Chapter 11 - Defiance

The house itself hadn't changed, but it felt as though it were somehow too small, like I was being caged in. There was no way of escaping him. I wondered if I bolted in the other direction now would anyone chase after me. The only person I could imagine outrunning me was Fang, but even then he'd have to be reallyfast to keep up with me. It would be so much easier if I could float away from my problems, similar to how clouds drift from one area to the next. Have the wind carry me wherever it chooses. Anything would be better than being in the same room with Jeb.

To my surprise, Fang went in the back door before me. As he entered he shot me a glance over his shoulder that said "I know you don't like the guy, but suck it up. He can't be that bad." I wondered how it was possible for a person to communicate better with their eyes than their words, but with Fang the possibility wasn't unlikely. It was a skill of his.

I sighed and trudged in behind him, feeling like I was being led by an invisible collar around my neck. In the kitchen, the strong aroma of Mexican spices wafted from the stovetop. My stomach gurgled involuntarily. At the round dinner table in the corner, Mom was setting up a foldable chair for Jeb, whose lean form was currently resting against the wall. He adjusted his glasses and, for once, did not examine me like a patient. In fact, he didn't look at me at all.

His attention was solely on Fang.

I wondered what Jeb thought of Fang, since he claimed to have never met my "father" before. Fang definitely wasn't the type of kid who, by just looking at him, would leave a good impression on a dad. With his black wardrobe people often mistaken him as Gothic or Emo, but I was just beginning to learn form him that he was neither. His natural expression wasn't one of reception and warmth, either. The angles of his olive-toned face made him look threatening, and if he ever felt uneasy about someone, his glare would be just as menacing. I wondered if Jeb knew he would be facing someone just as closed off as I was.

"Hello, Fang," Jeb said, slinking forward and extending a slender hand in his direction.

I immediately felt the tension radiating from Fang, and I had to try hard not to snicker at him. He was the one who had earlier signaled for me to suck it up. But now it seemed like he was getting just as twitchy as I did around Jeb. His eyes darted all over the room then met mine for a moment before looking back my dad. He stuck out his hand in a jerking motion, as if his brain had relayed its message to move suddenly.

"I'm sorry, do you prefer Marco?" Jeb went on, eyeing Fang quizzically and with anticipation. "Valencia told me that you liked to be called Fang."

Fang didn't say anything. He just stared at Jeb with an empty gaze that held underlying danger.

"I heard about you from a friend of mine in Social Services," Jeb continued. "I'm sure you know Mrs. Boyd." He paused to see if Fang would respond, which he didn't. "I told her I knew the Martinez's were looking for a foster child, and when I heard that you went to the same school as Max I decided to give Valencia a call. I hope this wasn't too bad of a placement, and that Max is being kind to you." For the first time he looked at me, and I responded like the young adult that I was by glaring back at him.

"Dinner's ready!" Mom interrupted before the tension could escalate more. Ella ran down the steps into the kitchen and snagged a seat across from Fang, ogling him again. I sat in between him and Mom, isolating Jeb on the other side with a considerate gap between him and the rest of us. Mom had placed tacos on the table, knowing that Jeb wasn't too big of a fan of other Mexican dishes, along with Cajun rice and a steamed variety of vegetables.

We, as in Ella and I, attacked the food with eager hands. Fang sat back and observed to see what we were doing, learning what was the appropriate dinner-time protocol. Seeing that there really weren't any rules, he grabbed three tacos. Once everyone had gotten their food and was contentedly eating, the tension seemed to relax.

For a little while, anyway.

"Is there any way I could speak privately with you for a second, Fang?" Jeb asked after we were full and content.

I instantly stiffened. What was Jeb up to?

Fang shrugged, as was his trademark, and stood from his chair. He raised a questioning eyebrow at me, wondering what was going to happen. I just shrugged back, not having any clue what Jeb was doing.

Fang walked silently toward his room, considering several weighty questions in his mind. First of all, he wanted to know why Max's dad was so obsessed with him. He knew Max didn't like Jeb, and judging by how cryptic and strange he was, she had good reason. It was hard for Fang to show no emotion, to keep his calm demeanor as he walked to his room with queer doctor following him. After all, he did have a reputation to keep up, and despite his worst expectations of the upcoming conversation he wasn't going to run away.

