This is going to be an . . . odd chapter. And you have to remember not to jump to conclusions.
JP: Jumping conclusions can lead people in bad directions. *cough* Sanity. *cough*
Me: Yes?
JP: *face palm* Never mind . . .
Skid: I like this chapter. Max is . . . interesting.
Tank: If interesting is crazy, then yes.
Disclaimer of the crazy chick: I STILL DON'T OWN THEM/HER! DAMMIT!
Me: This chapter presses an issue I think is wrong. Sure, people have free will, think what thay want, do what they want, but did youeven just think of what you're doing? Ever ask them what they wanted? Read the chapter . . . you'll get it. I'd love to hear your opinions.
Really,
Oh, shit, I'm gonna puke.
I threw the covers off of myself and ran to my bathroom. I got on my knees and puked into the cool porcelain. I should have cut that hair off a long time ago. I pulled it back myself and continued to empty my stomach contents. I didn't feel sick last night . . .
No. No, no, no, no, no . . . I can't be . . . We had used protection . . . Right?
I had no time to think about it. I was still puking my brains out. My stomach contents were now empty, and, thank God, my puking was done with. For now. I stayed on the floor of the bathroom for a while, just thinking things through. God I hope I'm wrong . . .
I pulled myself off of the floor and washed my slightly sweaty face with some cool water. I turned the faucet off and exited the bathroom, pulled on some sweats, tennis shoes, my purse, and walked downstairs. It had to be determined. Now.
I unlocked the door and slipped out of the house. I decided I needed the fresh air, and just walked to the store. The clear night air helped me think about things. I didn't exactly want to have a baby. But I don't think I'd be able to kill him/her. It'd just be . . . wrong. I was never for abortion. Never even liked the idea of it. You're taking away a life when you have abortion. It's practically killing your child.
Before I realized it, I was at the 24/7 convenience store, and walking through the doors. The bright lights hurt my eyes, but I squinted and continued down the isle. I passed the counter, and did the head nod with te girl behind it. She returned the nod.
I walked to the isle that held the pregnancy tests and grabbed the first two I saw. I just wanted to get this over with. I walked to the counter and put the items on it.
The girl had blond dread locks pulled back in a thick headband, and green eyes. Other than that, when I really tried to focuse on her face, it was blurry, like a crappy old movie. Weird.
She looked at me, looked at the items, rang them up, and gave me the bill.
I handed her the money and grabbed the bag.
"Hey!" she said just as I was about to walk out.
"Yeah?" I snapped.
"I just wanted to say . . . good luck," she replied and sat back down on the stool.
I nodded. "Thanks." But I really didn't know what it meant anymore.
The house
In your world, five minutes probably ticked by like five seconds. In my world? It goes by like five. Fucking. Hours. You know I'm an impatient person, right? Well, I might be pregnant, I'm impatient, and I have to wait five minutes until I can know. Nothing and is going well.
Finally - and I mean FINALLY - the alarm on my phone went off and I picked the pregnancy test off of the edge of the sink. I looked at the little symbol on it, purse my lips, and open the other box, just to be positive.
Fang
Max still hates my guts. I can't say I blame her. She was heart broken. She loved me, and I broke her heart by cheating on her. At least, that's what she thinks. I didn't do a thing with Lissa. NOT A THING. Got that? Good. But it probably won't be the last time you hear it.
Max, Max, Max, Max, Max. That was the only thing running through my head. Jow much I missed her. How much I missed her lips on mine, her hand in mine, her in my arms. Being love sick sucks . . .
I love Max. A lot. How could she ever think I'd cheat on her? And I didn't even talk to her! I'm a wimp. I was scared I'd make things even worse than they already were. I tried talking to her, but what did she do? Shoved me away. Not literally, of course. But still . . . it hurt. Love stinks.
I'm thinking about just giving it up. Love, I mean. It probably doesn't even exist. God just plays these seriously mean jokes on us, then he rips that little thing called "love" out of our hearts, burns it, and spreads the ashes in the wind . . .
WARNING, WARNING: EMO FANG. HE'S COME AT LAST!
I sighed. People always called me "emo" because I wore black a lot. But it made no sense. Emo means emotionally unstable, and I'm pretty damn stable with my emotions. We have an agreement. They stay put, and I don't kill them. But right now? I'm seriously tempted. All a bunch of emotions are playing in my head. I love Max; who wouldn't? But yet I hate her. She thought I would cheat on her. I'm happy she had the reaction she did; she can take care of herself and doesn't put up with people's crap. And I'm pissed at her for having the exact same reaction I said I was glad she had; she didn't even give me a chance to talk to her about it.
I rolled over and screamed into the pillow, making my throat hurt. Life makes absolutely NO SENSE. Listen, my young pupils. You're gonna have some tough times in life. Don't listen to that thing you call "love". It's complicated, nasty business. It ruins lives. It's like drugs; makes you sick, eventually killing you. Maybe not literally, but inside? It makes you all hollow and sick feeling. Like you can throw up, but you can't. Depressing stuff, huh?
The door to my bed room opened, and I flipped onto my back. Max leaned against the door frame, holding something in her hands.
"Heyg," she said.
