Hey, readers! Quick question… do any of you use the program that fanfiction promotes on the main page, LibreOffice? I just use MicrosoftWord, but I'm wondering about any benefits/advantages/disadvantages/general info about it. In the meantime, major thanks for checking in again!

Hey, Hellewise14. I'm lovin' vacation, too. I've been up to eleven or twelve these past few nights reading, writing, basically fanfictioning all around. Must. Break. Habit. Before. School. Starts. Again. Haha, yeah, Fang isn't exactly the quickest in getting to know people. As for "the woman," my idea was that Fang has trouble addressing Brook as mom because she doesn't feel like one/he doesn't even know what one does feel like and he doesn't know if he should call her Brook, since technically, he is her kid… So it's sort of his inner dilemma. Sorry if that was unclear. Thank you again for reading and reviewing! Let's hear it for being able to stay up to 11 just to read fanfiction.

Loved your review, as per usual, Dancing On My Toes. I really appreciate the detail you put into reviewing and everything you say. I'm glad you appreciated Fang and Brook getting closer, which is definitely a subplot of the story. I'm also a major music lover, so as you noticed, that plays a major role. Thanks for pointing out your thoughts on the Ig/Fang relationship, and the way you worded their personalities as: "but I think Fang gets mis-interpreted sometimes. He doesn't want to be closed off - he just is, like Iggy is naturally funny and pale. It's a part of who he is - even if it developed as a defense mechanism from the school or whatever." was right on. Surprisingly, I do agree with you on some levels (though the story may not have reflected that) but I tried to put a little more of that "he's just being him" thing into this one. Plus I really wanted to write about what the two argued about, even if it was a little OOC, which is an author flaw of mine, I'll admit. Still, I'm glad you liked the chapter, and no, though I am a horse person, I certainly have friends who are not but have picked up the lingo. Thanks so much!

IwriteUread, as usual, you are the subject of my adoration and thanks. I love seeing a familiar face among reviewers, and I'm really glad you like it and that you thought I wrote the last chapter correctly. Phew!

Thanks, JealousMindsThinkAlike! I love seeing your reviews each chapter and I love your profile picture/avatar, with the eraser. That's basically my family's reaction whenever I mention them.

Hmm… I'm working on the baton twirling, Amber :) I'm so glad you liked the chapter, and that you review each time! I love it. And that you were listening to piano music while reading. I admit-and this has nearly been the end of me in the past-that I have not yet seen Forrest Gump, though I swear I've been meaning to! But we do own the soundtrack, so I'll get on it. I really do like Brook's character, I've worked on her a lot, so I'm glad you're getting a little fonder. As for Fang knowing Ari was Max's brother, this takes place like, right after STWAOES, and my take was that they didn't talk much about the separation, so I've been thinking that aside the incident in TAE when Jeb was all, "you killed your own brother!" the boys don't know the details about what the girls did and vice versa. Thank you so, so much! Your reviews make me smile.

And thank you to all readers, as well.

XXXXX

Day 99

Still raining? I typed and groaned aloud when he beamed back a one-word reply of yes. We can and will fly in the rain, but given that it's practically suicide in thunderstorms and the amount of time it takes our wings to dry, let's just say it's not a comfortable experience. According to His Darkness, it had been cloudy if not raining for the past ten days.

Well, you're in luck! I grinned, relieved that Ella had shown me how to take pictures on her digital camera and load them onto the computer before she had skedaddled off to her lacrosse practice. Check your wall!

He didn't reply for a moment and I had to content myself with imagining his expression when he enlarged the photo. It was easy, easy to see his look of suppressed happiness, the mere gleam in his eye and twitch at the corner of his mouth. His brow would furrow ever so slightly, thinking about whatever the photo reminded him of, and then he'd normally turn to me and smile that lopsided smile of his.

For now, I had to trade this smile in for a worded reply on a screen.

He loved the stars. We had never seen them while imprisoned at the School and had only heard rumors of moons affecting tides, whatever those were. It wasn't until our first night of freedom when he had come bolting into my room to yank me awake and pull me to the big window. We sat awake with our faces pressed up against the glass until Jeb collected us for breakfast the next morning. Once we had learned about the outside and what it meant, we had stayed up late into the night, picking out our own constellations and making up stories about them. It had taken forever to get my pictures of the Arizona night sky just right, but maybe now he had something to remind him of forever ago when we were still together and safe. Back when we lived as a family in a house with enough to eat, our own beds, and only the fear of our pasts and nightmares, not like the present when every twig snapping made me jump, thinking Eraser!

The computer surprised me out of my reverie with a little ping, notifying me of a reply while also scaring the frijoles out of me.

Thanks.

Have you been stuck inside? I replied. If the weather's been bad for so long?

No. We don't mind the rain too much, it's just a pain to dry the feathers without the sun, so sometimes we go on walks or something just to stretch our legs but not make her crazy by flinging water everywhere when we come inside.

