Chapter 7: Jacked Up
"Lucy, huh?" I raise an eyebrow "You look an awful lot like an old friend of mine."
Fang releases my hand, her sharp nails tickling my skin. She looks thoughtful and taps her chin a few times, appearing to ponder something.
"That's certainly a coincidence." She quickly adopts a grin "Why don't you tell me about them?"
"well, They were easily the most talented musician I knew-"
Fang snorted, interrupting me "If that's the case then you should listen to them these days."
I was admittedly interested but I couldn't resist the chance to call her on the mistake "So you know Fang too, Lucy?"
"Alright, you can stop calling me that now" Fang groaned, screwing her face up in disgust "makes me sound like some old lady."
I snickered at her reaction "Fang, I hate to be the one to tell you this but you do sound like an old lady."
As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted it. I had grown so comfortable I didn't even think about teasing her. There was a moment just long enough for my heart to drop over the horrible mistake before Fang's cackling caught me off guard.
"No thanks to you!" She ramped up her natural rasp to comical levels "who's been feeding me smokes the past month?"
"It's really not that bad" I reassured her, stifling a laugh.
"Oh it is, but at least I'm not alone" She flicks her finger up and down, gesturing to my clothes "You look like someone's dad! Where did you even get this stuff?"
I glanced at my attire, Just simple brown slacks, and a white dress shirt only buttoned up halfway. I grimace as I notice a beer stain marring the otherwise pristine shirt. When did that get there? More importantly, why had I not fixed this shirt by now?
"What's wrong with them?" I grumble as I fiddle with the buttons.
"You look like you lost your soul in a cubicle" Fang looked me over once more "that didn't actually happen, right?"
I scoffed at the thought and shook my head "Nah, you think Trish and I could look this good if we sat down all day?"
The primal urge bubbled within me, something inherent and masculine. Perhaps it was the alcohol that hadn't fully left my system or perhaps it was the presence of a female in my midst but I couldn't resist it. My arm curled, my fist clenched and I flexed for all I was worth. I shot Fang a smirk behind the bulging bicep, I could practically envision the anime-esque glimmer on my teeth as I did. Unlike my old clothes, this new shirt was well fitted so that rather than hiding the muscle it stretched and teased the physical perfection beneath. Oh yeah, I was looking good!
"Down boy" Fang remarked dismissively but she wasn't fooling anyone with that smile.
Chuckling and a little embarrassed I quit showing off and actually answered her "Trish is a personal trainer, remember? She hired me on as a sort of in the field secretary that her clients can punch."
Fang brought the cigarette to her lips instead of responding, clearly lost in thought about something.
"You know, like boxing? She's got a program for it" I threw a few half-hearted punches at the air to emphasize.
That seemed to snap her out of her reverie "Trainer, huh? She always was good at telling people what to do."
"That's what I said!"
We shared a good-natured laugh at her expense, at least, I think we did. Something in Fang's expression seemed... Dark.
Now that the pressures of our conversation had eased, it felt like a time capsule back to my youth. If I closed my eyes it was all too easy to imagine Fang and I back in school, like we never missed a beat, like we never spent years bitter and alone. Oh wow, closing my eyes turned out to be a horrible idea. The exhaustion suddenly caught up with me all at once, I checked my phone for the time. How did we manage to spend an actual hour on this porch? A titanic yawn gripped me, it's not like I got many hours of sleep to begin with. Fang wasn't safe either as once mine finished she too was forced to yawn. Even as sleepy as I was I couldn't help but be impressed, fang had one hell of a yawn with a snout that long. Looking at the time again I felt guilty. It wasn't really my place to invite her in but it would feel wrong to send her off in a cab.
I nod my head towards the door of the home "You wanna come in? I doubt Trish would mind."
Fang hesitated for a moment, staring at the door with apprehension before she sighed "Guess it's time then, I was sort of enjoying the night being just the two of us."
Seems like Bill Withers hasn't left me, even five years later.
"I meant to sleep, Fang. Trish drank a hell of a lot more than I did. We shouldn't wake her."
Plus I still hadn't decided what to do with... Us? Were we an us? This is what I'm talking about.
