"Pizza," I cooed, biting into yet another slice of pure heaven. Ella nodded emphatically, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin that had come with the food.
"How many slices have you had?" She asked. There was one left.
"Sheven," I replied, my mouth full. Ella made a face.
"Ew, Max, don't do that. How do you eat so fast?" Without waiting for a reply, she snagged the last slice and declared, "Anyway, I get the last one. I've only had two."
"S'not my fault you're a slow eater," I said, eyeing the slice in her hand. There was no way she was getting away with this.
"It's hard to swallow when your sister is eating like a ballerina on a binge."
"And how would you know about that, Elly?" I questioned sweetly. Ella had been a dancer for…what was it now? She was fourteen now, so…nine years? She had started when she was five, so that made sense. Ooh, killin' em, Max. Those math skills leave nothing to be desired.
Anyway.
Ella ignored my question, instead asking one of her own. "So, who was that little girl you were talking to outside?" I must have looked confused, because she added quickly, "I was watching from the upstairs window."
"Um, I think her name was Corliss. Corliss…Everheart?" I couldn't be bothered with details; Ella may have been on a quest to figure out who it was that I was talking to, but I had a mission of my own. Thou shalt not eat thy slice, for it is myne.
"Max, I highly doubt anyone has the last name Everheart. C'mon, think. I need to know this stuff." A-ha. So Ella was on her latest babysitting conquest.
"Ells, if you're looking for a client, you're not gonna find one. She goes to Truman."
"Dangit," She said, putting her pizza down on the floor (we hadn't unpacked our plates yet… or anything, for that matter), where I snatched it up almost before it had left her hand. Five-second rule, you know. "Hey, you tricked me!" She wailed. I smirked at her.
"Believe what you wanna believe, sister dearest," I said, taking a bite. "I took what was rightfully mine. This is the result you get when you go up against the incredible, incomparable Maximum Ride."
"More like Maximum Rude."
Pause.
"That was a good comeback," I admitted.
"I know," Ella grinned at me. Just then, Mom came in, drying her hands on a paper towel.
"Girls, are you almost done? You should get to bed soon. You have a big day tomorrow."
Ella cheered; I sulked. We dumped the empty pizza box into the recycling bin and headed upstairs, Ella telling me all about tomorrow's outfit (hers, not mine) and how she hoped she would fit in. I secretly agreed with her; standing out on purpose had never appealed to me.
It was a warm night, something I was used to, but it was a different kind of warm. It wasn't dry; the air was humid like it was left over from summer, though it was November. I listened to the sound of Ella and Mom talking as Ella brushed her teeth down the hall, my eyes open and straining against the darkness that was my room. I clicked a button on my phone, and the screen blinked to life. 9:02 pm, the screen read. I groaned and set the phone down on the floor next to where I lay and punched my pillow a few times, but not because it wasn't comfortable. I sighed, trying to will myself to sleep. What felt like a half hour later found me switching my phone on again. 9:07 pm.
This was going to be a long night.
And tomorrow, I thought as I began to drift off, an even longer day.