Oh, and before I forget, here's something I just wanted to add up here.
Choice - One of those stories where there's a big misunderstanding and Max and the Flock are seperated. What happens when Max wants revenge? Poor Fang thought Max was dead, the Flock is torn, and now their former leader is planning a attack! Ah, it's a very fun story to write. (Check it out, if you like Silences, you'll like this one. Just try it!)
I have two others that I was thinking about posting, but I don't feel like putting up the summaries here. They aren't released yet, so I don't want to risk people stealing my ideas. Just keep checking our profile, maybe I'll finally put them up for people to read!
Epilogue. Be Happy.
Max's POV
We were raiding Dr. Martinez's backyard with our shouting and obnoxious behavior. "I want to ring the doorbell first!" Nudge announced, landing on the green grass and running around to the porch out front. "I get to knock!" Gazzy yelled, sprinting after her. "Okay, well I get to scream through the mail slot!" Angel called after them, trying to catch up.
"Oy." I muttered, rubbing my head, trudging across the lawn. "Maybe we should've given them a head's up?" I asked, directed at Fang. He didn't answer me, looking as bad as I felt. It was like those three kids were on a major sugar high.
"I'll go make sure they don't do anything," Iggy grunted, walking ahead. I rolled my eyes, and just watched my feet walk across the grass. Left, right, left, right. Left--
"If you guys walk any slower, I think a turtle will pass you!" Gazzy called over the porch railing. He looked pretty annoyed. "Why? Are you waiting for us to ring the doorbell, knock and... scream?" Fang asked, pausing a bit at the last part. The Gasman nodded at least a hundred times.
"Stop shaking your head like that, you'll break it!" Nudge said to him.
"No it won't!" he answered, still moving his head. "For your information, I have a very strong neck."
"You also have a brain full of hot air!" Nudge retorted.
"OKAY!" I said over them, reaching the porch. "Are you going to ring the doorbell or am I?"
"I'm knocking," the Gasman reminded me and I glared at him. All of us were eager to tell my Mom about the good news. That it was finally over. No more 'Do this' or 'Do that' or 'Destiny' and 'You will die' crap. It was over. Angel's shoe tapping interrupted my thoughts. "Can we please knock now?"
"I thought Gazzy was knocking," Nudge said, confused.
"Okay quit it!" Iggy exclaimed impatiently. "Do the damn knocking, screaming and ringing! I would like some air conditioning."
And then the hell after the world was saved began.
--
"Okay, guys, remember, preheat the oven. I'm taking Ella to her soccer game. If you're gonna make cookies, you better make them right," Dr. Martinez said, chuckling. She had handed Nudge the ingredients list, and had made four other copies stored in a drawer far from the kitchen, just incase something went wrong. "Also, no bombs in the cookies, and no cookie dough fights unless you are willing to clean it up!" I smirked from my place at the kitchen table, just there to supervise. Since I really couldn't cook, I didn't feel like trying. And messing up. And getting teased about it forever for my lifetime (however long it was) about how cookies exploded... without any explosives.
Ella came down the stairs, in her soccer uniform. She had a ball in one hand, a bottle of water in the other, and cleats hanging by their laces in her teeth. I didn't even want to think about where those had been. She sat down on the last step and began untangling the knot that held them together to put them on her feet. "You know, you guys could always come to the game. It'll be really fun..." I glared at my step sister and she immediately shut her mouth. "I-I mean, you really shouldn't come to the game, your better off making... erm, cookies! Yep, yummy, yummy... cookies." She was slowly backing out towards the door, and then ran out.
"That's what I thought." I murmured, and Fang rolled his eyes at me. I didn't want to risk our new 'freedom' but being exposed to the public. As I thought of it, we'd wait a few days before walking out the front door, then after a week or two, we could take our wings out for a spin, and find somewhere else to crash for the night. Maybe find a semi-permanent home.
"I'll tell you if she wins," My Mom called over her shoulder, swinging the car keys. She walked out the door and started up the car. "Feel free to give me a ring, tell me if anything went wrong so I expect it!" I smiled and waved to Ella, sitting in the front seat. She just cringed. I laughed.