Once she nodded her assent we both stood up from the porch step and stretched away the aches that had accumulated from such a poor seat. My spine popped audibly as I finally corrected my posture, good lord I hadn't sat that hunchbacked since I spent my days shitposting for hours on end. It's a good thing some kind posters made posture checks or I might have done permanent damage. Fang looked like she was enjoying her stretch as well, She even splayed her wings out to their full length. The sight left my heart sinking, I had caught bits and pieces of their condition before but now I could plainly see just how bad they were. It wasn't just that she was missing feathers, she was missing damn near half her wings. I could vividly remember being wrapped in them like a blanket but now? What few feathers she had remaining hung limply from the skin and close to the bone, she could cover my shoulders at best. Fang caught me staring but neither of us said a word, as desperate as I was to talk to her, I knew it was too much for one night.
Instead, I carefully opened the door for her, I even held my tongue regarding any ladies' first remarks. Fang seemed to read my mind regardless and rolled her eyes but still went in without complaint, following after her I saw something in the last glimmer of moonlight before she was consumed by the shadows of the home. Her tail, poking out of her jeans, had the barest hint of black marking near the base. Surely that wasn't a tattoo? But what else could it be? I shook my head and gingerly closed the door behind me, that was a mystery that would haunt me for a while. Fang paused in the living room, she crossed her arms and whistled.
"Huh, guess you weren't kidding" despite her hushed tone she sounded impressed.
Stepping next to her I could see she was looking at the pile of empty beer cans left scattered on and around the table. God damn, you never really knew just how much beer was in a case until it was empty.
"Would you believe Trish downed most of that?" I whispered to her, people were sleeping after all.
"She get too drunk to leave you a blanket? Harsh." Fang whispered back, looking towards the sole couch in the room.
"What?" I asked before the realization hit me, I was totally sleeping on the couch and not in Trish's bed. Yep. Definitely.
"Uh, yeah, you can have the couch" I offered, hoping I didn't sound nervous as I slid into the same armchair I was in earlier.
Fang promptly slumped onto the couch belly first, guess that made sense with the wings and all. She grabbed a couch cushion and crossed her arms beneath it, I'd be damned if she didn't look comfortable. Wish I could say the same, sadly this wasn't one of those fancy chairs where you could pull a lever and gain a footrest. I had slept in some pretty shitty conditions back in the navy but I wasn't about to repeat them as a civvie. Gingerly moving cans from the desk to the floor to make space for my feet I could hear Fang snicker over the scraping of cans.
"Remember, no take-backs" she mumbled from her makeshift pillow, sounding very pleased with herself.
I didn't deign that with a response, I was already starting to regret being the gentleman. My back certainly wasn't going to be thanking me in the morning but I guess Fang would have had it worse. Propping my feet up on the newly cleared space I gave one last stretch for the night. With a pleased sigh, I leaned into the plush seat and finally gave in to the demands of my sore, tired eyes.
"Hey, what's that?"
I barely managed to force my eyes open, Fang was pointing towards the smoke machine that Reed brought. Unable to fight another yawn, I informed her as much.
I could hear Fang 'hmm' thoughtfully but it was far too late to talk to her about it, what was so interesting about a smoke machine anyways? Thankfully, that seemed to be the only question she had. At long last, I could finally fall into the velvet embrace of slumber.
My dreams were an eclectic mess, swirls of vivid shades and sounds that kept me company in inky blackness. The colors joined the ethereal sensations to solidify into something tangible. A spray of ice water chilling me to the bone. A seductive cloud of choking smoke that promised I didn't need to breathe. A leash pulled taut around my neck as gray feathers fluttered down from an invisible sky. A ship held aloft by a sea of faceless figures with one twinkling star beckoning in the night sky. A clay bird adorned with a spider web of fractures resting in a shallow basin of liquid gold. A blinding white cage trapping me with a thickly-maned lion about to pounce. Eventually, I was left alone in the tenebrous realm of dreams with nothing to keep me focused. Little by little the consciousness I retained had begun to slip until the staccato bellow of a firearm pierced the darkness. Its terrifying note intensifying into a shrill scream until the unbearable sound had begun to rattle my skull.
I shot out of my chair, taking great gasps of air. My heart was hammering in my chest and sweat had overtaken me in my sleep. That awful note I heard continued into the waking world but had distorted into something less menacing. I could see Tana in the kitchen, bending down and retrieving a dropped spoon. I relaxed as I realized that horrid sound was well and truly gone. She just woke me up from a nightmare that's all. As my heart gradually settled, the details of my dream faded away from me. I was surprised, usually, I didn't dream at all, for good reason it seems. Faint rays of sunlight were filtering through the pulled blinds signaling that it was morning. The ache in the back of my eyes seemed to say otherwise, well if Trish wasn't awake then I didn't have to be either. I leaned back in my seat, reveling in the fact that I didn't have to get up for school as soon as the sun rose unlike certain people in the house.
