Author's Note: I hope you all accept my apologies, my nonexistent fans, concerning the slow update. I have been very busy as of late and have had little time to write. However, have the time I need now and I will use it the best I can, so please enjoy the following. I also apologize if my interpretations of the characters' actions were off. I haven't seen the show in a little while so I may be rusty.
Fanboy's Point of View.
It's been a month since you-know-what happened, and...what can I say? I'm not sure how to word anything strange that's been happening lately, because to be honest, nothing much has changed. Yeah, I'm really sad about that because I thought Francine and I would eventually turn into something special. We had sex! Doesn't that mean anything to her? It has to mean something special!
I shuffled through my nearly blank notebook papers and wince when I see the red marks. How are my still passing this class? I haven't been paying attention lately, though I don't technically think it's all my fault. I'm just so distracted nowadays with what's happened, and I already have a short attention span. I hate high school.
I suppose if one wants to hear about the changes after the intimate situation I had with Francine, I guess I could count. I've been feeling really down as of late and I'm positive the reason is because I lost my virginity to someone who neither cares about me nor is married to me. Yeah, that's a double-nothing. Why did I do it? Believe me when I say this: it was temptation.
Second Person Point of View
Fanboy sighed rather unhappily and carefully shut his violet-hued notebook, crinkling several fine sheets in the process. "Why doesn't she care?" He wondered as he shoved it into his purple backpack. "I do! Why doesn't she?" He rested his cheek against a gloved hand and tried tuning out of his teacher's droning.
An additional reflection crossed the teenagers mind. "W-what if I wasn't her first?" He thought in horror. If she were willing to give herself up to him of all people, who was to say she had not done it before? "That's gross! What if I got some sort of disease?" Fanboy shuddered quietly at the disturbing notion.
Why did he do it? What was he searching for in the first place when he had entered her room that intimate hour of darkness? Had he been rummaging around for love? It was a question he was not entirely keen of. He did not love her. "But still!" He thought fiercely. "I had sex with her! She was the one who let me..." His head collapsed on the wooden desktop, drawing the temporarily unwanted attention of his best friend and sidekick in training, who nudged him quietly.
"Fanboy? Oh Fanboy?" He whispered to the older boy in a rather confused manner. "Are you okay?" This wasn't like him to be in stay like this; it wasn't natural! "Are you sick?"
"I think so," Fanboy replied raucously, bracing his head for a moment to give a fleeting look at the other male. "Tell Mr. Mufflin that I need to go to Nurse Lady Pam's office, will you, Buddy? I have some unfinished business I need to take care of as well." He shakily stood out of his desk and made the impression of a weak, wobbly soul. "I-I feel dizzy."
Chum Chum nodded in concern and did just that.
Francine's Point of View
I can't believe myself. I just can't believe myself. What was I thinking? I let Fanboy of all people into my bedroom, and let him f*ck me! Was I just hormonal and looking for something more? God! I don't even like him and I sucked his pricking dick! I feel so sickening. No, I feel used! Yeah, that's it! I feel honest-to-God used! And I know what everyone will think. Oh Francine is such a slut. She'll let anyone take her. What a cheap whore. No, I'm not like that. I only...it was only him!
I can't say it was his fault, because it wasn't. It was my fault. I turned him on and persuaded him into taking my body. But I'm not a slut! I promise you. You can call me names, but it isn't true.
Now, I'm suffering for having sex. I keep having these stomach cramps and illnesses. I'm practically making myself sick because I'm filled to the brim with anxiety. Shit, what if he had a disease? I feel like a mess. I know I'm ignoring Fanboy, I know. But something happened when we had sex. I felt it. I felt his seed enter me. It wasn't until later when I found out. I used the bathroom, and I felt it drip out of me.
... I don't know what will happen, and if nothing does, he's going to be ignored and that's that. if the worst happens, I feel he should know. As of now though, he better just stay out of my way.
I hear a little commotion in the back of the room and I look back and see Fanboy hobbling towards the door and Chum Chum whispering something to Mr. Mufflin. I sit next to the door, so of course, Fanboy wobbles toward me. I want to stare down at my desk but my eyes flicker up anyway. For a fraction of a second, his green eyes meet mine, and I can see for instant how hurt he is. I can see it in his eyes. Francine, we need to talk. Then he's gone. I sigh and sneak out with him.
Second Person Point of View
The two teens shuffled through the dimly-lit hallway, pretending to be unaware of each other, Francine more than Fanboy. They were not quite sure of where to go, for either way they would be alone at this time.
