Post by jenn on Feb 18, 2009 10:51:55 GMT -5
Title: The Amazing Adventures of a Not-So-Amazing Girl
Rating: PG
Warnings: A cheerleader gets smooshed like a bug. Oh, and a few swears.
Summary: Shy, bookwormish Lynne's worry-fraught existence comes to an close upon the first day of 7th grade, when she meets the spaztastic Tom. Barely a minute or two later, an alien crashes through their classroom wall, heralding the beginning of a weird journey.
Disclaimer: NOT DONE YET!
Glancing down at the notice that had come in the mail and was now clenched in my increasingly sweaty palm, I saw that it said Portable 53.
Okay, Portable 53.
Now where the hell was that?
The remaining days of summer vacation had passed so fast, you'd think someone had found a fast-forward button for my life. Before I knew it, the "first day of school" had soon become "next month," and then, "next week." And now, here it was...today.
Being the semi-OCD person that I am, I stayed up until ten (an hour and a half past my normal school night bedtime--I know, I'm completely and utterly lame). I folded and re-folded my clothes for the next day. I made sure that everything I needed was packed, and packed neatly, at that. I went over the supply list my teachers had sent fifty thousand times at least.
"Excuse me," I asked someone, using my politest Teacher's Pet voice, "do you know where Portable 53 is?"
"Fuck you," he said.
My face flamed. How rude! I had half a mind to punch him in his profane little nose, but he was already gone. Stupid eighth grader. I turned around and saw a portable. I squinted at the little copper-colored numbers. 53. Aha. I knew I should have been blond.
Feeling very stupid indeed, I went into the portable. Strangely, no one was there, apart from one relatively short, skinny boy with a spectacularly messy case of brown bed head. He was doodling on the whiteboard with a squeaky orange marker.
My first instinct was to go into the nearest corner and bury my nose in a book. That was Shy Lynne thinking. Die, nerd, die, the rest of me thought brusquely.
"Eh?" said the boy, pausing in his drawing.
I hadn't realized I'd been thinking out loud. "Uh...whatcha drawing?"
"A moose," the boy replied solemnly.
"A moose?"
"Yes. A moose. Wearing a top hat and eating some walnuts," said the boy, completely deadpan.
"Interesting," I said. This guy is a freak, I thought. "Do you normally draw weird things on classroom whiteboards?"
He shrugged. "I wouldn't say normally. Whenever the mood strikes me."
A moment passed. And suddenly, he cracked up.
"The expression on your face," the boy cackled. "Priceless."
"No harm done," I said. "No doubt many people get much amusement from my face. And that sounded a lot less weird in my head."
The boy gave another hoot of laughter. "By the way, my name's Tom."
"Nice to meet you, Tom." I extended one hand, and Tom shook it. "I'm Lynne."
Believe it or not, that was not the weirdest thing to happen that day.
The classroom gradually filled up with students and the teacher actually showed up, so Tom and I each had to find our seats. My seat, unfortunately, was between the smelly kid and a gaggle of popular girls.
With a screechy microphone noise, the intercom came on for the morning announcements. "Good morning, H. J. Granger Junior High. It's a chilly 79 degrees outside, and--OH MY GOD, WHAT IS THAT THING? IT'S COMING STRAIGHT AT US!" The morning announcer lady let out a scream that a horror movie actress would be proud of, before the intercom clicked off.
Moments later, an enormous spaceship crashed through the portable wall. It was vaguely square-shaped and shiny, like a toaster that had been polished.
One of the popular girls shrieked. "Ehmagod, that space toaster killed Miranda!"
I looked toward them. It had, indeed. The girl's blond had was like a squashed pumpkin under the debris, and her scrawny, manicured hand twitched lifelessly.
My attention suddenly returned to the space toaster. With a whooshing sound, a thick cloud of smoke wafted out and a ramp set itself up. A girl walked down the ramp and put up a hand to shield her eyes.
My first impression of her was that she looked rather like a porcelain doll. Her skin was as pale as paper, making her mouth seem redder than a stripe on a candy cane. Her wide, porcelain doll eyes were green like grass, and she wore a matching ribbon to hold back her shiny black hair.
That's what I thought, that is, until the girl transformed into a hamster and back.
"ALIEN!" someone yelled.
"Finally!" I heard Tom yelled.
"Shut up, will you?" shouted the alien doll girl.
"Yes, yes. Stop the shouting with more shouting," said a strangely tinny little voice from inside the space toaster. "Blow our cover some more, you lousy pilot."
"Uh--don't worry, noisy little Earth children," the alien doll girl said, raising her palms in a sign of surrender.
"WATCH OUT!" someone hollered. "She's gonna shoot lasers from her pinkies!"
"No I'm not," the alien said irritably.
"Yes you are! I saw it on the Discovery Channel!"
"I come in peace," said the alien girl loudly.
"Didja hear that? SHE'S GONNA CHOP US INTO LITTLE PIECES! RUNNN!" The entire class, including the teacher, started to run around, screaming and bumping into furniture. Clearly delighted by the chaos, Tom started jumping up and down with a broad grin on his face. "Hey! Hey you! Alien girl! Over here!"
She looked his way.
"Hang on a sec," said Tom, fishing something out of his pocket. He pulled out a cell phone and snapped a picture of the alien, who let out a bloodcurdling screech.
"How--how DARE you, you filthy worm monkey?" The alien snatched Tom by the collar and lifted him up so she could glare into his face at eye level. "Are you INSANE, little worm monkey?"
"My name is Tom," he said, obviously trying to remain calm.
"I don't give a tiny little rat's arse what your name is," the alien girl snarled. "Are you even aware of the horrid thing you've done to me?" I realized that she, strangely, had the slightest hint of a British accent.
"Uh...no, but I'm not aware of most things," said Tom. "Please enlighten me."
"Idiot human. Taking a picture of someone steals their soul. You have stolen my soul, you mop-headed twig boy!" She let go, pushing him back with a force you wouldn't have thought possible from a porcelain doll. Tom staggered and crashed into the desk behind him, cursing colorfully.
"What a load of crap," I blurted.
The alien girl turned her green gaze on me. "Excuse me?" she said icily. I instantly regretted my words, knowing that I was probably going to die now, but I had already said them and decided to go with it.
"Cameras can't steal your soul," I said firmly, folding my arms. "No more than cats can fly."
