A/N: Disclaimer! I do (not) own MR or the songs in this chapter! … And you should check the songs out…

OK, guys, I'm going to take this wonderful opportunity to tell you guys some not-so-wonderful news.

I mean, it's not not-so-wonderful if you hate this story, but I don't think you would have gotten so far if you did.

I won't be able to update or exchange PMs (am I the only one who secretly reads that as PMS? Sorry, I'm nervous for no reason) for a month and one week.

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

I'm going on holiday, since its summer and everything. But I feel very rotten. Very rotten indeed.

I need you guys to promise that you won't forget this story, that'll it'll be in your hearts the whole time. OK, so not really, but seriously: *terminator voice* I'LL BE BACK. AND ZEN I VILL DESTROY DE SNICKUHS BAHRS!

And to lessen the blow, later I'm going to Chapter 1 of the Fang POV story! Doesn't really reveal much of the plot, and I feel less terrible this way.

'Tis called I'm Not Overreacting. Keep your eyes peeled! (Horrible expression)

OK, love to everyone, see you guys in a month and one week! :D (I bet that you want to punch me, Max-style)


Chapter 11

Now: did I go on the date with Dylan or not? I suppose that's all you really care about, huh?

Well, I did what every coward does – I rang him up and said that my grandfather was dying.

We'll question the morality of my excuse later.

Anyway, it made Angel happy, and that's all that matters, right?

Argh. Just shoot me now.

I'm lying in bed, tossing and turning and thinking about (you get a prize if you guess what before reading the next line)

Fang.

You know, being a girl sucks. I mean, apart from all the stuff that comes with 'being a girl', like… well, I'm not going to go into details, but girls are born not knowing that their lives are basically going to suck.

I mean, childbirth? Are you freaking kidding me? That's got to hurt.

We had to watch a video at school.

Scarred. For. Life.

And then, we have to have children because they're so adorable that you can't not have them!

And what do guys have? Well, apart from embarrassing situations if they see a really 'hot' girl, I can't really think of anything truly terrible. I mean, could someone please make them have the children instead?

OK, nasty image.

But still.

The point that I'm trying to make is that I've forgotten the point that I'm trying to make.

Hey, mulling over stuff at two in the morning is hard. Thoughts get away from you and then you forget what you're thinking about.

Hmmm… what was I thinking about?

Fang.

Oh, wait! Darn, that's like, the sixth time that's happened tonight! This is not cool! I finally distract myself from the one and only, and then I forget that that was the point.

Gaahhh.

Angel is snoring. It's kind of bizarrely funny to me.

I wonder what Fang would think of it…

CRANOODLE!

OK. This isn't working. I reach out for my iPod and put in my headphones. Let's think hard about the lyrics, and try not to relate them to Fang.

I press on Shuffle Songs and away we go.

In a very annoying way, The Only Exception by Paramore is the first one that pops up. I don't even listen to Paramore. What the cranoodle?

Oh, no, I associate with Ella and it makes sense. We share a computer, and I've got all the songs on the computer on my iPod (so I'm obsessed with filling it up. Sue me).

Well, the lead singer has cool hair, so let's give this a try.

When I was younger I sawmy daddy cry
and curse at the wind
He broke his own heart
and I watched
as he tried to reassemble it
and my momma swore
that she would
never let herself forget
(Hm, so far, this is strangely accurate)
and that was the day that I promised
I'd never sing of love
if it does not exist
(Oh, snap)

But Darlin...
you are the only exception,
You are the only exception

I start fumbling around for the iPod. Where is it! I need to change song! I don't know about you, but I find this ridiculously unfair. What the cranoodle? Cool hair my ass!

Maybe I know somewhere
deep in my soul
that love never lasts
And we've got to find other ways
to make it alone
keep a straight face

Ah, my iPod. Somehow it'd gotten tangled in the sheets. Which is not cool, but I'll deal with that later.

I skip song. What's next?

The Smiths? Why the heck do we have The Smiths?

And then... Britney Spears? Are you kidding me.

I suppose that I get really annoyed when I find two High School Musical songs. In. A. Row.

This is going pretty badly so far.

I skip song after song (whoever put Barbie Girl onto our computer must die a very painful death) wondering what the world has done with my Vampire Weekend. I mean, why did I think that one thousand, four hundred and sixty three songs was a good idea?

