Through bamboo doors, I’m hit with the scent of chlorine and cheap whiskey and events I thought I’d left far behind come rushing up to me like a Rapidash in heat. Cerulean’s Gym again.
"Always wondered when you’d drunkenly stumble back into my gym." Misty.
"I’m not drunk."
"Don’t get your pokepanties in a vice. I’m just bein’ friendly," she says as she pulls out a long Virgina Slim. "Hows that Pikachu you used to beat my Starmie?"
"I told you, pokebriefs are unisex— never mind. Scarlet and I split.”
"That so?" she says as she takes a long puff with obvious pleasure. She exhales with a smoky "Pity."
"You think you can just walk back into my gym after what you did?"
"I was so young, Remy. And you waltzed in here with your worldly cool and your electric pokemon and destroyed the little girl in me. Now look at me: beating Bug Catchers for whiskey and cigarette money, covering up my wrinkles with a one-piece—”
"You’ve never looked better."
The look that passed through her eyes in that moment erased an eternity from her face. She was the teenager I loved once more, beautiful and full of life, not yet broken from the Slash I’d performed on her heart. We fell into each other and made love, right there in her gym, as her interns looked on. We didn’t care. They didn’t say anything.