CHAPTER 329
Every time I flew over Twinleaf, I couldn't help but notice how empty it really was. A few hundred inhabitants at most, one building that acted as pre, primary, middle, and high school, a single grocery store—local and not one of the big chains you saw everywhere else—and houses so spread out you'd think people hated each other. I pressed down on Princess' fur, almost a reflexive motion to soothe my nerves. Things had gone well with dad. We weren't back like old times, but all of the tension had gone away and relaxing around him was easy. The same couldn't be said with my mother, considering I hadn't seen her since leaving the League. We'd texted some, but that was different than talking face-to-face. I had no idea how things would go or how she would react to having a Gym Leader in her house for two hours.
At least Denzel's parents weren't here, and while this was morbid to say, my grandmother wouldn't be able to make snide comments every five minutes any longer now that she was gone. I wouldn't go as far as to say that it was good that she died, never that. That would have been the old me. But I wasn't going to lie to myself and say that I'd be grieving in any way, shape, or form like mom had. I hadn't even gone to the funeral.
Leaning in close to Princess' ear, I whispered, "remember which house is hers?" Mom hadn't yet inherited the house, but I was calling it hers anyway. The legal process to do so was really slow and would take months, according to the texts she complained in. Something about the people in Sandgem taking their sweet time getting here.
Princess heartily nodded, zipping past the world at increasing speeds. Part of me wanted to tell her to go as fast as possible, but I wasn't wearing my goggles, at the moment, so I wouldn't be able to enjoy the earth below just becoming one big blend of smeared colors. She circled around Twinleaf until she reached the southern tip of the town, which, according to Denzel, had once been where Lucas, Dawn and Barry used to live. Ours was just a little ways off, green-roofed with a modest stone chimney for winters and walls made of smooth wood paneling, both of which bore the marks of weathering from being an old structure.
According to Buddy, Twinleaf had been originally founded as some sort of summer retreat for rich people from Sandgem and Jubilife, built to get away from the high paced culture of life that dominated those two cities. You could see how it'd make sense. It got apparently hot down here during the summer because it was far inland enough not to be a coastal town. It was over thirty degrees Celsius today, which was basically heat wave territory. The area was dominated by a small lake that led to the ocean to the south, with a small wooden pier and a few tiny boats docked to it. The location had fallen out of favor and stopped growing after a while, but some of the descendants of these rich men and women had stuck behind, leaving the Twinleaf of the present.
While history was no passion of mine, it was nice to learn about my country. It was important to know the context of why things were the way they were, and it was just another hobby that could stop me from being co-dependent with anyone else.
Princess landed in front of our house with a dull, nearly silent thud, and my legs swept above her as I unstrapped myself and jumped off. For a while, I stood there all nervous, imagining that maybe I wouldn't be able to touch my mom, and she'd look at me like I was some sort of failed product. I pictured Maylene calling me stupid with that smug, frustrating yet delightful smile of hers, and I managed to gather the courage to walk up to the front door. There was no doorbell, so my knuckles rasped against the wooden door.
There was a muffled bark behind the door warning that I was here, and a familiar voice saying she was on her way. Mom's steps grew closer behind the door until she was right there and opened it, and right when she looked at me, blue eyes full of love and care, I was sure I'd been worrying for nothing. I was going to stay here the whole week-end, so being able to withstand being with her would be a blessing—
Mom snatched me in her arms, making me seize up in fear of tainting her, but just like dad, there was no darkness seeping into her. With a relieved sigh, I wrapped my arms around her as Herdier greeted me by licking my leg. I couldn't figure out why there was nothing. Part of me wanted to think it was because they were my parents, the people who had made me using half of themselves and allowed me to flourish. Maybe I just knew part of them would love me no matter what happened, but Maylene had said—no, she hadn't said that, but she'd basically implied it. Did I just not believe her, deep down? Or did I just think I'd taint her but not my parents? Or maybe the treatment with Maylene was just working that well, but considering dad had touched me before we'd begun, that didn't make much sense.
No matter what the answer was, one thing was for sure: my brain was weird.
"How are you, sweetie?" She grabbed me by the shoulders to get a good look at me. "Legendaries, I missed you."
"Missed you too." Was I tearing up? Maybe a little. "I've been getting better slowly; I found a system that really worked for me, so…"
"That's great! I'm glad the classes and therapy are going so well." Mom beamed and dragged me inside. "Come in, come in, I baked a key lime pie for you!"
While Princess squeezed past the doorway, her fur easily bending to let her through, I crouched and pet Herdier behind the ear. "How are you, little man?" I smiled at him, and he jumped on my knees to lick my face, saying he was so happy to see me again. "I'm happy too, okay? Come on, let's hang out."
For a while, I spent some time chatting with Mom and Herdier about piano lessons, telling her about Jess and Marley. The latter had acted like nothing had happened last class, and not wanting to press or worry her, I'd just let it go and done the same, something she seemed very appreciative of.
"Look at you, making friends," mom praised as I shoved more pie in my mouth. In a way, it was kind of sad that she had to praise me for that. "I'm glad you're adjusting well. Just having a normal life is important."
I lifted the tiny fork at her. "And I understand that now. Dad and you were right." It had only taken like, a week of convincing me. Grace Pastel, as it turned out, could be very stubborn. "You know, speaking of friends, is it okay if I have one over tonight?"
Okay, maybe asking her now wasn't the greatest of ideas. If she said no, I'd be kind of screwed and possibly mess up our meetup with only just a few hours notice.
"One of the new ones? Sure, if they know how to get here. What time?"
"Eight in the evening, and she's staying for two hours—"
Mom's eyes widened, and she chewed a little too hard on her fork. "What? I need to make dinner for her! Why do you only tell me these things now—"
"No! No, it's fine!" I quickly cut in. "She'll have eaten already; I asked her a few days ago." One day, I was gonna trap Maylene and get her to eat something I made, even if I had to go through fifty steps to make it good enough for her diet. "And no, it's not Jess or Marley…" my foot idly tapped the ground. "It's Maylene. You know, the Gym Leader?"
"What?"
"What?" I said back.
"We're going to have a Gym Leader." She paused, fork dropping onto her plate. "In here?"
"Yes?"
"You're friends with a Gym Leader?" my mother asked me as if I was delusional.
"Yes!" I yelled. "I'm friends with Candice too, okay? Can you stop being weird about it?"
"Of course, she can show up." Her agreement came with a glance around the house to probably figure out how to make everything perfect and clean for Maylene's arrival. "I'm glad you have people with good heads on their shoulders to guide you, Grace."
"Yeah." When one thought of Candice, they couldn't really say that, but it was true for Maylene, at least. "Thanks. I know it's a lot."
She stood up, looked around and said, "I'm gonna be… vacuuming around here. And cleaning up. And redecorating a little. And—yeah, I'll be busy most of the day. Is that okay with you? If you need me, we can do something. Meet some of the neighbors."
"I'll be fine." I waved a dismissive hand. The answer kind of surprised me, honestly. I'd be alone with just my Pokemon, and was… pretty sure I'd be okay? "I'll probably just hang around the house or with my team."
"Good. You let me know if that changes." She picked up my empty plate and got started on doing the dishes. I could see a panhandle and a big pot peeking above the sink. It was utterly full. Usually, mom wouldn't let it get to that point. She was still hurting because of grandma's death, but just hiding it so well it was as if nothing had happened. "Oh! And I volunteered to help at the school tomorrow. Want to come with, since you're staying for the weekend?"
"Sure." I slowly stood up from my chair. "Volunteer as like, a teacher?"
"It's a special event for Renewal Day. All of the kids and some of their parents are going to go to class for a party, and I volunteered as a cook."
Right. Renewal Day was June 1st and usually meant the first day of the Conference, where there would be massive festivities on the Lily of the Valley Island and end with the declaration of the start of the tournament. Since it was delayed, people were taking to their own way of celebrating all over the country; I just hadn't thought a small, slow town like Twinleaf would do it as well.
