Three Couples, Six People, Many Songs(#2)

Song # 2 - To the Moon And Back

There was something magical about swimming, something about feeling the cool liquid caress your body as you make your way across the length of a pool. Out in a lake, it was even more special, for you felt almost closer to nature.

Misty loved sneaking out of her house to the lake. The walk was a little long, three miles, but she never regretted each visit. The water was pretty clear for those days, and she treasured the peace. Not necessarily quiet, for birds and insects could be heard, but she felt at ease.

After emerging from the water, Misty quickly wrapped herself in her seashell patterned towel and sat down on the grass. Her blue eyes held a strange inner peace that one rarely saw in them. Drying herself off, she allowed her mind to wander. She strongly disliked school. Not because of the classes. On the contrary, the classes themselves were the only reason she still attended school. It was the people... The teachers too sometimes. If her mother could have afforded home schooling, Misty would have pushed for it. Everyone at school watched Misty, and it disturbed her. She really was not that different from them.

Sure there was that one time Brock had dared her to spike her hair and wear it to school and she had, though it had been incredibly difficult and nearly impossible considering the length of her hair. And then there was that time she made a black, white and blood red painting of people as sheep being herded off the cliff of life... But still. Other than occasional little incidents like that, Misty did not differ all that much from the other teenagers at her school. She was a good student, got mostly As and Bs. She got in trouble every now and then like other people, for minor things. She did not always wear 'strange' clothes, only when she felt like getting a rise out of people.

So then why was it that she had heard many a rumor about herself? Why did she have to be the one they chose to gossip about? She was not a goth, or a nerd, or a prep, just one of those people in-between... Thankfully, they never made outrageous rumors about her, but the very fact that other people talked about her behind her back made Misty very uneasy. Yes she heard very little from her father. Yes her older triplet sisters were of a different father from Misty, one whom had never married their mother and had died when the three girls were only two years old. Yes their mother was often out of town, or even when she was around, did not exactly lavish attention on the girls, but so what? And yes Misty was very well know for her often cynical, sarcastic, bitter, 'die love, die' personality, but who cared? Obviously the people at her school did.

A wolf whistle sliced through Misty's thoughts and caused her to jump off her towel and clutch it over her yellow bikini clad self. "Brock!"

Her friend grinned, looking her up and down rather pointedly. "Aren't you cold?"

She scowled, throwing the towel at him and successfully causing it to drape over his head. "Turn around. Peek and you'll be singing soprano for the rest of your life."

"You're no fun." Brock's voice was muffled from the towel, but his mock hurt tone was clear.

Misty sighed, then pulled on her jeans and a long sleeved black and neon yellow t-shirt. "Why're you here?"

"Can I turn around?"

"Yes."

Brock turned around to face her and took the towel off his head, handing it back to her. "Your sisters wanted me to come tell you that dinner will be ready and six, and yes it's only five, but it takes forever to walk back."

Misty groaned. "Couldn't you have just said no?"

Brock raised his eyebrows. "Say no to such beautiful young women? Never!"

"Ugh, you're such a guy." Misty dried off her red hair a little and then hastily tied it into a ponytail. "Alright, let's head back then." For the first five minutes, they walked in silence, but then Misty spoke again. "How did my sisters get a hold of you?"

Brock blushed and then coughed. "I was...uh... just stopping by to see if you were there." He coughed again.

"Sure Brock. I believe you." Misty rolled her eyes, then wrapped her towel around her shoulders. Now that her mind was focusing on more immediate things, she felt the sharp bite of the cold air. "Have you seen Ash lately?"

Brock frowned, thinking deeply. Scratching the back of his head, he answered. "Actually, no. Where is the little wanna-be upperclassman?"

"No clue. Probably off on one of his crazy expeditions. Remember last time?"

Brock laughed and nodded. "Yeah, he wandered off for a week and turned up with pictures of some rare species or the other that he'd been tracking down."

Misty smiled. The little sophomore had managed to latch himself onto Misty and Brock when they were twelve and thirteen respectively, and he was only eleven. They made an odd little trio. Red-haired 'bitter' Misty, Spiky haired 'Don Juan' Brock, and Little "I'll grow up later" Ash.

"Can I stay over at your house for dinner?" Brock asked.

Misty thought it over. Her sisters would not really mind, plus they always made extra food so there would be leftovers... "Sure. Why though?"

Brock shrugged. "Just want to get away from home for a little while longer."

She nodded, understanding completely what he meant. Brock's family was no better off than her own, worse in many ways. More kids, and just as little parental supervision. "Just don't sue me if you die from my sisters' cooking."

"Die from their cooking? More like die from their drop dead gorgeous bodies." Brock grinned, expertly ducking Misty's punch.

"Pervert."

"You're just jealous."

"You just think with Brock Jr. too much."

"Aw, come on, I'm only male."

"Unfortunately."

"You know you love me."

Misty rolled her eyes, then looked at the playful grin on Brock's face. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." She lightly punched him in the shoulder. "So, how's your day been?"

Trekking slowly through the forest, the two made their way back to Misty's house by six, just in time for dinner. They carried on light conversation that often faded at times, but they did not care. The presence of a friend was more than enough.

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