A/N:

Hey, what's new and exciting lately? For me...I've had a pretty good week if I do say so myself. Lots of laughs at school, had a school dance the other night, and it was my birthday a day or two ago. Happy Birthday to me! I'm fourteen now! Woohoo! Yeah...not really anything special happens when you're fourteen, lol. :D I'm not really feeling the change quite yet. I didn't wake up with super powers, I'm still waiting on my Hogwarts letter (I'm telling you guys, they keep losing it in the post!), and I've yet to see so much as my insanely curly hair grow. So yup...same old same old. And onto the story...

Chapter 3: I Don't Think We're In Kansas Anymore

Max's POV

"I'm sending you to live with your mother in Arizona. I just don't know what to do with you any more. I just don't know what to do..."

I knew what was coming out of Jeb's mouth must've made sense, but I didn't register the words. I could hear the sound they made, I heard the words fine. But it was like he was speaking another language and I had no idea what they meant. My mouth slid open into a confused sort of gape as I tried to move my paralized tongue to form words. Obviously, my brain wasn't making the connection because I remained silent for another several moments. Finally, Jeb started waving a hand in front of my face, and it felt like the gears in my mind had started to grind again and were now working doubletime. My mouth lept from it's unsure "O" to a rigid line of anger.

He was sending me to live with my mother in Arizona? What mother in Arizona? As far as I had known, I didn't even have a mother. I'd never heard from her before, anyway. Jeb never talked about her, there were no phone calls...Hell, she didn't even bother to send a freaking birthday card! And now I was moving in with her?

"You're shipping me off to go live with some lady I don't even know? You've got to be joking." I was yelling more in disbelief now. Jeb's face looked a little ashamed. He took a deep breath and massaged his temples while I carried on with my shouting. "I don't know what PLANET you're from, but here on EARTH...it's not normal to friggen ship your kids out of state. I mean, most parents would've grounded their kid, not packed them up for adoption!"

"Maximum Ride, this is NOT adoption-" he started to say, but I cut in.

"It might as well be. Your sending me away to live with strangers who's NAMES I don't even know. Call it what you want, but you're kicking your own child out of the house." I was huffing while I said this, absolutely swelling with rage. How could he do this? What had I done to deserve what he was planning on doing to me? A tiny stone of guilt fell into the pit of my stomach at this thought, but I pushed it to the back of my mind and filled the space with anger.

"Max, I'm not kicking you out, I just think you need a change of environment. I think it would be highly beneficial for you to get away for a little while and-" Again, my anger was making my words lash out. And frankly, I didn't really care if he got his word in or not. I just wanted to be heard. He owed me that much.

"A change of scenery? You think that's all this is? You're making me MOVE IN with strangers! I didn't even know my mom was still alive! And suddenly, I'm going to be sharing a bathroom with her? That is..that is MESSED UP!" Jeb stood up from the table and threw his hands in the air.

"For God's sake, Max, will you let me finish my sentence?" he boomed. I fell abruptly silent, breathing heavily. He stared down at me with hard eyes while I waited for him to say whatever it was he'd been wanting to. And then his expression softened slightly. "Max, I'm sorry..." he said softly. I rolled my eyes. He was sorry? I nearly laughed. He's shipping his kid Cross-Country and all he can do is apologize? It's like running over somebody with your car and offering to buy them ice cream. "I'm sorry, but I think it's the best decision. I love you, Max, I do." I noticed that his eyes were watering slightly as he spoke. "But you're just a bit more trouble than I can handle right now." It was as though he had slapped me.

My relatively calm state was destroyed by what he said and once again, I was suddenly infuriated. He looked utterly confused. "Well, I'm sorry I'm such a big dissappointment to you!" I cried. "I didn't realize I had to be the perfect child or you'd kick me out! I'm sorry I don't sit at home all day in little jumpers and play Scrabble with you by the fireside while drinking warm milk. 'Cause that's freaking bullshit." I started to storm away from the table.

"Max!" Jeb called from in the kitchen as I stomped down the hallway and grabbed one of my baggy jackets off a coat hook. I ignored him completely, even when I heard his footsteps thudding after me. "Max wait, that's not what I meant! You're not a dissappointment, you're just-" But anything else he tried to say was cut off by the front door slamming as I slipped outside. It had gotten chillier since this morning, and I could see my breath as I hurried down the driveway. I pulled on the jacket and broke out into a run that had no destination in mind. I just let my feet carry me where they may as I ran down past the blocks and blocks of perfectly manicured lawns and post card houses.

