Chapter One
Max awoke one morning after dreaming the same dream she'd been having for around six months. Her frail body was drenched in a cold sweat. She kicked off her covers, swinging her legs over the side of her twin bed as she did so. Her hair, now elbow-length, swung out in front of her, sweat dripping off the ends. The dream was becoming harder and harder to bear. Each time she watched that scene unfold before her, watched that heartbreak all over again, it got worse. It scared her sometimes, so much so that she was afraid to go to sleep for fear of watching her best friend leave her again. It was unbearable.
She gave up on sleep and made her way to the kitchen to start breakfast. Her cooking skills weren't near as atrocious as they were a few years prior. She managed to master the breakfast foods without making anything crunch that wasn't supposed to. The sun streamed in through the kitchen window, disarrayed from the light fog hanging outside the house. Grabbing pans and ingredients as she moved around the kitchen, Max had breakfast started in a matter of seconds.
Within minutes, the house was filled with the smell of crunchy bacon and scrambled eggs. The Flock would be awake soon. Bacon and eggs was their favorite breakfast, no matter who cooked it. Just the smell of the food brought most of them out of their slumber.
The first up was Iggy. He trudged in the kitchen rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands, his sweats dragging on the ground. He'd grown about a foot in the past four years and Max, at her tallest, was no taller than his shoulder. Iggy sat down at the kitchen table and sighed heavily.
"You know," Max mused. "You could just wait until breakfast is actually on the table before you get up and complain the rest of the day how you didn't get enough sleep. I am a big girl. I don't need you to watch, well listen, to everything I do."
"You don't," he retorted, scowling playfully at her remark to his disability. "But the stove might need some distinguishing one of these days. Would you rather have me complain about being tired or have the house burnt down?"
"Hm," Max teased, flipping over the bacon with ease.
"Ha, ha."
"Instead of sitting there and treating me like a five year old, why don't you go and wake up the rest of the flock?"
Iggy threw a balled up piece of paper at her head before getting up to wake the others. Max chuckled lightly when she heard the moans and groans of tired flock members. Angel flew into the kitchen, sliding across the tile on her socks and slammed into Max's side. She squeezed Max tightly before releasing her to take her place at the table.
"Morning Angel," Max set a plate down in front of her full of bacon and eggs. "How'd you sleep?"
"Good," Angel answered through a mouthful of eggs.
Max rolled her eyes when Nudge huffed in, angry because Iggy once again pulled her out of bed to wake her up. She crossed her arms and sat at the table next to Angel.
"How rude!" she complained. "I'm always nice when I wake him up, but no he has to grab me by the ankle and toss me to the ground like a sack of rotten eggs!"
"You might not like breakfast then."
"Why?"
Max grinned and handed Nudge a plate full of just eggs due to the fact that Nudge was a vegetarian. Nudge made a face but took the plate and dug in.
"Hey!" Gazzy ran into the kitchen. "No one waited for me?"
"There's plenty of food, Gazzy," Max informed him, scooping up an extra serving of eggs. "Where's Iggy?"
"Rae called."
Max knew that it could be a while before they were off the phone, so she turned off the stove, grabbed herself a plate and took her place next to Gazzy. She never glanced at the empty place to her right. It was a reminder that they only needed a table for five, not six, and she didn't feel like dealing with the nausea and pain.
For some reason, the urge to look at the empty gray chair was stronger than other times she ate at that table. She couldn't help but stare and picture Fang sitting right next to her, their knees touching under the table, their fingers entwined.
She shook her head absentmindedly to rid herself of the thoughts and swallowed a bite of eggs to chase away the lump that was growing in her throat. Iggy basically skipped into the kitchen and into his chair. He had a bright smile on his face as he ate his breakfast.
"I assume Rae is one her way here," Nudge guessed, rolling her eyes.
"She wants the six of us to go to the park today and maybe a movie later."
"Just eat it!" Gazzy huffed, ignoring a glowing Iggy who didn't seem to care at all.
