DEDICATED TO: CoffeHouseGirl274, for her wonderfully honest review. XD I tried to PM you, but it said you disabled that feature. =( Ah well. No hard feelings. Also, to ADarkWingedForever, for catching up and reviewing so many times! =D Love ya, girl!
Here we go… More action, here we come!
Max's POV
"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR KNEE?"
Anne's bellow echoed across the entire field and then some. I swear I saw birds scattering in the distance.
Our dear soccer coach was literally livid when she spotted Fang and I half-carrying Gazzy down to the field, fully geared up to play but sporting his delightfully purple bruise. That was a bit of a downturn to his appearance, I bet. Maybe we should have gotten him a donkey to ride on or something… more for dramatic effect than anything…
"Hi, Anne," Gazzy chirped, cheerful as ever. He was clinging onto Fang's and my shoulders, but other than that- the boy was happier than Iggy with powdered donuts.
"DON'T YOU 'HI ANNE' ME, MISTER RICHARDS!" Anne screamed, clenching her clipboard so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "ANSWER THE QUESTION!"
There was even a vein pulsing in her temple.
Impressive.
"I just bruised my knee a bit, I'm fine," Gazzy started, still smiling brightly.
"A bit?" Juliann whispered, gazing in awe at the magnificent plum color of Gazzy's knee. "That is not 'a bit'."
"Solipha's right, Gaz," Ford drawled, coming over to inspect the damage. "That's some nasty business there."
Gazzy scowled at Ford, whipping his arms away from around me and Fang. "Oh yeah?" Gazzy challenged. "I said I'm fine, and I'm fine!"
Ford snorted, and Anne did not look appeased in the least. "Everyone but Gazzy, take a lap," she ordered, glaring at the latter.
The bruised wonder scowled right back at her. "I can take a lap, too," Gazzy insisted, looking murderous at the mere hint of a suggestion that he wouldn't be practicing.
"You won't if you want to stay on this team," Anne replied flatly, her grey eyes cold. "You messed up, Gazzy."
And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked away.
"Crap," Fang remarked calmly. I barely suppressed the urge to facepalm at his blunt analysis of the situation. You would think that if the boy didn't talk much, he wouldn't curse as much as he does with his small choice of everyday words.
"Yes, Fangles, this is indeed a crap situation," I muttered, elbowing him in the ribs.
Fang didn't even flinch. "Thank you for agreeing, Max," he replied airily, as if discussing the weather.
We were not discussing the weather. We were discussing the grounds of retaining the sanity of our dear friend, Zephyr 'Gazzy' Richards.
I wish I was over-exaggerating. I really do. But sadly, I am not. Gazzy treats soccer like his life. He's as obsessed with soccer as that Oliver Wood dude in Harry Potter is with quidditch. Possibly, Gazzy is even more obsessed.
Nudge once told me Gazzy has never had a girlfriend for longer than three weeks. His soccer obsession is probably the main reason why.
"I'm going to talk to Anne," Gazzy growled, breaking me out of my thoughts. "She can't keep me off the field." Gazzy pushed roughly away from me and Fang, starting towards the bench Anne had stormed off to. He took very long, miniscule steps with his left leg, and huge, impatient strides with his right. This caused his gait to look rather awkward and jerky, but Gazzy ignored the way he looked at the moment.
Sighing, I set off down the track to complete the ordered lap. Fang followed close behind, and we soon caught up to the rest of the team. They were gossiping like old ladies about Gazzy and Anne, Ford and Lauri especially.
Goalies.
"I didn't realize I hit him that hard," Lucas moaned, looking miserable. "I took out our best forward!"
No one disagreed with him, but instead tried to dance around the subject. "It's okay Luke," Matt assured him swiftly. "Gaz doesn't mind a bit of pain."
"But Anne does," Lucas pointed out.
"Don't worry," Matt repeated unconvincingly. Lucas groaned, a sound which made it seem like he was indeed worrying.