I just couldn't believe that my own father would stoop to that level of pathetic. At just the slightest sign of imperfection, he rips it all apart like a jigsaw puzzle and tries to start over. But after awhile, more and more pieces just end up going missing and the puzzle is never complete again. I huffed and puffed my way through a few more blocks and then the cement paving of sidewalk changed to crunchy gravel that rolled around under my feet. I stopped short. I had unconciously taken myself to the gravel road I usually walked to get to The Meeting House. In fact, I could see it in the distance, a tiny little light flickering in one of the back windows. So the meeting must still be going on.

I felt a knot of muscle tense near my stomach as the thought of the necklace in my drawer back at my house jumped into my mind. I'd wasted my entire day thinking about what to do about it, but had come no further to making a rational decision than I was to finding the cure for cancer. I coughed lightly into my palm and watched the burst of my breath puff out into the air. It was getting colder, despite the fact that the day had been relatively fair-weathered. I glanced over my shoulder and saw nothing but the dark sky framing the remainder of the gravel road that lay behind me. Then I looked back at the flickering light in The Meeting House. I shifted uncomfortably in my oversized jacket and burried my hands in my pockets. And then I debated. Would I rather hang out in the cold until Jeb went to bed which probably wouldn't be for another couple hours, or go take shelter in The Meeting House?

The building looking more and more inviting by the second as a chilled breeze whooshed through my jacket and whipped my hair around, I finally set off at a fast walk towards The Meeting House. I hopped up the porch steps and padded lightly to the front door, pushing it ajar and slipping inside. As soon as I shut the door, I immeadiately felt warmth rush back into my fingers and toes. I took a deep sigh of relief. Suddenly, I heard a creaking noise. I looked up, slightly startled. Mousey was sillouhetted against the wall on the stairs. She stood stock still while I squinted to see her, my eyes not having fully adjusted to the dark quite yet.

"Max?" she hissed, nearly stumbling down another stair or two, but catching herself on the railing. I rubbed my hands together to warm them up, and gave a sour wave. Mousey ran down the last few steps to meet me, looking worried when her features came into focus. "Oh gosh, Max, you REALLY shouldn't have shown up tonight..." she said in a hurried whisper. I raised my eyebrows.

"What do you mean?" She opened her mouth to say something, but my question was answered before she could speak. A large shadow had just appeared at the top of the staircase. Even in the darkness, there was no mistaking the large, masculine form of Sean. A light flicked on and he came into full view. His face held the expression somewhat of what I would've imagined God would look like if you flipped him off. PISSED and POWERFUL. He slowly began to descend down the stairs. Me and Mousey stood where we were and watched him walk slowly towards us. Mousey looked like she was about to run and hide at the mere sight of him. I stuck my arm in front of her to keep her where she was. Not because I was afraid of facing Sean alone, but because I figured he was less likely to seriously injure Mousey, therefore I could put her between us.

He finally came to stand directly in front of me. I saw Mousey's upper lip quiver a little bit. There was no doubt that she was absolutely terrified of him, just like everybody else. Everybody else except me. "What's up, Doc?" I said smartly. His expression didn't change. Then suddenly, he had seized me by the collar of my jacket and slammed me up against the wall behind me. Mousey let out a shrill shriek that reverberated through the echo-prone house.

"What are you hiding from me?" Sean demanded, his nostrils flaring. Though his sudden violence had startled me at first, I managed to brush it off and gave a short laugh.

"Oh, Sean..." I said dramatically. "I knew I should have told you long ago. But...I'm having your baby!" I threw a hand up to my forehead for added emphasis. He rolled his eyes and shoved me roughly sideways into a small side table that had been covered in a dusty white sheet. I stumbled over my own feet and somehow ended up on the floor with the table tipped sideways and a cloud of dust swirling around me. I coughed into my hand, and climbed to my feet. "Sheesh...talk about domestic violence." I said, patting more swilrs of dust off my clothes. Sean's fists clenched.

"Max, I've had enough of you bullshitting around. You know perfectly well that I'm not enough of an idiot to believe that nothing's going on here!"

