A/N: YES! NANOWRIMO IS FINISHED! HOORAY! NOW I CAN GO BACK TO TYPING MY FANFICS!

Chapter 17

Fang POV

I'm no hobo. I admit, I'm not the cleanest person in the world. Then again, I'm a teenage guy. It's in our genes to be filthy and dirty. No matter how many people tell us to clean up our socks, jeans, underwear, t-shirts, and other clothes, we'll always ignore them and continue on to live as Neanderthals.

And maybe that is the reason why Max suddenly stormes in my dorm room without my permission. Or not. It may be some other reason, and of course, I will never know the truth.

"FANG! How dare you!" She points at me with her finger. Her face is red from anger. Inference: She's mad about something I did. Don't know what.

"I dare what?" I ask confusingly. I'm in the middle of folding my socks here! Yeah, I know. Shocker.

She throws her hands up in the air. "Of course you act all innocent. That's how it all starts!"

I drop my socks and walk to her. "How what starts?"

She glares at me and says nothing. I look at her wide-eyed. Can I at least get some hints as to what ever made you mad and I'm guessing I did it?

"What? I'm innocent!" I demand.

She continue to glare. OK, if she doesn't tell me what I did to make her like this, I will toss her out of this room. It doesn't matter that I'm so tempeted to kiss her right now. With her lips pouted like that, they're about to make me delirious.

And so her glare softens to a stare. "You mean you don't know?" No, duh?

"Yes." I feel like saying "Hallelujah!"

She blushes and turns toward the door. "Oh. Never mind then." She starts to shuffle out of the open door. I grab her wrist and pull her inside.

"Wait. Why were you being the accuser?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" She hides her face behind her hair.

I arch a brow and look down at her hidden face. She's hiding something. "Max. . ."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" She pulls on her wrist, but I tighten my hold.

"Max. . ." I say threateningly.

"Let. Me. Go." Max mimics the tone of my voice.

"No. Tell me first." She pulls harder. "Max. . ."

She snaps her head up. "I already told you it was nothing!"

"Don't make me kiss you." Only Max can see a kiss as a threat. She's weird like that.

"I will still tell you it was nothing."

Ooh. She's giving the hints. Clearly she wants me to kiss her. I grin widely at her. She looks at me like I'm an idiot. Well, I feel like one whenever I'm with her. My hold around her wrist loosens, and my fingers twine with hers. I pull her closer. She looks shocked that one of her hands rest on my chest. Right where my heart is beating so hard, so fast, and so loud that I'm pretty sure she can hear my heart beating.

I lean down and closer to her. I can hear her short and rapid breathing. Ooh, I have some effect on her. I give her a satisfied smile.

I osculate her. (Don't know the word? Look it up.) The osculation is not rated triped H (hot and heavy and hungry), nor is it rated triple S (slow and sexy and sensual). It's more like rated I-like-you-so-much-that-I-want-to-kiss-you.

Last time I really kissed Max was during Thanksgiving. I knew she wanted to kiss me, so I did. We ended up on the floor, craving for each other's touch. Best Thanksgiving of my life.

Now I'm pulling away. I look over Max's head and see Iggy smirking. I glare at him and give him a telepathic message: I am going to beat you up after Max leaves.

I say my goodbye to Max and practically push her out of the door. I don't even care that I didn't get the reason why she was here.

"Sit," I command to Iggy, pointing at my computer chair. He obeys like a dog that just graduated from obedience cool. Iggy continues to smirk. "Quit smirking."

"I can't. It's quite interesting, really."

For Iggy, the word "interesting" means weird and disgusting and totally amusing.

Searching through all the dorm rooms in Larenston is certainly not interesting. After all who wants to go through all the disgusting filth just to look for "inappropriate stuff"? OK, OK. I know I don't have the right to diss the students. But still.

"It's all about experience, Fang. All experience is good," he says, as he drags me out of the room.

And I answer, "We do this every year. What's so good about it?"

He goes, "Fang. All you ever did was stand outside the door and wait for us to lug out the big trash bags full of 'inappropriate stuff'. So of course, you weren't able to experience the thrill."

"Well, I don't want to. And I'm not starting now."

Iggy pushes me to the end of the hallway. "Just do it, you big wimp. You'll love the experience, I tell you."

(Insert me whistling here.) When Iggy says something's good, it's all-the-way good. Like the time he bought Inception in DVD. Though in the end, Iggy wasn't able to understand the whole concept of people invading someone's dream.

I follow Iggy's instructions. I'm to carry a big trash bag with me, knock on a dorm room, demand entry, command that the students stay outside, close and lock the door, and begin turning the whole room over. Basically, search every inch of the room - even in the tightest crooks - where students might be hiding drugs, deadly weapons, and adult pictures or magazines. In short, look for "inappropriate stuff." Really specific, I know.

I didn't know - Truly I didn't because I've always been so oblivious with my surroundings - how those snooty kids are able to sneak in these "inappropriate stuff." Larenston has a top, high-quality security. Then again, they're loaded guys.

See, in every dorm building, the students are hiding basically the same thing.

Seventh grade dorm building: game consoles. Larenston does not allow game consoles because they rot the brains of the pure-minded twelve year olds.

Eighth grade dorm building: posters. Larenston does not allow posters because they violate the cleanliness of the walls of the dorm rooms.

Freshman dorm building: pictures of Hollywood actresses (i.e. Miley Cyrus, Britney Spears, Rihanna, etc.). Larenston does not allow pictures of celebrities because they result to unwanted interactions (fights) between students.

Sophomore dorm building: Swiss army knives. Larenston prohibits the use or even the possession of army knives in such a way that they might result to unwanted fates (death).

Junior dorm building: pictures of half-naked girls, specifically their exes. Larenston prohibits adult pictures because they might leak out of school and might cause the girls unwanted attention (paparazzis).

Senior dorm building: adult magazines. Larenston students who have adult magazines in their possession might face a certain adjournment. These magazines might also leak out and younger students might get influenced and violated.

Just so you know, I do not own any of the above. And I did not look at any of the pictures or any magazines. Though it was very tempting.

Max is online at nine-forty-seven PM. I send her an IM.

f-wall: sup?

maxride: bored. u?

f-wall: went searching.

maxride: in dorm rooms?

f-wall: no duh.

maxride: :) just asking. was it fun?

f-wall: u have no idea.

maxride: is this lyk a guy thing im not supposed to understand?

f-wall: yes.

maxride: oh. i think i have an idea.

f-wall: dont ever mention it. agenda tomorrow?

maxride: y?

f-wall: im asking u out and u ask why?

maxride: r u really?

f-wall: i shouldnt have said it if i wasnt.

maxride: im free.

f-wall: cool.

maxride: wat r we doing?

f-wall: you'll see.

maxride: i hate you.

f-wall: hey, the feeling's mutual.

A/N: I'm thinking of writing a story about Dylan. Would any of you guys would be interested in reading it, if hypothetically I publish one? Oh and, RnR?