BirthdayPirate
<- Starter of choice
Yes, another Pokemon Academy fic. But this one will actually get finished. C/C are appreciated greatly, although I'll probably ignore most gripes about description. Keep in mind that I will edit the first chapter based on reviews, so don't think people just made up mistakes or something. Anyways, here it is:
My hands trembled as I fumbled with the envelope. I slipped my finger into the side, thrusting to the left and ripping it open. Inside were two plain pieces of computer paper stapled together. Holding my breath, I pulled out the double sheet and unfolded it, nearly dropping it in the process. My eyes flicked across the page, absorbing the words greedily.
Dear Mr. Hunter Olsen,
The Pokemon Academy has received your submission for acceptance. We are happy to inform you that you received a perfect 1000 on your GSTA (Global Standardized Testing and Assessment), a perfect 100 on the SABPK (Standardized Assessment of Basic Pokemon Knowledge), and, most importantly, an Advanced in Skills, Knowledge, and Intuition and an Above Average in all other areas on the RTPBS (Real-Time Pokemon Battling Simulation). In addition, your letter of recommendation from Academy alumni Professor Joseph Doe was highly positive.
Because of your obviously advanced skills, you have been accepted into the Pokemon Academy. Attached is a recommended packing list, and you should meet at the designated address and time. In addition, we request a humble fee of $200 to cover costs not paid for by our generous alumni donations.
Congratulations and see you soon,
Professor Orville Donague
I always pictured myself leaping up ecstatically at this moment. After all, I was going to be attending the most prestigious Pokemon boarding school in the world for sixth, seventh, and eight grade, and for the incredibly low price of $200. But nothing happened.
At least, not right away. Without warning, a strange bubbling began in my stomach, rising up through my throat, passed my heart, until…
“YEEEEEEEES!” I shouted, my voice echoing to the rafters. I pranced merrily to the next room, doing a jolly prospector’s dance. My eyes were squinted shut with glee, so I didn’t see which of my family members ripped the letter out of my hand, but after a few seconds of reading, I was joined by another gleeful voice. And then another. And another.
Before long, we had the Growlithe howling in the streets.
***
The huge cafeteria was a pleasing blue, but the calming effect was lost on my fluttering stomach. It was filled with a hundred students my age, all sweaty and eager to receive their Pokemon. I had left my parents behind about an hour ago, and now it was just me, the kids, and the forty or so booths scattered across the edges.
“Hunter!” I heard a shout from the left, “Hunter!”
I glanced over, and saw a boy heading for me. He was very tan, obviously Hispanic, and had short black hair spiked messily in all directions. He was short, and walked with his head in front of his neck in a way that made him look slightly hunched. He had a heavy silver chain lying over his simple blue shirt.
“Chris!” I shouted back, making my way through the crowd, “You got in, too?”
He nodded. “I managed to get okay scores on the tests and I got pretty awesome in some of the simulations. Do you know where we’re supposed to go?” His voice was not really that high-pitched, but definitely not as deep as mine.
We navigated our way to the correct line, and stood chatting for a while. Chris was one of my best friends before the Academy, and we got along great, despite our obvious differences. I always had the most A’s in school, while Chris had the most girlfriends. I was tall, he was short. But at the same time, that helped both of us. I helped him understand his homework, he helped me get a girlfriend. I was always tall enough to block and tackle anything that came near me in any sport, while he was short enough to dart around unnoticed. So I guess you could say we complimented each other.
Pretty soon we got to the front of the line, where we met a round woman with a bored face but jolly eyes behind a table. She gave us small cobalt devices. “Pokedexes,” she explained, “They also have a function similar to the one used to enlarge a Pokeball which can transform them into laptops. They will be your guide and most important tool here at the Academy. Please proceed to fill out the test at the beginning to see which starter you will receive. It will show you where to go.”
I shrugged, shouldering my way out of the line. Once in a quiet area, I flipped open the device to reveal a glossy screen. After finding the on button and pressing it, a message flashed across the screen, along with an arrow pointing to a button on the side.
“Please enlarge.”
I pressed the button, and the thing blew up to the size of a laptop, with a full-fledged keyboard. Another message scrolled across the screen, this time with a space to answer.
“Summarize your personality in one sentence, your battling style in another, your appearance in another, and your best quality in another.”
I wasn’t really sure if I wanted a Pokemon that looked like me, but I obeyed. “Kind of dorky, quite random, yet serious when it is time. Agile and speedy, with lots of blocks and tackles, and very little direct hitting. Tall, easily tanned, short brown hair, very thin. Intelligence.”
I hit the Enter key, and a new message flashed across the screen.
“Do you have any type preferences? If not, would you prefer a physical or special type?”
