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“Hurry!” Sydney rasped, holding onto her stomach as Omar helped her down the hallway to the ladies room. She could feel the egg coming, and the pain was really beginning to pick up, and she did not like the thought of laying one here in the hallway.

“This way,” Omar said, leading her around a corner. She looked at Omar gratefully, glad she had asked the teacher if he could come along to support her on her way to the bathroom. The pain was getting intense, and she wasn’t sure she could make it without Omar here to lean against as they rushed down the hall.

“Here,” said Omar as they finally reached the bathroom. Sydney couldn’t help but cluckle in the pain as Omar let go of her as she went to open the door and make her way in alone.

Sydney stumbled across the bathroom to one of the laying stalls, made comfortable with fresh nestings and whatever a hen would need for laying and full on doors for the maximum privacy a hen could have, all things considered.

The stalls were a new addition at the school after months of petitioning, and Sydney was glad to have them. Before, hens only had the regular stalls to lay in, and that was far from comfortable; now at least, a hen had plenty of room to stretch out and get in whatever position was most comfortable for the discomfort they were sure to face.

As Sydney closed and locked the door behind her, she grabbed a tissue off the wall and wiped her eyes, the pain was getting pretty bad, and she didn’t want to go through this again - but she didn’t have much choice. Sydney wasn’t the strongest hen out there, she was just a regular hen, but all hens had to go through this. She always admired roosters and how strong they could be, she knew others may disagree, but she’d always considered them the stronger of the genders (what? She was straight, she liked a good strong rooster; her friend, who wasn’t, might disagree), so why was it the hens who always went through the things like this?

Sydney tried to get into a position she felt eased her discomfort the most, some of them felt fully embarrassing - she might have laughed if not for the pain, she could definitely imagine teasing Omar with this position. (Though of course she wouldn’t, she’d be too shy to show off that much embarrassment about herself with a cute guy this early on in her relationship. Even if she wouldn’t stop herself from thinking about it, and blushing every time she did.)

Suddenly, a sharp contraction racked through her entire body, breaking off these thoughts.

"****!" Sydney screamed, hot tears streaming from her eyes. She never cursed outside of egg laying, and the fact that she did so now brought so much shame to her Soul. The fact that being a hen made her do this so often, sometimes she hated herself, and that plus the pain made her want to curse out and cry all the more.

"I just want to live a regular ****ing life!" She cried. But laying eggs was regular life for a hen, she liked being a girl, but sometimes it wasn't fair. Frequent episodes of pain didn't cause a rooster to curse and cry and have irrational mood swings against their will every so often.

Outside the bathroom, Omar could hear Sydney’s squawks and screams, cussing worse than an R-Rated movie carrying through the walls. He shifted uncomfortably. Omar felt bad for the hens, it seemed like so much of their lives were consumed with laying eggs, he didn't know how one could live like that, living through so much pain so often. It really did seem hens were given the wrong side of the stick.

He remembered their Thanksgiving, so short ago; how could their Thanksgiving have been so wonderful knowing this was just around the corner? And Sydney was a hen, so surely she had known all along she would go through this again soon.

Back in the bathroom, Sydney was lying on the nesting room floor, folded over on herself, rear raised in the air behind her, tailfeathers extended, just laying there whimpering as she tried to ease the contractions. Another one hit, and she cried out, throwing herself around, throwing up nesting material everywhere. She was sweating everywhere, she could feel spittle coming out of her mouth, tears everywhere, she was just making everything into a big mess.

She felt bad for the janitor, who was a guy, who had to clean up after them, he could only guess what went on in these rooms, and the fact that he could probably guess better than he'd ever feel comfortable letting on made her feel awkward. Of course guys knew about laying eggs, Omar himself knew, it was what made it easier for him to sympathize with her, but she still didn't know how to feel about it that roosters could know the most awkward things there were to know about hens when they would never have to deal with it themselves.

Sydney wiped the tears from her eyes, she was a hen, hens always did this, she could do this.

Sydney gritted herself, fighting to hold back another wave of tears, she could do this, whether she wanted to or not.

Finally, Sydney let herself relax and took in a deep breath. No, she wasn’t ready, but it was okay not to be ready, she would just take it when it happened. She would make it through this, through better or through worse, but in the end, it would all be okay in the end.

Then Sydney’s body gave another violent contraction, and she felt the egg rip free.

Sydney shrieked bloody murder.

Omar stood outside, flinching. Poor Sydney, he couldn’t image the kind of pain she must’ve just felt to make her shriek like that.