Once I closed my eyes, however, my stomach grumbled. I stubbornly stayed where I was, it wouldn't be the first time I ate a sleep sandwich. Yet I couldn't relax between the clink of Tana's spoon against a bowl and my stomach doing its best attempt to eat itself. Ugh, Did Rosa and Stella have to eat everything last night? With a groan I stood and headed towards the kitchen, Tana barely paid me any mind. Looking at the disheveled girl I doubt I looked much better, she had thrown on the baggiest clothes she could and pulled her hair to the side rather than style it. Tana stared blankly at her phone as she slowly chewed what was likely the only sugary thing in the household. Opening a few cabinets proved my suspicion true, I liked whey and oatmeal as much as the next guy but sometimes you just crave something with, uh, taste.
"You mind if I have a bowl of that?" I asked tentatively.
Tana grunted in reply, good enough for me then. With a bowl and spoon in hand, I set up my own breakfast of deliciously unhealthy cereal. While the first bite was heaven in my mouth I felt a little guilty to break my meal plan. Worse, the thought made me embarrassed, A grown man really shouldn't worry so much about eating cereal. I soothed the pain with another bite of Chieftan Crunch, The colorful box art exclaimed 'crunchatize me, Grug!' How the hell did something like this even get sold in this day and age? Rather than dwell on that I looked across to Tana. I should say something to her, Trish and I are on good terms. Might as well make the attempt to be on good terms with her family too.
"How's school going?"
The glare she gave me was absolutely withering, I guess I deserved it for doing the most boring adult thing ever.
I held up my hands in surrender "alright, fine. You got me, that was a dumb question."
That at least made her smile but rather than reply she grabbed another spoonful of delicious racism and returned to her phone.
"So you knew Fang?" I tried again.
"Mhm" was her non-committal response, a good start.
I tapped the table as I thought about how to get her to open up. Her hoodie was unzipped exposing an interesting shirt underneath, the simple black shirt had some rather distinctive letters across the chest. I swear I had seen them before but it was hard to tell what it said beneath the jacket. The realization struck me like lightning, that was a VVURM DRAMA shirt! No wonder it was so baggy, that must have been Trish's shirt from high school!
"So, What was your favorite song? I'm partial to Ballad Of The Boot myself."
Tana paused mid-bite, putting the spoon down. The tiny triceratops looked at me with new eyes, Maybe even a hint of respect?
"The Hitler song with the really long name was their best work" Tana said with certainty, clearly she had thought about this before.
It took me a moment to put the memories together, the Hitler song? God damn it Reed, who let that man name anything?
"A lady of excellent taste, what else do you listen to?" I smiled as Tana started listing off bands. Hook, line, and sinker.
For once, Tana and I had a pleasant conversation. Truth be told I was lucky to know what genre she was even talking about let alone any particular band or song. Thankfully, I was Anon Y. Mous the bullshitter extraordinaire, and managed to navigate the conversation without embarrassing myself. I found it a bit funny, I was never that into music yet so many of the people in my life were. While I nodded along to Tana explaining exactly why some bands latest album lacked soul I resolved to change that. Maybe I'll try listening to some of the stuff she was talking about? I definitely needed to practice my singing on more than just Sunday too. When Tana checked her phone again she cursed and snatched up the backpack left leaning against the table. It was then that I realized I was missing an opportunity.
"Before you go, do you know why Fang and Trish stopped talking?" I called out as she was halfway to the door.
Tana paused, glancing at the sleeping ptero before she turned back to me
"Not really" She shook her head for emphasis "see ya later, Mr. Mous."
I wasn't so sure if I believed her but the idea that I had become a 'Mr. Mous' was too distracting. At least Tana couldn't see me die on the inside when she turned and left for school.
That sobering thought sat with me as I finished the rest of the sugary cereal, had to devour the evidence after all. With my conversation partner gone to school and Fang still fast asleep on the couch, I turned to the time-honored tradition of phone posting. Still had a few hours until Trish and I absolutely had to be somewhere but she'd certainly want to talk with Fang. Not to mention the most obvious thing, Trish was a woman, which meant she took absolutely ages to get ready for anything. I didn't actually know that for certain but stereotypes existed for a reason, right? Deciding to err on the side of caution I set a pot of coffee for the three of us. Giving it a bit more thought I poured a glass of water as well, Trish was definitely going to need it when she woke up. Frankly, it was a small miracle I managed to get through the morning without a hangover myself.
