One Hundred Ways To Leave The Planet

Chapter 12: I Love You, You Numbskull!

I swear my writing is better than this most of the time. It's just that 100WLP is fairly old and I wrote this chapter a good two weeks before the 13tlu birthday chapter, which I did a fULL MONTH IN ADVANCE-

All that to say please don't stop reading because it's the writing is bad. Stop reading because I'm stupid.

Actually please don't stop reading-

~

"Two weeks!"

Octonaughty flopped onto the snowy grass, more anxious than he thought possible. His stomach hurt and he couldn't see straight.

When he arrived back at the hideout, nobody cared that he had been out all night. They were too busy trying to keep the lair from burning down and screaming at each other after Purpletwo's attempts to cook.

So, without anyone being suspicious of him, he grabbed his old scarf, which was nearly torn to shreds, and climbed out of his window when night fell, as always, and headed for the woods. But no spirited, determined cube was there waiting for him.

'That's fine,' he thought. 'She'll be out tomorrow.'

Twenty-Seven did have to miss nights sometimes, whether because of a club meeting, or one of her friends wanted to spend time with her, or she just needed proper rest that night. Octonaughty understood, though not really liking losing time with her. She always came back.

But now, two weeks had passed and Twenty-Seven hadn't been out once. Octonaughty was starting to get worried, something that didn't come naturally to him. He was never one to doubt himself, even when plans failed. Not that he really made evil plans anymore. That was mostly Purpletwo's thing.

He started messing with the paperback Twenty-Seven had given him without really thinking about it. Twenty-Seven had let him borrow quite a few books since they started hanging out together.

The first time she let him, he was surprised. Novels were never really his thing, he preferred comic books.

It had been only about a week since she'd awkwardly agreed to his offer of friendship, and they were sitting in nervous silence at the side of Twenty-Seven's house. She pulled out a book and started to read.

"Whatcha doin'?"

She gave him a look. "Reading."

"What about?"

"Why do you care?"

"I dunno. Just wanna know I guess."

She gave a sigh. "It's called The Phantom Tollbooth. I'm almost done and you can borrow it if you want."

"I'm good."

"Why? It's a good book."

"Reading's not really my strong suit."

She nodded thoughtfully. "So you're scared then."

Octonaughty sat up. "I'm not scared!"

"Awwh, the big, bad villain is scawed of a widdle book."

"Quit it! I'll take your dumb Ghost Tollbooth."

"Phantom."

"Whatever."

The memory faded out like the end of a movie and Octonaughty couldn't help smiling. He let his mind keep him busy, but the minutes felt like hours and the hours felt like days. He couldn't wait. He desperately wanted to see her.

So, he set off toward her house, picking up pebbles on the way.

***

'Who woulda thought I'd be back here,' Octonaughty thought, tossing another little stone to Twenty-Seven's window. He threw another one, and she opened the window just in time to be nailed between the eyes with the projectile.

"Oh- Sorry!" he called up while she laughed.

"Nice shot. Why are you here?"

"I needed to see you," he explained, making her glow. "Where've you been!?"

"I'll tell you, but you need to get out of sight. Do you wanna come up?"

"Depends. Do you have any deadly forks up there?"

"Octonaughty!"

He laughed, then walked up to a lattice under her window and started to climb.

"Octonaughty... My plants," Twenty-Seven complained. She reached her hand out to him, he took it and grunted with effort as he scrambled through the window.