A few moments later, the door opened and Sydney limped out of the room carrying her egg.

“Are you okay?” Asked Omar.

“Yeah,” Sydney said, “Just help me back to the classroom.”

Omar led Sydney back down the hall, wing wrapped under hers for support. He couldn’t help but marvel that - how after what she had clearly just been through - how easily it seemed she had just recovered. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like facing that pain every few days, and then being able to snap back to normal life almost as if it had never happened. How did that not lead to some level of chronic dread in your life? It almost seemed as if to cope, hens could conveniently choose to forget, or at least overlook their layings at least until the next one, but did that make it worth it? Omar couldn’t imagine being happy in a life where it was like that.

Omar looked at Sydney again, she was walking straighter now, more herself, “How are you feeling?” he asked.

Sydney paused a moment, resting herself. Omar was a rooster, and she knew he wouldn’t understand, but she knew it’d feel good to open up, even if a bit embarrassing.

“I don’t like it,” Sydney said, “I don’t like that it happens to me.” She sighed, “But you know, you get used to it, you don’t have to think about it unless it’s actually happening. But still…” She hesitated, “Sometimes I feel so ashamed of myself.”

Omar looked at her, “You shouldn’t have to feel ashamed of yourself because you lay.”

Sydney shook her head, “Not that. Cursing. I hate cursing.” She looked at him, wondering if he thought she was silly for having such concerns, but he didn’t, he just looked at her with understanding. So, she went on, “I hate having to cuss everytime I lay, it accomplishes nothing but to show disrespect for those around you. There may be reasons to have to go against authority or make your own decisions in life, but cussing accomplishes none of that, it only exists to show disrespect to those around you. Disrespect to the way your parents raised you.”

Omar thought about this. "I'm not particularly fond of cussing either,” Omar replied sympathetically, “You have a great relationship with your parents, so I can understand why you'd want to honor them with how you speak. I guess I don't have that, so I don't know why... I guess it's just that I don't want to be that rooster…” He paused, “Sorry, I’m getting off track, we were talking about you.”

“I guess it’s just…” Sydney started again, “it serves no practical purpose and it only exists to show how rude you can be, and I just don’t want that in my life.”

"It also expands your vocabulary," a chick shouted out to them suddenly as she passed by, catching them off guard, "it's called education, try it."

Omar and Sydney stopped to watch her go as she rounded the corner, back the way from which they had just come.

When she was gone, Omar looked back at Sydney, "but I don't think that's what you're doing, you're in pain, and none of the regular words you know are strong enough to express that pain, it's an extreme feeling and you need extreme words to express it.”

Sydney looked away, “Yes, but I still feel dirty. I just wish I wasn't this way when I lay.”

Omar nodded, understanding.

They made it back to the classroom, and headed back to their seats. Sydney rested her egg on her desk and tried to focus on the lecture, but she was still distracted by her conversation with Omar. She still felt very guilty for what she had said in the laying stall, even though she knew she probably shouldn’t.

Suddenly, she noticed the hen next to her was doodling something in her notebook alongside her notes, Sydney couldn’t help but glance over.

Suddenly, Sydney felt a strong a sense of awkwardness.

Well, she was a good artist, Sydney would give her that.

But on the page was the picture of a hen, face contorted in obvious pain, beak open in a cry, clearly laying an egg. A handsome rooster was standing awkwardly by, as if unsure how to help in the situation.

The artist was a new student, transferred from out of state if Sydney remembered right, and seeing her drawing a scene very similar to the painful situation Sydney had just been through, she didn’t know what to think.

Suddenly, the girl noticed Sydney watching her, and her face went red. She quickly rushed to cover up her drawing with her wings, and she flipped her notebook to a fresh page, this time doodling flowers or something. But clearly she was not as into it as she had been before.

The girl glanced back up at Sydney, and went red. Neither of them said anything, but it was obvious the damage had already been done, no amount of flowers could cover that up.

During lunch, Sydney set out to find the girl from her class earlier. She was still kind of awkward about having peaked in on her art, but she was also a new girl, and it only seemed polite to give her a kind welcome.

Finally, Sydney found her sitting on a bench in the corner, eating all by herself.

“Hi,” Sydney said shyly.

The girl looked up, kind of startled. "Listen, I didn't try to base my drawing off of you,” she said quickly, “but I did see you get up to leave, and you had your boyfriend with you, and I couldn't help but think, if it had happened to me..." Finally, she gave up, "Yes, I’m into egg laying." She folded her wings, looking resigned to whatever judgment Sydney may lay upon her now.