I considered sneaking down the hall but it's not like Tana and I were trying to be all that quiet, Fang slept like a rock it seems. Water in hand I pushed open the door to Trish's room and was immediately caught off guard. I was too drunk and, uh, preoccupied to notice last night but it was jarring just how personalized her room was compared to the rest of the house. She had a trophy on a small table next to the bed and even some medals hanging off the bedpost. A pair of heavy dumbells lay next to a standing mirror and stereo, an old XL VVURM DRAMA shirt was pinned to the wall above the dresser, just below it were framed photos. The most obvious thing of all was the smell, the air itself was scented heavily with Trish. Stepping into her room It was hard not to feel like an invader of some kind, that I didn't belong here. Walking around to her side of the bed I paused when those pictures became clear. There was one where she had a gloved hand held up by a referee but by and large, most of these were memories from her childhood. I could feel the frown on my face when I saw just how many of them featured Fang, both as a child and as the teenage girl I fell in love with.
Trish really never stopped being her friend, what on earth could have caused them to break apart as they did? One photo, in particular, caught my eye, picking it up left me drowning in melancholy. It was VVURM DRAMA's big break at Dino-Moe's, Based on the angle of the picture it looked like Moe himself took this. Their performance was amazing until I went and ruined it by fucking with the cables, ending the show before their finale. I put the frame back on the dresser before I was well and truly lost in my memories. Turning my back on the relics of the past I walked towards sleeping beauty herself. Trish had unconsciously taken full advantage of my absence, she had splayed herself fully across the bed. Her hair was a haphazard mess, her pillow was damp with drool and the silence of the room was broken by intermittent snoring. Alright, maybe beauty wasn't a very apt description but I wasn't going to hold it against her after last night. I almost didn't want to wake her, but I knew she'd be upset if I didn't. Reaching out and grasping her shoulder I shook it gently to no avail, Giving a firmer second shake achieved similar results. Only one thing left to do before drastic measures then.
"Hey, c'mon sleepy head. Time to get up." I whispered into her ear
Finally, those lavender lashes of hers fluttered open, at least for a brief moment before she screwed them tight again. Trish let out a long, pained groan as she tightened into a ball, tail curling around herself protectively.
"Anon... I'm going to die..." she mumbled beneath her pillow.
I did my absolute best not to laugh at her but still couldn't resist chuckling.
"You're not going to die Trish" I patted her shoulder reassuringly "here, I got you some water."
Despite my offering, Trish remained stubbornly curled beneath the covers.
"It'll make you feel better" I coaxed her, shaking the liquid audibly within its glass.
That seemed to do it, Trish reluctantly shed the warmth of her blanket and took the drink from me. I winced when I saw her dress, it was clearly a tight fit, and the... Rigors... Of last night proved too much for it. The expensive fabric was stretched and torn irreparably in several places. Not that Trish seemed to mind, she was far too busy draining the glass like it was the last thing she'd ever drink. When the last drop was gone she deposited the empty glass on the table and promptly fell back into the bed, eyes closed.
"Best. Assistant. Ever." she mumbled, barely audible.
I rolled my eyes, I'm pretty sure treating my boss's hangover wasn't in the job description. No better time than now to broach the subject of Fang, had to do it before Trish fell back asleep. Deep breaths, Anon.
"Listen, Trish. I've got a bit of a surprise for you"
She didn't open her eyes but a smile pulled at her lips, coyly replying with a simple "hmm?"
"Fang's here."
"WHAT!?" She shouted, shooting halfway out of bed.
A hand quickly went to her head, face scrunched up in pain. The hangover punishing her for the noise.
I let her recover before whispering "I bumped into her a while ago, she's... Not in a great place but we've been talking."
"But- You-" Trish struggled to find the words before a determination took over "I'm talking with her."
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed but I held out a hand to stop her
"She's asleep, Trish." I gestured towards her bathroom "Why don't you get cleaned up, I'll get breakfast ready."
Trish looked like she wanted to argue, in fact, I knew she was going to. If she got a word in I'd never convince her otherwise.
"Don't forget we've got work today, she'll still be there when you're done."
A few seconds passed before Trish eventually sighed "you're right."