"No...I'm pretty sure you have an ample amount of idiocy." I said bluntly, putting my hands on my hips. Sean started to advance towards me and Mousey gave another shriek. Just then, footsteps thudded down the stairs and a hand was seizing Sean from behind. Carson had pulled him back and now spun him around. Caden was thundering down the stairs, his lip ring glinting in the light.

"Whoa, Sean...back off, man." Caden said, coming to stand between me and Sean. I pushed him out of the way.

"Relax, Caden. I could've handled him. His bark is worse than his bite." But even as I spoke this, I felt a trickle of fear residing in me. I shook it off. Sean looked furious, but was no longer trying to to strangle me.

"She's keeping something from us. And she's doing a damn awful job at hiding it!" he barked. Real fear rushed like ice through my veins. The necklace flashed into my head, it's beautiful plum stones glittering against the silver they were inlaid in. I tried to act casual.

"Sean, wh-what the hell are you even talking about?" I said, resisting the urge to fiddle with my jacket. This necklace was the only thing that drove a fear of Sean into me. And I had no idea why. Just the idea of his grimy hands on it made me shutter.

"You take off last night without hardly explaining yourself, and then you don't turn up tonight until now. What's going on?" The others stopped and turned to look at me too. Obviously, what Sean had said was making them realize that my behavior had been kind of odd. I swallowed.

"So, I didn't feel like showing up. Big deal. You said yourself that I was practically the most useless one on the team." I countered. Sean stepped forward again, and this time no one made a move to stop him. He put his face very close to mine and began to speak with his teeth barred.

"What did you take from the Watson's mansion? Whatever it is...I want it. NOW." I felt a lump harden in my throat, but I pushed my speech past it.

"Sean, I didn't take anything from that stupid mansion. All that was there was a bunch of old junk. What do I need any of that stuff-" I was cut off by Sean's fist pounding into the wall directly next to my face. I fought back a wince and continued to look him in the eye.

"You and I both know that's a lie. You took that necklace didn't you? Didn't you?" He yelled this last part, his fist hammering into the wall again. "Do you know how much trouble I went through to set up that deal? Do you know how much money you lost us when you turned up empty handed?" I shoved his fist away.

"It's not my fault that crazy old guy was up there with a gun! I even told Mousey to run. Didn't I, Mousey?" I turned to face her, knowing she would back me up. But her expression was faltering.

"You-You never did explain why you made me do that..." she said quietly. I gaped. Even Mousey was turning on me? The one person in the room I'd thought would go with anything I said? Who practically worshipped the ground I walked on? I couldn't believe my awful luck tonight. Everyone in the room was looking at me with a suspicious expression.

"You guys, come on! You know I wouldn't." I said in desperation, more fear pounding through me. Even Caden and Carson folded their arms. I looked back at Sean. "What? You think I would take it just for the sake of taking it? Does that really sound like something I would do?" Caden fiddled with his lip ring and then spoke in a calmly suspecting manner. His voice sounded cautious, avoiding offense but getting to the point.

"But would you take it if you thought you could get some money out of it for yourself?" I opened my mouth and almost faltered in speech, but quickly composed my voice. I couldn't risk anything right now.

"Of course not!"

"So help me God..." Sean said slowly, "If I EVER find out...that you had that necklace and didn't tell me...You will be just another corpse laying in a morgue with a bullet in your head." Mousey gasped. Carson frowned a little bit.

"Sean, don't you think that's a little much?" he piped up, looking from me to Sean. Sean ignored this point and continued to glare at me for a few moments. The whole room was filled with a terse silence. Mousey looked to be on the verge of tears. I forced myself not to clasp my hands together nervously like I wanted to, and remained stock still, looking from face to face. They all held an expression of suspicion. I tried to laugh lightly to dispell some of the tension, but I couldn't help but notice it was a little shaky. I hoped they would attribute that to the fact that Sean had been striking out at me for the past several minutes.

"C'mon you guys...What would I want with a stupid necklace? I wouldn't know what to do with it, and I sure as hell wouldn't wear it!" This seemed to place some reassurance into the mix. Caden's and Carson's faces relaxed a little bit, and Mousey seemed to be gathering herself back to composure. Even Sean looked slightly calmer. I gave another, more confident laugh. "Besides..." I said light-heartedly, "Purple's not even my color."