They walked into the room, Fang's feet silently moving toward his bed, where he sat down on. Jeb's dress shoes tapped against the hardwood floor as he closed the door behind him. He paused for a moment to look at the teenager, which made Fang a little uncomfortable.

Fang brushed his dark bangs out of his eyes, getting a better look at the doctor. He wasn't anything like how he pictured Max's father to look like. Max had an athletic build, slim but strong. He could see where she got the height from, seeing that Jeb was about as tall as he was, measuring almost six feet. Her father was very thin, almost gangly looking. And he even had to admit somewhat that he was nerdy in appearance with his wire glasses and gray-streaked hair. He seemed like the kind of guy who looked harmless and yet somehow... foreboding. Like his lack of intimidation was a warning of danger. It was something that Fang couldn't properly explain.

"Well, you wanted to talk, so talk," he said impatiently, which to the untrained ear wouldn't have sounded any different from his normal tone of voice.

"I did want to speak to you for a moment," Jeb began, an inexplicable look of pride and something else in his eyes that Fang couldn't detect. "But I was a little sidetracked by finally getting to see you. It may sound odd but I feel attached to you."

This greatly confused Fang. "Why? It's not like you knew me before."

"Actually, I knew you prior to your placement in Social Services. I was acquainted with your mother, not your biological one but your adopted one." This news made Fang's expression freeze in place out of pure shock. He'd never told this to any of the social workers, so it more than surprised him to hear this stranger talk about his life. "This isn't the first time I've met you. The first time was so long ago, when you were a baby, so you don't remember me. Your adoptive mother and I used to work together before she died." Fang winced but continued to look at Jeb steadily. "Because I knew her, I felt it was my... duty to take care of you once you were older."

It took Fang a few seconds to find his tongue again. "Really, did you only want to bring up my past? Cause if that's what was so important, I want you out of my room now."

"I didn't come to speak of your past," he said ominously. "But of your future."

Fang raised an eyebrow skeptically, but his heart was racing in his chest. What the hell is he talking about? he wondered.

"You see, I intervened on your behalf so that you would have a chance to choose your own path." The doctor paced the room with intermittent steps across the small space. "I understand that being a foster child, many people decide your life for you. But you've taken the first step by getting away from families that you felt uncomfortable with. Even at your young age, you have learned what works for you and why it is important make decisions that will benefit you. I wanted to keep you on this road, and in doing so I wanted to put you with a family that I know will never use you as their puppet. There are people out there who want to pull those strings for you, lead you in a different direction. It's imperative that you be independent, and not a pawn."

By now, sweat had beaded on the back of the teen's neck. His senses were on hyper drive, listening to someone who he had never met - well, apparently he had - and yet knew so much about his life. It freaked him. He only had one logical response.

"I know why Max doesn't like you," he said, trying hard to keep his voice from shaking. "You're insane! You don't know me. And by placing me here you're being hypocritical by pulling the strings for me. So leave before I twist your strings around your neck."

Jeb's lips quirked to one side in a smug half-smile. "That's what I wanted to hear, your defiance. Goodbye, Fang, and I'll see you soon." He walked out of the teen's room, leaving the door open.

Once Fang had heard his footsteps in the living room, he pounced on the door, closing it quickly. His back rested against the door as he slumped to the ground. Jeb's words still fresh in his mind, his breath came quickly as he tried to regain his composure. Not one thing that Jeb said hadn't been true, and that was what scared him the most about the man.

I tried to make this chapter a little more interesting, although I'm having trouble writing. I'm still trying to find my mojo. I think he ran off. If anyone sees him, pm me. He's tall and has brown hair and brown eyes, with thick plastic glasses.

So far I only have eight voters on my poll. I know I have more readers than that! Seriously, it takes two seconds. Answer it or I'll be lost later on in the story. I might keep with the third person, Fang POV for a bit, too. Or at least for the next chapter, anyway, so I hope it wasn't too bad.

Reviews please!!