Lavelle Prep Trainer School

Chapter 1- Lavelle Prep

     "Dude we made so much money yesterday" Orlando says as we walk into the school building. I remember the events of yesterday. Orlando and I started selling pokémon, without the teachers knowledge of course, and yesterday was the first day of sales. I catch them, because I am apparently adept at the art of pokémon catching, and Orlando trains them, because that is where Orlando excels. He is pretty good at everything. Well in my opinion, the teachers say he is lazy and needs to make an effort to do something. I think he just doesn't see the point to it all.

"It's only cuz of your training skills." I reply.

"Your pretty good yourself, Nicky boy" he rebuts.

     That's me, Nicholas. Your average hero, just kidding. I am the average teen, except I was brought into the world do a specific thing. In fact that is the reason I go to "Lavelle Prepatory Trainer's School" in the first place. I am supposed to be a pokemon trainer, but my battling skills are subpar at best. Now I am probably on my way to becoming a pokémon professor.

     "Why don't you just make something of yourself Orlando?" We have had this conversation a million times. This is how it always goes, I ask him why he doesn't do something with his life and he replies either saying "it's too much work" or "I'm okay". It just aggravates me because while he is wasting his talent, I struggle to gain some.

     We finally get to homeroom and scan the scene in front of us. A girl in our class, Gaby, is skipping around the room as her Vigaroth follows her. She is poking people and singing, "~You have Ebola la la la la la~". I glance at Orlando and he gives me a look that says, "Don't even". I snicker and go to my seat.

    In homeroom we are allowed to have our pokemon out as long as they behave. So far they have all been cooperative, besides mine. Of course my pokemon has to be the only defiant one. Every year a student gets a pokemon, unless they keep theirs from the previous year which most don't do. I got a skiddo back in 3rd grade and it has been like my best friend. Until one day in the sevength grade it stopped listening to me.

     I took out skiddo's pokéball. I held it in my hand. I rolled it around a few times, contemplating bringing him out of his pokéball. Gaby stops skipping and her vigoroth gets into a figthing stance. It bounces because, for some reason, vigoroth can't keep its energy contained and probably cannot wait until first period for pokémon battle practice. "Don't worry, I am not sending skiddo out." I reassure her but feel bad for saying it. I really did want to go back to the times of skiddo and I.