NOT MY TYPE by katocchi
6. She's always fucking early.
"He shoots, he scores! The crowd goes wild!"
Faking the cheer of an audience, Boomer throws the basketball, and from the sidelines, Brick watches it sail through the air, bounce off the backboard, and land perfectly in Butch's hands. There goes Boomer's attempt at manifesting dreams into reality. Butch blinks, then takes the opportunity to score an easy point.
He whoops, doing a celebratory spin in the air. "Try aiming for the hoop, Dumb and Dumbest!" he sneers and sticks out his tongue.
Falling to his knees, Boomer groans at the sky. "I was so close!"
"Alright, next round is between me and Brick! And this time―" He stops. "The hell? What's that sound?"
Brick looks around. The street's empty. Just old chip bags getting caught in storm drains and stray cats darting around wrinkled trees. A carjacking wouldn't be a surprise in a neighborhood like this, with its rusty chain-link fences and cracked courts and buildings sagging with the suffering of their inhabitants, but there are no car lights going off. It doesn't sound like a car anyway.
"Oh, that's my alarm!" Boomer jogs over to their bags. Sweeping sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes, he swipes at his phone. His towel is already thrown over one shoulder. "I gotta go."
"But it's Saturday." Butch hovers, trying to peek at Boomer's screen. "Don't tell me you're going to study on the weekend."
"I got a date with Bubbles in a few hours. There's a new cat cafe on the other side of town."
"And what, you need to pretty up before then? Pamper yourself?" Butch pretends to pat powder onto his cheeks.
Boomer aims his water bottle at Butch's face and squeezes with an annoyed glare. "I'm just going to shower. Not like you know what those are."
"Oi, asshole, the Butch takes showers!" he sputters, flicking water out of his fringe. "Girls tell me I smell good all the time!"
The youngest only shrugs, smiling impishly, and darts into the clouds with a parting finger flip. A navy blue streak shimmers behind him, pointing straight towards home. Butch is still fuming.
"The nerve―he's the baby, Boss. He can't talk to me like that!"
"Is he wrong, though?" Brick raises an eyebrow in his best What can you do? look before picking up a towel himself. "I should go, too. Got a lab report to finish up."
"But it's Saturday. Can't you stay for a few more games?" Despite his towering height, he circles Brick like a lost and disappointed puppy, feet barely brushing the ground. "Playing by myself is boring."
"Call up BC."
"Can't." Butch huffs. He scoops up the basketball and spins it on a finger, pushing it round and round until the black lines blur. "She's helping the Professor today, something about repairs for his new machine."
"Then make friends. Find hobbies. Learn to knit and make me a hat."
"Haha, very funny," Butch grumbles. He comes over to pick up his things, too. "Everyone's so lame. I might as well meet up with Bloss now."
That gets Brick's attention. Blossom and Butch don't have the worst relationship, but she can't stand him, and even with his penchant for teasing, he gets bored spending too much time with her; so why are they seeing each other on the weekend? Brick leans against the fence. She didn't cave into Butch's persistent demands for a date, did she?
"What d'you mean?" Brick says as casually as he can, eyes trained on some random article on his phone about a garage fire. None of the words register in his head, but the faked nonchalance serves its purpose.
"We're partners for a stupid health project, but I figure it's a good thing. I don't even have to read the chapter. The meeting's not until four, so I was going to play some more, but if you're leaving, I should get it over with."
"Four? Like four o'clock?" He swipes at his phone again to make sure he's not going crazy, but no, the lock screen flashes 2:03pm like he expected. "You still have two hours."
Butch turns to him, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, practically the image of disbelief, and Brick hates the implied snicker. What he hates even more is Butch saying, "She always comes mad early to meet ups. Did you...not know that?"
