If You Think I'm Gonna Come Up With A Title For This, You're Dead Wrong

Chapter 16

You are going to kill him.

"That is absolute fucking horseshit!" You pace back and forth in front of the restaurant. "His ass was the one who invited me!"

You can practically hear his eyes rolling on the other end of the line. "How is it my problem if he flaked?"

"You're guilty by association!" You cross your arms. "It's a favor to you! How is it not at least partially your fault?"

"Because he said he'd be there."

You hang up on him. You have been standing here for half an hour, and only now do you hear that he can't be there because of something about a movie. While, under different circumstances, you would be relatively understanding, standing outside in a dress in November is making you a bit less amiable.

You sit down on the step, letting your hair down and leaning forward on your knees. 'What a waste of a perfectly good twilight.'

You pull out your phone. It's your father's birthday back home, ironically enough. You smile bitterly. He and your mother told you when you were younger you wouldn't be allowed to date until you were eighteen— something about them being worried about you getting in a bad situation— and here you were, flouting their rules, sitting alone on the steps of a restaurant with just enough money for food. 'Does this count as disrespectful?'

Nobody online has said anything about it. No messages hoping he rests in peace, nothing from extended family.

You set the phone down at your side, quietly watching people walk by. You had your cast taken off today. The people at the hospital gave you some sort of weird juice, and now you can walk around with only the occasional ringing in your ears and half-decent handwriting. 'Not that my handwriting was that great before,' you muse. 'Maybe I'll finally be able to sit in a car without wanting to jump out.'

"Something got you down?"

There is a thing you have noticed about people's voices thus far that, until now, you have not thought about in detail; people do not sound exactly like their voice actors back in your world. For example, Donatello does not sound like Rob Paulsen, but the way he shapes his words, the tone of his voice, and the general pitch is relatively similar. He sounds like a teenage boy who happens to talk like his character, and it is by this you have been able to identify voices.

Oddly enough, she sounds nothing like Kelly Hi.

Your blood goes cold. "Yeah," you sigh, desperately keeping your voice steady. "My date bailed on me."

Karai sits down next to you on the steps, looking out with you. "That sucks." She chuckled. "Why's that?"

"No clue." 'Why is she trying this?' You rest your head on your knees, hands clenching and thoughts going a mile a minute. 'I'm not made by the Kraang, and the guys shouldn't have messed with her anyways, so she shouldn't have my— but I did kill— but she doesn't care about that, and neither does Shredder.'

"Well," she sighed, "that's teenagers for you." She points back at the restaurant. "Can I get you something? My treat."

You swallow thickly. "Sure." Your hands are shaking despite your best efforts. You hope you do not look as completely terrified as you feel. "But I can pay for my own food."

"Are you alright there?"

'Sadist.' You nod.

"Are you sure?" She chuckles. "You've gone pale."

You scramble for a plausible excuse. "I've been fasting." That is not a good example of an excuse. "I need to start getting more iron in my diet."

"I'm sure some food inside will have iron in it." The smile on her face— she is not a good liar herself— tells you all you need to know, all venom and quiet pleasure. You seem to shrink next to her.