Ooh. Is she a strict cleaner?

Actually, not really. She doesn't care if we go outside and get wet as long as we don't track mud on the carpet. Plus she comes in so dirty after barn chores that she lined up a semi-permanent walkway of towels toward the bathroom, so we're set.

How many horses does she have?

Six.

…description, por favore? Names?

Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, and Cupid.

I rolled my eyes. That comedian. Haha. Seriously.

There's Crazy Horse-her secret favorite and best friend-named after a Native Am. Chief. Chopin, who has some piano composer to thank for his name, Georgia O'Keefe, named after a painter. Then there's Queen Elizabeth the First-I think that speaks for itself, name wise-and Hatshepsut, another queen. Last but not least there's Epona, goddess of horses. The kids shorten some of the names to Craze, Georgie or Georgia OK, and usually just call QEI Elizabeth. However, she usually uses full names.

So she didn't sound like a secret ax murderer. I was making a mental list. Do you and Ig like them?

Yeah, I guess. We haven't spent a lot of time with them since they're really antsy in the rain.

I'll bet. What happens in thunderstorms?

Hell. Breaks. Loose.

Ouch, yeah. And I thought Total was bad. Flighty little suckers, aren't they?

Not so little, but otherwise, yes. I went down to ask her something the other night during a storm and didn't realize that Crazy Horse was sick. I ended up helping her until about three, so I have ample proof of this statement.

3AM? Tell me more.

I'm rolling my eyes. Anyway. Craze was colicking-like the horse version of the stomach bug but about then times worse-and once she was okay we fed all six and she played the piano to calm them down.

Did this qualify her as potential ax murderer potential? I usually associated craziness with ax murderers, though she hadn't seemed off her rocker when mom talked to her on the phone. However… she plays the piano? For horses? In the middle of the night?

My thoughts exactly, but she's like freaking Mozart and they calm right down. I think it's therapeutic for her, too. I don't think she talks to her parents anymore, though I don't know. I don't really know anything about her past. There was a pause in which I seriously considered the weight behind this statement and whether or not I could trust Brook Hufftalen, but then Fang sent another message. Sorry, rephrase: I don't think she's hiding anything, I just don't think she talks about it. Like, think about it. She's out in the middle of Montana with only six horses and a dog for company. How did she get here? She has no college paraphernalia or postcards from anyone stuck to the walls like your mom and Jeb did. I just feel like… she's one of those people who had a point in their lives when they can say "my life sucks" with real meaning.

Got it. I typed. And you stayed down with her until three?

She stayed later.

Why did you go down originally?

There was a bit too long of a pause before he replied. See if she needed help. I knew that if he wasn't lying, he was stretching the truth. He knew it. I knew it. And if I knew him, he knew he hadn't fooled me. How's that for a whole lot of knowing? If we had been talking about anybody but his mother, I might have choked it out of him, but even if this whole conversation wasn't taking place on a screen, I knew where his borders were and which ones he would cross. Fang was naturally reserved. He didn't like worrying people with his own troubles and especially didn't like anyone knowing he was feeling anything else besides what he showed them. Maybe it was a bit of scarring from the School, when they targeted not only you but also what you loved, maybe it was just natural reservation, and maybe it was a little of both. He didn't like seeming weak or looking as if he needed help. Iggy and I had nearly killed him over this a million times because all we want is just to be let in, to help him if he needed it, but Fang was adamantly opposed to any such things. Meaning it was time to change the subject.

Do you ever go down to the barn?

Sometimes.

Who's your favorite?

I didn't know I was signing on to an interrogation session.

If you were here, I'd hit you. C'mon! Tell me. I don't see you guys anymore. It's weird. I want to know what it's like up there!

Excuses. I could just imagine his rolling eyes. Crazy Horse is my favorite. Chopin's psycho, he just runs around his pasture all day, nonstop. I'm not even kidding. Can horses be ADHD? Then Elizabeth is so prim, like you can tell she doesn't like getting dirty, though it's pretty funny when she decides that one of the other horses is ticking her off, because she'll push 'em down into the mud anyway. Apparently she's also the leader on the trails. I don't know much about the others since if we go down; I usually hang with Crazy, though Epona is Iggy's favorite. She's quiet and calm and levelheaded. How's Sirius?

Warming my feet. I laughed. He was sitting on my stomach in the living room while my wings dried from an afternoon swim. The little rat gnawed on Ella's sneaker while heating my chilly toes. The coffee mix isn't working yet, though I'm persevering. He's gained a few pounds, if anything.

Probably because of his new diet.

Yeah right! He loves his new diet.

Dumbledore says that humans have a knack for choosing the things that are worst for them or something like that.

And we all know D's word is law, even if Sirius isn't a human.

True that.

How's Ig?

Fine.

No, really. I knew it. You guys fighting?