"Gazzy will be better in no time," Sadie said suddenly, making everyone look at her. "He always has a bad first day with injuries, then he regenerates impossibly quickly. That's the way he's been since grade school."
Everyone stared at her for a moment. Sadie never really spoke much, and usually to only the girls. She seemed to have a strange aversion to speaking with guys. However, she was a killer midfield, so no one really cared about her conversational habits. "She's right," Fang agreed, causing everyone to turn his way. "Gaz is always like this with injuries. Bad first day, miracle recovery. He's a strange boy."
"Amen," Ella murmured, and Nudge giggled. Lucas looked reasonably happier at Sadie and Fang's assurances, and said nothing more about Gazzy's injury being his fault.
By this time, we had made it back to the bench where Gazzy and Anne sat. Like Mr. Tulney in PE earlier, Anne had strapped a chunky ice pack to Gazzy's knee. They were sitting in silence, neither looking at the other. Gazzy had his left leg up on the bench to support the ice pack, and was looking decidedly sulky.
"Alright, team," Anne said briskly once we had arrived. "Sit down." We all plopped down on the turf in front of the bench, beginning to stretch without her telling us to. "I am sure you have all noticed Gazzy's knee," she began, her eyes sparking darkly. "I am not pleased about it, which you must have also noticed."
We nodded emphatically. Devon stifled a snicker, and Ford and Rosanna instantly smacked him. "You might think the situation is funny," Anne added, her eyes fixed on Devon. "However, I do not."
Devon stopped smiling, and continued with his stretching.
"This has compromised our chances in the game against the Daleview Mustangs tomorrow." Anne brandished her clipboard at us, flashing the lineup paper in our faces. "I already had the lineup completely marked out, and now I have to change things."
"I can play just fi-" Gazzy started hotly.
Anne wheeled on him, and interrupted instantly. "I didn't ask your opinion, Richards," she hissed, obviously very pissed. Gazzy shut his mouth, but still looked adamant about his ability to play. "Even if you were to play tomorrow, you aren't in any shape to perform the way I had anticipated. The plays I wanted to incorporate aren't suited to your ability at the moment. If you get to play at all tomorrow, Rosanna will be switching with you every other quarter so you can rest."
Rosanna and Gazzy locked eyes for a moment, then nodded. They were obviously okay with that arrangement, as long as both of them got to play.
"So, as you might imagine," Anne continued, her eyes sparking just a tad less. "To prevent any future injuries, I'm asking you not to play your pre-school scrimmages every day for the remainder of the season."
"What?" Lucas and Matt yelped in unison. Anne cast them a cold look, and they quieted.
"You heard me," she snapped grimly. "I would feel bad about restricting your playing time, but we can't afford any more injuries like Gazzy's from meaningless games. If you're injured in one of our games, I assure you I'll be more understanding than I would be in one of your own scrimmages."
Lucas and Matt still looked slightly rebellious, and Fang seemed to be mulling her orders over. Everyone else, however, seemed fine with it. After all, Anne's new decree barely affected anyone else but Lucas, Matt, Fang and Gazzy.
"Understood?" Anne asked, her voice clear and commanding. Everyone nodded amid the general murmur of assent. "Good. Now tomorrow against the Mustangs, we'll have to focus on speed and precision. Their passing is good, from what I've gathered, but ours is better. And we have some of the fastest runners in the whole damn school district on this team whom we can use to our advantage." Anne's eyes found mine, and I half-smiled at her compliment.
"Max, obviously," Juliann muttered, nudging me playfully. I smiled at her, but didn't say anything.
"We just have to shoot hard and fast to gain an early lead. Rosanna, Gazzy, run fast and be brutal to anyone who gets in your way." Both Gazzy and Rosanna looked gleeful at this order. Rosanna even started cracking her knuckles ominously, which looked even more frightening than normal coming from the usually sweet and petite junior.
Appearances can be deceiving, you know. Especially with females.
