Somewhere in the back of your mind, you (yes, you) must be wondering why I never write more than 3,000 words (sans A/Ns and line breaks) or add a trillion more pages every time I write, even if I'm gone for almost a month. That is mainly to avoid your eyes getting burned by my crappy, trying-too-hard-to-make-it-long-and-awesome writing. But since it is Christmas (or at least it still is over here), I might as well give a present. No matter how cheap I am.

Disclaimer: I don't own MR.

Fang

One thousand, three hundred seven days and counting: that's how long it is. That's how long it's been. But then, I'm probably doing the wrong math and shouldn't start counting at January. Either way, it's pretty darn long.

There was freshman year. The Twilight quoting, the guitar lessons, the confessions, and the singing. Minimal contact. Any interaction screamed business. No non-musical involvement, save for the Twilight quoting and the confession. To summarize it, we were still pretty much strangers.

Sophomore year still screamed business, with the bet and the dance lessons. But then it got weirder after that. There was the other confession, the quoting, the stargazing, the hug, the kiss, the after party, and the other kiss. A sign that things were definitely going to get trickier the next year.

There are no words for my junior year. There was the play, the replacement, the accident, the ice cream, the midnight talk, the midnight kiss, the other kiss, the party, Iggy's confession, the roadtrip, another kiss, and the sunrise.

I really don't think I'd be able to handle my senior year.

Almost everything, or at least almost everything significant in my life reminds me of Max. My family, my friends, school. Somehow she unintentionally manages to get mixed up in some random situation with me, regardless of who started it. And she doesn't even know it, unless I was the one who caused it.

So who is Max? I mean, who is Max for me? In freshman year she was a stranger; sophomore year she was a friend; junior year she slightly became something more.

And then she suddenly managed to become my best friend's girlfriend. Not that I think she's horrible or anything, but it's like, yesterday I just met her, and tomorrow I'd be telling my grandchildren a hundred different stories, ninety-nine of them including Max in some major role. Like I said, we somehow always manage to get involved with each other.

So, really, how do I feel about it? And how does she feel about it? To make it clear, emotions are, without doubt, not my forte. Not on mine, not on hers, and definitely not on anyone else's. I know that the emoticon with the equal sign and capital D means that a person is showing happiness and all that stuff. But when it comes to reading emotions, I'm like the frustrated student that the teacher hates because no matter how many times he'll try to teach me, I'll always be getting it in a minute and then get confused about it in the next. At first I'd be confident, knowing that I'd planned out every facial expression, every conversation, and every witty remark in my head. But then there'd suddenly be an unexpected twist, making me lose control and leave most of my plans useless.

I'm going to dive in. I'm going to dissect everything. I'm going to get answers. I'm going to solve the mystery that is between me and Maximum Ride.

A Conversation with Nudge; Half a Year Ago

I'd already known Nudge before; she was my partner a couple of times in English. I knew she was friends with Max, but whenever we talked it was mostly about the class, about me, or about her, and she really talks a lot. She almost never mentioned Max except for a couple of stories that happened between the four of them. And somehow, whenever Nudge talks, I find myself talking, too.

"You make Max actually sound nice and fun to hang out with." I whispered during one of our conversations. The teacher had given Nudge a stern look when she giggled. "You make her sound… normal. Really normal."

"Well, yeah, she is sort of normal. Being the strong and scary person she is just takes the whole day to be done. Like it's her full-time job, and being normal is sort of a sideline. Except that she's a regular there, too."

"How can you even tell if she's normal?"

"Well, it's no secret that Max denies too much girliness, I mean, she wears the same ensemble everyday and she always refuses to take my fashion advice. But there are times that when she's really, really, really pissed off and wants every one to know and that they should never approach her unless they want to be round-housed. And for that, she chooses all her toughest and worn out clothes. It's practically the only sign that she's fashion conscious. Every specific level of bad-ass-ness she feels also has a specific touch to her ensemble."

"Um, okay?"

