Disclaimer: I don't own anything James Patterson owns, nor any brand/place you recognize.

Claimer: I own my plot and my work in general.


Chapter 9


Day 7 - Sunday - November 1

Surprise, surprise. I slept in yet again.

It was kind of funny, actually. I woke up and, after coming to my senses and realizing I was not falling down a rabbit hole, I let my mind wander for a moment. I then realized exactly where I was, and what had happened before I landed myself where I was (you know… nearly getting mugged, running back to the apartment, stuff that happened before I went to bed…) I freaked a little and thought about going back to sleep.

That was when I wondered how many hours I had to kill before someone came in to look for me. Imagine my surprise when I feel around my nightstand for my cell phone and… voila! I miraculously find out it's half past noon.

I didn't fall off the bed, mind you. I just… I hit my head on the wall. Deal with it.

While nursing my bruised head, I wondered where Fang and Angel were. Surely not still sleeping… maybe watching TV? Playing the pink game of doom?

After thinking on it for a while, I decided to wake up first, investigate later. So I took a shower and got dressed, and then I stepped out of my room with a confused look on my face.

I didn't Fang nor Angel anywhere in the apartment (which, by the way, did worry me a little), but I did find a rather attractive-looking stack of waffles waiting for me in the kitchen. I picked up my plate, and that was when I found the note, strategically located under my breakfast plate. Smart, Fang. Real smart.

After taking a bite out of my [cold] waffles, I picked up the note and read while I chewed:

Max,

Angel wanted to go to the park. She woke me up at an ungodly hour of the morning, muttering something about the sunrise. I was sleepy and I got the Bambi eyes. We agreed to let you sleep, however—waking you up sounded dangerous.

I don't know how long we'll be out, so if you're reading this, it must mean she wanted to stay or something. Meet up with us at the park once you're done eating—by the way, you have to place the plate in the microwave for about 30 seconds. (AKA, press the 3, then the 0, and then START. Call me if you have any doubts or if the microwave somehow blows up.)

See you at the park,

-Angel & Fang.

I rolled my eyes and set the note down. Then I looked down at my waffles. Cold waffles, or risking the microwave?

Wait a minute. Where is the microwave, anyway?

P-R-O-J-E-C-T : F-A-M-I-L-Y

I did find the microwave, for those curious peeps out there. And I didn't blow it up.

After I finished eating and brushed my teeth, I headed out to the park. On the way there, I got a text from J.J., something I found a little surreal. I hadn't heard from her—at all—in the entire week! My life away from the project felt kind of distant, not quite mine.

It was a strange feeling.

J.J.'s text read as follows:

MAX!

HAPPY B-DAY 2 U! You're a hundred and two! I've missed you this we-eek, AAAAAND… I don't know what could rhyme with two. Ooh! This: And you've missed me too! I'm such a genius.

Anyhow. How's everything? Hmm? Kill anyone yet? Thought about it?

Be nice, Max! I'll see you tomorrow—and I want to hear everything.

-J.J.

For a moment I just stood there. I even checked the date on my phone. Oh, yeah, I thought. Today's my birthday. Again, surprise, surprise.

Grinning, I started to reply to the text when something occurred to me. Tomorrow. I'll see you tomorrow.

My birthday. November 1. Sunday. Last day of the project. Last day with Angel.

I felt like someone had punched me in the gut. Talk about a birthday to remember.

After I clicked Send, I noticed I had another unread text, this one from Ella.

Happy Birthday, Max! (Yes, today is your birthday. Yesterday was Halloween. It's been 365 days since you last forgot your birthday. Starting to remember? Yeah? Hurray!)

Have a great time today, alright? I'll kick Fang's butt if you report otherwise. Iggy called last night, by the way—he had some strange things to say… at least I know you're all still alive and kicking. But, Alice in Wonderland, Max? That sounds like a promising story.

I'll see you tonight, okay? Have a great day!

Love, Ella.

PS. Mom asks if you could call her whenever you get the change.

I typed a reply while walking to the park, thinking about Ella and Mom. They felt kind of foreign, too.

I arrived at the park a few moments after clicking Send and, imagine my surprise, no one was there. I scanned the entire park closely, but it was completely abandoned. That was particularly strange—nearly one pm, Sunday… shouldn't the place be a little more crowded?