Will someone please answer me?

So, after a rather strange song that does take my mind off of stuff (Halle-fudging-luyah) that I think is about moving and being paranoid about everything (and I'm just going to go with that, because if it has deeper meaning I don't want to know) called Be Calm by 'Fun.' an alright-ish song comes onto my iPod. I think it's about funerals, but hey, whatevs.

When it ends, I think: that was OK. I wonder who it was by, so that I can store it for later.

And just guess.

GUESS, I DARE YOU!

It's Macy's Day Parade by…

Green Day.

I take my pillow and put it over my head and scream.

xxx

"Hey," Iggy says, pushing past me into my house.

"Yo, what's up?" Fang asks, following suit, completely at ease.

Oh, I'm fine, seeing as you stopped to hear my answer and stuff. No sleep last night, but, you know, whatever. How about you, after, you know, you just left me there!

So, he just walks on by, following Iggy, not even looking at me again. Well, way to be infuriating, Fang.

"What? No cookies?" Iggy asks, outraged.

I close my eyes and sigh. Gotta face Fang, gotta face Fang, gotta face Fang…

"Get out of my kitchen, Ig!" I shout.

Facing Fang can go onto my (very long) to-do list.

"What are you guys doing here?" I ask, following them into my kitchen. I can't bring myself to look at Fang. But I will! I promise! It's on my to-do list!

Alright, who am I kidding? I don't even have a real list. Not even a piece of paper.

"The house is empty, right?" Iggy asks at Fang sits at the table. Iggy's rummaging through the fridge.

It's nice that he keeps his hands clean.

I mean, at least I think that he does…

Let's just forget the last thought, shall we?

It's nice that he keeps his hands clean.

"Well… yes…"

"Well then, the three of us haven't hung out in, say, a week and a day? And no, I haven't been listening to Disney Channel. And we should probably make use of the time, seeing as… Ooh, bacon!"

I sigh.

Iggy and his bacon. Fang and Iggy's bacon.

OK, I'll admit it. That sounded bad.

But they're both obsessed about bacon.

And… just don't.

Iggy feels his way around my kitchen and eventually finds a frying pan.

"Careful with that," Fang says. Iggy frowns in Fang's general direction.

"Oh, sure, doubt the blind guy," he snarls.

"Well, yeah…"

"But we all know that I'm not the average blind guy," Iggy says. I roll my eyes. Iggy's testosterone level is not to be judged lightly. And then he starts doing the bizarre thing in which he spins the frying pan's handle through his fingers. I'll admit, it looks kind of cool. Like he's in a Kung-Fu movie or something.

Or Tangled, but whatever. Because I totally haven't seen that movie. Pft…

"Aha!" Iggy says, as if he himself is surprised of his mad skillz. (And I did not just think 'mad skills') Even Fang has raised his eyebrows. "OK, I'm blind, but this has got to look pretty god-damn cool."

"Yup, now you really can run away with the circus," Fang says. He won't look at me. But I'm not thinking about that right now. I'm just watching Iggy being a complete and total – but cool – freak-

The frying pan in flung out of Iggy's hand and Fang ducks under the table. It crashes against the wall that had been directly behind Fang's head.

"Whoa!" Iggy says. "That's loud!"

A normal person would spout out 'sorry' as fast as they can.

But, Iggy, as well as not being an average blind guy, he's not an average person either.

"No, you didn't hit me," Fang says irritably, standing up.

"You hit the wall pretty hard," I say, observing the dent in the wall. Fang turns around and looks at it too.

"Dude, you're going to die," he says. Iggy grins.

"It was perfectly aimed at your head, wasn't it?" he asks, sounding hopeful.

"I'm not going to kill you," Fang says calmly. "Dr. M is when she comes back and sees a dent in her wall."

Iggy's grin falls.

"Well, this sucks."

Well put.

He pauses, as if pondering something.

"Still up for bacon?"

Fang smirks.

"I'm always up for bacon."

OK. I'd be as emo as Fang if I didn't burst out laughing.

Fang stares at me, and starts to smile too. Then Iggy starts to cackle like a mad-man, and all normalcy (though I'm not saying that there was any to begin with) is lost.