"Fang, I expect you to be dancing circles around the Mustang defense," Anne ordered. Fang nodded, his eyes thoughtful and a smirk playing on his lips. "Lauri, Ford, save everything you can get your hands on, obviously," she continued. The goalies grinned and high fived each other, instantly launching into a discussion of what they knew about the Mustang offense. "Midfield should be fast, precise, and moving constantly. Fight to the end to maintain possession of the ball." Anne paused, her eyes roving over the team and seeking out each midfielder in turn. "Defense, if the ball gets past the midfield, launch it out, preferably to one of our players. If that's not possible, aim for open space."
"Yes'm," Nudge chirped, saluting Anne. Ella nodded, throwing her arm up in an identical salute. Matt and Lucas merely nodded, looking slightly nervous.
Anne smiled at them. "Okay, now that my impressive pep talk is over for today, let's get on with practice. As a very special treat for you Lynxes, I've decided to skip the Death Defiers. I don't want you all tired out for tomorrow."
This announcement was met with great applause and whooping from the majority of the team. Juliann and Rosanna were jumping up and down and squealing their heads off, while Ella and Nudge once more performed
their complicated handshake in celebration. Sadie looked merely relieved: she had never been especially good at DDs, and made it well-known she detested them.
I, for one, honestly didn't care. After the first four days with DDs crowning the end of practice, my legs had adapted. I could sprint five without breaking a sweat, and then I would jog the rest. Easy.
No one else but Fang seemed to share my views, however. In general, when Anne set up cones in the ominously familiar DD pattern, people groaned loudly in protest. Only Gazzy, Fang, Ford and I adjusted to them. Then, surprisingly, Nudge began to lead the pack with us. She was a good runner, I had to keep reminding myself. She always led in PE, along with Gazzy and I. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I still was. Nudge always conveyed the impression she was on the brink of death during soccer practice, but I guess that was just her good acting coming into play. Even Anne believed some of Nudge's groans and complaints, and it was very difficult to convince Anne when you weren't actually hurt.
"Begin your regular warm-up!" Anne directed, waving her clipboard ferociously at us. We scattered towards the middle of the field, beginning to stretch out for the practice. Ford and Lauri led the warm-ups, briskly putting the Lynxes through our paces. We were so ready for that game tomorrow. I was feeling energetic enough to sprint from here to our house in Nevada, then turn tail and run straight back.
Oh yes. I was ready to piledrive some poor, unsuspecting Mustangs. After all, they wouldn't expect a freshman girl to whoop their sorry asses, would they? They wouldn't, and I was counting on that.
I kept looking over at Gazzy throughout the remainder of the practice, checking to make sure he was still alive. Gazzy was swinging his right leg moodily back and forth on the bench, his left held immobile by the ice pack the size of Mount Everest. His eyes were locked on the ball, tracking it as it flew across the turf from me, to Nudge, to Danny, to Ford, to Ella, and back towards me again. Gazzy as a whole was looking mournfully deprived, his blue eyes practically swimming with frustration. Periodically, he would wrench his gaze away from the ball and glare at his injured knee. Gazzy wouldn't dare whack it, but I could tell from my few glances towards him that he was muttering something foul at the poor bruise.
Like I said, I was worrying about Gazzy's sanity at this point.
"Gaz seems to be cussing his knee out for hindering him," I murmured to Nudge as I dribbled the ball towards her. "Is that normal?"
"Oh, he'll be fine by tomorrow," Nudge assured me, giggling as she trapped the ball and passed it to Lauri. "Gazzy knows it, too. His problem is he doesn't like sitting on the bench. The poor boy just isn't used to it."
"I'll bet," I agreed. "He must have never had a coach who would willingly take him out of a game very often."
"And Gazzy has never played a game where he's willingly come out very often," Nudge replied. "The idea just isn't compatible with his brain." Nudge received the ball back from Ford, and dribbled off.
I snickered at her blunt analysis of Gazzy's mindset, but had to admit that Nudge was speaking the truth. And, after all, I was pretty much the same way Gazzy was. When I was twelve, my soccer coach took me out of a game once the entire season, and that was because I had broken my leg.
