Forever Means Never

Welcome to Pokemon High

        She blinked. She pushed her glasses up higher on her face. The chubby professor in the baggy navy blue suit droned on. She blinked again, her brilliant azure orbs looking tired and forlorn. She was lost. Not exactly in the traditional sense of what “lost” would be depicted as, but lost soulfully. Words flew around in her mind, bursting at the seams of her thoughts. She so badly wanted to write them down. She glanced up at the professor blabbing on about which moves were the most powerful to the advantage of water-type Pokémon. She knew she would get an infraction if she wasn’t paying attention to his lesson, but the words buzzed angrily in her mind, begging to be written down. Her hand gripped her pencil as she gave in and placed it on the paper, continuing her work of art.

        “The sun glittered in the air, the light refracting through her small gold compact mirror. A small tear quietly rolled down her cheek as her hope slowly dwindled. “He’s not coming back…” she thought as she turned towards the run-down house. “It’s all my fault. I’m going to get punished.” Another miserable thought popped into her mind as she shuddered, cringing at the chance of another beating back at the warehouse. Jamie took a last sad glance at her lush surroundings, the field where Ned promised he’d be back. Where Warner whispered sweet-nothings into her ear and then blabbed to her enemy. Where her Cottonee left. A figure floated in the distance as her tears hit the compact dirt. She gasped as she saw the Cottonee drifting towards her. She thrust her small hand towards the grass-type, her deep blue eyes wide and innocent with joy and love. The Cottonee jumped into the girl’s arms, finding its home at last. Jamie’s eyes welled up into tears as she cried, “Oh Cottonee! I can’t believe you’re back!! I-I-I-Don’t ever leave me again! I know it’s bad in the warehouse, but we have each other. A-and Ned. It’s okay.” her shimmering eyes welled up with happy tears asembraced the Pokémon in a tight hug. “Let’s face this together.” She whispered to the animal as they walked up the steps of the creaking house. The rotting wood door disintegrated at her touch as she exchanged worried glances with her Pokémon. She gasped as a gloved hand wrapped around her-“

        “TOUKO!” the balding professor shouted, his plump face growing red as he shouted at the girl. “H-huh?” she asked, looking around the room as she came out of a hazy stupor. The old man sighed as he rolled his eyes in impatience. “Is there something you would like to share with the class?” he asked, his eyes filled with annoyance. “Uhm…No. Sorry Professor Elm.” She squeaked, her eyes trained at her black combat boots as her face grew flushed. Snickers were heard around the class as snippets of comments found their way to her red ears. “What is she doing in that notebook?” “Such a nerd.” “Loser!” She brought her head up and looked at the faces of her classmates. Dawn Berlitz, glaring at her and rolling her eyes. Misty Waterflower, desperately trying to copy Dawn and flashing Touko an evil smirk. May Haruka giving her a sympathetic smile. “Thank Arceus that someone cares about me…” she thought, flashing her a small smile in return. Her eyes flicked towards the desk in the corner, not ready to meet the eyes of Professor Elm. She was met with a pair of chocolate brown orbs, and a deep and serious face of worry and curiosity. Those eyes pierced her soul, made her feel complete, and oddly satisfied. She flashed a perplexed look at the boy as he turned away, his look replaced with a placid serenity.

        The professor raised his eyebrows at the exchange between the two, clearing his throat he sternly punished the girl. “Well. You do know that this means you’ll have to stay for detention today. My room, until 5:00 after your last class.” He said, staring down at the shy and timid girl. “Now then. Does anyone know the move power of Hydro Pump?” He asked, turning around to the class. May’s hand shot in the air as the professor called out her name. “It’s 120.” She proudly stated, seeming confident of her answer. The professor cocked his head as he gave her a sympathetic smile. “Close! Really close. However that’s just not correct.” He stated as he looked around the white-walled classroom again. “Anyone else?” he asked, as Dawn carefully raised a slender, manicured hand in the air, her bracelets sliding down her wrist. “Dawn?” the professor asked, turning to face the bluenette. “It’s 110. Better luck next time May!” she said in a sickeningly sweet voice. The professor disregarded her tone as he strode up to the board. “Correct! Good job Dawn.” He replied to the girl, giving her a slight nod. “Does else anyone know what type is weak to water types?”