Authors Note: A slight drop in reviews for last chapter, although those who did seemed to get what message I was trying to get across. I'll also apologize in advance for the way this chapter skips from one major thing to the next, so quickly, but I don't want to drag stuff on longer than need be. Anyway, read on.
And remember; next chapter is the last one. Can you believe that?
Chapter Twenty Nine:
Guilt
"Jeb," I stated in an emotionless tone, glaring at him with enough heat to sear his own retinas beyond use. Despite this, he neither flinched nor looked away, standing his ground defiantly.
"Maxine," he said warmly, giving me a wide smile. I frowned at this, my eyebrows pulling together.
"It's Max, actually," I said scathingly, giving him my most fearsome look.
"You were born with the name Maxine, therefore I will call you Maxine . . . or perhaps Maximum would be more towards your taste?" he inquired, moving closer surreptitiously. I noticed though, as soon as he shifted his weight. As far as I was concerned this was just the same as any old fight, him being my enemy. He deserved my full attention, as I waited for him to strike.
"Maybe," I replied nonchalantly, not letting my shock at his knowing my fighting name shine through my carefully cultivated blank exterior.
"Max?" Angel's small voice reached my ears, as her tiny hand slipped into mine. I glanced down to see her standing at my side protectively, her brow furrowed as she stared at Jeb. Was there something lying dormant inside her, some instinct saying this man was her father?
"Angel," I said in a low, controlled tone. The look in Jeb's eyes softened as he stared down at Angel, and I had to press my lips together in a tight line so as not to let the growl I could feel building in my throat escape, "please go with your brother. I promise I'll see you soon."
"Okay, Max," she whispered, her hand slipping away from mine. I stood, clutching empty air, a pang swallowing deep into my soul. Something about the loss of her touch made me feel even more guilty. I tore my gaze away from Jeb long enough to watch my siblings as they left, turning back only once to wave before they were both out of sight.
"I see many things have changed since I . . ." He stopped, not wanting to admit to his leaving.
"Since you abandoned us," I finished for him, turning my cold, calculating glare on him with a renewed force.
"I didn't abandon you," he said softly, bringing his hand up like he was going to touch me. I flinched away, taking a precautionary step back, so he couldn't reach me. Something flickered in his eyes as his hand dropped to his side once more.
"Oh really? What do you call walking out on us, then?" I snarled.
"I don't expect you to understand, Maximum," he said gravely, his tone taking on a new quality. A resigned look came into his eyes as he realized this meeting was not going as planned. What did he think I was, the same Daddy's little girl I had been before he left? Obviously he hadn't anticipated the depth of my hatred for him; this coward before me.
"Then why are you here?" I demanded, crossing my arms in front of my chest. Vaguely I was aware that Fang was somewhere nearby, hovering on the edges. He was probably listening very intently to our conversation, but I couldn't find the will within me to care. "Why now?"
He stayed silent.
"Was the guilt finally getting to you?" I inquired, intent on making him squirm. "Was the realization that you walked out on your family finally becoming too much to bear?"
"Maximum-" he began, growing defensive.
"I really hope you're not here looking for reconciliation, because that's one thing you'll never receive. I won't ever forgive you for what you've done, so don't even think of asking." My voice was poised and deadly, each word another knife to his wound. I could see the deep impact my words had on him, as he struggled to reimburse his calm facade.
"They called me," he admitted, suddenly looking worn and tired. There was a certain hollowness to his eyes that had never been there before.
"Who?" I snapped sharply, my tone flinty.
"The School," he said. I couldn't help but smirk at his use of my name for the gym. He had heard me say it a dozen times as a child, never actually knowing the meaning behind the words. He had sort of adopted it as his own name for the place as well.
"So? I hardly see how it concerns you."
"They told me about your agreement. They thought I'd like to know you were starting up again, that you would be going to Nationals alongside their best gymnasts," he explained roughly, running a hand through his graying hair.
I stared at him coldly, waiting for him to continue.
"They asked me to be there, to cheer you on . . . Gymnastics; it was our thing. I just thought that since you had started again . . ." he trailed off uselessly, a deep sigh reverberating through him.
"What? That everything would suddenly be okay? That I had woken up one morning and decided that what you did wasn't wrong? That you didn't leave us for the dead, never once looking back?"
"Ma-" he began to say, this time not hesitating as he stepped forward. I slapped his hand away before it could come in contact with my arm, blinking back the tears burning in my eyes.