So yeah. I could sympathize with Gazzy.
Juliann passed me the ball, and I dribbled off through the cones of Anne's drill. I twirled a neat Maradona around the first cone, cut right at the next, pulled off a quick roll over by the third cone, and finished off with a fancy move that Fang had made up and taught me. He told me he had named it the Whiplash, but I simply called it the twirl-around-and-cut-to-the-sides-a-few-times-inator.
Fang still insisted on calling it the Whiplash, though. Silly boy. My name was obviously loads more creative.
"Halt!" Anne ordered, and I trapped the ball under my foot, panting lightly. "End of practice," she explained, seeing our quizzical looks.
"Already?" Liz asked, sounding confused.
Anne smiled at her, nodding. "Already," she confirmed. "Doesn't that make you sad?"
Astonished, we all checked our watches. Or in my case, yanked Fang's wrist over to check his watch. It was indeed already five, which was the end of practice.
"I guess we're just too used to the four-hour practices," Fang murmured, pulling his wrist out of my grasp. "An hour and a half seems too short now."
"Very wimpy," I agreed, following him towards the sideline, where the team was regrouping. Fang's mouth quirked in a tiny smile, but it disappeared quickly. He was seeming a bit tense, for some reason. It was probably the anticipation of tomorrow's game getting to him. After all, it was the first game of the season. He had every right to be tense.
Anne was standing by Gazzy now, two large cardboard boxes on the bench between her and the bruised wonder. "Here are the new uniforms," Anne announced, seeing our curious peeks towards the boxes. "They are literally brand new this year, so please don't rip them to shreds. Our sports fund is starting to dry up a bit."
Some people laughed, but we all had our eyes riveted on the box. Anne dipped her hands into the larger one, pulling out a jersey.
It was scarlet, with white edging on the collar and sleeves. A small round patch on the upper left declared the wearer to be part of the CROMWELL HIGH LYNXES, the blocked silver words circling around a small silver paw print. Anne flipped the jersey around, showing us the silver number '17' flashing in the sunlight. "Pretty, aren't they?" Anne asked, fondly folding up the jersey. We all nodded, our gazes locked on the box. "Any number requests?" she continued, placing '17' back in the box.
Several hands shot up at once. Anne pointed to Rosanna, who was looking very intensely at the box of jerseys. "Number three," Rosanna requested, bouncing up and down.
"Any objections?" Anne asked, surveying the rest of the team. No one spoke, so Anne pulled number three out of the box and tossed the jersey to Rosanna.
Rosanna caught the jersey like it was made of gold, looking at it in awe. "Grab a pair of shorts and your socks, and you're free to go," Anne instructed. "Home game tomorrow, be on the field and ready to play at three forty five!" she added, loudly so that the whole team heard.
"Seven," Gazzy stated, looking up at Anne from his seat on the bench. Anne paused, but no one objected.
"Here, Gazzy. Be better by tomorrow," she warned him, tossing the scarlet jersey his way.
Gazzy grinned, fishing around in the other box for the socks and shorts. "I'll be good as new," he promised.
"You better be," Anne replied sternly. "Max? Number?"
"Thirteen," I requested, smiling. To my surprise, Fang raised his hand in protest.
"I want thirteen too," Fang declared, his eyes locking on me.
I scowled at him. "Get your own number, Rianild," I replied coolly. "Thirteen is mine."
"I beg to differ," Fang retorted.
I cut him off before he could say anything further. "There's no need to beg- it won't make a difference," I told him sweetly.
"Ooh, dis," Ford stage-whispered. "Cat fight!"
Several people, including Nudge, Ella, Liz and Lauri, giggled at this. Fang and I ignored them, however. We were too busy shooting glares at each other. "My number!" I hissed at him, putting my hands on my hips.
"No," Fang disagreed, "it's all mine."
"Meanie," I snapped.
"Selfish," he shot back.
"Idiot!"
