Chapter 26 – Research and Confusion

There was a perceivable difference in the air now that November had rolled by. Excitement of Thanksgiving, turkeys, football games, and a few days off of school was the buzz throughout the town. I had to admit it was ready for a few good days away from Nimitz High; it was about time I got to kick back and relax. I'd been busy planning courses of strategy with James when it came to our spying routine.

In the few weeks we'd spent on the operation, we'd learned that Mr. Reinhard was told by Mr. Darnell that bringing in guards would make our school more focused on their studies as opposed to messing around and pulling pranks (I'd picked up that information thanks to my uncanny friendship with Mrs. Andrews, the principal's receptionist that I worked with through my "punishment"). James had learned that the guards were here to catch someone, although he'd never found out who that was. I had my own suspicion, but I wasn't going to tell him anything; I wasn't even sure he knew about Fang's powers (A/N Fang didn't tell Max about his pact with James). And the last thing I was trying to figure out was if Mr. Reinhard knew anything about their true intentions.

However, in the upcoming weeks to Thanksgiving, I had a more pressing issue to deal with than spying or farm work or anything else you could think of. In biology, we had a huge paper due right before the break, and our teacher was checking to make sure students didn't wait until the day before it was due to get started. I still had a couple weeks, but since Fang told me he was starting his I suggested working together in doing research. Yeah, I know what everyone's wondering: when did Max become such a nerd? In reality, I just wanted to make it easy on myself since he was pretty smart.

Our paper was on the adaptations of animal anatomy: their design and how it is suitable for their lifestyle, the functions of special organs and body parts, diet, etc. The teacher gave us a bunch of ways to write out paper, so what seemed like would be a killer essay would in reality be a two-page rambler.

Fang and I, being like-minded in a lot of ways, chose to write our paper on the same thing: birds. What would be a more obvious animal to do than that? I mean, they had wings. I'm sure some of you expected me to do a horse or something, but a bird was gonna be a lot easier. They were made just for, like, other teens across the globe who had to right a paper on adapted animals. And the good thing was that the teacher would never be able to accuse us of cheating – which we weren't, we were just getting info together – because we weren't in the same period and his paper would probably be better than mine.

He pulled out a college-level textbook from the bookshelf in our living room and looked through it. We were sitting lazily on the floor, books and papers piled around us as we researched for the paper. "Your mom doesn't have anything easier than this, does she?" he asked, scowling at the book on his lap. "I can't understand any of this."

I shot him a cross look. "I doubt it. She has a degree in this stuff. Why don't we just ask her about birds and she can give us everything we need to know."

"We need to make a bibliography page," he said for the nth-time. "As in, we need sources to document where we got our information from. Getting your mom's signature doesn't count as a source, however reliable it may be."

I stuck my tongue out at him. He always had to be such a smart-aleck. "And we aren't looking this up on the internet because…?"

He rolled his eyes. "Wikipedia doesn't count as a reliable source, either."

"Whatever. If we don't find anything good here we can just go to the library tomorrow. I'm sure there are good, easy, children's books out there that we can understand. Although they might not let us take them out so we'll need to take notes."

"Uh-huh," he said mumbled, perusing more titles along the shelf. I sighed and looked at my notes. All I had written was the word 'birds' at the top of my lined paper. There wasn't much on our level here.

He pulled out some wire-bound notebook and inspected it quizzically. "Huh," he mused, flipping through the pages. He held it up and looked at me. "Have you seen this before?"

I scooted closer to him and looked over his shoulder. The notebook was full of writing and drawings, graphs and figures. It seemed old – the lead faded and rubbing off on other pages – but it was still eligible. I scanned some pages and picked out the main words. Genetics. Recombinant. Grafting. DNA. Was this one of my mom's old workbooks? I knew she worked of a genetics lab, but this look like nothing she or Jeb had ever mentioned they did. There were charts of different animals, lists of characteristics, and other notes I didn't understand. This science jargon was like Spanish to me – I understood it once in a blue moon, but most of the time I was out in the dark.

He flipped the book shut and we saw a name on the cover that appeared to sponsor the notebook – Itex. We looked at each other. "Does that name sound familiar?" I asked him. I wasn't sure why I recognized the name.

He pursed his lips and then shook his head slowly. "I feel like I should know it, but I can't remember. What exactly did your mom do in…?" He turned the cover over to see the inside. "1992?"

"She worked in a genetics lab," I said. "She used to do research on humans but after she had me she went back to school for veterinary medicine. She must have kept them from her old job."

"Interesting…"

"What exactly did your parents do?" I asked him. In the time he'd spent here, he had never talked about what his life was like before. I really didn't know anything about him except for his interests and character traits. And, to be honest, none of us had ever brought up his past. So he never mentioned it.

He closed the notebook – with his splint-free hand – and placed it on top of his school books. "My adoptive mom was a pediatric doctor," he said like it was an afterthought. "She wasn't married to anyone so it was just the two of us."

"And your biological parents?" I pumped. "Or do you not know anything about them?"

His face was impassive, but I could see his eyes harden for a second in pain. "I never knew them," he said quietly. "My adopted mom didn't share anything about them with me."

I remember Mom saying that his adopted mom died. I felt horrible for him because I grew up knowing what it was like to live without a father, so having no parents must have sucked big time. While I felt sympathy, I was also curious to know more about Fang. He was a mystery – no one knew about him. I wasn't sure what questions he would be okay with or what would be crossing the line.