"Sure. I'll help out. Honey can help, too."
"Great!" she beamed. Had she expected me to say no? "It's going to be a lot of fun."
I stuck around a little bit to help Mom at least do the dishes, but she refused any other help and sent me on my way. First, I went back out, released my entire team, and woke up Mimi from their slumber. The good thing about Twinleaf was that Sweetheart could be out no questions asked so long as she didn't terrify the populace. I had to warn her about not wandering off too far, but she seemed pleased by the location and the fact that there was a lake in view.
I stuck around for a few hours, which were mostly focused on helping Cass improve their Teleporting capabilities with moral support and practicing with Princess' cutting. Eventually, thoughts of tonight started to get way too overwhelming for me to focus on anything else, so I left my team out and climbed up the stairs to the guest bedroom. It was a tiny thing, with a small one-person bed and a single nightstand beside it whose legs were uneven. It held a dim-looking lamp that was way too small to light up even this tiny room.
"Oh."
There was also a tiny closet. Good for me, I guess. There were even a bunch of free hangers for my clothes. Herdier followed me inside around a minute later, and I smirked as I reached down to scratch his chin. He went to lie down beside the bed. Mom said most of what he did these days was sleep, so he was kind of like Sunshine.
Grandma's room was available and a lot bigger, but obviously, I wasn't going to use a dead woman's room. Plus, this place being more cramped was a good thing. Maylene liked small spaces; she would feel a lot more comfortable and at home here. After dropping my backpack on the ground, I sat on the bed, hands feeling at the tough mattress before I had to chase away thoughts of Maylene staying overnight. It wasn't going to happen, even if I asked. Moreover, the bed was too small, stuck against the wall in the corner of the room.
I checked again, just to be sure—a harmless thought exercise.
Yeah. Too small to sleep without going into touch debt.
After downing some water from my gourd, I placed all of my clothes for the week-end in the closet and grabbed my phone. Service around here was pretty bad, but it was enough to send messages and place calls. A small laugh—nearly a breath—escaped through my nose when I saw that mom still hadn't put a password on her WiFi. I quickly scrolled through the messages I'd missed on the way here. A selfie from Jess with her tongue hanging out with a piano in the background. I answered with a simple 'Are you taunting me?' and she asked for a piano duel after our next class. Well, sure, that sounded fun; she was on. Emilia had sent a video of a new routine she was working on and had asked Denzel if it was good for content in our group chat.
Denzel was actually streaming right now—or his Lopunny was. She was training in one of the public arenas at the League with the rest of his team since they were still empty. Even Froslass was back, having traveled from Mount Coronet to the League on her own and gotten nearly killed again as soon as she crossed the island's perimeter.
Anyway, he was commentating from his hospital through a call and was mostly on entertainment duty. I stayed around and watched for a few minutes, dropping a few comments until people noticed I was in there and started pinging my username and being annoying. Maybe I shouldn't have made it literally my name, but it was what Poketch wanted for my official account on every site.
This was really just delaying the inevitable, though. There was something in particular I'd wanted to ask Maylene to do with our hangouts. I clicked on her name and looked at our last message—a sticker of Crasher Wake doing a thumbs up a few days ago. She really liked his stickers; she was close to Wake and his husband, and he'd been the one to convince her to start therapy after…
Ugh. Before the bad thoughts could take over, I kept thinking forward.
Since we couldn't text much, sometimes I'd scroll back to our past messages and read them again when things got tough. I'd hold on to texts of her saying nice things about me whenever my thoughts went to a dark place and started telling me I was worthless. These days, there were fewer of those. I considered what would be a proper beginning until I realized I didn't need an excuse.
All of it would follow protocol.
You - Hey.
Maylene - hii
Hm. Only two 'i's today; she must have been busy at work, so I'd try to keep things short. Wait, I was supposed to keep things short anyway.
You - I have a question if that's okay.
Maylene - depends on the reason. R u relapsing or does this hav to do with later
You - It's technically allowed in the rules. It has to do with our next session after this one at your Gym.
Maylene - alright
Taking a deep breath, I began typing the message. My fingers were slower than usual; there was some kind of self-doubt creeping further and further into my head the longer I looked at what I'd written. My body felt heavy, sinking into my bed's mattress. This must have been because I hadn't had enough sessions with her.
You - So we're going to the gym to work out, right? I know we won't practice that day but I was wondering what you were going to be wearing?
Maylene - oh i havent thought about it yet
Maylene - whjy
Why? What did she mean, why? It was important to know all of the information in advance; this was a very serious process. We needed as few variables as possible, or something might happen to make me relapse—
Maylene - I mean I can just throw on whatever
You - What about what you were wearing last time?
Maylene - at ur dads apartment?
Was she going to make me spell it out?! This was so frustrating… but a fun kind of frustrating. I rolled over on my stomach, legs kicking in the air as I took a deep breath.
You - The clothes you were wearing at the gym looked nice.
You - Easy to move in and stuff. I'm just saying it might be efficient for you to wear them again for the best experience possible. And you wearing the same thing would be nice in a symbolism kind of way. It would rhyme. I like it when that happens. It's how I see the world. You can ask anyone who knows me, and they'll tell you the same thing.
I dropped my phone on my bed, eagerly waiting for her answer. I peeked at the screen a few seconds after it vibrated again.
Maylene - oooooh
Maylene - dw I know. I'll wear it.
My throat released a breath I'd apparently been holding, and I couldn't help but feel mildly lightheaded. It was going to be a good day to have eyes—which would be a bonus to all of this. The primary concern was exactly what I'd said to Maylene. I rolled over again, this time on my side, and continued texting her.
You - What about today? It's pretty hot down south; you might want to not wear that much fabric. I know you're resistant to heatstroke and things like that, but maybe you should be careful.
Maylene - thx for the warning ill wear something light like my tank top the other day
For a long while, the chat bubble with three dots flashed on my screen, and I eagerly awaited what she'd say. Eventually, Maylene must have deleted what she'd been typing because the bubble disappeared and reappeared after a few seconds.
Maylene - see u tonight! no more texting, ok?
You - Okay!
My hands clutched my phone against my heart. Wow, that had been tough. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if she'd called me creepy for it. That was a constant fear of mine with her, to be honest, even if she was being nice about it and catching the look on my face nearly every time I was about to launch into a self-deprecating spiral. Maylene was just so normal compared to me that I was terrified of scaring her off because of something I'd say or do, even if it was mildly irrational, and she'd already accepted the sum of things that made me—both the ugly and the good. Because there was good in me. That was what I had to believe if I wanted to make it, and she was teaching me that every time we interacted.
Oh. And 'official' therapy too, I guess; I've only had two sessions so far, though. Admittedly, it was just going… okay? I found it a lot less reliable than what I was doing with Maylene, but again, I couldn't rely just on her to get better. I imagined things would ramp up eventually on that front.
Anyway, now that the situation was dealt with, all that remained was to pick what I was going to wear. I glanced out the window at my Pokemon, making sure Sweetheart was still close to the house and not scaring the town's inhabitants by wandering off wherever she pleased. So long as she stuck close and didn't scream, we'd be fine. Right now, Buddy was spraying her with water, and I wasn't certain if it was due to the heat or just because she enjoyed being wet. Leaning against the open windowsill to get a better view, I saw Princess teaching Cass how to… make sharp objects with Ancient Power? No, were they playing at sword fighting? She was obviously way more into it than they were. I chuckled when the ground type kept screaming that she was way too into it and that it was terrifying. She had them on the ropes, and them floating away wouldn't hurt, considering she was considerably faster.
Sunshine, as usual, had found a tree a few hundred feet away to snore under. Sleeping helped him think a lot better, so hopefully he'd give some thought to that technique I'd brought up a few days ago. By the way it looked like he was smiling—it was difficult to tell from here—he was probably just dreaming about ruling vast swathes of territory and holding onto Mount Wela's seat of power by snatching a story away from the hands of its domain holder.