I typed a hasty reply, “No, either.” Short, but it would do. I tapped the key again, and there it was.
“Would you rather have a one, two, or three stage Pokemon?”
I silently hoped this wouldn’t be too long. The butterflies in my stomach had just learned how to play lacrosse. I tapped the three key, then Enter. Up popped what I hoped was the last question.
“Would you rather have a challenging Pokemon, an average Pokemon, or a strong Pokemon?”
Trying to resist the urge to ruin my new machine with a very unpleasant concoction the butterflies were brewing, I copy and pasted the third choice and hit enter again. Hey, I didn’t want to be shallow any more than the next guy, but I was fairly new, and winning matters. To my relief, a thank you message popped up, followed by a map leading me to a corner of the room.
Chris had finished his when I looked over, but his map showed a separate booth. I pointed this out, and we parted ways after casual goodbyes. And so I began the long march to my first Pokemon.
As I drew nearer to the small, inconspicuous card table in the corner, the butterflies started squeezing and pulling my stomach. Worse yet, they were reproducing. As I felt like I was going to explode from the sheer volume of squirming insects, I finally made it to the table.
The wiry woman sitting at the table handed me a Pokeball wordlessly. Obviously, these people liked to keep you in suspense, but I didn’t care. It was more fun this way. Breathing quickly, I pressed the expand button on the Pokeball. The cold plastic slid smoothly through my hand as it grew bigger, and it grew just heavy enough to be easy to throw. I smashed it to the ground, and it bounced back to me. But I only caught it subconsciously as I watched the red light protruding from it taking shape.
The light separated into two lumps, one with two short legs and arms, the other with a long snout. The scarlet light slowly faded to a blue matching my Pokedex on the top, and a creamy beige on the bottom. As the creature became solid, spiked flames protruded from its back. “Cyndaquil!” it squeaked excitedly.
I had never even thought about getting a Cyndaquil before. Heck, if you had asked me if I wanted one, I might have even said no! But at this moment, it felt so perfect, I couldn’t help but laugh airily. Resisting the urge to provide an encore of my earlier gleeful singing and dancing, if you could call it that, I picked up the little ball of fur.
“Hi, little guy,” I said playfully, “I’m gonna be your trainer now, okay?”
He seemed to be ignoring me, and a mischievous smile darted across his face as his did a sort of wriggling motion to escape my hands and drop to the floor. There he began happily running in circles around my feet.
“Does he have a name?” I asked the wispy woman.
She shook her head. “No,” she replied, “But you can name him. Oh, and you can look up data on him in your new Pokedex, if you want.”
I thanked her, scooped up the now-incredibly-dizzy Cyndaquil, and forced my way back into the crowd to find Chris. He seemed to still be at his booth, so I decided to look up Cyndaquil in my Pokedex, like the thin lady suggested. I was surprised by the huge wealth of information it gave me after I scanned him, but I just scrolled down to the general section.
“Cyndaquil were originally offered as starters during the second period, just before the introduction of the third period starters and the resurrection of the first period. Although they are now considered normal wild Pokemon, they are still popular among trainers. Cyndaquil are Fire-type, but they learn many different moves.
One of the many surprising qualities of Cyndaquil and its evolutions its ability to roll into a tight ball, and still have full control over their flame glands and sight. No one knows how they manage to change direction or even see when in this position, but they are experts at it. Because of this, they are also very speedy Pokemon.
Moves include…”
I closed the Pokedex program as it began heading into the realm of the boring. In my arms, Cyndaquil started squirming to get free, and I was afraid he might scorch me if we didn’t get out of here soon. But I still had no idea where Chris was, and I didn’t know how to find the booth he was going to in my Pokedex. Unless…
I opened up the mapping program, and said into the speakers, “Christopher Vargus.” Instantly, a map showed up, with a large red dot next to an unfamiliar booth. I worked my way through the crowd, Cyndaquil still in my arms, until I saw Chris in the distance. He seemed to still be without a Pokemon, although he was accompanied by a kid just over half his height. As I got closer, I saw that the “kid” was also pale bluish-green, with three strange yellowish raised stripes on its head, and naked. I laughed as I realized that he was really a Machop, apparently Chris’s starter.
He spotted me, and motioned for me to get into line with him. I did so, and we began talking excitedly, our Pokemon cautiously approaching each other. It turned out that he had answered questions heavily favoring an extremely physical Pokemon with three stages, and that he was happy with his starter. I wasn’t surprised at all at his choice, and he didn’t seem surprised about mine, either. “I always knew you’d get something that could roll into a ball,” he insisted, “It was either this, Sandshrew, or Phanpy.”
He also told me that the line we were in was for our schedules, which could technically be sent wirelessly to our Pokedexes, but they felt it was more “personal” this way. If by “personal,” they meant “shoved up against a whole bunch of smelly, sweaty kids,” then, yeah, it was the most personal thing I had ever experienced.
