On Kindness

Chapter 4

Wednesday morning. Day number three. Brick was painfully counting the minutes.

Wednesday first period. Blossom was still glaring at him. Talk about obsessed.

Wednesday fourth period. Buttercup had 'accidentally' thrown a textbook at him. This was plain harassment.

Wednesday afternoon. Brick stuck a picture of the Powerpuffs on his punching bag. It was in pieces in less than half an hour.

Thursday morning. Day number four. He was getting closer to the weekend.

Thursday second period. Today Buttercup had 'accidentally' thrown a beaker at him. Brick wondered what she was going to throw tomorrow.

Thursday lunch. He spotted Bubbles feeding pigeons in the courtyard. Now the stupid birds were gonna poop everywhere.

Thursday fifth period. Blossom and the teacher fervently discussed the deeper meanings behind Macbeth for the whole period. Boring.

Thursday after school. Brick almost threw up when he saw Buttercup making out with Mitch. He could understand that their personalities might attract, but still. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to date her. The guy was probably hiding a number of bruises.

Thursday after that. Brick headed to the second round of track tryouts. Today the coach would be deciding who would be on varsity. Brick didn't really need to attend, but he thought he would grace the other students with his presence.

Thursday evening. Brick painted the Powerpuffs' faces onto his punching bag. It was a decent rendition, in his humble opinion.

Friday morning. Day number five. So close to the weekend. So fucking close.

Friday second period. Buttercup threw a bottle of acid at him. Please. She going to have to get more original if she wanted to surprise him.

Friday third period. Bubbles sang a song in front of the class as extra credit for the French teacher. She had a good voice (Brick grudgingly admitted), but the song sounded really stupid, not that Brick could understand much of it anyway.

Friday afternoon. It was finally the weekend! Brick rushed home and headed toward his kitchen when he suddenly heard rummaging sounds. He flew as quietly as he could toward the kitchen, and in a smooth practiced manner, eyebeamed at the sounds, ran forward, and punched the fool who had enough guts to sneak into his house before the poor guy could even scream. But suddenly Brick realized something.

"BOOMER?" he yelled, stunned.

"Ouch man. That hurt," Boomer sat up, nursing his slightly bruised arm.

"What. The fuck. Are you doing. In my house?" Brick glared at him.

"Technically, it's not your house. Ow ow ow," Boomer whined after Brick had dragged him up by his collar. Boomer took a step back, dusting himself off. "Man, aren't you pissy today?"

Brick sighed. Sometimes, his brother was something else. "So what are you doing here?" he asked after having calmed down a bit.

"Well I got bored at school, so I skipped and I thought I'd come visit you. Since Butch's place is kinda far. Oh yeah, Him sends his best wishes. But when I got here, you weren't home yet, so I thought I'd raid your fridge. That crème brûlée , by the way, was amazing."

"Wait, you ate my fucking crème brûlée?" Brick screamed. It had been a housewarming gift from the old lady next door. Brick had never bothered thanking her for it, so he couldn't really just ask her for more. Besides he didn't want to ask– she might start talking to him about boring old lady stuff.