Honey and Angel weren't there; they must have brought Mimi exploring somewhere. Maybe by the river with all those Bidoof we'd helped with relocating their dam the last time I'd been here? Oh, Legendaries, Mimi would go crazy seeing a Bidoof-made dam. Hopefully, that was it!
Since they were all behaving, I tiptoed around Herdier, who was lying down with one eye open and one ear up, and grabbed the three options I had brought for tonight. This wasn't going to be our last practice session, but it was going to be the last where it was just our thing, so it mattered. That meant I needed to be… well, accessible if Maylene wanted to try somewhere new. I was pretty sure she was going to.
So;
A pair of light blue denim shorts with a ripped aesthetic near the hemline. This, I could pretty much pair with any top, but I'd been planning to use one of the two camisoles I owned. The problem was that these were basically tank tops, and there were odds Maylene would show up in shorts, too. Part of me thought matching would be cute, but it'd also be weird. So weird my mother might get ideas. I could do t-shirts as well, but… meh. They didn't feel special, and I had a million of them. The other issue with these shorts is that they were a little tight around the thighs, which docked points for accessibility. It'd probably look nice on me for sure—not that it mattered—but the goal here was to be as practical as possible.
A sundress. Sundresses were nice; they felt like water on your skin, so light it was as if you were flowing in the wind. This one was a soft shade of blue reminiscent of a clear, cloudless day. It was a mild low cut and long enough to nearly reach my ankles. Now, it wasn't as if she wouldn't be able to just lift it up like she'd done to my shirt—if she went there, of course; the option was hers. The problem was that if she wanted to go for my waist or my stomach again, that might be too much. There was no way she'd get her hands all the way up there without it breaching a serious line. She might as well be undressing me at that point—
I swallowed wrong, sending me into a mild coughing fit that had me nearly doubled over. I hadn't imagined it. Even if my head spun and my next full breath trembled. It'd be wrong in every single way.
Not happening. Not happening. And I didn't want it to happen.
The skirt was next, a little above the knees but wide and flowy enough to have zero obstructions. It was a mix of white and pastel pink, and had a flowery pattern all over, which was really good summer vibes. There was something about pastel or pale colors on me that I enjoyed. Again, I could pair it with any top, and I really liked flower patterns on clothes, but I was finding my lack of good tops kind of limiting, and I really didn't have good shoes, either. Did I need to buy more clothes? That thought sat with me for a moment as I looked down at the skirt. The good thing about pairing it with a top was that it'd make everything easy to reach under, unlike the dress. It really was about the pros and the cons, at the end of the day.
Both of them had desirable features and faults. The dress was genuinely the one I thought looked the nicest, and I wouldn't need to worry about a top. It was, however, limiting her options to my legs, my thighs, my neck, or my face. Sure, there were my arms, hands, and wrists, but tonight was special; she wouldn't limit herself just to those. And the point of the process was to ramp up until I got used to being touched everywhere. Repeats just weren't optimal as of now; those needed to come after my entire body was used to her touch.
One had to consider every angle before these things.
The skirt left the most body parts open, so it was a practice-focused choice and not a hanging-out focused choice. Maybe Maylene would want to spread out the touching in some kind of final test for me to see what I'd learned these past sessions. Sure, it wouldn't be final, final—we'd still practice, but just a lot less often—but again, this one was special. But what top was I gonna wear? The camisole?
I must have stood there for eight minutes, glancing between the skirt and the dress, considering every possibility before…
Hm.
"I think I'm gonna go with the dress," I declared with my hands on my hips. "What do you think, Herdier?"
He whined out a sigh, got up, and crawled under the bed as if I was annoying him.
"Fine, don't be any help," I grumbled. "Gotta trust my gut on this one." Better focus on the areas we hadn't studied yet; it would be a tougher test.
My phone said there were only four hours left, so it was about time I got ready and made sure everything was in order. There was nothing in the room to clean up since I'd just moved in, so that was a plus. I must have spent over an hour and a half in the bathroom showering, washing my hair, blow drying it with the most scuffed hair dryer, shaving; it was honestly a lot of work, especially when it took like ten minutes for the water to change from cold to lukewarm. Maybe I should have just called Buddy over for help. I had a few piano guides going in the background on my phone while in there, but it kept buffering even worse than Denzel's stream somehow. Mom had probably been using the internet.
Back in the guest room, I waited as the hours ticked by and the sun slowly set. It always took longer than expected during summer. When there were twenty minutes left or so, I considered putting on the same lip gloss I'd had during the ceremony and funeral, but decided against it. It was too much and probably would make my mom look at me weird. With so little time remaining, it felt difficult to focus on anything else, even if I tried to keep myself busy. Was that odd? Did that mean I was slipping into bad, old habits again and growing too dependent on someone else? That was what percolated through my mind as I ate some chicken soup my mother made and eagerly stared out the window.
Of course, I brushed my teeth after. Bad breath would suck.
Once the clock struck 7:55 pm, I made my way downstairs, and my mom took a long look at me. "You look nice," she nonchalantly said.
"Do I?!" I exclaimed, then cleared my throat. "I mean, do I?" The words were a little subdued this time.
She frowned for a moment. "Yep. We should go shopping for clothes together in Sandgem sometime this summer; I've always wanted a little mother-daughter bonding time."
"That'd be nice!" I smiled and leaned against the counter. "I was thinking that I needed more clothes earlier."
"Let's make it happen!" she said with a clap of her hands. "Do you like what I did with the place?"
Looking around, I honestly couldn't tell anything was much different. The house looked cleaner and free of any dust, and… maybe the table had been moved a little? And was the television a little closer to the couch?
"...yes?" I tried.
Mom sighed and would have said something else had one of my Pokemon called me to say Maylene was here. I lifted my hands to my head, fingers spreading wide as I combed through my hair before walking out the door and yelling at my mom to stay inside even if she thought it wouldn't be polite.
As it turned out, I had been correct—Maylene was wearing shorts, though they weren't the baggy ones she had worn last time. These were a little tighter, a little shorter, accentuating the toned muscles in her legs. Her tank top was different, too—dark, maybe a deep blue, and I could catch glimpses of her sports bra straps peeking out from underneath. My friend waved with a bright smile, and as her arm lifted, her tank top rode up slightly, revealing a glimpse of her stomach.
I jogged over to her while my team greeted her. "Hi!" I said, barely containing my smile. "Not too difficult finding the place?"
Maylene scratched the back of her head. "Um. We might have Teleported to another house and spooked some neighbors…" she glanced down at the v-cut in my dress for a moment—but only for a moment. "You were our second try, though."
"Eh, that's not too bad. The last time I came here, Sweetheart scared the living hell out of these people 'cause she'd just evolved, and she would scream all the time." I glanced down at her hands. "Oh." Her nails had been done recently, polished in a soft, glossy color. "That looks really good! I didn't know you were into nails!"
Maylene brought both of her hands closer to my face, and I felt my cheeks warm. "I think it's fun," she said. "Nia took me once, like two years ago, and I've been into it ever since. Usually, I can't do it because I use my hands so much, but I figured that maybe for tonight, it'd look good."
I nodded, wishing I could grab her hand to see it up close. "Yeah. It looks really good."
"Um. You look good, also."
"Oh." I couldn't help but glance to the side, and somehow, my gaze ended up holding at the sliver of tummy again. "Th—thanks."
"Yeah, I really like the dress." Maylene pulled at the fabric next to my leg—just the fabric—nearly giving me a heart attack. "It's really soft. I'm not that good at fashion, but it's great. That's more Nia's speed."
For a few moments, there was silence. Not wishing to let it become awkward, I beckoned her. "Come on in; let me introduce you to my mom."
"I'm a little nervous about that…"
"Psht, what? She's great." I waved a dismissive hand before turning to my team. "You guys are gonna be good out there? If you're hungry again, get Buddy to come in, and I'll bring you something, okay?" Mom had stocked up on a lot of food for my arrival, and at least she'd let me pay for it, even if she was super guilty. One had to be wealthy to feed my team, and she didn't really have a job. We climbed up the porch, and I let Maylene in before me. "Mom, this is Maylene Suzuki." I closed the door behind us.