I sat down on a bench, taking my phone out. I figured calling Mom now wouldn't be a bad idea. Fang and Angel could wait, wherever they were.

A little voice in the back of my mind told me I should be worrying… if they weren't at the park, like they'd said they'd be…

I shrugged it off. Not likely.

The phone rang twice before Mom picked up. "Hello?"

I sat back into my bench. Hearing her voice was nice. "Hey, Mom."

"Max! Happy birthday! How has your day been?"

I pondered that. Yeah, how had my day been? Waffles, no Fang and no Angel, deserted park, 2 texts… "All good," I said simply. "Waffles made my day."

Mom chuckled. "I'm glad to know. How's Angel? Fang?"

"They're fine. We've had… well, we've had an interesting week so far. Angel's having fun."

"Hmm," Mom said. "And Fang?"

I bit my lip. "Saying ten words a day. The usual." Mom didn't say anything. "It's been… interesting. We haven't killed each other. And we seem to amuse Angel."

Mom took a moment to speak, but then she laughed a little. "Okay, sweetheart. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Yup."

"Good. Happy birthday, Max. Love you."

"Love you, too."

P-R-O-J-E-C-T : F-A-M-I-L-Y

I ended up walking back to the apartment. For a few moments I considered calling Fang, but then ditched the idea. If he and Angel weren't at the apartment when I got back, I'd call.

Happy with that resolution, I started my way back. I thought about my mom while I walked. And about Ella and J.J. And, believe it or not, Jeb.

They were all part of my life. My… reality. Being pulled away from that reality for a full week really gave me some perspective on my life. Things felt kind of different now, though I wasn't sure how.

Angel had become my life in that sense, and so had Fang. Not in the sense that I depended on them or that they were all I had and cared about, but rather in the sense that they were what I saw every day, what I'd come to expect.

As of tomorrow, that would change again. But my question was: would things revert to the way they were eight, ten days ago? I didn't think so.

And so I wondered about that thing every human being thinks about at some (or many) point of his or her life: what happens next?

With these thoughts in mind, I reached the apartment door. When I opened it, I frowned. I didn't pull the curtains this morning, did I?

I found it amazing that just by pulling the curtains, the apartment became so dark that I couldn't see any further than the dining room.

Everything was still and silent. I flicked the light on, and then promptly stumbled back out the door, almost falling on my butt.

Why, you ask? I think the sound waves pushed me backwards.

"SURPRISE!"

Wait, that's not all of it. "FANG!" that was definitely Angel. "You were supposed to yell surprise!"

It took me a minute to realize that it wasn't two voices that greeted me, but rather… eight? Ten?

I blinked up at the faces staring down at me. The light had come a bit harsh to my eyes. "Umm… I'm surprised."

A general wave of laughter spread around. Ella walked out of the bunch and hugged me. "Happy birthday, sis."

"Thanks," I said, hugging her back. "How did this… err… thing, happen?"

Ella pulled back and winked at me. "You'd be surprised."

"I kind of already am," I said. I knew that look of hers. She wasn't going to say a word.

Ella raised an eyebrow. She turned to the crowd of nine people (I took the moment to count). "The great Maximum Martinez is actually surprised! I thought it'd take more than this, guys. Talk about a waste of effort."

While more laughter ensued, Angel ran out from the crowd as well. She hugged my legs. "Feliz cumpleaños, Max," she said with a wink.

I grinned down at her, a brief question mark popping into my head. "Gracias."

That was when I felt it. It came quick and sharp, expanding slowly through me as my mind registered it. That smell. My eyes went wide and I felt my mouth begin to water. "Cookies!"

P-R-O-J-E-C-T : F-A-M-I-L-Y

After Ella handed me a Tupperware with my name on it, filled with Mom's homemade cookies, we split up and sat down. I mean split up in the sense that Angel went off to her room with Hayley (who, Fang told me, got permission to come after Fang went through a phone call with Lissa—I didn't ask for the details) and Emily, Sam and Rebecca's seven-year-old kid.

When I thought of that last bit, it sounded weird. Beyond weird.

The rest of us consisted of Ella, J.J., Iggy, Sam, Rebecca, Fang, and I. We sat down at the living room and talked for a while. Sam and Rebecca compared project experiences with Fang and I (that topic died down quickly, as you can imagine). Then Iggy, Ella, and J.J. talked about how weird their weeks had been without yours truly (and Fang). And Ella and Rebecca bonded and they started a whole other conversation I was by no means part of. Sam and J.J., my two best buddies, caught up on whatever it is they talked about when I'm not there.