"Jerk!"
"You're both being silly," Anne cut in, looking between us disapprovingly. "Max will have number thirteen, because she asked first. Fang, you're going to be fourteen," she decided.
I shot Fang a triumphant look, but didn't dare say anything in front of Anne in case she revoked my beautiful number thirteen. Fang scowled at me momentarily, but accepted the jersey with fourteen across the back. We elbowed each other silently as we went to get our socks and shorts, and Gazzy snorted loudly. Anne cast us a suspicious look, so we stopped with the physical harm. I unfolded the jersey on my arm so the silver thirteen glistened brightly in the sunlight, very visibly. Fang pinched my arm, obviously noticing my adjustment on holding the jersey, and I had to bite back a yelp.
"Didn't your mother teach you to be kind to ladies?" I hissed at Fang. We each extended an arm to Gazzy, which he took. He was suspended between us as we walked back towards the locker rooms, the giant ice pack still bound to his bruised left knee.
"Why yes," Fang retorted. "But you, Max, are most certainly not a lady."
"You're just jealous because I have number thirteen," I replied airily, shifting the uniform on my arm.
Fang grunted noncommittally, causing Gazzy and I to snicker. "What is it with thirteen, anyway?" Gazzy asked, glancing between me and Fang. "Why are you two making such a big fuss over it?"
"Thirteen is my lucky number," I declared dramatically. "I like how to other people, it's unlucky. Makes me feel special."
"How cute," Gazzy commented, snorting again. "And you, Fang?"
"One plus three equals four, which is my lucky number," Fang answered calmly. Gazzy and I stared at him in slight disbelief.
"Why didn't you get number four then?" I demanded. "That would make more sense!"
"Number four jerseys are always size small, which won't fit me. Never has," Fang replied.
"Poor Fangles, his relationship with the number four shall be forever unrequited," I crooned. Fang reached around Gazzy's shoulder and yanked on my ponytail. "Ow!" I yelped, flailing around to try and pull my hair out of his grip. Gazzy and Fang laughed at my actions, so I tugged sharply on Gazzy's short blond spikes of hair, then reached over and pulled on Fang's long, dark bangs.
"Max!" Gazzy whined, immediately stopping his laughter and rubbing moodily at the hair I had pulled. "That hurt!"
Fang nodded in agreement, gingerly touching his scalp where the hair I had yanked connected.
"Good," I snapped. "It was supposed to hurt."
"I retaliated because you stole my number," Fang pointed out.
"Are you number four on your non-school team?" I demanded.
"Yeah," Fang confirmed slowly.
"So why are you complaining if I have thirteen on the school team? Your number even has a four in it, now. So you're being ridiculous, Fang," I retorted. We arrived outside the locker rooms, releasing Gazzy so he could lean against the wall on his good leg.
"She's right, you know," Gazzy whispered loudly.
"Fine," Fang snapped. Gazzy and I grinned at each other. "Maximum dearest, I apologize thoroughly for my appalling behavior concerning the number thirteen. Happy?"
"Yep," I replied, smiling at him. Suddenly, I lunged forward and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, sticking my head comfortably under his chin. I could already feel him stiffening in response to my attack, but I ignored that detail. That was just Fang's automatic response to hugging. "Thank you Fang," I sang sweetly. "I forgive you for your sins."
Fang tapped me awkwardly on the back a couple times with one hand, and I could hear Gazzy laughing again. Pulling back, I smiled brightly at both Gazzy and Fang, before running over to the girl's locker room. "See you later!" I chirped, suddenly very cheerful. I had number thirteen, The boys nodded, heading towards the other locker room as I slipped inside the girls'.
I was greeted once more by the sweaty-sugar cookie scented air. Rosanna had stayed behind at the field to wait for Juliann, so I was the only one in the room. Sighing, I headed over to my locker and started twirling the combination lock.
