shrugged, placing his hand on her lower back once again and leading her down the hallway. They reached the end and made a left. Vegeta stepped forward and opened the second door on the right, walking in first and holding the door for her from the inside until she held it open by herself.
"It's nice to see that you made it," the pregnant Chemistry teacher called from the back of the office. "You do know why you're here, don't you?" she asked, "Because it would be very helpful if I didn't have to go over that part once again, Mr. Ouji, Miss Briefs." As she said their names, she acknowledged that someone was still missing. "And where is your girlfriend, Mr. Ouji?"
"My what?" Vegeta asked, a bit of a laugh in his voice. Bulma felt a little hurt by the obvious fact that he didn't go out with girls on a regular basis based off of his tone when answering her.
"Well, Maron, of course. Aren't you two going out now?" the teacher asked, and Bulma took a note that this was a gossiping teacher. She guessed that the information she had just gathered may, in some way in the near future, help her out a bit.
"What? No!" Vegeta snorted, offended by the very idea. "Not even close." Now, there was something that brightened Bulma's day up by a long shot.
"Hey, Vegeta!" the most annoying voice in the entire building called as Maron entered the room, shutting the door behind her with more force than necessary for a dramatic entrance. That's a wonderful way to enter a detention, Bulma thought sarcastically. "How's my favorite boy?" she asked, slapping him on the shoulder. Bulma could've sworn that she heard him hiss.
"Welcome to detention," the teacher said, and Bulma guessed that this was also the woman's lunch period. And by the look of her plump stomach, both she and the unlucky child were nearly starving to death. Good. Bulma didn't want to be here that long either. "I'll now reward you with your punishment."
Bulma took one more glance at Vegeta and Maron before the teacher continued.
"A few classrooms need to be painted blue and white for our school colors. That's what you three will be doing, starting today after school. All three of you will be separated so you can't talk to one another, and you'll be dismissed when a janitor comes to get you. And don't think that you can slack off, because it will only earn you more work and a bad reputation." She stared at Vegeta for a few moments, sparking Bulma's curiosity once again. She had to remember to ask him about that later. "And don't even think about not coming, because then I will make your life a living hell. Do you three understand me?"
They all nodded their understanding, although Bulma doubted that Maron understood anything that she was just told.
"Then, you're all dismissed. Go enjoy your lunches." And with that, the pregnant chemistry teacher was gone.
Vegeta stood and Maron stood to purposefully get in his way. Bulma stood as well and walked over to the girl, preparing to be polite.
"Excuse m—"
"Get out of my way!" Vegeta bellowed, pushing Maron to the side. Bulma rolled her eyes and shrugged at Maron as she followed out the door after him.
"Vegeta!" they heard her call after him, running to catch up.
"Leave me alone!" Vegeta yelled to her, not bothering to turn around.
"Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?"
"You're constantly bothering me and you don't know how to take a "NO"!"
"Does that mean you don't want to go out with me?"
"What do you think it means?! That I want to fuck you up?! You're not even worth my time, whore!"
Bulma watched Maron start to cry, taken aback by how Vegeta decided to handle the situation. She thought it was a bit harsh for him to say such things to a girl. Especially one that was this fond of him.
"Vegeta," she sniffled, "I only want to be your friend. I never wanted to offend you. Why do you have to treat me like garbage all the time? All I want is to talk to you because you're always ignoring me." She paused to choke on her tears and attempt to stop herself from sobbing.
"And for good reason, too. Why don't you just stay away from me? I'm sure it will benefit both of us a hell of a lot more than you think it will."
"You know what?" She screamed down the hallway, getting angry, "If you don't start being nicer to me, then I'm going to tell everyone your big secret, starting with this new girl here! You seem to enjoy her company a little more than usual! What are you waiting for, a good fuck from her?! Well you won't get it if I tell her your secret before you get the chance. Just because she's naïve doesn't mean that she'll invite a monster to her bed—"
Bulma watched as Vegeta slowly lifted a hand, palm facing Maron, and wondered why a look of absolute and unconditional fright took hold of the outward appearance on her face. And what secret was she talking about? And what did she mean by saying that she was naïve? Did Vegeta only want her around to have sex with her and then toss her in the trash? She would have never thought such a thing, but it was kind of strange how he only talked to her and made her feel like she was special compared to every other girl in the school. Was that really what was going on? Was she being taken advantage of?
Vegeta walked over to Maron and leaned next to the sobbing teen to whisper something in her ear. Bulma strained to hear what he was saying, but couldn't have done it even if her life depended on knowing what he was telling her. And then, Maron wiped her tears away, smiled at Bulma's dream boy, and walked away at more of a skip than a walk.
"What was that about?" Bulma asked when Vegeta came closer to her and Maron was officially gone. He didn't answer her. Instead, an odd expression appeared on his face and he walked past her. Bulma was left in the middle of the hallway. By the time she decided to turn around, the spiky-haired teen was long gone, giving her time to wonder what his expression was for. And what it meant. It had been a mix of anxiety and panic. What would make someone like him have such an expression on his face… ever. It was a mystery to Bulma. But that wasn't the only mystery.
As she made her way to the cafeteria, Bulma came up with a few secrets that she thought Vegeta could be hiding from her. Or was it bigger? Was he hiding it from everyone? All she knew was that there was only one person who she was certain would know the answers to all of Bulma's questions…
Chichi.