Sydney shifted awkwardly, but she didn’t want to be judgemental. She didn’t know how to feel about this girl’s “into” (she knew there was a more professional term for being “into” something, but it wasn’t a word she felt comfortable using), but she looked lonely, like she needed someone to talk to; Sydney was into a few things herself that made her embarrassed that she didn’t know how to talk about.

Sydney held out a wing, “I’m Sydney.”

Slightly confused, the other girl took it, “I’m Sicily.”

“Mind if I sit here?”

Sicily nodded, and Sydney sat down next to her. As she ate, Sicily flipped through her notebook, looking at the drawings she had made of various hens in various stages of laying, all their faces wrought with pain. Sydney already knew, there was no point hiding it.

“You haven’t laid an egg before, have you?” Sydney asked.

“Yes I have!” Sicily replied defensively.

“But doesn’t it hurt?”

Sicily looked away, “Of course it does. But after I lay, I find it easy to look at the past in third person. I still remember what it felt like of course, but I can just imagine that I’m only imagining the pain, and I can apply it to one of my fictional characters instead.” She shrugged, “I guess it kind of helps me sort through and process all the feelings that come with laying an egg.”

“But didn’t you say you were into it?” Sydney was confused.

“There are a lot of emotions and feelings that come from laying an egg, many that I’m not even able to process!” Sicily snapped, “So what if I’m into it? Maybe being into it helps me to feel some positivity towards it to help me counter all the negative feelings that come with it as well; to give a sense of meaning and anticipate instead of just dread.”

Sydney didn’t know what to say to this. In a way it did make sense, but it did seem that there could run the risk that if the positive emotions drowned out the negative ones too much, it could cause you to lose your sensitivity towards those who were actually going through it. She herself had just been through it, and she didn’t know how to feel that her discomfort was part of what somebody else was “into”.

Sydney thought for a moment, “Listen, I’m not here to judge you, you just seemed lonely and you needed someone to talk to.”

Sicily shrugged, “Most people just don’t understand how it feels to have all these feelings inside. I apologize if you’re offended by it. I know, it’s messed up.”

As Sicily mindlessly picked at her food with her fork, she shifted through the pages of her notebook. Sydney wasn’t sure if Sicily wanted her to see the drawings or not, but Sydney had a hard time keeping down her curiosity. The drawings varied greatly on what they portrayed, and Sydney couldn’t help but wince at some of the eggs that had been depicted, some way bigger than any hen would ever like to imagine coming from them, some even covered in spikes, (OUCH!). Sydney had to give her this, she was creative.

Sydney couldn't help but notice in every picture there was a rooster standing by watching, sometimes anxious, sometimes confused, but usually in some way, always trying his best to be supportive.

Sicily noticed Sydney watching, and went red, Sydney shifted, looking away, picking at her own food.

“Sorry,” Sydney said.

“Well, you already know, so you might as well look,” Sicily said, opening up the notebook back up for Sydney.

Sydney still wasn’t sure how she felt about this conversation, but it was obvious Sicily needed someone to talk to; most her drawings were pretty mild anyway, and except for the sensitive subject matter, mostly unoffensive. Sydney turned her attention back to the rooster on this page, wings wrapped warmly around the hen as her eyes were closed tight and she was crying out, and she couldn’t help but think, in a way it was almost wholesome.

“It’s embarrassing, I know,” Sicily said, “But it’s so cute when a guy helps a girl through her special egg problems, isn't it?" Sicily brushed the comb of one of the roosters she had drawn with her wing affectionately. “You’re so lucky you have Omar.” She continued, not even looking up t Sydney.

Sydney thought of Omar and how frequently he had been there for her before and after her layings, how supportive he was, never carrying any judgment. Yeah, he was pretty great, even if the situation was more than a little embarrassing.

“In a way, roosters have even more feelings they have to sort through when it comes to laying than we do,” Sicily said, “they can only imagine what it’s like being in the worst pain in the world, we actually know. I remember before my first egg, I’d hear the squawks of other unfortunate hens laying, and I could only imagine what it must have felt like; once I laid my first egg, that got rid of half the mystery.” Suddenly, Sicily blushed, “Do you think he is into egg laying?” She nodded to a spot across the dining room.