By the time everyone else made it inside, I was already fully dressed and pulling on my left sneaker. Ella and Nudge had their arms linked, and were singing some sort of chant while Rosanna and Juliann provided background vocals. It went kind of like:
Through the district,
Down the street,
Who's the toughest team to beat?
Cromwell! Lynxes! Yeah!
"That's sure to strike fear into the hearts of the Mustangs," I remarked, stifling a laugh.
Ella nodded imperiously. "Of course it will," she replied. "Nudge and I made it up."
"I can tell," I muttered under my breath. Ella and Nudge didn't hear, but Sadie flashed me a quiet smile. I grinned back at her.
Once I had both of my shoes on, I collected my new uniform and walked outside. Anne had just made it back from the field, lugging the two now-empty boxes that had contained our uniforms. "Hey, Max," Anne greeted me with a smile. "You're going to do great tomorrow. I can tell."
"Thanks, Anne," I replied, grinning in return. "We'll crush those Mustangs."
"That's the spirit!" Anne agreed enthusiastically. "I just have to go recycle these boxes now." She gestured to the uniform boxes under her arm.
"Do you want me to do it for you?" I offered. "I have to wait for my sister and Fang to finish dressing."
Anne nodded, handing me the boxes. "Thanks, Max."
"No problem. See you tomorrow," I replied.
Anne grinned again, then walked into the girl's locker room. I adjusted my uniform under my arm, making sure I didn't drop anything before walking towards the dumpsters behind the locker rooms.
It was quiet by the dumpsters, and the wind whistled slightly in the gap between the trash bin and the recycling bin. My sneakers were loud against the pavement, even though I stepped quietly. When I got to the blue recycling bin, I stopped to crush each of the boxes. When they were flattened, I shoved the lid of the bin up and stuffed the dented cardboard inside. As the lid crashed down again, the bang echoed in the narrow, windy passage.
Smiling slightly, I tucked my uniform securely under my arm once more and set off back towards the parking lot. Before I had gone four steps, a loud squeak rang out behind me. Strangely, it sounded like it came from inside one of the bins. I whirled around, my eyes searching the area.
It was deserted, except for a potato chip bag blowing along the pavement.
Frowning, I stepped back towards the bins, determined to investigate. What could have squeaked like that? It didn't sound like a rodent, however plausible that theory would be. It sounded more like a human making a strange sound than anything else.
I put my hands on the lid of the trash bin, staring intently at the black metal as I began to lift it up.
"Max!"
Ella's voice reverberated down the passage, and I let go of the metal lid, letting it crash back down on the trash bin.
"Max?"
It was Fang this time, standing at the corner of the building. He looked at me inquisitively, cocking his head. "What are you doing?" he asked, walking towards me.
I shrugged, taking my hands away from the trash bin. "Thought I heard something," I replied vaguely, waving towards the bins.
"It was probably your stomach," Fang informed me solemnly.
I scowled at him. "It was most certainly not my stomach, Fang! I heard a squeak!"
Fang shrugged. "I dunno then, but I'm starving. Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah," I murmured, following him back down towards the parking lot. When we reached the corner, I glanced back at the bins, sitting quietly at the end of the passage. The potato chip bag was still blowing aimlessly about on the ground. Nothing was remotely unusual. "Must be my imagination," I mumbled to myself, rounding the corner.
"Come on!" Ella urged me, watching as Fang and I walked towards her. "Fang's mom invited us over for a snack before dinner, and she hinted that it's pizza!"
"Pizza's a snack now?" Fang asked, sounding amused.
Ella nodded vigorously. "Pizza is any type of food you want it to be," she declared.
"Amen!" I shouted, startling a flock of pigeons on the flagpole. "Let's go get the pizza already!"
With Fang mumbling to himself behind us, Ella and I rocketed into high gear, sprinting towards Fang's house. When we arrived, we simply burst in without knocking, beelining directly towards the kitchen. "Hi Linda!" we chorused as we rushed into her kitchen.
Many people would have frowned, asked us to keep our voices down, take off our shoes, etc. But with Linda, she just grinned right back at us. "Hi Max, hi Ella!" she chirped. "Did you come for pizza?"
