Sometimes I feel like it’s me against the world.

I don’t remember my biological parents. I grew up in an orphanage, where my earliest memories came. The first thing I can remember is my old friend Pinkster, shaking me awake, yelling, ‘the ice cream truck is here!’ We were best friends, playing in the playground, chasing away the smaller kids away from the sandbox, so we could rule our desert kingdom side-by-side, fighting off our enemies with shovels as swords and buckets for helmets. When pitted against older children, we stuck together and managed to escape, laughing at our own daring and wit later. It wasn’t too hard, to tell the truth.

I remember we had to do an arts-and-crafts project. We made each other weird little charms. Mine was a little hat. His was a miniature shoe. We exchanged, and laughed at the absurdity of our creations. I remember that we both promised never to lose them or we’d risk losing our friendship.

But now Pinkster’s gone too.

We were both bored of the life we lived in that orphanage. Swings and slides weren’t enough to satisfy two growing, adventurous kids. But we stuck together, all the way through.

Until that day.

We were the last to be adopted. All the others in our group were taken. None of the other adopters wanted an anthro child. The couple standing in front of us was friendly, and willing to take in any child. I heard them saying something about a disease that disabled the woman’s ability to have children. I forgot the term now, but it didn’t matter.

They weren’t a rich couple, and only had enough resources to take one of us. Seeing that they were having trouble deciding, Pinkster suggested a coin flip. But Pinkster never carried change – growing up with bullies had taught us that. The only coin I carried was my lucky double-headed penny. And Pinkster knew that I had it.

I looked at him. He looked at me.

Go ahead, he seemed to say. I’ll be fine here.

“Heads, you get me. Tails, you get Pinkstuh,” I said, biting my lip and flipping my coin. It came up heads. Of course.

And that’s when we left each other. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve used my coin. Maybe then, Pinkster wouldn’t be in jail. But it’s too late for regrets.

I grew up in a friendly neighborhood, but the politeness was only a façade – I knew that most of the other families muttered behind our backs. Dad and Mom only turned away, and when I asked them about it, they told me not to mind. Though it was hard not to mind when your neighbor jumps on your truck and claims it was an accident, or when the weird teenaged girl that always sits outside near the porch mocks you because you have a beak. More than once, I ran away in tears.

The only comfort that came outside of my home was the family down at the corner. The couple that lived there were hippies, but it was nice to have support all the same.

And there was Mary.

From the very moment I stepped out of the car, she was my friend. I remember clambering out, my new parents right behind me. I stared up at my new home. It was nothing special, but for me, it signaled a new life – one without Pinkster. Ten seconds later, I was ambushed by a speedy black blur, and we tumbled to the ground. Blinking, I struggled to escape my captor.

“Hey, hey! Get offa me!” I yelled. The sun was in my eyes, so I couldn’t see who had me pinned down.

“Hi, new friend! What’s your name?”

Whoever it was got off of my chest and I got up and rubbed my eyes. When my sight cleared, I saw a bright-eyed toddler, probably even younger than I was at the time. Her raven black hair was shining, as if she had just stepped out of a pool.

”Uh…hi?”

“Why…you have a beak!” the girl exclaimed, partially shocked and partially delighted. She reached out to touch it. “Is it real?”

“Mary!”

“Uh-oh…” Mary dodged behind me. “Not here!”

Footsteps approached, and a shadow was cast over me. I looked up slowly to see my new neighbors looking down at me. “Uh…”

“Mary, you shouldn’t knock down your new friend! What would he think of you?” said a brown-haired lady. She was wearing the weirdest clothes – her shirt displayed a brightly colored spiral, and a silver chain hung from her neck.

“C’mere, ya little tyke,” said her companion cheerfully as he reached behind me and plucked Mary off the ground. He was a stark contrast to the woman beside him, with a fedora hat perched jauntily on his head, and he gave me the impression of a jungle explorer. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he said to me, grinning. “Mistress Mary ‘ere is a bit over-enthusiastic.”

“Oh…uh…”

“Are you okay?” my mother said worriedly, picking me up and dusting me off.

“I’m okay,” I replied, blinking. “Um…”

“These are your new neighbors,” my father said, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. “Say hi!”

“Hi,” I said timidly. Mary laughed. It was a strange sort of laugh that I’ll remember forever. It wasn’t until many more years had passed before I finally remembered what that laugh reminded me of.

We were best friends from then on. Everything we did, everything we saw, every secret we hid, we shared with each other. As I grew, my classmates would avoid me, although there were the few who would actually talk to me, and the small group that nodded as I passed them in the locker halls. The rest mainly pretended I wasn’t there. Mary was the only person who I completely trusted. She stuck to my side, no matter what the cost – and the cost was often high. She was persecuted, taunted because of her choice of friends and her peace-loving parents. But I felt like I had Pinkster back. We barely drifted ten feet away from each other. By some miraculous chance, we had every single class together in school. When I was in trouble, she fished me out. She was rarely in trouble herself. Except for that one time.

