A/N: HEY! Sorry I forgot about the author's note in the last chapter. Thank you guys sooo much for the awesome reviews! I didn't think anyone would review, let alone add me to their favorites! Or add me to some alert thing, whatever that is. And yes, Nellie the platypus, I will update. Now don't you feel special? And if Katie is reading this, STOP! IT WILL SPOIL THE REST OF THE BOOKS! SPOILER ALERT! Sorry, my best friend is only on the second book. R&R!!

Eww. I flushed the toilet and started to leave the bathroom. Then I realized that Fang might be waiting for me, so I decided I should probably brush my teeth. Vomit-breath is not a very appealing sent for a girlfriend to have. Girlfriend? I don't really know if I would consider us boyfriend and girlfriend. It just seems weird, you know, so normal, like we didn't grow up in an evil scientist lab and have wings and stuff. Plus, we haven't really discussed our situation. For the time being, I'm apparently sick and Fang has to be nice to me. When I left the tiny, ill-ventilated, vomit-smelling bathroom, I laid back down on the couch clutching my stomach.

"You okay?" Fang asked from the cushy living room chair. I knew he'd pop up somewhere.

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about me," I said, motioning to the bucket on the floor. He handed it to me and I proceeded to barf my cookies out into it. Wow, I didn't think I had any cookies left.

"That might have been a little more convincing if you didn't puke right after you said it," Fang said as he sat down on the floor next to me and stroked my hair. He could tell I was scared. If someone in the Flock gets sick, it has to be serious. We kinda have super-human immune systems, remember? Then I saw my mom walk in with her medical stuff, and Fang subtlety scooted away from me. Mom and Ella were home today because it was Saturday. Oh, and if you were wondering how I got out of that little situation with Dr. M and me lying about Fang's back being messed up, well, then you're just going to have to keep wondering, because I still don't know. All I know was that Dr. M. had talked to Fang about "his injury." I wonder if he covered for me. I bet he did, because if mom figured it out, we would both be in trouble, not just me. But anyway, now he was acting kind of pissed. I think she might have told him about how I was sleeping on the floor, and he made the connection that I didn't want to be anywhere near him that morning, which isn't entirely true. I just didn't want him to wake up and feel obligated to talk to me, or cuddle, or something. We haven't talked about the… incident since. But anyway, back to my stomach pains. Mom walked up with her med-kit and took my temperature.

"Oh my goodness! We have to get you into an ice bath right now!" she said franticly as she looked at the little screen on the thermometer.

"Chill, mom. We're always hot, remember?" I told her. Fang chuckled.

"I didn't mean that in a cocky way. Hot, like, temperature wise, not I'm so sexy wise. You know what I meant." Fang kept smirking and left the room.

"Oh, right. I'm just not used to seeing temperatures that high. Sorry," she said putting the thermometer back in the kit. She did some other doctorly things, like check my blood pressure, look in my eyes and ears, and listen to my heartbeat with a stethoscope. All of which were somewhat abnormal, thanks to that little two percent, so the information was basically useless. I really did not enjoy being poked at with all the medical instruments. The blood pressure thingy hurt my arm, the light she shined in my eyes was way too bright, she yanked on my ears too hard, and the stethoscope thing was abnormally cold. And I never complain. About anything. Ever. I think it just brought up a lot of old memories from the School, so it freaked me out.

After awhile, mom decided that she couldn't find anything wrong with me.

"It's probably nothing. Just get some sleep and don't move around too much. It'll make you nauseous. And drink a lot of fluids. I think you could keep down some soup. How about I whip you up some?" Mom said. I felt like crap inside, but it felt good to know she cared.

"That's okay Dr. M. I've got it covered," said Iggy, who was walking out of the kitchen with a tray of soup. There's my favorite little blind pyromaniac/chef.

"Thanks Ig. That's really thoughtful of you, but you don't have to baby me. I'm fine," I said as he handed me the soup.

"Oh, believe me, I'm not. Fang was worried about you so he told me to make you soup or die. I chose soup, cause the later is… unpleasant."

"Ah. I take back my thoughtful comment," I said, and Iggy was already out of the room by the time I finished my sentence. Nice. After I ate the soup, I fell back asleep.

When I finally opened my eyes, I saw Angel staring at me with a look of confusion on her face. She's a cute kid, but man, the girl freaks me out. In the famous words of Ellen DeGeneres "She freaks my freak!"

"Hey Ange. What's wrong?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. I was feeling much better than I did this morning.

"Oh, nothing Max. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah actually. Did you just come to check on me, or did you need something?" I asked. She just kept looking at me.

"Sweetie?" She was still staring at me.

"Oh, sorry Max. I'm just getting kind of a weird feeling from your mind," Angel said, still concentrating on reading my mind.

"Angel, what did I tell you about reading my mind?" I scolded. What if she knew about me and Fang? Crap. That's like, practically all I've been thinking about since that night.

"You told me not to. But Max, I was worried about you because you looked like you were having a bad dream. When I tried to check, there was something else in your head. I don't know what it is. I'm scared Max," she said. That's weird.

"Maybe you were sensing The Voice. Was it Jeb?" I asked. That would make sense.

"No, I don't think so. I've never noticed The Voice before. Besides, I would've recognized Jeb. I always used to read his mind." Hmmm, if it's not The Voice, then who is it?

"Ange, do you think it could've just been because I'm sick?" I know it doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but what in my life does?

"I really don't think so Max."

"Don't take this the wrong way sweetie, but are you really, really sure? You could have just made a mistake. Maybe it was just me you were hearing," I said. Angel looked disappointed, like I didn't trust her.

"No, I'm sure," she said, and walked out of the room, probably to go pout somewhere. I really didn't want to make her feel stupid, I was just confused about what she said. I still think it was just The Voice that she heard.

It wasn't me, Max.

Perfectly on cue, there was The Voice.

A/N: OOOOH! CLIFFY!! Not really. So, I thought this chappie was getting too long, so I kinda ended it in a weird place. The next chapter continues from there. P.S. listen to Fall Out Boy!! Sorry, randomness.