Finally, we reached the front of the line, where a flowery-smelling woman with incredibly fake looking brown hair which was pulled up over her head in a tight bun gave us our schedules. She also leaned in and whispered, “Oh, and Professor Donague would like to meet with you to discuss a few things, when you have time. Your Pokedex will show you the way…”
Chris and I exchanged wary glances. If it was just me getting called into the office, it could have been for my test scores, but both of us… I decided not to worry about it. We couldn’t be in trouble so quickly. After all, school hadn’t even started.
“Wait a minute,” said Chris, “Two periods on here just say elective! I didn’t choose anything, did you?”
I shook my head. “Maybe we’re supposed to enter it into the Pokedex?” I suggested.
He shrugged, and we both popped open our Pokedexes and typed in a quick question about electives. It turned out that we had eight electives to choose from, but only two of them were recommended for sixth graders. We both figured that it would be best to take the recommended ones, so we entered in our choices, and our new schedules popped onto the screen. To our surprise, they were exactly the same.
All the classes sounded interesting, and I would have stopped to look up more information on them, but first we had our meeting with the principal. Chris didn’t seem quite as nervous as I was, since he had been through this before, but I had never really gotten trouble. Chris quietly showed me the map to the principal’s office, and we set off through a hallway on the left.
The halls were the same creamy color as Cyndaquil’s fur, while the floor was a lush green carpet that reminded me of grass. The air was quiet and thin, and it seemed to be hard to breathe, although I’m sure it was just the nerves. We followed the simple instructions on the Pokedex until we arrived at a large oak door marked “Professor Orville L. Donague.”
Before I could do anything, Chris knocked nonchalantly on the door. A booming voice from within called out, “Come in!”
The door slid open with a creak, and we entered a small office decorated exactly the same as the hallway, but with desks and tables lining the walls. Sitting behind the desk in the middle of the room was a middle-aged man with a trimmed mustache. He looked rather stiff, but he had the energy and vigor of a retired Pokemon trainer. “Ah,” he said, “Please sit. Ms. L’Art will be joining us shortly.”
I didn’t dare convey my confusion to Chris, but simply sat in one of the comfortable, poofy chairs across from Professor Donague. He said nothing, just smiled at us as we sat there. The tension was about to reach a breaking point when another knock arrived on the door. At Professor Donague’s, signal, the person walked in.
It was a girl about the same height as me, but with the same skin tone as Chris. She had a warm face and soft eyes, and her bright red hair would have looked unusual on anyone, but even more so on a person of her ethnicity. “Hello,” she said cordially and then turned to us, “I’m Scarlett.”
I nodded my head and introduced myself, as did Chris. She sat herself in the chair next to Chris, and he shifted uncomfortably. At least we knew we weren’t in trouble, since she wouldn’t have been so polite if she was acting as a witness or something.
“You are probably wondering why you are here,” began Professor Donague, “And you have probably notice that you have all of your classes together, along with a certain boy named Kid Jackson.”
We had actually not noticed that Scarlett and Kid were in all of our classes, but we nodded anyway. “You three have been chosen, based on many factors,” he continued, “To… ‘watch over’ Kid.”
I saw the visible confusion on Chris’s face, although Scarlett didn’t let on. “Let me explain,” he said, “You see, Kid, like so many others, has a problem called autism.”
I knew exactly what he was talking about, as Scarlett obviously did. Chris seemed to know the general gist. “When we accepted him for his exceptional battling skills,” he elaborated, “We foresaw certain problems among him and other students. Therefore, we set forth to find a way to keep him company and safe. We decided you three would be best for this job, for many reasons I will not disclose. You may be wondering what exactly this will entail. Well, it won’t be too much of a hassle for you; all you must do is include him in group projects, maybe help him a little when he is confused. There is no need to baby-sit him or anything like that, just… befriend him. Is this agreeable?”
Chris shrugged, and Scarlett and I nodded decisively. He seemed ready to dismiss us, so we didn’t ask any questions. “You may leave,” he said, the tension gone from his voice, “Your Pokedexes will show you to your dormitories. Oh, and, Hunter? Congratulations on your two perfect scores.”
I thanked him smugly then, walked out the door, Chris and Scarlett trailing behind. We walked in silence together until we were a distance away from the door, then stopped and leaned against the wall. “That was weird,” joked Chris.
“I kind of expected something like that when I saw I had so many kids in all of my classes,” said Scarlett as if she had known us forever.
“Yeah,” I added, “I kind of knew something was up. It doesn’t really sound hard at all, it’ll just be sort of… odd, I mean, working with someone who has autism.”