As for me? Well, I challenged Iggy to a Mario Bros. Wii match. Fang tagged along.

I won the Wii match (Fang didn't win, no matter what he may tell you—Iggy dropped out halfway through, the sissy), FYI.

After I won the Wii match, Chinese food miraculously appeared at my front door. Angel, Hayley, and Emily left to eat in Angel's room, but I did notice that they took one of the four fortune cookies.

Hmph. Fine.

While I happily ate my Chinese food, the conversation I'd been dreading the whole time came up. I'd been having a rather pleasant conversation with Sam on how we'd join the Home Eco. group and do a collective prank on Henderson when…

"So, Max." J.J. was the little sneak that brought it up. I turned to look at her, and the conversations around us hushed. "How have you and Fang not killed each other all week?"

I almost felt the words echoing off the walls. It was a fairly simple question, really, it shouldn't have bothered me. I tried to shrug. "Miracles happen."

"Hmm," J.J. said. She continued eating as she "thought", ignoring the five pairs of eyes trained on her. "If you say so."

The entire table breathed.

For a moment I was mad—why did that have such an effect on everyone? On me? I turned to look at Fang. He was staring down at his food, fork in hand. He looked up briefly and his gaze did meet mine, but then he looked back down.

Our entire exchange lasted less than two seconds, but I had a feeling that everyone had noticed. And I wanted to kill J.J.

P-R-O-J-E-C-T : F-A-M-I-L-Y

My birthday 'cake' consisted of a giant chocolate chip cookie with a candle stuck in the middle. Best cake ever.

After I waited in agony for everyone to finish singing 'Happy Birthday' (I wanted my cookie) and everyone got a piece of my mega-cookie, we all sat down at the living room to get my presents. And… I didn't see any presents.

"You have to look for them," Ella explained.

I was so close, so close to taking another bite out of my cookie, and Ella had to interrupt me. "Huh?"

"Think of it as a scavenger hunt," she said. "Each of us hid your gift someplace in the apartment. Each wrote you a clue"—she handed me a bunch of index cards—"based on something that connects you to us. You'll see."

I took that bite out of my cookie, raising my eyebrows. I flipped through the index cards, taking in the variety of messy scrawls and, of course, Ella's ever perfect cursive.

"You must find this funny somehow," I told Ella. "Hilarious."

She just smiled.

Rolling my eyes, I finished the last of my cookie. Then I plucked out a card from the very center of the bunch—Ella's.

"Read it aloud," Sam said.

I nodded. "Ella," I said. I showed the side of the card with Ella's neat cursive name on it, waving it around for everyone to see.

Ella rolled her eyes. "Go on, then."

I cleared my throat and sat up straight. Ella laughed at me, but I continued on and read the card with an accent and everything, trying to sound official… ish. "I forced you to pack it, but I don't know why I even bothered. Did you even use it?" I laughed. "No, sister dearest, I didn't use it."

Ella rolled her eyes. "Go get it, then."

I retrieved the makeup kit from its lone spot at the bottom of my suitcase, and walked back into the living room.

"What's that?" Sam asked while I unzipped the bag.

"Makeup kit," I said. He, along with every other person in the room laughed. "Ha, ha," I said. "Very funny."

Inside the makeup kit, however, I found no makeup. Two boxes met my eyes instead. I pulled the smaller one out, which had a note in my mother's handwriting attached.

"I took the makeup with me in the morning," Ella said. "The small one is from Mom and Dad."

I opened the note: Happy birthday, sweetheart. Love, Mom and Jeb.

At least she signed it Jeb and not Dad… Inside the box were some tiny, prickly things I classified as earrings. They were cute, I figured. A little red thing (a ruby, probably) surrounded by what looked to be teeny tiny diamonds.

"Wow," I said, staring at them. "I might actually use them."

Ella snorted. "Mom will be pleased, then. Open the other box."

I stored the earrings back into their box, and I pulled out the other one. This one was thin, but bigger. I pulled a CD case out, inside of which was a CD with the funniest cartoon mariachis staring up at me. "Nice cover," I said. "What is this?"

"That's my present, actually," Ella said. She just laughed at me—she'd done that quite a lot that day. "I took all your favorites and burned them into the CD. Nudge's dad helped me print the picture onto it."