"Ew no!" Nudge cringed away from the bacon in Gazzy's outstretched hand. "I told you I don't eat meat!"
"Since when?" Gazzy asked, only half serious.
"Ever since Fang ate that disgusting rat when we were trying to rescue Angel at the lake. Ow!" Nudge rubbed her leg where Angel had kicked her under the table.
Max sighed, ignoring the pain in her chest. "Angel, don't kick Nudge."
"I'm sorry." Nudge hung her head and moved her food around on her plate.
Max reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "Don't worry about it. Now eat before it gets cold! I put my sweat and blood into this food!"
Everyone cringed back and pushed their plates away.
"I was kidding!" Max gaped at them.
"You never know…" Angel said, eyeing her food.
"That was once," Max reminded them. "And Iggy should have showed me how to chop those onions instead of just handing me the knife."
"I kept wondering why my onions tasted like metal," Gazzy said, fighting a grin.
Max smacked him upside the head, causing everyone to break into a fit of giggles. She rolled her eyes and tossed her plate in the sink.
"Since you think you're so funny," she ruffled Gazzy's hair. "You're on clean up duty. I'm going to get a shower and I suggest the rest of you do the same before Rae gets here."
With that said, she walked quickly to her room, afraid she wasn't able to hold it in anymore. Once the door was shut, she took a few deep, shaky breaths. She leaned against her door and tried to stop the panicky, shaky feeling that was taking over her body. Fang. Just hearing his name sent her in hyper drive. The flock never talked about him, never even said his name. The last time they had, over a year prior, Max lost it. She broke down and didn't come out of her room for two days. She had the scars on her wrist to prove how bad it had gotten. After that, for her safety, they just stopped talking about Fang altogether.
It took her about five minutes, but eventually she was calm enough to stand on her own two feet. Once in the shower, she leaned against the shower wall and let the hot water beat down on her body.
She'd never really thought about what Fang's leaving had done to her. She hadn't thought it affected her as much as everyone had said it did, but now she was starting to believe it. She gazed down and rubbed the scars that lined her left wrist. Her fingers traveled up her arm to where the scar was from when she had tried to cut out the chip. If Fang hadn't stopped her, she could've lost the use of her arm and might have even bled to death if not done properly.
A year before, she had a meltdown. She locked herself in her room and did nothing but cry for two days straight. On the second day, she grabbed a box cutter from her bathroom and dug it angrily into her left wrist several times. Luckily, Iggy broke into her room and wrapped it up before she lost too much blood. He still kept a close 'eye' on her, just in case the pressure got to be too much again.
What kind of a person was she? Fang had saved her life when he stopped her from cutting out that chip, yet she repays him by trying to take it away again? What would he think? She felt sick to her stomach just thinking about what she could've done to him.
Then she stopped. What would it matter to him? He left, he was gone, he would have never known if she had just killed herself right there in her adjoined bathroom. Why should she feel guilty? He left her. He deserted her when she needed him most. She owed him nothing. She wasn't giving him anything. He didn't deserve it.
She suddenly found herself wondering what she would do if she ever saw him again. The fighter in her would go up and kick his ass for what he did. The bird in her would run away, as far as it could. She didn't know what the Max in her would do. Not anymore.
Would she forgive him? Give him a chance to explain? She had no idea what she would do if Fang suddenly reappeared in her life after four years of not so much as a telegram or postcard. Would he even have an explanation or offer an apology? Or would he just expect her to fall into his arms and take him back with no strings attached after all he put her through?
Deciding it wasn't worth the pain or the time, she dropped it all together and quickly took her shower. Stepping out, she grabbed a towel and made her way to the closet on the far end of her room to pick out something to wear. In the end, she put on an old, faded pair of jeans and a fitted black long sleeve shirt. She pulled on her boots, shook out her hair and walked out to the rest of her flock, leaving all thoughts of Fang behind.