# Another Fang Chapter 1txt

This can't be happening.
This can't be happening.
This can't be happening.
No matter how many times the magic phrase ran through her mind, the reality stayed the same. Fang sat in her bathroom, staring at the tiny object in her hands. The cheap pink plastic threatened to crack under the pressure of her tightening grip. Two. There were two, right there, to be sure. She blinked, rubbing her eyes. Maybe it was an optical illusion. Maybe there was something in her eyes. It was three am, maybe her mind was playing tricks and there was really only one. Fang closed her eyes and took a few breaths. Maybe it was broken? But what were the odds two out of the same box would be busted? Fang reopened her eyes and was confronted with the harsh reality which she promptly rejected, sending the drug store pregnancy test shattering against the wall. She took out another one, followed the instructions, and waited patiently.
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Two bars.
She started to hyperventilate. Tears welled up, and then ran down her cheeks. She could almost feel the droplets hitting her shaking hands, and could almost see them hitting the shaking screen. It was hard to tell because at the moment, she couldn't feel or see much of anything anymore.
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'Mom and Dad are gonna kill me.'
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"Fang!"
The sudden sound startled the ptero who glanced up and met the eyes of Trish.
The four of them - Fang, Trish, Reed, and Anon - were sitting down eating lunch at the school cafeteria. Reed had gotten up to get thirds, and Anon was busy as usual checking his phone.
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"What?" asked Fang.
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"What do you mean, 'What'? You keep zoning out! You've barely even eaten! What's with you?" Trish demanded. "Are you even in any condition for our band practice?"
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Fang looked down at her half eaten pizza (which was cold and hard when she bought it), and the salad that she had been stabbing at for the last five minutes (could you blame her? the lettuce was all wilted). "I'm just thinking about some stuff right now..." Fang started cautiously. "It's nothing, I'll be fine. Which song are we doing this time?" She finished, putting on a smile to placate the Triceratops. Trish, thoroughly placated by the lie, went back to smiling and answered the question - and continued with whatever it was she was talking about before. Fang already zoned her out, not intent on actually listening. She had more important things to worry about.
Do I tell him? She wondered, throwing a sidelong glance at Anon. Her boyfriend. Her mate. The self-correction and implications of that word made her feel jittery inside. It was like a trillion little butterflies were flying around in her stomach and throat, threatening to trigger a gag reflex and make her spit out whatever small amount of the poor school lunch she had managed to actually get down. 'I should really tell him.' But how would she say it? 'Hey dweeb, you're gonna be a father.' No. 'You were right, we should've used a condom! Haha!' Fuck no. 'Hypothetically if you got me pregnant, you would still stay right?' Just stop.
Fang pushed the plate away from her, she lost her appetite. Inching closer to anon, she snuck a glance at his phone. She saw pages of text, some red and some green, and pictures she didn't recognize. Must be that forum he mutters about. 'He smells good today.' She breathes in his scent, his natural human smell mixing with whatever deodorant he used this time. It filled her head, and she lost herself in thought. Maybe this isn't so bad. She could stay like this forever, really. What was she worried about? It's obvious they'd be together forever. Her hand inched towards his, centimeter by centimeter. Almost there. Almost. Almost...
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The alarm rings, back to class.
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Like everything else that day, class came and went. As did the next, and the next, and then Fang was home. She laid down on her bed, looking at the cheap, pink pregnancy test. She had kept it ever since then, though in the heat of the moment she had almost broke it like the one before. Two little bars, that's all it took to make a difference in her life. Two vertical lines, and her life would never be the same. Her grip tightened. As if she wasn't going through enough already, this had to happen. She was already stressed about the band, stressed about trish, stressed about her family. She really didn't need this too. A horrible thought dawned on her. 'It would be so easy...' She squeezed her eyes shut and briefly considered it, the trip to the clinic. The mental tangent playing out in her mind. Sitting down in the waiting room, maybe reading a magazine laying on the table. Trying not to make eye contact with any of the other expecting teenagers, soon to be expecting nothing but a bill for the service. She pictured the walking with the doctor. How easy it would be, to just... do that instead. Nobody would ever have to know. But she would know. Years later when she and anon were married, and they had a child for real, nobody but her and Raptor Jesus would know that the sweet little bundle of joy had once had a sibling.
No. She couldn't do it. She pushed the thought violently out of her mind, ejecting it out of the airlock of thought and consideration. Fuck that. The shame and embarrassment would be bad enough, the doctors seeing her and knowing her and judging her. But even past that, she couldn't live with herself. Even if lately she had had doubts about the little wooden crucified raptor hanging around the house, she had it instilled in her that life was precious. She felt sick even considering it. It was Anon's kid too, he would have the right to know. She'd tell him, she promised herself. Eventually. She looked at the object in her hands once more before putting it back in her desk drawer for safekeeping; hidden amongst sheets of musical notes and songs meant for Wwurm Drama. She stroked her wings absentmindedly, a prelude to the terrible habit she'd been forming. It wasn't healthy to pluck and rip her feathers, but some days it was the only thing that let her feel anything but numbness anymore. It had been that way for months. Until Anon had come along.
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He changed everything.
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He was so cute, so handsome, so considerate. So quiet. Quiet when she talked, quiet during class, quiet when she and Trish and Reed would get into a squabble. He was a silent observer, and she liked that about him. Trish would always start something, poking and prodding and irritating until she got a reaction. Reed would talk nonsense, too high on drugs to care what jumbled mess came out of his mouth. Mom and Dad would talk, and talk, and talk. What's she doing? Why is she like this? Is it someone at school? They loved her so much, why does she treat them like this? Whinging and whining until she mentally tuned them out. But never Anon. She could listen to him speak forever. Anon would sit there and let her vent her frustrations, giving a hug or a nod of his head. If she was lucky, he'd even place his hand on hers. Why couldn't more people be like him? Fang sighed, dropping her hand. She let the handful of bloody feathers fall out of her grasp and onto the pile that had been forming at the side of her bed. She had gotten distracted and hadn't realized how much she had pulled. Geez, it looked like a crime scene in her. Mom and Dad would most definitely freak out if they saw. But then again, what don't they freak out about nowadays?