She took one graceful, porcelain doll step towards me. "And who are you, human, to say such things?" She stared at me fiercely, daring me to say another word.
"My name is Lynne," I said, sounding a lot more confident than I felt. "And I'll thank you to stop acting like you've got a gigantic stick up your behind."
Suddenly the girl smiled, and she looked less like a porcelain doll and more like a person. "I like your spunk, human."
"It's Lynne," I corrected her.
"Whatever." She placed her delicate hands on her hips and surveyed the room. "Oh, be quiet, you bloody wounds in my ears!"
Immediately, everybody obeyed, having seen her shove Tom. They cowered quietly underneath desks and chairs.
"I'm really very sorry that I crashed through the wall," said the alien girl to me apologetically. "We ran out of gas."
Tom, who had stood up again long ago, perked up. "Gas? I've got plenty of it. Pull my finger."
"Oh, god, please no," I pleaded urgently.
"Not that kind of gas," the girl said irritably, at the same time.
"Oh," said Tom. He looked disappointed.
"Do you know of anywhere that we could get some?" the girl asked me.
"Uh...I think the teacher has gas at his desk," I said, at which point Tom started giggling madly. "You know, for science experiments and stuff."
"Thank you," said the girl. "By the way, once we get fueled up, would you like to join us on our journey? It's only fair, considering the way we interrupted your schoolday."
"Sounds like fun," I said, trying to remain casual, like I went into outer space every day. "Count me in."
"Wait!" Tom cried. "You interrupted my schoolday, too! Aren't I invited?"
"Well..." the girl began.
Tom suddenly let out a sob and fell heavily on his knees. "Please, please, please, please, plea-hea-heeeaaase! Take me! Take me away from this festering hellhole! I can't stand another day!"
"You've been here for an hour," I said, staring at him.
"Yes, and already I've gone completely mad! I was as sane as you when I walked in here!" sobbed Tom. "Just think of what'll happen in a year! I'll end up in a freakin' straitjacket." He gazed appealingly up at the girl, and I realized that, underneath all the tears and snot on his face, he was kind of cute. Completely insane, but cute.
The alien girl was unimpressed. "Nice try, but puppy dog eyes don't work on me. I'm more of a cat person, you see. But I suppose I'll let you come anyway."
Tom sprang to his feet, howling like an angry monkey. Grinning from ear to ear, he spread his arms out as if to hug me, but I shook my head. "No way. You're not coming anywhere near me. Try a tissue box first."
Taking me at my word, he walked over and actually hugged the tissue box. The alien girl turned toward her toaster of a spaceship. "Get over here!" she hollered.
Vwoom. Suddenly a glowy blue pair of eyes were staring into mine. I screamed. It screamed. It fell off of my head and onto the floor with a clunk. I saw that "it" was a little robot in the shape of a cat, made out of the same metal as the toaster, except for its eyes, which were two oval-shaped computer screens.
"Hello, butthead!" it squealed, in that same tinny voice that I'd heard before.
"I see you've met Robocat," said the girl. "Robe, go fetch the can of gas from under the desk and put it in the spaceship," she ordered.
In a flash of shiny metal, the cat zoomed there and back. "Done!"
"Now, let's get going," she said to all three of us. "We must hurry. We're behind schedule."
"My name is Animalia," the girl told us as she settled into the pilot's chair. "You may call me Molly."
"Alrighty-roo," said Tom, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor.
"So, what's the deal with the hamster thing?" I asked her. "How come you can do that?"
"Well, I am of a certain race...I won't say its name; it is one your human vocal cords cannot accommodate."
"SCHMEERSHKIN!" Tom yelled.
Molly looked startled. "Why, yes, that's it. How did you know?"
Tom shrugged. "I dunno. I just shout the first thing that pops into my head."
"Well, anyway," Molly continued, "we are a race with the ability to change form. You humans might call us 'shape-shifters'. There are several kinds among us. One kind can change their appearances in small ways--you know, hair color and eye color and the like. That's the simplest form of transformation: everybody on Schmeersh can do it. The second kind is transformation into inanimate objects. It's very tricky, and almost no one bothers to learn it because it's so boring. The third kind, my preferred method, is animal transformation. It's a little rarer than the first. I'm the only one in my family since my great-grandmother who has been able to do it," Molly said, only sounding slightly stuck-up about it.
"You mean," said Tom, "if you wanted to turn your hair purple with green stripes, you could do it?"
Molly put her hands on her head and slowly smoothed back her hair. When she took her hands away, it was, indeed, purple with green stripes.
"Your yabbering is boring me," Robocat announced loudly. "Someone entertain me. Oh and, by the way, Molly, liftoff was successful. The Flying Toaster is now on autopilot."
"Excellent, Robocat, thank you," Molly said with a serene porcelain doll smile. She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms behind her head and putting her feet up on the dashboard.
"Wait a minute," I said. "We just went into space while you were talking to us?"
"Oh, yes," said Molly. "Some humans are awfully ridiculous about going into space, so I distracted you."
"You could have told us," Tom said crossly.
"I didn't want to take any chances," said Molly.
Suddenly the ship gave a mighty lurch. Molly tumbled out of her chair. Robocat collided with her head. I fell, quite embarrassingly, on Tom.
"Ow! What have you eaten, twenty pounds of lead?" Molly yelped.
"Your head isn't exactly a fluffy pillow, you know," Robocat grumbled.
I hastily drew back from Tom. "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it. It's not your fault," Tom assured me. "Hey, Molly!"
"Yes?" Molly said, sitting up gingerly and rubbing her head.
"What kind of ship has no seat belts and no extra seats?"
"I wasn't expecting to take two humans aboard," Molly said irritably. "Do shut up, because we're going through an asteroid belt and I need to pilot manually now."
Molly took hold of the steering wheel. As she swerved this way and that, she swore heavily in another language. I could tell by her voice that they were swears. Robocat stood up and ran around in circles, screeching at the top of his lungs. With every swerve and shake, he'd crash headfirst into the floor, then get back up and start screeching again. Tom and I exchanged glances.
"We're gonna die," said Tom.
"I know, but it doesn't sound right to say it calmly," I said.
"Okay." He leaned his head right up to my ear and yelled, "WE'RE GONNA DIE!"
I clapped a hand to it. "Better," I said, ear still ringing.
Robocat hopped with feline agility onto his master's shoulder. "Whassamatter?" he asked, peering out of the enormous Plexiglas window that made up a large portion of the cockpit.