"Don't ever try to contact me, or anyone else in my family again. Do you understand? I will hurt you if you even go near them, and if you think that's low, you're wrong. As far as I'm concerned you can say that biologically you're my dad, but you're not my father. Don't ever think any different," I ordered seriously, my barely contained rage leaking into my words, morphing them into individual hostile strikes.
I turned my back to him before he could get in another word, not being able to stand to hear his excuses, or look at his despicable face for a second longer. The impossibility of seeing him for the first time in years was finally settling in. Before I had been too shocked at his sudden appearance to really dwell on my surprise, but it was slowly trickling back in each step I took.
"You have a brother, Max," I heard Jeb say softly, sounding completely drained. I took one more step before stiffening, my back still to him. "A half brother, actually. His name is Ari. He's only seven . . . He'd really like to meet you someday."
"Come on, Fang," I said in a voice devoid of emotion, motioning for him from where he stood, an appropriate distance away from where Jeb and I had had our face off.
We walked to the car in silence, never once looking back. Fang didn't try to broach the subject, even as we were arriving at my house once again. He knew I would tell him on my own terms.
I myself was still trying to understand what had happened. Jeb, who I hadn't heard from since the moment he left, suddenly decided to come back? For what? I wasn't buying his crap story about the gymnastics. He probably had an ulterior motive. Maybe he thought getting back on my good side would ensure him a piece of my prize money, which I was now more than ever intent on receiveing.
And what was this about a half brother? It didn't surprise me that Jeb had moved on from my mother. In fact, a love affair with his new wife may have been his whole reason for abandoning us in the first place. But a child produced from it? I never would have thought.
Either way, I hoped he enjoyed his new perfect family while it would last. I hoped, for the sake of that child, he was the father he was supposed to be. No one deserved what my brother and sister had gotten. A drug addict for a mother, a runaway father, and a sister unable to keep her promises. Ari, whatever he was like, could revel in his comforts. I wouldn't hold him to blame. It wasn't his fault, only Jeb's.
I was paranoid after that. Everywhere I went I imagined I was seeing Jeb around every corner. Even when I went to Leroy's gym for the first time since Jared's death, I thought I caught a glimpse of him in the dank, musty room. I never went back after that. Too many haunting memories of Jared still lingered there. I officially resigned my position with Leroy, which didn't seem to bother him much. When I was leaving though, he said the last thing I would have ever expected.
He was going to miss me.
I plunged myself fully in my training at the School. I had nothing better to do, after all, but focus on the the ultimate prize. That twenty thousand would be mine. I think Anne was most surprised by my sudden interest in abiding by almost all of their rules. I did my best in school, and for four hours every day after, I was there, working my butt off. She seemed almost, dare I say it, proud?
Fang helped with my other expenses. For the first time in a long time I'd wake up and be able to have cereal that wasn't stale, and milk that wasn't spoiled; two weeks after its expiration date. I kept a strict log of all the money he spent, even if he did roll his eyes and tell me it was okay, that he would do whatever I needed for free. That was usually when I smacked him upside the head and he muttered something about Iggy being right, that I was in a state of non-stop PMSing . . . I punched Iggy the next time I saw him, too.
Time flew, in a mixture of the School and regular school. I went straight back and forth, rarely lingering elsewhere. I could tell it bothered Fang, my unwavering intensity, so after awhile I tried to lighten up. He didn't seem reassured, but he didn't saying anything either. I think he might have been afraid I was becoming too attached to the sport again, that I was beginning to love it as I had when I was younger. That time, however was brief, and I resented it all the same. As soon as Nationals were over, I would be done for good.
At one point, I was absolutely positive I had seen Jeb. I was working on my floor routine, trying desperately to get every move impeccably perfect as Lissa watched on snidely, though her jealousy was obvious as well. I was in the middle of my full when I caught a glimpse of him as I whirled through the air; watching from a few floors up. When I landed though, and whipped my head around to the place he had been, all I saw was empty space.
The day of Nationals came more quickly that I anticipated.
I was sure Jeb was somewhere in the cavernous room, cheering along with all the other proud parents, but in the thick crowds, I would have no way of knowing for sure. With my gym bag at my side and other jostling gymnasts all around me, I pushed the thought to the back of my mind, locking it away. I didn't have time to dwell on that; and so what if he was here? It didn't affect me.
I was alone for most of the proceedings after that. I was completely alienated from the rest of my team, them wanting to have nothing to do with me. My sentiments were the same, so I didn't bother trying to include myself. Instead I got my number as usual, stored my stuff where it all belonged, and then wandered until I was needed.
Chattering girls surrounded me, gushing at the sight of any male that came within their vision. I rolled my eyes, shoving my way through their ranks. Girls like them miffed me.