Sydney looked to where Sicily was looking. He was a rooster from their class earlier, Cole, sitting at a table with a bunch of his friends. From what Sydney had seen, Cole had been a fairly polite boy, sometimes he would mess up, got into the occasional argument with the teacher when he didn’t agree with their answer, but nothing that gave off the vibe of being disrespectful just for the sake of it.

“You’d really feel comfortable being with a guy who had a thing for you being in pain while laying an egg?” Sydney was a bit confused.

"You can't choose what you're into.” Sicily said, resorting back to her defensive self, “Besides, you can be into something and still feel bad about it when somebody actually goes through it."

"I suppose so," Sydney conceded. She'd thought her own thoughts about Omar that Omar surely would be very embarrassed to know about. And she was sure Omar had his share of thoughts about her (she blushed). It wasn't something she was necessarily proud of, but she wasn't sure if she should be ashamed either, it just happened. But weren't those feelings for marriage? What did you do if you felt those things, but you weren't married yet?

“What makes you think of all the roosters here, Cole would be into laying eggs too?” Sydney asked.

Sicily blushed, “Just the way he looked when you had to rush out of the room to lay your egg, like he was trying not to be into it, like he was ashamed for thinking about a classmate in that way, but he was.”

Sydney felt weird by this. It was nice that he was trying not to she guessed, and of course guys would know how eggs work and all, but it still felt weird. Sicily seemed to be into it though.

“You know, I have a song for laying eggs,” Sicily said suddenly, “I sometimes play it while I’m laying or when I’m about to lay.”

Sydney looked at her curiously.

“Don’t laugh, it’s that song from the Gremlins, you know, the one during the end credits,” despite her own warning against Sydney, Sicily looked like she was about to laugh herself, “It kind of makes me feel anxious, but it’s also kind of cool too, it really helps set the mood.”

“How did that get started?” Sydney couldn’t help but ask.

“We were watching Gremlins when I first found out how bad egg laying was supposed to hurt.” Sicily replied. “My cousin was in the other room while we were watching the film, and at some point, she started to burst out screaming, and at first I was confused, maybe a little unsettled, but I was enjoying the movie and didn’t want to interrupt it. So once the movie was over and the credits were playing, I decided to ask mom about it and she explained. The thought that it could someday happen to me, that it could happen to pretty much any hen, mixed with the music playing in the background, it just blended together so perfectly, where every time I hear that song, it just brings me back.”

Finally, Sydney had to ask.

“So Cole,” Sydney said, “is that the only reason you like him? Because he might be into egg laying.”

“No, of course not,” Sicily replied, “I thought he was cute from the start, but knowing he might be into the same thing I’m into… I got to talk to him, right?”

Sydney hesitated, “Well, you’re interested in him, right?”

“But how do I let him know I’m into what I’m into? What if I totally misjudged him and he’s not into it at all? Should I even let him know I’m into it at the start? But if I don’t, what if he likes me, and then he finds out and I ruin it?” Sicily looked overrun with anxiety.

Sydney didn’t know these answers, but she looked at Sicily calmly, “Listen, if you want to talk to him, you have to start somewhere.”

Sicily looked down at her notebook, “But you saw my drawings, I’m a freak.”

Sydney sat next to Sicily quietly, not saying anything, just letting Sicily take in her thoughts as they finished up their meals.

Finally, Sicily looked up, “You’re right, I should do it. I’m just going to do it, and if I shame myself, so be it.”

But before she could do anything, the bell rang, signaling the end to lunch. As Sydney and Sicily rushed over to return their trays, Sicily looked at Sydney, “I’m going to do it, wish me luck.”

And then Sicily disappeared into the crowd.

As she was leaving the dining room, Sydney nearly bumped into Omar.

“There you are,” said Omar, “I didn’t see you in there. Your friends were asking about you too.”

“I was talking to the new girl,” Sydney replied.

“Ah,” Omar nodded understanding.

As they headed back down the hallway, Sydney spotted Sicily, trying to catch up with Cole as he made it to his locker. Sydney couldn’t help but stop to watch. Omar looked at her.

“Hurry on to class,” Sydney said, “I want to see this.”

Omar nodded and continued on down the hall.

Shyly, as Sydney watched from the corner, Sicily went over to the lockers and opened her own. Awkwardly, she withdrew what looked like a couple plastic imitation eggs, she held them as if unsure of what she was about to do.

