Penguins of Madagascar: Moving Situations

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I try to get up – to at least attempt to defend myself – but Gale trips me. I slam hard against my desk, knocking my favourite mug off, the corner catching me in the ribs. I nearly yelp but Gale's hand clamps over my mouth as the distinct sound of footsteps outside of my room.
"Kowalski, you okay?" a voice calls. Skipper. "Something sounded like it broke." Gale uncovers my mouth, giving me a warning look.
"Everything is fine," I lie, trying to sound nonchalant when really my ribs feel like they're on fire. If I tell Skipper Gale will hurt him much worse than he is hurting me. "Just dropped something."
"Want help tidying it up?"
"No! No, I'm good," I say, thankfully sounding rather calm.
"Alright," Skipper replies. "Let me know when you start cooking." There are the sound of his footsteps fading, then silence.

"Now..." Gale muses with a terrifying smirk. "Where were we?" He cracks his knuckles, stepping towards me.

He, as usual, uses me as a punch bag but there seems to be more force and malicious intent than normal. When he is done I am certain that the bruises will be awful.
"You should have just left," he hisses at me as he leaves. "Couldn't ruin anyone's life if you did." I try to hide the fact that his words impact me but his triumphant smirk very much implies that I don't do a good job. He leaves and I quickly make sure none of the bruises are visible: they aren't but even the slightest pressure on my stomach feels extremely painful.

I head quickly to the kitchen, deciding to not be alone if Gale feels like hitting me again, letting Skipper know as I pass him. He sits at the kitchen island whilst I get the ingredients out and season the salmon.

"Are you sure you don't want some help?" Skipper asks me. "I feel bad getting you to do everything."
"I don't mind," I say. "Besides, the last week you haven't let me do anything."
"Well I suppose," he says. "But of anyone has earnt a break it's you." I don't believe him but it's nice of him to say.

                               -------------------------------

After dinner I am washing up, Skipper again keeping me company. We have been making small talk about film theories and for some reason Skipper is staring at me more than usual. I glance at him and he quickly looks away. Okay then? That's weird.
"Kowalski, do you like anyone?" he asks, the question so sudden and unexpected that I almost admit that I do and worse, who I like.
"Why?" I ask, hopefully a relatively safe answer. He seems to hesitate. "Do you?"
"Yes," he admits. I feel a wave of defeat, even though we were never together and never would be. Who does he like? Whoever it is, is really lucky. Better not be Gale though.

"Are you okay?" Skipper asks, watching me with a careful expression.
"Mhm," I say, picking up another plate and scrubbing at a difficult part to distract myself from thinking about what he said. "Who is it?"
"You won't like it..." Skipper mumbles. Gale, then? Then again Skipper doesn't know me and Gale don't exactly get along.
"It doesn't matter if I like it or not," I reply, hating how flat I sound. "You can like whoever you want. It isn't any of my business."
"Actually it is," Skipper mumbles, looking almost scared. "Maybe I should hate you...Promise you won't hate me if I tell you?" I nod, not sure how I could hate him over a crush.

"You. I like you," he says.

The plate falls out of my hands, falling into the sink with a crash. I don't bother checking if it broke. Me. Me. Skipper likes me. Me. Bookworm, pathetic me. Skipper likes me. I pinch the inside of my palms, certain I am dreaming. I am not dreaming apparently.

"Told you that you'd be annoyed," Skipper mumbles with a dejected expression and in my shock I realise I haven't said anything.
"No! No, I am not annoyed," I say. "Just...just surprised." My lack of self esteem takes a plummet. "You aren't just saying that as a joke, are you?" I am hardly going to admit my feelings if so. "Because that would be a very mean joke."
"No! Fuck no am I joking," Skipper says. "I really like you, even if I know you would never like me." Well how is this for irony?

"I do like you. Really like you," I finally admit, feeling like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders even if it is not true what he said. "I just thought you wouldn't like me having standards and all."
"You do?" Skipper says, perking up. I feel my cheeks heating up slightly at how happy he looks at what I admitted. "Kowalski! Anyone with standards would like you!" Oh embarrassed. Good embarrassed though.

"Kowalski...does both of us liking each other mean I can take you on a date?" Skipper asks eagerly. "Wait, that sounded a big like I was making it sound like you had to..." I have never seen Skipper this word scrabbled... "Um...Would you like to go on a date in a couple of days?"
"Sure?" I half agree, half question. I wish I sound more confident: how many times have I wished something like this would happen?
"We don't have to if you don't want to. You don't sound sure," Skipper points out.
"No. No I am!" I say, burying my face in my hands. I suddenly feel very embarrassed in the negative way. "I've just never been on a date..."
"Never?"
"Never," I confirm, wanting to hide behind something. I need to do this though. Things are finally going right. "But I would like to."

"If you're sure," Skipper says softly, his smile warm. "I will make this the best date you have ever been on...Oh. Yeah. I will still make it as good as can be." The silence between us becomes comfortable as Skipper begins to rapidly do something on his phone, telling me he is making date reservations.

Date reservations, Skipper liking me...This has to be a dream. But one I don't want to awaken from.