Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The blaring of my alarm makes what was already supposed to be a shitty sleep even worse. Not even growling as I cover my head with my pillow dulls the persistent beeping. Damn fucking thing! I swear I will destroy you one of these days. But that day is not today, especially if doing so would only give Mom an excuse to take me out shopping for a new one, a fate I dare not tempt.

So that leaves me here in limbo, lying in bed, struggling to debate with myself about which insufferable situation is more unpleasant. With each successive beep, the sounds slowly bleed into one another, forming a single constant noise. Eventually, that noise distorts, twisting into a taunting laugh. One hauntingly similar to those I have heard countless times before. Feeling my heart racing, I lift my arm to gently slam my hand down onto the alarm.

Current enemy dealt with, I take a shaky breath and throw off my covers, moving to stand… only to immediately tumble to the floor as my foot slips on the pile of empty energy drink cans littering my floor.

Cans crunch beneath the weight of my face impacting the floor, while others are tossed into the air, causing a cacophony of tinking sounds as they land back down. One even manages to land directly on my head. I growl once more in annoyance, pushing myself up to my feet, and flick my tail to shove a section of the thin metal coffins into the corner of my dim room.

Thankfully, Mom didn't sneak into my room this time and open my blackout blinds; otherwise I would be ten planes sideways blinded for the rest of the day. Thinking about it now, that doesn't sound so bad. I wouldn’t have to deal with looking at Melissa’s disgusting preppy attire anymore. 

I mean seriously! How do you intentionally dress like the equivalent of a snobbish nark? Or maybe I could just use the excuse to take advantage of the government’s subsidies for chronic late night rage baiting on Peruvian knitting forums. Raptor Jesus knows how easy it is to pull the wool over on those corrupt bastards.

Trudging across my room, I rummage through the closet and pull out my usual attire. A nauseating scent of fresh citrus assaults my nose, indicating their recently washed state. Even if I was the one who did it, I wish we would buy something less noticeable. I hate walking around smelling like a Girl Scout cherry pop.

Handling the fabric, I am reminded of the one too many earfuls I got from my parents and friends that have convinced me enough to at least be somewhat presentable when I go to leave now. That may be a completely different story from how I treat my room, but goddammit this is my sanctuary where I don’t have to give a raptor’s ass about people’s thoughts and opinions… not that I do that, anyway. All those judging pricks can suck it.

Changing out of my pajamas, I slip on my long-sleeved black-and-white striped off shoulder strap top, and cover it with an oversized U-neck charcoal shirt and mismatched high-denim plum shorts. The resulting effect gives off a not-caring vibe, while also preserving a level of ‘fuck off’. Perfect.

Feeling rather pleased with myself, I step before my full-body mirror set up in the corner of my room. Realizing I had almost forgotten the most important piece, I quickly put up my hair into a pair of twin pigtails and strike a pose with my hands on my hips.

Now that my eyes have adjusted to the lack of light in the room, I clearly make out the reflection staring back at me. And to be honest? It leaves a lot to be desired. Thin-framed and lacking any sort of curve to indicate me as a ‘proper’ girl by today’s standards, the lackluster image is a true representation of who I am. Only a single thought comes to the forefront of my mind to summarize what I see.

Man, you look pathetic.

Shaking my head, I free myself from the dreary thought and force a crooked smirk onto my snout. “Nah, you look great. You just have too high of standards for yourself. Can’t please them all…”

A deafening silence blankets my room, allowing me to fully comprehend the revolting words that just came from my mouth as I cringe hard. Holy fuck. Do people actually talk like this to themselves? If so, they are in need of a serious reality check. I don’t know how Amber talked me into trying this. That was stupidly naive of me. Half the shit that comes out of that birdbrain’s beak is utter garbage.

Although… I can’t be too mad. She is one of the few people that I find tolerable, a friend even, amongst a handful of others. The rest can eat shit and die for all I care.

Whether it was coming to recognize that I may not be completely alone in all of this, or from imagining a dozen different ways to see my haters get what’s coming to them, a satisfied smile creeps along my lips. Huh, not bad. But enough goading myself. I need to save my energy if I'm going to survive another day in that godforsaken place called school.

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A tear-jerking yawn escapes me as I scratch the plates between my shoulder blades and make my way down the stairs towards the kitchen. Not even halfway there, I can already hear the soul-crushing sound of another one of Mom’s anime openings playing through the speakers. I briefly consider turning back around right then and there, and locking myself up in my room. Calling in sick might not be such a bad idea after all. However, against my better judgement, my feet keep carrying me forward.

Reaching the main floor and rounding the corner, I am met with the unsavory sight of Mom cheerfully dancing next to the stove as she hums along to the song. She is relatively young-looking for her age. It’s probably thanks to her wearing the classic ‘my son is the MC, so I’m going to die early’ look any sane parent should avoid. She even has her hair tied up with a single scrunchie over her shoulder. I open my mouth to call her out for her hypocrisy to know better, but snap it shut, accepting that will only lead to another endless tide of conversation with her about her hobby.

Despite fully knowing that the look is merely a trope in garbage choices of anime… I give a silent prayer to whatever God may be listening. I swear if she kicks the bucket by some fluke accident, I’m going to kick her ass, and then I’m coming for you next!

Taking a deep breath, I shuffle around the island and pull out one chair that I need to actually climb up onto due to my lack of height. Just another wonderful thing to blame my mother for. I narrow a glare at the back of her head, only for her to glance over her shoulder at that second with a sickeningly beaming smile.

“Ah! Goodness, Cynthia. I didn’t realize you were already up. Perfect timing. I’m just about done with breakfast.” She looks back to flip the scrambled eggs sizzling on the pan, continuing without skipping a beat. “How was your sleep last night? You went to bed awfully late. You know doctors say that a teenager your age should be getting at least eight hours of sleep.”

I groan, resting my chin on the cool countertop. “As shitty as the night before, no thanks to nearly pulling an all-nighter. Those damn online gooners really have some retarded opinions. Unfortunately, it’s up to me to put them in their places.”

Mom’s smile falters, barely perceptible, though returns to normal as she turns around and slides a fully loaded plate of food before me. “Don't let them get to you too much, Starlight. Sometimes it’s better to just leave people be and let them like what they like.”

I nearly gag at hearing her cutesy pet name for me. So instead of acknowledging it, I begrudgingly nod and move on from the subject, pulling the plate towards me and digging in. Mom lingers across the island, hands clasping before her as her snout works to say something else.

I eye her expectantly. “What? Is there a reason you’re staring at me?”

“N-Not particularly. I just…” She wrings her hands. And just when I think she will continue, she turns away again to prepare the next plate of food.

I click my tongue, looking down. A flare of disappointment fills my gut, leaving little room for the steaming food. Of course she can’t speak her mind properly, just like always. I’ll never understand how someone like her managed to secure such a foofy life without a shred of confrontation in her. Aside from looking like some anorexic version of her, I find it hard to believe we are actually related.

That pondering is swiftly dismissed as the sound of heavy footsteps echoing down the staircase becomes louder, eventually revealing a hulking form from the same place I had appeared minutes ago. Ducking his head to avoid hitting a lowered piece of the doorway, Dad enters the kitchen, his broad shoulders barely contained within his light brown suit.

There are plenty of saurian species that have larger sizes, but none of them compare to a full-blooded megalodon like him. It’s easy to say that most people who first see him get easily frightened, and honestly, it is pretty fucking hilarious to watch. I’ve even seen someone piss their pants once when they cut us in line, only to see who they did it to. However, once they realize he is more of the ‘gentle giant’ type, they tend to relax… most of the time.

Before I know it, my tail begins to swish across the polished floor while my plates clack together, betraying my attempts to pretend I didn’t notice him. And despite my best efforts, our eyes meet for a moment, causing him to grin. I shrink, knowing the pitiful jig is up, yet he says nothing. 

Instead, he wordlessly strokes his thin beard and strides over to Mom, bending over and pulling her into an affectionate kiss. Welp, so much for breakfast. Whatever I did manage to get down is definitely coming back up on the way to school.

Apparently, I gave off a visible cue of this reaction as Dad breaks off the kiss and walks over to me next, leaving Mom swooning with her tail wrapping around her leg and gushing over the kiss. He rounds the island and places his massive hands on my shoulders. Although I can feel their weight pressing me down, there is also a gentleness to them. One of practiced restraint. I give no resistance as he bends over and plants a kiss on my cheek.

“Good morning to you too, my Little Star. I overheard that you didn’t get a good night's sleep. Want to tell me about it?”

I hunch over. “M-Morning… Dad. Don’t worry. It’s nothing I can't handle.”

He chuckles. “Even so, your mother is right. It’s important to consider your health. I don’t want to hear you’re getting sick, or worse, just because you lose track of time with your… pastime.”

There is an edge to his voice, though more out of concern than disappointment. So annoying. Him and Mom both… yet I can’t help but feel abashed as he scolds me. “...I’ll try to get more sleep…” My voice is a whisper as I look away, pouting.

“Thank you,” he says, lifting his hands off my shoulders, only to rest an elbow on top of my head. “Because otherwise I doubt you’d grow any bigger. I could hardly see you this morning. Walking in, I thought I saw a string bean sitting here that had escaped your mother’s cutting board.”

A flush of irritation consumes me as I swipe at his arm. He backs away laughing, eyes keen as he watches me jump from my chair and stomp up to him. “I told you not to call me that! It’s not my fault I didn't get any of your height. All I got stuck with was Mom’s stupid genetics. I never asked to be the size that I am!”

Though meant as a reasonable retort in my eyes, I knew immediately that I had hit a nerve as Dad’s lighthearted expression morphs into a stone-cold one. His violet eyes pierce my scales through his prescription aviator rose gold glasses, freezing my heart.

He steps forward, making me flinch. “Cynthia… you know it is out of our control what cards you were dealt, especially when it comes to interspecies mixing. But that is the miracle of bringing children into the world. There is no one to blame for it. You should be grateful for what you get, because it makes you unique. Understand?”

I sheepishly nod. “I know that. But…” My tongue feels heavy now. I can never seem to look him in the eye when he’s angry with me. Of the few whose judgment and approval I care for, his is at the top.

Dad sighs, patting my head lovingly. “It’s alright, I get it. But I would ask that you not talk like that from now on. Also, I think you owe your mother an apology. What you said was very hurtful towards her, no?”

Swallowing my pride, I turn around to see that Mom is now the one watching me expectantly. She isn’t smiling, but isn’t frowning either. It’s almost like she is doing everything in her power not to show any emotion. Seeing it makes me wish she would yell at me, scold me, or even punish me. At least then she wouldn’t seem so puppet-like.

Before I could open my mouth to speak, however, Dad’s watch goes off, a distressing sound for the house as it means to call him away. Case in point, he immediately curses under his breath, then, with a swiftness odd for his size, maneuvers through the kitchen to take a handful of the breakfast Mom had prepared for him and scarfs it down in a single bite.

“You’re cooking is as amazing as always, dear,” he says, rushing towards the front door to put on his shoes.

I jog after him, tail coiling around my leg. “Wait!” He pauses, looking over his shoulder, one shoe already done. “Are you going to be home late again?”

He bites his lip. “Afraid so. I promise I’ll try to be home as soon as I can, though.” An empty promise. One he has made time and time again.

My shoulders sag at hearing his answer, prompting him to finish tying his remaining shoe and stand. “It’s not what I want either, Cynthia. But right now there has been an unexpected increase in cases at the firm, ones that need our best lawyers on them.” He continues more softly, a whisper under his breath. “You’d think people would be more accepting after all this time...”