Then, hardening her resolve, she closed her locker, and made her way past where Cole was standing. As she passed him, she feigned a playful yelp, and dropped the imitation egg on the floor behind her. Cole turned around to see what the fuss was and saw Sicily with the egg laying on the floor behind her.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a fake,” said Sicily, nudging it toward him with her foot. Then she gave another playful squawk and dropped the other imitation egg right where the first one was.

Cole’s face went red, he tried to suppress a laugh.

Sicily looked at him, “You’re into hens laying eggs, aren’t you?”

Cole went still, obviously embarrassed in himself.

Wow, getting straight to the point, are we? Sydney thought.

“Listen,” Cole said, trying to defend himself, “I know how it sounds, it’s just…” he looked away, “I know, it’s bad, isn’t it?”

Sicily’s face brightened with sincerity, “I don’t think so,” she said, “not if you’re not being disrespectful about it.”

“But the pain…” Cole started.

Sicily looked left and right down the hallway, then blushing, turned to him to whisper, “I know, the ultimate slapstick, right?” Then she gave a playful contortion of the face, and “OOF!” she looked around, realizing she didn’t have any more of the imitation eggs, so she picked one off the floor, and threw it behind her.

Cole tried to suppress his laughter, but this time he couldn’t, Sicily burst out laughing beside him. They fell into eachothers arms laughing, and when Sicily finally recovered enough, she looked down the hallway to where Sydney was and gave her a feather’s up.

Sydney smiled to herself despite herself. As weird as it all was, she couldn’t deny the two of them would make a cute couple.

Realizing the time, Sydney realized she had to hurry or she’d be late for class. Rushing to her own locker, she grabbed the items she would need, and hurried back down the hallway, and made it to the classroom just as class was about to start.

So the rest of the day went on.

When the final bell rung and it was time to head home, Sydney met Omar out in the parking lot.

“So, who was that girl you met?” Omar asked curiously.

“Oh, she just moved here recently and I was trying to help her get adjusted.” Sydney didn’t know if she should tell him about hers and Sicily’s conversation, and ultimately decided against it. While she was pretty open with Omar herself, this was Sicily’s thing to talk about or not talk about, not hers.

She looked at Omar, “Are you going to be okay going home tonight.”

Omar nodded, “Yeah, my parents are still arguing, but these past few days, they’ve made a sort of truce. I think I should be fine for now.”

Sydney nodded.

“Well, see you tomorrow,” she said finally.

Sydney made her way across the parking lot to where her parents’ car was waiting (nearly getting run over by Merida and her Corolla in the process - that girl needed to watch where she was going!). When she reached it, her Mom rolled down the window.

“How was school?”

“Good,” Sydney replied. She noticed Howard was already sitting in the passenger seat, so she had to climb into the backseat instead.

Howard was always good at hogging the front seat.

Sydney had just finished her homework and she was sitting on the couch watching Howard playing Sonic the Hedgehog 2 on the original Genesis. Why he didn’t just play it on the X-Box or something, Sydney didn’t know, but he was pretty good at it, and he’d managed to get to Oil Ocean without losing all his lifes. Personally, she didn’t know how anybody could even get past that Boss Casino Night, but her brother had done it.

“Do you mind if I join in as Tails?” Sydney asked.

“Here,” said Howard, passing her the controller.

The two of them played together until Howard abruptly died on the first act of Metropolis Zone.

“Okay, I’m done!” Howard said, throwing down the controller, “I’m going to play Sonic Superstars. That’ll show you no-save-file Genesis!”

As Howard changed over the system and put in the game, Sydney made her way into the kitchen where her parents were sitting at the table talking. When they saw her, they looked up.

“Coming to get something?” Her Dad asked.

“Just some popcorn, I’m going to play some Sonic with Howard before bed.

Sydney got out a packet of popcorn and put it in the microwave, and got out a bowl for her and Howard to share. Pouring the popcorn into the bowl, she headed back for the living room. As she did so, Sydney’s Dad got up from his seat.

“I probably should get a start on dishes now,” he said. He still felt guilty for missing them on Thanksgiving and was still trying to make up for it.

Sydney returned to the living room and sat down on the couch; Howard was already mid-level, and as Sydney put the popcorn on the table, she looked at him.

“You started without me,” she said with annoyance.

Howard shrugged, “Comes with the territory,” he said, though Sydney had no idea what territory he was talking about.

Howard reached to grab a wingful of popcorn, but Sydney pulled it back, “Your wings are clean, aren’t they?”

“Of course,” said Howard, “I cleaned them right after dinner.”

Accepting this, Sydney let Howard grab his wingful, and they sat down to play the game together.

