NOT MY TYPE: SPIN-OFF 2 by katocchi
Brick traces circles on the track-pad with his thumb and watches as the clicker icon swirls on the screen. It spins faster than the loading bar, which continues to inch forward with false promises of You're up soon!, and he wonders not for the first time why he's wasting his study hall for this. He could just lie to Bubbles, right? Tell her that he tried to join the ticketing queue but lost out?
As if Blossom could read his thoughts—partner privilege, she often says, and he has to tamp down his satisfied smile—she leans over in her seat and pushes his shoulder.
"Don't you dare close that tab," she says, voice low in warning. "I do not want Bubbles on my case about this."
Her laptop is on the same page, but the number on her screen is thousands behind his, even though she opened it seconds after him. Until that moment, neither of them realized that Bubbles's warnings were truth and not exaggeration. Between them sits Blossom's cellphone on a four-way call, connecting them in study hall to Bubbles at lunch, Boomer and Buttercup in class, and Butch coming back from an appointment. The phone is muted but connected to her wireless earbuds, and Blossom unmutes briefly to ask what section she should aim for. Instead of Bubbles's usual chipper voice, she gets a long suffering sigh.
Blossom shoots him a look, as if to say See what I have to deal with?, before listening carefully to her sister's instructions.
"Anywhere in the front sections of the floor, the places right next to the stage, is ideal," Bubbles says, voice distant. He can hear faint shouting in the background. Near the soccer field, then. For a brief second, a sick thought flits through his head: wouldn't it be awfully tragic if a stray ball flew over and knocked her phone out of her hands right as she was about to reserve tickets? He lets out a sound that's half-laugh, half-snort at the rampage his imaginary Bubbles goes on, growing to the height of a skyscraper and chomping beeping cars into bits. "But anything with a backstage pass or VIP package is my dream—I can deal with bad seats for that. And there's no budget! I've been saving up for a while. If not, sections 105 and 106 are pretty nice, too..."
She rattles off a few numbers that mean nothing to Brick, but Blossom writes them down with thick underlines under the best areas. Brick's queue ticks closer to 1500.
Suddenly, Butch's voice cuts in with a holler of, "Holy shit, I got in! Bubs, you owe me big time! I just got you fucking second row seats!"
And with all the reflexes of someone who dodges monsters for a hobby, Brick pulls his earbud out just as a sound barrier-piercing shriek rocks the school. The students around them wince, clapping their hands over their ears, and from his peripheral, he sees a streak of baby blue shoot off into the sky, colliding directly with a green streak that must be his brother.
He hangs up the call as Bubbles showers Butch with all sorts of thank you's and praises. Blossom only shakes her head.
"I don't get it," she says, curling and uncurling her fingers, "but I'm happy for her."
"I'm sure Bubbles says the same thing when you line up for the local book signings."
"Okay, at least with those, the authors see me face-to-face and talk to me. They even write little notes in my books. Speaking of which." She digs around in her bag before pulling out a new novel. Hardcover with a pretty dust jacket, just the way she likes it on her bedroom shelf. Before he can catch the title, she opens it and reveals a whole page covered in Sharpie with a signature squeezed into the corner. A heart-felt letter, he's assuming. "I saved the author of this one a few days before the signing, and I didn't want to mention it, but she recognized me and wrote all of this. Isn't that sweet?"
"I guess." He squints. "I can't see."
"Oh, here, let me—"
He interrupts her by reaching over and pulling her chair right up against his, pointedly ignoring her gaping face as he leans in to read, an arm draped over the back of her seat. Of course, he could've just lifted her chair, but then it wouldn't make the loud screech that draws everyone's attention. The cherry on top is how the weight of everyone's gaze makes the tips of Blossom's ears turn bright pink.
"Brick!" she hisses, propping up the book to cover her face. Her shoulders hunch over her ears. "You can't just do that!"
"I just did, though?"
And now she's seething, magenta eyes straight up murderous, which only makes his heart flutter. So he likes a strong woman. He mentally shrugs. Step on him—I mean, sue him.
Seriously, he can't believe he spent so long convincing himself to hate Blossom when messing with her, talking with her, being with her is this much fun. He twirls her hair around his fingers as, under her breath, she rattles off the many ways she could hurt him before the bell rings. Someone's been getting trash talk lessons from Buttercup.
From in front of the room, the study hall proctor clears his throat. "Mr. Jojo, if you're going to flirt with Ms. Utonium, please do it on your personal time. Your fellow students are here to study," he says, putting a heavy emphasis on the last word with a look over his reading glasses. "And for the love of all things good in this world, I hope you weren't planning to kiss her."
"Sorry, sir," Blossom squeaks out, planting a firm hand on Brick's face and shoving him away. He did get pretty close, but to be fair, he was trying his best to hear her every word. Brick may be an asshole, but let no one can say that he never listens to his girlfriend.
"Sorry, sir," Brick echoes with absolutely no sincerity.
He glances at the clock. About twenty minutes left in the class period. He wonders how many more times he can rile Blossom up before she freezes his hands to his desk...or sign them both out to go to the "library."
a/n.
happy monday! i'm so glad that the main story of not my type is done because now i get to write silly chapters like this as spin-offs. consistent characterization? who is she? i just like putting these characters in fun scenarios and letting you all read it. hope to see you all on another monday! reminder that you can find me on tumblr (aerysian) until then
aeris