Author's notes: Not many reviews…
Needless to say, I'm disappointed. Oh, well.
I know I said Thanksgiving-ish, but I got REALLY busy with my school play. And the lack of reviews didn't help much.
Anyway, read-on, and I hope this chapter-on doesn't get "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun"-ish.
I just used "-ish" twice. Ew. That bugs me.
Later that night, Buttercup found herself knocking at Blossom's door.
"Come in," her sister replied in a sweet voice. "Oh, it's you," she snapped, her voice instantly turning nasty. "What do you want?"
Buttercup leaned against the door. "I just wanted to thank you," she said smugly.
"For what?" the redhead replied, confused.
The raven-haired teen grinned. "Well, when you made Elmer and me dance, Senorita Riviera saw and decided to give us the solo in the show."
Blossom shock her head violently, trying to comprehend that her sister was once again better than her at something. "But… but you sucked!" she replied, lying hastily in a failed attempt to cover her jealousy.
Not even flinching, Buttercup winked and walked out of the room, bumping into Bubbles.
"Oops, sorry," Buttercup whispered, sincerely apologetic.
"Buttercup: 2, Blossom: zip," Bubbles commented as she walked away.
The costumes came in a month later, two weeks before the show. The group was to pay for the costumes when they were delivered. Buttercup, who still needed fifty-something dollars, was forced to reveal her secret to someone because she needed to borrow some money. So she told Bubbles, who was due to find out anyway.
"That's fantastic!" Bubbles exclaimed when Buttercup told her. "Seriously, with your coordination, you must be fantastic at it. Sure, I'll lend you the money. I sold a few extra paintings last month- that painting of the taxi in the rain was so popular I had to make six copies of it. Well, I'll be at the dress rehearsal tomorrow to see you dance, so I'll see how you 'bust a move' then!"
It was a comfortable dress, and she knew how easy it would be to dance in it and feel as if she wasn't wearing anything. The corset and ribbon sleeves had been different to figure out, but the gossipy girls in their black dresses helped her as they whispered about the show, the costumes, and, to her dismay, the chemistry between herself and Elmer. She overheard a girl whispering about her dress and how beautiful it was. And Buttercup knew it was pretty, but she wasn't used to wearing anything really pretty like that. She hadn't looked in the mirror yet; she was too afraid of what she'd see.
She felt pretty. And although she knew that she'd been dressing better and getting her act together, she felt uncomfortable. Blossom and Bubbles were the pretty ones. Not her. She was the tomboy, the tough one. Could tough be pretty?
Digging up some long-lost courage from somewhere, she exited the gym, where the girls were getting changed. Walking towards the girl's bathroom, she felt someone gently grab her arm. Spinning around (it felt so nice to feel her skirt flair out around her), she knew who it was before she turned around. Grinning, she stood on tiptoe to kiss Elmer on the nose.
"Why, hello, there," she greeted with a wink.
Elmer stuttered, trying to figure out how to describe the feeling to her. "W-wow, y-you look-"
"Save it for the stage, Romeo."
Then she kissed him again, only to be hollered at by her Spanish teacher. "Buttercup, Elmer- what did I tell you about exhibiciones públicas del afecto?"
Elmer was confused. "Wha-"
"-Okay, we'll keep the PDA down," Buttercup cut in, saving her boyfriend.
"Oh," he mouthed, and they hurried off to practice.
"You were beautiful," Bubbles exclaimed in the car on the way back. "Seriously. I think you've found your niche. But when can we tell everyone?"
Buttercup pondered for a moment before answering, "I'm not sure. I guess I want them at the show… Well, Blossom already knows. Then it's just-"
Bubbles put a hand on her sister's shoulder. "They won't be disappointed. I'm sure of it."
Elmer, who had been silently driving the whole time, pulled into the mall's parking lot for Bubbles, who needed to pick up a few unsold paintings.
"Where were we again?" he inquired of his girlfriend, who was sitting in the front seat next to him.
"I think I know," she whispered, before unbuckling and kissing him.
Her plan was to make out until Bubbles came back, but about two minutes later, she was interrupted by a sharp knock on the window.
"Oh, dear God!" she hissed at no one in particular.
Turning around, she faced the professor. Sighing, she opened up the door. "Umm, hi, Professor I-"
"-am grounded for the next month, young lady," he stated as he yanked her out of the Corsica by her arm.
He was furious, and she couldn't blame him. He counted on her to be the stable one; the one who wouldn't fall in love, wouldn't be anything other than tough and… a five-year-old.
And she was sick of it. She was done. She would find a way to be in that show if it killed her.
Little did she know, it would.
Author's notes: Shorter chapter than usual, I know. One more chapter, though, I think- maybe two. Next update by September, hopefully, and if so, this story will be done by Thanksgiving, because I don't have a desire to be working on it for more than two years.