I sat up, hope filling me. And what did I come up with?
"Hey."
Ooohhh, yeah. I'm that awesome.
She walked over to the bed, and handed me whatever she had in her hand. "Merry Chrismas, Fang." Then she walked out of my room, and closed the door behind her.
I furrowed my brow and pulled the switch on the bedside table. A pregnancy test?
My first thought was, Eeewww. Max peed on this.
My next thought was, Waitaminute . . . SHIT.
I looked at the little symbol on the end and breathed out. I fell back onto the bed, and closed my eyes. The little negative sign was permanently imprinted into my brain.
Seven AM
"FANG!" Angel yelled directly in my ear. "IT'S CHRISTMASS!"
I groaned and rolled over. "Five . . . more minutes."
"No!" she yelled and pulled my arm. "Get up!"
I sighed and cracked an eye open, looking at Max's mini me. "Get out so I can put some clothes on, Angel."
She glared at me. "Don't you dare go back to sleep."
I nodded, and she ran out of the room. Geez. Excited much? I got out of bed and out on a shirt and some jeans. Walked downstairs, ate a piece of bacon, and went into the living room.
I grinned. Angel was practically exploding with excitement. The second she saw me, she said, "Gimme, gimme, gimme!"
Max laughed, a sound like bells. "Alright, kiddo. Calm down!" She handed her a box and smiled at Angel. She tore into the box, and pulled out a pink tutu.
"Thank you, Max!" Angel said and threw her arms around Max's neck.
"You're welcome, Ange," Max said and hugged her back.
This went on for a while. Gazzy got a lighter, and said, his exact words, "Sweeet," while flicking it on and off. Max glared at him, and he put it away. Iggy . . . a lighter and a box of matches, with more stuff. It all went by in a blur to me. I didn't give anything to Max. It didn't seem right.
When the gifts were exchanged, Max went with Ella and Nudge to their house, to celebrate Christmas again. Angel went with them.
So I was all alone. I took out my cell phon, went to contacts, and pressed 'mom'.
"Nick!" she said over the phone. "Honey, it's been weeks since we heard from you!"
The corners of my mouth twitched. "Hey, Mom. I just wanted to say Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmans, honey," she replied.
"Hey . . " I said. "Can I talk to dad?"
"Sure. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Guy stuff."
"Oh, ok. I'll get him."
I heard the scuffing of her feet against the floor, and her call, 'Nick! Your son wants to talk to you!'
A minute later, my dad picked up the phone. "Hey, Fang. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," I replied.
"I take it you didn't just wanted to say that?" he asked.
I sighed. "No . . . I need advice."
"On what?" he asked, amusement in his words. I never asked for anything. Ever.
"Girls," I said, breathing the word out.
He laughed. "Girls are complicated creatures, Fang. Impossible to decipher."
"You're telling me."
"Did I ever tell you how i met your mother?" he asked.
I thought about it. "Actually, no."
He chuckled. "I didn't think so. She was the first woman to ever turn me down."
"You're kidding," I said, smiling. A woman resisting the Harrison charm? IMPOSSIBLE.
"No, I'm not. I had asked her out in front of all my friends, expecting her to say yes and swoon like any other girl would. Instead, she said she wouldn't date me if I was thelast man alive."
I snickered. "Bet your ego really took a blow there, huh?"
"Yep. But I didn't give up. Took me almost a year to get her to go out with me. Then, to go on another date, a month."
"Seriously?" I asked.
"One-hundred percent. But, eventually, I got her heart. And she already had mine."
"Aw. That's so cheesy."
"Meh. I never said I wasn't cheesy."
"True," I replied.
"So what's yourgirl trouble? Can't get her to go on a date with you? Fang, you'll be coming home in a few days."
"No, no," I sighed. "I already had her. Then I lost her."
He let his breath out in a hiss. "Woman are like a lot of animals, Fang. If you lose their trust once, you might not get it back."
"I know that," I replied. "It's hard enough to even get her to talk to me."
"What did you do?" he asked.
"She thinks I cheated on her."
"Did you?"
"No!" I yelled. "I'd never do that!"
"I know, son," he said. There was a pause. "So what's her name?"
"Max," I said.
"Your host family's daughter?" my father asked.
"Yeah," I replied, knowing where he was going with this.
"And they're the Ride family?"
"Don't go there," I growled.
"Sorry, son," he said, chuckling. "I couldn't help myself . . . But she must mean a lot to you."
I sighed. "Yeah. She does."
"Give her a little time,"he advised.
"Like you said, I only have a few more days here."
"Yeah, I know . . . talk to her, then."
"I'll try," I said.
"Um . . . bye," he said.
"Bye, dad," I said and was about to hang up when he added that last thing.
"Son, I love you," he said.
I grinned. "Love you, too, dad."
One day, mushiness will kill me. Slowly and painfully.
AHHHHH! ALL THIS MUSH IS ALREADY KILLING ME! I NEED FUNNY OR GORE! I'M GOING TO DIE OF THIS STUFF ONE DAY!
RN-FREAKING-R BEFORE I GO INSANE!
- SANITY WHO IS ABOUT TO DIE OF MUSHINESS (HELP HER.)