Losing Control, a jimmy neutron fanfic

I was writing the next chapter for The Unwelcome Houseguest, and this one-shot suddenly popped into my head and would not leave me alone. I let myself become distracted, and I just had to write this down before I lost it. I will say that some of the events in this one-shot aren't 100% probable, but give them a chance and let yourself enjoy the experience of reading just to read. Hold those critical thoughts until after you finish.

She closed the door, gently pushing it until she heard a faint click. Her bed waited for her in the small bedroom to take comfort in. Its gleaming white sheets and fresh-smelling scent beckoned her to lie down. She obeyed and collapsed onto the comfortable mattress face first, its wooden framework bending slightly under her weight. With her face buried in her pillow, her hands lay limply at her sides. She tried to clear her mind; she tried to picture nothing, but picturing nothing was still picturing something.

Eventually she flipped onto her back. Her face had begun to throb from her stiff pillow, and she was tired of feeling pain. She wished more than anything that she could completely drain herself of emotion. She used to be so good at letting things slide before, but she knew she'd no longer be able to go back to that. Something inside of her had snapped. She was sick of everyone dumping their problems on her. No one ever thought about what she felt. No one ever thought that maybe she had her own problems. No one ever thought that maybe she also had a life she was trying to live. More often than not, Libby felt like she was no more than an item, not a living person.

Being best friends with Cindy was not easy. Cindy was loud, aggressive, competitive, envious, and, at times, angry. It surprised a lot of people that they were as close as they were. Libby tried to explain how their friendship worked, but lately, she'd been questioning it herself. How did it work? Cindy had a lot she dealt with on a regular basis. Her parents expected perfection from her. Her mother was difficult to impress and even live with, while her father's presence was one Cindy so adamantly desired. To top it all off, Cindy was in love, but she wouldn't admit it. She had such an odd relationship with Jimmy, but it was clear she cared. It was hard for Libby to watch all of this batter Cindy down, but it was even harder for her to share Cindy's burden.

Most people forgot that Libby had a brain. Perhaps it was her calm, cool, and collective nature that gave people the false impression that she didn't care about her academic studies. No one ever noticed that her grades were above average. There were even times where her grades could rival Cindy's, but Cindy was loud, aggressive, competitive, envious, and, at times, angry. She was noticed; Libby was pushed off to the side. Cindy was awarded; Libby was ignored. How did this friendship work again?

It was Libby. She carried the brunt of the weight on her shoulders. So many times she had wanted to blow up like Cindy did. Some situations and circumstances had overwhelmed her, but she never blew up. She kept it in, and, when she deemed it appropriate, she released it. She never yelled, back talked, or mocked people to release her anger. She'd find something to do, something to use that anger or frustration in a productive rather than destructive manner. She'd create music, write and think through her problems in a journal, or exercise vigorously. Libby never blew up.

School hadn't been going as well as Libby had hoped. She was in ninth grade now, and being fifteen wasn't easy. People around her were continually pestering her about her relationship with Sheen, and she learned it proved best to avoid these conversations. She really liked Sheen, and he did make her happy, but she didn't like the whole "in a relationship" status people were trying to place on the two. She wanted to be free. Just because she had a crush on Sheen didn't mean that she was forever bound to him. They hadn't even kissed or anything. Besides, Sheen was too much of a loose cannon to "settle down," and that was part of the reason why she liked him so much. They were only in ninth grade; there would be plenty of time for dating and the like later.

If dealing with annoying peers wasn't enough, Libby was having difficulties with her best friend. This was primarily the reason as to why ninth grade was proving to be difficult. It was clear to see that Cindy was torn between her geeky friends and the popular kids. Libby had found that she was comfortable enough with herself to accept that her best friends were nerds, but Cindy had always had trouble with it. The main reason she had stuck around was because of Jimmy, and, in turn, she had helped Libby become friends with the trio. Cindy's friendships with the three boys ranged from mild acquaintances to pure rivals. Libby and Jimmy were the only two reasons that Cindy stayed, but lately, these reasons were growing weaker.