Dad puffs out his chest with pride. “How about this? Once I get home tonight, we’ll play that game you’ve been so interested in together. Deal?”

My tail thrashes behind me, eyes widening. “You promise?!” Maybe there is a little hope after all. I’ve been trying to get him to play with me for weeks now.

He smiles. “You know it, my Little Star.” His arms open wide. “How about a goodbye hug to seal the deal?” I stare at him blankly for a moment.

Fuck! He got me. The sly bastard.

I feign a grimace, but know my plates are turning a bright shade of pink in embarrassment. Stupid traitors making it impossible to lie when I'm like this. Dad continues to wait with his arms held out, each second breaking down my poorly built barriers. Eventually, I crack and move to hug him back.

“That’s my girl,” he says, pouring all he is into the embrace. It is here that I can become completely relaxed. Within his strong arms, it is the one place I feel truly safe. My ‘sanctuary’ of a room is but a shadow in comparison. A fake in an attempt to fill in for the original.

Facade abandoned, I try to hold on to him for as long as I can, but our hug ends too soon as he releases me and pulls back. Next to me, Mom appears holding a bag lunch and a box of eye drops.

“Chet, Honey. Don’t forget these again. You may be a busy man, but you need to eat properly too. And I don’t want to see you come home looking like you just cried your heart out.”

He pats himself down overdramatically, touching every part of his body to put on an obvious show. “My word! You’re absolutely right! What would I ever do without you?”

“Starve to death is what, you big oaf. Don’t go making me worried for no reason, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am~” Dad replies, sweeping Mom off her feet so that she is sitting on his forearm. The size difference is ridiculous. It’s like she really is a puppet compared to him. Mom, of course, giggles all the while until their lips meet for another passionate farewell kiss.

Yup. Goodbye breakfast. It was kinda nice having you in my stomach while it lasted.

Dad sets Mom down carefully and waves to us as he pulls open the door, letting it shut with a click behind him. Sensing my own need to get going or else I risk being late for school, I turn to grab my backpack that I had set out with my shoes the day before. I stop when I see Mom holding it out to me, a sad smile on her snout.

“You’ll need this, Sweetie.”

I hesitantly take the backpack and slide it over my shoulders. “...Thanks…”

She silently holds out her arms, clearly expecting a hug of her own. Instinctively, I begin to turn to walk away… but the guilt from before holds me in place. We stand there for a long moment, my back to her while my grip on the backpack straps tightens.

Mom shuffles behind me. “...I know you favor your father more than me. I can accept that…” She pauses. “But if it’s all the same to you, I'd only like a small piece of that love, too.”

A pang of shame crashes into my heart. She always knows how to hit me where it counts… although I admit I still do owe her an apology for before. What I said wasn’t fair.

Sighing, I turn and press myself into her arms, wrapping my tail around hers in a show of affection that only we can share. Mom gasps, though the surprise doesn't last long as she hugs me back, wanting to make the most of this rare moment.

I rub my head into her chest. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. What with blaming you for my height and calling you stupid. It wasn’t right.” My lips pull into a line. “And… I love you, Mom.”

This causes tears to fall onto the top of my head as I hear her sniffling to hold back the tide. “It means a lot to hear that, Starlight. Thank you.”

As we part again, I see her smiling through her tears. Miraculously, I smile as well. Not some snarky or mocking one. No, a genuine smile. Man, so many rare occurrences happening on one day. I think I need to go try my luck with a lottery ticket later today. Or maybe I’ll have the opportunity to finally outwit that one smug asshole online who I just can't seem to beat. Mark my words, TrashPanda69, your ass is grass.

Registering my current predicament, my plates burn hot as I spin on my heel and sprint out the door. I can hear Mom call after me to have a good day, but I pretend I didn’t hear her and continue my way down the driveway.

I seriously need something to clear my head after that, and I know just the trick. I make a mental note to stop by the convenience store along the way to pick up an energy drink. Hopefully, that will refresh my nerves and wash away all the repulsive affection I just witnessed that would be enough to sweeten the world ten times over.

…

Aaaaaand here comes that breakfast.

Raptor Jesus, kill me now.

Chapter Text

The muffled hum of students chatting reaches my ears first, followed closely by the faint outline of a building emerging from the obscuring morning mist. The appearance of Volcano High hasn’t changed much over the decades, at least from what I could grasp when Mom forced me to look through a photo album with her of when she attended the place. Still old-fashioned and looking straight out of a botched indie horror game, the only real evidence of change came in the form of the sign board sitting out front being traded for a holographic one and a few renovations.

Turning my head to read the scrolling text as I walk by, I can see they have already set up a list of reminders for upcoming events, like midterm exams and prom. I scoff. Please, as much as this place portrays itself as an ‘educational facility’ like so many others, anyone with half a brain cell should know that in reality this is just another daycare for hopeless, hormone-driven idiots. The only two things that come out of this place are learning who stabs you in the back and where egos come to die.

My breathing becomes a heavy pant as I finally reach the bottom of the steps leading up to the school. Stupid exercise. When the fuck are those white-coat eggheads going to invent something useful that removes such needs? I can’t even ask Dad to drive me anymore due to his work schedule change, and Mom refuses under the idea that ‘I’m spending too much time lazing around in my room.’ What a load of bullshit.

Fortunately, I still have a bit of my energy drink left that I picked up on the way, which I drain the rest of to quench my thirst. Used up, I crush the can in my hand and start my way up the steps. The voices I heard before grow quiet as I pass by groups of students sitting and standing along the concrete construction. Their eyes burn into me, mocking thoughts clear as day. Though a few have the spine not to pretend otherwise as they speak with hushed tones.

“Hey, looks like that reject still has the gall to show up.”

“What a loser. And that outfit. Totally never in season.”

“Careful, I heard she bites. Just look at those teeth. So unnatural.”

Jaw clenched, I tug on my backpack straps as I quicken my pace despite my exhaustion. The jeers of these brain dead fakes are all hot air, just like their futures. This is exactly why I hate coming here. Not even inside and already the prime target of their angst.

Reaching the top of the steps, I make a beeline for the front entrance in hopes of finding solitude in one of the many hiding spots around the school until the bell rings. Unfortunately, there is a burly looking pair of baryonyx blocking the doors. They absentmindedly talk amongst themselves, slapping each other on the shoulders and overall are just being a nuisance for those trying to get by. Myself specifically. Even with my smaller frame, I can’t find a gap to slip past.

After a few attempts, they finally notice my presence. They look down at me, expressions confused. One of them crosses their arms to reveal the patched elbows of their letterman jacket in the school’s colors. With no indication of moving, I narrow my eyes, glaring between them as I bare my teeth in a snarl.

“The fuck are you dickwads looking at?!” My tail thrashes behind me, thagomizers scraping the pavement. The duo look unfazed by the display. “What? Did your jock fuck buddies not invite you to the circle jerk? Move!”

My hands ball into closed fists, unceremoniously crushing the can I am still holding further, and letting some of its remaining former contents drip at my feet. I can hear snickering behind me, but I keep my eyes forward. The two look at one another, whether expecting the resistance or not, and hesitantly part to allow enough room for me to pass.

I growl, stepping between them. “That’s what I thought, Posers.”

Entering through the sliding glass doors, the real challenge begins as I am met with an unholy mess filtering through the hallway ahead of me. What is clearly too many students jammed into a limited space shows the lack of planning in this place. Everywhere I look, you have shallow beauty queens gossiping to their posies, four-eyed nerds debating over useless homework, and the rest of those asshole jocks spoiling the air with their stench.

Taking a few steps, I immediately have to duck as a flying drone nearly knocks my head off. It flies chaotically through the air, chased closely by some jackass with a controller. I consider grabbing the dick by the hem of his shirt and teaching him a lesson as he passes, but I settle for chucking the empty can in the direction he went.

To my continued fortune, a satisfying clink manages to reach my ears, followed by a surprised shout. I chuckle, turning back to press through the densely packed pile of bodies as I make my way further into the building.

It’s not long until I realize that my usual route is not an option today, so I begrudgingly decide to take a detour past the last place I’d like to be near. The principal’s office. The door is closed today, which is odd, as it’s usually wide open. A so-called ‘invitation for troubled students’. As deadbeat as most of the staff is here, I suppose she actually takes her job seriously, not that it makes much of a difference.

Passing by without being noticed, I slip around the corner to a less populated section. I slow my pace, knowing that my first hiding spot is just up ahead. Soon I’ll have some much needed peace and quiet. Except as I near the end of the hallway, my eyes fixate on a corkboard next to the trophy case sharing the space.

I scrunch my brow, stopping in place before it while my eyes run over the assortment of posters and brainwashing propaganda. Amidst the extracurricular club sign-up sheets and event announcements, one flyer in particular catches my eye.

A simple, plain piece of paper with the header: ‘Beware! The corrupting touch of a hybrid is infectious! Do not interact and avoid at all costs or it’s YOUR life on the line.’ Blatant lies, and no doubt the hate speech will be removed by the end of the hour, especially in such a public area. So much for all that funding towards awareness programs. Probably getting embezzled instead of actually being spent on helping.

Lifting a hand, I grab the corner of the paper and tear it off the board from its thumbtacks, holding it up. Rereading the words printed on the page only intensifies my anger as I eventually rip the paper until it is nothing but tiny pieces. Fucking trash box of a society. If only I could just as easily tear it all down.

Still unsatisfied, I drop the pieces to the floor and grind them under my heel. Removing my foot, I ‌hear a voice call out from behind me.

“You really shouldn’t litter, even if everyone else does it.”

Turning around, ready for a fight, I feel almost disappointed when I see it is just Amber. Wearing her signature green jacket and orange ribbon, she has her hands on her hips and is in the middle of making a lecturing expression I've seen too many times.

I roll my eyes. “Bite me. Besides, since when do you care about the planet? Aren’t you the reason this place has a restriction on printer paper now?”

Amber snorts. “If they didn’t want it used, they shouldn’t have left it open access. I had important documents to print, anyway.”

“Important? You printed a copy of the Marxist manifesto just to spite your teacher when he asked you to read something other than comic books in class.” Of which I can give my approval for. I wish they hadn’t burned it. Totally would have given it a read.

She flaps her wings, clearly still annoyed at being sent to the principal’s office for the stunt. Guess it doesn't help to try to take the book back by force, claiming sentimental value.

“That jerk may have won this round, but the war is far from over.” She rubs her beak, a sinister glare in her eye. “Just you wait and see what I have cooked up next.”

“Never willing to surrender, are you?” My plates clack with intrigue. “Good. I’d have to call you a coward otherwise. So, what’s your grand reveal for this absolute disaster?”

Amber grins, eagerly beginning to explain in-depth of her plan and similar mischief. Not too long into it, however, my attention is drawn away as I spot another flying obscured object speed right towards us. Thinking it’s the same drone from before, I search my pockets for a new can to use as ammunition.

All out, unfortunately.

However, I soon recognize the contraption’s spray-painted design of red racing stripes, and its owner as a purple triceratops dressed in jean overalls and a gray shirt breaks onto the scene. Sera jumps, snatching the drone out of the air, and landing with a thud next to us. She carefully secures it under her arm as she waves with the other, likely having come from a morning club meeting.

“Yo! How’s it going, you two?”

I chew my lip while Amber nods back. “Better now that I don’t have that week-long detention. I thought I was gonna die of boredom there.”

Sera whistles. “About time. That punk Jack deserved to get his ass handed to him. Heard you even referenced a game while doing it. Mad respect.” Sera slides off her bag, stuffing the drone into it before zipping it back up and replacing it onto her back. “You two seriously have some strange rivalry going on. Or maybe… there’s something else going on between you two~” She nudges the ptero with her elbow, waving her eyebrows.