“You what?”

“I…left my homework at home,” Mary mumbled, not looking at our music teacher. My head jerked upwards, unable to believe it. Mary? Leaving work at home? Impossible.

“You do realize that this was the only assignment I have given you in the last three months,” Mr. Mascari said, the spotlights glaring off his shining bald head. Mary nodded. I could see that she was biting her lip, ready to cry.

“Detention, unless you get your homework back, by some miracle…” Mr. Mascari stomped back up to the podium as the rest of the class s******ed. “Number seventy-one!” he called out, and the students flipped their books and readied their instruments. I glanced at Mary, but she looked impassive. I set my binder down under my seat. I knew something was up.

“You didn’t leave your homework at home,” I muttered under my breath so only Mary could hear as the bell rang. “What happened?”

“N-nothing,” said Mary quickly. “Let’s get to history…” She rushed off, leaving me standing in the hall.

Knowing that most people were already against us, my choice of suspects was…well, not very narrow. However, there was one specific group that I knew that could’ve had a hand in getting Mary in trouble.

I walked into the abandoned boy’s bathroom across from the math and computer rooms. It was rather noisy, but not loud enough for any of the teachers to notice. The instant I stepped into through the doorway, a hushed silence bounced off the scratched tiled walls, even though I couldn’t see anyone.

”Hey, Josh!” I called out. A tall, sandy-haired boy stepped out from behind a stall. Not Josh.

“Private grounds, Dan."

"Where's your brother, John?" I asked.

"Ain't here."

"Where's Mary's homework, John?"

"Ain't here."

"Where is it?"

"We never touched any homework." John smirked as my eye started to twitch.

"Look, just gimme her homework. She got detention already, that should be enough for you!"

"I don't feel like it."

"I said, give me her homework."

"Get outta here," said John jokingly. When I didn't budge, his expression hardened. "We can do this the easy or the hard way, Dan. Either get out, or we'll escort you out personally."

It always had to be the hard way.

Four minutes later, I straggled into the history classroom and was ambushed by a speedy black blur.

"DANNY! Are you okay?! Why are your feathers sticking out?! Did you get into a fight with Josh again?!"

"Here's your homework," I said feebly, holding out a scuffed-up packet decorated with treble clefs. Mary blinked in bemusement.

"You- wait, homework?"

"Take it..."

"Uh- but- how?" she sputtered. “Danny, you can’t go picking fights just to get my homework back! I mean, really, just-”

"Take it!" I snapped, thrusting it at her and stomping to my seat. “Geez…” I flipped open my folder in a vain attempt to look busy. Mary stood there, staring at me. She opened her mouth to say something – and then the second (“you’re gonna be late”) bell rang, and she jumped and ran out the door to deliver the homework before the late (“you’re tardy”) bell rang.

We didn’t speak to each other for the whole class period. This didn’t go unnoticed by our classmates, who pointed and laughed at our silence. I scowled and drew on the margins of my handout. I drew a stick figure with a ribbon.

“Did your boyfriend break up with you?” whispered a cheerleader snidely to Mary. I could see her flush bright red. I drew another stick figure stabbing the first with an oversized blade.

“Lookit her burn,” came another hushed voice, followed by an outbreak of giggles. The teacher looked up and the class fell silent. When he turned back to his work, another burst of laughing erupted. He sighed and looked up again, to be met with silence again.

“What is so funny?” he asked. I saw out of the corner of my eye that others were looking at each other slyly. I gritted my teeth and looked back at my classwork – or rather, what wasn’t already covered with absent-minded doodles or dead stick figures. I drew a whole crowd of stick figures with ribbons. I took out a red pen and scribbled all over it.

The cheerleader’s group burst out giggling again.

“I’m serious. What is so funny?” said Mr. Tsichlis exasperatedly.

“Nothing,” the class chorused, immediately disproving their statement by laughing again. Mr. Tchlis sighed.

“If you don’t pay attention, I’m bumping the test to next Tuesday,” he warned. Everyone shut up.

The bell saved us from further embarassment, and I was the second out of the classroom. Mary was already ahead of me. By the time I had caught up with her, she was halfway to the locker halls.

“Mary! Geez, slow down, you know I can’t keep up with you,” I said, tapping her on the shoulder and grinning. She returned my smile only half-heartedly, then returned to staring at the ground. She didn’t say a word as she opened her locker by pressing her thumb to the scanner on the lock. Finally, as I shut my locker door, she spoke up.

“Am I a bother, Danny?”

“Not at all,” I said, surprised. “Why?”

“I feel like a bother sometimes,” she replied, shutting her own locker. She looked me in the eye. “Am I?”