And, you know, with the awkwardness between me and Fang, I'm kind of fine with just this.

OK, so I love it.

Iggy's still cackling like a mad-man as he puts the frying pan (also dented, by the way) on the stove and gets ready to put in the bacon.

I breathe heavily, trying to calm myself down, trying not to look completely crazy. Fang is still smiling, and that's as good as it gets.

And then our eyes meet, and his smile fades.

It feels like I actually can't move. Time stops –literally. OK, so not literally, but cranoodle. My heart rate increases by, like, a hundred and sixty percent. I'm a-hopin' that his does too, because otherwise it just wouldn't be fair.

… When did this happen? I mean, really? When did meeting eyes with Fang turn into such a big deal?

But his eyes are so dark… like chocolate… like dark chocolate… like melted dark chocolate… Have I mentioned that I like chocolate? Because I do… And I like Fang's eyes, too… they're nice…

"If you two are making out back there, you do know that you're supposed to kiss the chef, right?" Iggy says to the frying pan. Well, not to the frying pan, but you know what I mean…

And, well, that certainly snaps me out of it.

"I'm going to check to see if there's damage on the other side of the wall," I say quickly, looking anywhere but where Fang is. "If not, maybe we could hang up a picture or something to cover it up."

And I am so out of there.

I know that I'll have to go back for the bacon, but hey, I'm moving. I close the kitchen door behind me and breathe out.

Gotta face Fang, gotta face Fang, gotta face Fang, gotta get some face off of Fang, gotta- Wait, WHAT?

I do look to see if there's a dent in the wall in the hallway, but that would have to be one bad-ass frying pan. Not a surprise that the wall is as boring as ever – honestly, it wouldn't kill mom to by some paintings or something. You know, big paintings that cost a little over five dollars.

I tap the wall for a while, trying to calm down. Then I realize that, with no wall and no door, I would be tapping Fang's head.

Teeheehee

"Max."

"Cranoodle!"

"Stop saying that."

"Stop sneaking up on me!"

You know when you seem to have the same conversation, over and over? It should have a name… Oh, wait, it does.

But, for some reason the conversation is so much different right now. And no, not because I'm having it with Fang.

OK, because I'm having it with Fang.

I fail so heard at not caring.

"Did Iggy send you out here?" I ask him.

Fang shakes his head.

He seems to read my mind – the teasing will never end! – and shrugs.

"I'm pretty quiet when I move."

I'm about to say 'Well, no freaking duh' when realization dawns on me.

"He's talking to himself," I say, listening out. "Well, technically to you… That's mean."

"It's Iggy," Fang points out.

"Oh, then it's alright then… What happened yesterday?"

I just blurt it out, and I trip over my words, because I'm smooth like that.

"I mean… you just left," I try as I pick up the pieces of my dignity. And then I realize that I'm kind of pissed at him. Meaning very pissed.

I put my hands on my hips and glare at him.

"I thought that it was more of a family thing," he answers.

"You're my family."

He raises an eyebrow. I bet that he's thinking 'incest' too. And that's just nasty.

"Yeah, well, I had to leave."

"It was Bridgid, wasn't it?"

"What?" he asks. Ooh, wrong move. "No… Max, just stop it with Bridgid already, okay?"

"OK, okaaay." Pause. "So, what was it? Really? And don't say that you heard the word 'bacon' being used unfairly in a sentence so you had to go and balance out the universe."

True story.

Fang hesitates.

"My mom called," he says finally.

I raise an eyebrow.

"You're mom called," I repeat. His expression betrays nothing.

As per fudging usual. Pardon my (odd) French.

"Since when was she allowed to have your number?"

Fang shrugs.

"Something's up," I say, feeling like quite the people-reader. I mean, I can read Fang. That has to get me a Nobel Prize or something.

I mean, take that, Bridgid the super-nerd.

"What was your mom calling you for?"

Fang shifts his weight.

"I thought you knew," he finally says.

"Knew what, exactly?"

It's obviously not good, seeing as he's delaying it.

And then he takes a step towards me. I curse the day he was suddenly taller than me. Because it actually happened like that. One minute, we were the same height, then we stood next to each other and mom was like: 'Fang, you've grown!'

In a second.

Mad growing skillz. With a 'z'.