Amber visibly gags. “Not a chance in hell! I’d rather not touch that prick with a ten-foot pole, but he tries my patience. Unfortunately, he knows exactly how to push my buttons. If you mess with my family, then I have every right to sock you right in the snout. You should have heard the crunch. Thankfully, I don’t have to deal with his bullshit for another day as he’s still on suspension until tomorrow.”

“Should have done more than that,” I add, crossing my arms. “You know he’s only going to try again when he has the chance. Remember how he got under your scales last month at the track meet?”

“Let him try that stunt again,” Amber says, holding her arm up and placing a hand on her bicep. “There’s more where that came from.”

No one can remember when this shitstorm started between them. It’s almost like they were born to hate one another, not that I’m complaining. Just gives me peak entertainment without having to lift a finger. Although…

“Just… don’t stop watching your back. You never know how slimy that bastard can be.” I speak more quietly than before, though the pair still manage to pick up on it.

Sera dons a smug grin. “What’s this~ Are you worried about our dear sweet Amber? Or just trying to look disinterested?”

I flash her a snarl as I can feel a blood vessel pulsating in my head. “Please! Like I would ever lower myself to something like that. I just don’t want her to lose, or else I might get dragged into her mess.”

Amber’s wings flap with excitement, sending a few feathers falling to the floor. They aren't as big as some of the other pteros in school, mainly due to her being a hybrid like me and Sera. She hardly looks like one though, just with smaller wings, tail, and an envious resistance to the cold from being warm-blooded.

Even Sera barely looks the part. Sure, her tail is twice as long as any other triceratops, not to mention the bushy feathers at the end. That thing is practically an abused paintbrush. But you’d hardly give her a second glance.

Me, on the other hand.

My plates are smaller than other stegos, not that that is noticeable given my already shorter stature. What really earns me nasty looks, however, are my tail and teeth. Got the traditional murder spikes to gut my enemies, but there is also the presence of a small fin at the tip of my tail, thanks to dad’s megalodon side. He’s also the reason I got these saw blade chompers. They are pretty rad, I will admit.

So you can imagine people would easily freak out about a supposed herbivore that looks like they can eat your entrails and enjoy it. But what’s worst of all is this goddamn dry-ass scale condition. Raptor Jesus was really playing a prank on me with that one. Giving fish qualities requiring constant lubrication to a land saurian.

I scratch my forearm, thinking about the constant irritation, causing a few flakes of scale to peel off. I even forgot my lotion at home today, so I’m stuck dealing with it until this evening.

My ruminations are interrupted as Amber closes the short distance between us in a heartbeat. My eyes go wide as I try to avoid her, but I react too late and am forcibly pulled into a skull-splitting hug.

“Aww. Thanks, Cyn. I knew you cared about me.”

“I- Don’t- Care-” The words choke out of me as I struggle to free myself. Fortunately, after a few agonizing seconds, I am released, rubbing my chest as I cough violently.

Sera gestures at me with a double finger gun salute. “Oh, you totally do~ It’s written all over your face.”

“Bite me!” I shout back, tail straightening.

The inseparable duo burst into laughter at my expense… yet somehow I find myself chuckling along with them. They’re loud, obnoxious, and overly friendly, so why does it feel right when I’m with them? Guess that mystery is why I’ve continued to hang out with them for all these years, discounting the fact that all of our parents are also good friends.

Apparently, Amber’s Dad and my Mom are very similar with their weeb obsessions. Makes me wonder if we would have been sisters in a different life? The thought sends a shiver down my spine. Absolutely not. Fuck that.

Having decided to abandon the idea of crawling into that nearby hiding hole, I stay with them and carry on bantering in the hallway. After a few minutes, a new voice joins ours, one that sets off all the alarm bells in my head.

“That’s no fun, starting the party without me! Let me in on it too!”

I instinctively crouch as an orange arm flies right overtop of where my head was moments ago, followed closely by the body of an ankylosaur girl. Her braided brown hair whips about as she spins on her heel to try to re-engage the headlock, but I expected this from prior experience and dodge again.

Maria regains her balance after another miss, sizes me up, then bellows out a hearty laugh. “For being such a twig, you’re quite nimble when you want to be, Cynthia. How come you never train that side of you? We could be gym buddies.”

“Because then I’d never get you off my ass about it,” I retort, flipping her off.

She shrugs. “Don’t think you've got much of a choice there.” Amber approaches Maria from the side, the two fist bumping. “Sup, Amber. Good to see you without all those shackles. I was starting to think you enjoyed detention.”

Amber sighs, resting her face in her hands. “Is that really what my image is now?”

Sera pats her on the shoulder, causing the disturbed ptero to look at her hopefully. The trike closes her eyes and nods. “Best you accept it early on. Who knows, you might even make it as head of a prison someday. Lofty goals. I hear they get all the nice toilet wine.”

“Fuck you! Traitor!” Amber cries out. Sera giggles as she attempts to flee from her friend’s wrath. “Get back here, dammit!”

“Ahaha nope!” Sera calls back, sticking her tongue out. Amber raises her arms above her head, shouting more demands that fall on deaf ears. They run down the hallway, pushing past other students unfortunate enough to get in their way.

Just before their chase takes them out of sight, they pass by the last of our dysfunction group as a pink parasaur in an oversized red sweater rounds the corner. She barely moves out of the way in time, bumping into a locker and nearly dropping the stack of pristine textbooks in her arms. Slow to recover, she lets out a relieved breath, swiping a few stray strands of blonde hair from her face and looking after our friends with a confused expression before continuing her walk towards us with a smile.

Melissa offers a polite wave to which Maria reciprocates, while I shrug a greeting. “It would seem those two are as lively as ever. I swear, they never know when to hold back.”

Maria crosses her arms. “Come on. You know you love it.”

She chuckles. “I suppose I do, don’t I? Though I wish they would apply themselves to their studies as much as they goof off all the time. We’re at one of the most important points in our lives where we need to figure out our futures.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Didn’t Sera beat you on the last set of exams?”

The parasaur stammers, a streak of red crossing her cheeks. “T-That was just a mock exam. It doesn’t count. When the real ones happen, I’ll beat her. Count on it.” She hugs the textbooks closer, tail swaying anxiously.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” says Maria. “She’s beaten you all year. The girl is smart; admit it. A real demon, despite having never seen her study once. Really makes the rest of us look bad.”

“Speaking of tests,” I say, grinning mischievously. “Didn’t we bet on who would have the lowest score out of all of us for last week’s math test? The loser buys everyone else lunch.”

Maria stiffens, tugging on her orange hoodie. “I- Uh… Really? I didn’t realize we were doing that.”

Ever the obnoxiously studious person, Melissa shifts as she riffles through her stack of books. “Actually, Cynthia is correct. I even wrote down all our scores so that it would be easier to compare.”

“¡¿Qué?! How did you get access to that?! I never told anyone! Isn’t it supposed to be private information or something?!”

“Call it the perks of being an excellent student. Teachers will let you get away with stuff like that if you don’t cause them a headache nowadays, which is saying a lot.” Withdrawing a small notebook, Melissa balances the rest of her textbooks on her tail as she flips through it, placing a finger on a marked page. “Yup, it’s right here. Most of us were betting on it being either Cynthia or Amber, but from the looks of it, you scored the lowest, Maria.”

I cackle, rubbing my hands together. “Sweeeeet! That means you lost the bet. Fork up that cash, Idiot.”

A flash of hesitation consumes Maria’s face, knocking away all the boastfulness she held prior. It was brief. Barely a moment. But still there. However, she is quick to cover it up by letting out an obviously over the top laugh that draws the attention of some of the other students around us.

“I have no idea what you gente loca are talking about.” Maria snatches the notebook from Melissa’s hands and pulls out a pen from… somewhere, beginning to scribble inside of it. “Here. Let me just fix this.”

“Hey! Give that back!” Melissa tries to retake her property, but Maria manages to keep it just out of her reach.

“Hold on. I’m almost done.”

The two fumble around one another like pigeons fighting for the same discarded food, except a hundred times more retarded. It’s not even fair. Maria clearly has the upper hand being stronger and more agile than her opponent, but I have to give Melissa credit for showing a certain amount of tenacity.

Her remaining textbooks clatter to the ground in a pile as she repeatedly jumps to no success, fingertips grasping empty air. Maria isn’t even writing in the notebook anymore, simply holding it up to playfully taunt the struggling parasaur.

Getting the hint that we won’t be seeing a cent of that bet money, I choose to sit back and enjoy the show. I lean sideways against the lockers, shaking my head at the ridiculous waste of time… but I suppose it’s what makes this place bearable. Each and every last of one of these damn degenerates I call friends has a screw loose, which means we fit together in some messed up way I haven’t been able to crack.

Out of us all, you might even say Mrs. Perfect Student Role Model over there is the odd one out, but everyone has their secrets.

Taking a furious leap forward, Melissa soars through the air and manages to finally grab the notebook with both hands, yanking it free from Maria’s grip. In doing so, however, her sweater lifts enough to reveal the exposed end of a pair of fishnet leggings beneath her jeans covering her midsection and a halter top with the logo of some heavy metal rock band printed on it. No one else seems to notice as she lands, letting the cover fall back over to hide her secret. Dumbass must have gone to a concert last night and forgot to get changed before coming to school, again.

Seriously! How the fuck am I the only one who knows this, given how piss poor she is at hiding it? Even Amber, who spends more time with her than the rest of us on the account of them being cousins, doesn't have a clue as far as I can tell.

But regardless of what her weird reasons are for keeping it hidden, I’ve got nothing to gain from exposing her, so I’ve kept my mouth shut about it… for now. I’m still figuring out the best way to blackmail her into kindly helping me with my homework to not actually flunk out.

Melissa smiles victoriously, only to gasp in horror as she examines her notebook. “Maria! You completely ruined the page! Look at this mess!” She holds it up to reveal that all the scores have been blotted out with a hastily written ‘100%’ in their places.

Maria places her hands behind her head. “What? Now we're all winners, right? Am I a genius or what?”

Unwilling to argue further, Melissa sighs, closing the book and moving to pick up her dropped textbooks. In the distance, Amber and Sera are walking back towards us with their arms wrapped around the other’s shoulders, laughing. Maria moves to meet them halfway, ready to share her triumph over her academic failings.

I begrudgingly step away from my spot to rejoin the chaos. The peace was nice while it lasted, I guess.

However, I only make it a few steps when, out of nowhere, another student appears in my way. We bump into one another, a transgression I would normally meet with fiery intent, but feeling drained from the long morning, I decide to ignore them and mutter a lineage ending insult under my breath instead… That is, until I hear a high-pitched shriek pierce the air.

“Ew ew ew ew! That race mixed mutt just touched me! Here, give me some of your hand sanitizer!” Turning around, I see that the girl is also a stegosaur, though with bright blue scales and a pair of bow ribbons tied in her long hair. Upon seeing her face, my gut twists as I recognize who it belongs to. Alice, one of the major thorns in my side, and an absolute menace to deal with.

After one of the other girls she is with hands her the bottle, Alice douses her hands in its contents and scrubs frantically at her exposed shoulder around the sleeveless yellow dress she is wearing. Finished, she turns and takes me in, a grimace marring her features. “Gross. It’s you again.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my friends all stop and look our way, having heard the commotion. This isn't the first time this dipshit thought about confronting me head on, as vexing as she is. Most people usually either run away after I glare at them, or snicker behind my back, but remain otherwise to themselves. It’s what I count on so I don’t have to waste energy on the likes of them.

I can handle those types.