“No – unless you count when you call me at one in the morning, when you’ve forgotten that we’ve already taken the bio test two days ago.” I tried not to laugh at the thought, but it was hard when she was trying not to laugh either. Finally, we both gave in and doubled over, laughing. She had the habit of almost falling over when she laughed, and so she also had the habit of grabbing my arm to steady herself when she laughed. I was used to it by now, but unconsciously, I stopped laughing when she touched me. I heard myself inhale sharply.

“Hahaha…oh, gosh…I remember that…I am a bother sometimes, aren’t I?” Mary giggled, her laughing fit subsiding. Her smile faded a little. “Danny? Why aren’t you laughing?”

“Oh-” I blinked and laughed nervously. “Ha, er, I didn’t notice…um…”

“Was it not supposed to be that funny? I thought it was pretty funny,” she said, saving me from finding a plausible answer. “Are you up to a round on the mats when we get home? I know I am!” she continued, smiling at me. I grinned.

“I’m up to it if you’re up to losing to me!” I teased as we headed towards the exit.

“Race you,” she said, sticking her tongue out at me as she ran outside.

“You’re on!” I laughed as I sprinted off, leaving her behind. With an indignant “Hey!” she chased after me. I slowed down enough for her to catch up, then put on another spurt of speed. I could imagine her odd half-grin mixed with determination as she dashed faster to catch up again.

We had almost reached the wide backyard that our families shared, but by then we were both exhausted. When we reached the edge of the grass, I collapsed onto the grass and laughed. She followed my example and we both giggled for who knows how long. Her laughs eventually subsided before mine did, but I didn’t notice until my own laughing had left me. I turned to her and caught her staring. She quickly stared up at the sky, her face turning red. Silence hung over us. After what felt like an eternity, looking at the sky, I cleared my throat and sat up.

“Er…Mary?”

“Hm?”

“D-d’ya…um…aw, forget it,” I mumbled, getting up. But now I had aroused her curiousity.

“What? What is it? Tell me tell me tell me,” she said, grinning, getting up as well.

“Nothing. Really!” I added as she looked skeptical. “Seriously, it’s nothing.”

“If you say so,” she replied, smiling gently. I felt my mouth twitch, trying to smile but failing. I turned towards my house.

“Danny?”

I turned around again. “Yeah?”

She hugged me. “Thank you.”

I was sure she could feel my heart pounding in my chest – I could feel her heartbeat as well. I felt my cheeks heat up, and for once, I was glad that I had black feathers on my face.

“Um…you’re welcome…” I said awkwardly and belatedly as she let go. She still looked rather pink.

“Well…I guess we’d better get started on that history homework,” she said quietly, starting to walk toward her house.

I don’t know what made me take the step, but I did.

“Wait,” I said, grabbing her shoulder. She turned, only partially surprised.

“Yes?”

I bent down and kissed her swiftly on the lips.

We stood there in silence, both of us slightly out of-breath, as though we had just finished racing again. Neither of us said a word.

And then she ran up to me and hugged me again, and I grinned and hugged her back. When she finally let go, there were tears in her eyes. My grin disappeared.

“Mary? What’s wrong? I’m not that bad at kissing, am I?” I asked, trying to keep a straight face. She burst out laughing again, and so did I, and we were on the grass laughing again, and by the time her parents came outside to find out the source of all the noise, her tears had dried up.

I wish that day had never ended.

One thing led to another, and I somehow found myself the subject of much criticism, speculation, and gossip over the next few weeks. Heck, I saw a journalist and a cameraman following me and Mary as we walked home one afternoon. The next day, a tiny article with a picture appeared in the local newspaper, and then even the teachers started to think that we were dating.

Our parents had nothing against it, of course. Mary’s parents thought it romance in the highest degree. My parents thought the pairing was inevitable, no matter how we denied it.

We never said a word of it to each other, ironically. We acted as though nothing had happened. But occasionally, when she was sure no one was looking, she would hold my hand, and on the rare occurrence that we were left alone, I would ask if she liked it, and she would say yes, and I would ask if she wanted to practice, and she would laugh and she’d kiss me.

Those were the best of days.

I finally took her out to the movie theater, something we had done a few times before, but only with adult supervision, and when we were still in elementary school. I had no idea what I should do or what I should say, but what happened afterwards saved me the trouble.

Of course, I would have dealt with the awkward silences rather than what happened after the movie.

“There’s gotta be something I can do…”

“Don’t forget me…that’s all…I want…”

“I won’t, I swear I won’t…”

“I love you, you know that…right, Danny?”

“I’m…sorry…for annoying you…with all that crap…about Misty Breeze…”

“It’s okay…”

“I love you too, Mary…”

The following weeks were a blur. The hospital, the crying, my parents, her parents, the funeral, they were all a mess of color in my memory.

And then the meteor hit.

And then Zadavia found me, my parents were so happy that I was going my way in the world, I moved in with the Loonatics, and for once since the funeral, I was happy.

And then Pinkster showed up again.

And we had to arrest him, put him in jail…

And sometimes I feel like it’s me against the world.

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TEH FIN.