Hey, I'm back. Okay, so I'm a little disappointed that I only received 6 reviews last chapter. I understand that the more chapters I post, the less people will read, but the norm for amount of review for each chapter is 13. That's a 7 review drop, (about a 54% drop.) I don't want to be one of those people who overly obsess about reviews, because I really could care less about them. I just want to make sure that you enjoy these chapters, or if not, give me some constructive criticism. I post these chapters not only because writing is my passion, but also because I want to get better.

So, I'll stop being all annoying and get on with the chapter. (If you hate FAX, than this is not the chapter for you.)

Max's POV

Chapter 20: Broken Stubbornness-

Last Time on Broken:

"Finally, my eyes focused, much like a camera lens. "Max, what the hell are you doing here?" I panicked. What if Anne had woken up, and Max had met her?

"Well, I remembered you saying how you had a crappy family, and, by the way you're mom is crashed on the couch, I don't find that very hard to believe. I guess you just need a friend to help you through this." She said.

"I thought you were pissed at me." I said, trying to be sarcastic, but ending up sounding genuine.

She scoffed, "Just because I'm pissed at you doesn't mean I hate you." She kissed the side of my cheek, friend-like, almost like how a mother would. She laid down next to me, her head softly sinking into my shoulder."

Three Hours Earlier:

I wish I could say I wasn't missing Fang, but I'd be lying. It was hard to live without chocolate chip cookies, or sleep; it was impossible to live without Fang. I kept trying to push him out of my thoughts, but every time I heard something that we'd usually joke about, I couldn't help but feel empty inside. It didn't help that Iggy was nagging that I should "rekindle my friendship."

Dylan continued to tell me how I shouldn't even think about Fang, but I knew the real reason why he didn't want me to be friends. I didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes in order to deduct that the two didn't like each other much. Granted, I couldn't blame Dylan for hating Fang; he did attack him. But, at the same time, I couldn't blame Fang for hating Dylan. Fang was being overprotective, yes, but also Fang was one of my best friends. He knew me as well as Iggy or Kayla did, and we had pretty much been inseparable for four months, every since we really became friends in November. It was natural to feel a bit of jealousy, especially since Dylan had been so cold to Fang.

I knew the real reason why I wouldn't approach: I was being stubborn. If I went up to Fang and decided to forgive him, than I would be weak, and that could not happen. Oh no, that would never happen. I'd never ever let that happen.

But Fang was being stubborn too. I couldn't just be the reason we hadn't talked for a week. And he had to be dying too. This couldn't just be a one-sided stubbornness. If he hadn't had this annoying sense of steadfast pride, (that sadly, I also have that same characteristic,) than we would be continuing on with this friendship.

If only I didn't have Iggy nagging in my ear about how I was ruining a terrible chance for a close friend, and that I was making him choose sides. He didn't have to choose a side. But at the same time, he sorta did have to, because he couldn't just hear both Fang and I screaming about each other constantly.

I couldn't be feeling pity for him. Not after everything he had said and everything he had done. No, it could not be possible, but why did I miss him?

Eventually, I grew even more angry at Fang. After all, how could he not be begging on his knees for my forgiveness. It was all his fault. Neither me or Dylan had anything to do with it. It was all him, which was most likely reason why when he walked past out table, I glared at him so hard that the surrounding universe most probably detonated.

Almost immediately, I felt terrible again. I don't know why I couldn't just get up off my ass and admit my forgiveness so we could be friends again. My feet started tensing up, and I feel myself start to stand up. But, I stopped, mostly because Dylan grasped my arm, shaking his head. This made me want to chase after him even more, but I resisted myself.

This couldn't be fair. It couldn't be fair for me just to keep enduring such terrible pain about not being friends with Fang when I didn't even do anything. He was the one who said all that crap about me and tackled Dylan. So why did I feel so bad about it?

"You are such a stubborn jackass, Max." Iggy sighed, "If you could just say that you forgive him, then we could all be friends, but noooo, you just have to win." Iggy had not stopped nagging me about this all week long. I continued to take in the derogatory comments. "I mean, seriously, can't we just drop all of this? Fang obviously didn't mean what he said. Can't you just drop it already?" I stayed quiet. "Why did you have to be so stubborn! God, just apologize, or let him apologize. OR JUST SOMEONE APOLOGIZE!" He shouted.

"Fine!" I shouted back. He fell quiet. "I'll talk to him, will you just shut up for a second." My head was reeling; Iggy's relentless rants normally gave me some head trauma, but today it seemed to be worse than ever. "Okay, I'll go and talk to him at lunch, just calm down."

Iggy sighed, "You can't really do that, now can you." I was confused, "Fang went home sick today." His phone

Rage filled inside of me. How could Iggy let Fang do that? Did Iggy even know about what a terrible mother Fang had? She wouldn't help him out, she'd probably just lay around, drunk or high. Anne wasn't a mother; sure, maybe she didn't hit him or kick him around like Jeb did to me, but she ignored Fang. She just sat around all day on her ass, getting wasted or getting high. That's just as bad.

But maybe Fang was just over-exaggerating. I mean, Iggy must know better than anyone else. Maybe Anne was actually nice, maybe got drunk every once and a while. Who was I to judge her, anyways? I had never actually meet her, just heard about her. Nothing good, but it wasn't like Fang had never lied before.

Iggy was still being an idiot. I was pretty sure Fang had some kind of test today; I think it was in Chem. His Chemistry grade is not doing so well; one more bad grade on a test and he may fail the class. And Iggy must've known that Anne isn't the best mother. Unless of course, Fang was lying or over-exaggerating. But I highly doubted that.