But people like her… who make a scene out of it, they make my blood boil.

“Excuse me?!” I say, stalking up to her. “I didn’t quite catch that with all your whining, but I’m sure you were just apologizing for being a blind-ass cumdumpster who can’t see two feet in front of her.”

Alice balks at my forwardness. “Are you seriously addressing me right now?”

“Yeah, that’s kinda how a conversation works, you square-toed cunt.”

Judging by her confusion, I can tell she still isn't used to being confronted for her rude behavior. My best guess has always been that she is the daughter of a deadbeat tycoon who gives her an allowance more than most make in their lives.

And so realizing the situation would not end with me retreating with my tail between my legs, as usual, she fixes up her dress and looks down at me, both literally and figuratively.

“What makes you think I would ever intentionally try to make conversation with someone as disgusting as you? I’m surprised you’re still willing to show your face in public. I mean, look at you.” She waves a hand dismissively in my direction.

Resisting the urge to follow Amber’s example and immediately deck her right in her snout, I grit my teeth, tail swaying behind me as thagomizers mark the floor. The air fills with a sound more unsettling than nails on a chalkboard. This, however, only pushes her to continue.

“See? You’re a perfect example of why different races shouldn’t mix. What are you even? I bet they keep your kind locked up in an exhibit for normal people to laugh at.” She leans down, content with her mockery. “You’re supposedly a stegosaur, but I wouldn't be caught dead admitting we're the same species. Those crass teeth and predatory eyes. Part fish, I’d imagine. That would explain the smell.” She pinches her snout.

Her smile widens as she looks down past me. “Oh~ Definitely. How could you not be with that sorry excuse of a fin on your tail?”

My plates clack together, increasing in tempo as they take on a reddish-hue. I jab my finger into her chest. “Big talk for someone who has more chromosomes than brain cells, you inbred, cross-snouted whore.”

Alice crosses her arms, scoffing. “Do you honestly think I care what someone beneath me thinks? I know your ‘kind’. You're all bark and no bite. Pretty pathetic, honestly.”

No bite, huh? Clearly, she has memory issues. But I am more than happy to remind her.

Clenching my hand into a fist, I’m about to smack this blue bitch… I pause, however, when another hand presses down on my shoulder. At first I thought it was one of Alice’s goons, making me ready to bite off their fingers… except Maria soon appears by my side, pushing her back with a hefty shove.

“Back off, Puta. No one here is looking for a fight. Why don’t you take your merry band and move along?”

Alice’s friends catch her. She shrugs them off, eye twitching. “Because I don't need to be going to the same school with something like that. She doesn't belong here. And why are you defending her? Don’t tell me you are actually friends with her. You at least have the decency to be a pure breed like us.”

“Believe it and weep, Princesa” Maria retorts, holding her arms out to either side with pride. “And for the record, I’m intervening for your sake, not hers.”

Alice shakes her head. “Oh yeah? And why is that? As I said, I already know she doesn't have the spine to do a thing. Will probably just go sulking in her room like some common diseased rat.”

Maria releases me, holding her hands up in mock surrender as she shoots me a smirk. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Alice’s tail slams into a nearby locker, denting it. “Enough of this fake bravado! I’m not scared of some-”

I dart towards her, placing our faces inches apart and snapping my teeth at her. One would easily mistake that I had taken a chunk out of her snout with how much force I put into the motion, aided by her haunted scream.

She stumbles back, this time not being caught, as she lands square on her ass. “Y-You sick freak! How dare you?!”

I take a step towards her, making her flinch. “S-Stay away! Someone, help me!”

“Who has the fake bravado now?” I ask, amused.

She glares at me with a mixture of uncertainty and rage, so I answer her challenge by standing over her, glaring back, and casually spit directly into her hair. This sends her over the edge as she screams again, swiping at her head before pulling out a pocket mirror to inspect the damage. I huff as she scrambles down the hallway, likely in search of the nearest bathroom. Her friends are not far behind, leaving the hallway completely silent.

I hadn’t noticed it before, but the other students were now watching from afar, giving us a mile of space.

Or rather, me. The freak.

I attempt to dismiss the stupid insinuation… except I can’t. In that moment, a piece deep inside my blackened heart stings, as if pierced with a dagger. Why? I’ve been through all this garbage before.

Nothing is different.

Nothing ever changes.

…And it never will…

Before I can dwell on the strangling feeling, Maria slaps me hard on the back. “Ah, sick! I wanna hurl, dude.” She laughs, expression softening as she returns her hand to my shoulder. “...You good?”

I brush off her hand, looking away. “Duh. Why wouldn't I be? I had it under control.”

“Whoa. Easy there, hermana. Didn’t mean to step on your tail. I just wanted to try to help. Who knows what you would have done to her otherwise.”

“I’ll be sure to add that to my fucks to give jar, but I didn’t need your help.” My jaw clenches as I glare at those watching us, rubbing my upper arm.

Maria sighs, stepping around to block my view of them. “Doesn’t matter if you needed it or not, chica. I’m not about to stand by and let someone harass my best friend like that.” I could no longer see the hateful faces or hear their jabbing jeers. Instead, all I see is a face full of sincerity, and hear the voice of someone I have come to know I can trust.

“...Right, sorry… Thanks, I guess…”

She smiles again, but before she can respond, we are joined by the others.

“What a loudmouth,” says Melissa. “I’ll be sure to report her to the principal during lunch. Such displays will not be tolerated.”

Sera stomps the ground. “I hope she gets more than that. Next time I see her I’ll sic Romeo on her. I’ve been meaning to try some of his new ‘weapons’ I installed.” She pats her backpack with the drone still inside. “Or maybe…”

Amber steps up, cracking her knuckles. “Already on it. I was beginning to miss detention, anyway.”

I glance between them all, unsure what to feel. While their support was appreciated whenever messes like this happened, it also began to irritate the shit out of me. I don’t need their sympathy, or anyone else’s. This is just another part of my fucked up life. I’ve learned long ago it's best to take it on the chin and face it head on. If the world wants a fight, then I’ll give it one. Even if I go down swinging, it’s better than being some wimpy punching bag who never stood up for herself.

A series of cheers and shouts rise above the surrounding silence further down the hallway. Apparently, my own interaction with the ‘locals’ wasn’t the only action happening, though it is hard to tell exactly what is going on. At least, until the growing crowd parts ahead as a student is thrown through the newly created opening.

He lands on his back, sliding some distance and letting out a gasp of pain. The blow must have knocked the wind right out of the poor sucker. A lean crimson raptor walks through the carnage and stops at the student’s feet, laughing triumphantly.

The downed student tries to get back up, but is immediately pushed back down to the ground again by the raptor’s foot. More cheers erupt, almost everyone there wearing approving expressions. So much for a place of learning. More like a gladiatorial coliseum. In the distance, I can already hear the voices of teachers rushing to break up the fight.

My friends watch with a combination of appalment and irritation. I, however, begin to walk away. Not my fight, not my problem. As unfortunate as it is, the student will need to learn to stand up for himself, just like-

Pausing mid stride, I can’t help but glance back over my shoulder curiously as I realize that the victim feels strangely familiar. He manages to sit up again, brushing off his moss colored shearling bomber jacket and stretches his gray-blue wings. The raptor goes for another hit with a long wind up… and the ptero just takes it despite seeing it coming from a mile away.

What the fuck?

Why didn’t he dodge? Or better yet, hit back? He did neither. Instead, he lets the punch connect, which sends him onto his back again. Is he an idiot? I wouldn't be surprised if he had brain damage from how much he is getting knocked around.

A series of bone chilling clicks and hisses sends a shiver down my spine, like someone had just put the grim reaper’s scythe around my neck. Amber’s wings flare to their maximum length, eyes pin pricks as she stares at the scene playing out before her.

“That motherfucker is so dead…” Her words come out as a hushed prophecy. One to be enacted right here and now as she then marches towards the center of the reforming circle.

Sera moves to stop her, but Melissa grabs her wrist and shakes her head. As much as I dislike agreeing with her, she does have a point. Nothing can stop Amber now. She is like a force of nature when truly angered. Best to stay out of her way and weather the storm. And the other students know that too as they all get out of her way without a second thought.

The teachers arrive a second too late to restore order as the raptor looks up, only to have his head violently snap to the side as Amber slams her fist into his snout. He falls, blood spilling from his nose as he curses. She stands there for a moment in retribution, making sure he won't be getting back up, then turns to the victim.

Greene rubs his head as his older sister holds out her hand to help him up. He hesitates, but ultimately accepts the offer. Hauling him to his feet, Amber checks him for any sign of injuries, though judging by her look of relief, it is safe to say he came out of the scuffle relatively unscathed.

"Doing this tontería as a public show now, huh?” Maria says under her breath, shaking her head. “It’s like they don’t even care anymore to hide it, or the consequences. Still, Amber is going to get in over her head one of these days, I swear. But I can’t fault her for it. I would have done the same if it was one of my familia.”

I turned to her. “You would, wouldn’t you? You both have bricks for brains when it comes to that sort of thing.” I must still be on edge from before, because I immediately regret opening my fucking mouth with that one as Maria shoots me an intense glare. I expect her to yell, however, she merely sighs.

I relax, thinking I got let off the hook this time… which was my biggest mistake as she takes me off guard and finally lands that headlock. Her arm coils around my neck as I attempt to tap out, tail thrashing about behind us.

“Not this time, you little gremlin. I still owe you from before.”

My words become stuck in my throat. “Let- Go of me- You damn- Gorilla!”

Maria gasps. “Oh-ho-ho! You did NOT just call me that.” Her grip tightens and I swear I can see stars.

We struggle there as Melissa and Sera share a look. However, their attention is drawn to something else, enough to distract Maria as well and allow me to slip from the headlock. I cough, rubbing my neck.

Peering through misty eyes, I see Amber and Greene approaching us. Behind them is that group of lousy teachers ordering students to their morning classes. One points at Amber, who waves him off nonchalantly.

“What was that about?” asks Sera. “Aren’t you in trouble for flatlining that student?”

Amber nods. “Oh yeah. But they know I’ll get my punishment whether they interfere or not. Can’t exactly escape that sort of thing when your Mom runs the school.”

Sera grimaces. “Must suck to have one of your parents as the principal.”

“Has its perks, though we mostly keep our private lives and school separate. When it comes to fighting…” She goes quiet for a moment, only to shake her head and don her typical confident smile. “Anyway, I’m going to take Greene to the nurse’s office to get him checked out.”

Greene groans. “I said I’m fine, sis. Stop trying to baby me.” Standing next to him, he is roughly a head taller than most of us, especially me, as the top of my head barely meets his shoulders. He avoids making eye contact with anyone as Amber jams her elbow into his side.

“No buts, Doofus. If you’re so willing to get your leather handed to you, how do you expect me to not worry? We’re going whether I have to drag you there or not.”

He ruffles his messy hair. “Why are you always such a pain in the ass?”

“Because I’m the big sister. It’s my job.” Amber retorts.

“Well, get a different job then!”

“And leave me unemployed? Really?”

The two glare at one another as they lock in an intense staring contest. It doesn’t last long, however, as Amber breaks away first, rubbing her eyes. Green silently grins at his victory.

What the hell? Where was this fight in him when he was getting beaten up two minutes ago? What a strange guy. I’ve never been able to get a read on him, not that we’ve talked much. The furthest our interactions have taken us is pretending the other doesn’t exist whenever Amber drags him out on occasion. Otherwise, he keeps to himself mostly. Either way, he’s exactly the kind of person I can’t stand.