Scarlett shrugged, but Chris remained silent. The short conversation was obviously over, so I pulled out my Pokedex and asked it about my dormitory. A map flashed onto the screen, along with a message that said my roommate would be, as I had hoped and expected after the meeting, Chris. I showed him, and he seemed relieved. “I thought we would be bunking with that Kid kid,” he explained.
Scarlett had already pulled up the map to her dormitory, and it was on the opposite side of the school, so we left her with a quick goodbye. Once again we returned to monotonous tromp through the halls, constantly looking down at the Pokedex to assure the right direction. Finally, we arrived at an oak door much like the one to the principal’s office, but with “Dormitory 107” written across it. I hastily followed the Pokedex’s directions as it told me to swipe it across the electronic lock, and the door swung open.
The room was bigger than my one at home, although not by much. It was carpeted by carpet like the one outside, except it was cobalt, like my Pokedex. The walls were the same beige, we suited me fine. It was furnished well, with a dresser for each of us, along with a bed. Attached was a small bathroom with a shower. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was very, very good.
“I call the bed on the left!” shouted Chris, leaping on top of it. For some reason, I decided I wanted it, and started wrestling him off of it. Finally, after a long, hard battle, we decided on a compromise: since they had already brought up our bags, whoever’s stuff was in the dresser closest to it would get it. I won, and shoved him off as soon as I saw.
Since I got the bed, Chris got the first shower, and I swear he took a long time on purpose. In the meantime, I called out Cyndaquil, who had been automatically recalled when I went into the halls before. He looked dizzy still, as if he had been running around in circles inside his Pokeball. I must have guessed right, since he began running circles around the room.
As I watched him, I realized that he needed a name. I sat thinking for a while, watching him spin around in circles. He finally seemed to figure out that he could twist himself into a ball and spin in circles, which just made me all the more dizzy. Suddenly, I had an idea. “Hey, Cyndaquil,” I shouted, wondering if he could even hear me when he was in a ball like that, “How do you like the name Dizzy?”
He did a weird sort of bounce in the air, and flames spurted from his back, reforming him into his normal shape. He landed on the ground, a look of repulsion on his face. I laughed at the expression, but went on to try and think of a new name. After Spin, Circle, and other such desperate names were all rejected, I finally came up with one I thought was worthy. “Twist?” I asked skeptically.
A grin spread across his face, and he happily returned to his bouncing and rolling. Twist it was. I tried entering it into my Pokedex, but it didn’t really seem to have any function for doing so, so I guessed it wasn’t that important. Even after all that, Chris was still in the shower, so I started looking up more stuff on my classes. Most of it was just stuff I had already assumed, but a couple of things interested me.
Apparently, at the start of every year each student gets a new Pokemon. Seventh and eighth grader’s Pokemon are decided based upon their teacher’s recommendations, but sixth graders have to take that weird little test. Also, all students are supposed to get a new Pokemon at the beginning of each semester. The egg sixth graders hatch during their first semester in Breeding and Grooming, the Pokemon seventh graders catch in Team Maintenance, and eighth graders… All it said about eighth graders was that it was a surprise. I guessed it was probably some thing where they turn you loose in the wilderness or assess your tests or something.
Before I could find any other features, I heard the shower turn off, and Chris came out a minute later, wrapped in a towel. I asked if he was done, and he nodded, so I went in. By the time I came out, he was sitting on his bed with Machop.
“I named him Strike!” he exclaimed upon my appearance.
“Clever,” I said sarcastically, dodging the pillow flying at my head.
We stayed up later than we should have looking at all of our classes and the things we could do. Chris found some weight-training room where he could work out with Strike until he was an eighth grader and could take the special Fight-type specific class. I found a few speed courses where Twist could work on his weird rolling routine, and we both planned on visiting the arenas open for student use.
As I finally lay in bed, ready to fall asleep, Twist curled up at my heels, I couldn’t help but think that tomorrow would definitely be a very good day.
The Pokemon Academy
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
My hands trembled as I fumbled with the envelope. I slipped my finger into the side, thrusting to the left and ripping it open. Inside were two plain pieces of computer paper stapled together. Holding my breath, I pulled out the double sheet and unfolded it, nearly dropping it in the process. My eyes flicked across the page, absorbing the words greedily.
Dear Mr. Hunter Olsen,
The Pokemon Academy has received your submission for acceptance. We are happy to inform you that you received a perfect 1000 on your GSTA (Global Standardized Testing and Assessment), a perfect 100 on the SABPK (Standardized Assessment of Basic Pokemon Knowledge), and, most importantly, an Advanced in Skills, Knowledge, and Intuition and an Above Average in all other areas on the RTPBS (Real-Time Pokemon Battling Simulation). In addition, your letter of recommendation from Academy alumni Professor Joseph Doe was highly positive.