Since I still had some more time to myself I lingered around the tables piled high with merchandise, scanning the racks of leotards and other attire. I spent a few minutes at a stall laden with t-shirts, each reading a different joke about gymnastics. Most of them weren't that amusing, but being the sarcastic person that I am, I could see the appeal.
Eventually I moved on. I was poking around a clump of some more leotards, when I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Not a second later there were a pair of lips at my ear, murmuring; "That would look good on you."
I glanced up sharply, dropping the piece of cloth in my hand. I whirled, coming face to face with a smirking Fang. I immediately relaxed, throwing my arms around his neck. Over his shoulder I saw a pretty, smiling girl begin to frown, as she stopped in her movements towards Fang. She sighed, turning away resolutely, scanning the crowd for her next victim. Ew. I couldn't help but feel a bit smug, and I wasn't the only one.
"Miss me?" Fang whispered haughtily, as his arms wound around my waist. His hugging had really improved since the first time way back when Angel had been hit by that car. The thought made me smile and frown at the same time, if that was even possible.
I snorted at his words, keeping a firm grip on him.
When I finally pulled away he kept his arms loosely around me, his dark eyes glistening. He gave me a searching look as I tried for a semi-convincing smile.
"Nervous?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
I opened my mouth to say something along the lines of. 'of course not!'. The words were on the very tip of my tongue, but what came out was entirely different from that.
"Yes," I admitted, biting my lip.
"Well don't be," he said, pressing his lips to my forehead in comfort.
"It's just . . ." I began insistently, feeling the need to justify my actions. "I don't know. I'm supposed to be really strong and confident, right? I mean, I'm fricking Maximum for God's sake. I can take fully grown men in combat, but when I get here amongst all they frilly, spiteful teenage girls its like all my willpower just crumbles."
Fang nodded knowingly, like he knew exactly what I was feeling.
"All through training -heck- ever since I got the phone call from Anne, I've always been so sure of myself; like I couldn't fail. Now that I'm here though . . . I don't know if I can do it."
Fang was the only person in the world I would ever admit this to. He was the only one allowed to see me so vulnerable, so unsure of my capabilities.
"It's okay to feel that way," Fang assured me. "But it doesn't matter, because I know you can. Everyone at the School knows you can. Angel and Gazzy know you can . . . and deep down inside, you know you can, too."
Damn him.
"I should probably go. Events are about to start," I said sullenly.
"You'll be fine," he insisted, pressing his lips to mine briefly. Then he was gone, melding into the crowd of people hurrying to get last minute seats. I stood alone for a moment, my fingertips brushing my lips, where the ghost of his touch still lingered.
I was almost barrelled over by a woman rushing to get into the arena, which was enough to break me of my state. I followed along much slower, entering cautiously. I joined where the other gymnasts of the School stood, mumbling a quick 'hello' to the coach standing nearby. She nodded to me, scribbling something on the clipboard in her hand.
And then it started.
I was painfully aware of everything going on throughout the rest of the day. It surprised me how much I still remembered about the process. It had been so long since I competed, but I found myself remembering just what to do and say.
I didn't disappoint. I was in the top three for most of the events, stealing the show in all I did. My rebel edge was giving me the upper hand. Everybody wanted to know my story. I was the one to look out for, or at least according to the announcers I was. To the audience I was interesting, the one with a conflicted background, come out of a three year retirement and still going strong. Word spread that I had only trained for a few weeks. Reporters were constantly jumping on me every second I got to myself.
People wondered how I was so good, with so little preparation.
Before I knew it my day from Hell was coming to a close. Floor was the only event left, and then I could collect my medal and, more importantly, money; and be on my merry little way.
I was glugging down a bottle of water, waiting my turn, when I caught a glimpse of black hair. I looked over to see Fang, standing somewhere in the midst of people. I smiled to myself, swishing the last bit of liquid into my mouth before I tossed the empty bottle aside, making my way towards him. As I got closer I saw his lips moving, but I couldn't yet see who he was talking to. There was a profound smirk drawn on his face though, and he even laughed a bit. Odd.
I shoved by a few more people, finally getting a clear shot. There was a petite red-headed girl standing before him, her hand on his arm. Something she said caused a flicker of a smile to grace his lips, and she stepped even closer to him.
This wasn't the Fang I was used to. No, this was cool, calm, charismatic Fang. The one I witnessed at the dinner party held by his mother. The one who was impeccably polite and rarely acknowledged that I was present, as he was too consumed with playing the role of someone he was not.
This time it just happened to be with Lissa.