One day after school, Libby and Cindy had planned to execute one of the finest sleepovers any girl could have possibly dreamed of. This sleepover had been in the planning stage for a few weeks due to the girls' conflicting schedule, but this particular Friday was free for both and was specially chosen for the blessed event to take place. Libby had run home to make the necessary preparations for Cindy's arrival. She busied herself in prepping an assortment of treats and goodies for the girls to snack on while they watched the latest action movie that had come out on DVD (chick flicks, they both agreed, just weren't their thing). Only twenty minutes before Cindy had told her best friend she'd come over, Mrs. Folfax rapped her knuckles on Libby's bedroom door to inform her there was someone on the telephone for her. Libby happily answered when she recognized Cindy's voice, but her face quickly fell as Cindy told her about an exciting last-minute invite from Britney to a Graystar concert. Cindy rashly apologized about not being able to come over, but she quickly justified it by saying that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Libby wordlessly handed the phone to her mother and sat down at her desk. She pulled out her journal and began to write.

Cindy had apologized later at school, and Libby quickly forgave her. Cindy was human, after all, and the more Libby thought about it, she probably would have gone to the concert too. She loved Graystar more than her baby boom box…but she loved her best friend a heck of a lot more. Well, Cindy had apologized, so it was now up to Libby to let it go and move on.

As the days, weeks, and even months wore on, Cindy began to grow extremely close to Britney. At first, it didn't bug Libby. Whenever Cindy began to tell Libby of something she and Britney had done, Libby would smile and laugh at the appropriate places. She listened only because their personal communication was becoming extinct, so Libby eagerly took up these opportunities, even if it meant refraining from putting in any personal input and just nodding in approval. Cindy relied on Libby less and less for her opinion and insight but more on her consent. Cindy had become a creature of attention and acceptance.

Libby turned her thoughts from the past and dwelled on the events that had transpired today. Libby had been feeling a little under the weather. She had stayed up most of last night finishing a project for her science class. Her teacher had expected the students to construct a fully automatic machine built up of simple machines to carry out whatever task the student could come up with. Libby decided to invent a machine that would untie a person's shoelaces, but it proved to be more of a challenge then she originally expected. She normally would have asked Jimmy for some advice, him being a genius and all, but he had been acting a bit strange when Cindy had started sitting with Britney at lunch a few weeks ago. She decided not to push it, thinking that she understood his change in temperament. She knew exactly how he felt, and she didn't want to open up fresh wounds. Besides, she wanted to prove that she could do this project on her own without resorting to someone else for help.

She finished the project, but it had depleted most of her energy reserves. Staying up until about four in the morning did nothing for her sleep deprived body, and the fact that the three hours she had slept were filled with nightmares about her project failing didn't help much either. She woke to find bulging black circles engraved beneath her eyes, and her face wore a permanent frown. She tried to apply as much makeup as she possibly could to rid herself of the circles, but they continued to show through, forcing her to admit defeat. She grabbed her project and schoolbag and left for school without even a word to her parents or brother before leaving.

After missing the bus, she walked the few blocks to school, lugging her project on her back the whole way. When she reached the school, she trudged up the stairs to the main entrance and almost dropped it once she reached the top. She regained her balance and proceeded towards the door. At that moment, Cindy walked by, took one look at Libby, and turned to face Britney. Both girls giggled.

Libby stopped dead in her tracks. She was in no mood to be mocked today, especially not by Cindy. Cindy immediately covered her mouth, but her laughter had already given her away. Libby grumbled some incoherent words as Cindy and Britney shifted to the side of the double doors, allowing Libby barely enough room to shuffle inside with her project hanging onto her back for dear life. After a few more excruciating and very painful minutes, she reached her classroom and threw her project onto her desk. She heard a few cracks as the machine landed with a soft thud on the scratched and severely dented wooden surface, but she didn't care. She just wanted a grade for the stupid thing. Once it performed its duty, she was chucking it straight into the trash can.