I grinned. "Thank-you, sister dearest. Your makeup scheme has been redeemed."

Ella laughed, yet again. "Thank-you, sister dearest. C'mon, next card."

I pulled another card out at random . "Sam," I read. "Note to self: Never work on Science projects with Max." I looked up at Sam, who was holding in laughter. "Wha—Oh…" I glared at him. "That was your fault!"

I pulled a (cold) box wrapped in purple paper out of the fridge. "Once upon a time," I told the curious crowd staring at the box, "Sam and I were working on a science project at my house. My brain was fried after two hours of staring at a textbook, so I suggested ice cream. After I served it, Sam said ice cream just wasn't ice cream without whipped cream. So he pulled some out of the fridge, but it wouldn't budge." I started to unwrap the box. "Sam fiddled with the cap for a while, but nothing came out. In the end, the bottle blew up and Sam ended up covered. His textbook too—he had to buy another one later." I laughed. "Ah, good times."

While everyone laughed and pointed at Sam, who was glaring at me, I opened the box. Inside was a leather jacket and, surprise, a bottle of whipped cream. "Aw, thanks Sam. I'm pretty sure you rigged the bottle, though, so I'm just going to store that one away for now."

Sam laughed. "Rebecca picked the jacket, so technically it's from both of us."

I decided I liked Rebecca's taste. "Thanks guys," I said, setting the jacket and the bottle on the table. "Next up"—I pulled another card out of the bunch—"Iggy." He cracked a smile. "Didn't really know what to write here so… it's in the bathroom."

"That's not fair!" Ella said. "Iggy!"

He just laughed and ducked when Ella swatted a hand at him.

I figured he meant Fang's bathroom, because I doubted he'd actually stepped into my room to look for mine. After I found a cardboard box inside, I sat back down on my spot with the box in my lap. It felt heavy—never a good thing around Iggy.

I cracked one of the box flaps open, then I looked up. "Iggy, nothing in here is life-threatening correct? No snakes or nuclear bombs or exploding paint bombs, yes?"

Iggy laughed. "I wouldn't kill you—not on your birthday."

I rolled my eyes. "How reassuring." I opened the box, and heard a loud click. I looked up and glared at Iggy just in time before a smelly green gas shot out of the box, clouding the space around me. I coughed and covered my nose, dropping the box to the floor. "Iggy!" I called out in the midst of coughs and grunts. "You're a dead man!"

The gas cleared up easily after I opened a couple windows. Iggy looked sheepish, standing at the other end of the room. "You didn't say anything about stink-bombs."

I glared. I smelled my hands, then my hair. "You are so lucky I'm neither green nor smelly."

He snorted. "As if I didn't know the risks."

After glaring some more at Iggy and sitting back down, I picked up the box once more. I chose to overlook the complex contraption inside and the popped remains of a balloon, instead focusing on the CD.

Ooh, he's good, I thought. I'd been hoping to get my hands on the new All Time Low CD, but it'd been sold out everywhere I looked. "Thanks, Ig. You won't die today."

He visibly relaxed. "You're welcome."

I set the box aside and placed the CD on the table, moving on to the next card. Angel's messy scrawl met my eyes. "Angel," I said. I turned the card over to find Fang's chicken scratch, which wasn't much of an improvement from Angel's.

"Le dije a Fang que lo escribiera por mi—con mi letra no cabía."

I nodded at her. "Okay, then." I could believe that her handwriting couldn't fit the clue into such a small card. "Let's see… I had a nightmare a few days ago, so you gave me food. What did you give me?"

I thought back to that night. I'd given her cookies, right? Yeah, that was it. I walked to the pantry where, sure enough, I found a piece of paper on top of the cookie box. I closed the pantry and walked back, studying the page.

It was from her coloring book; a picture of a birthday cake with the words Happy Birthday Max! written on top of it. The other side read, in Spanish:

Happy Birthday Max!

Thank-you for an awesome week! I loved spending time with you and Fang, and I'll miss you lots!

I hope you like the picture, it's from the coloring book you got me at the mall, remember? I had fun that day.

Love, Angel.

PS. I wasn't supposed to tell, but the party was Fang's idea. Can you think about forgiving him? Pretty please?