"Asteroid belt, didn't you hear?" said Molly through gritted teeth, as she took a hard left that sent Tom's face into my lap. Robocat took the steering wheel and Tom, quite red in the face, quickly sat up, apologizing profusely.
"Are you kidding me? This is sooo easy to get out of," Robocat bragged.
"Do it, then, if you're so smart!" Molly retorted.
Robocat saluted her with one tiny paw and twiddled the steering wheel. Moments later, we were flying through clear, navy blue space, the asteroids becoming increasingly small specks behind us.
"Well, I'll be," said Tom.
"You stupid flesh bags owe me, big time," said Robocat, with a very self-satisfied smirk.
"So, where exactly are we going?"
"Are you always so nosy?" Molly asked.
"Chillax, girlfriend," said Robocat, munching on a corn dog. "Kick back. Enjoy the ride. Go with the flow, man."
"Hey, where'd you get that?" Tom asked curiously, referring to the corn dog.
"My foot," said Robocat, as if this were not only normal but obvious.
"He removes parts of himself in order to store food," Molly explained. "I've no idea why."
"Because it's cool," Robocat said, and that was that.
"To answer your question, Earthling--" Molly began.
"Lynne."
"Excuse me?"
"My name. It's Lynne. Not 'Earthling'."
"Fine, Lynne," Molly said, giving in just to get me to shut up. "Well, we're not exactly going anywhere in particular, you see. It's a sort of intergalactic road trip."
"Only not on a road," said Robocat.
"Why?" asked Tom.
"People to see, things to do," Robocat explained. He paused, obviously wondering if he had enough guts to reverse the phrases. He didn't. Tom coughed "perv!" anyway.
"Indeed," said Molly. "Anyway, the universe really is an amazing place, and Robocat and I don't intend on stopping until we've seen it all."
Robocat nodded solemnly. "Or until we run out of gas again."
"That too."
I had a feeling that there was another reason, a deeper, more reasonable one, but Molly wasn't divulging any more information, so I wasn't about to ask her. Tom, quite wisely, changed the subject.
"Where are we going first?"
Molly and Robocat exchanged glances.
"We haven't decided yet," Molly admitted.
"As unbelievable as that seems," said Robocat. Molly glared at him.
"We do have it narrowed down to three attractions in the area, though," Molly said.
"What are they?" I asked. This whole sight-seeing-in-outer-space thing was really peaking my curiosity, which was rarely peaked.
The enormous zeros that had been displayed on Robocat's pale green computer screen eyes like pupils suddenly vanished, leaving his eyes strangely blank. Then his eyes glowed blue, humming and thrumming with activity as thousands of ones and zeros scrolled across the screen and eventually turned into web pages.
"The Universe's Only Hollow Planet," Robocat said in a stiff, computery voice. "The Ultimate Duck Museum. The Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota."
"Oh, my mistake, there's only two," said Molly. "The Biggest Ball of Twine was what we came to Earth to see."
"You know, there's a Biggest Ball of Twine here in Maine," I said.
"Told you so," Robocat said, looking at Molly pointedly.
"I don't get it," said Tom. "Does the museum show ultimate ducks, or is the ultimate museum for showing ducks?"
"Good question," said Molly.
"I WANNA SEE THE DUCKS!" Robocat hooted, throwing his little arms in the air.
"The Ultimate Duck Museum it is, then," Molly said, swiveling around in her chair and beginning to program the new destination into Autopilot.
It soon became very apparent that we would be sitting in the spaceship for a long, long time. Tom and I whiled away an hour or two playing Mad-Libs and giggling semihysterically about waffle irons, but that only lasted so long. We quickly grew bored.
"Are we there yet?" Tom whined.
"No," Molly said from her chair.
A moment passed.
"Are we there yet?"
"No," Molly repeated wearily.
This time he didn't even wait a minute or two. "Are we there yet?"
Molly clenched her jaw and screwed her eyes shut, grabbing her armrest in her hand and squeezing it so hard her knuckles turned white. I decided to cut her some slack.
"Yes, Tom, we're there," I said dryly.
"We are?" His dark brown eyes lit up with an insane sort of glee.
"Yes. That's why we're still moving."
He realized that I was being sarastic. "Oh," he said, painfully reminding me of a kicked puppy.
Molly, who had been breathing heavily through her nose like a bull about to charge, seemed perfectly calm now, going safely back into ice queen mode. "Robocat!" she barked.
"Yes, my Spiffiness?" Robocat yelled, snapping into a salute.
"Entertain the Earthlings," she ordered.
Robocat squealed with joy. "Oh, goody!" He turned to us like a conductor facing his orchestra and clapped his hands together, resulting in a noise like two frying pans banging together. Of all the things I would have guessed he would to, the one he actually did was the most surprising. And thus, he began to sing.
"There once was a boy of five
Who liked to play pranks on people
Then he was caught and hit with a festive doily hat
And hung from a church steeple
This is the theme song for insanity
There is no point, plot, or moral whatsoever
This is the theme song for insanity
A rather, I admit, useless endeavor
There once was a dog who could talk
And a mongoose who could talk too
They just talked and talked and talked and talked
Until their owner went insane and died, WOOH!
This is the theme song for insanity
There is no point, plot, or moral whatsoever
This is the theme song for insanity
A rather, I admit, useless endeavor
There once was a little girl
Who wanted to rule the whole planet
She was about to push the button that would begin her evil plot
When someone hit her with a frying pan...et
This is the theme song for insanity
It has no point, plot, or moral whatsoever
This is the theme song for insanity
A rather, I admit, useless endeavor"
Robocat suddenly took part in an invisible kickline, kicking left and right slowly to the beat of the music in his head. "It's the theme song, oh, the theme song, for in-saaaaan-iiiiiit-yyyy!" He broke free of the kickline and, oblivious of the screeching fingernails-on-a-chalkboard noise it made, slid forward on his knees. He struck a pose, his little metal arms open wide. "Yeah!"
"Bravo, bravo! Encore, encore!" Tom was clapping wildly, as if it were good, or something.
"Really? Encore?" Robocat looked as hopeful as a robot possibly could.
"Really? No," I said, a bit sorry to burst his bubble.
"You know what's weird?" Tom asked me.
"No, what?"
"I just noticed. You're talking."
I rolled my eyes. "You just noticed?" These Lynne-doesn't-have-a-voice-box jokes were getting old.