After the car drove out of the driveway, well, not even after it drove out of the driveway, the Flock changed their innocent acts into their normal behaviors. Fun.
"Hey, that's way too much flour!" the Gasman said to Nudge, who was putting two cups into the big yellow bowl. I rubbed my temples, getting ready to jump up and separate the two winged children.
"It is not," Nudge disagreed, still pouring some of the white stuff into the mixture. "Now that is enough."
"No, it's too much, dumbo. Take some out!"
"How do you know, you never made cookies in your life!"
"Neither have you!" Gazzy countered, his hands clenching into fists. Nudge's had three fingers around an egg, and I felt like smacking a plank of wood repeatedly on my stupid brain. Bang, Bang, BANG!
The sound effects seemed too real to be in my head. I opened my (closed) eyes, and saw five raw eggs thrown at the wall, yellow yolk all over some of my Mom's priceless photos in expensive frames. "NUDGE! GAZZY!" I screamed, and they slowly turned their heads to look at me. Fang was studying the egg damage carefully, Iggy looked confused, and Angel seemed horrified. "Go down the hallway and get some wipes to clean up!" I ordered, daring them to say something.
"But Nudge threw them!" the Gasman complained, hoping for me to understand. It didn't work.
"But you started it!" Nudge protested.
"OKAY! Guys, we just saved the world. And now you're fighting about flour and how to make cookies. Neither of you have the right to destroy someone's house just because of a disagreement. Now, go get the wipes from the cabinet in the bathroom, gets some paper towels from the garage, and clean up. Understand?"
"Yes Max," they both answered glumly, walking towards the bathroom. They were halfway down the hallway when it started up again. "Hey, I'm getting the wipes!" Nudge muttered, opening the cabinet.
"No! I am!"
"Oy," I muttered, rubbing my temples. I heard Angel going through some stuff in the kitchen, talking to Iggy, and Fang carefully mixing together a new batch of dry ingredients. Cookie making could be extremely dangerous to people's house items. Please take this into consideration before deciding to make your own with five Flock members. I had obviously not thought of the risks. Silly me.
-x-x-x-
"So we just... mix this until it's ready?" I asked, and Fang just shook his head at my stupidity. He took the bowl out of my hands and poured the chocolate chips into the dough. Iggy proceeded with stirring the chips with a wooden spoon and taking clumps and putting them on a cookie sheet.
"Can we atleast have some dough?" Nudge asked, sweeping up the flour that was on the floor.
"No." Fang said, ignoring her angry face.
"But it's not fair!" Gaz said, stomping his feet.
"And you're saying life... is suppose to be fair?" I questioned, shoving some of the extra chocolate chips into my mouth and chomping down.
"Yes." Nudge answered, and I rolled my eyes.
"You still have to clean the counters." Iggy muttered, washing his hands and placing the cookie sheet in the oven. "We don't want Dr. Martinez to come home to a dirty house." The two stubborn kids groaned, and moved on to the sink, where the utensils had to be washed.
"I'm going to see what Angel is up to," I said to myself, lifting off the chair and walking into the den.
"Hi Max," the six year-old said to me, smiling. She had gotten bored with making cookies and decided to move on to coloring blank sheets of paper. "Look at what I made!"
She held up a picture of a big, giant cookie. It had eyes and a nose, and a speech bubble that said, 'I'm really delcous!' I smirked at Angel's misspell and searched through her other drawings. Most of them were rainbows, pretty flowers, smiley faces, and even some stick figures hanging out at the beach or a pool.
"Maybe we can do that sometime?" Angel asked me, her blue eyes looking excited and hurt mixed together.
"Maybe." I answered, trying to smile. I tried to keep my thoughts to myself. "I'm going... to go up to the attic, okay? Send a thought if anything goes wrong." She nodded and turned back to the crayons.
Oh, God, I'm gonna lose it, I thought, darting up the attic stairs. Maybe my Mom had something that would amuse me up here. Maybe some pictures of cousins, grandmas... I inwardly cringed, remembering that they would be my cousins, and that the grandma would be mine. So, maybe that wasn't the best thing to do right now. I paced, looking back and forth, finally settling on a box that said, School Items - Junior High. It was funny, I never thought someone would save stuff from that long ago. I searched through the various things, reading a few science papers.