As Sydney’s character loaded, Howard looked back at Sydney, "Wait, you chose Knuckles?" Howard said, "I thought you were going to choose Amy."

Sydney would be lying if she said she didn't like Amy, but secretly, she’d once had a crush on Knuckles, so she’d chosen him.

"You are so weird," Howard mumbled to himself.

For choosing Knuckles!? She was weird for choosing Knuckles!!!

Never mind.

It was getting late now, and Howard and Sydney’s father had already went to bed. Sydney’s Mom was sitting at the table going through some things, and it was just the two of them in the quiet of the night.

“Mom,” Sydney asked suddenly, “How do you feel about Egg Laying?”

Sydney’s Mom looked at her for a moment, then burst out into a squawkter of laughter.

“I’m a hen,” she replied, “I lay eggs like every other hen.”

Sydney hesitated, that wasn’t the answer she was looking for, and she wasn’t sure how to ask, so she would just have to do her best.

“What about Dad?” She continued, “does he… is he into it?”

Sydney’s Mom looked at her, amusement still written in her eyes. She knew what Sydney was talking about, she was having questions that many girls had at her age, questions she might even feel ashamed about, but questions that needed answers.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say he has a thing for it, if that’s what you mean,” Sydney’s Mom replied gently, “but over time we have grown comfortable enough with eachother to be able to joke about it sometimes."

"You joke about laying eggs?" Sydney asked in shock.

Sydney's mom looked at her amused, "We're chickens, you got to admit there's a sort of irony to it."

Sydney looked confused.

“Here, let me put it this way,” Sydney’s Mom continued, “What do you find attractive about Omar, is it what you have the same, or is it what’s different?”

“Well, I like our shared interests and hobbies,” Sydney answered slowly. “But physically…” She felt herself blushing, “I guess I would say what’s different. And I like how he likes my differences too.” Okay, too personal.

Sydney’s Mom nodded, “That’s how many roosters feel, eggs are different to them, an entirely different experience - not pleasant of course - but enough to give them curiosity.”

Sydney looked away, feeling shy about her next question, “And what if a hen is into it?”

Sydney’s Mom looked at her funny.

“Not me,” Sydney jumped to defend herself, “Just someone I met.” She paused, “Though I’d be lying if I didn’t say I couldn’t start to see the appeal.”

Sydney’s Mom’s amusement returned.

“Start!” Sydney declared firmly, “I said ‘start.’”

“Well, like I said,” Sydney’s Mom continued again, “Curiosity. Some hens like it when guys are curious about how they work.”

Sydney felt she could finally begin to understand, she had felt in similar ways when Omar had looked at her curiously when she had to address certain aspects of herself - sometimes embarrassed, but always with just a touch of attraction toward him added on there because of it. Eggs were intense, but they were still an experience unique to her, and no matter how open she would be with Omar about it in later years, there would always be that sense of curiosity between them. The experience itself may never be great, but perhaps in time, sharing in that curiosity together could be.

But still… “But seeing a hen in pain…” Sydney continued, “how can anyone just accept that? A rooster who’s into that, can he ever really respect the hen he’s with?” She thought of Sicily, with Cole, Cole seemed fine, but knowing what she now knew about the two of them, could they ever truly have a healthy relationship?

Sydney’s Mom shrugged, “I can’t answer for everything,” she answered honestly, “each couple I guess has to decide for themselves what they’re comfortable with and respect the limits of their partner. I know, me and your dad had to have quite the few discussions for… Our own things.”

Okay, Sydney didn’t need to hear about that.

Too bad eggs weren’t like partners though, she’d definitely like to put limits on what her eggs put her through if she was being honest. If only inanimate objects could be held to the same accountability that people were.

Sydney yawned and looked at her Mom, “Listen, I’m going to go to bed now. Thanks for the talk.”

“Anything I can do to help,” Her mother replied.

As Sydney made her way back to her room, she could feel her body relaxing, it was early enough that she’d have a good long night of sleep before school tomorrow, and her body had pretty much forgotten the strain by now of laying her egg.

As Sydney curled up under her blankets, she couldn’t help but think of Omar, so supportive in her life, and even her possible new friend Sicily, she hoped the two of them, her and Cole could make it work.

Sydney laid eggs, and sometimes she even cursed while doing it - she would never get over herself for that - but overall as she thought of her life and those around her, her life wasn’t half bad.

And so she finally dozed to sleep.

And she didn't wake up again.

Not for the rest of the night.