Because of your obviously advanced skills, you have been accepted into the Pokemon Academy. Attached is a recommended packing list, and you should meet at the designated address and time. In addition, we request a humble fee of $200 to cover costs not paid for by our generous alumni donations.
Congratulations and see you soon,
Professor Orville Donague
I always pictured myself leaping up ecstatically at this moment. After all, I was going to be attending the most prestigious Pokemon boarding school in the world for sixth, seventh, and eight grade, and for the incredibly low price of $200. But nothing happened.
At least, not right away. Without warning, a strange bubbling began in my stomach, rising up through my throat, passed my heart, until…
“YEEEEEEEES!” I shouted, my voice echoing to the rafters. I pranced merrily to the next room, doing a jolly prospector’s dance. My eyes were squinted shut with glee, so I didn’t see which of my family members ripped the letter out of my hand, but after a few seconds of reading, I was joined by another gleeful voice. And then another. And another.
Before long, we had the Growlithe howling in the streets.
***
The huge cafeteria was a pleasing blue, but the calming effect was lost on my fluttering stomach. It was filled with a hundred students my age, all sweaty and eager to receive their Pokemon. I had left my parents behind about an hour ago, and now it was just me, the kids, and the forty or so booths scattered across the edges.
“Hunter!” I heard a shout from the left, “Hunter!”
I glanced over, and saw a boy heading for me. He was very tan, obviously Hispanic, and had short black hair spiked messily in all directions. He was short, and walked with his head in front of his neck in a way that made him look slightly hunched. He had a heavy silver chain lying over his simple blue shirt.
“Chris!” I shouted back, making my way through the crowd, “You got in, too?”
He nodded. “I managed to get okay scores on the tests and I got pretty awesome in some of the simulations. Do you know where we’re supposed to go?” His voice was not really that high-pitched, but definitely not as deep as mine.
We navigated our way to the correct line, and stood chatting for a while. Chris was one of my best friends before the Academy, and we got along great, despite our obvious differences. I always had the most A’s in school, while Chris had the most girlfriends. I was tall, he was short. But at the same time, that helped both of us. I helped him understand his homework, he helped me get a girlfriend. I was always tall enough to block and tackle anything that came near me in any sport, while he was short enough to dart around unnoticed. So I guess you could say we complimented each other.
Pretty soon we got to the front of the line, where we met a round woman with a bored face but jolly eyes behind a table. She gave us small cobalt devices. “Pokedexes,” she explained, “They also have a function similar to the one used to enlarge a Pokeball which can transform them into laptops. They will be your guide and most important tool here at the Academy. Please proceed to fill out the test at the beginning to see which starter you will receive. It will show you where to go.”
I shrugged, shouldering my way out of the line. Once in a quiet area, I flipped open the device to reveal a glossy screen. After finding the on button and pressing it, a message flashed across the screen, along with an arrow pointing to a button on the side.
“Please enlarge.”
I pressed the button, and the thing blew up to the size of a laptop, with a full-fledged keyboard. Another message scrolled across the screen, this time with a space to answer.
“Summarize your personality in one sentence, your battling style in another, your appearance in another, and your best quality in another.”
I wasn’t really sure if I wanted a Pokemon that looked like me, but I obeyed. “Kind of dorky, quite random, yet serious when it is time. Agile and speedy, with lots of blocks and tackles, and very little direct hitting. Tall, easily tanned, short brown hair, very thin. Intelligence.”
I hit the Enter key, and a new message flashed across the screen.
“Do you have any type preferences? If not, would you prefer a physical or special type?”
I typed a hasty reply, “No, either.” Short, but it would do. I tapped the key again, and there it was.
“Would you rather have a one, two, or three stage Pokemon?”
I silently hoped this wouldn’t be too long. The butterflies in my stomach had just learned how to play lacrosse. I tapped the three key, then Enter. Up popped what I hoped was the last question.
“Would you rather have a challenging Pokemon, an average Pokemon, or a strong Pokemon?”
Trying to resist the urge to ruin my new machine with a very unpleasant concoction the butterflies were brewing, I copy and pasted the third choice and hit enter again. Hey, I didn’t want to be shallow any more than the next guy, but I was fairly new, and winning matters. To my relief, a thank you message popped up, followed by a map leading me to a corner of the room.
Chris had finished his when I looked over, but his map showed a separate booth. I pointed this out, and we parted ways after casual goodbyes. And so I began the long march to my first Pokemon.
As I drew nearer to the small, inconspicuous card table in the corner, the butterflies started squeezing and pulling my stomach. Worse yet, they were reproducing. As I felt like I was going to explode from the sheer volume of squirming insects, I finally made it to the table.