I stood back to let her up, which she managed to do after only a little stumbling. Once she found her footing, Trish grabbed my collar and yanked me down to her eye level to place a quick peck on my lips.
"So responsible" she whispered fondly.
I didn't get a chance to respond as she let me go right after and sashayed over to the bathroom, tail swaying back and forth languidly. For the best honestly, I doubt I would have been able to respond to that without putting my foot in my mouth. I headed to the kitchen once I heard her start the shower, torn between elation and doubt. Why couldn't I just have straightforward feelings for once? Thankfully, I had another excuse not to focus on actually resolving them. Raiding through Trish's pantry I couldn't find much suitable for breakfast, guess bacon and eggs didn't work great for an herbivore. Thankfully however I found that classic box that no household was complete without, pancakes! With that decided I set about preparing the table, humming a tune as I worked. Having finished the first batch I turned back to the kitchen table to set the plate down only to find Fang sitting there. She was nursing a cup of coffee that I placed earlier, how the hell did she manage to do that without me noticing?
The tired ptero smiled knowingly as if she knew exactly what I was thinking.
"If you tell me how you did that, I'll give you these pancakes."
Fang didn't even look up from her coffee "You'll give them to me anyways"
Damn, she was right. What was this Jedi mind trick? Fang smiled smugly when I placed the syrupy plate in front of her until she noticed something
"Where's my fork?"
"You never asked for one" I shrugged, smiling as I returned to the stove
I expected her to argue, at least complain a little, but there was silence. Unable to control myself I had to look back, Fang sat there with a rolled-up pancake in her hand looking straight at me. As soon as she had my attention she opened that cavernous snout of hers and devoured the entire pastry with a single snap of her jaws. Fang, what the hell?
"Fang, what the hell?" I echoed my thoughts.
She looked impossibly self-satisfied as she chewed. Alright, fine, that was pretty funny.
"I'm not interrupting anything am I?" A tentative voice called our attention.
Both Fang and I turned to see Trish standing uncomfortably at the entrance to the kitchen, her hair still damp from the shower. I half expected her to dress up for meeting Fang again but her choice of attire was a simple tracksuit that I'd seen her in plenty of times. She didn't even bother zipping up the jacket, a black crop top lying beneath it preserving her modesty.
"Oh! You forgot this in my room, Anon" Trish decided to push past the awkwardness by making her way to me instead, I could see my discarded and forgotten vest folded over her arm.
I couldn't help it, I looked at Fang. She glanced between Trish and myself, clearly putting everything together. Trish all but spelled it out after all. Trish handed over the vest with a nervous smile, looking at me for comfort while she steeled her nerves.
"Hi Fang" Trish said at last, turning to greet her
"Hi Trish" Fang replied, her tone as perfectly neutral as her face.
"So!" I cleared my throat "How about breakfast then?"
Trish sat down and shot me another smile, I was unsure whether it was for helping break the ice or for the food.
Sitting down myself I feel like I didn't do much for the atmosphere. It was still thick with tension and expectation, Trish seemed unsure what to say while Fang didn't look eager to speak at all. Guess it's up to me then.
"What kept you from showing up last night, Fang? We missed you."
"Sleep."
It was startling how curt she had become, the playful Fang from just a few minutes earlier completely gone. I was about to ask why she was asleep in the middle of the day, well into the night even, but Trish actually spoke up instead
"You were coming to Anon's party?" She sounded genuinely surprised.
"Mhm" Fang didn't meet her gaze " Anon thought we should talk."
Trish gave me a wide smile, this must-have meant a lot to her. Trish's expression held more than just gratitude though, was that pride?
"The party may have been for me but it was all Trish's idea, she was the one who called Reed!" I added cheerily, probably best to talk up Trish here.
"You found Rosa and Stella though!" Trish turned to Fang before adding "At church, if you can believe it, I know I almost didn't."
Fang grunted in response, still far too interested in her rapidly emptying coffee cup to look at either of us.
Heart? Brain? Any ideas here? No? Time to go with gut then.
"Alright, what the hell is the deal here!?" I ask in disbelief
"You two used to be best friends!" I slap the table to get their attention, the sound even makes Fang look up. "Why are you acting like this!?"
Rather than give either of them time to answer me, I look straight at Fang.
"If you can forgive me, why can't you can forgive her too?"
