Ladybird: Chapter 2, Scene 1

Chapter 2

* * *

The night air blew apathetically around Randy Buehler High School, carrying with it the faint smell of suvlaki.

Libel tried to look upbeat in spite her growing confusion and trepidation. Stuffed into the bottom of her backpack was her jacket, which she drew out and placed on Nellidae’s shoulders. Nellidae held the jacket against herself, huddling within it like a cat in a blanket – or in Libel’s mind, a roach in a blanket. Libel did not question what fate brought Nellidae to her, but as the only person within a rather large radius who cared about – or knew anything about – insects, she felt responsible in a way. Nellidae was cold, confused and emotionally immature, so Libel did what was necessary as the adult (of teen age). She asked no questions of Nellidae, none yet. That could wait for now.

“There, now you’ll be warm again. It’ll also hide your back. If I had a hat, I could hide your antennae too.”

No examination, nor much of a second thought, was needed to determine that Nellidae was a mess. She had one rather obvious antennae and another missing. Her “Sanitation Officer’s” uniform was torn open by her elytra and wings, making the shirt and jacket backless. Her pants were ripped at the legs and tinged an unnatural blue. She utterly reeked (In a pleasantly buggy way, Libel thought) of the metals in her Hemolymph.

“I have a solution for that.” Nellidae said. She then reached up and seized her antennae right in the midpoint. Libel screamed, but Nellidae was too quick on the draw and ripped off the appendage before she could be stopped. The antennae spurted some insect liquids and twitched violently in Nelliade’s hand before drying up. There was silence as Libel watched the amputated object in horror. Hemolymph then flew out in a fountain from Nellidae’s forehead and the twice-disoriented girl fell to the floor, rolling about in agony, dribbling her life on the dirty ground in Libel’s favorite Miss Spider jacket.

Libel threw her handkerchief in anger.

“You idiot! Stop doing that!” She cried.

“I DIDN’T THINK IT’D HURT AS MUCH THE SECOND TIME!” Nellidae protested, before resuming her writhing.

Sighing, Libel knelt beside Nellidae, grabbed hold of her and tried to get her to relax again. Her Elytra popped open, but at least her wings weren’t beating around. They must have had quite a lot of strength to them, to be able to lift Nellidae off her feet like that. She gingerly cleaned the insect girl’s bleeding forehead with her handkerchief, which she felt would now be permanently yellow and smelling of copper. The handkerchief barely stretched out anymore. The gunk was turning viscid.

“Stay.” Libel said, holding out her hands in front of her.

“I’m not your dog!” Nellidae shouted. She then sat down, crossed her arms and waited loyally at the spot with a pouty face, periodically sticking out her tongue as though to taste the air.

“Good girl!”

Libel walked to the side wall of the school. Just a few yards away, there was a hose and a water faucet that was used on the plants, few of which remained anymore after the falling rock. She turned the faucet, took the hose. She stretched it, whistling as she returned to Nellidae’s side and casually blasted her face with water before she could muster much of a negative reaction. Nellidae yelled some protest, but the water getting in her mouth and nose prevented it from being intelligible. She fell over backwards, spitting and coughing.

Already, the copper scent was leaving. Libel smiled. She doubled back to turn up the pressure.

* * *

Libel and Nelliade occupied the bench, with Nellidae now halfway presentable.

“Doesn’t it feel breezy?” Nellidae asked. She was sporting Libel’s shorts, so that Libel had to be careful with her skirt. They were rather sporty shorts, so Nellidae did not miss her sanitation officer jeans. The miss spider jacket, green and yellow with sunflowers and a happy children’s character in the back, was far less tolerable. But she was not one to criticize kindness.

“Kind of. I’ll be okay.” Libel said. “It’s only a short bus ride back home.”

“Right.” Nellidae said. She shook her head. “So, what year is this?”

“It’s the year 2012. You’re in United Federation of Amera, in the continent of North Amera–”

“I know that. That has not changed.”

“Ah, so it still exists in your time – which is…?” Libel left the question hanging with a smile on her face, her curiosity at its peak. Now Nellidae was talking more, she figured Libel would be more curious. There was nothing to do but be honest, she gussed. After all, things could have gone far worse between them. Libel was apparently very open-minded.

“2113.” Nellidae replied.

Libel’s eyes drew wide and her mouth open. Her hands quickly went up to her cheeks. “No way!”

“In the future, the Supreme Court are a group who play sports to determine legal cases.”

“That makes so much sense.” Libel said, almost in a whisper. She stared down at the ground as though the truth of the universe had just been revealed to her. Nellidae failed to understand what was so amazing. The Supreme Court never did anything good before becoming a sports committee anyway. She also failed to understand how that anecdote made her seem credible. Why else would they be called the Supreme Court?

Then Libel snapped back around and grabbed hold of Nellidae’s shoulders, smiling quite wide. “This is amazing! So you know everything that will happen from here on out, right? You know the future!”

Nellidae frowned. The question hit her like a lantern dropping from the ceiling. She searched the repertoire of her mind for any juicy tidbits about 2012 and then came to a conclusion.

“Umm. Well. Not really?”

“Why not?” Libel asked. Thankfully her tone was more confused than accusatory.

Sighing, Nellidae confessed, “I dropped out of school before I could take very many extensive history classes.”

“That’s terrible! Why would you drop out of school?”

“Government propaganda.”

Libel paused, putting her index finger on her mouth and tipping her head aside.

“Is that how you show confusion?” Nellidae asked.

“Sometimes.” Libel replied.

“Right. Listen, where are you taking me? What am I supposed to do from now on?”

Libel made the face again. Nellidae clenched her fists. This was a dire situation for her. Thanks to Coulter, the world that was familiar to her was gone for good. Sure, it was a horrible world. But it was all she knew. Now she had nothing. None of her cards or I.D. worked, she had no money, no home, not even a decent outfit anymore. Not only that, she had apparently been cross-bred with a ladybug sometime between nude dancing through a mass grave of ionic elements atop of a meteor and playing rugby with the 13th wonder of the world atop a spoon made of sodium. Or whatever the hell the Verdite made her think she was doing at the time. Further adding to her troubles, her only recourse now was a teenage girl. A particularly friendly one, but nonetheless, not old enough to really make decisions. Did teenagers even have brains?

“Well, we’ll ask Dad when we get home. If he’s not around, we can ask Fleur.” Libel said. She smiled as though the whole world was a little game. She was completely unaware of what Nellidae was thinking – quite obviously. The insect-girl frowned and pushed her fists into her cheeks, holding up her head while she waited. She was close to slumping forward into the ground from exhaustion.

“Is your father smart?” She asked, trying to be conversational.

“He’s a doctor.” Libel replied.

Nellidae gaped. Her jaw hung for a moment. A doctor? They existed even at this archaic time? The only doctor she was aware of from back home was Annamaria Coulter. She was so smart that she was psychotic and mostly incoherent. That was the kind of smart that impressed. That was doctor-level smarts.

“Your father was smart AND sociable enough to have a child? That is amazing. He must be God around here.”

Libel smiled and giggled. “He works as a school teacher actually.”

If she still had her antennae, Nellidae would have made them droop dejectedly. “This world sucks more than mine.”