I knew immediately that I'd said the wrong thing. Sean's eyes snapped to me, flaming. The whole room heated up like an oven, and I could feel the acid in my stomach churn. Sean took a menacing step forward, his fists clenched so that the tendons bulged through his tanned skin. "I never told you that taaffeite was purple." I gasped, without thinking, at my stupid mistake. There was no question as to whether I had given myself away. The way the vein in Sean's head pulsed said it all.

"I-I..." was all I could think to stutter. And then I was bolting for it. I tore across the room to the door and flung it wildly open. In a matter of seconds, my feet were flying down country road, flinging gravel every which way. I thought for just a second that maybe they'd thought it wasn't worth it to pursue me. But then I heard large, thumping footsteps thundering down the road behind me. I willed my legs to go further, afraid to look back. But then I felt long, lengthy arms wrapping around my upper torso. I tripped up and fell face-first onto the road, scuffing my face with gravel-related injuries. My arms were pinned underneath me, and a large, warm someone was crushing me down. Whoever it was (Sean, probably), suddenly stood up with me still encased in their strong grip. They turned me harshly around to face them.

I'd expected to see Sean glaring at me, but if was Carson instead. Although, instead of his usual timid expression, there was anger written across his face. He looked almost identical to his older brother. The resemblence, in both expression and features, was a bit frightening. "Carson..." I said breathlessly, in a tone on the verge of pleading. I didn't want to have to fight him if it wasn't necessary. But at the moment, it didn't look like I would have a choice.

"You betrayed us..." he said through barred teeth. "Serves you right to get whatever Sean decides to do with you." For a moment, fear roiled inside me. But I fought against it like I do all my other emotions that are even remotely unpleasant, and took a deep breath.

"You don't really believe that..." I told him. I saw his anger falter for a second in his eyes, but then he looked furious again. No longer like a lost puppy, but an enraged guard-dog.

"Stealing is one thing. Stealing from your friends, though? That is beyond low." And with that, he hauled me off the ground and started dragging me back to The Meeting House. I kicked and fought the whole way, but there was no denying that though I had heart to fuel me, he overpowered me with brute strength and size. I suddenly saw Sean's sizable form before me. He grabbed me by both my wrists and flung me sideways into the outer wall of The Meeting House. I felt a bruise forming already as my shoulder slapped into it. I was knocked of balance by the sudden blow and crumpled against the wall. In my weakness, Sean grabbed me from behind and tore off my jacket with his fierce hands. It was no problem for him to shred through the thin, flimsy material. I shivered as the cold breeze engulfed me. He checked the pockets with intense concentration, but found nothing.

"Where did you put it?" Sean shook me violently as he regripped me from behind. I tried to kick backwards, but could make contact with nothing. In desperation, I sunk my teeth into his hand, which had just come up to grip my face. He wrenched it away with a howl of agony, and I darted forward. He seized my legs, though, and once again, I hit the ground. I collided with dirt and grass this time, though. Instead of pulling me backwards, he crawled ontop of me to pin me down. He then dragged me to my feet along with himself, and walked me over to the side of the house. I swayed slightly in his grip. "Where is it? What the hell did you do with it?" I shook my head, a little disoriented from everything that had happened. In my refusal to answer, Sean was overcome with rage.

He yanked my back sharply by my shoulders and then thrust me face forward into the wall. My head slammed into the wooden panels, and I saw stars. I felt skin breaking and warm blood seeping from somewhere on my forehead. He did it again, and I felt lightheaded from the impact. It felt like my skull was being hammered down. I felt my nose break on the third blow and blood exploded down my chin and neck. I new I was going to die if I let this go on any longer. With a strange desire to live, I summoned all the strength I could muster and brought my elbow back to slam into his solar plexus. He released my with a gagging noise, and I brought my foot down on the inside of his foot. He tripped backwards, giving me the perfect opportunity. And I seized it. All the others looked stunned as I shot out of the area like I had rockets on my feet. I hammered down the road despite the fact that I felt just about dizzy enough to pass out.