No.

Then what's up? And don't lie.

We argued. Past tense. We're fine now.

I frowned. About what?

He likes her. Doesn't think I take risks, says I "should be grateful she's so cool."

Ah. What'd you say?

Well, I get it. She is nice. Quiet. Kind. But I told him it didn't change anything-we don't belong here. He knows that.

Then what?

…he said I don't allow myself to care about people. Which isn't true, by the way, in case you're calling Dr. Phil right now for your little emo sidekick who needs some antidepressants. But he should know what I'm talking about, you know? We can't make friends, whether or not we want to. He says that's not the point, that I should still appreciate her.

Yeah. I get it. Those jerkwads kind of killed him when they tried to sell him.

Bastards.

You guys okay though?

Wasn't a big argument, we're fine. I just think he's a little too willing to care about people who just end up hurt because of us. I'm sending you a CD of him on the piano, by the way. It's ridiculous, and by that I mean flawless.

I smiled, allowing myself to appreciate this for a moment before addressing him. Hey, Fang?

Hey, Max?

Why does Iggy think Brook's nice? Aside from the whole not turning traitor thing, because the longer I pretend to be normal the more I realize that there are other redeemable qualities to notice.

No, really?

Seriously. Give me three.

Ig says anyone who has that many animal friends has "clearly done something right. Unless the friends include Total or are stuffed." He loves her music and she's really laid back.

But what do you think?

He waited, either thinking or avoiding the question, but eventually he came up with what I had already guessed. I don't know.

We'll take it slow then. Do you think she has redeemable qualities?

I could picture his expression perfectly and the smart-ass look he'd send my way if I had ever actually stated this to him.

Sure. But… it was wordless. But I still don't know how I ended up with the whitecoats or any of her history. Who my father was. He did not want to push these thoughts on me, that natural reservation kicking in, but I recognized them all the same. We were always second-guessing any fortune that came into our lives, parents included. And parents, as a rule, came with a lot of strings.

Yeah. I typed. So you know how I finished Harry Potter?

You kind of rubbed it in everyone's faces.

Shut up. Anyway, once you have finished, I have a new series for you! Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick… Riordan? I can't remember his last name. They're amazing and make me laugh.

Iggy had me read An Abundance of Katherines to him by John Green. She picked up some books for us from the library in town so he's getting in touch with his right brain out here.

Did I tell you that Ella wants me to join her bookclub?

Nope. I take it you have no desire to?

Correct.

Probably because you would take the closest one out if she so much as reached for her knitting needles too quickly.

Very amusing, Mr. Whit.

That's what they call me.

"Max?"

I looked up to see Ella in the doorway, though I was already halfway through typing a snarky reply. She had a backpack fit to bursting on her shoulders and hadn't even taken a shower yet. Reason #3,283 why I had no desire to go to school: homework ruins lives. "Sorry to interrupt, but I really need to type up my lab report." Groaning in frustration, she dumped her school stuff on the floor and flopped down into her messily made bed. "Do you know anything about dissolved oxygen?"

"A little." I sighed. Thank you, psycho scientists who raised me. I couldn't divide to save my life, but science? That I could do. Though I loved to help Ella in any way I could, meager payment for all she and mom had done for me, I internally detested becoming Ella's go-to science guru. As if the scarring memories weren't enough, I still had so much to tell him! There was the joke I had heard two girls laughing over at the town diner and the new candy shop in town (I was sending the boys some white chocolate and fudge), and the successful batch of cookies I had made. Stuff he would know had we been together. Plus, I was really curious about the woman whom he would not admit to having any sort of relationship with. He wasn't quite ready for my barrage of questions, though, so I kept reminding myself to take it slowly and not ask such things when we weren't face to face. Our paranoia-and our feelings-didn't allow speaking about personal matters if there was any way we could be recorded. If I was in Fang's situation, still majorly unsure about a suddenly present mother, I knew I wouldn't want to talk about it online either.

I've gotta go-Ella has to type.

Later.

See you.

Hey-thanks for giving me the stars.

I smiled, unsure of why this probably literal comment made my heart ache to see him. Of course. Anytime.

Well, bye.

Say hi to Ig for me. Try not to kill each other.

Will do.

Stay safe?

You two.

Officially this time?

Bet Ella's frustrated.

Nah. She doesn't want to write a lab report any more than I do.

But she should.

Probably.

So…

Bye.

Bye.

"You know, you could just call him," said Ella as I logged off and handed her the laptop. I reached around and pulled Sirius closer, burying my head in his silky dark fur.

"Nah, I don't like talking to them. This is easier." Because when we hung up, I was alone all over again. Had I ever really called myself independent? Right…

Ella's hot chocolate eyes swam with concern, but I brushed her away and headed off to find some cookie dough before she could say anything sympathetic. I had no desire to exacerbate Flock Withdrawal Syndrome.