Because it's the holidays, I've managed to finish a new chapter. :)

Thanks to Random Dude's suggestion, I'm trying to speed a couple things up that I had in mind. I'm also trying to get across the character's personalities a little more, as well as introducing more MRide characters.

SO, enjoy! :)

~Claire

"How does Daddy know where you live?" Angel asked curiously. She seemed relatively calm, and I envied her for that.

"I'm not really sure if he does, sweetie," Paul said, shrugging. He was basically the epitome of nice—I didn't know a single person who would allow a bunch of homeless kids to crash in their home. Especially in such a posh home as Paul had. The one thing that was making me feel uneasy (aside from the whole Jeb thing, obviously) was Paul's wife coming home. What if she didn't approve of us intruding like this?

In other circumstances, I really wouldn't give a damn. But now, well, it seemed … different. And the image of Paul's son, Fang (yes, the Fang, from the zoo. And from outside my window. Boy was he shocked to see me at his front door) in a towel kept replaying over in my head.

What was wrong with me? Worrying about what other people thought and fantasising about some boy's abs? This was a new personal low.

"Alright, kids," Paul announced, "we have a few options." He ran a hand through his impossibly black hair. His eyes were also dark, which kinda contradicted his kind-natured persona. "Either you go with your father—Jeb—or I, well this could get me in trouble, but I can talk to Jeb about, well, everything."

"Everything?" I asked, confused.

"Yes. Iggy told me a lot of things," Paul explained, slightly tentatively.

"What?" Iggy had told him a lot of things? What things?

"Um, nothing," Iggy said hastily. "Can we possibly get something to eat?"

The mention of food made my stomach grumble with hunger, and I was all too eager to get something into my stomach. But what had Paul meant?

"Food!" Gazzy squealed, shooting up from his position on the couch. Angel and Monique, who had been chatting endlessly about clothes (ugh), followed suit.

"I'm starving!" Angel announced, rubbing her stomach.

"Okay, it's about dinner time anyway," Paul laughed, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.

Half an hour and three heaped bowls of pasta later, I stood up and asked, "Can I have some more?"

"Sure, Max, help yourself. There's plenty left," Paul smiled. Apparently he did that a lot. Smiled, I mean.

We had all been seated in the lounge watching a vaguely interesting football match. The only interesting thing had been when somebody was carried off the pitch after a blow to the head. I'd had to stifle a laugh at that point. What? The guy had been okay … well, minor concussion, but whatever. I'd been amused at least.

Fang had come down just before dinner, and my heart had done a little skip. Weird. Anyway, turns out Paul has another kid, too.

13 year old Ella was extremely bubbly and out-going. She, too, was kind-natured, and had been all too happy to meet us all. Her, Monique and Angel had been playing dress-ups for the past twenty minutes. And they kept coming out to show us their new creations. Not that anyone really cared.

"Maxie!" Angel exclaimed, standing in front of me and grinning. She wore a long pink dress that was at least three sizes too big, and a pink tutu. On her feet she wore a pair of large, plastic stiletto's. Her hair was laden with sparkly hair clips and bows. The pink-osity was overwhelming, yet she looked so cute.

"Hey, Ange," I said. "Don't you look cute."

She giggled, again showing how calm and relaxed she was, as she and the creators of her outfit flounced off to lounge. The way Angel wobbled around in the heels made it look like she was about to topple over.

So far, Jeb hadn't showed up. I was picking that he didn't know where Paul lived; and, anyway, I doubt he would actually come around to all the teachers' houses. That'd be kinda stupid, but I guess everything he did was stupid, so it wouldn't surprise me.

I was lost in my own little world when Fang came into the kitchen. I hastily filled my bowl with steaming pasta as he waited in line, bowl at the ready. The tension was awkward. And when I say awkward, I mean awkward.

Fang, as I'd found out, was a man of little words. Aside from the 'crap' he'd muttered when we'd first shown up, he hadn't uttered a single word in my presence. He was also highly skilled at hiding his emotions. It was impossible to tell whether he was annoyed, happy, amused, bored etc etc. It was almost as if he blended in with his surroundings; he was that quiet.

"You finished?" Fang talking took me so off-guard that I dropped the serving spoon on the floor. I felt my cheeks flush—okay, something was up. Me, Maximum Ride, just blushed?

Fang leant down to pick the spoon up, cocking one eyebrow upwards.

"Sorry," I mumbled, grabbing my plate and heading, fast, towards the lounge.

"Wait—uh, Max," Fang called after me. I turned around, half expecting him to crack up laughing at me.

"Yeah?"

"I—I'm sorry about your Mum," Fang mumbled, looking into the pasta pot. And that's when I saw it—a flash of, hold up, was that sympathy? In an instant he was back to his normal expression as he spooned pasta into his bowl, looking everywhere but at me.

"Uh, thanks, Fang," I said, slipping through the door into the lounge.

Everybody but Paul had cleared out. The television had been flicked off.

"He lost his mother too, you know," Paul told me, biting his lip.

"What? You said that your wife was his Mum?" I said, confused.

"Step-mother." Paul shrugged. "Anyway, his mother died when he was only young."