"And she has a thing for boys, too. Actually, it's more like she has feelings for a certain guy."

I don't take part in the school's rumor mill. I've never taken part and probably won't want to. But saying Maximum Ride likes a boy is equal to saying that Clark Kent was actually Wonder Woman all along. In short, very, very, very, very impossible. So it was simply just like an offer I couldn't refuse.

"Maximum Ride likes a boy? That'd be the day."

"She does. He's literally her 'dark knight'. You know there was one time-"

The teacher gave her another unyielding look and she snapped her mouth shut. I glanced at her, giving a "carry on" look, but she smiled knowingly at me and shook her head.

"I'd rather you not get roundhouse-d by her." She whispered back. "But he literally is her dark knight." She added, emphasizing the term "dark knight".

A Conversation with Ella; Four months ago

With Ella was a different case. I never knew her much though I recognized her in a few of my classes, and I sometimes passed her on the way to a class. I wasn't exactly familiar with Ella, except for the fact that she was pure Hispanic yet one hundred percent American. Most of conversations we had were educationally related.

I met her and had a conversation with her one time, when I went to the local animal shelter in hopes of finding a pet for my cousin. She was one of the volunteers there, and I saw her feeding a couple of pugs while I was looking through the kennel.

"You a volunteer?" I asked once we were finished with the recognizing and greeting part.

"Yeah. Actually, I only volunteered because Max forced me too. But this job rocks, anyway."

I wasn't actually surprised about Ella being forced by Max. The girl can be pretty convincing without the "cherries on top" crap. But Max volunteering? That was absolutely unexpected.

"Max is a volunteer?" I asked.

"Yep." Ella said, standing up. "Her mom's a veterinarian who works part time privately and full time here. And, well, she has a soft spot for animals, too."

"A soft spot."

"Yes, she actually has one. One for animals, one for family and friends, and one for a 'dark knight'." She said with a knowing smile; the same one on Nudge's face a couple of months ago. That smile, and the mention of Max's dark knight.

"So it is true; Max does have a type."

"She does. Actually, it's really, really specific; it's more like a description of the guy. That's mainly because she never had a type before and suddenly started liking him. So every time something about him changes, so does the type. Like one day she'll see him play the harmonica, so that'll be added. Then the next day she'll see him playing the guitar, so she'll add that, too."

"But really, what is her type?"

"You sound like you like her."

"As if she'd allow that."

"I can't tell you, anyway." She said with another knowing smile. "Just seeing her roundhouse kicks hurt; I wouldn't want anyone to actually feel it."

Knowing smile: strike two. "Dark Knight": strike two. Mention of a roundhouse kick: strike two.

Somehow talking with Max's friends made Max more mysterious, more confusing, more "What the heck is going on in that brain of hers? For real?"

A Conversation with Angel; Two Months Ago

Angel, like Max, had a reputation. That girl was more convincing than the ShamWow guy, only she didn't need to talk that fast; she was more manipulative than Max. I'm pretty sure she's the most scheming person everyone has ever known. It was like she could control you; make you do anything, anytime.

I once came across her during the first few days of summer, a couple of days after the sleepover at Iggy's I saw her on the swings with a calm look on her face, which either meant she was pondering about life or she was trying to make squirrels bring her acorns and probably worship her.

As soon as I snapped my fingers, Angel got out of her reverie and greeted me, like she wasn't trying to take over a group of squirrels just a couple of minutes ago.

"Haven't seen you here before." I said, sitting one swing apart so I could twist and turn it without bumping her.

"Babysitting," She answered, looking in the direction of a girl about eight years old that was trying to chase a flock of birds while a Dalmatian followed her. "You?"

"Walking around. Contemplating."

"Oh yeah, about what?"

"People. Life. What to cook for dinner."

"How're Max and her 'Pale Knight' doing?" She asked. There it was again: that knowing smile the three of them shared.

"'Pale Knight'? Don't you mean 'Dark Knight'?"

Angel shrugged. "Name's changed."

"What do you mean?"