Greene stuffs his hands in his pockets as Amber berates him, ignoring her and letting his eyes wander until eventually glancing in my direction. No, not my direction. He’s looking directly at me. I scowl, narrowing my eyes. It’s become instinctual at this point.

“The fuck are you looking at?” I hiss under my breath. We lock gazes briefly, then he looks away as if not hearing me. Maybe he didn’t.

Definitely a weirdo…

Finishing her rant, Amber claps her hands together and turns back to us, getting everyone’s attention. “Oh! Before I forget, are you all still in to head over to the old skate and dine place after school today? I heard they have half off slushes and other high sugar content beverages.”

“The last thing you need is more nerve busting sugar, Amber,” says Maria. “But unfortunately I’ll have to cancel. Helping my folks demolish the old barn later and I am not missing the chance to get a piece of that action. It’s not every day I get to burn down a building.”

Melissa looks at her watch, expression souring. “Afraid I’m also busy. Got a lot of homework I need to catch up on.”

Amber tilts her head. “Homework? What homework? Aren’t you like, three weeks ahead at this point?”

The parasaur glances around before coughing into her fist. “Yes, well, some other urgent material got released last night and I need to make sure I catch up on it for extracurricular activities.”

I roll my eyes at the boldfaced lie. Homework my ass. For her family being a bunch of music nuts, Amber should take the hint that Metalidino just released a new album recently, and that is likely what she is referring to for ‘extracurricular activities’. I’m not following the music scene much personally. I only know about it because one prepubescent brat was having a tantrum about it online. God, rage baiting that poor idiot was worth every second.

Amber’s excitement fades as she turns to her partner in crime. Sera sheepishly looks down. “I know I said I would come this time… but I'm going to have to cancel, too.”

“Aw, come one! You promised you’d come by. You’ve already cancelled the past two times.”

Sera shrinks. “I know, I know. It’s just that…” She pauses. “It’s my parents.”

“What about them?” asks Amber. “Do they have something against you hanging out past a certain time? If so, we can call them and I can promise to have you back. I’ll even have my parents drive you-”

“NO!” Sera shouts abruptly. Amber blinks, concern etching itself along her beak at her friend. “No… It’s not like that. Look, it’s nothing you need to worry about, but I can't come tonight, alright?”

Sensing the desperation in her voice, Amber nods, dropping the matter entirely. That, unfortunately, leaves only me as she musters all she can into a pair of pleading eyes.

“What?” I ask with growing irritation. “Don’t look at me like that.” Amber stares harder, even holding her hands up to her chest and tilting her head down. “I’m not buying that look, goddamn it! Stop it!” My resistance only furthers her attempts to look absurdly pathetic.

“Don’t leave me hanging here. You don’t have any plans besides sitting at home on your computer, right Cyn?” asks Amber.

I grumble. “Well, not really. But-”

“Great! We’ll meet you by the front entrance after school and walk over together. It’s been so long since you joined us. Everyone will be so happy to have you.”

A sharp burst of noise resonates from my plates as they clack together from the shock value of her declaration. “Hey! Hold on! I didn’t-”

“Ok- Awesome- Glad you're on board- See you all later!” Amber spews out the ramblings like a nut job as she takes Greene by the arm and hurriedly pulls him down the hallway, completely ignoring my shouts at refusal to take part in her stupid plans.

And yet, I know I’ll meet her there, just like she intended.

Maria tries to hide a snorting laugh. “She got you good.”

“Shut up…” I say, hunching over. “I gotta go. See all you losers later.”

The others all exchange goodbyes as we separate for our first period. Halfway to class, the electronic bell rings through the PA system, marking me as late. What else is new? I’ll get an earful from the teacher, then sleep through the rest of class, anyway.

God, I hope this day passes by fast so I can go home. I can feel my blue screen beauty calling to me already.

Chapter Text

Classes came and went as agonizingly mind numbing as always, with lectures so stale they threatened to liquify my brain. Even with all the resources and immersive tech at their disposal, it just makes their failings as educators more embarrassing. Hell, some of the teachers themselves got so bored by their own material that they activated their holographic substitutes meant for sick days to finish for them while they slept at their desks or read poorly hidden raunchy magazines.

I, of course, didn’t pass up this opportunity to catch up on my lack of sleep from the night before.

By the time the last bell rang to signal the end of another day of torture, I was just about ready to leave my head between the sliding glass doors to end my suffering. Though, unlike most other days, I did feel somewhat refreshed from the naps. Enough that I intended to celebrate my rare recuperation with another late-night session of forum surfing.

I know Dad asked me to get more sleep. And I will. I promise. But that can all start tomorrow. It’s not everyday I am blessed with these good graces.

Unfortunately, that will have to wait as I don't get the chance to escape the grounds on the account of a pair of ptero siblings waiting for me at the bottom of the steps. Amber waves excitedly at me while Greene checks his phone. Fucking. Fantastic. I know if I try to run now, I'll surely be caught in no time, so I might as well make the most of this.

Shrugging to adjust my backpack, I descend the steps to join them as we make our way down the street. This, predictably, leaves me with my current ass pull of trying to keep up with these long-legged monsters as Amber and Greene practically speed walk ahead of me. It takes all I have not to fall behind.

Thirty minutes later, and with legs feeling like jelly, our pace slows as we reach the outskirts of our destination. Compared to the modernly renovated inner city, Little Troodon has seen better days… I think. Maybe it always looked like hell on Pangea. Who knows? Pretty sure this place has been here since the dawn of time, and it certainly shows.

A gust of wind sweeps through the unkempt narrow streets, carrying with it a scent mixed with what the stands are selling. It's hard to move given how tightly packed everyone is, which would make my prior experience at Volcano High blush.

Eventually, we slip through a side route that takes us to a barren field. We cut across it, intending to reach the isolated brick building on the other side.

Halfway there, Amber turns around, walking backwards to look at her companions. “Ah man, I can’t wait! Been thinking about this all day. I can already taste those sugary goodies inside.” She is practically salivating, wings twitching.

“I’m surprised your beak hasn’t rotted away at this point,” says Greene. He looks off into the distance, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. “Pretty soon there won’t be anything left.”

“Hey! I like what I like, sue me,” Amber retorts.

“I’m not complaining, trust me. If anything, I’m going to enjoy hearing you complain about how fat you've gotten. Maybe if you can’t fit through the doorway, it’ll keep you out of my room for once.”

Amber fixes her gaze on her brother. “What? Embarrassed by what magazines I might find in my poor innocent baby brother’s room?” He rolls his eyes as she smirks. “Plus, all the sports I’m doing will keep the weight off. And if things get really bad, I can ask Uncle Naser for help. Doctors always got secret remedies to cheat corners.”

She bellows a laugh as Greene sighs. “That’s exactly what he keeps telling us not to think. It's all rumors and scams. I don’t think he would be willing to help anyway, not after how mad Mom got at him when Dad came to him behind her back about a hair transplant.”

“That’s because Dad’s an idiot. He should have known better than to try to hide something from Mom.”

Though Amber speaks jovially, there is a hint of genuine fear in her eyes. A memory that would terrify even her makes me know it is definitely none of my business to ask. Not that I’ve been part of this conversation much, anyway. I’m only now getting my breath back from the walk.

Amber faces forward again. “Besides, Mom eats all the same stuff I do, and she looks great. It’s in our genetics. Speaking of…” She glances over her shoulder at me. “How do you manage to last on nothing but all those energy drinks, Cyn? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat a full meal.”

I shrug. “Call it a skill issue, scrub. Maybe I’m just that better than the rest of you that I don’t need that kind of crap to exist. Get on my level.”

“More like being a walking radioactive power plant from all that battery acid.” Greene speaks with a hushed tone to no one in particular.

I snap my head to him, half in challenge, the other in disbelief. Does he have a goddamn death wish because I will gladly give it to him?! He looks away, however, what little grin he had disappearing. His eyes lock onto something nearing ahead of us.

Slowly breaking away from my glare, I see that we have reached the end of the field. The red brick building is close, the only thing now separating us being an attached abandoned skate park. The concrete bowl and ramps are covered in poorly drawn graffiti, looking like it hasn’t been used in years.

The building itself isn’t a prettier sight. Single story and layered in God knows what for grime, the back entrance wall is blank save for a single metal door. From what I do remember of this place on the rare occasions that I have visited, there should be a neon sign out front reading ‘Retro Indoor Rollerblading & Diner’ with half the letter burnt out and doing a pitiful job of illuminating the parking lot. Glancing over, I can only make out a handful of vehicles parked there.

When our feet meet asphalt, Amber stops as she cranes her head, clearly looking for something. After a few seconds, she lets out an excited squawk and I realize it wasn’t something, but someone, standing by the wall.

She sprints ahead, sliding into the concave skating pool, only to then climb over the lip of a ramp on the other end and perch on top. Greene isn’t far behind, also entering and stepping up the steep incline as if it were nothing to him. I‌ was a fool for not going around like a sane person, as soon I found myself stuck at the bottom.

It takes several attempts for me to crawl my way out of the dish. Kicking a leg over the lip, I roll onto my side, then into a sitting position, panting. Stupid fucking peer pressure. Why do I always get dumber around this family?

Standing a few feet away, I spot the person Amber had been so interested in. A green baryonyx a bit younger than us wearing a white and blue letterman jacket with slicked back spiky hair. He is completely oblivious to our presence, no doubt due to the tinted shades and headphones covering his ears as they blast music so loud I can faintly hear it. I cringe at recognizing the traces of overrated white girl music.

However, my disgust quickly turns into intrigue as I see him shake a spray can in hand and inspect the mural before him I hadn’t noticed before. A damn good one at that. Nothing like the shit-stained trash covering the skate park. The art depicts a hyper realistic yellow raptor girl holding a flower. It’s hands down one of the best pieces I’ve seen, not that I would ever admit that out loud, especially given who it would be to, as it would only add to his inflated ego.

Carefully adding a few touch-ups, Trent steps back from the wall. Then, in a spur-of-the-moment decision, he begins to dance on the spot and hum to the music. Amber snickers, watching gleefully as Greene crosses his arms in amusement. The young artist looks to be enjoying every second of this. I can’t help but snort at the hilarity of what I am witnessing, either.

Unfortunately, I have no intention of spending my night watching his admittedly horrendous dance moves ruin the art he just created. With a grunt, I push myself to stand and walk over to him. “Trent!” He starts to sing aloud into the spray can like a microphone, which makes me thankful he didn’t pursue a career in music. “TRENT!” His movement became more erratic, swinging his tail and hips around.

I growl, reaching out and grabbing him by the shoulder. “HEY! TONE DEAF HANDBAG! TAKE OFF THOSE FUCKING HEADPHONE AND-”

Trent lets out a high-pitched scream, whipping around and accidentally pressing down on the spray can. A stream of yellow paint nearly blinds me as I take a step back. The wall next to us, however, was not so lucky in being spared that fate. A massive yellow streak cuts across the mural, sticking out like a sore thumb and clearly unintentional.

“Hot damn, girl!” Trent pants, clutching his chest. “What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?” After a moment, his panic transforms into surprise as he sees all of us watching him. “Oh shit. You’re all here. What’s up, gang? Took you all long enough.”

I place my hands on my hips. “It’s not my fault you’re listening to that crap again. If you weren't trying to make yourself deaf, then maybe you would have heard us.”

“Woah there. This is peak music right here. Don’t go slandering my idols like that.” He smirks. “Just jealous I got better taste than you? It’s alright. I accept your apology.”

“Wha- What? I didn’t-” I groan, slapping my forehead with my hand. “Sweet Raptor Jesus, I hope you get hit by a truck.”

He laughs, lifting his shades and lowering the headphones to hang around his neck as Amber walks up to us.