"No, really," said Tom earnestly. "You never used to before."
"You didn't know me before," I said.
"Correction: you didn't know me. I've known you for a year at least," said Tom. "We were on the same team in sixth grade, remember?"
"No."
"That's because you hide in your own little world. If I recall correctly, you were the girl who got straight A's and complained whenever the chorus teacher made you altos do motions during our songs."
"Oh yeah," I said faintly. It was a little foggy, but I did remember.
"We're here!" Molly cried.
"Eh?" said Tom.
"Maybe you two were too busy flirting to hear," said Robocat slyly, "but master just said that we're here."
My face could not have been hotter if someone had pressed hot coals against it. "We were not flirting," I said scornfully.
"I was," said Tom.
I blinked.
"Kidding," he said, rolling his eyes. "God. Keep up, will you?"
Luckily, the space ship landed on one of the museum's many landing pads with a crash that made Molly bonk her head on the dashboard.
"Seat belts. Seriously," said Tom.
The ramp set itself up again, and Robocat zoomed out, closely followed by Tom. Taking my time, I let Molly go ahead of me and slowly stepped onto the ramp. The sight that met my eyes wasn't as amazing as I thought it would be. It looked exactly like any museum back on Earth--an enormous brown building with a little ticket kiosk in front.
Tom snickered and nudged me. "Looks like we've found the real reason Molly wanted to come here." I looked where he pointed, seeing Molly yakking it up with the ticket guy.
I could tell with one look that he was Schmeershkin, like Molly. He was handsome in the way Molly was beautiful, but there was a certain humanity to him that prevented him from looking like a porcelain doll. His red hair was a bit long for a boy's, and his eyes, which were gray like faded pavement, flickered with sarcasm. I decided that I liked this guy.
"Has hell frozen over?" Robocat remarked. "Finally. I thought I'd never get to use my ice skates."
I approached the ticket kiosk as Molly laughed a little too loudly at a joke. Leaning on her shoulder like we were the best of friends, I said, "So, who's your new boyfriend?"
Molly's wide grin became fixed. "Shut up," she said, grinding the heel of her combat boot into my poor toes. "Daemyn, this is Lynne. Lynne, this is Daemyn."
Daemyn. Animalia. What weird names, I thought. Do all Schmeershkin name their children so weirdly?
Hopping up on the counter, Robocat raised his paw for a high five. "Hey, Minnie, my man!"
Daemyn didn't 'five him.
"Oooh, burn," murmured Tom. I jumped, not knowing that he was standing behind me.
"I told you," said Daemyn, scowling down at Robocat. "My name is Daemyn." He turned to me, flashing a movie star's smile. "Pleased to meet you, Lynne." Feeling faintly giddy, I now understood how Molly must feel. "And--uh--"
"Tom," Tom supplied.
"So, um, we, uh--" began Molly, stammering.
Robocat coughed, not so discreetly, "Spit it out."
"We'd like tickets for the Ultimate Duck Museum," said Molly, knocking Robocat off the counter with just as much discretion.
"Of course you do," said Daemyn, smiling. He pressed several buttons on his cash register, and a string of tickets grew up out of a slot on the desk. He took them, tore the string into individual tickets, and handed all four to Molly.
"Thanks," Molly squeaked. Her pale face turned bright pink and she scurried off, burying her face in her hands. We hurried after her.
"Don't worry. It wasn't that bad," I said in an attempt to be comforting.
Molly lifted her head. All traces of pink were gone, her face back to perfectly smooth and white. She was the ice queen again. "I haven't the foggiest notion of what you're speaking of," she said coldly.
-------
Much to Tom's dismay, the museum did not show ultimate ducks. It did, however, have a great deal of normal duck paraphernalia, from duck artwork to hundreds of rubber duckies meant for use in the tub to an enclosure of real, live Earth ducks. Robocat squealed in delight when he saw a vendor selling duck-shaped sugar cookies and cakes.
"Can't we get some?" he pleaded. "Pleeeaaase?"
"I'm sorry, Robocat," said Molly, not looking very sorry at all, "but I don't have any money. I spent all I brought with me on the museum tickets."
Robocat turned his attention on Tom and I.
"Sorry, little dude," said Tom, indicating his empty pockets.
The poor little robot looked so sad. I couldn't have felt worse if he'd grabbed my heart with his little paws and wrung it out. I shoved my hand into my pocket and searched frantically. Nothing. I tried the other pocket. Aha! Triumphantly I pulled out a worn, bedraggled five dollar bill.
"Do you intend to buy snacks for everyone else in the museum, as well?" asked Molly, bemused.
"Huh?"
She stamped her foot impatiently. "Do you not know anything, Earth girl? Cats' whiskers, it's awfully annoying to have to explain everything. Your Earth money is worth much more on other planets such as these."
"Really?" said Tom. "I always thought it'd be the opposite."
"They are treated as rare artifacts, and they are worth hundreds of millions of Unis," Molly said. Seeing our blank looks, she added, "Universes, the official currency, acceptable on any planet that did or does exist...and a few that don't."
"In short, get me some cookies, Richie Richardson!" Robocat demanded. I bought him fifteen. He stared.
"Thank you," Robocat said weakly. "I--I love you." He dropped his precious cookies and hugged me around the knees. I felt warm and fuzzy inside, but not half as much as when Tom cried, "group hug!" and draped an arm around my shoulders.
Don't be stupid, Lynne, I instructed myself. I couldn't have a crush on Tom--he was my friend! And even if I did have a crush on him--there was no way I could tell him. It'd be too weird. No, better let my organs slowly eat themselves from the inside out and remain Tom's friend.
Tom waved at Molly with his free hand. "C'mon! Join the hug!"
"Join us," Robocat droned like a zombie.
Molly turned up her nose. "I refuse to be a part of this. Such immaturity. And in a public place!"
"Oh, don't be such a party pooper," I said, stretching an arm toward her.
Stiffening, Molly backed away. "No. It's--it's undignified," she said gravely.
Tom waved away the idea like a stinky smell. "You're hanging out with us now. Dignity's got nothing to do with it."
Grudgingly, Molly let herself be swallowed into the group hug, just as Robocat let go of my knees and started picking up his cookies.
"What a wuss," he said disparagingly of Molly, spraying pink cookie crumbs everywhere. "I can't believe you caved so easily."
Molly just glared at him.
Rating: PG
Warnings: A cheerleader gets smooshed like a bug. Oh, and a few swears.
