Disclaimers: I do not own Pokémon; it is owned and created by Satoshi Tajiri and he has the authorization and copyrights to Pokémon and I do not know him personally. Other companies like Nintendo, Game Freak, 4Kids WB and etc. have also authorization and rights to this Animé and I have no contact with them or whatsoever. This fan fiction does not collect money, does not earn money, and the author is not being paid for it. So please do not sue.
Author's Note: Pikachu is not OLD!!! If you saw the episode Pika-huna, there was a surfing Pikachu. And it says in that story that the Pikachu was twenty-something years old. So I think a few years wouldn't make Pikachu old. After all, Ash got him when he was still young.
And another age matters: In this fic, the 4 main characters: Brock, Misty, Tracey and Ash are all in the same age.
Our heroes are high-school students here! No Pokémon badges, no training and the Pikachu and pokémon powers are used only when theire masters want them too. Think of them as an additional kingdom to our Animal Kingdom. The Plant Kingdom, the Animal Kingdom and the Pokémon Kingdom are the kingdoms…and other existing kingdoms like the bacteria and germs and other stuff. I want this fic to be a like a high-school life with a bit of cartoon-ish in it, but of course, I'm trying out to be a little more realistic to the high-school part of life. So basically, this thing takes place in real life, not Johto, Kanto, Cinnabar Island or Whirl Islands or Orange Islands (in other words, Real Life, Real Dimension)…but there are Pokémon, as I have already explained…
In my old school (I won't tell you where it is) our high-school students are seniors and they are 16-years-old. That's because we don't have eighth-grade in my old school. Few schools have seventh, but usually we only have sixth then onto high school. But I won't tell you where my old school is…(this is not a joke or a made up part. It is true! I'm not making this school-thing up.) So I'm following my school code and making Ash and the gang 16 but all in their senior years…
"I don't want go to the dance!" Ash said.
"Ow!" Brock Slate (?) hit his head on his locker shelf. This sixteen-year-old senior scratched his head.
"'Sup, Brock?" Tracey Sketchit asked from behind him.
"Hit my head on my shelf while looking for my English homework," Brock said.
Tracey looked around. "Where's Ash?"
Brock shook his head. "He called to me to say he'd be late. He did not work on his Science project and now he's at home working on it." Brock saw a junior girl with wavy dark green hair and pretty smile walk by. "Hi, miss. My name is Brock and you can call me anything you wish. For you, I'd prefer to call you 'love'."
The girl looked at Brock strangely. But then she giggled. "Aren't you a senior?"
"Sure am, miss!" Brock gave her a smile.
Then the girl instantly stepped back from Brock. "You're the guy who entered the girls' bathroom two weeks ago!" She laughed, and so did Tracey.
Brock's shoulders sagged as the junior girl walked away, laughing out loud. Brock felt humiliated. It was true. "Well, it was a mistake! Some joker removed the sign plates on the third floor!" But it was no use. "Oh no…I'd never get a date this way!"
"You never get a date, period." Tracey looked at him with a big, goofy grin on his face.
"Thanks for pointing that out."
"No problem." Tracey grinned.
Later, about thirty-minutes after classes started, Ash Ketchum raced towards his English class. The door flew open. "I'm sorry. I know I'm late."
"Well, Mr. Ketchum, thank you for admitting that you're late, but the whole class can see that," Mr. Sanchez said. "And so can I. So please, just take your seat."
Ash sat beside Tracey during Friday's English period. "Did you finish your project?"
"No. I think I'll get an F," Ash said from the corner of his mouth.
"But you've gotten about 2 Fs already for this week! Aren't you worried about your grades?" Tracey whispered.
Ash just shrugged it off, but he was worried. He tried making up for his F in Geography, but the teacher said that if there was a grade that is worse than F, that would be his grade. He tried really hard, but his head just can't crack Geography and he was behind Science. Science was good, but he was off-track because of his Geography failures.
"Well, this is one time in school when I don't have to worry about failing," Ash said proudly when he crashed on Misty Waterflower, one of the most popular girls in school.