I ran off, but not before saying a simple "screw you" to Iggy. I rushed through the halls, letting the remains of the previous argument fall behind me. The reminder of harsh terms spoken between the two of us fled from my memory, as I dashed away from the school, into the parking lot where I got into my car.

I drove away from the horror called school down the road. Where was I even going? I didn't know where Fang lived. How was I going to even get to him? I kept driving, though. Better I go somewhere rather than nowhere at all. So I went to the only somewhere that I could find Fang. Or at least find out where to find him.

I went to Juliet's school.

Granted, there probably was no way that I'd actually be allowed to talk to her: schools had become over-protective lately because of a school shooting only twenty miles away from this town. I parked my car in the school parking lot, and began the venture into the old building. Inside there was not much to be seen. There was a very long hallway in which all of the classes were held. Grades K-5 would not switch classes; they would stay in the same room all day long. Their only glimpse of relief would be recess and lunch. I remember being in this very school in my elementary days. It was pure torture. Sitting in the same desk, day in and day out. The school is a screwed up system; a complete nut-job could tell you that.

At the end of the hallway, there was a sharp turn. This was where the middle school was. Unless it had changed in the three years that had passed since I was in eighth grade, there were about eight classrooms. Two math classes, one science lab, two English classes (one for the smarter kids, one for the others), one Spanish class, one history class, and a large library with multiple tables in the back for studying. I think it may even have a few computers.

On the left of the doors, there was a room covered in glass windows. On top of the clear door was a sign that said, "Office." I pulled open the door, and stepped inside.

"Can I help you?" the office secretary said in a monotonic tone.

"Yes, um I'm looking for Juliet Walker. I am a friend of hers. Can I please see her?" I asked, ever so politely.

She rolled her eyes, "Friends are not allowed to see students in school hours," she explained, "only family members or guardians can pull students out of class." She was young, but not that young. She was maybe in her late twenties or early thirties. It seemed like the girl had a permanent scowl screwed onto her face, because even when she looked back at her computer, doing God knows what, she still had that annoyed face on. All I could think about is that incessant popping that was coming from the gum she was chewing.

"Her brother's sick, so he asked me to get her." I said, continuing my polite tone.

"So." She said with another pop. "Her parents should be able to get her."

Now was when my temper was in full swing, so I did the only thing that I could. I lied, "Her dad died about six months ago. Her mom's out of town, a work vacation. She's on the plane back here. Her brother is really sick. He was diagnosed with cancer in his lung a year ago, and he's in emergency care right now. If I could just take her out for today. Please."

The secretary sighed, "Fine, I'll call Mrs. Page's class." She motioned me to some seats to the side of the room.

"Oh, and can you get out my sister too. Her name is Nu- Monique Batchelder." She sighed even deeper, before calling the other classroom.

Juliet was first to arrive. She bursted through the room, confused. "Max, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?" She was paranoid. I felt guilty, knowing she must be scared out of her mind.

"I'll explain in a minute, we're just waiting on my sister." I soothed, calming her down. She sat next to me, shivering. I placed my arm around her and tried to keep her warm.

Nudge came in about three minutes later. "Max, what happened?" Her tone was deadly. She must've been thinking on the worst case scenario right now. I motioned outside, and the three of us left the office.

We left the building and walked toward the parking lot. "Sorry for being so secretive. Since I'm not of blood relations or am a guardian of Juliet, I had to make up a little lie. I told the secretary that your brother was sick with cancer and he was on his deathbed. I'm sorry for lying. It was the only way to get you out of there. Your brother really is sick though. And I'm guessing it's really bad. In a state of obvious delusion, he decided to go home, even though he knows that Anne will most probably harass him. He was your ride home today, so I decided to go ahead and take you home. Besides, I need to talk to Fang."

"What did Fang tell you about Anne?" Juliet asked paranoid.

"Just that she is always either drunk or high, and that she isn't the most caring person in the world. Jeb's like that with us. He's never there for us, and I'm guessing Anne isn't either for you guys. I thought that he might need some help."

"Fang." I said in a soft voice. I pushed back Fang's messy hair. He was in a cold sweat, and looked absolutely miserable. It wasn't hard to get in. After I finally found the place, thanks to my terrible sense of direction, it wasn't hard to get inside. The door was unlocked and a woman, who I assumed was Anne, was passed out in their living room. It was a beautiful first impression. "Hi Fang." I said in a soothing voice, continuing to lace my fingers through his tangly hair. "Iggy told me that you were sick, so I came rushing over. I took the liberty of picking up Juliet for you."

Finally, his eyes fixated on mine. "Max, what the hell are you doing here?" He panicked. What was wrong with him? Why was he so worried?

"Well, I remembered you saying how you had a crappy family, and, by the way you're mom is crashed on the couch, I don't find that very hard to believe. I guess you just need a friend to help you through this." I said trying to explain myself. What was I even doing here? I literally broke into the house, just to end up freaking out Fang. Good job, Max.

"I thought you were pissed at me." He said. He was trying to be sarcastic, but he didn't have enough energy to.

I scoffed, "Just because I'm pissed at you doesn't mean I hate you." Subconsciously, I kissed the side of his cheek. It didn't mean anything. It wasn't like a romantic kind of kiss on the cheek. It was only because he was really sick, I was giving him my comfort. Nothing more. I laid down next to him, my head softly sinking into his shoulder.

Hey, sorry for it being so long. I'd write a long A/N, but I have a ginormous fever and it's already 11:21 and I'm really tired, so I'm going to try to go to sleep again without puking.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Years!

Q. What's you're new year's resolution?

~Maximum Reading