I finished reading and smiled. Besides the spelling errors, of course, that was the nicest card anyone had ever given me. I hugged Angel. "Thank-you," I whispered. "I love it."

Angel grinned up at me. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yep. I'll hang it up in my room back at home."

"Ooh, promise?"

"Promise."

I set the drawing on the table, letting everyone coo at Angel for a minute before picking up the next card. "J.J.," I read. "You obviously weren't going to replace it on your own, so I got you a new one. It's on the usual spot."

It took me a full minute to figure that one out, but once I did, I was laughing. "You didn't."

"I most certainly did," J.J. said.

To my disgust, she'd wrapped the box in pink paper, but the saying says that what's on the inside is what counts, so I ignored that and opened the box. Inside, I found a brand new alarm clock.

"If you plug your iPod in, it'll wake you up with music instead of that annoying beep," J.J. said.

I grinned. "Thanks."

She nodded. "Figured you'd like it."

I took the last card. "Fang," I read. Everyone fell unnaturally silent. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him staring at me—I felt him staring at me. I cleared my throat and turned it over. It was blank except for one word: Lamp.

I frowned. He'd given me a lamp? I remembered I'd told him I thought the one in the dining room was cool, but… I fingered the card, thinking. I noticed it was crinkled.

Crinkled. Lamp.

"So," I said, "you're supposed to write on it with this… mixture thing?"

Fang laughed. "Yeah, then you need to wait for it to dry, so stop eyeing the lamp. It needs to get all crinkly and stuff before you try to see the message."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. I'll find out what you wrote in a few minutes—so why can't you tell me now?"

Fang continued laughing. "Well, why can't you wait a few minutes?"

I sat back into his couch, crossing my arms. "Fine. Party pooper."

"Ditto," he grinned. "Anyhow, I think you can try now."

I rushed to his living room lamp, ignoring his chuckle in the background. I waited as patient as I'd ever been for the card to heat up, and grinned when the letters started to appear. "It's working!"

He said nothing, so I kept on waiting for the message to appear. The letters appeared at random intervals, each more illegible than the other. "Your handwriting sucks, you know," I told him. I could make out the first few words by then: I think.

"Let's see," I mumbled, peering closely to the card. "I think… Geez, Fang, how hard did you try while writing this down?" I pulled the card away from the lamp and looked at it more closely. "I think I…" I faltered.

I think I love you.

He'd kissed me that day. I remembered it. I'd frozen up after reading the note, and when I finally turned around, he was right there, two inches behind me. He was great at that—stalking up to me in silence. He'd looked at me for a while, and then he'd kissed me, and I'd kissed back.

That day had messed everything up.

I shook my head. I walked over to the dining room lamp, feeling all eyes on me as I held the card up to it. I waited very patiently, just like I'd done that one time. The letters appeared faster than they had last time, and his chicken scratch was considerably more legible, too.

Like this card, you're the only one that can read me. I'm sorry I blew it so many times.

Bubbles.

Bubbles, bubbles… kitchen. I walked to the kitchen sink where, effectively, I noticed a small black box. I opened it there, away from the curious prying eyes.

I took out a carefully folded note, written in normal ink for a change. This made me think of you, I'm not sure why. Happy birthday.

I set the note aside, pulling a necklace out of the box. It was a simple silver chain with a pendant about the size of my thumb. The pendant depicted a pair of black and white wings.

I sat back down, storing both notes back inside the box. "Thank-you," I said simply, pulling the necklace on. Everyone was staring, and the silence dragged on for about ten seconds before I finally broke it: "So, any cookies left?"

P-R-O-J-E-C-T : F-A-M-I-L-Y

The party ended about two hours later, once everyone had left and the apartment had been sort of cleaned. Ella left last, having stayed to help clean up the rest of our mess, and then she'd taken Hayley back to Lissa's apartment for Fang.

Angel, Fang, and I sat on the living room couch, admiring our handiwork. You couldn't even tell that Iggy had spilled coke on the floor.

"Thanks guys," I said. "I had a great time."

"You're welcome, Max," Angel said. Fang nodded. "I have to go look for something, okay?"

I nodded, and off she went, leaving Fang and me alone. I fiddled with my necklace, unsure of what to say. "Thanks, really," I told Fang. "It's pretty."

I mentally asked myself when I'd last said the word pretty.

He seemed to notice where my train of thought was going. "You're welcome."

"Using invisible ink was… creative. You really made me think."