The wiry woman sitting at the table handed me a Pokeball wordlessly. Obviously, these people liked to keep you in suspense, but I didn’t care. It was more fun this way. Breathing quickly, I pressed the expand button on the Pokeball. The cold plastic slid smoothly through my hand as it grew bigger, and it grew just heavy enough to be easy to throw. I smashed it to the ground, and it bounced back to me. But I only caught it subconsciously as I watched the red light protruding from it taking shape.
The light separated into two lumps, one with two short legs and arms, the other with a long snout. The scarlet light slowly faded to a blue matching my Pokedex on the top, and a creamy beige on the bottom. As the creature became solid, spiked flames protruded from its back. “Cyndaquil!” it squeaked excitedly.
I had never even thought about getting a Cyndaquil before. Heck, if you had asked me if I wanted one, I might have even said no! But at this moment, it felt so perfect, I couldn’t help but laugh airily. Resisting the urge to provide an encore of my earlier gleeful singing and dancing, if you could call it that, I picked up the little ball of fur.
“Hi, little guy,” I said playfully, “I’m gonna be your trainer now, okay?”
He seemed to be ignoring me, and a mischievous smile darted across his face as his did a sort of wriggling motion to escape my hands and drop to the floor. There he began happily running in circles around my feet.
“Does he have a name?” I asked the wispy woman.
She shook her head. “No,” she replied, “But you can name him. Oh, and you can look up data on him in your new Pokedex, if you want.”
I thanked her, scooped up the now-incredibly-dizzy Cyndaquil, and forced my way back into the crowd to find Chris. He seemed to still be at his booth, so I decided to look up Cyndaquil in my Pokedex, like the thin lady suggested. I was surprised by the huge wealth of information it gave me after I scanned him, but I just scrolled down to the general section.
“Cyndaquil were originally offered as starters during the second period, just before the introduction of the third period starters and the resurrection of the first period. Although they are now considered normal wild Pokemon, they are still popular among trainers. Cyndaquil are Fire-type, but they learn many different moves.
One of the many surprising qualities of Cyndaquil and its evolutions its ability to roll into a tight ball, and still have full control over their flame glands and sight. No one knows how they manage to change direction or even see when in this position, but they are experts at it. Because of this, they are also very speedy Pokemon.
Moves include…”
I closed the Pokedex program as it began heading into the realm of the boring. In my arms, Cyndaquil started squirming to get free, and I was afraid he might scorch me if we didn’t get out of here soon. But I still had no idea where Chris was, and I didn’t know how to find the booth he was going to in my Pokedex. Unless…
I opened up the mapping program, and said into the speakers, “Christopher Vargus.” Instantly, a map showed up, with a large red dot next to an unfamiliar booth. I worked my way through the crowd, Cyndaquil still in my arms, until I saw Chris in the distance. He seemed to still be without a Pokemon, although he was accompanied by a kid just over half his height. As I got closer, I saw that the “kid” was also pale bluish-green, with three strange yellowish raised stripes on its head, and naked. I laughed as I realized that he was really a Machop, apparently Chris’s starter.
He spotted me, and motioned for me to get into line with him. I did so, and we began talking excitedly, our Pokemon cautiously approaching each other. It turned out that he had answered questions heavily favoring an extremely physical Pokemon with three stages, and that he was happy with his starter. I wasn’t surprised at all at his choice, and he didn’t seem surprised about mine, either. “I always knew you’d get something that could roll into a ball,” he insisted, “It was either this, Sandshrew, or Phanpy.”
He also told me that the line we were in was for our schedules, which could technically be sent wirelessly to our Pokedexes, but they felt it was more “personal” this way. If by “personal,” they meant “shoved up against a whole bunch of smelly, sweaty kids,” then, yeah, it was the most personal thing I had ever experienced.
Finally, we reached the front of the line, where a flowery-smelling woman with incredibly fake looking brown hair which was pulled up over her head in a tight bun gave us our schedules. She also leaned in and whispered, “Oh, and Professor Donague would like to meet with you to discuss a few things, when you have time. Your Pokedex will show you the way…”
Chris and I exchanged wary glances. If it was just me getting called into the office, it could have been for my test scores, but both of us… I decided not to worry about it. We couldn’t be in trouble so quickly. After all, school hadn’t even started.
“Wait a minute,” said Chris, “Two periods on here just say elective! I didn’t choose anything, did you?”
I shook my head. “Maybe we’re supposed to enter it into the Pokedex?” I suggested.
He shrugged, and we both popped open our Pokedexes and typed in a quick question about electives. It turned out that we had eight electives to choose from, but only two of them were recommended for sixth graders. We both figured that it would be best to take the recommended ones, so we entered in our choices, and our new schedules popped onto the screen. To our surprise, they were exactly the same.
