The New Ron - Chapter 45 (Patreon)

I liked roadtrips.

Not for any specific reason, I just did.

Maybe part of it was nostalgia, given my personal childhood. Ron, I remembered, liked them for an entirely different reason, and a much simpler one. Over the past few years, they'd quickly become dedicated time with his BFF where the two could hang out and chat and see interesting places together. That and brew up some interesting stories and just... have fun together.

Very much uncomplicated reasoning.

But so many of those involved flying, or sailing, or even hopping a train or two. Ever since Kim and I had gotten to the point of needing to frequently leave Middleton for another state – then, later, other countries – we'd only rarely needed an actual bus.

Jeeps, yes.

Motorcycles, yep.

Even wagons, occasionally.

But... buses? Like... one time in India that I could recall in the past year.

No, buses were for school. That's why they called them school buses, I guess.

I yawned so wide it threatened to crack my jaw as I squinted into the false dawn discoloring the horizon. Middleton high's parking lot was mostly-deserted, just a few early bird staff and teachers heading into the building. That was, deserted besides the gathering of parents and teenagers around a large charter-bus.

“Okay people,” Barkin shouted, looking around as he waved his clipboard authoritatively, “that's the last of the bags on board! Next are the people! I'm checking names off as you get on. Against my better judgment, we won't be doing assigned seating on the way to the camp. I can rectify that on the way back if anyone decides to start any shenanigans under my watch!”

I mean, yeah, of course he was looking at me when he said that.

Did I even need to say it?

“A reminder to everyone!” Barkin... barked. “This is expected to be a ten-hour drive. We'll have two thirty-minute bathroom breaks and an hour-long lunch. This is your last chance to use the ladies' room until approximately... oh-seven-hundred and thirty.”

“What's that?” One of the cheerleaders squawked.

“Seven thirty,” Barkin deadpanned, his face drooping. “Two and a half hours. So use the bathroom now if you have to.”

A few girls exchanged looks, then scampered off into the school.

I just yawned again, rubbing at my eyes tiredly.

“Late night?” Kim asked, nudging me.

“Intentionally,” I nodded, gesturing with the pillow under my left arm. “I'm planning to sleep through most of this. Rufus is already out like a light.”

“Aww... I wanted to chat!” Tara whined, slipping a hand through the gap between the pillow and my arm.

Before I could consider a response, Bonnie scoffed as she walked up. “Who are you kidding, T? You're going to be out like a light before we get out of Middleton. You always are on these trips. I have the drool stains to prove it.”

Tara flushed and pouted. “Thanks, Bonnie.”

Kim snorted and gave Tara a nudge. “Don't sweat it. Unless you're doing homework, most of the girls are pretty out of it for the trip. The only interesting parts are whatever truck stop we end up at for the breaks.”

“Anyway!” Tara cleared her throat loudly, looking at me. “Where are your parents? I thought I might get to finally meet them!”

Kim coughed politely. “Ah, Ron rode with me, actually.”

Tara drooped slightly and clicked her tongue. “Alright, I guess. It can wait until some other time. Geeze, it's just like Bonnie's mom. I barely ever see her anymore.”

Bonnie sneered. “Mom's got my sister's to take care of, at least. Ron's an only child, right? What's their excuse?”

“Bonnie!” Kim hissed, green eyes narrowed at her cheer rival. “Not cool-”

“Nah, it's okay Kim,” I waved her off and turned to Bonnie with a shrug. “They don't have one.”

Bonnie blinked, frowning at me as we held each other's gazes. There was a long pause as we stared each other down, then she sniffed and looked away.

“Alright, that sucks.”

I smacked my lips. “Yep.”

An awkward silence hung over the group.

“So...” Kim began awkwardly. “Seating arrangements?”

“Really Kim?” Bonnie asked, shaking her head.

“Uhh... I think Kim's got a point?” Tara asked, still leaning on me slightly. “Since Ron and I are dating...”

Even Bonnie pursed her lips at the social calculus Tara had just implied.

Given she and I were publicly dating, there was basically no excuse not to sit by her in the eyes of the rest of the squad. In fact, choosing not to would be cause for immediate gossip by the girls that weren't super friendly with Tara and concern for the ones that liked her. Middleton's current cheer squad wasn't the classic den of mean girl politics that most cinema made cheerleading in general out to be, but there was some low-level petty politics simmering behind the scenes.

Bonnie, to her credit, kept a tight lid on that shit.

Kim being... well, Kim helped, too. Bonnie was the only girl with the guts to challenge a globetrotting superhero valedictorian with an amazing figure. Everyone else knew that short of a complete disaster, Kim was essentially untouchable. Further, they knew that Kim did have a bad side – as rare as it was for anyone to be on her shit-list – and no one wanted to see what really pissing her off looked like.