“Yo, Trent. Been a while.” She grimaces, pointing to the ruined mural. “Uh… sorry about… you know.”

Trent raises an eyebrow as he turns to see the hideous finish of his art. I press my lips into a line, tail falling still behind me as I silently accept responsibility for the ruined piece. However, when I glance over at him, all I see is him staring with wide eyes.

“That’s it.” He drops the spray can and takes a step towards the mural. “Finally! That’s it! You’re a real lifesaver, Cynthia! This looks exactly how I had imagined it, but I just couldn’t get it right.” He holds up both hands so that his thumbs and index fingers touch in a rectangular shape.

I stand there dumbfounded. “Seriously? Dude, I think you have a screw loose or something.”

Greene places a hand on Trent’s shoulder. “You know, now that you mention it, it kinda has a uniqueness to it. I think I like it.”

“Right!?” Trent exclaims.

I shake my head, refusing to even attempt to understand the mentality of an artist. “Well, glad to see I have a hidden talent for bringing out the best in people. You may applaud me now.”

“Riiiight. That’s what that was.” Amber slugs me in the shoulder as she passes. Placing a finger under her beak, she looks over the mural again. “Huh. It’s not bad, actually. But since when did you get permission to paint here? I thought the owner was a real stick in the mud and that you got grounded the last time you used a public space as a canvas without permission.”

Trent kneels down, picking up the spray can he dropped and places it in his open bag with several others. A few other cans are littered around his feet. “Yeah, my parents were not happy about that, especially Mom. She made me write an apology letter and everything. But that’s a risk I’m willing to take to explore my artistic prowess.”

He nods towards the building. “While we were waiting for you all to show up, I asked the owner about it. He eyed me, but said I couldn’t possibly make it any worse than it already is. There is so much space here, I think I’ll make this my regular spot. Who knows, might even create my magnum opus.”

“Speaking of your Mom,” Greene says, bending over and handing the baryonyx one of the remaining spray cans. “What’s her deal with your ‘art’ anyway? You’ve mentioned before that she’s been temperamental about it lately. I thought she would be supportive of it, given she’s an artist herself.”

Trent sighs, inspecting the can in his hand. “She’s… like she always is. But I haven’t given up yet. I’ll show her what my art can do.”

I grunt. “Sounds pretty retarded that the art teacher at an artsy-fartsy school would be critical of her own son’s work. Shouldn’t she be promoting ‘expressiveness’ or some crap?”

Zipping up the bag and slinging it over his shoulder, Trent stands. “She’s just overprotective of me. Besides…” He pauses. “I can't really blame her for it. She’s been a little on edge. After all, she- we lost someone important to our family recently. Dad and I are taking it alright, but Mom… She’s holding together, mostly.”

A heavy blanket smothers the otherwise upbeat mood. I step up to the mural and thumb over my shoulder at it. “To hell with your haters, be it your family or not. You have talent, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Your work speaks for itself.”

Trent chuckles. “Thank you, Cynthia. Even though I'm confident about my work, it’s nice to hear your support. I’ll admit, it can be lonely‌.”

“Well, we're only a text away,” says Greene. “Just reach out if you need a hand or someone to talk to.”

Amber slaps her chest. “We’ll give you all the support you could ever need, so much so that you won’t know what to do with it all.”

“Of course. Always gotta give the fans what they want, right?” Trent slides down his shades. “But enough about me. Aren’t we here to have a good time or what? Let’s get a move on before everyone else eats all the greased-up pizza. All this painting had worked up my appetite.”

Amber cheers as she takes the lead towards the back entrance door. Greene lags behind as Trent slings his arm lazily around his shoulder, leaning into him. They chat about some random shit boys talk about, leaving me to pull up the rear.

My stomach growls at the thought of piles of junk food sounding pretty damn good right about now.

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

As unmaintained as the outside of the building looked, the interior was certainly not an improvement. Peeling paint and moldy carpets decorated the path leading to the main attraction hall, which, in all honesty, was just a massive roller skating rink with a handful of arcade games placed around it. At the far end of the room was a commodities counter manned by a single brontosaur teen who looked like they would rather be anywhere but here.

I could feel the humidity of the room hit me like a slap to the face as I entered. The nose-wrinkling smell of BO and grease filled the air. Even for a weekday, this place was pathetically dead with only a handful of customers. How this place is still in business is beyond my understanding.

Barely having made it a few feet past the entrance, our ragtag group is stopped short when a voice rings out to us from a table located near the back of the establishment.

“Amber! Greene! We’re over here! We saved you some seats!”

Amber grins as she bolts towards the source of the voice. I stiffen, plates thumping together in a low drumbeat, as I take in the sight of our autocrat of a principal sitting at the table in ‌casual clothes rather than her typical tailored suit. No matter how many times I see her outside of school, I will never get used to it. Perhaps I’m biased from all the scoldings I got from her in her office throughout the years. 

Princip- Mrs. Mous stands from her chair, wings flapping as she hugs her daughter, who runs into her arms. “Glad you both could make it. I was starting to worry you wouldn’t show up.”

Greene joins them, but forgoes the hug. “We would have been on time, but someone insisted on needing to stop at every shop in Little Troodon on the way here.” Amber huffs at his snitching.

Mrs. Mous nods, as if expecting the answer. Then, reaching out, she places her hand on her son’s head and ruffles his already disheveled hair. He swats her hand away, though smiles at the show of affection.

She looks back at Amber. “By the way, how was your day at school?”

Amber releases her mother. “Same old, same old. Just another day in paradise. You know, keeping good in my studies and definitely not getting into trouble.”

The older ptero cocks her brow. “I see. So then the story Mr. Frendiz told me about you beating up another student is false, correct?”

“Uh… Well, you see…” The scrutinizing gaze laid down upon the poor girl sends a clear message. Lying is not an option here. “...He deserved it. The jackass was picking on Greene. What was I supposed to do? Just watch?”

Mrs. Mous sighs. “Look, we’ll talk about this when we get home. But I will remind you that I do not approve of any sort of violence, especially from my own scale and blood. I’ll speak to Greene about it later, as well.”

Choosing to let the topic die, she glances over as Trent and I make our way towards them. “Say, wasn't there supposed to be more of you? I thought you said your whole friend group was coming. I even ordered extra pizzas.”

Amber shakes her head. “Most of them had to bail. Sucks to be them, though. They’ll just miss out on all the fun we’re gonna have.”

Her mother chuckles, addressing us all. “I suppose so. Then I hope you all are hungry cause we have a lot of food coming.”

“Aw hell yes!” Trent shouts. “I’m absolutely starving over here. Please tell me you got anchovies on some of them.”

A new figure appears as Amber and Greene’s Dad dons a massive shit eating grin. “You know it, Champ. That one was non-negotiable with Olivia involved. I personally don’t see the appeal. That stuff tastes nasty.” He rubs his bald head for ‌added effect of confusion.

Trent snorts. “That's because you've got no taste, old man. And make sure my Mom doesn’t hear you say that, otherwise she will be sure to take you down like last time.”

The towering skinnie’s face grows serious. “I lost only because she caught me off guard. Next time, I won’t go easy on her.”

“Who’s going easy on whom, Nerd?”

Looking past Mr. Mous towards the commodities counter, I see Trent’s parents heading our way with arms and laps full of pizza boxes stacked high. Mrs. Nito expertly maneuvers her wheelchair through the network of empty tables with her husband tailing close. She stops at one of the tables they’ve occupied to drop off her cargo before rolling up to us.

“I’m ready anytime you want. Just say the word and it's Go Time.” She leans forward in her wheelchair, leering at him smugly.

Mr. Mous rubs the back of his neck. “Come on, Olivia. Not in front of the kids. Have some class.”

She growls in disappointment. “Coward.”

“Anon is right, Liv. Let’s save the ass-kicking for another time. Today we’re here to have fun. It is our traditional family visit, after all.” Mr. Nito places his own boxes on the table. He’s not quite as tall as the other skinnie, but man, does he have one hell of a thick beard on his face, giving him a rugged lumberjack vibe.

“You’re no fun, Inco,” Mrs. Nito retorts, voice noticeably more scratchy. “But I guess we can put that aside for now. These pizzas aren’t going to eat themselves.”

Reaching down into a mesh pouch beneath her wheelchair, she pulls out a canteen covered in stickers, taking a sip. Guess I’m not the only one with persisting nuisances to be pestered by. The active thought reminds me of the current dryness of my scales, but I beat back the desire to scratch them. Fuck off already! I don’t need to go around grossing everyone else out right before we eat.

In my distraction, I failed to notice that, despite their claimed ravenous hunger, everyone else had already formed a line that was at least somewhat orderly. Mrs. Mous hands out paper plates, each one with more than a generous amount of slices. Being last in line, I am forced to watch as everyone else disperses to eat.

For a moment, I worry that there won’t be any left by the time I get to the front. That worry quickly subsides as I am handed a plate. Seeing the cheesy goodness does wonders for my health as I take a deep whiff.

“Oooooh yeah~ That’s the stuff.” I say unintentionally out loud.

I am made aware of my oversight as Mrs. Mous chuckles. “Good to see you’re so enthusiastic, Cynthia. I’m counting on you all because I don’t think we can fit all this in our fridge at home.” She smiles softly. “While it's disappointing to hear about the others, I’m happy you were able to make it.”

I freeze. “Uh… Thanks, Principal Mous.” I immediately facepalm internally. We’re not in school, dumbass!

The older ptero smirks. “There’s no need for that kind of formality when we’re outside of school. I’m sure I’ve told you that before. Even the whole Mrs. thing is a bit much for me personally. Please just call me Lucy. The same goes for my husband and Trent’s parents. You and your family are good friends of ours, and we appreciate your friendship with all our children.”

I consider her words. Amber, sure, I can see why she thinks that. Her obsession with never leaving me alone gives that impression. Trent, although younger, always feels like he’s a big brother ‌type. As for Greene, I’m not sure what mind trick she used on herself to believe that. We’re acquaintances at best, disgruntled strangers at worst. Barely acknowledging each other’s existence.

Lucy leans back in her chair, wings going lax as a series of pops emanate from her back. Her sudden movement makes me think that I had just said that last part out loud too, but she merely picks up a slice of her own pizza. Tossing it into the air, she snatches it with her beak with far less grace than I would have thought of her.

Maybe it’s time I re-evaluated my image of this woman.

“Besides,” she continues. “I’m here to relax just as much as any of you. I need a break every once in a while; otherwise, I’d go insane from all the work that school brings me.”

I groan. “No kidding. That chaotic cesspool brings me to the edge of sanity every time I go there. Not to mention all those self-absorbed pricks who make it harder for the rest of us. Most of the teachers there are too incompetent to-” My snout snaps shut so hard I think I chipped a tooth.

What the FUCK am I doing?! Sure, everything I just said was blatantly true, but I don’t need to go bashing the damn place right in front of the person who runs it! Maybe it was her calm demeanor that made me forget who I was talking to, but either way, I am most certainly screwed!

Detention, here I come.

My shoulders hunch as I await the incoming reprimand… except it never does. Meeting Lucy’s gaze, I can see that she is watching me intently, though there is not a hint of anger on her face. Almost like she wants me to continue. She sits up from her relaxed posture, resting one arm on the table and setting down the slice she was just about to eat.

“Cynthia…” Her tone is stiff.

Crap! Crap! Crap!

Gotta find a way to abort this trash fire before it starts.

Unfortunately, all my exit routes are blocked, and everyone who I had come here with is preoccupied.