"Oh, I'm sorry …"

"Everyone else has gone off to sleep. Would you mind sleeping here? I'd offer you one of the other rooms, but Iggy and Gazzy have the spare room and Ella, Monique and Angel are sleeping out in Ella's room."

"I'll be alright here," I said. "Thanks for everything."

I hoped I sounded at least a little sincere. Thank-you's had never been my strong point.

"That's quite alright, Max." Paul smiled. "Good night, sleep well."

[Time lapse to morning]

"What are we doing today?" Monique asked as she wolfed down her serving of pancakes. Paul had gone off to work—his wife had showed up in the middle of the night and had left early in the morning, so we hadn't met her yet.

Apparently Fang had a day off to study for upcoming exams (God I was pleased to be missing those), so we hadn't seen him yet. I suspected he was still sleeping. Unfortunately, I hadn't had the luxury of a sleep in. Angel had woken me at the crack of dawn—well, eight o'clock. But it was still too early for my liking.

"Not sure," I shrugged. "Probably just hanging around."

"Can't we do something fun?" Gazzy pleaded. He and Iggy had already hit it off—apparently they both had a love of all things explosive and fire-related. "I heard there's a firework display just out of town this evening!"

"We might have to skip that one, Gazzy …" I laughed.

Paul had left a note stating that Jeb was still 'looking for us'. I didn't care, and he hadn't found us here yet, so I wasn't counting on it happening anytime soon. I was just ready to start a new life.

"Maxie, could we go to a theme park?" Angel asked, her eyes alight. She loved theme parks—last time we'd gone, a few years back, she had been obsessed with the carousel ride. And I was the one who'd had to accompany her every time.

"Uh …" I wasn't keen on the idea.

"Yes! Theme park!" Monique squealed.

"Totally!" Gazzy and Iggy yelled in unison. Why was it that I was always outnumbered?

"Theme park it is," I sighed.

[Time lapse to theme park]

"Carousel!" Angel exclaimed, tugging on my sleeve. "Can we go, Maxie? Please?"

"Monique, can you take Angel?" I asked, looking pleadingly over at Monique, who was staring open-mouthed at all the rides. She and Gazzy had never been to a theme park before, as I'd found out. Something about their father hating crowds.

"Yes!" Monique smiled, took Angel's hand, and they were off, just like that. Funny how easy it was to entertain little kids.

"Gaz, let's go to the Mountain of Terror!" Iggy grinned devilishly. Apparently he'd heard about it on t.v. I could just see him planning in his head a way to dismantle the ride.

"Oh my God, yes, yes, yes!" Gazzy looked over at me, and I rolled my eyes and nodded. Boys will be boys, I guess.

That left me and Fang. He had eventually woken up just as we were leaving, and Gazzy and Iggy had asked if he wanted to come. Fang had agreed, exams forgotten, I guess. Trust me; it was hard finding a taxi for all six of us.

"I'm thinking of going on The Viper," I told Fang. "Wanna come?"

The Viper was, apparently, the fastest rollercoaster at the theme park. And it looked pretty darn awesome. Some of the drops were even more vertical than the Mountain of Terror, and it was said to last under ten seconds. I felt like I needed an adrenaline rush; and this was sure to be it, no doubt.

Fang shrugged. I took that as a yes.

The line was metres long, and I honestly couldn't be bothered waiting that long. I edged into the line so that we would be only a few people away from getting in a coaster. I started chatting to a couple of the people there, pretending I knew them. They were confused, but it shut the rest of the people up, who would have otherwise complained.

"Smooth," Fang smirked, raising an eyebrow like he'd done the night before. I returned a half-smile.

I had to admit it—he looked good today. He'd opted to wear a pair of black skinny jeans (surprise, surprise—I gathered his whole wardrobe consisted of black), a black graphic tee and a pair of black Converse shoes. His hair was messy and verging on long in length, but it suited him.

"Next," the ride operator yelled, ushering us through a door. We were the last two to go through, into a dark room. Lights on the floor allowed us a bit of light so we could actually see where the rollercoaster was. It was a small thing that could only hold ten people. The sides were painted pink and green, with the words 'THE VIPER—BE AFRAID' written in graffiti-style on the side.

"Please climb aboard The Viper and pull the safety bar over your lap." a robotic voice echoed around the room.

Fang and I hopped in the back, pulled the safety bar over our laps and waited. The bar didn't seem all that safe, considering it only rested across our laps, but nobody had died so far so I assumed it was somewhat safe.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1," the voice counted down, and then a siren blasted as the ride took off. The thing was so fast I felt as though my skin was going to peel off. It felt like I was in one of those cartoons where people's skin goes all flappy and their eyeballs pop out.

I managed a glance over at Fang; he looked pretty bewildered, and I had to laugh at his expression. His hair was flying out in all directions.

He heard my laughter, glanced across at me and smirked again. Apparently I looked pretty funny, too.

All in all, the ride seemed to last about two seconds, so it seemed. Everything was spinning as I stepped out and wobbled around on my feet. Almost everyone on board looked pretty queasy—one guy looked as though he were about to puke.

"That—was—horrifyingly—fast," I wheezed as we stepped out of the building.

"That was epic," Fang said. "What next?"

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