Summary: Shy, bookwormish Lynne's worry-fraught existence comes to an close upon the first day of 7th grade, when she meets the spaztastic Tom. Barely a minute or two later, an alien crashes through their classroom wall, heralding the beginning of a weird journey.
Disclaimer: NOT DONE YET!
Chapter One: In Which Lynn and Tom Meet
Glancing down at the notice that had come in the mail and was now clenched in my increasingly sweaty palm, I saw that it said Portable 53.
Okay, Portable 53.
Now where the hell was that?
The remaining days of summer vacation had passed so fast, you'd think someone had found a fast-forward button for my life. Before I knew it, the "first day of school" had soon become "next month," and then, "next week." And now, here it was...today.
Being the semi-OCD person that I am, I stayed up until ten (an hour and a half past my normal school night bedtime--I know, I'm completely and utterly lame). I folded and re-folded my clothes for the next day. I made sure that everything I needed was packed, and packed neatly, at that. I went over the supply list my teachers had sent fifty thousand times at least.
"Excuse me," I asked someone, using my politest Teacher's Pet voice, "do you know where Portable 53 is?"
"Fuck you," he said.
My face flamed. How rude! I had half a mind to punch him in his profane little nose, but he was already gone. Stupid eighth grader. I turned around and saw a portable. I squinted at the little copper-colored numbers. 53. Aha. I knew I should have been blond.
Feeling very stupid indeed, I went into the portable. Strangely, no one was there, apart from one relatively short, skinny boy with a spectacularly messy case of brown bed head. He was doodling on the whiteboard with a squeaky orange marker.
My first instinct was to go into the nearest corner and bury my nose in a book. That was Shy Lynne thinking. Die, nerd, die, the rest of me thought brusquely.
"Eh?" said the boy, pausing in his drawing.
I hadn't realized I'd been thinking out loud. "Uh...whatcha drawing?"
"A moose," the boy replied solemnly.
"A moose?"
"Yes. A moose. Wearing a top hat and eating some walnuts," said the boy, completely deadpan.
"Interesting," I said. This guy is a freak, I thought. "Do you normally draw weird things on classroom whiteboards?"
He shrugged. "I wouldn't say normally. Whenever the mood strikes me."
A moment passed. And suddenly, he cracked up.
"The expression on your face," the boy cackled. "Priceless."
"No harm done," I said. "No doubt many people get much amusement from my face. And that sounded a lot less weird in my head."
The boy gave another hoot of laughter. "By the way, my name's Tom."
"Nice to meet you, Tom." I extended one hand, and Tom shook it. "I'm Lynne."
Believe it or not, that was not the weirdest thing to happen that day.
The classroom gradually filled up with students and the teacher actually showed up, so Tom and I each had to find our seats. My seat, unfortunately, was between the smelly kid and a gaggle of popular girls.
With a screechy microphone noise, the intercom came on for the morning announcements. "Good morning, H. J. Granger Junior High. It's a chilly 79 degrees outside, and--OH MY GOD, WHAT IS THAT THING? IT'S COMING STRAIGHT AT US!" The morning announcer lady let out a scream that a horror movie actress would be proud of, before the intercom clicked off.
Moments later, an enormous spaceship crashed through the portable wall. It was vaguely square-shaped and shiny, like a toaster that had been polished.
One of the popular girls shrieked. "Ehmagod, that space toaster killed Miranda!"
I looked toward them. It had, indeed. The girl's blond had was like a squashed pumpkin under the debris, and her scrawny, manicured hand twitched lifelessly.
My attention suddenly returned to the space toaster. With a whooshing sound, a thick cloud of smoke wafted out and a ramp set itself up. A girl walked down the ramp and put up a hand to shield her eyes.
My first impression of her was that she looked rather like a porcelain doll. Her skin was as pale as paper, making her mouth seem redder than a stripe on a candy cane. Her wide, porcelain doll eyes were green like grass, and she wore a matching ribbon to hold back her shiny black hair.
That's what I thought, that is, until the girl transformed into a hamster and back.
"ALIEN!" someone yelled.
"Finally!" I heard Tom yelled.
"Shut up, will you?" shouted the alien doll girl.
"Yes, yes. Stop the shouting with more shouting," said a strangely tinny little voice from inside the space toaster. "Blow our cover some more, you lousy pilot."
"Uh--don't worry, noisy little Earth children," the alien doll girl said, raising her palms in a sign of surrender.
"WATCH OUT!" someone hollered. "She's gonna shoot lasers from her pinkies!"
"No I'm not," the alien said irritably.
"Yes you are! I saw it on the Discovery Channel!"
"I come in peace," said the alien girl loudly.
"Didja hear that? SHE'S GONNA CHOP US INTO LITTLE PIECES! RUNNN!" The entire class, including the teacher, started to run around, screaming and bumping into furniture. Clearly delighted by the chaos, Tom started jumping up and down with a broad grin on his face. "Hey! Hey you! Alien girl! Over here!"
She looked his way.
"Hang on a sec," said Tom, fishing something out of his pocket. He pulled out a cell phone and snapped a picture of the alien, who let out a bloodcurdling screech.
"How--how DARE you, you filthy worm monkey?" The alien snatched Tom by the collar and lifted him up so she could glare into his face at eye level. "Are you INSANE, little worm monkey?"
"My name is Tom," he said, obviously trying to remain calm.
"I don't give a tiny little rat's arse what your name is," the alien girl snarled. "Are you even aware of the horrid thing you've done to me?" I realized that she, strangely, had the slightest hint of a British accent.
"Uh...no, but I'm not aware of most things," said Tom. "Please enlighten me."
"Idiot human. Taking a picture of someone steals their soul. You have stolen my soul, you mop-headed twig boy!" She let go, pushing him back with a force you wouldn't have thought possible from a porcelain doll. Tom staggered and crashed into the desk behind him, cursing colorfully.
"What a load of crap," I blurted.
The alien girl turned her green gaze on me. "Excuse me?" she said icily. I instantly regretted my words, knowing that I was probably going to die now, but I had already said them and decided to go with it.
"Cameras can't steal your soul," I said firmly, folding my arms. "No more than cats can fly."
She took one graceful, porcelain doll step towards me. "And who are you, human, to say such things?" She stared at me fiercely, daring me to say another word.
"My name is Lynne," I said, sounding a lot more confident than I felt. "And I'll thank you to stop acting like you've got a gigantic stick up your behind."