"They changed the name. And adjusted the type, I guess."

"So you're saying Iggy's not the dark knight?"

"No I'm not implying that. People change, y'know?"

"So why did dark suddenly turn to pale?"

She shrugged again. "Maybe because pale is the knew dark?"

"Uh-huh."

"Anyway, we use a lot of code names. 'Dark Knight' just sort of stuck, since it has a sort-of ironic ring to it."

The answer was good enough, but the actions weren't as convincing. The knowing smile was gone, but she still had that meaningful look on her face, like she knew better. Which she obviously did.

I seriously hope that no one knew about what happened between Max and me.

"So, really, are those two fine?"

"Yeah, they're doing pretty good so far. Iggy looks at Max like he's never seen a girl before, except he's not always that nervous."

"Ah, a natural advantage for being a ladies' man, of course."

"Touché."

"You think they'll actually end up together?"

"Who knows? Maybe they will."

But I could somehow feel my heart refuse, like it was fighting for a different cause.

I can be a little paranoid with details. If I worked for a newspaper, I'd be their fact checker. Most of the time I'd refuse to hear anything unless I'd heard it from two reliable sources or if I'd heard it at least thrice from average resources or I've known and witnessed it for myself. And hearing about Max's love life from her friends is definitely sufficient evidence.

So far, the only suspicious thing was the knowing looks. But "only" wasn't very useful, since distinguishing the fact that there was an actual secret between the four of them was practical enough as it was. And as cliché as it may be, their mystery focused on a guy. A man. A chap. A male.

And that guy, was he really Iggy? Because it really did sound like Angel was implying that Iggy was not the so called "Dark Knight". So did that mean Max didn't like Iggy?

Well I should know, since I was the one who made out with her, right?

It was no lie that Iggy liked Max. He was so much in love with her that it sometimes made Tess and I figuratively puke. And she really had a point about the kiss; Iggy should never know about it or his soul will be wrecked. For life.

So who did Max really, truly, genuinely, actually like?

That shall remain a mystery. But maybe not for long.

Like I said, I'm not good at handling emotions. That doesn't necessarily mean I can't control them. I'm not really the type to bawl out every five minutes. In reality, I'm the exact opposite. Whenever there are times that I don't know what to feel, or whenever one of my plans go wrong and I'm not sure what to express, I become (and usually remain) an emotionless rock. Silent. Sort of Motionless. Impassive on the outside. Doing a lot of deep thinking on the inside.

Like the couple of times there's an awkward situation involving Max.

And as previously mentioned, I don't know what to feel. I don't know what to feel around her. I don't know what to feel about her. I just know that she's been an awesome friend, and she might've been something more if Iggy didn't ask her out.

The real question: If Iggy never asked Max out, would she really be something more for me? Would I want her to be something more for me? Would she want to be something more for me?

Okay, so I repeat things a lot. But to make it short, If Iggy wasn't "between us", would she like me? Would I like her?

God I can't even answer a question only I have the answer to.

Maybe the fact that my brain says, "don't do anything stupid, like kissing her again" whenever she's there indicates that I'm shy around her, but then I wouldn't want to be repeatedly kissed by someone who has no idea what to feel around me, and then repeatedly apologize. Max probably thinks I'm a doofus. Or a weirdo. Or this creepy guy who doesn't really like to admit he's a player, which also makes me wonder how she always manages to put up with me whenever we hang out, post-kiss/es.

Still, I have to admit that I have to ask myself what's really on my mind. Not just when Max is around, but whenever pops up in my head, or whenever someone mentions her name, or whenever I see something or go somewhere that reminds me of her. I have to just repeatedly keep on asking the same question for eons. And then I have to ask again. And again and again, to be sure if I really like her or think about her that way. Just like fact checking.

I want my answer to be final. I want to know if I should really think she's the one.