Having scarfed down her share of food, Amber had immediately gone to rent a pair of rollerblades. I hate to admit it, but she has a weird ability to master this sort of stuff right away. She is currently in the middle of lapping circles around her father, who had decided to join her. He looks like a newborn animal, legs shaking underneath him as he clings to the sideboards. Occasionally she’ll perform a dizzying trick, drawing ‌applause from those who had stopped to watch her.

Trent and his Dad are hopping between arcade games with pockets full of coins. Though their physical appearances are starkly different, you can easily tell they are related by the way they act. From behind, they shift and move in a synchronized fashion in reaction to the games. Even their looks of defeat are the same as the Game Over prompt appears.

And Greene is… I tilt my head, seemingly forgetting the direness of my situation as I see him sitting alone at one of the nearby tables. He hasn't finished his first slice yet because he keeps interrupting his eating to wipe his hands. Before him is an assortment of tiny plastic pieces set into neat piles as he works on something on the table. Is that… a model? His eyes are narrowed, focused solely on the task at hand. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him so serious before, even considering the times he has argued with Amber.

That alone catches my eye the most. However, I do not have time to dwell on it as I hear Lucy calling my name once more.

“Cynthia? Are you alright?”

I shake my head. “Yeah… Sorry. I just got distracted. What were we talking about?” Oh, right. How much I just insulted her. Great. Welp, time to face the consequences of that stupid fumble. My parents are going to love hearing about this.

Lucy opens her beak to speak, but is cut off as we are joined by Olivia, who parks herself at the table. She sets down her greasy pile, quantity that of an entire box on its own. Her expression looks distant, sorrowful even, but she forces a smile, anyway.

It makes me wonder if it has something to do with the ‘loss’ Trent mentioned earlier.

“What's with all the hush-hush talk going on over here?” she asks. “Don’t tell me you’re plotting something. Because if so, I’m offended you excluded me.”

Lucy shakes her head. “Nothing like that, Liv. Cynthia was just telling me about her day at school. Which, from the sounds of it, did not go as well as she had hoped.” She sighs, demanding I look her in the eye. I do. “Tell me about what happened. I promise you won’t get into any trouble for what you say.”

I chew my lip as I weigh the truth of her words. She is not someone to lie, but can I really risk that?

“Believe it or not,” she continues. “I know Volcano High is far from being the ‘ideal’ school. And even with all my efforts, it misses things. That’s why I need students to inform me of those things.”

Hearing her sincerity, I guess I don’t have a choice. I’m already past the point of backing out. Besides, I’m pretty sure she just gave me a free pass to speak my mind, so speak it I will.

I take a deep breath, channeling the rawest of emotions to properly answer her. “Aside from not being able to walk two feet without being laughed at or mocked behind my back? I’d say my day was going swimmingly until that stuck up bitch decided to forcibly insert herself into my life, again.”

My plates clack together as my jaw clenches. “And even though I was in the right to defend myself, I was still the fucking one at fault. Those two-faced assholes don’t care who’s right and who’s wrong, so long as they have someone to blame for their own failings.”

My voice echoes as the pair of women go silent, Lucy grimacing. “Well… that’s certainly a robust explanation, but I suppose that only goes to show your frustration on the matter. Thank you for being so honest.”

Olivia nods. “And I appreciate someone who can talk so unapologetically. Reminds me of myself when I was younger. Feel better now that you let it out?”

“Maybe a little,” I admit. “Still makes me want to punch one of them in their deserving snouts.”

Olivia’s smile widens as she turns to Lucy, who is rubbing a temple with one hand, eyes closed. “It was Alice again, wasn’t it?”

“The one and only.” Just picturing her face makes me want to vomit.

“I’ve spoken to her several times about her behavior, including with her parents. I have no idea what I’m going to do with her.” Lucy mutters to herself as Olivia begins to snicker. She opens her eyes, glaring at the motherly baryonyx. “What’s so funny?”

“N-Nothing. *Snort* I just- *Cough*” She raises a hand to recompose herself. “As bad as I'm sure this all is, I just find it amusing that there will always be kids causing trouble. It’s strange being on the other end of it as adults. But you have to be honest, we weren’t any better.”

Lucy balks. “We weren’t that bad! Sure, we had a few issues here and there, but that is completely different.”

Olivia raises an eyebrow. “Oh really, Fang~. Why don’t you tell your student here just how wild you were back then yourself? I’m sure it would help boost her spirits to know. I could also call over your husband, and he would be more than willing to.”

Fang? What was she talking about? Was that an alias she went by when she was my age?

The more I thought about it, the more the realization slowly sank in as I saw Lucy’s scales flush with heat, trying her damn best not to break character. Hold the fuck on! Was our strict and hardass principal… a problem child? No way. But if so, then I have so much to gloat to Amber about later.

“Not. Another. Word.” Lucy hisses, wings flaring.

Olivia smirks, unimpressed by the hostility. “Fine. Then what about that Kenny kid you never quit complaining about, even after all these years? He’s probably graduated from college and started a family by this point.”

“Don’t get me started on that little demon! Even now, he haunts me.” Lucy angrily takes a bite out of her pizza, leaning heavily into the table on a propped elbow. “But he’s not nearly as bad as his younger cousin, Benny, as I am sure you are all too aware of.” She raises an obsidian talon to point to Olivia’s hair.

The baryonyx runs a hand through her short-styled hair, the ends still holding some evidence of being singed despite the effort to hide it. She frowns, annoyed. “Apparently, the safety video on paint wasn’t enough of a reminder to be careful. We had to evacuate the whole school, and I got an earful from my peers with that one.” She looks up towards the dark, grimy ceiling. “I can already hear Iadakan saying, ‘I told you so’. Miraculous bastard was always right.”

Olivia sighs. “I miss my long hair… And even if Inco doesn’t admit it, I know he does, too.”

It is now Lucy’s turn to smile. “It’ll grow back, eventually. Just give it time. In the meantime, you can try all those hairstyles you always wanted. Who knows, you might even find something else you like.”

“I don’t know,” Olivia says thoughtfully. “I’ve never been very adventurous once I found something that works. If only I could see it firsthand, then maybe I could decide.”

A frigid chill runs down my spine. At first I thought it was because I had noticed my pizza had gone cold at some point during this conversation, but now I realize it was because of a far more sinister reason. Lucy and Olivia turn to me in a unified motion, eyes keen as their lips curl up into horrific grins.

Lucy leans forward. “Say, Cynthia. Would you mind coming a little closer? You have quite the head of hair on your shoulders. It would be a shame not to use it, right~?”

Sweet Raptor Jesus. Is this the ill-fated disaster Amber has always warned me about? Spend too much time with her family and you’ll eventually get dragged down into a spiraling rabbit hole of unstoppable teasing? I thought she was being dramatic.

A sense of overwhelming pressure holds me in place as the two women watch me with amusement. My mouth cycles as I try to come up with something to say, but their predatory gazes leave me speechless.

And just when I think I will fall victim to their wills, my unlikely deus ex machina comes to my rescue… or damnation.

“Cynthia! Are you still not done eating? Finish up and get your sorry ass over here.” Amber calls out to me from inside the rink, dangling a spare pair of skates.

I blanch, but I guess that is better than what awaits me here. Taking the chance presented to me, I stuff my face with the stale, grease-ridden gluten and toss my plate onto the table between them.

“Sorry, looks like I've gotta go. Maybe some other time.”

I can hear one of them click their tongue in disappointment, followed closely by cackling as I swiftly spin on my heel and walk towards the rink. My eyes lock onto those disgusting skates, hoping they had at least been washed in the past decade. Highly doubtful.

How did I find myself in this cruel situation to begin with? I’ve never even skated before. Then again, if her buffoon of a Dad can at least stand, it can’t be that hard, right?

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

Gasping for air, I lay on my back just outside the rink, desperately trying to stave off what feels like an imminent collapse of my lungs. Grungy carpets can kiss my ass and whatever horrors remain trapped inside them. I don’t think I have the energy to lift even a finger.

How does Amber make it look so easy? All I did was go around incircles, and that alone took years off my life. Thank fuck Maria didn’t come, or else she wouldn’t let me live this down. At least I did better than her Dad who straight up face-planted into the boards after getting too much momentum and not realizing the obvious fact that he didn’t know how to stop.

Vision blurring, I breathe in harsh wheezes as a shadow looms over me. Amber’s infuriatingly smug grin consumes my view. “Whatcha doing down there, Cyn?”

I scowl. “Fuck… *Cough* You… *Wheeze* Bird-Brain.”

Amber raises an eyebrow. “Aw. Don’t be like that. You did really good, honest. I’m actually super impressed.” I may be on the verge of death, but I can still understand sarcasm when I hear it.

Mustering what remaining will I have, I lift a hand over my head and proceed to flip her off. The ptero laughs at my defiance before bending down to help me up.

After collapsing into a seat and downing three glasses of water, I only now begin to feel the dizziness start to dissipate. My breathing comes under my control once more, though my heart continues to pound in my chest. Glancing at a digital clock on the wall, I am shocked to see that three hours have passed by. It certainly didn’t feel that long, even with all the breaks. Guess time flies when you’re suffering.

I consider going to get a refill of my drink, but stop when I feel my pocket vibrate. I withdraw my phone to see a text from Mom. Opening it, she’s asking where I am as I’m not back by my usual time. My lips pull into a line as I take in my surroundings.

Finally, I respond with a patented ‘I’m alive. Get off my back already’. I can see her typing a response, only to delete it again. This happens several more times until she sends a Sailor Moon emoji giving a thumbs up.

I grunt, stuffing my phone back into my pocket, and move to stand. I have to brace against the chair for a moment, but eventually get my bearings back enough to support myself. Judging by how worn out everyone else looks, with most of them now casually chatting at their tables, it is safe to say that we’ll soon be calling it quits soon. Not that I am complaining.

Feeling in desperate need of some fresh air, I make my way towards the exit and proceed back into the hallway. My ears ring from the difference in sound, the scent of sweat and body odor also becoming less pungent. My tail drags along the floor until I push open the final barrier, leading me outside.

The evening sky presents a beautiful display of colors, as it is filled with a variety of orange and pink shades, which my eyes can easily adjust to. There is also a faint rumbling from the cars as they pass by on the nearby street, no doubt on their own way home. The further I move away from the building, the more I can feel the humid air on my scales. It’s refreshing.

The sound of dry grass crunching beneath my feet trails me as I walk over to the skate park and take a seat on the edge of one of the ramps leading into the bowl. My feet dangle, the cool concrete soothing to the touch. Overhead, a single plane passes by, leaving a streak behind it in the sky.

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs to their limit, then exhale slowly through my nose. The tension of the day finally releases, allowing me to feel all the aches and pains coursing throughout my body. And while I would rather be at home on my computer flaming anonymous shitposters… I have to admit this wasn’t so bad.

In the back of my mind, I can still hear the other’s laughter and see their smiling faces. Despite living in such a fucked up bitter world, people still find a way to enjoy themselves. A small smile creases my lips. That shit is infectious. It makes me think that maybe this could become a regular thing. Feeling this way. But what is it? Contentment? Ease? Dare I say happy? None of them sound right, yet also not too far off from the truth…

So then why do I still also feel so hollow? Like there is a pit inside my chest.

The momentary relief fades, leaving me surrounded by a familiar darkness. My fingers grip tightly on the edge of the ramp as the corners of my eyes blur. Instinctively, I shut them, hoping to block it out. It didn’t work. It never does.

The traces of cheerful laughter fall away too, being replaced with scornful whispers. Names and insults I’ve heard a dozen times over. Reject. Monster. Outcast. ‘Freak’. My eyes shoot open as that last one felt too real, and in that blueberry bitch’s voice no less.