Her teacher, Mrs. Strong, walked around the room, examining each student's work under her hawk-like gaze. Libby also glanced around the room. A large grin appeared on her face as she realized that hers was the prettiest and best constructed out of the rest of the science projects. Some kids had used tape to try and put their machines together. One kid had used a bright green crayon to label different parts of the machine, his writing slanting more and more the higher the label was on the machine. Another kid had even attempted to use knives to keep the project together. That kid's project was confiscated, and Mrs. Strong asked to see him after class.

One by one, the kids went up to the front of the class to present their projects. Several machines miraculously worked, while others weren't as fortunate. Libby smiled again as Mrs. Strong called her name. She strutted up to the front of the classroom and allowed the kids a few minutes to gaze and admire her handy work. Libby had always been really good with projects that were hands on, and this project proved just that. She activated the machine and let it go from there.

Things started off normal. The pulleys were all in working order, and the wedge was functioning properly. Even the stubborn wheel and axle moved the marble like it was supposed to. But things suddenly took a turn for the worst when the string at the end wouldn't break. Libby nervously chuckled as the string recoiled a few times, begging to be properly broken. The marble that was supposed to break it simply bounced off of it, and the string cried out as if realizing it hadn't fulfilled its role. Libby bowed her head in shame as the shoelace on her old tennis shoe remained tied. She scooped her project up in both arms and sat down at her desk. No one said a word as a tense silence permeated the air in the room. Finally, after an awkward and pitiful minute later, Mrs. Strong called the next kid up to the front of the class, and Libby buried her face in her hands.

The bell rang, and Libby ran out of the room and chucked her project in the trash. It turned out that staying up until four in the morning hadn't done her any good at all. She was certain she'd be docked point, and to top it all off, she was so tired. She rushed off to her next class, wiping her eyes all the way as tears threatened to spatter all over the ground.

Once she'd reached history, she plopped herself down in her seat and whipped out her history textbook. The ancient book was almost as large as the desk, and she propped it up to cover her face from her oncoming fellow peers. Luck was with her as the students sat down like normal and carried on conversations about summer plans and other things that ninth grade students found fascinating. Mr. Bockholt soon ended all discussion and launched into a typical history lecture, losing most of his students' interest before a meager ten minutes had passed.

Libby intently tried to listen. She took notes and nodded whenever Mr. Bockholt would pause for dramatic effect. She wanted to do anything to take her mind off of the blasted machine. Libby shook her head and laughed unknowingly when Mr. Bockholt made a remark about a student thinking that Ultralord was one of the founding fathers of the country. She immediately wished she hadn't because everyone turned to look her way. A kid whispered that it was her boyfriend who had said it, and the kids started to laugh. Some rudely pointed their fingers while others giggled with the kids closest to them. Mr. Bockholt raised an eyebrow, but he continued on with his lecture. Kids around her continued to giggle, and one kid held up a picture of a crude sketch of Ultralord. Libby moaned and looked to her notes, refusing to look up the rest of the class period.

Lunch time finally came, and Libby bolted towards the cafeteria. She rushed to get in line, accidentally shoving Butch out of the way. He raised a fist to threaten her, but a lunch lady was eyeing the pair. Instead, he shook her hand, gripping it so hard she thought her bones might break. He faked a smile and walked away, saying that he'd see her later. She rubbed her injured hand and picked up a tray of food with the other. She sat down at a large, round circular table and waited for the boys to show up.

Carl was the first to arrive, and he took the seat to Libby's right. He gave a kind hello, and Libby gave a small smile in return. He tried to make small talk, but after a few minutes, he realized his efforts were futile. Libby's gaze was transfixed on a girl surrounded by a large group of kids, all of them paying rapt attention to the blonde in the middle. Carl shrugged and busied himself in devouring his homemade lunch, and Libby sighed as she took a bite out of the cardboard-tasting pizza.

Sheen was the next to show up, and he took the seat at Libby's left. He ranted on and on about the latest Ultralord episode when Libby asked him politely to stop. He gave her both a questioning and hurt look, but he respected her wishes and began separating the different food groups on his tray, preparing them for an epic food battle.