I could hardly see where I was going, but I didn't stop until I found myself on my street. I had never been more relieved to see a garden gnome in my life. I panted sharply as I climbed my driveway, feeling the sticky blood saturating my face. The door had been miraculously left unlocked again, and I crawled into the house gratefully. All the lights were off and everything was silent. I sat for a minute on the rug just inside and leaned back, exauhsted and with a hammering heart, against the cool door. My head throbbed with a pain so intense it pretty much obscured all processes of thinking. I placed a hand up to my nose and groaned in agony. My fingers came away stained red. After a few more minutes of sitting on the grainy rug, I picked myself up off the floor and tramped quietly upstairs to the bathroom.

As I flicked a light on, my reflection came into view in the giant mirror that stretched across the wall. My appearance was gruesome. The side of my face that had been smashed into the wall repeatedly was turning a violent shade of swollen reds and purples. My nose was a bloody lump in the center of my face, and a large cut on my lip was puffing, it seemed, even as I stared at myself in the mirror. The cut on my forhead, which resembled a crack in a piece of glass, was oozing blood. Add bruises on my shoulders from where Sean had shaken me, and scratches here and there from the gravel. Also to take into account was the large amount of dried and sticky blood running in trails down my cheek, my chin and my neck. I looked like I had walked off the set of a particularily violent slasher film. The dirt in my hair and the grass stains on my clothes completed the look.

I turned the water up to the highest temperature it would reach on the bathtub tap. As the water heated up and filled the tub, I gingerly removed my clothing, careful not to brush too severely on my aching injuries. I grabbed a washcloth off of the counter and stepped into the steamy water, letting myself and my stiff body sink down to be enveloped in warmth. I groaned quietly as small bouts of pain throbbed through me. After a moment of sitting in the water and trying to get comfortable, I placed the washcloth, now damp, up to my face and began to wash away the blood and dirt that covered it. It was a painfull process to clean my entire body, and one that took me almost a full hour until the water in the tub had turned stale and tepid. Flakes of dark red swirled around in it.

I shivered as I stepped into the cool air outside the bathroom, wrapped securely in a towel, my face looking cleaner but swollen and puffy. After slowly getting changed into some sweats and a baggy t-shirt, I sat on the edge of my bed, a headache throbbing me into numb thinking. What was I going to do? I couldn't stay here. They new generally where I lived, if not exactly. I tried to recall if any of them had ever been to my house, but couldn't remember. Still...that didn't mean they didn't know. They could come in the middle of the night, searching for the necklace. They could kill me. This was the first time that thought had crossed my mind. Before now, it seemed implausible. But now...there was nothing stopping them from doing just that. It wouldn't be hard. All they would have to do would be to wait until I had fallen asleep and then break in. Sneak up to my room with a knife or a gun...I gulped, trying to drive the thought from my mind. And of course, there was the necklace to consider.

I hopped off my bed and ran to the drawer I had tucked it away in. My heart slowed a little when I picked the shimmering piece up and turned it around in my hands. It felt almost as though I'd become obsessed with not letting anyone get ahold of it. It was mine, and I wanted to keep it that way. What the old man at the mansion had said resonated with me, the words floating around in my mind and ringing in my ears. I needed to put it to better use. But how was I supposed to do that if I had no use for it myself? I added that to my mental 'To Do' list. Right after what had been my last priority: pissing Sean off. I supposed that I could significantly check the item off the list several times. You know...if my mind had a pen or something.

I laid down on my floor and groaned in pain. Suddenly, a number floated through my head. 520. It took a minute for me to remember why that number seemed familiar. In all the commotion, I had nearly forgotten the my father was shipping me off to live in Arizona with my stranger of a mother and God only knows who else. I sulked about that for a minute, when an idea slipped into my thoughts. It would be the perfect escape. It would be like dissappearing off the face of the planet. The gang would have no idea where I had gone. Me and the necklace would appear to have been vaporized into thin air. Oh yes, it was perfect. Suddenly, the thought of living with a stranger didn't seem so bad. It paled in comparison of the thought of possibly being beaten to death.

I would finally be able to get out of this town, and far away from the gang. From all my troubles, and just start over. Take the necklace with me and not have to worry about it anymore. Maybe even find a use for it. This Arizona thing was sounding more beneficial by the minute. I crawled off the floor and walked to my closet, flinging the doors open, and pulling out a dusty old suitcase that had been molding in the corner for the past several years. A strange musty smell was coming off of it. Probably from the water. The last time I'd used this suitcase was when I was seven and we went to a waterpark for the weekend. The wet swim clothes and towels had dampened it, and I had never properly dried it before shoving it back into the closet and forgetting it.