She walked up to Maylene, looking slightly on edge. "It's nice to meet you, Leader Maylene," she said. "My name is Samantha—Sam for short. I'm so sorry we didn't make anything for you; Grace insisted you wouldn't be eating. Not even a snack."
Maylene blinked at her for a moment, and shook her head. "Oh, no, no, it's completely fine! I—she was right, I'm not gonna be eating anything."
"Okay, well, if you change your mind, I'm always here," mom said with a wink. Embarrassing. So embarrassing I wanted to drag Maylene up to my room and away from her.
In fact—
"So we'll be upstairs?" I probed. Mom's eyebrows rose a tiny bit as if she'd thought we'd stay downstairs for at least a while. "I mean, we only have two hours." That seemed to confuse her even more. "We'll just be upstairs," I confirmed firmly.
While we were climbing the old, creaking stairs, Maylene whispered, "are you sure that was okay? I don't want to be impolite or anything…"
"Don't worry about it, she'll understand." A pause. "Probably."
Maylene let out a small 'woah' when she entered the guest room, and I couldn't help but feel happy at her noting how it was such a good room to have. "Cozy," she added. "Kind of my style." She plopped herself down on the bed, feeling at it before her eyes widened. "Wait! Stay right there!"
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I froze. "What?" I asked with a tilt of my head. The Gym Leader pulled out her phone; before I could react, she whipped it up, and I heard a snap. "A picture? I—I wasn't ready!"
"That's what makes a good picture, Grace." She smiled smugly before looking at what she got. With an excited gasp, she turned the phone. "Look! It's so good!"
It looked… was that how I looked? I was radiating happiness in that frame. "It does look good…" I admitted.
"See? I told you—" I tried snatching it out of her hands with a laugh, but of course, she was too quick to move her hand up. "Wha—stop it, you dork!" We 'fought' over it for a while, though using that word was doing me a favor. She was so good at dodging I couldn't even graze her. "Fine, I'm making it my background now!"
My legs stopped in their tracks just as I'd been about to give up and crawl on the bed to get a better chance. "You are?"
Maylene hummed. "It's supposed to be a punishment, but you look way too happy about it. I feel like it anyway." She fiddled with her phone for a few moments. "There, the job's done."
It was true. And it was both for the lock and home screen. "You're lucky I was mindful of whether I could touch you or not, or I would have had a better chance," I grumbled with a pout.
"No. No, you really wouldn't have," Maylene giggled until her laugh faded. "But, um, if you really don't want me to, I'll—"
"It's fine. I like it." My hand twirled with a strand of hair. "What was it before?"
"Oh, just the Veilstone skyline. Basic stuff," Maylene said. "Oh, that reminds me, I wanted to show you a really funny meme!" She patted the side of the bed. "C'mere." I silently slid close to her, but made sure to keep enough distance for our shoulders not to touch. My nose tingled with some kind of really good smell. Was that soap or shampoo? Or both? I mean, Maylene smelled really good in general, anyway. "Okay, okay," she mumbled. "Hold on, I had this bookmarked."
She scrolled through Chatter for a few seconds. "I didn't know you used socials," I said.
"Oh, I only do on my alts—there it is!" She enlarged an image—a collage of what each Gym Leader would do if they came across a crying child alone on the street with captions under their pictures.
I snorted. "Pfft. That's so stupid." The only ones I knew were pretty correct were Crasher Wake and Candice trying to make the child laugh. Gardenia giving detailed instructions to the parents was really funny, though.
"Yeah. Like you," she teased.
My stomach fluttered. "Um. Anyway, there's no way you'd be in 'is the reason the child is crying' with Roark! You'd be in something nicer."
"Eh, I mean probably, but it's funny anyway." That was true enough. Maybe harmless memes were fine. "I try not to let that stuff get to me anymore."
"So what's the alt for?"
"Candice recommended it to me to blow off some steam. She has like eight, and that's just on Chatter. Wait, seven, since she got one of hers banned recently." Banned? How in the world had she even managed that? "Sometimes she'll find someone who really pisses her off and hone in on them. Like recently, there was this post that blew up about how she was messing up the situation in Snowpoint, but the poster was like, completely wrong about everything. It got nine thousand likes or so, but Candice got into a really long reply chain with the guy where it was literally him arguing with her seven alts and thinking he was talking to different people."
"Arceus… I mean, it's hilarious, but I don't think I'd have the energy for that. It sounds like so much work." Especially when there was a block button.
"I know, right? It's why I only have one. I don't even use it much to reply to people; it's just an account where I can follow and like stuff without people reading into every little thing." She inhaled sharply. "Actually! Maybe I should follow you. It'd be weird if I did it on my official account."
"I mean, I don't use Chatter much."
"What's your account?" she asked.
"GracePastelofficial," I said. She looked it up and was met with corporate post after corporate post, most of which had been tweeted by Melody or Poketch. The most recent, I had made, however. It was a farewell Chat about Craig and what he meant to me I'd made a few hours prior to his ceremony.
"Oh, you were kind of right. This looks like Cynthia's account; it's just official stuff."
I kicked my feet. "Told ya. I mean, what would I even post? I have a bunch of pictures of my team and stuff, but it's so annoying. Everything I do and say has to be approved, and it's nearly always reworded. Not that I'm the biggest fan of social media in the first place. Like ninety percent of these posts aren't even mine." It was just so restrained. Like I was constantly being held on a leash because they were scared of what I could say.
Though I guess when a Chat could potentially lose them millions, that was fine.
"Should I follow you? I wanna see the fun stuff you like," I suggested, fingers digging into the mattress.
"I—I mean, that would be really cool," Maylene stuttered. "I'd have to really curate them, then. I don't want you to think I look at unfunny stuff."
I grabbed my phone, and Maylene couldn't help but laugh at the fact that I'd forgotten my Chatter password and needed three attempts to log in.
"I just don't remember where the caps go, okay?!" I protested.
"Oh, suuuure," she said, all pompous.
"They forced me to have a really tough password! I have to change it every month!"
"Uhuh. I bet you'd have the same password for everything if you could." The mischievous undertone dripped from her words like honey. I… I did use Princess' birthday for everything. "See?" Maylene added.
"How did you even—how did you know?"
"You're easy to read when you're flustered," she said.
Ugh. Sometimes, she'd say stuff like this that I'd turn over in my head when going to sleep with a dumb grin. I mean, I knew it was true. Zachary, the teen I'd battled all the way back in Veilstone, had told me I was easy to read after my loss (and it was something I'd greatly improved on), but it was different when she made fun of me for it. And if it wasn't enough, Maylene balked when she saw that I only followed Poketch and my friends' accounts.
"Grace, are you crazy? If you follow me when you follow so few people, the community's gonna talk."
"But they don't know it's you?" I asked, tilting my head. "I'm sure if I ask Poketch, they'll let me. Hell, I didn't even ask to follow my friends; I'm sure it'll be fine."
"Oh my God." Maylene took a deep breath. "You're so bad at this that it's kind of cu—endearing." She audibly gulped and looked at me for so long—was it hot in here? The house didn't have air conditioning. "Um. Yeah. Uh, I know that's the case, but people will speculate and talk about who this is."
"Ah." I wanted to slap my forehead. "Yeah, that makes sense. What if we do it anyway?"
"Wh—what?"
"Doesn't it sound kind of fun? People going wild over basically nothing? Letting them guess for a while?" I leaned toward her, and our eyes met. My hand and fingers were so close they were less than an inch from touching hers on the bed. "Come on. Please? For me?"
Her breath hitched in her throat, and her body tensed—it looked very good when it did that. Like, objectively, from a non-biased standpoint, Maylene was an attractive girl. "If you're sure it doesn't get you in trouble," she relented.