Jimmy was the last to show up. Libby couldn't help but notice bags under his eyes. She asked him what he had stayed up inventing, but Jimmy evaded the question and asked her if she'd talked to Cindy lately. She sighed as once again her thoughts drifted towards her best friend. She shook her head, and Jimmy ran a shaking hand through his hair. He excused himself from the table, and left his vulnerable lunch on the table. Sheen and Carl glanced at each other, the same thought flitting across their all-too-eager eyes. They both lunged for the food, and Libby hurriedly pushed her chair away from the table. She grabbed her bag and went after Jimmy.

He had already exited the cafeteria and was heading towards the library. She reached him before he could enter the enclosed space, and she flipped him around to face her. There was no mistaking the pain in his eyes, and she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. She eventually coaxed him into telling her what the matter was. All he could mutter was one word: Cindy. She had already guessed that was what had been bugging him, and she confided that she was worried about her best friend as well. She urged him to follow her back into the cafeteria where she promised they would talk with Cindy and, if necessary, slap her until she came to her senses.

Jimmy was beginning to cheer up a bit once they'd reached the cafeteria, but the smile on his face instantly vanished when his eyes stopped on a pair of kids kissing in the courtyard just outside of the cafeteria. His hands balled up into fists, and his eyes grew noticeably moist. He suddenly told Libby that he needed to finish an assignment before his history class and ran off before she could say another word. Libby just shook her head. Cindy was shamelessly kissing Nick Dean, and a group of students were crowding around to goggle at them. They eventually broke the kiss, and Nick wrapped Cindy in a bear hug. She looked up into his eyes and batted her eyelashes. Libby thought she was going to throw up. She turned around and headed straight for the bathroom.

She locked herself in a cramped stall and nearly collapsed onto the toilet. The only reason she didn't was because of the visible grime and filth that covered the seat. She burped as acidic vomit threatened to spill from her mouth like lava from a volcano. She unlocked the door and flung herself in front of the mirror, turning the faucet on and splashing some water on her face to keep her from passing out. This was it. This was too much. Cindy had crossed the line, and Libby wasn't going to put up with this.

She left the bathroom in such a hurry that she forgot about her bag. She headed back towards the cafeteria and found Cindy and Nick still intimately embracing each other, this time in the center of the cafeteria for all to see. Cindy's public display of affection was bordering desperate. She approached Cindy from behind and tapped her roughly on the shoulder. Cindy let go of Nick and rubbed her shoulder as she turned around to yell at the idiot who had ruthlessly poked her. Upon realizing it was only Libby, she rolled her eyes and told her she was busy. Keeping her anger in check, Libby politely asked to talk to Cindy alone for a few minutes. Nick butted in, wrapping a protective arm around Cindy's shoulder, and told Libby that he wanted to hear what she had to say. Libby sighed and asked Cindy again to step outside with her for a moment. Cindy folded her arms and refused to budge. Libby couldn't take it anymore. She blew up.

She screamed so loud that she was sure the teachers on the second floor could hear her. Everyone stopped what they were doing to face the source of the commotion in the center of the cafeteria. Libby let all of her feelings out right then and there. She told Cindy that she couldn't stand the way she had thoughtlessly dumped her friends like they were broken toys, that she was blind and had broken a boy's heart, and that she had ruined their friendship.

If Cindy wasn't acting like a total idiot, she might have been slightly proud of Libby for standing up like that to her, but her face contorted in anger and reddened even more than the reddest tomato. No one had ever seen Cindy this angry before, but no one usually stuck around long enough to witness Cindy's rage. It was surprising that Cindy didn't interrupt Libby while Libby brought up point after point. Once Libby had finished, she turned to leave. She smiled a little to herself. She had finally stuck it to Cindy. Someone had to do it, and she was glad that it had been her.

