Blind Wing,

Hey Guys! Oh my gosh, I'm SOOO sorry for the delay! It's just that I had major writers block and I felt that this story was kinda crappy so I abandoned it. SORRY. :( I'm workin on it though!

I don't own any of the MR characters.

Max's POV

The babble of the International Day fair was going on all around. I had already seen Nudge and Angel in the crowd, and was on the lookout for Gazzy. Knowing him, he would pull some sort of stupid prank that would get us all in trouble. Sighing, I ran the power-point I had cobbled together on India again. As a recording of my voice talked, I pointed at the various signs on the poster board. I winced every time the bangles around my wrists jingled. The dress Teja had loaned me was indeed a blue and silver piece. Unfortunately, it also showed a decent portion of my stomach, causing several of the boys who, unfortunately, were now my personal groupies/stalkers to gather around my booth, completely ignoring their own. One even asked if this was the kissing booth! Let me tell you, he got a major knuckle sandwich for that one. After that, my own personal fan club hastily dispersed.

I saw Fang a few booths over, playing the Greek national anthem on his rented guitar. He was getting pretty good, actually.

Iggy was close by him, looking awkward in a rented military uniform. My eyes narrowed as the Gasman emerged from the crowd next to Iggy, and started whispering and grinning. If they set off another bomb… But then Ig did something weird. He shoved Gazzy slightly and said something, blushing. He was embarrassed? About what?

Iggy has a personal life too Max. said my Voice. You can't always be the mother. I scowled. Why was I the one stuck with this annoying little… thing in my head?

Bug off, I growled mentally. I can't be Ig's mom, yeah, but I am his sister for all intensive purposes. I heard the Voice sigh with defeat.

You will embarrass him – and yourself – further if you inquire into this. It said.

Too bad, I growled, and stormed off to Iggy's booth.

"Naw, she just says that you probably look kinda funny in that uniform. She bets that tan doesn't suit you at all." I heard Gazzy chuckle. She? Iggy is getting messages from a she? Wow… who

knew?

"Yeah, well she probably doesn't look exactly normal herself! Probably more like a heap of black sheets than anythin'…" I approached the gleeful younger of the two and asked,

"Okay, you have two seconds to tell me what the hell is going on." Gazzy turned, his eyes radiating mischief.

"Oh, Iggy's just flir-"

"Can it!" snapped Iggy, "I'm not flirting and she's NOT my girlfriend, as I've told you millions of times before!" The angry communist of the party stormed off into the crowd. Oops. Bad move… Gazzy went into hysterics.

"Man, I wish we had caught that on tape! Aw, that was hilarious…" he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

"It wasn't that funny, Gaz," I said. "Who is this 'she' you two were babbling about?" The Gasman grinned.

"Oh, only Ig's not-really-kinda-sorta-yeah girlfriend." I raised an eyebrow.

"The one that looks like a heap of cloth?" He nodded.

"The one in the Arab booth," I nodded and headed over there, to check that she wasn't a spy/Eraser. I know they were all wiped out, but it never hurts to check.

The girl in the booth did indeed look rather like a shapeless mass of black fabric. I paused and inspected the information on display, then looked at the things arranged on the table. Little things, like models of instruments and such, but it really showed how much this kid put into her projects.

"Sabah el Nouur," She said brightly. "Keefak?" I stared at her blankly.

"No comprende." I said bluntly.

"No, no," She laughed. "That means 'good morning, how are you?' in Arabic." She paused a moment before adding, "Though, seeing as you're a girl, it should really be Keefek, cuz of the feminine pronoun." I raised my eyebrows at this.

"Well, someone's done her research," The fabric around her face moved slightly into what I thought was a smile.

"Would you like to try the Arab dishes?" She asked. I eyed the strange collection of food warily.

"No thanks. I actually came to ask you about my brother, Jeff." The girl's eyes – the only thing I could see behind the Abya – brightened.

"Yeah, Jeff. He's in all my classes. Shoot."

I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. I hadn't actually got a question.

"Well," I stammered. "Er… uh. Are you two dating?" I asked. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I felt like whacking myself on the head.

The eyes narrowed.

"No. Why?" Ah. Why didn't I listen to the Voice more often?

"Er… It's just… um…"

"All high-School students report to your booths. All high-school students, at your booths please!" Yes! Judging time. Saved by the bell.

"See ya," I muttered, dashing through the crowd to my booth.

"Alright, who had the guts to tape a chick magazine to the front of my booth?!?" I said, glaring at the surrounding boys. They put their tails between their legs and ran for it. Grumbling, I snatched the magazine down and threw it in a nearby trashcan. Stupid boys.

You may proceed with your life now.