"Yes!" I tapped the follow button before she could change her mind. "No takebacks!" I was sure Melody was going to take this well. She'd be mildly angry at best, but it'd be fine. I turned toward Maylene again before realizing we were still so close; her breath tickled my face. It was—so warm, with a hint of citrus. "S—sorry." I scooted myself away, deciding that maybe looking at her face so close wouldn't be the best idea.
"It's alright, thanks for the laughs. I needed that," Maylene said, a trace of worry threading through her tone. She rarely let it show unless things were truly serious, and seeing that she was still holding up, I felt a bit of tension ease from my shoulders. Instead, her voice would become meek and small like it currently had.
"Something wrong?" That had been a rather quick switch.
"Blergh. Just work stuff." Maylene smiled at me as if to tell me not to worry. "No need to bother you with it; I'll deal."
"I can listen?" I tried. "I mean, I don't think I'd be great for advice—I don't even know what I'm doing most of the time." The urge to grab her hand and tell her I wanted to be here for her was so strong my fingers twitched as if they had a mind of their own.
"Are you sure?" she asked. "I know you're dealing with a lot, and I guess you could call it low-stakes stuff…"
I turned toward her as much as I could, stopping right before our knees would touch. "Maylene, you've been—you've been here for me so much since the ceremony, and I know I said I'd use you, but I don't want to just take. I want to give, too. So this… partnership is more equal, eventually. Because I don't want to be unhealthy forever. That's the goal, right?"
Maylene nodded. "Right."
"Actually, you know what?" I shifted slightly away from her and pushed her onto my lap, touching both her head and opposite arm in the process. I felt her body tense at the contact, a contraction that sent something akin to a jolt in my fingers. "There. That's like two seconds taken off our practice time later," I said as best I could, trying to act like the contact hadn't bothered me. "Your head's only touching my dress, not my skin, so it's okay."
I'd definitely made the right choice. There would have been a risk of further bodily contact if I'd gone with the shorts.
For a few seconds, she didn't say anything; I feared I'd fucked it all up, and unabashed horror rippled through me like a wave, seizing my throat and making it hard to breathe.
"S—sorry!" Maylene shot up, and we nearly bumped foreheads. "It's not you—your thighs are just really soft. I wasn't—wasn't ready." Was that good? That was good, right? "Can I do it again? I just need to brace myself."
"Oh." I glanced at the door; it was shut, and the stairs were so old we'd be able to hear if mom came up. That was close; I'd nearly forgotten to actually check. "Yeah, go ahead."
The Gym Leader muttered, "Okay," under her breath, exhaling and inhaling for a few cycles until she dropped her head on my lap again. Her breathing went from frantic to slow and steady, and her eyes stopped fluttering, relaxing until they were half-closed. The hem of her shirt slipped above her stomach, and there was an urge within me to just run a hand through her hair. Instead, I leaned back, pushing my hands against the bed, and gripped at the fabric.
"Can I start?" Maylene asked. "Like I said, it's not really a big deal. Like, it's not my dad or anything." She was looking directly at me, pink gaze locked and held onto mine, drawing me in like an unbreakable pull.
"Yeah." My response was meek. This felt like a less intense practice session.
"Okay, so there's this issue where the Gym's really been struggling with money, but it was fine until we reopened," Maylene sighed. "Now we have to spend more on our Pokemon because they're the ones doing the fighting, and it means I couldn't pay the cleaning staff on time today because the League wouldn't give any more. The cash flow's too tight." Her lips pressed together in disappointment directed at herself. "And I'm the one who had to make the decision on whose pay would be delayed. I'm the one who had to make that final call, because like, if the trainers or engineers are unhappy, or if we don't spend enough on taking care of our Pokemon, then there's no Gym, and I can't close again because it would fuck everything over—weeks of prep—and it was just… a lot. It was my first time having to deal with that."
I… didn't know what to say. All of this time, she'd helped me deal with my problems, and I hadn't even considered she might be hurting because of things outside of my control for one second. And that was fine. It took a moment to readjust the thought of it in my head because—she was perfect, and yet she wasn't. Maybe that was okay. Maybe she was my Hero, but also just a person.
"I'm sorry," was all I could muster. I didn't know how to run a gym; I didn't know about handling employees; I didn't know the first thing about cash flow. Yet I wanted to be here for her anyway. "How long is it gonna take to pay them?"
"Probably in two weeks," she said. "I'll hand them a bonus whenever I can and additional paid sick days, but it still sucks, because like, I assume a lot of them need money now." Maylene rubbed her tired eyes. "Y'know, sometimes it's like, I wonder if I'm a bad boss, still."
"I mean, you improved a lot after…" after the event. And there were so many better ways to go about that, but this remained unsaid. An apology tried to force itself out of my mouth, but I couldn't. Because then she'd stop venting and focus on me for catastrophizing. This was about her. "I mean, I'm not there a lot, but there's no doubt in my mind that you're doing a better job."
"Thanks." She smiled and lifted her hand, but it lingered close to my face instead of touching me. She dropped it soon after, and we ignored it just like we always ignored everything else. "It's just that I still get these thoughts whenever things go wrong, or a trainer messes up a Pokemon's training regimen, or something. That things would just go so much better if I could do all of it, and a little voice inside my head calls them useless." Her face scrunched up in disgust at herself. "Like my father's will is still trying to control me and make me do his bidding even if I got rid of him."
"But you don't act upon those, right?" I tried reassuring her. "People get bad thoughts all the time. The difference, I learned, is when you actually do them. That's when it becomes an issue." Maylene didn't look that sure of what I'd said. "It's what I learned and some of what made me try to grow as a person. There's a lot of growth left, though."
She breathed a laugh. "I guess we both do. Whatever my intentions, I screwed up by opening too early. I knew it'd be tight, but I miscalculated. I wanted to give the country hope by returning to normal."
"I understand. Just… try your best to do better next time?" I tried. "Sorry, was that too—"
"No, that was good!" Maylene exclaimed before her smile turned impish. "Could have been better, though. Like: 'Next time, don't underestimate how many hours Pokemon will have to be trained to shake off the rust, you idiot!'" She tapped her chin. "Or something like that. I'd rate yours a six."
I scoffed. "Six out of ten? Come on."
"Six out of a hundred."
I shook my legs, nearly throwing her head off me. Of course, she was Maylene, so while she was caught off-guard, she recovered pretty easily. One day, I'd get her. The Gym Leader flicked me on the nose—there was something so charming about how soft it was despite how strong Maylene could get—and she stood up, her head leaving the comfort of my lap.
"We're even, now—don't make that face at me; you touched me first. What, are you gonna take point one second away from practice?" she challenged.
"Yeah, I am." I poked her side, finger digging into the soft tank top. The yelp that followed was so sweet. "What're you gonna do about it?" Another poke. Then another, though now that she'd been expecting it, they were less effective at drawing out any noise.
One thing I had learned about this girl since coming back from Coronet was that she was very combative. Maylene's eyes widened in surprise as she let out a playful laugh, her earlier challenge melting into a grin. "Oh, you're asking for it now," she smugly spoke with terrible intentions dancing in her eyes.
Before I could react, she suddenly lunged toward me, her hands reaching for my sides. I barely had time to brace myself before her fingers started to tickle my waist, their quick, deft movements sending waves of laughter through me she couldn't help but draw out. I squirmed, trying to escape her grasp, but it only made her laugh more, her fingers finding every vulnerable spot. It was impossible to mistake the spark when our skin touched while I struggled, but… it was accidental. Thrashing around was a very human reaction to being tickled. I couldn't take time off for that. "S—Stop! Maymay, stop! I give up, okay!" I gasped between fits of laughter, though my protest was more playful than serious.