Surprisingly, Francine was the first to speak. "You're not really sick, are you?" I halfhearted shrug was her solitary response. "Then why did you-?" She began, but he cut her off out of the blue. He held his lanky arm out in front of her, causing her to stop momentarily before she shoved past.
"Hold on Francine! I need to talk to you!" Fanboy insisted, catching hold of her wrist, to which she yanked away.
"About...?" She questioned, rubbing her pale, fragile wrist.
"You know what about," The teenager snapped accusingly. "I want to ask you why you've been ignoring me. Why have you been so secretive after we've shared such a special time together? I demand an straightforward answer." Francine's eyes flickered to the aluminum floor and she mumbled something unintelligible. Fanboy folded his arms rigidly and stared intently at the girl through his eyes thinned into slits. "I would much rather get a straight answer, thank you. Because you know what? I feel used!"
"No! It isn't like that!" Francine denied.
"Then what is it?"
Francine's heart hammered rapidly in her chest as fear overtook her being. How was she to tell him of her assumption? Neither of them thought about the nearly ostensibly impossible consequences that were now...obviously not entirely impractical. She dreaded telling him. However, he was more involved than anyone and he had the right to know. With a deep inhale the teenage girl stared straight into the eyes of her questioner and answered. "I think I maybe pregnant," in the most confident tone she could muster.
It was as if a bomb dropped.
Fanboys jaw dropped, hanging, as his emerald eyes expanded from shock. Francine looked away to some lockers and folded her arms over her chest for a sense of security.
"Y-You're... You-You're...?" He whispered. He could not bear to say it, and instead tried to shake his head clear.
Francine held up her hands as if she were to defend herself. "Hold on! I said maybe. MAYBE I'm pregnant," she amended. "MAYBE! That night after we had sex, I went to the bathroom to wash up, and I saw some of your semen dripping out of me. So I think I may become pregnant. That was why I was ignoring you I-I just wanted to confirm." It was not entirely the truth, but she couldn't have cared less at the moment. He had gained the knowledge of her predicament now. And now there was no going back. "Anyway," she continued, flipping her blonde hair behind her slim shoulder, "if I am pregnant, I'm going to abort it this afternoon after school so you won't have to worry about it, okay?"
Fanboy was in a complete daze, still processing her words when the next bomb arrived, and this round was lethal. "Wait, WHAT?!" He screeched, causing her to jump in shock at this unexpected outburst. He shook his head rapidly from side to side, unmistakably panicking. "NONONONONONONONO! You can't do that Francine!"
"Huh? Why wouldn't you want me to?" Francine asked, squinting her eyes at him in confusion.
Fanboy kept shaking his head in utter disbelief. "No. No. No. Francine you can't do that! You can't kill it!"
"Kill it?" Francine scoffed in irritation. "It isn't even alive yet!"
"BULLSHIT!" He yelled again, catching her off guard. "That is such..." He paused, trying to calm himself. "Francine, that has got to be the stupidest thing you've said...this week. The baby IS alive! It isn't dead, is it?"
"Well, no. Not technically," Francine admitted. "But it's my right so I'm going to make my decision. It's a woman's right, Fanboy!"
"It shouldn't be!" Fanboy retorted, completely outraged by what he was hearing. What happened to her meticulous faith in life? "It shouldn't be your right to kill! Besides, it's my son or daughter too! You can't do it!"
Francine scoffed and crossed her arms stubbornly. "Is that so?" She sneered at the teenage male with absolute contempt. "Well you can't make me change my decision, so what are you going to do about it?"
Fanboy stood there steaming. He was shocked. Purely shocked. Francine was going to kill a child without even batting an eye? It was disgusting and made his stomach churn with distaste. "I won't let you. Francine, it's called murder. How can you not understand that?" The girl just shook her head and began to walk in the opposite direction, Fanboy following close behind her, practically breathing down her neck. Suddenly, she felt his hands wrap tightly around her ankles. The unpredicted contact caused her to squeal and almost trip. "FANBOY! What the hell are you doing?" He was on his stomach, tears actually pouring out of his eyes in mini rivers down his cheeks.
"Oooooh, PLEEEEEEEAAAAAAASE!" He sobbed. "Francine, you know I would do anything to help you if you really are pregnant. I would. I would go out to the ends of the earth to help you with this, b-because I love you!" The grandiose girl didn't even bother to escape. Actually she did try, but unfortunately he had latched onto her ankles seemingly in a perma-lock grip, and had not a chance of escape his grasp unless she solemnly agreed not to have an abortion.