Round two! hope you like it!

One:

"Well, honey this is perfect." My mom says after reading the sheet.

I snatch it from her. Perfect, she says. What's so damn perfect about this? It's a nightmare!

"Mom, it's not perfect! It's horrible."

"And what's so horrible about it?" she asks.

I wave the sheet in the air in rage, the sheet slashing the air like a sword. Okay, I was exaggerated just a little bit… but still, it's freaking camping.

"Mom, I don't want to spend a week in the middle of nowhere with a group of idiots! We can't even have our ipods or any eclectic device at all. What's so perfect about that?"

My mom lifts one finger in the air. "Well, for one you finish high school in three weeks, two weeks if you go on this camping trip. Two, it could be a lot of fun. And three, you might meet new friends."

I roll my eyes. My mom has this crazy notion that I need friends. Or a friend. Friends make the world go 'round and 'round I suppose. Friends are the air you breathe.

I glare at her and start pacing around the kitchen. "I had a friend, if you'd remember correctly." I grumble, quickly turning my back to my wacky mother, masking the hurt that was clear on my face. After all these years it still hurts. "I don't need a friend."

"Oh Max, I'm sorry."

I breath deeply, vanishing the hurt on my face. I turn to lean against the counter. "Save it. We both know that was the best choice. Why should I find another friend if the outcome will be the same?"

"Because you're more mature now. You have more of a handle on things now." she says.

"Riiiight. More of a handle on things." I say sourly, pointy looking at the sheet. I did slap Lissa earlier today. But sure I totally have a handle on things. Uh-huh mother.

She sighs. "You know what I mean Max. I think it's safe if you have friends again. I doubt you'll blow your secret at the age of seventeen."

Ah, my secret.

We all have our secrets, but mine's totally out there in a different universe. It sure as hell isn't an ordinary secret you'd hear everyday. A normal secret: I have a crush on my teacher. Normal: I have a Mickey Mouse blanket even at the age of seventeen. Normal: I still suck my thumb as a college student. Hell, my secret was even worse then having an extra toe or an extra nipple.

My secret: I have a pair of wings. I can fly.

There not strap on wings you would buy at a custom store either. I can't just freely un-strap them, dismissing them easily. No, there attach to me for life.

Lucky me.

Clearly, I had to hide them from sight, sheltering that part of me from the world to see. And it was hard.

I had one friend.

Joy.

We were best friends, attached to the hip since that moment at the sand box in elementary school. It's funny really. Apple juice gained me an enemy, but it also gained me a great friend.

Apple juice.

"Why are you crying?" I ask the girl with the lopsided pigtails.

Her water filled green eyes looks up at me, then she points at the juice box buried in the sand of the sandbox.

"I dropped my apple juice." she says sadly.

I examine the juice box that's mummified by the tan sand, switching my eyes to my apple juice that was half full.

"Here." I say thrusting it into her hands. "Have mine."

"Really?" she asks.

I pause thoughtfully. Was I crazy!? Sniffed too many crayons during art time or something? This was apple juice … apple juice was un-sharable. I switch my eyes to her face again.

"I must really like you." I say letting go of the juice box. "You're lucky. I don't like anyone."

She slurps the drink loudly and happily. "I like you too! Wanna be best friends?"

"Will you bring me apple juice tomorrow?" I ask.

She nods. "I'll have my mom pack us some, and maybe some cookies too!"

I smile. "Best friends it is then."

We shook on it.

Best handshake ever.

The friendship fell apart just before high school. My secret always loomed over my head, threatening what we had. Countless times she'd almost found out. After a while, I knew I had to put a stop to it. So I did.

Broken friendship aside. On to the how and why of my wings.

I've had these babies since I was born.

Long story short. My dad's a lunatic scientist. My mother fell hard for the broken scientist act. Shortly I happened.

I was my dad's experiment. And he treated me like one. That put a dent in my moms love, so, she did the heroic thing; took me and ran. We never looked back. However, as of late, he's kept in touch -

"Speaking of… your dad called again."

See.

Frankly, it was wigging my out. It would be best for all of us if he would understand I don't want anything to do with him. It would be best if he would just go poof and disappear for good. I know that's a horrible thing to say about your dad, but this was my dad.

I rub my temples trying to sooth my headache with cool fingertips.

"This day just keeps getting worse and worse. What did he want?"

My mom shrugs. "Just checking in I suppose. Asking how you were doing, how school was." My mom pauses. "and … hewantsadaywithyou."

The words were depressed into one another, but I heard each word. "No way in hell." I say flatly.

"That's what I said. But he was pushy. Something's off with him."

Something clicks. "Is that why you want me to go so badly? To get away from home incase he shows up?"

Her face was stone but her eyes shown the truth; I was dead on.

I cross my arms and sigh. "Alright. Fine."

But I wasn't happy about this.

My mom nods. "I think it would be best. I'm good Max. Real good." She taps her head with a finger. "I can read people."

'She can read people' isn't meant to sound like some crazy fortune teller aspect that will have you running toward the hills in disbelief. My mother has the power to see through anyone's truths or bullshits is what she means. Her mind was just that good. And her IQ was through the roofs. Since I could remember she's always skillfully put together puzzles of 500 in less then half and hour, knew something on my homework without studying it herself first, and a bunch of other crazy shit. She was my dads perfect match because know one could keep up with him, but her.

"And I can always be a step ahead of them. But your father's always been different. He was always on a whole different level. I never know what his next step is. Or what's going through that head of his. And I'll admit it, it's what I loved about him. He was this puzzle I couldn't figure out. But now I'm scared of that fact instead of fascinated, so I need you to go on this camping trip for the week."

I nod, accepting the fact that it was safer, but what about her? I'm going to be safe, but will she?

"What about you? Are you going to be okay?" I ask worried.

Slightly, she smiles. "I'm going to be perfectly okay. Its you I'm worried about."

I look down, dropping my arms. "Because I have the wings." I say bitter, my hands balled at my side.

"Yes."

And there we go.

My wings once again decides where my life should head to next.