Bonnie, again to her credit, knew that there were lines someone didn't cross.

But all of that made the situation even more complicated.

Because Bonnie and Tara were best friends.

And Kim and I were best friends.

Previously, we could have gone with that setup, if we'd wanted to. Were Tara and I not romantically-entangled, it would have been expected. Especially by those in the squad who had – until recently – thought that Kim and I just didn't want to admit our relationship for whatever reason. But now I'd be snubbing Tara for Kim, which would effectively be putting a platonic female friend in front of my girlfriend.

The vultures would begin to circle almost immediately.

Especially since, now that I was on the squad as the mascot, I was cool-adjacent enough to be dating material. And being close to Kim meant that dating me would get them into the squad captain's inner circle by default. So if someone thought there was a crack in mine and Tara's relationship, at least one of the girls would attempt to make a move on me regardless of whether they were actually interested or not.

On the other hand, though, if Tara and I did sit together, that left Kim and Bonnie bereft of easy partners to hook up with.

And while guys would just sit by themselves and enjoy the extra elbow room, the connotations were different for a girl sitting alone.

So someone would be pushed into the position of sitting next to them. Because they wouldn't sit alone and commit weekend-long social suicide. But asking someone to take either of those bullets for the team was... well, it was no small favor.

Now, listen, I loved Kim. I did. And I was a seasoned veteran of long trips with her. I had an encyclopedic knowledge of her hot buttons and knew what topics to stay away from and when I absolutely had to agree or suffer the horrible consequences. But being chased around a supervillain's lair wasn't the only reason I screamed and flailed after an eight hour flight where she'd decided I needed to listen to her monologue about the appropriateness of different colors of nail paint.

Even if I'd never tell her it to her face, Kim could be a bit much.

And, it should go without saying, that Bonnie was much the same way.

And, of course, there was the obvious solution of sticking them both in the same pair of seats, next to each other, for several hours at a time. The bus itself, to say nothing of its occupants, would be lucky to survive such a course of events.

Which is why I decided to follow Alexander's lead and take a sword to this Gordian Knot.

“We take the back row,” I stated aloud. “Kim gets the window seat, I sit next to Kim, Tara sits next to me on the other side, and Bonnie takes the other window seat.”

The girls all looked at each other, weighing the solution, then nodded slowly.

“Back of the bus, great,” Bonnie muttered.

“No one bumping the back of your seat,” I reminded her, and she blinked, pursing her lips.

“Okay, point,” Bonnie sighed, shouldering her day-bag and marching towards the bus.

“...and it's just a coincidence this puts you as far from Barkin as humanly possible,” Kim observed dryly.

“Multiple things can simultaneously be true at once,” I replied mildly, giving her a sly smirk.

Tara giggled and Kim snorted.

Then, we were off.

…

I sighed in relief as I exited the men's room, noting a few of the irritated looks I got from the long line at the girl's room who were tapping their feet or otherwise fidgeting in need for relief. One of the few good things about the gender imbalance (for me), meant I didn't have to wait in line. One of the less good things was the man who followed me out.

“Stoppable,” Mr. Barkin nodded.

“Mr. B,” I replied, a mix of mockery and deference that toed the very edge of the line.

...and, okay, the resulting glare was somewhat my fault. I'd never claimed to be entirely blameless in our mutual passive-aggressive blood-feud thing we had going on. Just that Barkin tended to radically overreact about shit. And, as it turned out, make mutually-occupied bathrooms extremely awkward.

I blinked as a thought struck me. “Hey, just curious, but shouldn't there be a female teacher on staff for a trip like this? You're basically pulling triple-duty as the driver, the disciplinarian, and the logistics guy, aren't you?”

Barkin twitched, but nodded again as we walked into the expansive truck stop we'd pulled over at for refueling, lunch, and a general rest stop.

“Sadly, Mrs. Perkins broke a leg on her latest parachuting trip and the school wasn't able to procure a replacement at the last minute,” Barkin sighed, his shoulders drooping a little.

“Ouch, on both counts,” I replied with a wince, then paused. “In a blatant and transparent attempt to try to bury the hatchet between us slightly and in a move I will probably regret making... do you want any help on the logistics side of things? I'd offer to fill in on the other two jobs, but...”

I shrugged, and he grunted in acknowledgment of the point.

I was still a few years too young to be behind the wheel, even if I was an excellent driver who hadn't received a single moving violation in two decades on the road. And the loss of that privilege was a bit grating at times. Thankfully, the occasional weirdness with missions meant I was often needed behind the wheel of something large, awkward, and imminently colliding with some kind of landmark, so I could scratch the itch that way a bit.