A few heartbeats pass by in silence, then a few more. I can feel Trish's stare on me but right now my eyes are locked with Fang's. It's a contest of wills that I refuse to lose. I can tell that Fang is searching my eyes for something, despite saying no words I understood perfectly what she's asking me. Why, why am I doing this? Fang finally tore her gaze from me, instead fixating it on Trish
"Why don't you tell me everything that happened last night, Trish?" She asked far too casually for the conversation at hand
"What?" Both Trish and I echoed each other.
"I'll answer as soon as you're done. Don't leave out any details" She glanced at me briefly "If she does, correct her."
What the hell was this about? Trish glanced between us nervously, I'm not sure why when she basically already told Fang about the most intimate part of the night. Fang was waiting expectantly however, At this point, even I was curious where this was going.
Seeing little opportunity for anything else, Trish started recounting the night. It started with her faking an illness to have the day for preparations and calling Reed over to help set things up. Then, of course, the party actually started with Rosa, Stella and I arriving. Trish mentioned introducing me to Tana but I added that Trish never told me about her before yesterday. Fang's expression darkened at that but held her tongue. Trish continued on to the party games that Reed started, she didn't actually specify the game so I gave examples. When I brought up Reed's last question Fang's eyes narrowed but again she chose not to comment. Finally, Trish got to our little prom night, I interjected again that Reed took Stella home once the slow dance started. That left only the end of the night, Trish and I shared a look, the dual blush on our cheeks was a good enough indication of what happened after that.
Fang was glaring daggers by the time the story was finished, not at me surprisingly, but Trish. When she looked my way her eyes actually softened, it almost looked like sympathy.
"Why don't I tell you what actually happened" She said turning a steely gaze towards Trish "Trish planned every moment of that night."
"She brought Reed so she could use him to subtly direct the conversation, The game he chose wasn't spur of the moment, the questions brought up were carefully chosen." Fang growled, her voice building intensity
"Why do you think he even had that fog machine? He didn't use it when everyone was actually dancing! It was all for Trish and her perfect fucking plan" she practically spat the words.
"Here's the best part, Trish KNOWS this is wrong. That's why she was drinking so much, she needed to build her confidence." Fang had gripped the side of the table now, her talons digging into the wood "Or better yet, she just wanted an EXCUSE for herself. She didn't manipulate anyone, she was too drunk to do that!"
"Tell me, Anon. When was the last time in the past MONTH you did something that Trish didn't want you to do? Don't actually answer that, I already know."
Fang stood from her chair, looming over an utterly stunned Trish.
"You want to know what happened? Why we're not friends? It's THIS shit. She just can't let people be THEMSELVES! She did it to me for YEARS before you and she tried doing it AGAIN once we broke up! At least by then, I was actually smart enough to catch her BULLSHIT."
"So no, I DONT forgive her! Because she was a manipulative, controlling psycho five years ago and she's STILL. FUCKING. DOING. IT!" Fang screamed hoarsely at Trish, tattered wings flaring behind her.
I was no less stunned than Trish, that was... Wow. My mind desperately dug for something I could use to refute her, this wasn't how I wanted it to go. I came up empty, there was no denying the past month had absolutely been consumed by Trish. My personal and professional life could be summed up by doing whatever Trish said. Even the little things, when and where to stop for food? Trish. What we were doing on our days off? Trish. Hell, the one day I actually did something completely independent of her was entirely because Trish wanted me to.
"I'm leaving. Thanks for trying, Anon." Fang rasped bitterly, her voice raw.
Trish And I sat in silence, now alone. It wasn't a surprise that her cheeks were damp with tears still freely flowing. What do I even say? How do I even talk to Trish now without worrying about some kind of ulterior motive? Was it like this since the first day we met again? Was she grooming me like some kind of fucking project? Polishing a trophy she wanted since high school?
"I think I'm going to go too."
"Anon..." Trish sobbed audibly for the first time.
"I just need to think about some stuff, okay? Maybe take a few days off work." I stood stiffly "I'll send you the schedules."
"Please..."
Please don't believe her, please comfort me, please don't go.
I walked towards the door, forcing one foot in front of the other. My hand paused on the doorknob, I wasn't strong enough to leave without looking back. Even from here, I could see Trish still sat in the kitchen. Her expression was unreadable with her face buried in her arms, the shaking of her shoulders told me enough. I stepped through the door to find Fang still standing on the porch, mascara running down her cheeks. Closing the door to Trish's home with a quiet click felt darkly familiar.
It felt like I was closing the door of the principal's office on her for the second time.