Suddenly the girl smiled, and she looked less like a porcelain doll and more like a person. "I like your spunk, human."
"It's Lynne," I corrected her.
"Whatever." She placed her delicate hands on her hips and surveyed the room. "Oh, be quiet, you bloody wounds in my ears!"
Immediately, everybody obeyed, having seen her shove Tom. They cowered quietly underneath desks and chairs.
"I'm really very sorry that I crashed through the wall," said the alien girl to me apologetically. "We ran out of gas."
Tom, who had stood up again long ago, perked up. "Gas? I've got plenty of it. Pull my finger."
"Oh, god, please no," I pleaded urgently.
"Not that kind of gas," the girl said irritably, at the same time.
"Oh," said Tom. He looked disappointed.
"Do you know of anywhere that we could get some?" the girl asked me.
"Uh...I think the teacher has gas at his desk," I said, at which point Tom started giggling madly. "You know, for science experiments and stuff."
"Thank you," said the girl. "By the way, once we get fueled up, would you like to join us on our journey? It's only fair, considering the way we interrupted your schoolday."
"Sounds like fun," I said, trying to remain casual, like I went into outer space every day. "Count me in."
"Wait!" Tom cried. "You interrupted my schoolday, too! Aren't I invited?"
"Well..." the girl began.
Tom suddenly let out a sob and fell heavily on his knees. "Please, please, please, please, plea-hea-heeeaaase! Take me! Take me away from this festering hellhole! I can't stand another day!"
"You've been here for an hour," I said, staring at him.
"Yes, and already I've gone completely mad! I was as sane as you when I walked in here!" sobbed Tom. "Just think of what'll happen in a year! I'll end up in a freakin' straitjacket." He gazed appealingly up at the girl, and I realized that, underneath all the tears and snot on his face, he was kind of cute. Completely insane, but cute.
The alien girl was unimpressed. "Nice try, but puppy dog eyes don't work on me. I'm more of a cat person, you see. But I suppose I'll let you come anyway."
Tom sprang to his feet, howling like an angry monkey. Grinning from ear to ear, he spread his arms out as if to hug me, but I shook my head. "No way. You're not coming anywhere near me. Try a tissue box first."
Taking me at my word, he walked over and actually hugged the tissue box. The alien girl turned toward her toaster of a spaceship. "Get over here!" she hollered.
Vwoom. Suddenly a glowy blue pair of eyes were staring into mine. I screamed. It screamed. It fell off of my head and onto the floor with a clunk. I saw that "it" was a little robot in the shape of a cat, made out of the same metal as the toaster, except for its eyes, which were two oval-shaped computer screens.
"Hello, butthead!" it squealed, in that same tinny voice that I'd heard before.
"I see you've met Robocat," said the girl. "Robe, go fetch the can of gas from under the desk and put it in the spaceship," she ordered.
In a flash of shiny metal, the cat zoomed there and back. "Done!"
"Now, let's get going," she said to all three of us. "We must hurry. We're behind schedule."
Chapter Two: In Which Robocat Saves the Day
"My name is Animalia," the girl told us as she settled into the pilot's chair. "You may call me Molly."
"Alrighty-roo," said Tom, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor.
"So, what's the deal with the hamster thing?" I asked her. "How come you can do that?"
"Well, I am of a certain race...I won't say its name; it is one your human vocal cords cannot accommodate."
"SCHMEERSHKIN!" Tom yelled.
Molly looked startled. "Why, yes, that's it. How did you know?"
Tom shrugged. "I dunno. I just shout the first thing that pops into my head."
"Well, anyway," Molly continued, "we are a race with the ability to change form. You humans might call us 'shape-shifters'. There are several kinds among us. One kind can change their appearances in small ways--you know, hair color and eye color and the like. That's the simplest form of transformation: everybody on Schmeersh can do it. The second kind is transformation into inanimate objects. It's very tricky, and almost no one bothers to learn it because it's so boring. The third kind, my preferred method, is animal transformation. It's a little rarer than the first. I'm the only one in my family since my great-grandmother who has been able to do it," Molly said, only sounding slightly stuck-up about it.
"You mean," said Tom, "if you wanted to turn your hair purple with green stripes, you could do it?"
Molly put her hands on her head and slowly smoothed back her hair. When she took her hands away, it was, indeed, purple with green stripes.
"Your yabbering is boring me," Robocat announced loudly. "Someone entertain me. Oh and, by the way, Molly, liftoff was successful. The Flying Toaster is now on autopilot."
"Excellent, Robocat, thank you," Molly said with a serene porcelain doll smile. She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms behind her head and putting her feet up on the dashboard.
"Wait a minute," I said. "We just went into space while you were talking to us?"
"Oh, yes," said Molly. "Some humans are awfully ridiculous about going into space, so I distracted you."
"You could have told us," Tom said crossly.
"I didn't want to take any chances," said Molly.
Suddenly the ship gave a mighty lurch. Molly tumbled out of her chair. Robocat collided with her head. I fell, quite embarrassingly, on Tom.
"Ow! What have you eaten, twenty pounds of lead?" Molly yelped.
"Your head isn't exactly a fluffy pillow, you know," Robocat grumbled.
I hastily drew back from Tom. "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it. It's not your fault," Tom assured me. "Hey, Molly!"
"Yes?" Molly said, sitting up gingerly and rubbing her head.
"What kind of ship has no seat belts and no extra seats?"
"I wasn't expecting to take two humans aboard," Molly said irritably. "Do shut up, because we're going through an asteroid belt and I need to pilot manually now."
Molly took hold of the steering wheel. As she swerved this way and that, she swore heavily in another language. I could tell by her voice that they were swears. Robocat stood up and ran around in circles, screeching at the top of his lungs. With every swerve and shake, he'd crash headfirst into the floor, then get back up and start screeching again. Tom and I exchanged glances.
"We're gonna die," said Tom.
"I know, but it doesn't sound right to say it calmly," I said.
"Okay." He leaned his head right up to my ear and yelled, "WE'RE GONNA DIE!"
I clapped a hand to it. "Better," I said, ear still ringing.
Robocat hopped with feline agility onto his master's shoulder. "Whassamatter?" he asked, peering out of the enormous Plexiglas window that made up a large portion of the cockpit.