Cindy stood there, shaking as she tried to control her temper, but it was too much for her to handle. She lashed out at Libby, tackling her to the ground as their bodies collided. The two former best friends rolled around, pulling each other's hair and yelping in pain. Teachers rushed in to separate the two, and once they had been pulled off each other, they were immediately sent to the principal's office.

Cindy sat as far away as possible from Libby as they waited outside the principal's office, and Libby smirked as she watched the traitor nervously play with her ponytail. Libby knew that this was a sign that Cindy was afraid, and it gave Libby great satisfaction to know that Cindy would get in big trouble if Mrs. Vortex found out about her poor behavior.

The principal called both girls in, and they silently entered, one appearing to have won an award, while the other appearing to have been confiscated an award. The principal shook his head when realizing that these were some of the best students in his school. He was short and brief, but he promised they would be suspended if either of them were caught in a fight again. They nodded their heads to signal their comprehension and left the room, heading in opposing directions to their classes.

The rest of the day went on with Libby only being able to recall the numerous insults and jokes kids told at her expense. She soon became numb to them, but not numb enough for them not to hurt her. Her last class was English, and, thankfully, Sheen was in that class. He always knew what to say to make her laugh and blow off steam. She entered the classroom, feeling a little better just at the sight of him. She took her seat next to his and gave him a goofy grin. He didn't even seem to notice her; he was so focused on his newest Ultralord action card he had bought that he didn't even realize she had entered the room. She turned away, her throat feeling suddenly dry, and pulled out her notebook...or at least, that's what she wanted to do. She smacked her forehead when she realized she had left it in the bathroom, and leaned over to Susie to ask for a pen and paper. Susie gave her a look but eventually handed her the items she requested.

Sheen never looked her way, and at the end of class, when Libby was turning in her notes for participation points, he eagerly walked over to Ike and showed him the card. The two boys gushed over it and left the classroom without looking back. Libby sighed and headed towards the bathroom to retrieve her bag.

She entered the putrid smelling bathroom. And boys thought the girls' bathroom was clean? She laughed at the stupidity of the myth and entered the stall to find her bag lying on the floor. The door creaked open, sounding as if it was going to fall off of its hinges, but the bag was nowhere to be seen. She scoured the bathroom floors, looked in each toilet, and even checked the garbage can. Nothing. Her bag was gone. She swallowed hard a few times and calmly reasoned that heading to the lost and found would be the best course of action to take. She slowly exited the bathroom and headed towards the office, praying that her missing bag would be waiting for her there.

After passing by a few kids mimicking her fight with Cindy earlier, she entered the cramped waiting room once again and stopped to talk with the lady at the desk. The shiny nameplate on the woman's desk caught Libby's eye, and she glanced down to read the words Ms. Johnson in bold, black letters. Ms. Johnson smiled cheerfully at Libby, and the young girl smiled back a little while politely asking if a bag had been placed in the lost and found recently. Ms. Johnson cheerily asked Libby to wait a minute while she went in the back to check. Libby sat down on one of the hard chairs and waited. A few minutes went by, and Ms. Johnson suddenly emerged from the back holding her bag.

Libby gasped in horror. The beautiful brown bag that she'd received for Christmas last year had been ripped in several places. Deep blue and green stains were spotted across the bag, and the strap was completely broken. Ms. Johnson's happy demeanor faulted when she asked if this was Libby's bag. Libby nodded her head and snatched the bag from Ms. Johnson's loose grasp. She rushed out of the room and out of the school building. She ran all the way home, and even though her legs screamed in pain from the intensity of the run, she pursued onward anyway. Her front door flung open as she threw her bag on the floor and took the stairs two at a time.

Poor Libby. :(

Life is hard sometimes, and I don't think school and peer pressure is easy for anyone. I just wanted to write this and expound on Libby a little more. She's always calm and collective, but I believe she could be broken if she was pushed hard enough. Also, you've already probably noticed that there is no dialogue. This was a decision I consciously made, thinking that it would only heighten the emotional journey I wanted you as a reader to experience. I'm feeling unusually...solemn today. I promise happier writings are to come.