Change or Die

Lexie's PoV

When Libby and I got back to the house, everyone else was awake. This is why we took the time to climb up to my window and start putting out bags through it before sneaking in. Both of us had a chance to put our new clothes away before heading back out the window and in through the front door, where we saw something that still managed to surprise me.

Charlie had tackled Zacky to the ground moments before we opened the door, straddling him. Indy was off to the side squealing something at her about hurting people, with Bran near her somewhere looking amused at the whole situation. "Zacky!" Charlie shouted. "I got you a present!" Zacky just looked worried.

Libby and I exchanged glances, ready to run if it happened to be something alive. On the drive back, she had told me of the time when Charlie had brought Matt a present that had turned out to be a black mamba, one of the deadliest venomous snakes on the planet. Charlie produced a plastic bag from out of nowhere, rummaging in it to reveal.. squeaky toys?!

"Charlie," I said warily. "Why did you get Zacky squeaky toys?"

Charlie laughed. "I dunno," she admitted. "In case he got bored and wanted to chew on them or something. Look! They're bright and colorful!" To emphasize her last statement, she thrust her arm out towards my face and squeaked a bright green and orange bone.

Zacky looked concerned, probably for Charlie's mental health. I honestly don't know why anyone would bother worrying about her sanity at this point, but apparently some people had the spare time on their hands. Indy picked up on this somehow and scurried over to their spot on the floor, babbling at Charlie as she laughed in her face, trying to convince the deranged midget to get off of her boyfriend. Eventually, Libby wandered off, returning with Jimmy dressed in a Superman outfit. Jimmy posed dramatically in the stairwell before swooping over and plucking his psychopath off of Zacky, running away with her whilst laughing evilly. I was only concerned about what they might end up plotting together.

Libby then walked back upstairs shaking her head, presumably to find Matt. I honestly wouldn't have cared, and I didn't even care until I remembered that this left me alone with the ever so charming Brian Haner. Libby, I thought. Damn you. Damn you to hell. Brian opened his mouth, presumably to taunt me in some way, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand and walked back out the front door. I had no idea where I was going, but I would sooner walk to Zimbabwe than stay with him again.

---

About an hour later, I found myself near the local pool. I never understood why there were public swimming pools in California, but the very absurdity of them seemed to keep most people away, making them a great place to think in peace. Sitting on the edge of the water, I looked around at the tiled pathway around me, noticing a strange rock that had been kicked onto it.

How weird, I thought. For such a rock to be here. It's so... unnatural. How strange for it to have landed just so on the tile. Just so, with the solid grey layer facing up towards the dim, orange sky. Just so, with the irregular conglomerate of various pebbles and shards pressed to the tile. The plain, square white tile so plainly lacking any color, the pure white tainted only by the faint traces of dirt blown in by winds from exotic lands. Broken into even sections by faded black lines, the tile silently allows the rocks jagged underside to press into it, the weight of an entire atmosphere keeping it in place as the mass of a whole planet beneath the submissive tile spins wildly through the void of space at an unimaginable speed.

Hundreds compunded into thousands and even tens of thousands of years. All to make this one broken rock. And what was it worth? Nothing. It was just an insignificant, meaningless piece of debris sitting on the ground, neglected. Forgotten by the world. Stupid rock. I sighed. Was my life really so sad that a stupid rock made me depressed? Apparently so. I quickly reached over and pocketed the rock before heading back home. All that deep, poetic rambling about rocks took me a good few hours.