Brick's not sure what's worse: him knowing and admitting that he notices things about Blossom, or him not knowing and admitting that there's a Blossom fact that's new to him. Being counterparts doesn't mean he knows everything about her; after all, do Butch and Boomer know everything about theirs? Actually, now that he thinks about it, one pair are best friends while the other pair are dating, so maybe they do. Still, Blossom's tendency to be early is well-known, even to people who aren't her destined rival, and if it wasn't common knowledge, he would've found out by now. He's worked with her on assignments before. Blossom was always at the arranged spot by the time he arrived―which he did on time because he wanted to get it over with, not because he was respecting her schedule―but two hours? That's excessive.
Butch huffs and crosses his arms. "If you don't believe me, come and see for yourself."
He bites back the okay that threatens to slip too eagerly, settling for a tilt of his head. "Sure, I guess. Not like I have anything better to do," he says. On his desk back home, his lab report is probably sighing.
.
.
.
Butch looks too smug for Brick's liking; he's tempted to punch it straight off his brother's face. Brick didn't even do anything. Sure, he insisted that they should go shower and change first, but that didn't mean shit. Brick only wanted to not be sweaty and gross, and he had to get his notes, so why is Butch smirking like there's some kind of hidden agenda here? There's nothing.
"She's at EstrellaBucks right now," Butch says, arms folded behind his head.
It's an attempt at looking laid-back, but Brick knows that the true, hidden intent is to flex, proven when his brother clicks his tongue at a passing blonde. If his face wasn't obscured by obnoxious sunglasses, he'd probably send her a sleazy wink, too.
They turn the corner of the street, coming to the edge of one of Townsville's public squares. Stores line three of the four sides, leaving the last side open to the main road, and even without his enhanced eyesight, Brick picks out Blossom's signature red bow immediately at the other end of the pavilion. It flutters in the wind as she bends over a textbook, cheek resting on a fist.
Butch stops at the first table, plops into a seat, and gestures at the other ones. "I don't feel like doing work yet. Let's stay here."
"Capers Garden?" He points at the logo on the overhead umbrella. "Are you going to order?"
"Eh, maybe in a bit. C'mon, don't be shy; get comfortable!"
Blossom sits by herself at a round table, the opposite chair occupied by her bag. The space is just big enough for her textbook, a notebook, and a few writing utensils. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recalls her complaints about the size of EstrellaBucks's tables, though it's her preferred place to meet up with group mates.
"Do you believe me now?"
"Uh-huh."
Her hair shines in the light like waves of fire tumbling over her shoulders; it's one of his favorite things about her, something he's loathe to admit. Whether the perfection is because of hair care or because of stupid Powerpuff perks, he doesn't know, but the feeling of braiding it ghosts over his fingers.
"I didn't believe it at first myself, but then I showed up randomly and she was already waiting."
"Yeah."
She's wearing a blouse he's never seen before. It's off the shoulder with flowing bell sleeves. Light and semi-translucent at the arms, perfect for the warming weather. Even the flower pattern match the growing buds on nearby trees.
"She just...sits there. Says it's better than being late, but I don't get it."
"Mhm."
And her eyelashes are so long. He never got a chance to notice before; she's never been still like this, at peace like this, in front of him, but now that he's looking uninterrupted, she's so...delicate. His vision zooms in on her face. Her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks, and if she glances up, he'll be metaphorically diving headfirst into a pool of rose petals or whatever else her eyes can be compared to. Yeah, exactly like that.
Wait.
He freezes as her eyes widen, then narrow. Surprise, recognition, suspicion. Shit, shit, shit. He drops his gaze, blinking rapidly to reset the magnification, and his vision swims at the sudden change. He should do something―maybe play it off like he wasn't staring? At least he wasn't the only one caught, right?
"Butch, you motherfucking traitor," Brick hisses once he glances at his brother.
Butch somehow managed to whip out his phone, both hands occupied with typing nonsense into his notes app. How did he get the device out of his pocket so fast? Across the pavilion, Blossom shoves her things into her bag and waves her way through the crowd to get to their table. He should think of an excuse before she comes over. Okay. Um. Uh.