Ooh, wait, I'm off topic.

By a mile.

Oh my cranoodle, I'm terrible, aren't I? Soon I'm going to start thinking about how Nudge thinks that Fangtastic should be a word…

OH, I SEE WHAT I DID THERE. OOPS.

Anyways…

Fang is doing it again. The whole leaning-in-for-a-kiss thing.

But he's stopped at a distance that's just infuriating. I mean, his hair is touching my forehead. And I can smell how nice he smells again.

Then, the super-cool mind-reading happens again.

He's not closing the distance because he wants me to.

Aha, he's so naïve.

And – I only realized this moments ago – his eyes are Fangtastic. And yes, I will shoot you if you tell anyone I thought that. (Who is 'you'? Blargh)

I look away from his eyes, but then I just look at his mouth.

OMG FAIL.

"Why now?"

For some reason, it comes out in a whisper, when I feel like I should be shouting because I'M TOTALLY FREAKING OUT.

AGAIN!

Fang swallows.

OK, for some reason, that's totally se- awesome. OK, awesome's not doing it for me. How about hot? Yeah, let's just leave it at that. Or at extremely attractive.

And not at Fangtastical .

(W. T. F?)

"Now because…" Fang starts, not looking at my eyes. Aha, been there, done that, buddy. "I just want to… before… Listen, Max, I-"

"Hey, lovebirds! The bacon is ready! And it's not my fault if I eat it all!"

Fang doesn't move an inch. In fact, he's clenched his fists and is as stiff as a statue, like he does when he's pissed off at someone, or something.

Probably Iggy. OK, most definitely at Iggy. And, in that case, I share Fang's sentiments.

IGGY MUST DIE.

So, I do the first thing that I can think of that will make us both feel better.

I close the gap between us.


A/N2: Hey, guys! I know, we can all meet up one day and talk about how evil I am.

But, until then, here's the rest of the chapter!

(Fooled you, haha! Sorry, couldn't resist... EVILLL):


Kissing Fang...

Well, you see... kissing Fang is...

Um...

IT'S FANGTASTIC.

Aw, dang it, I just had to.

We can talk about morality later.

And, oh, points to me for kissing him first! I mean, I win, huh?

No, I don't win the 'game'. Does that even exist anymore?

I just win at being so much more awesome than Fang.

WIN.

As soon as my mouth touches his, it doesn't take him long to catch on. He unfreezes from his statue-form and then we're kissing each other, and can I please repeat the word FANGTASTIC. In capitals.

Because I'm worth it.

And yes, you're allowed to shoot me now.

But, if these are my last seconds on Earth, so be it.

Argh, kissing Fang is making my brain cocky. Not good.

... Or is it?

I'll stop now.

He puts his hands on my waist, as if to make sure that I won't go anywhere - Ha, as if! - and I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in closer.

And, here's the much loved part of me thinks this/part of me thinks that:

Part of me is thikning: Ohhhh snap, I'm kissing Fang, and he's kissing back, and... Iggy's in the kitchen?

The other part of me is thinking: FANGFANGFANG FANGFANGFANG FANGFANGFANG FANGFANGFANG FANGFANGFANG FANGFANGFANG FANGFANGFANG

And the 'other part' occupies a considerably louder part of my brain.

So, I'm kind of asking for:

"You know, sometimes I wish that I could see again just to see you two awkwardly making out. It's bound to be hilarious."

Fang and I freeze and turn towards the blind guy, who's holding a frying pan full of freshly cooked bacon.

Now my brain is still in 'FANGFANGFANG' mode, so what comes out of my mouth is:

"Huh?"

It's unbelievably sad.

I mean, Fang, the chatterbox, manages more than me. Not fair.

"You need to sort out your priorities."

"Don't go all Ron Weasley on me. I'm the ginger."

Aww, c'mon, a quote?

And all I can think to say is: "Huh?"

Again.

Iggy smirks.

"Well, I'm sorry my friend, but I'm not doing that for your going-away present." He must here Fang step away from me. "Unless you want me to...?"

I look at Fang in disbelief.

"You're going away?"

Fang's eyes are alert and confused. He looks from me to Iggy.

The latter says, "Oops. My bad."


A/N3: EVIL.

Much love to you guys! Less than three guys, less than three!