I gritted my teeth, my hands curling into tight fists. I tried to regulate my breathing, intent on keeping my patience. I couldn't ignore it though. Fang wasn't stupid. He knew when a girl was flirting with him, especially when Lissa was making it as obvious as the sun shining on a cloudless day. Yet he wasn't doing anything to deter her actions. In fact, he seemed to revel in her attention.
Before I could stop myself I was moving forward, an idea forming. So what if I was probably just being irrationally jealous? I wasn't blind, like Iggy. I could see plainly what was occurring before me.
I came to a stop just a few feet away from them. Neither seemed to notice.
"You know, Lissa," I began brightly, disguising my disgust. They both glanced over sharply, Fang's dark eyes completely emotionless. Lissa, quite frankly, didn't look so calm, "I think you were right. You two would make a great couple."
"Wha . . . What?" Lissa asked in faint surprise, her brain working slowly to process the situation at hand.
"Uhuh," I said sweetly. "You guys deserve each other."
"Max-" Fang began earnestly, but I shot him a cold look that had his mouth snapping shut. Before he could regain his composure I turned on my heel, dodging around people like they were a maze I was intent to escape. I could feel Fang hot on my trail, so I veered left sharply, hoping to shake him off. Instead I was met with a short, dim hallway that ended in a plain wall, with nowhere else to run.
I whirled, hoping to slip out again before he caught me. He was there though, his figure tall and menacing in the bright lights of the arena, offset with the darkness consuming the corridor.
"Excuse me, but I need to get back. It's almost time for me to be on." I tried to step around him, but he only mirrored my actions, forcing me to stop.
"Max, come on. Don't do this. I was just talking to her. Since when was that a crime?" he demanded, his voice firm and his gaze unwavering.
"Move," I ordered through clenched teeth, taking deep breaths so I wouldn't explode.
"No."
"Get. Out. Of. My. Way," I snarled, ready to pound his face in.
"Not until we solve this," he insisted.
"Look, Fang, I'm trying to concentrate! This is a big deal to me. I can't really focus when Lissa's throwing herself at you, and you're not doing anything to stop her!" I screamed, throwing my hands into the air. "Jeez, what is it with you and red-heads? First Brigid, and now her?"
"Actually, Brigid's a natural blonde. She died her hair," Fang smirked.
"You're insufferable."
"But you tolerate me anyway," he said, this time a real smile being pronounced.
"Not anymore."
That wiped his smug grin right of his face. His expression was suddenly and inexplicably serious, an intensity in his obsidian eyes taking over that captured me wholly, leaving me immobile.
"Not funny," he replied grimly, turning me so that my back was pressed against the wall.
"But true," I retorted, becoming breathless at his close proximity. His gaze leveled with mine as he brought his face even closer, so that when I blinked our eyelashes touched, brushing together.
"Is that what you really want?" he asked, his warm breath fanning out across my face. I couldn't help it then. My eyes fluttered shut, not opening again. I gulped, my breath hitching.
"Yes?" I said shakily, though it came out more like a question than a statement, the effect he had on me was so great.
"No," he insisted, his mouth covering mine before I could reply. His hands skimmed my sides, then up and over my shoulders, tracing the lines of my face. I gripped the front of his shirt tightly, my fingers going white. His hands finally landed in my hair, curling around the strands; my ponytail somehow coming loose.
I let my fingers untangle from the cloth of his shirt, sliding down to the worn hem. Without pausing or breaking contact with his lips I slid my hand over the smooth planes of his chest, making him shudder. My other hand eventually joined it, my fingers dancing on his bare skin. I raked my nails down his back, pressing him even closer to me.
After what seemed like forever we pulled apart, the lightheaded feeling becoming too much. Fang rested his forehead on mine, murmuring my name over and over again.
"I should get back," I begrudgingly admitted, frowning at the thought of this moment between us coming to an end. "I sort of have a gold medal to win."
He kissed me once more, lightly, before stepping back with a nod. I squeezed his hand one last time before making my way to the end of the hall, him trailing a few steps behind.
I stepped out into the light, and also my impending doom.
Authors Note: Like I said before, I'm sorry about the drastic change in direction with Jeb and then the competition. Not to mention the actual content of the competition, but I doubt many people want to read through long descriptions of that. I could hardly stand actually watching them when I went to my sisters' meets. I don't go anymore, because I find watching the same thing over and over again extremely boring. I thought I'd try to save you from that.
So, once again, I'm sorry that it's a bit rushed. Hopefully, it doesn't come off too much so. Also, REVIEW! You're running out of chances to, after all.