And me acting as a disciplinarian? Heh, the best outcome on that regard would be the girls simply ignoring me. The worst would be actively breaking rules to spite me. Besides, Kim was doing a better job riding herd on the cheer squad low-key.

“I... appreciate the offer, Stoppable,” Barkin ground out, the words almost seeming painful from the expression on his face, but he shook his head. “But no. Barring another bout of road construction, we've only got a straight shot on a state highway left. And I don't want you touching my filing system for all of the reservations and parking permits, frankly.”

“Eh, fair,” I nodded, shrugging. Who would want a teenager riffling through a carefully-organized itinerary? “I made the offer, at least.”

“That you did,” Barkin muttered, turning towards the unholy fusion cuisine that was the Bueno Nacho/Pizza Planet/Tennessee Fried Chicken.

This was a strange, strange world I lived in.

“And Stoppable?” Barkin asked, just as I was about to head over to what passed for Mexican food here. “Thanks.”

I blinked, then gave the man a final nod. Before I had time to either get my thoughts in order or place my lunch order, though, my Ronnunicator went off with its trademark chime.

“Hit me,” I replied instantly, answering the device.

“Hey Ron, how's the trip?” Wade asked as I pretended to think about the menu.

“Decent. Slept most of the way, stopped for lunch now,” I shrugged. “We got a mission?”

“Actually no,” Wade chuckled. “Basically, I just wanted you and Kim to know that I was taking my system offline for a bit.”

I blinked, a vague sense of unease filling me. “Oh?”

Wade nodded, sighing. “Yeah, ever since we got to talking about Archer, I realized that if he really is a time-traveling version of you back from the future, then he's going to know a lot of my network protocols and operating procedures. Especially since we've been discussing those things pretty heavily recently.”

I stopped, clicked my tongue, and nodded. “That... is a good point. Damn. Okay, so... what's going to happen if someone calls in with a mission?”

“Well, there are other groups out there to answer stuff. Like Team Impossible?” Wade asked, shrugging. “It's only going to be for about six or eight hours, anyway.”

“Hmm,” I rubbed at my chin, the scent of nachos distracting me. “I guess it'll be alright, then. You told Kim?”

“Yeah, she's still in line for the girl's room,” Wade snickered slightly, his preteen sense of humor acting up. “Anyway, just wanted to let you know that I was going to be down for resets, upgrades, and general system maintenance.”

“Roger that,” I nodded, the two of us signing off.

With that, I stepped up to the cashier and cracked my knuckles. “Alright, let's see... I'll have two number fives, a number three, and a number six... but swap out the salsa for some jalapeno ranch, please.”

Rufus poked his head out of my pocket. “Nwumber Tree?”

My shoulders slumped as I nodded to the small animal. “Yes, I got your order in, too. I wouldn't forget.”

The cashier blinked, frowning at me as he cocked his head. “Uhh... sir? I'm afraid rodents aren't allowed in the food court area.”

“He's an emotional support animal,” I lied like I breathed, reaching into my back pocket for a set of creatively-authorized documents Wade and I had cooked up after the first few incidents where people freaked out over Rufus. “He's also got certifications for drug-sniffing, CPR, and explosives disposal. He's literally the special forces of the animal kingdom.”

The cashier blinked at me, leaning forward to read the various laminated cards I'd put together, each featuring a small picture of Rufus on it. The naked mole rat hopped up on my shoulder and struck a pose, ham that he was.

“Huh.” He paused, then shrugged. “Alright then.”

A few moments after explaining my order more slowly later, I had my ticket in hand and was heading over to where Tara and Bonnie were sitting. “Ladies.”

Tara giggled at the faux-suave attitude, but offered me a kiss on the cheek for my trouble. Bonnie just rolled her eyes.

“So, as a newcomer to the cheer camp tradition, any tips or tricks?” I asked gamely, sipping from my oversized soda. I loved the era back before people had started trying to legislate the Big Gulps out of existence.

“Hasn't Possible told you all about it?” Bonnie asked, leaning back with a raised eyebrow.

“A bit here and there, but we haven't really had time to sit down and talk all about it,” I shrugged.

“We have been pretty busy,” Tara lamented. “Well, you went to summer camp, right? It's kind of like that.”

I shiver-twitched, my entire body briefly convulsing as Rufus jumped out of my pocket and snapped his head around with wide eyes. “Camp? Camp?!”

Tara and Bonnie jerked back, their own eyes wide as I tried to control my heart rate. “False alarm, buddy, false alarm,” I reassured Rufus, giving the guy a quick pet as he shivered and began to calm down.

