I'm ill. : (

No fun.

I don't think I've ever sneezed so much in my life…

"They need new clothes."

I looked up from the calculator and glared at Fang. "Shut up."

"Max," he sighed. "Come on. Everyone has, like, three pairs of jeans and three shirts."

"Do we need more than that?"

"If we want to be clean, we do." He stood up and walked over to me. We were on our break, but instead of arguing with Iggy about getting a job, Fang was trying to convince me to at least take some of my mom's money. Personally, I felt that if we had shelter, transportation, and food, we were fine. But for some reason, Fang insisted that the normal life thing included more than three outfits. "Listen. Your mom is more than willing to give us money. Why aren't we taking it? We agreed to try out this normal life thing. Normal kids don't have to wear the same outfit every other day."

"Every third day," I snapped, but he was right. This wasn't normal. I mean, it was the most normal lifestyle we'd ever experienced, but most people wouldn't consider it normal. Most people also probably didn't have pride to protect.

"It's okay to admit you need help," Fang said softly, brushing my hair off my shoulder. I glared at the calculator still in my hand, which featured a negative number-- how much money we'd have if we used our grocery store earnings to buy the amount of clothes Fang said the eight of us should have.

"I can take care of the flock," I told him determinedly, pocketing the calculator and that negative number. "I always have before."

"That was when we were on the run," he continued, gently, as if knowing he was one step away from making me explode. "You needed to make sure we all survived. And you were brilliant at that, Max. But, you know, normal people survive with money, not by kicking bad guy butt. That's just the way it works."

I sighed and rested my forehead against his shoulder, leaning into him. He raised his hand to stroke my hair, using the other to rub the small of my back. "I just want to do it myself," I told him, my voice muffled by his green smock.

"I know." Fang pressed his lips against the top of my head. "But you were like this when I realized I loved you, remember? I kissed you and you ran, because you were just so used to being independent. You eventually accepted me, though, and everything worked out. Right?"

I nodded into his shirt but didn't look up.

"So this will, too."

"It's embarrassing," I muttered, "not to be able to take care of my family."

"But you are taking care of your family," he said soothingly, kissing my head again. "You're still a mother-- to the twins and to the flock-- and the leader. They understand that you're doing everything you can. No one will think any less of you if you take that money."

I sighed and stood up, his arms slipping from their place around me. "Fine. We'll take some money and buy everyone some nice clothes. But that's all I'm doing for now."

"That's fine," Fang said, a half-smile appearing on his face.

"I mean it."

"I know you do."

Marie suddenly appeared in the doorway behind him, and I glanced at the clock, only to find that we still had ten minutes of our break left.

"What--" I began, but I stopped at the look on her face.

"You have a phone call," she said flatly, then turned on her heel and left.

Fang and I exchanged a look, and I wondered who the heck would be calling me. "I'll be right back," I told him, and then hurried after Marie.

The phone was laying speaker-up on the counter when I got there. I dodged a screaming little kid to lean over and pick it up. "Hello?"

"Would this be Ms. Ride?"

"Yes," I said slowly, wondering why this voice sounded so familiar. "Who is this?"

"Dr. Clement, the principal at Desert Elementary."

Just like the first time he'd called, my heart leapt into my throat, my mind raced, thinking something had happened to one of the kids. Then I remembered why he'd called the first time: Devin's behavior. "Oh, hi, Dr. Clement. Did Devin punch someone again?" I asked, half-joking.

The reply had no trace of humor in it. "Yes, actually, he did. And this time, it was the student teacher."

I slapped my forehead. Devin, I growled in my head. "I'm so sorry about that. Do you need me to come for another meeting?"

Dr. Clement sighed. "Not at this point. The only reason I had you come the first time was because the incident occurred so soon after school started, and we wanted to know if this was an issue at home. I'm dealing with his punishment here at school, but I'd appreciate it if you could enforce it at home."

"Yes, of course," I said through clenched teeth, not liking the sound of someone I didn't even know telling me how to raise my kid. "Well, have a good day, Dr. Clement."

"You too, Ms. Ride. B--"

I didn't even hear the last word, instead putting the phone back on the rocker, hard. Marie glanced up at me, but I didn't even acknowledge her as I headed back over to Fang, who was now standing only a few feet away.

"What was that about?" he asked as I leaned on the wall beside him.

"Devin hit the student teacher," I sighed.

His eyebrows shot up, and he stood up a little straighter. "He hit her?"

"Yes! A teacher! What kind of control do we have over our kid if he's hitting the person in charge?"

"You know," Fang began in a teasing tone, "you used to hit the person in charge."

I lifted my chin and said melodramatically, "Well, I'm a changed woman."

We looked at each other for a second, and then we both burst out laughing, failing so miserably to stand upright that we had to stumble into each other's arms.

0000000000

We waited until after bath time. And then we dealt with Devin.

After the twins had put on their pajamas, I handed Gracie her hairbrush and told her to go have Nudge brush her hair. Then Fang and I went into the twins' bedroom, where Devin was sitting on the bed with one of his favorite storybooks in his lap.

"Hey, buddy," I called softly.

He looked up, then smiled. "Hi, Mommy, hi, Daddy."

"How was school?" Fang asked mildly, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. I went further into the room and raised my eyebrows at Devin, daring him to lie to us. That was how we enforced discipline: Fang eased it out of them, I made sure we were getting the full story.

"Fine," Devin said, but hid his face, looking down at the book.

"Anything interesting happen? How's that student teacher?" Fang pressed.

Devin hesitated, but scowled. Then he looked up and said, "She's really mean."

Fang and I exchanged a glance: bingo.

"How is she mean?" Fang pushed off the frame and crossed the room to sit down beside Devin. I sat on our son's other side and gently took the book out of his hands.

"She, well, she told me to share the dinosaur, and then she took it from me. But I wanted it, so I tried to take it and she hit me!"

"She hit you?" I asked angrily, momentarily forgetting why we were discussing this in the first place. Over his head, Fang shot me a look, and I quickly added, "What did you do?"

"Hit her back," Devin said in a 'duh' tone that normally would have made me laugh.

"What did we tell you about hitting?" Fang said sternly.

"But she hit me first!" he protested.

"I doubt she did."

I stood up and motioned to Fang. He stood up and followed me, and I turned back at the door. "Be right back, Dev."

Once in the hallway with the door shut, I crossed my arms and said, "I'm not punishing him for defending himself."

"He's exaggerating, Max," Fang said. "She probably just nudged him a little to make him give it to her, and he's using that to wiggle out of trouble."

"Whenever we've seen him and Gracie hit each other, what he tells us is exactly what we saw," I said. "I think we need to check out this lady."

"Max, she's a teacher. A student teacher. Abusing a kid would lead to her never getting a real teaching job."

"I don't think he's safe there!"

"I think you're being paranoid!" Fang sighed in exasperation and drew me forward, holding me in front of him with one arm around my shoulders. "Listen. Three years ago, everything was a threat. Not anymore. We are completely safe, Max. So safe that what we need to think about now is how to get Devin in line. Okay?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but he was looking at me so intently that I realized it would be useless. So instead I just shrugged my shoulders and said, "Okay. Fine. We'll let him know this isn't okay."

The bad feeling in the pit of my stomach stayed, though.

Dun dun dun.

Who do you think is right? Fang? Max? No one? Let me know… in a review! : D