He chuckled. It sounded a lot like the one I'd heard in my head a while ago. "I noticed." Again, silence. Then: "That day was kind of a while ago, wasn't it?"

I nodded. "Nearly three months."

He nodded. "Feels like three years."

Silence set in again, and this time I felt like I had to break it. Except I didn't know what to say. "Long time," I said simply. Stupidly.

Fang made a noise that resembled a sigh. "I messed up that day, right?"

I blinked. I knew that was coming. "No, not that day."

He sat up. "Then… when?"

I bit my lip. He said he didn't know… okay, then. Indulge him. "The week after."

"Exactly?" he asked. I nodded. "The Friday after… you still weren't talking to me. I tried to talk to you on Monday and on Thursday, not Friday."

"I know. You didn't say anything at all on Friday."

I felt his temper rising a little. "So that's what I did? I didn't try again on Friday? Because I tried the whole weekend after that, if you remember."

"No," I said. "It's not that."

"Then, what?" He breathed, leveling his tone. "Help me out here. Please."

I swallowed. Okay. "I saw you on Friday, right before Chemistry. I wanted to talk to you."

He frowned. "You did? I didn't see you. Ella told me you felt sick when I looked for you that afternoon. In fact… you weren't in Chemistry that day."

"I know that," I said. "I left before Chemistry started. Right after I saw you, actually."

He nodded. "Chemistry… what time… oh."

I sighed. "Oh, indeed."

"Oh… no. No,no, no!. Ella told me you were sick! I didn't see you all day, I thought…" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "All this time, I never even thought you'd seen that because I thought you hadn't stepped into school the whole time!"

I rolled my eyes. "Does it even matter? You still did it, and you still would've done it."

"But I would've known!" He turned to look at me. "All this time, I've retraced my steps from the week before, and that week, and the week after! And all this time I discarded that one slip, that one moment before Chemistry, because I thought it impossible that you would've seen! And I even considered that someone had told you, which is why I tried to explain that weekend, but you only screamed that you'd seen me with your own eyes!"

"Again, that still doesn't matter because you still did it!"

He exhaled loudly. "I did. And I regretted it the moment she let me go, and I even pushed her to one side and screamed at her in front of the entire student body, or what was left of it out in the hall at that hour. But I bet no one told you that part, right? Because you were sick that day and you supposedly didn't see a thing!"

I kept silent. No one had said anything about that.

"But I bet Ella knew, didn't she? You told her everything. And Iggy probably knew, too. And none of them ever told me that you'd seen!"

"But that still doesn't matter, Fang!" I groaned. "Fang, you kissed Lissa out of your own volition, and even if you didn't, you didn't push her off for the three minutes I stood there, watching. I waited for you to push her off and I waited for you to yell at her, and you know what? The bell rang and you were still there. And I looked back even after running all the way down the hall, and you were still there."

"I was," he said. "And I am sorry about that, Max. But guess what? I wasn't thinking straight, and I hadn't been thinking straight for the whole week. You know why, Max? Because you ran out on me. A week prior, I told you I might love you, and I kissed you. And you kissed me back, and for a moment I thought you felt something too. But no, you ran out on me, and then refused to talk to me for that week, and the week after, and for the past two months and a half!"

"And yet you still kissed Lissa," I spat at him. "And you did it again two days ago, so what do you have to say about that?"

"But I kissed you first, didn't I? And I didn't push you away, did I? I didn't scream at you and I didn't knock you to the ground. Hell, Max, what do you want me to say? That week I was angry at you, I was angry at myself. I exposed myself to you and what did I get in turn? You left me in ridicule, and you didn't even say sorry. If you'd said that you didn't feel that way in the first place I would've understood, but you decided to leave me to figure it out on my own.

"And then that Friday when I kissed Lissa, I didn't do it out of my own volition. She kissed me and I did try to push her off, but she just held onto me, so I stopped struggling. You know why I stopped struggling, Max? Partially because I wanted a girl to kiss me without running out on me afterwards. But, partially, I wanted you to walk by, because I knew you had Chemistry at that hour, and I wanted you to tear her away from me and scream. I wanted you to show that you cared, even just a little. But you didn't.

"And when Ella said that you'd been sick, I felt relieved. On one side, because I was glad you hadn't seen the stupidest thing I'd done in my life. On another, because that meant that you hadn't just walked by and shrugged it off. Or that you'd just thought 'Oh, good for him!' and walked into class. But even then, you still refused to talk to me, Max, and damn it all, I was mad at you."