I half expected moths to pour out when I unzipped it and threw the top of the case back, but nothing happened except that the smell became stronger. I breathed through my mouth and sighed deeply. "A chance to escape..." I muttered to myself. "And the only one you're probably going to get..." I was half trying to convince myself that going to Arizona was the right thing. I compared the terror of living with my long-lost mother to the terror of living in fear that my old friends might find out where I live and come to kill me and rob me. The terrors were pretty evenly matched, if you ask me. But in the end, I knew I would never hear the end of it from Jeb if I didn't go. I tucked the taaffeit necklace into one of the more concealed zipper pouches of the suitcase and then walked to my dresser to start picking out clothes and stuffing them into the case.

"You're a crazy bitch, Maximum Ride..." I mumbled to myself. "A crazy, masochistic bitch..."

"Attention...all passengers are required to fasten their seatbelts during takeoff. You may remove them after takeoff when the seatbelt light above you turns green. Emergency procedures will be demonstrated at the head of your cabin. Please turn your attention to the steward of stewardess at the head of the cabin." The woman over the intercom began to repeat this information in the same monotone as she had been using for the past several minutes. I sighed tiredly, and clicked my seatbelt into place. Three days had passed since my little...er...run-in with the gang. The bruises on my shoulders were now just tinged green blotches, and some of the smaller cuts had turned into scabs. The swelling in my lip had gone down considerably, and I could now talk without sounding like a walrus. But many of the larger injuries were still prominent. Dark circles had formed under my eyes from my broken nose, and the large cut I'd gotten on my forehead had required stitches.

I still looked like I'd had the crap beaten out of me, it just looked like it had happened a couple days ago. Some people passing my seat looked at my odd appearance with weary eyes. I just glared at them until they caught me looking and hurried away. I was sitting in one of the many seats covered in blue material on a very large plane that was supposed to fly me to the Tucson International Airport. This is the closest major airport anywhere near Sierra Vista, Arizona where my "mom" lived. She was supposed to meet me at the airport, and from there we would drive a grueling 54 miles to Sierra Vista.

I still wasn't sure about this whole arrangement. I mean, sure, it got me away from the danger that lurked back in my hometown, but...It all seemed a little blown out of proportion. I was still furious at Jeb. (One little mistep, and he ships me out of state?) But I had calmed down considerably and had even allowed myself to be hugged by him as I departed to board the plane. His tearful face kept floating up at me in my thoughts, but I reminded myself that I was angry at him and pushed it to the back of my mind. I was flying coach, of course. There was no place for me in first class. I mean, come on...let's be honest. I was a rather scrappy teenager with cuts and bruises everywhere, and ripped jeans and a raggedy thin jacket over a tanktop I had stained with mustard from a hot dog I'd bought at the airport. All my remotely good clothes were packed away securely in my suitcase and sitting in the baggage compartment down below the plane.

In the seat across the thin hallway from me sat an elderly couple. The husband was grey-haired and strict looking and patted his rotund wife's shoulder as she popped multiple pills into her mouth and prepared a paper bag for later use. Behind me was a stressed looking mother and her black-clad daughter who was blasting music so loud out of her ipod that I could hear word for word what they were singing. I mean, I would have been able to if I could understand it through all the angry screaming. And in front of me was an Asian man and his baby daughter. The baby was wailing loudly at the top of his lungs while the father tried desperately to explain something to a flustered stewardess in broken English. I sighed, knowing this would be a long flight and flopped my head back against the seat, waiting for the plane to start moving.

When I opened my eyes, I felt like I was waking up from one of those dreams where you fall off a cliff and you still feel the sensation when your eyes shoot open. The plane rocked back and forth, shaking and quivering, and my first thought was "Holy shit! We're going to crash!" But then I woke up enough to understand that if we were crashing, people would probably be screaming and running around in madness, not opening containers of pureed squash for their babies like the asian guy in front of me. The woman with the monotone voice was over the loudspeakers again, announcing that we would be arriving at the airport shortly, and would we all kindly fasten our seatbelts? I groaned and stretched, realizing that I had slept through most of the flight. And I was STARVING.