"Asteroid belt, didn't you hear?" said Molly through gritted teeth, as she took a hard left that sent Tom's face into my lap. Robocat took the steering wheel and Tom, quite red in the face, quickly sat up, apologizing profusely.
"Are you kidding me? This is sooo easy to get out of," Robocat bragged.
"Do it, then, if you're so smart!" Molly retorted.
Robocat saluted her with one tiny paw and twiddled the steering wheel. Moments later, we were flying through clear, navy blue space, the asteroids becoming increasingly small specks behind us.
"Well, I'll be," said Tom.
"You stupid flesh bags owe me, big time," said Robocat, with a very self-satisfied smirk.
Chapter Three: In Which No One Makes a Dirty Joke
"So, where exactly are we going?"
"Are you always so nosy?" Molly asked.
"Chillax, girlfriend," said Robocat, munching on a corn dog. "Kick back. Enjoy the ride. Go with the flow, man."
"Hey, where'd you get that?" Tom asked curiously, referring to the corn dog.
"My foot," said Robocat, as if this were not only normal but obvious.
"He removes parts of himself in order to store food," Molly explained. "I've no idea why."
"Because it's cool," Robocat said, and that was that.
"To answer your question, Earthling--" Molly began.
"Lynne."
"Excuse me?"
"My name. It's Lynne. Not 'Earthling'."
"Fine, Lynne," Molly said, giving in just to get me to shut up. "Well, we're not exactly going anywhere in particular, you see. It's a sort of intergalactic road trip."
"Only not on a road," said Robocat.
"Why?" asked Tom.
"People to see, things to do," Robocat explained. He paused, obviously wondering if he had enough guts to reverse the phrases. He didn't. Tom coughed "perv!" anyway.
"Indeed," said Molly. "Anyway, the universe really is an amazing place, and Robocat and I don't intend on stopping until we've seen it all."
Robocat nodded solemnly. "Or until we run out of gas again."
"That too."
I had a feeling that there was another reason, a deeper, more reasonable one, but Molly wasn't divulging any more information, so I wasn't about to ask her. Tom, quite wisely, changed the subject.
"Where are we going first?"
Molly and Robocat exchanged glances.
"We haven't decided yet," Molly admitted.
"As unbelievable as that seems," said Robocat. Molly glared at him.
"We do have it narrowed down to three attractions in the area, though," Molly said.
"What are they?" I asked. This whole sight-seeing-in-outer-space thing was really peaking my curiosity, which was rarely peaked.
The enormous zeros that had been displayed on Robocat's pale green computer screen eyes like pupils suddenly vanished, leaving his eyes strangely blank. Then his eyes glowed blue, humming and thrumming with activity as thousands of ones and zeros scrolled across the screen and eventually turned into web pages.
"The Universe's Only Hollow Planet," Robocat said in a stiff, computery voice. "The Ultimate Duck Museum. The Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota."
"Oh, my mistake, there's only two," said Molly. "The Biggest Ball of Twine was what we came to Earth to see."
"You know, there's a Biggest Ball of Twine here in Maine," I said.
"Told you so," Robocat said, looking at Molly pointedly.
"I don't get it," said Tom. "Does the museum show ultimate ducks, or is the ultimate museum for showing ducks?"
"Good question," said Molly.
"I WANNA SEE THE DUCKS!" Robocat hooted, throwing his little arms in the air.
"The Ultimate Duck Museum it is, then," Molly said, swiveling around in her chair and beginning to program the new destination into Autopilot.
Chapter Four: In Which Robocat Entertains the Humans
It soon became very apparent that we would be sitting in the spaceship for a long, long time. Tom and I whiled away an hour or two playing Mad-Libs and giggling semihysterically about waffle irons, but that only lasted so long. We quickly grew bored.
"Are we there yet?" Tom whined.
"No," Molly said from her chair.
A moment passed.
"Are we there yet?"
"No," Molly repeated wearily.
This time he didn't even wait a minute or two. "Are we there yet?"
Molly clenched her jaw and screwed her eyes shut, grabbing her armrest in her hand and squeezing it so hard her knuckles turned white. I decided to cut her some slack.
"Yes, Tom, we're there," I said dryly.
"We are?" His dark brown eyes lit up with an insane sort of glee.
"Yes. That's why we're still moving."
He realized that I was being sarastic. "Oh," he said, painfully reminding me of a kicked puppy.
Molly, who had been breathing heavily through her nose like a bull about to charge, seemed perfectly calm now, going safely back into ice queen mode. "Robocat!" she barked.
"Yes, my Spiffiness?" Robocat yelled, snapping into a salute.
"Entertain the Earthlings," she ordered.
Robocat squealed with joy. "Oh, goody!" He turned to us like a conductor facing his orchestra and clapped his hands together, resulting in a noise like two frying pans banging together. Of all the things I would have guessed he would to, the one he actually did was the most surprising. And thus, he began to sing.
"There once was a boy of five
Who liked to play pranks on people
Then he was caught and hit with a festive doily hat
And hung from a church steeple
This is the theme song for insanity
There is no point, plot, or moral whatsoever
This is the theme song for insanity
A rather, I admit, useless endeavor
There once was a dog who could talk
And a mongoose who could talk too
They just talked and talked and talked and talked
Until their owner went insane and died, WOOH!
This is the theme song for insanity
There is no point, plot, or moral whatsoever
This is the theme song for insanity
A rather, I admit, useless endeavor
There once was a little girl
Who wanted to rule the whole planet
She was about to push the button that would begin her evil plot
When someone hit her with a frying pan...et
This is the theme song for insanity
It has no point, plot, or moral whatsoever
This is the theme song for insanity
A rather, I admit, useless endeavor"
Robocat suddenly took part in an invisible kickline, kicking left and right slowly to the beat of the music in his head. "It's the theme song, oh, the theme song, for in-saaaaan-iiiiiit-yyyy!" He broke free of the kickline and, oblivious of the screeching fingernails-on-a-chalkboard noise it made, slid forward on his knees. He struck a pose, his little metal arms open wide. "Yeah!"
"Bravo, bravo! Encore, encore!" Tom was clapping wildly, as if it were good, or something.
"Really? Encore?" Robocat looked as hopeful as a robot possibly could.
"Really? No," I said, a bit sorry to burst his bubble.
Chapter Five: In Which There is a Group Hug
"You know what's weird?" Tom asked me.
"No, what?"
"I just noticed. You're talking."