A nucleus is a membrane-enclosed organelle found in most eukaryotic cells. It usually contains most of the cell's genetic material, organized...
I stopped reading it immediately, turning onto a diary. A diary?, I asked, puzzled. I only thought these existed in movies, young girls writing their deepest thoughts about the hottest guy in school, and how one cheerleader always gets him, then all the sudden he notices the young, love-struck teenager, asks her out, yada, yada, yada. I was curious if my Mom was one of those junior-high girls, and almost laughed. She couldn't be... could she? I yanked the thing open and began to read.
October 12th --
My mother wants me to start writing in a diary because she thinks I'm holding everything back inside, and thinks I'll become suicidal like her John on her favorite soap opera. I worry about that woman sometimes.
I laughed, enjoying this.
My Dog, Angelo, just died yesterday morning, and I'm fretfully upset.
Is that a good enough impersonation for one of the girls my age these days? Complaining about this, that, how their boyfriend's broke up with them... what they did last summer... Ugh, it's sickening. I can't wait 'til I get out of Junior High, out of High School, start college, then begin to live my dream as a scientist. It's my dream. I don't know what I'm going to do yet, though. Only time will tell. Hopefully I won't regret it... ha-ha.
It was nice, talking to you... a piece of paper. Yeah.
-Valencia.
My Mom was so cool.
"Hey, what'cha doing?" Fang asked, standing in the doorway. I shrugged and went through the pages of the diary, still a little flustered about what he had said when I almost got killed by Flyboys.
"Nothing." I replied, setting the book back in the box. It was silent for a while.
"What were you laughing about?" he asked, trying to start a conversation. I just moved my shoulders up and down, fixing my position on the floor. It was dusty, and the nails were rusting, but it was still somewhere to sit. "Was it that?" Fang pointed to the diary I had placed back in the cardboard hold, and lifted it out.
"Yeah," I responded, looking at the floorboards.
"Look, don't be all monotone, okay?" he said, and I smiled. "I'm not a role model."
"No, your not." I said, switching back into my angry-Max mode. He looked at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry," was all he said, rubbing his thumb against the wood, sitting next to me.
"You really scared all of us," I whispered, shaking my head. "If you wanted to die, you could have told us before hand, you know." My head had snapped up to add the ugly words into his face.
"Yeah... I know."
"And if you wanted to let me get killed, you could have told someone so they could slap you silly and nail you down to a tree!" I exclaimed, and he looked a little hurt.
"I'd never want you to die," he had said, still looking at the floor.
"Fang, God dammit, just fricken look at me, okay?" He turned his head to stare at me, his super deep brown eyes leaking into mine.
"I wanted to distract them," was all he had said, still staring.
"But that was no reason--" He cut me off, shoving his lips onto mine. I protested, but he just kept on going. I eventually pulled away, a new level of anger set.
"What the hell was that?!"
"An explanation."
I looked at him my eyes shooting daggers.
"Want another one?" he questioned and I tried to stop my smirk. It didn't really do much. And Mr. Fang took that as a 'yes' (stupid facial muscles, do I have to put them in timeout tonight!), he caught me, and this time I had no choice to kiss back, which, of course, was an excuse to.
"Did I tell you that I love you yet?" he asked, breaking away.
"Yes." I replied, and I felt like one of those teenagers my Mom's diary talked about. Of course. Me, Maximum Ride, in love? Hah. That's funny. I laid flat on my back, staring at the attic roof. Fang had went downstairs to go check on the cookies, Ella was back from her soccer game, and Iggy was talking about how the stain on the picture frame in the kitchen was a new addition to the household.
It's funny how in one day, your life is changed.
Life comes with unexpected surprises, the Voice reminded me, and I rolled my eyes. Annoyance was still part of the deal.
A/N : Yay?
I'm sick, tomorrow's the first day of school, and I just saw a cat fly across my window.
Distractions, distractions.
Review, maybe it'll make my burning throat and headache go away?
Review please, it's the last part of the story, you have to tell me if it was good... or not!
-Maximum Writers.