"Nice going, Ketchum." Misty glared at him. Her brand-new sky-blue shirt was stained with barbecue sauce and milk was all over it. As the best swimmer in the girls' swim team, best gymnast, head of the yearbook committee, head of the party committee and editor-in-chief of the school paper, she is definitely one of the most popular girls in school. She maintained a good A+ average. People said she's really nice, but she's a time bomb too. She'll explode and yell at you when you least expect it from her. She looks calm on the outside, but sometimes she's fuming in the inside.
"Sorry." Ash grinned at her weakly as he offered her some napkins.
Misty walked past him with an angry look on her face. "You're paying for the dry cleaners!" she yelled.
Ash looked at his mangled lunch, and trashed it. His stomach grumbled, but he had no money left. Plus he stained someone's shirt. He spotted Brock and Tracey on their usual table. "Hey."
"Where's your lunch?"
"I crashed right onto Misty Waterflower." Ash groaned.
"You didn't!" Brock spluttered.
"I did," Ash said.
"Did she get mad at you? If she didn't can you tell her to hook me up with Whitney Goldberg?"
Ash raised his brows. "Get a clue, moron, I crashed right onto her! My lunch was all over her shirt, and I even have to pay for the dry cleaners! So don't got your hopes up on meeting Whitney, the cheerleading captain."
"Brock has very little chance of going out with a girl," Tracey piped in, "Just this morning a junior just laughed at him because of his accident. So how can Whitney the captain even look at you?"
"Shut up." Brock said with a sad face.
Ash looked at Tracey, who plainly said, "Well, it's true, isn't it?"
Gary Oak, Ash's rival since they were in 3rd grade, walked towards their table. "Hey, Ash, guess what? I just got a date," Gary bragged.
"Who's the girl who pitied you?" Ash said with a smug grin on his face.
He looked directly at Brock, and said, "Whitney Goldberg."
"Poor girl." Ash shook his head.
Gary fumed. "Well, at least I got a date with one of the most popular girls in school!"
"Tell her to bring magazines because you're going to bore her out," Ash said.
Gary gave as a look as if he wanted to strangle Ash. But he had that look on his face all the time whenever Ash answers back with annoying replies. "I saw you spill something on Misty Waterflower's clothes. Idiot."
"Well, she was way too snobby anyway! Fussing over a shirt…" Ash turned away, annoyed by Misty's rudeness.
"Wake up, moron! That shirt was from France! Can't you tell a designer shirt when you see one?" Gary shook his head.
"Sorry, I have more important things in my mind that minding what shirts girls wear," Ash said. He stabbed Brock's milk cartoon with Tracey's unused fork. He grinned at Gary.
"I didn't know you had a brain, Ash. I guess brains are sold in shops these days," Gary said and walked away. Whitney caught up with him and they linked arms out of the cafeteria. Half of the boys stared at Gary, whispering: "How did that new kid get Whitney to date him? Waterflower and Goldberg are the pickiest girls in school!" or "That kid is so lucky…" and more.
Ash gave Misty the money for the dry cleaners, totally emptying his allowance. And his mother had a two-week allowance policy. What am I going to do when I turn eighteen? Ash thought. His mother gives him money to last even more than two weeks, but he gets a new one every two weeks. But he had been spending so much money on new shoes (I got this shoe-addiction from my 'uncle' who had practically 2 new pairs of shoes every week) like what the NBA players wore. They were expensive, and it emptied Ash's allowance and he still had a week to go!
"Thanks." Misty gave him a bleak smile, then walked away. She stopped. "Next time, look where you're going." She said in an irritated tone.
Ash fumed. "I won't forget!" He shouted.
Tracey approached Ash. "Gave her the money?"
"Yeah. And she charged me twice the price because she shirt is a designer shirt from Paris," Ash said with a scowl.
"Tracey! Ash! I just got a flyer!" Brock said, running towards them. They all walked outside and started walking towards home. Ash and Brock live on the same block while Tracey lives 3 blocks away. But they were all on the same path. "I just got this flyer from Richie. He and Rudy were assigned to plaster these flyers and slide them through the lockers. It's for the annual Denver Glade High Homecoming Dance."
Ash crumpled the flyer. "So what? Like I want to come anyway. I'd rather play with Pikachu and figure out a way to last a week with ten cents as allowance."
