I flew up to the top of the house to let the rope down, and could feel Dylan's eyes on my tawny wings. I forced myself to stay calm.
I let the rope down and Dylan climbed up.
"So… about the whole pushing me off the roof thing…" he started, but I didn't let him finish.
"It's the best way to learn," I remarked harshly, "If you don't want to learn, we'll have some issues."
He swallowed his fears and faced me with those stunning eyes.
I lost all thoughts.
I literally shook my head, and came out of my daze.
"Ready?" I asked, though merely to sound polite. Even if he wasn't, I was having the really strong temptation to shove him off that roof just for messing with Fang, my flock and me.
He'd learn to fly anyway, so why not enjoy the pushing part of it?
Again, my eyes locked on Dylan's turquoise ones.
Oh my.
"Are you going to do it?" he said, bringing me back to my senses.
I nodded.
"One, two, three…"
I pushed.
I have to admit, if he splatted, I would feel a teensy bit guilty, but hey, Fang and I are soul mates, right?
Right?
I looked at where Dylan had gone, and silently applauded myself.
He was up in the air, circling around a big tree, whooping with delight.
I jumped off to join him.
Well, not really to join him, just to take a fly around the house.
A fly with a super hot avain-human.
Don't let Dylan get to you, Max! I shouted at myself in my brain.
Approaching cliché Disney movie star material (minus the wings) in 3,2,1…
"Hey!" I shouted, trying to be louder than his whooping.
He turned to approach me with a look of pure delight on his face. I recognized the symptoms for bird-kid-having-flown-for-the-first-time-itis.
"Max! This is wonderful!" he exclaimed.
"I know," I responded, "let's try to land you."
After a confused moment of Dylan nearly falling out of a tree, we were back to talking about the wonders of flying.
"It comes so naturally!" he said, slightly dazed.
I should hope so, I thought. I mean, we were bird kids! We ought to know how to fly as an instinct.
Don't be so harsh, my voice instructed.
Don't be so bossy, I shot back.
He's perfect for you.
Fang's perfect for me!
Remember what Angel said.
I was taken aback.
Could Angel have been right?
Fang wasn't dying on me, was he?
Is he?
Trying to shake the thought, I glanced up at an eager looking Dylan. He seemed to be waiting for an answer to something.
"Sorry?" I asked.
" I asked if it always feels that way."
"What feels that way?"
"Flying."
I took a moment to ponder the question.
"Depends on who you're flying with." I answered thinking of flying with Fang versus flying with the whole flock.
"Oh." His face fell into deep thought.
After a moment silent screaming for an awkward turtle to save us, I said, "We should probably bring you back to Jeb."
He stared at me and swallowed, looking heartbroken.
I tried to comfort him, because I thought I knew what his problem was.
"You'll be able to fly again, you know."
He looked at me with those dazzling eyes.
"I thought you said it depended on who you're flying with."
He jumped off and flew over to the house.
It depends on whom you're flying with.