"Why, no, Linda, we came to look upon your beauteous features," I replied. Ella nodded vigorously in agreement. Linda just laughed as she slipped on her oven mitts. She turned to the oven, opened the door, and extracted a pizza pan from inside.
"Are you sure you didn't come for this?" she asked mischievously, waving a hand over the deluxe pizza.
I didn't even glance at it. Instead, I grinned at Linda. "Positive," I assured her. "We came to gaze upon the glorious wonder known as Linda Rianild."
"The very beautiful eyes," Ella sang, cueing my entrance.
"The lovely lips," I added, nodding sagely.
"The gorgeous tresses," Ella praised.
"The wonderful cooking skills!" I gasped out, before Ella and I burst out laughing, unable to go on any further.
Linda giggled too, swatting at our shoulders like we were her own children. "Just eat the pizza, girls," she ordered. "I can't take much more of your flattering."
"But it's all true, Linda," I insisted, seizing a pizza slice loaded with pineapple and bacon. Linda certainly knew how to cook, that was a fact.
"So, where's my delightful son?" Linda asked, ignoring me. Ella and I exchanged looks and laughed.
"We kinda ditched him on the way back," Ella started slyly.
"He'll get back eventually," I assured Linda. "It was just that he was walking and we were sprinting. Not a good combination."
Linda looked worried, almost irrationally so. "He's by himself?" she asked, her voice a higher pitch than usual.
I glanced confusedly at Ella, who shrugged. "Linda, Fang can take care of himself. Do you want me to go back for him?" I offered.
Linda seemed torn between keeping me safely in the house and not wanting Fang to be alone. "You wouldn't mind just peeking outside, Max, would you?" she asked, almost timidly. "I try not to worry, but when they were fourteen Fang and Iggy were attacked for no reason in the park, and I'm just paranoid that it might happen again."
I tried not to show my surprise at this new piece of information. "Of course, Linda. I'll go check," I replied quietly, setting down my pizza and walking towards the door.
"I hope you don't mind me asking," I heard Ella say behind me, "but who attacked Iggy and Fang?"
The front door shut behind me before I could hear Linda's response. I made my way carefully down the steps, feeling suddenly nervous. The atmosphere of the street, carefree and friendly just minutes earlier, now felt almost sinister. It seemed as if every bush and tree was watching me through hidden eyes.
I set off down the sidewalk, glancing around me every few steps. There was no sign of Fang, but if he had simply kept walking once Ella and I disappeared towards his house, he wouldn't be back yet.
I still couldn't shake the feeling someone was watching me. I hated walking by myself, my mind always went on overdrive. I would need to start running, just to calm myself down. It was harder to over think when I ran. Running usually simplified things for me, actually.
There was still no sign of Fang.
I tried to shrug off the ominous worry that was descending on me. Fang would be fine, I was just ruffled because of what Linda said. People didn't just go around attacking fourteen-year-old boys. Maybe they had just gotten pranked really badly, and Linda viewed it as an attack. That seemed much more plausible.
But I couldn't shake off the bad feeling I had. Even though I had covered a lot more ground since I began running, I still hadn't seen Fang.
He should have at least gotten here by now. Where was he?
This was beginning to feel ominously like a scene from a horror movie. I would be coming upon Fang's dead and mangled body any moment now.
I was just waiting for it to start raining, to complete the picture.
Feeling more and more nervous, I sped up as I ran back towards the school. I would be there in no less than two minutes, yet still there was no sign of Fang. Would I have to call 911? At that horrifying thought, I sped up even more racing around a corner.
Something tall and decidedly bony crashed into me, sending me sprawling backwards. I instantly cushioned my head with my hands, wincing as they hit the sidewalk and skidded hard against it. The figure landed on top of me, digging his elbows into the pavement on either side of me to stop himself from crushing my face in with his forehead. We lay there for a moment, panting, unable to move.