Period 1: Training – Students learn advanced techniques to train their Pokemon in specific areas. Sixth graders have a very general curriculum, with no focus on any certain areas. Taught by: Professor Hollenberry
Period 2: Team Maintenance – Students learn miscellaneous team maintenance tasks, including proper use of the PC storage system, team relationships in general, and capturing Pokemon. Taught by: Professor Ott-Bales
Periods 3 and 4: Battling Techniques – Students learn advanced battling techniques, in both theory and practical lessons. Taught by: Professor Forthwith
Period 5: Wilderness Navigation – Students learn basic wilderness survival and navigation methods to aide them on their journeys. Taught by: Professor Crispe
Period 6: Technology – Students learn basic to advanced usage of all Pokemon-related technology in regular use. Taught by: Professor Warmull
Period 7: Breeding and Grooming – First semester, students will receive a Pokemon egg that they will identify and care for. Second semester, students will learn and practice basic grooming techniques to keep their Pokemon in tip-top shape. Taught by: Professor O’ Donnel
Period 2: Team Maintenance – Students learn miscellaneous team maintenance tasks, including proper use of the PC storage system, team relationships in general, and capturing Pokemon. Taught by: Professor Ott-Bales
Periods 3 and 4: Battling Techniques – Students learn advanced battling techniques, in both theory and practical lessons. Taught by: Professor Forthwith
Period 5: Wilderness Navigation – Students learn basic wilderness survival and navigation methods to aide them on their journeys. Taught by: Professor Crispe
Period 6: Technology – Students learn basic to advanced usage of all Pokemon-related technology in regular use. Taught by: Professor Warmull
Period 7: Breeding and Grooming – First semester, students will receive a Pokemon egg that they will identify and care for. Second semester, students will learn and practice basic grooming techniques to keep their Pokemon in tip-top shape. Taught by: Professor O’ Donnel
All the classes sounded interesting, and I would have stopped to look up more information on them, but first we had our meeting with the principal. Chris didn’t seem quite as nervous as I was, since he had been through this before, but I had never really gotten trouble. Chris quietly showed me the map to the principal’s office, and we set off through a hallway on the left.
The halls were the same creamy color as Cyndaquil’s fur, while the floor was a lush green carpet that reminded me of grass. The air was quiet and thin, and it seemed to be hard to breathe, although I’m sure it was just the nerves. We followed the simple instructions on the Pokedex until we arrived at a large oak door marked “Professor Orville L. Donague.”
Before I could do anything, Chris knocked nonchalantly on the door. A booming voice from within called out, “Come in!”
The door slid open with a creak, and we entered a small office decorated exactly the same as the hallway, but with desks and tables lining the walls. Sitting behind the desk in the middle of the room was a middle-aged man with a trimmed mustache. He looked rather stiff, but he had the energy and vigor of a retired Pokemon trainer. “Ah,” he said, “Please sit. Ms. L’Art will be joining us shortly.”
I didn’t dare convey my confusion to Chris, but simply sat in one of the comfortable, poofy chairs across from Professor Donague. He said nothing, just smiled at us as we sat there. The tension was about to reach a breaking point when another knock arrived on the door. At Professor Donague’s, signal, the person walked in.
It was a girl about the same height as me, but with the same skin tone as Chris. She had a warm face and soft eyes, and her bright red hair would have looked unusual on anyone, but even more so on a person of her ethnicity. “Hello,” she said cordially and then turned to us, “I’m Scarlett.”
I nodded my head and introduced myself, as did Chris. She sat herself in the chair next to Chris, and he shifted uncomfortably. At least we knew we weren’t in trouble, since she wouldn’t have been so polite if she was acting as a witness or something.
“You are probably wondering why you are here,” began Professor Donague, “And you have probably notice that you have all of your classes together, along with a certain boy named Kid Jackson.”
We had actually not noticed that Scarlett and Kid were in all of our classes, but we nodded anyway. “You three have been chosen, based on many factors,” he continued, “To… ‘watch over’ Kid.”
I saw the visible confusion on Chris’s face, although Scarlett didn’t let on. “Let me explain,” he said, “You see, Kid, like so many others, has a problem called autism.”
I knew exactly what he was talking about, as Scarlett obviously did. Chris seemed to know the general gist. “When we accepted him for his exceptional battling skills,” he elaborated, “We foresaw certain problems among him and other students. Therefore, we set forth to find a way to keep him company and safe. We decided you three would be best for this job, for many reasons I will not disclose. You may be wondering what exactly this will entail. Well, it won’t be too much of a hassle for you; all you must do is include him in group projects, maybe help him a little when he is confused. There is no need to baby-sit him or anything like that, just… befriend him. Is this agreeable?”
