Chapter 7
Several hours later, Jeb, the flock and I were eating pizza at our safe house in ________________. I would tell you where it was located but well, then it wouldn't be much of a safe house, now would it?
I will tell you this much. The house had five bedrooms, a kitchen that soared beyond Iggy's wildest dreams, and an in-ground pool. Jeb took one of the bedrooms, while the flock split two more along gender lines. We tried splitting ourselves up the first night. Angel with me, Iggy with Gazzy, Fang and Nudge by themselves. After the first night of Nudge coming in and out of my room twenty times whining about how she couldn't sleep, I yanked her double bed out of her room and dealt with her snoring the rest of the night.
Gaz and Iggy – similar story. I don't know what I was thinking putting them in a room together without supervision. Maybe I just had a small glimmer of hope that the two of them had gotten past their "Let's try to blow everything up" phase. Riiiight. After they tried to have a race with homemade rockets that set their bed on fire, Fang moved in. And Gazzy and Iggy took their exploits outdoors.
"I feel like I'm in Hawaii again," Nudge exclaimed through her ham and pineapple pizza. "This is soooooo good." I smiled. She almost sounded like the old Nudge.
The flock dined around an oblong oak table built for like twenty people. We were attempting the whole civilized eating thing but the whole napkin on the lap, chew between bites didn't really suit us. I mean - Iggy could inhale three slices in five seconds, sauce spewing all over the place, and Gazzy burped after each and every swig of his Fanta. Refined and sophisticated? Yeaaahhh – no. Would never see it with this crew.
Jeb disappeared into the kitchen momentarily, returned with two cokes. One for himself, one for me.
"Anything you want to talk about?" Jeb said after I downed half of mine. He sat across from me, looking at me like he did when the flock and I clogged the garbage disposal back at our E-shaped house in Colorado. Clogged it with Gazzy's small collection of Matchbox cars.
"Nope," I said quickly, biting into my fifth piece of pepperoni pizza.
Really didn't want to talk about the failed interview and how we really needed to cooperate with the CSM on the whole movie thing. And Fang and I still weren't sure to trust Jeb with our surprise visitors after the interview.
"Max?" His monosyllabic question was filled with curiosity, frustration, and resignation.
Jeb waited for me to say something. Anything. But I wasn't talking. At least not to Jeb.
Nudge sat to my right and I could tell she wanted to squeal on Gazzy. I flashed her a look that screamed "Don't you dare."
"Heard about your interview."
I flashed a look at Fang. What part of the interview was Jeb talking about? The during? Or the after?
I decided to take a chance on the "during."
"How were we supposed to know the darling intern had aquaphobia?" I reached over the table for another slice.
"Max, you know how important this is. The CSM thinks a movie could bring so much attention to their causes and keep you out of harm's way in the process." Jeb's voice was low, calm – totally irritating.
"We really need for you to cooperate on this."
"Then, you might want to tell your interview team a little bit more about us before they schedule a meeting." I wanted to say more, but I'd said too much to this man already.
"I'm sorry, Jeb. It's all my fault." Gazzy muttered. His eyes were so full of remorse, I wanted to hug him right then and there. "I got her all wet. I'm sorry."
Jeb rose, walked to Gazzy, put his hand on his shoulder.
"Why can't you just do the interview for us?" I snapped. "Then we wouldn't have to act all prim and proper for your dog and pony show."
"Well, I could," Jeb began in his collected, even tone. "But they're not just gathering information about what you can do. These people are observing your mannerisms, your actions. I personally don't see it as a bad thing that Gazzy did a cannonball into the pool."
Gazzy's face lit up. "Really? I can do it again! Let's go outside!"
"No!" Nudge and I exclaimed at the same time.
An endearing paternal smile crept onto Jeb's face.
"But, I do need for the six of you to be somewhat reserved in your actions around the interview team. They don't seem to have the thickest skin."
"You mean like that doofus that Max took apart last week?" Gazzy yelled out. The doofus to which Gazzy referred badgered me one too many times about my hair, my hygiene habits, where I shopped. Like any of that was really important to a movie about kids with wings. After I spit fire on him for a good ten minutes, he ran away like he'd seen a ghost.
Jeb tried not to smile at the memory of intern numero dos. That guy really was a weenie.
"Guess we'll try again next week," Jeb offered. "I tried to get Miss Klementovich to come back, but well, I think she was a little intimidated by some of you."
Klementovich? I knew there was a reason I couldn't remember her last name.
"Well, I hope we're not going back to that hotel!" Gazzy spit out without thinking. A collective SHHHHH spread throughout the room.
"Um – well, cause it was such a lame hotel – I mean the pool – "
"It's okay, Gazzy," Jeb said, his hand back on Gazzy's shoulder. "I know all about your visitors too. We'll discuss them after dessert."
"Dessert?" Nudge asked. I waited for more – we all did. But she said nothing else. She just stared blankly at Jeb while she twirled her long braids, making them look like helicopter blades looking to take off into the air.
"Chocolate chip cookies," Jeb stated, removing his glasses as he spoke and cleaning them with the front of his shirt.
"Cookies? Chocolate chip cookies?" I could barely get the words out through all the drool forming around my mouth.
"Jeb set his glasses back on his nose. "Hmmm. Yes. Chocolate chip cookies. Your mother should be here any minute with a fresh batch."