I rolled my eyes. "You just noticed?" These Lynne-doesn't-have-a-voice-box jokes were getting old.
"No, really," said Tom earnestly. "You never used to before."
"You didn't know me before," I said.
"Correction: you didn't know me. I've known you for a year at least," said Tom. "We were on the same team in sixth grade, remember?"
"No."
"That's because you hide in your own little world. If I recall correctly, you were the girl who got straight A's and complained whenever the chorus teacher made you altos do motions during our songs."
"Oh yeah," I said faintly. It was a little foggy, but I did remember.
"We're here!" Molly cried.
"Eh?" said Tom.
"Maybe you two were too busy flirting to hear," said Robocat slyly, "but master just said that we're here."
My face could not have been hotter if someone had pressed hot coals against it. "We were not flirting," I said scornfully.
"I was," said Tom.
I blinked.
"Kidding," he said, rolling his eyes. "God. Keep up, will you?"
Luckily, the space ship landed on one of the museum's many landing pads with a crash that made Molly bonk her head on the dashboard.
"Seat belts. Seriously," said Tom.
The ramp set itself up again, and Robocat zoomed out, closely followed by Tom. Taking my time, I let Molly go ahead of me and slowly stepped onto the ramp. The sight that met my eyes wasn't as amazing as I thought it would be. It looked exactly like any museum back on Earth--an enormous brown building with a little ticket kiosk in front.
Tom snickered and nudged me. "Looks like we've found the real reason Molly wanted to come here." I looked where he pointed, seeing Molly yakking it up with the ticket guy.
I could tell with one look that he was Schmeershkin, like Molly. He was handsome in the way Molly was beautiful, but there was a certain humanity to him that prevented him from looking like a porcelain doll. His red hair was a bit long for a boy's, and his eyes, which were gray like faded pavement, flickered with sarcasm. I decided that I liked this guy.
"Has hell frozen over?" Robocat remarked. "Finally. I thought I'd never get to use my ice skates."
I approached the ticket kiosk as Molly laughed a little too loudly at a joke. Leaning on her shoulder like we were the best of friends, I said, "So, who's your new boyfriend?"
Molly's wide grin became fixed. "Shut up," she said, grinding the heel of her combat boot into my poor toes. "Daemyn, this is Lynne. Lynne, this is Daemyn."
Daemyn. Animalia. What weird names, I thought. Do all Schmeershkin name their children so weirdly?
Hopping up on the counter, Robocat raised his paw for a high five. "Hey, Minnie, my man!"
Daemyn didn't 'five him.
"Oooh, burn," murmured Tom. I jumped, not knowing that he was standing behind me.
"I told you," said Daemyn, scowling down at Robocat. "My name is Daemyn." He turned to me, flashing a movie star's smile. "Pleased to meet you, Lynne." Feeling faintly giddy, I now understood how Molly must feel. "And--uh--"
"Tom," Tom supplied.
"So, um, we, uh--" began Molly, stammering.
Robocat coughed, not so discreetly, "Spit it out."
"We'd like tickets for the Ultimate Duck Museum," said Molly, knocking Robocat off the counter with just as much discretion.
"Of course you do," said Daemyn, smiling. He pressed several buttons on his cash register, and a string of tickets grew up out of a slot on the desk. He took them, tore the string into individual tickets, and handed all four to Molly.
"Thanks," Molly squeaked. Her pale face turned bright pink and she scurried off, burying her face in her hands. We hurried after her.
"Don't worry. It wasn't that bad," I said in an attempt to be comforting.
Molly lifted her head. All traces of pink were gone, her face back to perfectly smooth and white. She was the ice queen again. "I haven't the foggiest notion of what you're speaking of," she said coldly.
-------
Much to Tom's dismay, the museum did not show ultimate ducks. It did, however, have a great deal of normal duck paraphernalia, from duck artwork to hundreds of rubber duckies meant for use in the tub to an enclosure of real, live Earth ducks. Robocat squealed in delight when he saw a vendor selling duck-shaped sugar cookies and cakes.
"Can't we get some?" he pleaded. "Pleeeaaase?"
"I'm sorry, Robocat," said Molly, not looking very sorry at all, "but I don't have any money. I spent all I brought with me on the museum tickets."
Robocat turned his attention on Tom and I.
"Sorry, little dude," said Tom, indicating his empty pockets.
The poor little robot looked so sad. I couldn't have felt worse if he'd grabbed my heart with his little paws and wrung it out. I shoved my hand into my pocket and searched frantically. Nothing. I tried the other pocket. Aha! Triumphantly I pulled out a worn, bedraggled five dollar bill.
"Do you intend to buy snacks for everyone else in the museum, as well?" asked Molly, bemused.
"Huh?"
She stamped her foot impatiently. "Do you not know anything, Earth girl? Cats' whiskers, it's awfully annoying to have to explain everything. Your Earth money is worth much more on other planets such as these."
"Really?" said Tom. "I always thought it'd be the opposite."
"They are treated as rare artifacts, and they are worth hundreds of millions of Unis," Molly said. Seeing our blank looks, she added, "Universes, the official currency, acceptable on any planet that did or does exist...and a few that don't."
"In short, get me some cookies, Richie Richardson!" Robocat demanded. I bought him fifteen. He stared.
"Thank you," Robocat said weakly. "I--I love you." He dropped his precious cookies and hugged me around the knees. I felt warm and fuzzy inside, but not half as much as when Tom cried, "group hug!" and draped an arm around my shoulders.
Don't be stupid, Lynne, I instructed myself. I couldn't have a crush on Tom--he was my friend! And even if I did have a crush on him--there was no way I could tell him. It'd be too weird. No, better let my organs slowly eat themselves from the inside out and remain Tom's friend.
Tom waved at Molly with his free hand. "C'mon! Join the hug!"
"Join us," Robocat droned like a zombie.
Molly turned up her nose. "I refuse to be a part of this. Such immaturity. And in a public place!"
"Oh, don't be such a party pooper," I said, stretching an arm toward her.
Stiffening, Molly backed away. "No. It's--it's undignified," she said gravely.
Tom waved away the idea like a stinky smell. "You're hanging out with us now. Dignity's got nothing to do with it."
Grudgingly, Molly let herself be swallowed into the group hug, just as Robocat let go of my knees and started picking up his cookies.
"What a wuss," he said disparagingly of Molly, spraying pink cookie crumbs everywhere. "I can't believe you caved so easily."
Molly just glared at him.