“Okay, what the hell is your major malfunction?” Bonnie asked, slapping her hands down on the table as she leaned forward, glaring at me. Then blushed and sat back down as various people turned towards her, a mix of irritation and concern on their faces.

“I have summer camp related PTSD,” I explained, taking a big gulp of sugary soda to soothe my nerves. Well, the caffeine probably did the exact opposite, but the familiarity of the sensation honestly did more to alleviate stress than anything else.

“Summer camp... PTSD?” Tara asked, frowning, then snapped her fingers. “Oh, wait! Kim told me about this! To never mention... summer... camp around you.”

I still twitched slightly at the word, but nodded. “Yep.”

“Okay, so while normally I'd be nowhere near asking about anything in a dork's personal life like this, but... this has juicy gossip all over it,” Bonnie stated, sipping out of her own drink. Probably a diet soda or iced tea or something. “So, spill.”

“Not a huge amount to tell,” I stated, my knee beginning to bounce. “My parents sent me to a month-long summer camp back when I was a little kid. Place called Camp Wannaweep.”

“Camp... Wannaweep,” Bonnie replied slowly, looking at me oddly.

“That's... a name, I guess?” Tara asked, her face a complicated mix of expressions.

I rolled my eyes. “So, yeah... the name was supposed to be about how nature was so beautiful that you'd want to cry.”

Bonnie made a face, but Tara's eyebrows rose. “Okay, I guess that works. So what was so bad about it?”

“The guy in charge of the camp made me bunk with a chimpanzee,” I replied bluntly.

Bonnie blinked rapidly. “I'm sorry, what?”

Tara just appeared speechless, her mouth hanging open.

“It's why I'm afraid of monkeys,” I explained. “The dude who ran the camp was a complete psycho and basically decided that I got to stay in a cabin, alone with a monkey, for an entire month. It was an absolute living hell and I'm still super traumatized from it.”

“Why did they even have a chimpanzee at your summer camp?” Tara finally asked, looking confused and horrified.

“Animal mascot,” I replied simply.

“That... makes no fucking sense. What the hell, Stoppable?” Bonnie asked, her brows knitting. “Who keeps a live monkey as the mascot of a summer camp!?”

“Oooooh, I know that topic,” Kim stated, sliding up to the table, looking between Tara and Bonnie with a mild glare. “Who mentioned summer camp?”

“Uhh... me? Accidentally!” Tara yelped as Kim's eyes turned towards her, full of irritation and disappointment. “I forgot! I just compared cheer camp to... well, summer camp. Sorry.”

Kim sighed and put her diet soda down on the table and dropped heavily into her chair. “Okay, so where are we in the story?”

“She was asking about the head of the camp,” I replied, waving at Bonnie. “Who was this weird pirate-looking dude with an eyepatch. Total nutjob. Did weird activities and just... the entire camp was a nightmare.”

I shivered again and Tara reached out to take my hand, making me relax slightly.

“What kind of things?” Tara asked.

“Backwards Day,” I explained shortly, scowling at the memory. “That was every Thursday. You had to do everything backwards for the entire day. Wear your clothes backwards, walk backwards, try to speak backwards as much as you could... if you were caught doing things normally, you had to participate in a ten-mile backwards-day hike in the afternoon.”

“That sounds... dangerously irresponsible,” Tara muttered, while it was Bonnie's turn to stare blankly at me.

“Basically the guy's entire thing, from what Ron's said,” Kim explained with a grimace. “Well, that and the newspaper clippings about his trial for child endangerment and embezzlement.”

“Well shit,” Bonnie spat, shaking her head in disbelief. “And I thought two weeks alone with my sisters every summer was hell.”

“Order Number 95!”

“Pretty much, but thankfully that guy's at least still in the psych ward,” I relaxed, standing. “Now that's my food. I'll be right back. Kim, pick a topic that involves anything that's not my past trauma, please.”

“Cheeze!” Rufus cheered, scampering up on my shoulder again.

“Cheese indeed, buddy,” I nodded.

~~~

Foreshadowing is a literary device that-

Oh, right... uh, hope you enjoyed the chapter? Yeah, that's what I meant to say! Anyway, it should be obvious what the next arc is going to cover for anyone who's seen the first couple of Kim Possible episodes.

It's time to confront Camp Wannaweep in all of its horror.

Some of the stuff about Wannaweep here will be my own additions ala the New Ron-verse, but I'll be keeping all of the canon stuff as well. If you want to know which is which, the episode is available on youtube, I'm pretty sure.

New update will be The Hand We're Dealt. Probably, at least.