I'd expected her to keep going for a while, but she slowly came to a pause. I could still feel her fingers on my waist through my dress, even if they were gone. Twice, she'd been on top of me like this. The first time at her gym, what I'd felt had begun with worry for her well-being, which had led to horror as realization dawned on me, and I could no longer deny what had been in front of my eyes for weeks. Tonight, well—
Well, it wasn't bad. Now that we'd put up limits to this therapy. I hadn't had the time to appreciate this before. Her eyes were still sparkling with the remnants of our laughter; her defined shoulders were tense above me; her stomach poked out of her shirt from our tussle; loose strands of her short hair hung above me. If she'd been closer, I would have been able to feel her sweet breath on my face again.
"Sorry. I was worried your mom would hear; the walls are pretty thin." She glanced toward the door, still unmoving.
I just about panicked—I'd completely forgotten my mother was even downstairs! "What's she doing? Can you hear her?"
Maylene closed her eyes and focused for a few seconds. "Hm. Doesn't look like anything's changed. I think she's watching TV? Might be radio… yeah, I think it's radio."
The tendons in my muscles loosened, and my head hit the edge of the pillow behind me. I noticed that Maylene hadn't gotten off yet. She was looking at me with that same gaze she held during practice that I couldn't help but shy away from until she reminded me that I was supposed to look at her. "We probably shouldn't—do it yet, right?" I whispered.
"Hmhm."
We always practiced near the end of our assigned time together. Doing it before… well, it was tough to have to go back to normal like nothing had happened after that. And structurally, well, it just made more sense.
"If you want to keep looking at me from this position, that's fine," I said.
"No." Maylene finally got off. "That position's dangerous. I might do something bad." Something bad? She must have meant touching outside of practice time for more than a split-second. "You… used my nickname."
"Oh. Oh, sorry. It kind of just slipped out; I've heard Candice use it all the time lately, so I guess I unconsciously said it."
"It's fine," she said.
"Names are important; I shouldn't have used it without your permission." Maylene's friends did use it a whole lot, so it wasn't like it was—okay, maybe it was a big deal, but it wasn't that bad.
"I meant you can call me that," Maylene said, cheeks dusting with a slight tint of red.
I blinked at her really fast. "That makes sense." I wasn't certain I would do it much, though. It felt like a line crossed. "Oh! You know, speaking of nicknames, this girl from my piano class is just so weird with them! She just adds an 's' at the end of everything—her name is Jess…"
Things continued going pretty well after that. I spoke to her about piano class until I ran out of things to say, though she seemed pretty proud I'd made two friends-acquaintances-whatever they were. I couldn't tell her much about wanting to train with Marley because I'd kind of promised I wouldn't say anything about it, but it was going to be a work in progress. She asked about therapy next and kind of… pushed me a little, saying that it sounded as if I didn't care. I did care, just not as much as this. Me and my therapist just hadn't clicked yet like I had immediately with Aliyah. Luckily, mom came by to save me and asked if we were sure we didn't need anything else.
The atmosphere remained light afterward, and much of our time was spent just browsing through Maylene's Chatter feed or looking at people asking who it was I had followed. Melody had already sent me a worried message, but apparently, Poketch had just… figured out it was Maylene's alt? It was creepy how they could just do that. Anyway, it was all fun and games until she said I needed to unfollow that account. Apparently if no one said anything, most people would just think it had been a missclick, and the rumors would die down.
She had said I could follow Maylene's official account if I wanted, so I did that, along with Candice's. I wanted to go for Gardenia's as well, but was worried it would come off as stalkerish until Maylene pressed it for me—without my permission! 'A joke,' she called it. She was lucky I couldn't stay mad at her long.
Now, it'd be odd to unfollow her. I hoped I would be able to go to her Gym soon, but she was still busy.
Time always went faster when you had fun, and these two hours were going by so quickly. It wasn't until 9:30 pm that we shared a knowing look, instantly recognizing that it was time to get serious and dive into our practice session.
"Where do you want to do it?" For a moment, I thought she'd been asking me where I wanted to be touched and nearly blurted something out, but she was asking where I wanted to be. Her voice was a low whisper, as it always was before we started. Mine was, too.
The room felt a lot more cramped now. "I guess I can stay sitting on the bed," I mumbled.
Maylene stood up, then eyed me for a second. "I—I think it's too low; it wouldn't be comfortable for what I want." Upon further reflection, I understood what she meant. She'd probably have to lean in really close if she wanted it to work.
"Against the wall is fine, then," the words slipped out.
"Okay." Maylene fiddled on her phone, no doubt setting up her alarm. "I actually—since this is kind of our last session before you branch out, I was thinking that we both get five minutes." I could tell this was something she'd been trying to figure out how to bring it up. "If you're fine with it."
"Me? Doing the touching?"
"I'd go first. And if you aren't comfortable, we don't have to," Maylene reassured me.
The thought of it sat in my head, spinning around my brain as I considered every angle. I wasn't supposed to be touching her, though theoretically, nothing in the contract on our phones said that. It only mentioned 'contact,' and that was from either party. It had been more of a moral objection than anything else on my part. Yet here she was, offering herself up to me. I hadn't been the one to ask. And if it was just for tonight… this might be my final opportunity.
"Can we see how I feel after yours?" I said, unsure of myself.
"Sure. I put two alarms this time," Maylene said.
We got into position, with me again close to a structure to support myself on. The nightstand wasn't that stable, but it would do. I flinched, whimpering when Maylene brought her hand close to me until I realized she'd been grabbing the lamp and putting it on the ground.
"We don't want it to fall off, right?" she breathed out. "Are you ready?" A nod. "Remember the safe word."
Another nod to signal her to start, and she began. Maylene's hands moved in two different directions. Her right went down, and her left went up—oh my God, she was going for the face—the leg?—this was so overwhelming—
The first point of contact sent a shiver through me, her touch firm yet delicate as her fingers brushed against my skin. Her left hand traced the line of my jaw, her thumb lightly brushing my cheek as her fingers cradled my face. It was a tender, almost reverent touch that made my breath hitch in my throat. The next touched my thigh through the fabric, at first. It was nearly a grab that made it difficult to stand straight because of the tremor it sent down my leg.
While her right hand slid down my leg, her thumb traced the corner of my lip. There was barely any pressure—it was just a graze, probably accidental, but it made me hyperaware of hers. The subtle curve to them was gone; she was entirely focused on this. On me. Right now, they were relaxed. There was a delicate sheen to them, as if she'd unconsciously moistened them in thought. Each of the harsh breaths she took made them part just a little more.
Maylene leaned in, not close enough to be near my ear, but— "Remember to breathe," she whispered, and I inhaled what felt like the largest, shivering breath I'd ever taken. Her voice diluted in my ear and made me bite my lip in desperation to stop my voice from leaking uncontrollably.
My face felt so hot I thought the skin was going to burn off and meld with her hand. Every time my head would move, she'd bring it back up with a finger so I could look at her, and it was burning, and it was intense, and it was demanding, and it was everything.
But something changed on her left hand. She grew more confident as the dozens of seconds that seemed so long yet so short passed. I was left with a moment—just a moment of respite as Maylene quickly crouched and grabbed onto the bottom of my dress. The light, blue fabric shifted up under her touch. Up and up and up, her fingertips leaving a trail of heat in their wake and goosebumps across my legs. She brushed up against the burned skin right above my knee and stayed there until—
Until the alarm rang. My head was so foggy I thought ten minutes had passed, but that was just five. Just five. What if it had been ten? What if she'd kept shifting ever closer to me? My heart was hammering against my ribcage like an animal begging to be let out. Her hands immediately got off me, and for a while, we just stood there as the feeling faded, heaving for air to recover from the fervor of that half-session.
"Sorry. I thought two places at once might be too intense," she paused to take a breath, "but I went for it anyway."
"It's fine. It's like, a final test." I wasn't in a much better state. "The darkness on you is fading really fast. It was a good session." The few slivers that remained were on her fingertips and bleeding into the world. In a few dozen seconds, there'd be nothing left.
"Good. That's good. It's important to stay focused."
"Yep. Focused," I mirrored.
"Are you good to go for your turn?" she asked. "Or should I keep going?"