"How did she die?" I wondered, trying to lace my voice with condolence.

He didn't say anything, looking at everything except me. I leaned closer. "You know you can trust me, right?" I added. If I could trust him, he should be able to trust me. Right?

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, sighing in exasperation. "I don't really want to talk about it," he said with an edge of steel. He rose to his feet and picked up his books, including the notebook. "Do you think your mom would mind if I looked through her notes? I want to do some research on that company."

I looked up with surprise and a little bit of hurt, but I shook my head. "No, I don't think she'd mind."

He nodded and headed toward his room. When he left, I slumped on the floor, letting my arms sprawl out over my head. I guess I asked the wrong question. Jeez, I'm just so smooth. Way to go, Max!

Mom walked in and looked at me lying on the floor with a raised eyebrow. I sighed and forced myself into a sitting position. "What's up?" she asked instantly, always knowing what I was feeling.

I thought moment how I wanted to word my response for a moment. "Mom, Fang has been living with us for two months now. Do you think it's weird that he hasn't opened up to us yet?"

Her tender brown eyes widened a bit in acknowledgement. "Oh, did you ask him something that upset him?"

I shrugged. "He wasn't really upset, but he didn'twant to talk about it. Is it wrong that we don't know anything about him, except for what Jeb told us?"

She breathed in deeply. "Max, don't push him. He'll tell us when he's ready. Besides, you heard from Jeb that his life wasn't really the best. His mom died, then ge bounced from home to home to another for a while. He lived in foster care. We have no idea how difficult it must be to be a child and have no real home. It isn't something we should force on him."

"I know," I said. I wasn't going to tell her of everything else I'd told him, or about the secrets we were keeping of his power and the Voice. Some things we could only keep between us, and yet I thought his past was something he could share with me.

Mom hugged me, making me feel a million times better.

"I'm starting dinner," she announced. "Do you want to help me?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I'm sitting out this time." I held up my biology book. "I have some research to do."

She laughed and walked to the kitchen. I gathered my belongings and, with a sigh, trudged upstairs to my room. I wasn't actually going to do homework – I have a strict no-homework-on-Friday-nights policy – so I plopped on my bed and felt myself sink into the comfortable mattress. I couldn't explain why it hurt not to have Fang trust me. I kept his secret. Yet my heart constricted uncomfortably at the thought of him not wanting to tell me about his past.

Give him time, Max, the Voice intoned. Oh great, just what I wanted. He isn't used to trusting people. Patience is a virtue, and if you give him some time he'll tell you.

Thanks a lot, I muttered sarcastically.

Tell me this. Why are you upset that he doesn't trust you?

I groaned. Can't you read my thoughts? Isn't it obvious? I'm a freakin' teenage girl with a voice in her head, and not one that is suicidal or tells her to do bad things. So I'm obviously more insane than the average insane person, and on top of that I told him about you when I hardly know him. Why do you think I'm upset?

I swore I heard the Voice chuckle, it was hard to tell. I think there is a reason that you're not admitting to.

Oh yeah? What would that be, oh Great Voice?

It didn't respond, causing me to groan again. It left all the possibilities open. What other reason would I have for being hurt? Something that I wasn't admitting to. Think Max… My mind wandered to the conversation I'd had with Angel a few weeks ago, when she thought I liked Fang. When I denied it, she thought I was lying. She said that Fang liked me…

Did the Voice think I liked Fang?

Okay, that's just crazy. Why did everyone think that? He was my foster brother. Everything about that would be wrong. Ugh, I hate all this emotion stuff. I'm good at expressing anger and frustration, but anything about relationships or lovey-dovey feelings? No. Just no. That wasn't me. I hated that everyone assumed that I liked him.

But the question that racked my mind for the rest of the night was something that, the more I thought of it, made my stomach flutter with the possibilities, and also wreaked havoc of confusion and disbelief. I'd never felt that way, ever. I didn't even understand where it had come from. I didn't understand the doubt and uncertainty, the constant wondering if it was true. But every time I saw him, the question kept popping up.

Does Fang like me?

Sorry for Max's somewhat OOC-ness. Wrote this all today with only a general idea of what I wanted to have happen. So, yeah, that's it on that part.

Congrats to Chickeerafish for being the 200th reviewer!!!! Keep Fang in the basement and have a cookie and ice cream party on behalf of me! :D :D :D Kina, I have to keep reminding myself that there are stories out there that have no reviews at all, or hardly any. You don't have a bad ratio yourself. But still, I always feel bad when I see the 900 review stories out there. But that's just me. I have this weird quirk that I hate to be upstaged, but then again I know I'm not the best at everything. It's something I have to adjust to. YourMoosyFate, that'll come in later in the story. I wish I could say more, but I can't. Again, thanks for the suggestion Mo! I'd love a shoutout in your next chapter! :)

Reminders: I've updated my profile to include a section about my stories, which includes summaries of the latest chapters, previews of the next chapters, and also information about the stories themselves. As well as ideas that are floating around in my head. It'll be a very useful tool if you want to know more about my stories. Be sure to check it out because I'll update it frequently!! Um, yeah, check out Ghost of Me, the poll, and review. That's all I got today.

Review please!!!