Outside, Trashworld Tristan led the way to the president T.R. Ash's house while Alia, Harold, and I cautiously follow along.
"Sorry, guys, I'm going to need you to pick up the pace. President Ash is a busy person. We don't want to miss the only window he has for meeting his people," Trashworld Tristan says apologetically. Like he actually apologized, which he usually never ever does.
"Uhm, it's kinda hard to walk faster while having to jump through piles of junk and who knows what. It's like an obstacle course in here," Harold says, his irritation is too obvious, but Trashworld Tristan doesn't seem to mind.
Alia and I nod in agreement, too focused on the road to even talk. I don't want to step on anything—squish!
"What in the world did I just step on?" I shriek, too afraid to even look at what was under my shoe.
"I just stepped on some mystery yellow liquid earlier!" Harold told us.
Ick.
"Yeah..." I cringe, as Alia looks too disgusted to say a word. "Let's pretend that's cooking oil."
"Ugh, I just stepped on something squishy, too!" Alia finally speaks.
Trashworld Tristan looks under our shoes. It is pink and slimy—in the more icky-gross way.
"Bubblegum!" Trashworld Tristan says in awe. "Pre-chewed! Lucky!"
Alia, Harold, and I gag.
And it gets even more disgusting.
There was an arch, under a bridge. Pre-chewed, really wet, dripping over bubblegum was surrounding us. On the floor, on the walls and even on the ceiling!
"Eew!" I complain breathlessly. "I hate the smell of pre-chewed bubblegum!"
"Doesn't T.R Ash know that the bubblegum on the ceiling could fall on our tiny nine-year-old heads?" Harold moaned.
"Apparently, he has better things to do!" Alia growls angrily, losing it.
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---
It turns out that Bubblegum Alley is not just a small alley. It's a meandering road of endless walls and ceilings of pre-chewed gum. And so we aren't just looking down and watching over where we step, we're also looking up, left, right, and anywhere else where a gum can suddenly end up on our shoes, clothes, or worse—hair! I've never been so scared in my life.
"You know, if you pinch your nose like this, you can almost never tell they're chewing gum," offers Trashworld Tristan, obviously trying his hardest to cheer us up. "It's actually pretty beautiful in here. Just look at all these colors, it's like an artist painted these walls and floor. It's like we're inside a painter's canvas."
"I passed on all of my art projects, and I know that is NOT art!" Alia complains.
"And I didn't pass any of my art projects, but I still know this is nor art!" Harold agrees.
I look at him, not even knowing what to say. I never got good grades in all my art projects either, but even I can tell this is nothing like art. I trip as I give him a sour look, knocking over Harold who is right in front of me. Harold gasps as he loses his balance and landed on—oh no, the wall.
"Aaaaaah!" Harold groans as he glares at his hand. Threads of pale blue gum lengthen as he tries to pull it away from the wall. "Noooooo!"
I clasped my mouth with my hand. "I am so, so, so sorry," I manage to say.
Better his arm than his head I think, and fail to make myself feel better.
"Wait—there's a tiny bathroom with a sink!" Alia spots about the end of the long bridge-tunnel.
Harold runs to the sink.
"Whatever you do, DON'T LOOK AT THE TOILET!" I warn, judging from what we've been through.
*
When Harold steps out of the toilet, he looks calmer—a lot calmer. I eye him from head to toe, suspiciously.
"Well? How was the bathroom? Did it have you-know-what smothered everywhere? Was there that yellow liquid spill on the floor?" I know it sounds disgusting, but I just have to know what to expect in case I need to go at some point.
"Honestly? It's actually pretty squeaky clean. Like I can literally sleep on the floor if I want to. It's probably the only clean place in this world." Harold says. "Like no one ever used it before."
This world just keeps on surprising me.
---
Finally, we reach what seems like the end of a long and tedious arch.
"WE DID IT!" Harold yells, relieved.
"I hope we see nothing like that again!" I sigh.
"It's going to be a while until I can chew gum again." Alia states, still horrified.
"Why are you still acting like newbies?" Trashworld Tristan asks as if this is our daily routine. "I take you guys here every single day after school."
"No, you pretend to eat eggs off our face every day." Harold says.
"Well, you guys are different, too!" Trashworld Tristan responds.
"What do you mean?" Alia asks.
"Well, Harold, you carry a big dictionary and wear a sweater vest and glasses every single day, kind of like Alia's outfit. (He points to Alia's blouse, checkered skirt, and leggings.) And Alia, you normally wear ripped jeans paired with a hoodie and vandalize my house every day."
"What about me?" I ask.
"I don't know, I only knew you for two days since you transferred to our school." Tristan shrugged.
I got confused by that, because in this world, I'm the newest of all the friends, but in the my original reality, I've been to my school since kindergarten, while Alia came along in first grade and Harold came along in third grade. Hmm...something's really off in this world.
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and then Add to home screen.