A Conversation with Iggy; Right before we left the beach

After the night where he and Max came back from getting the sleeping bags and probably making out, Iggy looked like the happiest man alive. Even when there was one point that he'd gotten at least three consecutive cuts from the rocks in less than twenty minutes. Every time I glanced at him, he'd always look like he just won the lottery. He was so happy that I could puke from too much invisible rainbows coming from him, though not literally.

Of course, he was so happy that he could tell the whole world about what happened between the two of them. Including me. Even if there's a chance that Max might roundhouse both of us for that. Actually, we may get more than a roundhouse.

"God I just feel so freaking lucky." Iggy said, leaning back on his elbows, staring in the late afternoon sun as the waves splashed our feet. Both of us had finished packing while Max and Tess were still inside cramming all their stuff back into their bags.

"Sure ya do."

"I mean, when I was going to kiss Max, I'd thought she'd push away and call me a pig or something. But she didn't she kissed me back."

Ah. So he was the one who took action. Of course, she wasn't even drunk or spiked or intoxicated. It made me think of that kiss at the party. What would happen if Iggy walked in on us? Would Max suddenly turn sober and possibly chase after him and/or slap me? The thought must've made me cringe, but Iggy was probably still too happy to notice.

"You made out with her?" I asked in my "You don't say?" voice.

"Duh."

"I would never know!" I asked, my statement dripping pure sarcasm. But Iggy was still trapped in his cheerful demeanor to notice. "Let me guess. That was during the two of you grabbed the sleeping bags one night."

"Yes," he said proudly, his face turning a light pink. "I guess that's one achievement unlocked."

"So now I you have achievements?"

"Probably. I just… I just like her so much. So much that I might possibly love her, even. Who wouldn't like her? Don't you like her?"

Who wouldn't like her? Possibly everyone, except maybe the librarian because she does stay quiet in the library. And her family. And her friends. And Iggy and Tess.

And me.

"Uh, yeah… I guess I like her. In a platonic way, of course."

"Random question…"

I nodded, giving him a signal that it was okay to throw a query on whatever.

"If I never had the guts to ask her out, would you? Would you like her enough to ask her out?"

To my surprise, my heart started doing leaps. My brain, per agreement with my heart, gave out a comeback that sounded like, "I wish the 'if' was gone. I wish it really never happened."

But my conscience certainly had other things in mind.

"Max is pretty nice for a troublemaker. I'd probably ask her out."

He went for a bro-fist. "Great minds think alike, don't they?"

My brain was still screaming in rage, probably for not letting out the snide response that was waiting to get out inside of me. But I was nicer than that.

After all, if you liked a person who was taken, you wouldn't want to be rude to her boyfriend, right? Because then she'd hate you, too, even if he became her ex. And their common hatred for you might as well bring them back together.

Though I'm sure that that situation would never apply to me.

A Conversation with Tess; Right before we left for the beach

Even after the soap-opera worthy episode of me finding out I have a half-sister, namely Tess, things settled down a bit. Although no, she did not move in with my family because she has her own set of parents. And her own set of siblings. And her own set of equally annoying relatives.

Being my best friend for most of the part (which I thought would be impossible. No, I wasn't hoping for us to be something more), she knew I had a lot of secrets. Like how I cried and said I wanted a "thimble" after watching Peter Pan back in 2003. Or how I liked to tell people I had an irrational fear of beards just to see their reaction, even if it meant being a total a-hole.

But no, she never knew about all those kisses to Max, or how stupid I acted right after them. My love life, thankfully, was one thing she did not want to know. Although, no, I don't exactly consider Max part of my love life. Yet. I would've said "sexual activity" any other day, but that would be too embarrassing. And I'd get killed if she ever heard about it. That might be impossible (by which I mean Max hearing about this), but you can never be too careful.

To get to the bottom line, we did not pack together. She did not mess with my bag and found a shirt with a hole by the armpit. She did not help me fit everything into the bag. She did not remind me to pack my toothbrush and deodorant. But we did meet up after on her condition, so we could discuss possible comebacks and one-liners to throw at the two. Tess wanted to do everything humanely impossible for them to feel embarrassed and get a Talk with their parents.

