I lay on my bed thinking of the situation. This is pretty much everything that was going through my mind:
1. Fang see's tape, I'm dead.
2. Can't let Fang see tape.
3. How can this be accomplished?
Simple? Yeah, I guess so. Then again, I try not to use big words when having a conversation with myself, I get aggitated.
All in all, I was in a sea of 'Oh Crap!' and my leaky life raft was a black casette tape that happened to be in Mr. Tall, Dark, and Creepy's hands. My, what a perdiciment.
If Fang see's that-... If Fang see's that tape...
I jumped off my bed. There's only one person stupid enough to lock themselves out of their room in a huff of anger, and that's me! All I have to do is sneak my way into Fang's room, grab the tape and POW! No more issue!
Like I said, simple.
I stepped out into the hall and opened Fang's door. The room was immaculate. Go figure.
I scanned the room, briefly, and found that he hadn't just left it out in the open. I Started to look in the obvious places as quietly as I could.
"If you're looking for whatever he took from you, it's in his desk drawer. I heard him shove it their right before that racket started."
Iggy. I turned around and he was leaning against the door frame, his eyes not exactly in the direction his face was pointed. Sometimes, living with this guy was creepy. It was something I was used to but occasionally, when I forgot he was blind, it gave me the heebeejeebies.
"And why exactly are you helping me?" I asked. With Ig, there is always a catch.
He only smirked and walked away. "You aren't the only one I'm mad at, Max." He said nonchalantly over his shoulder.
"Oookay." I said and shook my head.
'My flock is wierd, my flock is wierd...' I was thinking as I opened the desk drawer. Bingo! Tape cassette in hand I started to close the drawer again.
That's when I noticed a black notebook. Not just any notebook, The Notebook. Capitals and all. This is the only physical proof that Fang is not in fact some sort of android. Okay, a bit over dramatic, but come on! It's like finding your little sister's diary... Not that I'd ever do anything like that... More then once... At least not getting caught...
Hmmm... My conscience was dukeing it out on my shoulders. Unfortunatly, they both have wings. Now, notebook in custody, I decided I'd better go before Ol' Snaggle Tooth came home.
Then just as unstealthily as I came in, I left.
"Find it?" Iggy asked.
I looked to where he was sitting in the hall running his fingers over the pages of a braile book. "Yeah. Thanks."
He knodded and continued sliding his fingertips across the page.
Stepping into my room I closed and locked the door, giving it knob a sound giggle for good measure. I lay down on my bed and looked at the notebook in my hand. Don't for a second think that I was debating weithor to read it or not. Nope, I was just letting the anticipation build.
"Entry 2134
May
11th, Max's Birthday. It should have been happy. I wanted to be happy
for her but... I can't believe they both lied to me! I knew Iggy was
going away. But nobody told me that they were leaving together. I'm
more then a little upset right now, I even made a specticule of my
self.
If I'm going to fix this, I'll have to do it after she gets back from her flight. Give her some time to calm down."
Ohhh... My birthday! If there was ever any answers for 'Incident #6' This would be the place to find it. I turned the page.
"Entry 2135
Technically May 12th. I'm an idiot. I
couldn't think of how to express how much I didn't was her to go, so
I kissed her. Again.
I am so incredably stupid! I'm not some
awkward 14 year old kid anymore! And why do I only kiss her when
she's leaving,anyway? Is it the only time I need to be like that.
Does it ever make a difference? Not usually. Completely unacceptable.
Yet..."
It was so like Fang to write three sentence entries and leave them incomplete. I continued reading. Here's where things get weird.
"Entry 2136
Max is staying. Today
her car got destroyed. I don't know who did it but when I find out...
It won't be pretty. The look on Max's face was awful. I don't think
I've seen her this upset since Op Angel. That upsets me.
I could
see how upset she was so I loaned her my car. I know how much of a
relief it is to be able to just get away like everybody else does. I
thought it would help.
Then, about an hour and a half later some
jerk shows up asking for Max. I could tell just by looking at him
that he was a sleezball. I asked what he wanted with her and he said
to give her back her bag. I was confused. Max goes nowhere without
that bag.
To be perfectly honest, I was worried that something
had happened to her. Imagine my shock, when I find out she's been
boxing.
Doesn't she realize she could get hurt? How could she not
tell anybody? How long has she been doing this! How long has she been
putting herself at risk without telling me.
I have that same,
strange sense of forboding that I had the time she decided to set up
an archeological dig in her arm with a seashell. I don't like this
feeling. I don't know what it is, but I don't like it..."
Well, that wasn't good. It was very, very, bad in fact. Bad and creepy. A sudden suspicion crept throught me and I started flipping throught the pages. Yep... Just as I thought.
"Entry
1846
Max is still upset because I won't go see that stupid movie
with her. What is her deal? I just don't want to be around that many
people, in the dark to watch something that's gonna be on DVD in a
month.
Does she HAVE to make me feel guilty about everything I
say or do, or don't do? Fine! I watch the stupid movie with all of
it's 100,000 mouth breathing people, sticky floors and annoying
commercials.
Oh great, The Desolate one is knocking on my door as
we speak."
"Entry 1847
You know, the movie
wasn't all that bad. I guess it's one of those things that's not
about what you're doing. It's who you're doing it with. Wait, that
came out wrong. Way wrong.
Shuting up now before I hurt myself
trying to pry my foot out my mouth with my ball point."
"Entry 1850
Yet another fight with Max. That
obsitinate, pig-headed... Girl! I wan't to rip my hair out!
You
know, sometimes I can't believe the stuff that comes out of her
mouth.
"How would you know, Fang. You're only experience
with girls was the red-headed wonder bra."
That was three
and a half years ago. Why can't she just let it go! I was never
interested in... Crap, forgot her name. But anyway, I wasn't
interested in her. I didn't even LIKE her.
Correct me if I'm
wrong, but wasn't she the one playing suckface with mister
"I'm-so-perfect-I-Make-You-Wanna-Puke"??
And another
thing. Why is it whenever I even THINK about that... that... boy with
Max I want to throw up anyway?"
Crap. This was getting really creepy. Every single entry in there was about me. Me. Why me? I'd only seen anybody elses name maybe twice the entire time.
Then I heard the familiar crunching of Fangs tires on the gravel. He was home. Double crap. I dive underneath my bed and pull up a loose board very carefully. I look at the small pink book already there. Ella. Sometimes I wish I hadn't taken her diary so she'd still be writing in one. Then maybe I could steal it and find out what's going on with her.
After the carnage of the derailment of my train of thought had cleared up, I shoved both the tape and the notebook into my hiding spot and replace the plank.
Weasling out from under my bed I grabbed a clean pair of pajamas and my robe and ran into my bathroom and started the shower. I'm just delaying the inevitable again, I think. He's gonna confront me sometime and I can't always be in the shower.
The familiar two-tap knock on my door alerts me of his presence. I am already mid shampoo and don't intend to stop, just because he knocked.
After I finished my shower, dried off and got changed I prepared myself for the can of worms I had opened. I opened my bedroom door and stepped into the hall.
Something smooshed beneath my foot. It was really gross felling. As soon as I looked down, I wish I hadn't.
I was standing in a very large puddle of fresh, wet, blood.
