"So the first thing we're going to do," I told him. "Is push you off the roof."

The smile faded from his face. "What?"

"Thank you for taking air Max." I smirked and stepped forward, placing my hands on his chest. "Have a nice flight."

With that, I shoved him as hard as I could off the top of the building. The last thing I saw of Dylan was one of his flashy red Converse sneakers, which was pried from his foot when the edge of the gutter caught it. A second after he had disappeared completely, except for his one flying shoe, I started counting in my head.

1...2…3.

Dylan shot from the depths of the house into the sky above my head. His wings were strong and as brilliant as his face as they sparkled in the light of the half moon. His eyes were shining a liquid silver color rather than his normal turquoise glint and the light cast a long shadow across his perfect features.

"I'm flying!" he cried as a broad smile lit his face. "I'm actually flying!"

I couldn't help smiling myself, as I remembered the first time I ever flew. Now, every time I spread my wings, I allowed myself to be filled with the same feelings of joy, giddiness and pure adrenaline as when Jeb first taught me.

"Max!" Dylan called to me. "I'm coming in!"

That's when he started to dive. Toward the roof.

"No, wait Dylan! STOP-"

But it was already too late. I heard the loud thump as Dylan tried to stop himself with his arms, which resulted in him ricocheting off the tiling. He flailed helplessly in the air before smashing face first in the dirt.

I stood stunned for a minute. "Hey! Are you ok?"

Dylan slowly sat up and spit on the ground. "Ugh. I had no idea dirt tasted so bad." He stretched out his legs in front of him. "Hey, where's my other shoe?"

I couldn't help but laugh. Like, hysterically.

"Your flying was pretty good." I managed to get out between snorts of laughter ('Cause there is no way you would ever find me giggling like an idiot). "But your landing just made the whole thing a complete failure."

"I guess that wasn't the best idea I've ever had." He ran a hand though his hair self-consciously.

"By the way," I said trying to look past his dirt smeared face. You're shoe is over by the wall."

"Whoa." He seemed disoriented. "When did that happen?"

"Right after I pushed you off the house. My theory was that you were too freaked to notice when it happened."

"You're probably right." He had walked to the bright red object and slid it back on his foot. "Hey, how did you know I would fly instead of fall when you pushed?"

"It always works," I shrugged. "Fear is the best motivator. Now that you've flown once, you'll never forget. All you've got to do now is stick the landing and not crash into anymore roofs while you're at it."

He smirked, "Watch me."