"Butch. Brick. Butch," she says once she arrives, fingers curled tight around the back of the extra chair. Brick can't seem to look up. "If you're here, we should do work. You could've texted me, you know."
"Oh, I wanted to enjoy a coffee before calling you, that's all," Butch replies innocently, holding up a to-go cup that Brick swears he didn't have before. "But you're welcome to join us if you'd like, sweetheart. We can get started now."
Blossom drops into the seat with an irritated huff and yanks open her bag to set up her work again. As she opens up the health textbook and her laptop, Brick realizes with a jolt that he actually has no reason to be here. It's pathetic; all he heard was her name and Butch's taunting lilt, and that was enough. He's merely third-wheeling on their study session, and as much as he likes tricycles, he's not interested in making this more awkward for himself.
He slides to his feet.
"Where ya going, Boss?" Butch slips his sunglasses onto his head. "Stay with us. You don't have anything better to do today, right?"
Brick scowls, hefting his bag onto his shoulder. "I have a report to do. I'll go to a library or something to get it done."
Blossom side-eyes him, and he bites back the urge to run. Please don't bring up what happened. She purses her lips as if rolling words over her tongue. Please, please don't bring up what happened. He hasn't thought of an excuse yet.
"The tables here are big," she finally says, focusing back on her laptop. "If you don't bother us, you might as well stay and be productive."
Quips. Sarcasm. Huffiness. These, he can work with. He relaxes into grouchiness, an attitude he wears like a second skin, and the smirk that tugs at his face erases the lingering traces of embarrassment.
"If you need me here because you can't handle Butch alone, you can say so, sweetheart." He rocks back on his heels. He can practically see her inner switch flip.
"I can handle him fine," she snaps. "Worry about your grades instead of me; your calculus notes are crying for attention."
"Yeah, well, your last bio test―"
"Can you two have your dick measuring contest later?" Butch complains. Twirling a pen in one hand, he nods at his notes, a page of chicken scratch that Brick doubts has anything to do with their current project. "I'm trying to get an A here."
"...fine."
.
Butch pulls at the ends of his hair before blowing a raspberry. "Ugh, my brain's going to melt." He groans.
Brick ignores the string of whining that follows, having heard them too many times over the years. It's always the same thing: why can't I drop out of school? School's for losers anyway. Good grades don't mean anything. It's not like I'll be getting a job; I'll marry some hot chick with a sports car and two yachts. Like a broken record, this kid.
Butch sits up straight, cutting off his own rambling, and announces loudly to no one, "I'm going to take a break."
Jumping to his feet, he raises his arms to the sky, and without glancing up, Brick and Blossom automatically slam their hands onto the table to keep papers in place as Butch shoots into the air. Typical of him to not fly off quietly. Once the wind settles, Brick blows his bangs out of his face and leans back in his seat.
"I'm going to get something to eat," he says with a look at his phone. They've been there for a while now; it's a surprise they haven't been shooed away as non-paying customers yet. A waiter nearly did, but Blossom flashed them a saccharine smile that had them stumbling back to their post. Another dumb Powerpuff perk. "You want anything?"
"A panini and milkshake would be lovely―just tell them I'd like my usual. I know the owner here." She takes out her wallet.
He gets up before she can offer money. "Don't worry about it, Pink; I got it."
She tilts her head, fiddling with the heart charm that hangs off the clasp, before humming. "Alright, I'll get it next time then."
Next time. The promise of it shouldn't make his footsteps so light, but they do.
a/n.
happy monday, everyone! aha, i know i promised this chapter back in march, but school and life got kind of crazy. at least it's still monday...? anyway, i don't think i'll be sticking to a schedule in order to be gentle to myself. i hope you enjoyed this chapter anyway! kind of missed writing brick.
next chapter: she works so fucking hard. some upcoming monday, 2021 LOL
aeris (contact me on tumblr at aerysian!)
TROPE BINGO: left the background music on