Well, Iggy did receive a rather uncomfortable sermon from his dad when we got back.

"Let's just hope nothing… actual happens with those two." Tess said as she typed something quickly on her phone.

"Well, if something did, it's not like we won't let them die from embarrassment."

"True." She said, and I shifted uneasily in reply.

"You're feeling awkward about those two, aren't you?" She asked, a scheming smile on her lips.

"Well, I wouldn't want to walk in on those two."

"Point. But…" She put a cupped hand close to her ear and moved in closer. "I hear that," she pointed to the left of my chest, "saying something."

"And what is it saying?"

She looked up with a big grin. "You're in love! You have a crush!"

"What, on those two?"

She nodded. "Someone wants to be the third party!"

"Jeez, Tess. I do not like Max in a non-platonic way. And I especially do not want Iggy like that."

"So what, you want to be Max's mother-in-law?"

"Never."

My heart suddenly came skipping in. Yes, it did not want to be Max's mother-in-law. Yes, it did not want Iggy like that. But it stopped at the part about the third party. It stopped at the part about me liking someone. Someone, who, hopefully, remained unidentified for Tess. Because I also had no darn idea who I actually liked.

Was I perhaps Peter Pan, the clueless runaway who never grew up and was naïve to the actual concept of love? And that someone had to give me my first "thimble" so that I'd finally be "free"? If that was ever the case, then Max would be my Wendy.

She was the first girl who kissed me. She was the first girl I actually kissed without a dare as a background for a reason. And I was amazingly happy with that.

Was it possible that there was a part of me that liked Maximum Ride?

If someone ever came up to me, someone who knew well about my sort of underdeveloped friendship with Max (since confidentiality contracts made up most of the glue binding us together), and that someone asked me if I liked Max, I'd do a flat-out denial. No one likes good gossip about themselves, no matter how juicy. And no one likes to get beaten up by Maximum Ride.

But if someone came up to me, someone who knew Max quite well and would never lie about anything to her, like… Max herself, and then asked me if I liked her, I'd do delaying. I'd exclaim, or curse, then I'd ask why and I'd continue to question their motive or need to get an answer. Even if it was Max.

After all, you can't copy the answers from someone who has nothing written on their paper yet. Meaning, no one will ever get an answer to my question unless I get one on my own, which possibly leads to some story about flashbacks and self-discovery.

I learned from that conversation with Iggy that there was a chance I'd go out with her, but no answer if there was a possibility that she'd agree with that. From the discussion that went on between Tess and me, I found out that there was some explanation for me kissing Max more than thrice, and that was because a part of me somehow liked her more than a friend. Nudge, Angel, and Ella gave the hint that Max liked someone, for real, and their expressions revealed that there were odds that that guy was not Iggy.

And so the story shall continue.

I know now. I know how and what I feel about Max. I know the answers to the question. And a lot of craziness will definitely happen after this.

That was my final answer. But I know that I'm still oblivious about something.

I will never, ever get to find out from Max herself who really is her "knight in shining armor".

*Pokes you in the arm* Hey, wake up. And wipe that drool off your chin.

And that, my dear readers, is why I never write more than 3,000 words. To avoid insanity, too much mind-blowing grammatical errors (you tell me; autocorrect is not all it seems to be), and repeated repetition. I didn't actually read it as one whole chapter; I read it aloud piece by piece, right after writing. For those who want a blurb/summary thing: Does Fang really have feelings for Max? To find answers, he must go through a couple of flashbacks and do a lot of deep thinking.

(You can request the remainder of the story to be like this, but that would mean fewer updates and more madness.)

I dedicate this to my thesaurus (synonyms[according to Word]: lexicon, vocabulary, glossary, phrase book, word list).

So yeah, even if my handwriting slightly took a wrong turn, at least I actually got the effort to type it all, right? Besides, one more chapter 'til the end of Part 3 (I accept suggestions for Part 4 =D).

Hope you appreciate the present =D. Maligayang Pasko at Manigong Bagong Taon!