"I think I—I think I can handle it. Can I do your stomach?" I blurted out.
"Oh. Sure, you've been looking at it a lot. I thought maybe something was wrong." She'd caught that? Wait, of course, she had; her vision was top-notch. "I guess I'll sit on the bed for this one. If that's okay?"
"Sure. Do whatever you want," I mumbled.
Maylene sat on the bed, fingers digging into the side of the thin mattress, and I got on my knees. She was staring down at me. There was something about that look that just—something about it just got me. Maylene lifted her tank top and revealed her full stomach, keeping it under her chest. The skin was smooth and taut, with faint lines of her abdominal muscles subtly outlined beneath the surface. Even if the lighting here was garbage, it glowed from the nightlamp, and the sweat on it glistened almost invitingly.
There was no denying that the hints of it had caught my attention all night long. It was just—when you looked at it from a non-biased standpoint, it was…
I lost my train of thought.
Shit, I was wasting time. "I can—I can go, right?" I asked, impatience leaking through my shaky voice.
"Yeah." The reply came breathless.
My fingers hesitantly reached out, but I didn't even manage a slight graze before a soft, blue glow started to leak out of Maylene's skin. My hand didn't flinch back. The aura felt cold, yet hot at the same time, a confusing blend that I was in no mind to try to even think about. It wasn't—wasn't hurting me. I looked up at Maylene, who nodded, and I kept reaching out until I managed a graze, gliding over the defined lines and feeling the slight give of her muscles under my touch. She was so warm. Her stomach pushed against me with every shaking breath. And while her being on the receiving end wasn't usual, it wasn't bad, either. Even if me touching her tainted her far more than her touching me. I angled my hand up in an attempt to get my full palm to touch—
Maylene's head whirled up, and she inhaled sharply. Too sharply for it to be a result of what I'd been doing. "Crap—your mom! Your mother's coming up the stairs!"
Immediately, panic sent in; it was an easy transition. The quick breaths went from some kind of yearning and exhaustion to stress, and the excitement of my beating heart turned into anxiety. Part of me wanted to double down and say we weren't doing anything bad, but I knew how it would look if she came in and I was on my knees in front of Maylene while she was lifting her shirt—and she was already putting it down anyway. We scrambled into whatever would seem natural positions. Maylene was fastest and just sat on the bed, so I followed suit, making sure to be as far away from her as possible.
We were lucky Maylene had one undamaged ear left and had good hearing, or it might have been too late. Mom knocked, and while Maylene didn't look ready at all, we needed to answer and tell her to come in, or she'd get worried and do so anyway. Telling her not to would just make her suspicious. Maylene whispered to tell her to enter.
Okay. Deep breaths. Nothing was happening. "Come in!" The door opened, bits of torn wood raking against the floor. "Mom," I exhaled, each breath long, loud and drawn out. "What's wrong? Did my Pokemon need something? I told you we didn't need any snacks." My head subconsciously turned toward Maylene, who was as red as a tomato. At least she'd stopped leaking aura.
"I heard something rattling up here; I thought there was a problem." Fuck. Fuck! The Arceus damn nightstand? Really? "Is everything okay up here?" She glanced between me and Maylene, a constant dance that grew more and more suspicious every time her gaze passed over us.
"Yep. Yep. Perfectly okay," Maylene said in the most apprehensive way possible. "I was just going to—I was gonna leave soon, Ms… is it still Pastel?"
"It is still Pastel," mom confirmed in a pointed tone and crossed her arms. "You'd better come downstairs."
I did my best not to glance toward Maylene or not to show disappointment that we wouldn't be able to finish practice today. All I could think about as we all walked down the stairs was the shape of her abs on my palm and how her aura writhed around my hand like a living, breathing being without even hurting me. At least just getting yanked back into the real world had done wonders to recover quicker than usual.
Once we all entered the living room, Maylene spoke up again. "Actually, I think I'm gonna leave a little early." I eyed her as if my eyes could throw out knives. Don't just abandon me here with all of this, you ass! I knew she'd just have to hide out there until Kadabra came back, anyway. She met my gaze with an apologetic look. "Or—or maybe not?"
"Oh, we wouldn't want to hold you up here." Mom was saying this, but I could tell she wanted her to stay. "Unless you have something to tell me?" It was odd to hear her speak this way. In all of our time reconnecting, she'd never, ever sounded like she might scold me. Scold us.
"Not at all; but Kadabra will take a bit to get here anyway." She echoed my thoughts as mom motioned at us to sit on different parts of the couch. "I—I could tell him to swing by early, though."
"That won't be necessary—now listen, girls. I don't want to imply anything here, but on the off-chance that something might have been happening upstairs, I feel the need to mention this. Leader Maylene, you do know my daughter is dating another girl—"
"Oh God, why are you being so weird?" I interrupted her as I threw my hands up. "Nothing was happening, and she does know! We're just—friends." That hadn't come out as easily as it once did. Something to worry about later.
"I've been helping Grace with… therapy." Maylene was looking down at her feet, refusing to meet my mother's stare.
"And are you a licensed therapist, young lady?" Mom's voice was a sharp knife.
"Well, no, but—it works for her," she tried.
"Look. All she does is touch parts of my skin for ten minutes because my head is so fucked that I think I'll make people worse if they even graze me. People who aren't my parents." It was humiliating to say it out loud to anyone who wasn't Maylene. I wasn't meant to be exposed like this, to step out into the spotlight and to be seen as the freak that I was. "And I hate the idea of making my friends sink down to my level, so it's intense for me. I sweat and breathe harshly and stuff."
"Does your actual therapist know about this?" mom asked. I couldn't tell if she believed me or not; I hadn't known her for long enough to know her tells.
"Yes, okay? He does!" I groaned. He knew about my condition, not what I was doing to fix it. "And it won't be just her doing this." From now on, at least. "If you really need reassurance, I can bring you to one of my friends the next time I do this."
I hadn't even given thought to who would be helping me. Denzel would be my first choice, but his parents made things really uncomfortable. Pauline or Emilia might have too many questions… maybe Chase? I felt like he'd do it no questions asked. Just keep a hand wrapped around my wrist for ten minutes, call me a weirdo, and then be on his way. It would be a lot more transactional, less intimate, and part of me thought that would blow.
My mother drew out a long sigh and closed her eyes, whispering Arceus' name under her breath. "Okay, Grace. I'll come and see what this is about, but I'd like it if you dealt with it only with professionals." Thank the Legendaries, she was letting this stupid idea go, though I didn't think she would actually agree to look at me practicing— "But I'll leave you with this thought, okay? And it's for both of you. Oh, and I'm telling your dad."
I leaned against the armrest with an exasperated sigh as she launched into her story. "When I was younger, I made a horrible, horrible mistake. I cheated on my husband." She paused, letting the idea sink in. I couldn't bear to look at Maylene right now. "For a while, it was emotional. Flirty comments, and going shopping, and restaurants, and bars…" she shook her head, face scrunching up at the memory. "It hadn't escalated yet physically, but it was still cheating, even then." A pit started to form in my stomach, and my hands grew moist. That wasn't me. It wasn't. Couldn't be. "As a general rule of thumb, you should never do something if you would need to hide it from your partner."
Ah.
Okay.
Everything was fine. It was still under control.
"I would have told her already," I said. "But she's off-route with no service, and I don't even know where exactly beyond the fact that she's south of here. The plan was always to tell her when she came back."
I wasn't delusional; I knew Cecilia wouldn't be indifferent to the time I was spending with Maylene. But she would understand, right? She'd left me, and I accepted that. I knew she needed time for herself to work through our issues. But I'd been at my lowest point. I wasn't like her. Once, I might have been capable of running away and figuring everything out on my own. And maybe, eventually, I could have managed without Maylene's help. But there was no denying how quickly things had improved with her. Without her? I turned toward the Gym Leader, relieved to see that she'd relaxed as well. Seeing her calm made me feel even calmer in turn.
