The girl in the dark brown wig

Three weeks later . . .

Fang adjusted his backpack on his lap and sighed out the window of the bus. Absentmindedly, he circled his wrist with his middle finger and thumb as he thought about another dreaded day of school.

He hated the kids who sneered and taunted him in the corridors. He hated when the teachers pulled him back after class to discuss his grades dropping at an alarming rate and asking if everything was alright at home.

But most of all, he hated the looks that people gave him. Pitying, almost fearful, empathic. Glad that no matter how bad their lives may seem, at least they weren't as messed up as Fang. Sympathetic, afraid. Almost as if to ask the silent question running through everyone's mind:

"What happened to you? What have you become?"

Some people looked at him as if to say, "I know what you're going through. Don't worry; it gets better."

But how could they possibly know what he was going through when he didn't even know himself.

He was jolted from his thoughts when the bus screeched to a stop outside hell, a.k.a high school.

Sighing, he mentally braced himself for yet another day at school, slung his backpack onto his shoulder and slouched out of the bus, taking his time in order to not arrive at school any sooner than need be.

Kids pushed past him along the bus aisle, laughing, gossiping, joking around him as if he were invisible. I might as well be, he thought dryly to himself, maybe then people would miss me.

14 . . . 27 . . . 3

With a click, Fang's locker opened. He dumped his bag in and started gathering his books. He quickly glanced at his timetable.

Biology.

Great. Another class sitting alone at the back of the room, having to pair up with the teacher because no one wanted to be his partner dissecting various animals.

He slammed his locker shut and started to head off towards class – BANG.

Suddenly he was slammed into his locker side on, his books toppling to the ground. His shoulder began to ache dully.

Rubbing it, he turned around to see a tall burly boy with dark curls and piercing blue eyes sneer spitefully at him. Dylan.

"What's wrong, Francesca?" he spat, "Can't take a playful shove like a real man, huh? No wonder Ig dumped you – you're such a pussy skinny-ass girl!"

He slapped the strawberry-blond boy by his side on the back.

"Um, yeah. Right." Iggy muttered, looking away.

Fang glared at Dylan. "Just fuck off, alright?" he snarled. "I don't wanna see your ugly face anymore."

"Me? Ugly?" Dylan scoffed. "Have you looked in the mirror lately? You're one to talk."

He turned to Iggy. "Come on, Ig. Let's leave this dick to sulk in the girls' bathrooms." He started to walk away.

"Later, douche bag." He called over his shoulder.

Iggy looked pityingly at Fang for a moment and opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but quickly closed it and hurried off to catch up with Dylan.

Sometimes Fang wished that Iggy would just taunt him and shove him around like Dylan did – it would be so much easier to hate him. But this – the silence and the pitying looks and all the apologies and arguments left unsaid – well, this was so much worse.

Fang dumped his books onto the empty bench at the back of the biology lab and slumped into the seat.

Giggling and chattering sounded around the room before the teacher swept into the room, scattering everyone into a mad dash to their seats.

He absentmindedly mumbled "here" when the roll was called and promptly continued to block out the drone of the teacher, doodling on his notebook. The clicking of the door opening jerked him out of his thoughts.

"Hi," said a familiar voice, though he couldn't quite place it. "Are you Mr. Fitzgerald?"

The teacher grunted in reply, ruffled at the interruption to his lecture.

Fang lifted his head only to find the brown haired girl he met at the hospital a few weeks ago standing at the front of the class.

"Hi! I'm Maxine Ride. But you can call me Max. I'm starting at this school today!" she held out her hand at Mr. Fitzgerald.

He stared at it as if it were some kind of slimy creature that you find on the underside of a rock. Her grin slid off her face and she lowered her hand.

"Thank you, Miss Ride for interrupting my class. Please take a seat." He gestured lazily towards the classroom and started talking again.

Max scanned the classroom for an empty seat, ignoring the whispers and stares, landing on the empty seat next to Fang, and finally on Fang himself. Her eyes widened in recognition and she grinned as she made her way towards him.

She dropped her books noisily onto the bench and scraped the chair up to her before plopping into it - Mr. Fitzgerald glared at her for making loud disturbances in his class before continuing his lecture.

"Hey, aren't you that kid I met at the hospital the other day?" she asked, though quietly so as not to disturb the teacher.

"Yeah." Fang muttered to the desk, continuing to doodle on his notebook. He didn't want to get his hopes up; why would a girl like her possibly want to be friends with a guy like him?

"Fang, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Ma-"

"I know."

"You don't speak much, do you?" she asked, raising her eyebrow at him.

He ignored her and kept doodling.

"Whatcha drawing?" she asked.

Fang attempted to cover it with an arm, but she had already ripped the notebook away from him. She looked at the drawing for a few moments before looking up at him, her eyes full of admiration.

"Woah, you're good at drawing. I wish I was that good." She said, giving the notebook back to him. "All I can draw are lame-ish cartoons of various of my elementary school teachers spontaneously bursting into flame."

"Uh, thanks? I guess." Fang said uncertainly.

They were silent for a while, Mr. Fitzgerald's monotone droning on, resonating dully in their ears.

"So, you're out of hospital now I take it?" Fang asked finally.

"Yeah," Max said happily. "I've been in remission for a week now. They just had to run some tests, but then I was good to go. I've just been slouching around my house for the past few days, bumming out my brother. But now I get to come to school! First time in almost a year!"

"Woah. That must be, uh interesting. School living up to your expectations so far?"

"Well, the form teacher was nice," Max said thoughtfully, "but I could do without this one." She gestured towards Mr. Fitzgerald and wrinkled her nose.

Fang paused before asking Max something he had been wondering about. "Hey uh don't take this the wrong way but, aren't people with cancer bald?"

"Oh that. Well I did used to have very little hair but it's growing back now. See?" She grabbed her long brown locks and tugged until they came off to reveal short, slightly lighter brown tufts of hair growing out unevenly around her head.

She still looks beautiful. A rouge thought ran through Fang's mind.

"Woah," Fang said, staring at her hair. "I totally thought your wig was real."

"Yeah, well," Max said, pulling the wig back on and adjusting it so that it was relatively straight. "Some people only see what they want to see."

They were quiet for a few moments as Max continued to fix her wig, running her fingers through the dark strands. "Hey, you never told me why you were at hospital?"

"Oh, I wasn't doing much." Fang said. He didn't really want to talk about that.

"What, were you picking daises or something? Ooh! I bet you were in for some kind of STD. your promiscuous lifestyle finally caught up to you, no doubt."

He gave her an incredulous look. "What kind of person do you think I am?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Seriously though. Why were you there?" she asked, frowning with concern. She leaned closer. "Do you have some kind of incurable disease that you're not telling me about?"

"Nah, it's just my mum." He said, rolling his eyes. "Worrying about a particularly ugly brown mole on her back. Wondering whether it was somehow linked to skin cancer, and whether she should get it removed. 'Course, the real reason she wants it gone is 'cos she thinks it's ugly. Says she won't be able to wear her bikini come summertime."

Max laughed. "Eww! A middle-aged version of Fang in a bikini! How quaint!"

Fang crinkled his face in mock disgust.

Even as he told the lie, he could feel his heart dropping to his stomach but he knew it was better this way.

He thought back to when his mum started to get suspicious. During the last few weeks, he had managed to convince her otherwise, but now it was time to get back on track. He'd lost enough time as it was.

And besides, there wasn't anything wrong anyway.

Just his mother overreacting, as usual.

Dear reader,

Love it, hate it?

Anyone curious about Fang? Anyone at all?

No? Yeah, me neither :o

Bow ties are cool,

Necrophobia :)