I raise a hand to my weary head. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” No response comes, of course. Leaving me in utter isolation.

At least, until I hear the sound of footsteps approaching behind me. They are coming from the direction of the building. I swear to fucking God, if it’s Amber looking to drag me back there for one final outing, I am going to make her eat dirt!

To my surprise, the footsteps stop just behind me and to the right, accompanied by a male voice. “Seems I’m not the only one looking to take a break. I have to admit, I kinda expected you to have just left at this point without saying a word.”

Glaring over my shoulder, I see Greene standing there, hands in his pockets and looking up at the sky. I grunt. “Just goes to show what you know about me, Ass Hat. What about you? Figured you’d be too busy moping all alone in a corner playing army men.”

I can see his features harden. A typical reaction. Seems this ‘conversation’ is already on the fast track to being another forgettable encounter. He’ll probably try one final jab and then leave. They always do. Our worlds are completely different, like oil and water, unable to mix.

He sighs heavily. “As approachable as a cactus as always, I see. I’ll never understand why Amber insists on hanging out with you so much.”

“Why the fuck do you care who she hangs out with? Don’t you have your own groupies to pester? But I guess you’re used to sticking your beak in other people’s business, given how obnoxiously long it is.”

For the first time since I can remember, Greene looks me in the eye and does not shy away. They’re emerald green, reflecting the setting sun’s light. Opening his mouth to speak, I reflexively prepare a myriad of comebacks and insults to put him in his place. However, he shuts it again, shaking his head.

Gradually, he steps up to the ledge and takes a seat beside me before resting his elbows on his knees. He left more than an arm’s length of distance between us, something I can at least appreciate. Getting a closer look now, I can make out the hints of dark bags under his eyes from what I can only guess as lack of sleep.

“My beak is average size, I’ll have you know,” he says with a hint of irritation. “Don’t get me wrong; I only asked out of curiosity. My sister can do as she wants. Raptor Jesus knows no one can stop her, not even me. She’s way too stubborn.”

I grunt. “Way to state the obvious. I have no idea what goes on inside that empty head of hers most of the time. It’s like she’s got one train of thought going and drags everyone else along for the ride.”

Greene sits back on his palms. “Believe me, you don’t know the half of it. This one time, we were out for food and this opossum came out of nowhere. The thing hissed at us and stole the last of Amber’s fries. There were only a few left, so I told her to just let it take them.”

He chuckles. “But Amber wasn’t having any of that. Next thing I know, she’s on her hands and knees, hissing back. I cannot tell you how ridiculous it looked watching her chase after that opossum with fiery intent to reclaim her food.”

I blink, attempting to picture his story. “No way.” I say, snorting. “She’s an airhead, but she couldn’t possibly be that stupid.”

“It’s true,” he insists, wings flapping as he throws one hand into the air. “Or better yet, the time when our family was at an amusement park and we got on that spinning teacup ride. She spun that wheel so hard I had to hang on for dear life. Nearly fell out at one point. Needless to say, neither of us were in any condition to go on any more rides for the rest of the day and cut our visit short.”

My lips curl upwards as I find that a far more believable scene. “I’d pay anything to have seen that. All action before thinking of the consequences. I’m surprised she managed to-” The words fall dead in my throat as I narrow my eyes suspiciously.

What the hell am I doing?! Since when did this become some cliché rom-com heart-to-heart garbage? Greene glances over at me, raising an eyebrow at my sudden pause. What’s his game? Is he trying to make me lower my guard? Either I’m losing my touch, or he’s more dangerous than I gave him credit for.

I continue to watch him intently, though he shows no signs of pushing me to speak. It’s hard to say what his intentions are, the hidden agenda behind his words. There always is. He won’t fool me. Best to play it safe.

Clearing my throat, I shuffle over to increase the distance between us. “You’re a strange one, you know that?”

Greene shrugs. “I’ve been called worse things. Besides, my Mom tells me it’s a good thing to be myself, regardless of what people think. Helps keep me away from ‘blending in with the masses’ or something. She’s always been such a helicopter parent. It doesn't help that we can't escape her watch at home or at school.”

“Is that why you didn’t fight back when you were getting your ass handed to you on a silver platter by that crimson fuck-nugget? Because your Mom wouldn’t approve of it?” I look ahead at the horizon. “I didn’t take you for such a mama’s boy.”

“That’s…” He pauses, stiffening. “You saw that, huh?”

My tail sways across the pavement behind me as I remember watching the pitiful sight. “I did, and I gotta say, it was pretty fucking pathetic. I’ll never understand why someone would so spinelessly take a beating and not stand up for themselves.”

His previously neutral expression sours, shoulders hunching over. “So you’re just like the rest of them.” His muttered words ignited a fire in my gut.

“Excuse me?! What do you mean ‘like the rest of them’?! I’m nothing like any of those brainwashed losers. Take that back!”

He doesn’t, only closing his eyes and sighing. My plates clack together, sounding similar to a disturbed beehive. And just when I think I’m going to have to make him, he reaches into his pocket and fiddles with something inside.

“...Tell me, what would you have done differently?” He opens his eyes again and meets my gaze with equal intensity.

My jaw clenches as I imagine exactly what I would have done. “For starters, I certainly wouldn’t have stood by and let him walk all over me. Once they get a taste for your weakness, they will hound you until there is nothing left, then move on to the next victim. It’s best to end it so they never try again.”

“Is that your reason for spitting on that girl? Because it was your best option to ‘end it’? Amber mentioned what happened, but she has a tendency to be overdramatic." Greene stares more intently at me, almost scrutinizingly so. “Am I right?” What is wrong with this guy? Is this some kind of interrogation? Why does he care so much about such insignificant details?

“...She had it coming…” I say coldly, hand curling into a fist.

“Did she, though?”

“What the fuck is your point?!” I shout, slamming my tail against the concrete, thagomizers scraping the surface. “Are you saying I should have let her off the hook?! I bet she’s been given everything she ever wanted without having to struggle for it. If anything, I did her a favor! Teaching her a lesson not to pick a fight she can’t win.”

Greene does not reply immediately, instead stretching his wings out. Due to the color of them, it was hard to see at first, but now I could make out the hints of fresh bruises forming along the leather… as well as older ones. Clearly not from today’s fight. And there were so many. How did he get them? It looks like he challenged an entire street gang and lost. Badly.

Pulling his wings close again, he removes his hand from his pocket to reveal a small colorless figurine, about the size of his palm. I quickly realize that it was the same one he had been working on at the table while eating. A mech-looking model with half the armor missing, revealing the connections and inner workings.

He rubs a thumb over it. “I’m saying that I don’t agree with your justification for doing what you did. Violence shouldn’t be the only way to resolve disputes.”

“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion then! Besides, like you’re one to talk. How is it any better to lay down and take everything thrown at you, then just move on?! To pretend it didn’t happen?” Anger swells inside my chest, but all that my tone conveys is skepticism.

I point an accusatory finger at him. “What the hell makes you so special that you think you can come out of nowhere and lecture me on how to live my life?!”

“Lecture? What? No, I-” He lifts a hand to his head, knitting his brow in frustration. “Damn it… Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off like that.” A grimace mars his face, wings sagging. “I just don’t like hurting people in order to try to make myself feel better. I can take the humiliation and the beatings. They’ll go away, eventually.”

I scoff, lowering my hand. “Not if you end up in the hospital because of it, or worse.” Though I can barely stomach looking at him right now, I can’t help but find my eyes wandering to take in the object in his hand. “So what’s the deal with the action figure? Don’t tell me you’re one of those soy boys who still play with toys.”

“This?” Greene holds up the figurine so that I can see it better. “It’s a small project of mine. I find it helps me think. I like being able to see how things work, beyond just the surface, I mean. It makes me feel that I can understand it better. Almost like I can grasp the reason it works the way it does.” He lets his hand fall to his lap, looking up at the sky. “Perhaps that’s how I view people too.”

“Sounds a little too optimistic if you ask me,” I say, leaning back. “And what if there isn’t a reason? What if people just suck and act like pigheaded jerks because they can?”

He glances at me, with a sly smirk on his beak. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion then, huh?” My eye twitches as I growl. Greene chuckles softly, a distinctly different vibe from how he was seconds ago. Then, his eyes harden. “There is always a reason.”

Letting his answer hang in the air between us, Greene places the figurine back in his pocket and moves to stand. He glances towards the building. “I wasn't lying when I said I needed the fresh air. That place is always so stuffy. Though I admit I came over for another reason.” He glances down at me. “Dad actually wanted me to find you since we’ll be heading out soon. Apparently, Amber promised we would drive you home. It’s getting late.”

I also stand, crossing my arms. “I don’t remember asking for a ride. It already sounds bad enough getting trapped in some hot box with all your warm blood. Thanks, but I think I’ll walk. Tell Amber I said I’ll see her at school tomorrow.”

Greene nods, as if expecting my answer. Turning, he makes his way towards the parking lot as a strong gust of wind whips past us. The sensation of it scouring across my scales makes me growl in annoyance as my arms burn with their customary itchiness. Unable to resist the urge this time, I scratch at the dry patches of scale, perhaps a little too forcefully as a few of them fall off and land by my feet.

“Here.” Looking up, Greene had turned back and was now handing me a bottle of lotion. He nods at the state of my arms. “There isn’t much left, but you can have the rest, if you want.”

My gaze bounces between him and the bottle. “Why the fuck do you have this? Don’t tell me you’re offering me your lube for jerking off. That’s pretty damn gross, man.”

He rolls his eyes. “My hands get raw when I’m working on those figurines from time to time, alright? Look, if you don’t want it, I’ll just-”

As he begins to withdraw the bottle, I quickly snatch it from his hand and pop open the lid. In a matter of seconds, the lotion meets my scales, and a wave of relief washes over me. Fucking finally!

Green smirks, making me click my tongue. “Fuck off! You have no idea how annoying this is. And for the record, I’m keeping the bottle.”

“Go for it. I have more at home.” He waves dismissively, turning away again. “I’ll tell the others you plan to head back on your own, but…” He hesitates. “Make sure you text Amber that you got home safe. The last thing I need is getting blamed for a missing person report.”

Without giving me time to respond, Greene stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks off. The rest of his family will still be waiting for him, and me, at least until he gives them the news. It is only thanks to the headlights of their car that I know they haven’t abandoned him as the sky has grown significantly darker, with the wind now adopting a bite to it.

For a moment, I consider rescinding my decision and taking them up on their offer, but a sharp jerk of my head clears away those pathetic thoughts. Yeah right. Like they actually want me in that cramped-ass car of theirs with them. They’re just being polite…

My feet carry me back across the skate park and into the open field. I kick a few pebbles and sticks along the way as they bounce around until veering off in a direction I do not have the patience to go and retrieve them. My hand still clutches the bottle Greene gave me, which I raise to inspect as a distraction.

I consider whether this is also part of his hidden agenda, but can’t see a point in it. He didn’t have to give it to me. Probably just wanted to pawn off his garbage onto me so he didn’t have to walk ten feet to the nearest garbage can.

Sighing, I close my eyes and go back through our conversation. All that bullshit about reasons and seeing some kind of ‘bigger picture’. Only the privileged get to talk about shit like that. Not us who have to scrape from the bottom to survive.

And yet… Why does it feel like he wasn't saying it to spite me? As if he actually understood? I suppose all those bruises aren’t just for show.

Still…

My grip on the bottle tightens as I decide to push aside those thoughts for the night. I’m too tired to dwell on crap that doesn't matter. I should be focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and keeping my eyes forward. No need to get distracted. I know I’m right.

And it’s a long walk home.