Chris shrugged, and Scarlett and I nodded decisively. He seemed ready to dismiss us, so we didn’t ask any questions. “You may leave,” he said, the tension gone from his voice, “Your Pokedexes will show you to your dormitories. Oh, and, Hunter? Congratulations on your two perfect scores.”
I thanked him smugly then, walked out the door, Chris and Scarlett trailing behind. We walked in silence together until we were a distance away from the door, then stopped and leaned against the wall. “That was weird,” joked Chris.
“I kind of expected something like that when I saw I had so many kids in all of my classes,” said Scarlett as if she had known us forever.
“Yeah,” I added, “I kind of knew something was up. It doesn’t really sound hard at all, it’ll just be sort of… odd, I mean, working with someone who has autism.”
Scarlett shrugged, but Chris remained silent. The short conversation was obviously over, so I pulled out my Pokedex and asked it about my dormitory. A map flashed onto the screen, along with a message that said my roommate would be, as I had hoped and expected after the meeting, Chris. I showed him, and he seemed relieved. “I thought we would be bunking with that Kid kid,” he explained.
Scarlett had already pulled up the map to her dormitory, and it was on the opposite side of the school, so we left her with a quick goodbye. Once again we returned to monotonous tromp through the halls, constantly looking down at the Pokedex to assure the right direction. Finally, we arrived at an oak door much like the one to the principal’s office, but with “Dormitory 107” written across it. I hastily followed the Pokedex’s directions as it told me to swipe it across the electronic lock, and the door swung open.
The room was bigger than my one at home, although not by much. It was carpeted by carpet like the one outside, except it was cobalt, like my Pokedex. The walls were the same beige, we suited me fine. It was furnished well, with a dresser for each of us, along with a bed. Attached was a small bathroom with a shower. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was very, very good.
“I call the bed on the left!” shouted Chris, leaping on top of it. For some reason, I decided I wanted it, and started wrestling him off of it. Finally, after a long, hard battle, we decided on a compromise: since they had already brought up our bags, whoever’s stuff was in the dresser closest to it would get it. I won, and shoved him off as soon as I saw.
Since I got the bed, Chris got the first shower, and I swear he took a long time on purpose. In the meantime, I called out Cyndaquil, who had been automatically recalled when I went into the halls before. He looked dizzy still, as if he had been running around in circles inside his Pokeball. I must have guessed right, since he began running circles around the room.
As I watched him, I realized that he needed a name. I sat thinking for a while, watching him spin around in circles. He finally seemed to figure out that he could twist himself into a ball and spin in circles, which just made me all the more dizzy. Suddenly, I had an idea. “Hey, Cyndaquil,” I shouted, wondering if he could even hear me when he was in a ball like that, “How do you like the name Dizzy?”
He did a weird sort of bounce in the air, and flames spurted from his back, reforming him into his normal shape. He landed on the ground, a look of repulsion on his face. I laughed at the expression, but went on to try and think of a new name. After Spin, Circle, and other such desperate names were all rejected, I finally came up with one I thought was worthy. “Twist?” I asked skeptically.
A grin spread across his face, and he happily returned to his bouncing and rolling. Twist it was. I tried entering it into my Pokedex, but it didn’t really seem to have any function for doing so, so I guessed it wasn’t that important. Even after all that, Chris was still in the shower, so I started looking up more stuff on my classes. Most of it was just stuff I had already assumed, but a couple of things interested me.
Apparently, at the start of every year each student gets a new Pokemon. Seventh and eighth grader’s Pokemon are decided based upon their teacher’s recommendations, but sixth graders have to take that weird little test. Also, all students are supposed to get a new Pokemon at the beginning of each semester. The egg sixth graders hatch during their first semester in Breeding and Grooming, the Pokemon seventh graders catch in Team Maintenance, and eighth graders… All it said about eighth graders was that it was a surprise. I guessed it was probably some thing where they turn you loose in the wilderness or assess your tests or something.
Before I could find any other features, I heard the shower turn off, and Chris came out a minute later, wrapped in a towel. I asked if he was done, and he nodded, so I went in. By the time I came out, he was sitting on his bed with Machop.
“I named him Strike!” he exclaimed upon my appearance.
“Clever,” I said sarcastically, dodging the pillow flying at my head.
We stayed up later than we should have looking at all of our classes and the things we could do. Chris found some weight-training room where he could work out with Strike until he was an eighth grader and could take the special Fight-type specific class. I found a few speed courses where Twist could work on his weird rolling routine, and we both planned on visiting the arenas open for student use.
As I finally lay in bed, ready to fall asleep, Twist curled up at my heels, I couldn’t help but think that tomorrow would definitely be a very good day.
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I suppose you can guess what Scarlett has now...