My stomach rumbled and growled with hunger, but there was no food in sight except for the stupid crying baby's mashed squash. It was a reeking earthy smell, but right now, anything sounded okay as long as it filled me to some extent. I was debating whether or not it would be too mean to steal food from a baby when a rushed stewardess past by. I stuck out my arm to flag her down, and she stopped suddenly, looking flustered. "Is there anything I can do for you, miss?" She treated me with the utmost politeness, but I could see the way she cringed at my raggedy, beaten appearance. I tried to ignore this.

"Umm, yeah...Do you by any chance happen to have some peanuts or pretzles or something? I'm starving." I looked at her hopefully. She glanced to the left of her as a man halfway down the aisle puked into a paper bag. I didn't even bother to look. Before I'd fallen asleep, all I'd heard for the past several hours was the intercom loudspeaker and people vomiting all over the place. I vowed to myself that I would never fly again. And then I thought that I'd have to fly back home anyways, and I started to pray that I'd grow a pair of wings or something, because flying is disgusting. But I wasn't gullible enough to believe that anyone could ever have wings on their back. This isn't frickin' Reading Rainbow.

"Umm...I can go check in the back for you." said the stewardess. "I'll be back in a minute or two." But of course, as I expected, she never came back. I saw her five minutes later running down the aisle towards a little girl that was peeing in the middle of the aisle because she "just couldn't hold it anymore!". I put my head into my palm and leaned sideways, staring at the back of the seat in front of me. I wondered what kind of fucking airplane doesn't have any fucking peanuts as the plane started to land.

We finally stopped about fifteen minutes later and everyone was allowed to get off the plane. I felt like I was about to cry with joy as I grabbed my jacket (my only carry-on item) and practically shoved everyone out of the way so that I could get off as fast as possible. I ran down the long, grey tunnel that connected the plane to the airport and burst through into civilization once again. Well...it was still basically all cring babies and people vomiting, but at least I had leg room! "Oh sweet Lord..." I muttered to myself as I looked around. It wasn't HUGE, by any means, but it was large enough. Everything was starkly white, though the floor was tinged gray from all the footsteps. A large portion of the wall was windows that let in bright white light. I squinted around and spotted where you were supposed to go to claim your luggage. A big conveyor belt with all sorts of bags and cases rolling along on it.

I looked for my one suitcase and large duffle bag where all my belongings were kept, all the while eyeing up the food court across the way. A great big blueberry muffin sitting in one of the cases of a Starbucks was making my mouth water. As soon as I got ahold of my bags, I rushed over to stand in line, forgetting totally that I was supposed to be on the lookout for my long-lost mother. But the blueberry muffin was calling. As I approached the counter, a bored looking woman with a nose ring asked me in a monotone voice what I would like, while trying to finish the last lines on a page of her book. "I'd like that blueberry muffin." I said, pointing to the case where the muffin awaited me. The woman let out a great big sigh, and placed a bookmark in her novel. She slid off the stool she was sitting on in an almost slow-motion type of way and started to hobble over to the case. It felt like ten minutes had past by the time she was sliding back the glass to reach in for my baked good of wonder.

I tapped my foot impatiently while she cradled it like it was a baby and then shoved it in a bag with some tissue paper. Her glinting nose ring reminded me of Caden's lip ring and I felt my nerves go all frayed again, and my stitches gave a little twitch as though remembering the pain of getting smashed into a wall repeatedly. I was all eyes for the muffin while she rang me up when I felt a firm tap on my shoulder. I tore my eyes away from the sugar and saturated fat that was soon to be in my stomach and faced a kindly looking hispanic woman. She had wavy black hair pulled back in a ponytail and chocolate brown eyes that seemed familiar. Her smile was warm. I just stared, wondering what a Hispanic woman in an Arizona airport could possibly want with me.

"Hello..." she said slowly, looking me up and down. "Are you by any chance...Maximum Ride?" I felt my eyebrows raise. The woman with the muffin clicked her tongue impatiently, and when I didn't turn around, I heard her open her book again.

"Umm...maybe. It depends on who's asking." I was wary.

"Hi, I'm Valencia Martinez. I'm supposed to meet you here. I'm...I'm your mother." She smiled warmly and I felt my jaw drop.

A/N: Hey sorry for the long wait, but I have an explanation. And a long one. I'll actually be posting an author's note quick, so if you wouldn't mind reading that...

:D