He was breathing heavily by the time he finished. "I'm sorry," he said. "I messed up and I'm sorry. But, for what it's worth, tell me you at least understand it now. Tell me that you understand I had no ill intentions." He swallowed. "Please."

I felt myself nod. "Yeah," I said. I'd never heard my voice sound that way. "Okay."

We sat there in silence for several minutes. Too many thoughts raced through my mind, and yet, now that I think about it, I can't remember a single one. He stood up right then. "Thank-you," he said. He took maybe three steps before he stopped, but then he started walking again.

He kept on walking, and each step reverberated through my ears. I heard each one echo in my mind. Every single one.

I stood up right then. I felt a lot like the previous night, acting in a bit of a trance. This time, however, I broke it before I did anything. I just stood there for a minute. Again, I'm not sure what went through my mind right then.

Then, however, I started walking too. And my steps echoed just as loudly as his came to a stop. I didn't think it through. Even when I was standing an inch away from him, staring up at his eyes, I still wasn't sure what I was trying to do.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I felt a weight, a nearly three-month-old weight, lift from my shoulders. I touched the fabric of his sleeve, trailing my fingers up to his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

I closed my eyes and pursed my lips. "I was stupid, and I wasn't thinking straight. And I was… jealous. And I was scared."

He fiddled with a strand of my hair, but let me continue talking. "Jeb left my mom. And me, and Ella. You know the story. I just… I wanted to make sure you didn't leave me. So I… I left you first." I rested my fingers flat on his shoulder. "I never told anyone that. I'm sorry."

He let go of my hair. I stood there, feeling weak and vulnerable and stupid. I felt as if he was going to burst out laughing at any moment. Or call me a freak. A stupid, insecure freak.

Or that he'd flat-out reject me.

He didn't, though. Instead, he placed two fingers on my chin, then used another two to lightly pull my eyelids open. He stared at me, straight into my eyes, and he kept coming closer and closer. By the time I could feel his breath on my lips, he stopped. He looked at me in the eyes, then down to my lips, and then back at my eyes.

And then I got tired of his teasing and I closed the gap.

His reaction was instant, his arms tightening their grip on my waist. He kissed me very slowly, sort of like how he'd done it last time. One of his hands found its way to my cheek and stayed there; his thumb tracing trails over it, across my forehead and my eyes.

I fingered his hair. It was softer than I remembered it, and it felt silkier than my own. He had some hidden curls at the nape of his neck, which I'd never noticed.

He started to pull back from me, slowly. I buried my nose in the crook of his neck. Briefly, I remembered what I'd been thinking about much earlier, how my perspective on my life—my reality—had changed. As I pondered that, the weight of everything that had just happened settled onto me, and I was happy about it.

I'd changed my reality in that brief moment, just as I'd changed it throughout the week. And I'd done it out of my own choice.

As I smiled to myself at the realization, I heard a faint click behind me. I looked up at Fang, whose eyes were twinkling in a way I'd forgotten they could manage. He gestured for me to turn around.

I stood up straight and did as he said. My gaze met Angel, who was standing at the end of the hall, clutching a camera in her hands. She smiled sheepishly at me, and waved the camera. "Found it!"

P-R-O-J-E-C-T : F-A-M-I-L-Y

Fang and I took Angel back to the orphanage an hour after Angel took the picture. In that moment, I'd completely forgotten about it. In fact, I'd forgotten about it all day until ten, when Mrs. Keith had called, asking if we would please take Angel back before eleven, because they wanted to start closing up and calling lights out.

We all let a few tears out, even Fang. We both promised Angel to visit her at least every other day. She looked so sad.

I think both Fang and I knew it, I think even Angel knew it. No matter for how long we visited Angel, there would come a time when our visits would just be… rare. Sometimes sorts of things. Or Angel would get adopted.

In my mind, I firmly promised myself to never forget Angel. To never forget my week.

I'd once more changed my reality, and I was about to start feeling just how real change could be.


Edited: 8.31.2012


AN: I am so proud of myself for this edit. Perhaps a little overdone at the ending, but still. The previous one made me want to curl up and die. And the last scene gave the story a certain feel I liked. Bittersweet, not quite so fluffy and simple.