Without her, just reaching this point might have taken months. There was no doubt in my mind now that my mental health would have cratered had I actually managed to reject Maylene at the Ceremony. I still got goosebumps when I closed my eyes and saw her there, saving me like a damn prince, telling me to taint her and that she could take it. It might have stopped me from ever starting to train in hopes of getting into the Conference. It might have made me start skipping piano and therapy lessons so I could lay in my bed all day—it wasn't like dad would know; he was always at work. It might have stopped me from making new friends—I was ready to call them that, now.
And then Cecilia would come back, all fixed or on the road to being fixed, and where would I be?
I'd be useless. A lump of flesh rotting in my room for days with just my Pokemon to support me.
I wasn't like Cecilia. I needed people. Bellatrix, Jasmine, Aliyah—I needed people to hold on to be myself.
Herdier broke the silence with a whine, and my mother followed suit. "Then why did you hide it from—" she clicked her tongue and bit her lip. "I'm just glad you'll tell her, and I hope to Arceus you're telling the truth. I think it might be best if you got going now," she told Maylene, still in that same pointed tone.
"Right. Thanks for having me over, Ms. Pastel. I—I'll message my Gym so they send Kadabra over—"
Maylene's alarm rang throughout the living room, signaling that another five minutes had passed. My mom paid it no mind, but she looked extremely confused at the face we both made. Lately, I'd begun to associate the alarm sound with practice, so it was weird to have it just out in the open.
When Maylene turned off the alarm and finished sending her message, I shot up. "Ah—I'll see you out."
We set out into the warm night air. Sweetheart was sleeping soundly in the grass, snoring like there was no tomorrow with her head against a bundle of Angel's vines for a pillow. The grass type leaned back and forth like a living cradle, and Mimi's golden gear poked out of the sea of vines on his head.
"How's he doing that while he's sleeping?" Maylene whispered at me.
Oh, thank the Legendaries, things were normal and not awkward. "I dunno. I think it's kind of built into him."
Cass and Buddy were standing watch, their eyes glowing in the night, and Princess was drooling all over Sunshine's arm while she cuddled next to him below that same tree he'd been sleeping under the majority of the day. The only one who wasn't asleep was Honey, who waved at me with an ever-widening grin, sparks flying out of his fingertips. I waved back and whispered that I'd come by to talk soon.
Mom was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, and waiting for me to come back in. I'd wanted to hold Maylene's hands, since I technically had like four minutes left even if the alarm had rung.
So instead, I just stood in front of her. "Sorry. My mom kind of ruined our special practice." It was still astonishing to me that what had made her climb up was the stupid nightstand. I wanted to kick that thing. "She kind of ruined the…" what even could I call this? It wasn't— it wasn't a mood, that implied something more than this was. Vibe, maybe? Coming up empty, I let out a frustrated groan. "She picked a really bad moment."
Maylene let out a little embarrassed laugh. "Yeah, she did. But you don't need to apologize, it's also my fault. I was kind of intense because it was our last… well, you of all people would get it."
"Hey," I whined in faux-offense. "What's that mean?"
She rolled her eyes at me. "Do I need to pull out today's texts and read them out?" Before waiting for an answer, she did. "And you wearing the same thing would be nice in a symbolism kind of way. It would rhyme. I like it when that happens—"
"No!" I laughed. "Wait, stop, I was joking!" My face was warm. Everything was so warm.
She didn't finish reading the text. "You're so easy to fluster, y'know?"
"Sure." I drew out the word and glanced back at the door. "If mom wasn't watching, I would have touched you to make it easier to grab the phone." Maylene stewed with those thoughts, hand clenching around the device. "Who's easy to fluster now, hm?"
"Whatever. It would have been a repeat of earlier, anyway. You're so slow. Like a Shuckle."
"That's just called normal human speed!" I protested a little too loud. Mom had probably heard that one.
"No, even for a normal human, you're really slow," she teased, teeth shining in the night as she smiled. "You're gonna need that treadmill."
"One day, I'll surprise you if you don't watch out."
"Yeah, when Lechonk grow wings." The playful atmosphere faded away a little as Maylene's stare turned tender. "Um. Listen, I know we won't be practicing for a while, but next time," she leaned in and whispered, "just as an exception, we can do fifteen minutes to get your time back."
I stood there stunned as Kadabra popped into existence. "Wh—wh—"
"See you later, dummy." She leaned a little further forward toward my forehead, which I couldn't help but bow, feeling a slight shift in the air.
Nothing came of it. Maylene disappeared in the wind, along with the psychic, and it was only now that the things she'd said registered in my mind.
D—dummy?
Dummy?!
How was I supposed to go to sleep now?
—
I hadn't slept.
My mother had thankfully not been weird about things when I came back in that night, but I'd gone back in my room rather early anyway to avoid the possibility.
I yawned as mom, Honey and I shuffled toward the school. I'd seen it while flying over Twinleaf, but it was my first time actually getting a good look up close. The school stood quietly in the early morning light, its brick facade catching the soft, golden hues of the morning sun. I was kind of too out of it to pay much attention, especially when it was so early. Even then, some kids were already here with their parents. People of all ages, from the little five-year-old pre-schoolers to the few jaded high schoolers hanging out in the corner of the schoolyard to adults moving out and about the school. I wondered if a few of those teenagers would be becoming trainers next year.
Part of me wanted to go and say hello as some kind of exercise in being more social and maybe make a few friends for the rest of the weekend, but I was too tired to do so, and I was needed in the kitchen anyway. The party hadn't officially kicked off—it would only do so at nine in the morning, so in two hours—but what we were going to do was essentially mass-produce food for the hundreds of people that would come.
"The thing about small towns like this is that everyone knows each other," mom had explained before we entered the yard. People kept greeting her on the way inside the building, accosting her at every turn, asking her how she was holding up with grandma's death, or asking to get to know me.
They knew she had a daughter—today was just the first time seeing her. Seeing me.
"You know, I'm sorry I never asked you," I said. We stepped through the school's entrance, the wooden double doors creaking slightly as they swung open. The foyer was welcoming and warm, a stark contrast to the crisp morning air outside. The floor was a mix of polished hardwood and well-worn tiles, their surfaces reflecting the soft, natural light that filtered in through the large windows flanking the entrance. Directly ahead, a wide staircase with sturdy banisters led to the upper floors, its steps worn and slightly concave from years of students hurrying up and down. "About grandma. I'm sorry."
"Oh." A sad smile stretched upon her face. "I'll miss her. She—"
"Sam!" a woman, maybe ten years younger, walked up to my mother. A small boy was behind her, pulling on the fabric of her loose skirt. "And who's this? Wait!" She gasped. "Your daughter? No way! And with an Electivire?"
Another round of introductions, of smiles, and of pleasantries, though this conversation was lasting longer than usual. I walked down the hall a little bit, feeling nostalgic for school—something I never thought could ever happen. Yeah, I had piano classes, but they weren't the same.
The little kid, who must have been five, six at most, pulled on my sleeve. "Hey, miss! Why is your face and arm like that? It's weird!" He pointed up at my burns with that big, wondrous curiosity only a child his age could have.
I smiled, crouching in front of him. "Well, you see, I have a Pokemon called Sunshine who I fought in Mount Coronet, and he nearly burned me to death when I caught him." Something shattered on the kid's face, and he started to tear up, glancing up at Honey a few feet behind us. "W—wait! That's not him, this is Honey! Honey! And it doesn't actually hurt in the moment! Because you have this thing called adrenaline, okay? And that tricks your body into not focusing on the pain so you canrespondtothethreataswellaspossible—"
Man, he was already crying. Someone tapped my shoulder behind me—my mother and Honey, the former of which looked to be very angry at the fact that I'd made a kid burst into tears while the latter was horrified that he'd been compared to Sunshine.
"Sorry?" I tried.
Was I bad with kids, now?
A/N: Up next, the Cecilia Interlude…s? Maybe there'll be two.