Tracey took the crumpled paper from Ash. He smoothened it. "That's okay. You need fifteen dollars for the tickets anyway, so even if you want to, you're out of cash."
Brock went starry-eyed. "I can see it now…girls dancing with me…"
"Dream on," Tracey said with a smirk. "After that junior-girl incident, I don't think even an eighth-grader would be willing to go out with you."
"Nasty, nasty…" Brock said. "They're just shy! Why can't they admit that they totally admire Brock the Wonder Guy?"
Ash shook his head. He took off his cap and shoved it in Brock's mouth. He didn't want to hear anything about it. First, he got an F, second, he crashed onto Misty and had to pay her double for her shirt, third, Gary just rubbed on his face that he got a date with Whitney Goldberg, fourth, he's sure that his mother would bug him to come to the dance.
The sky darkened as the clouds began to cover the sunlight. There was rumbling of thunder and small flashes of lighting. It was clear that it would rain. Ash and Brock ran off while Tracey took his turn towards his house. The rain began to pour, and Ash's bag began to split. His books tumbled out of his bag, and half of them landing on a puddle. At least it's Friday, he thought.
"Hi, Mom," Ash greeted.
"Ash Ketchum! You're soaked!" She said as she ran towards the bathroom to get some towels. "You could get sick. And you wouldn't be able to go to the dance."
Ash looked surprised. "How did you know about that?"
"Apparently you have the flyer stuck on your shoe."
Ash looked at his left shoe sole. There it was, the evidence of the school dance. "But Mom, I'm broke. I just paid for the dry cleaning bill of a girl because I stained her Parisian designer shirt by accident. And I just bought a new pair of shoes two days ago."
Delia Ketchum frowned. "Ash! Stop being a shoe fanatic."
"Can't help it," Ash said. "And the tickets for the stupid dance is fifteen dollars."
"Well, I'll advance you on your allowance. But your shoe collecting has got to stop at least for a month. Learn to control your shoe buying, Ash. And you buy expensive ones too!" Delia said.
"I don't have to go to the dance!" Ash complained. "I don't want to go to the dance. Pikachu and I are just going to stay here and play games. I'd rather sleep than dance."
Delia frowned again. "What? And miss all that fun?"
"There's no way I'm going," Ash said.
Saved by the phone, Ash zipped away upstairs. Then his own phone line rang.
It was Tracey. "I know you're going to flip when you hear this bro, but you have to go to the dance."
"Make me," Ash said stubbornly.
"No! I just heard from Richie that Mrs. Carlton said that she'd give extra-credit to all the students in her Science class if they showed up in the dance. She says it is a form of Science too. Socializing and stuff," Tracey said. "Of course, that's what you get from a retired psychologist."
Ash's brows shot up. "Really?" Then his heart dropped. "But I don't have anything to do there. I know you're going to get a date, but I won't hang around and watch Brock humiliate himself there."
"Bash Brock Day, huh?" Tracey joked. "Well, you need the credit. Just hit the food table until the dance is over."
"I can't eat all night!" Ash retorted.
"Eat an F then," Tracey taunted. He heard his father calling and said, "Gotta go. Bye." He hung up.
Ash covered his face with his palms. "Can't I just do a fifty-page report or something?" Pikachu climbed up to him.
"Pika-pipi-pika-pikachu," Pikachu said. (You can't even finish a ten-item Math homework, and you want a fifty-page report?)
"Lay off, Pikachu," Ash said irritably.
"Pika-pika-chu," Pikachu retorted. (Suit yourself.)
Pikachu's right. I need that credit, but I don't want to go to the dance. And who knows what will happen there? Gary's going to shove Whitney up on my nose all night, Tracey will find a date—somehow, and Brock will probably go there and be an idiot. But Brock might get a date…somehow, Ash thought.
Okay! Got that first chapter done. Not much of a good humor, but soon to come. After all, humor does not come in boxes you can order over the net, so I'm working on it. I'm not really good at funny stuff, but I'm trying my best.
Anyway, this is probably going to be an 8-chapter story, so keep checking back!!! Hope y'all liked it.