Max P.O.V.

I stared at the kitchen table in horror. There on a large, round, white plate were two chocolate chip cookies, surrounded by a scatter of cookie crumbs, and a note. A simple, small, folded up note that read "Max" on the front in my mom's neatest handwriting.

Dear Max, it read. I'm sorry this isn't your usual batch of cookies, but the Flock sort of beat you to the table. Plus, you looked so peaceful sleeping; I didn't have it in me to wake you. I've taken them and Ella to the beach for a bit, and we should be home by five o'clock. And don't worry, I'll be sure to make you your own personal batch of cookies when we get back. Love, Mom

Now, I'm not the type of birdkid that gets upset over things like…not having a batch of warm, fresh-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies that my mom makes but—oh, who am I kidding? Right now, I've got a mix of emotions bubbling up inside of me, and the only thing I'm really thinking is "MY COOKIES!"

Sure, it sounds kind of stupid. Why would I, Maximum Ride, care so much about cookies? Well, seriously, have you TASTED these? They melt in your mouth! It's heaven on earth!

I glanced at the clock. 4:45PM. Okay, so that just meant it was about another twenty five more minutes. That's not too long. Just another almost half an hour…

Tick-tock, tick-tock…I stared at the clock, anxiously awaiting five o'clock to come. Tick-tock, tick-tock…Still 4:34PM…Tick-tock, tick-tock…

That's it. This clock mocking me isn't making me anymore patient. I've watched my mom make cookies enough times. How hard could it possibly be?

I took out all the ingredients and stole a quick glance at the clock after scouring the kitchen for utensils from drawers and such. 4:39 PM. Why did time have to be so slow?

"Okay, so all I have to do is…" I looked blankly at the ingredients and utensils. Huh. And I thought this was going to be easy. "Well…maybe if I put the eggs…" So I cracked open some eggs and, well…I guess I could say I don't have the best aim.

Staring down at the egg on the floor, I reached for the paper towels while bending down to wipe it up. And you know what I'd managed to knock over while grabbing the paper towels? The flour.

I screeched as the bag of flour toppled over and crashed, opened, onto my head, spilling out everywhere; on the floor, on my shirt, in my hands, and in my hair. Okay, so maybe it was that hard. Well, if I just clean it up, they'll never have to know—

"Max, what happened?" My mom, Dr. Martinez, demanded, eyes widening every second she took in the image of this scene. I'd been so preoccupied with my own thoughts I hadn't noticed her come in; or anyone for that matter.

"I was…well…" I bit my lip and felt some color crawl to my cheeks when the Flock came into view, which made it worse. You know why? Because Maximum Ride does not blush. And that's exactly what she was doing right now.

"What happened in here?" Angel asked in a quiet voice, her blue eyes wide, still not as wide as my mom's, who was still waiting for an answer. Her innocent face seemed to be twisted with emotions at the moment.

"Yeah, Max, it looks like a tornado tore through here," Nudge commented, and for once, she seemed somewhat speechless. She pushed her dark, corkscrew brown hair out of her face, still awestruck with what a mess I'd made.

"It's messy," the Gasman, or Gazzy, pointed out. You'd think he'd have the same reaction as everyone else, but he just seemed to be searching for a visable bomb.

Since Iggy couldn't see, he stood there with his brows furrowed in both frustration and confusion. He seemed to be squinting at what everyone else was staring at, but I knew, feeling my stomach turn, that he only saw blackness. "What? What did she do?"

Fang, on the other hand, could see everything clearly and was, so far, the only one who hadn't said anything. He just stood there with his arms crossed, and a smirk on his face.

"Did you try to bake?" Fang grinned at me, and it took me a moment to recognize he was actually speaking, or grinning. Because not only did Fang keep his mouth shut most of the time, he showed a lack of emotion. To get a grin from him, something incredibly stupid had to happen. I guess you could say I looked like an idiot right now.

My mom was the next person to speak. "Max, sweetheart…couldn't you have just waited for me?" And she laughed a little. And then they all laughed; more than a little.

"Fang, can you help Max clean up? I'm just going to run out to the store and buy some more ingredients." She laughed a bit again and then turned to the Flock, while Fang walked over to me. I vaguely heard her say to them, "Who wants to come and buy more snacks?"

I brushed the majority of stuff off of me and straightened up. "I didn't know you were this good in the kitchen," Fang smirked, passing by me and tossing me a roll of paper towels.

"We're cleaning up the kitchen…with paper towels?" I stared at the roll in my hand.

"Do you have a better idea?" He turned on the sink and ran some water on a few folded up paper towels, and knelt on the floor, wiping up some flour and egg. Shrugging, I followed his example and knelt across from him, doing the same.

"All this for cookies, huh?" he smirked at me, eyeing the kitchen. I didn't respond and kept cleaning. And he was silent for the rest of our little clean-up time.