"Hello, Max," the boy said. "Fancy meeting you here."
I grimaced at the sound of his voice. I had been hoping that it was a very different person I had crashed into. "Hello, Max" I returned coldly. "Would you mind getting off of me?"
Max II smiled without any humor, rolling off of me and onto the sidewalk before standing up. "Thank you," I said shortly, sitting up and inspecting my hands. The skin of my knuckles was ripped and bloodied, and they stung atrociously.
"You know Max, I've been thinking," Max II began, sounding more friendly. "I acted kind of rashly before. I'm sorry about that. I was just, you know, upset that I hadn't made the team too," he explained.
I raised an eyebrow at him as I stood up. We were eye to eye, him having no height advantage over me. "Why did you make all those comments about Fang, then?" I asked, my voice expressionless as I studied his face.
Max II seemed earnest enough. "I was jealous of him," he replied dismissively. "I still am, actually." It appeared that Max II was waiting for me to ask why he was so jealous of Fang.
I had no intention of doing that. "Of course you're jealous of Fang," I scoffed, frowning at him. "Fang is everything you aren't, Maxi."
Max II scowled. "And what's that?" he asked, grinding his teeth. He didn't seem quite as repentant and friendly anymore.
"Nice, thoughtful, smart, and oh, good at soccer," I replied sweetly. Max II looked livid, and opened his mouth to spit something else at me. "I'm done talking," I cut him off. "Good bye."
And with that, I pushed past Max II and headed towards the school again. "You'll regret that, Max," he called after me, his voice sounding strangled. "I know people!"
"I do too," I replied loudly, not turning around to look at him. "Isn't it a great world?" I broke into a run, ignoring any further words Max II shouted after me.
After carefully turning the corner again, I spotted none other than Fang Rianild walking calmly towards me. "Hey, Max," he said when he saw me. "Where's Ella?"
I skidded to a halt directly in front of him, forcing him to stop walking. "What's up with you?" Fang asked, frowning slightly.
I just stared at him, opening and closing my mouth like a goldfish. Fang was still alive. He was perfectly fine. He wasn't bloody and mangled, only my hands were. "I have just had one of the worst experiences of my young life," I announced, staring him down.
Fang raised an eyebrow at me. "How dreadful," he remarked calmly. "Can we keep walking now?"
I snorted in disbelief, but stood aside to let him pass. We fell into step, silently walking the rest of the way back to his house. I no longer felt like I was an actress in a horror movie, but I still felt like I was being watched, somehow. I checked quickly behind us, every few steps, but no one was ever there.
Fang was eyeing me like I was ready to be locked up in an asylum, obviously confused by my paranoid behavior. I didn't explain.
We made it to his house without incident, and thankfully without seeing Max II again. Fang led the way back inside, and we walked into the kitchen. Inside, Linda, Ella, and Maria were eating pizza and giggling over something, while Lulu scuttled around on the floor, alert for dropped pizza. Linda was obviously not afraid for Fang's welfare anymore, but when he entered, she still leaped up and hugged him. "Fang!" she shouted, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "I was so worried!"
Fang cast me an alarmed glance, but I simply shrugged and headed back towards my pizza. I had done my duty to Linda, and was emotionally exhausted by my little excursion. Pizza was the answer.
"Mom, I'm fine," Fang said slowly, sounding very confused. "What's going on?"
"I was just worried about you walking all by yourself out there," Linda explained, releasing her son and peering anxiously out the kitchen window.
Fang stared at her. "Mom, it's barely five thirty. It's not even dark yet. I was perfectly safe."
Now that I thought about it, I realized that was true. There wasn't really a reason to be so worried. No one was going to attack Fang out of the blue while he was walking home from school. This wasn't a bad neighborhood in the least.
Linda waved away his assurances. "Pizza?" she offered. Fang silently grabbed a slice, obviously still confused by Linda's attitude.
"Max, you look exhausted," Ella commented, watching me slump over the counter. "Did you beat up a gang on your walk?"
I shrugged, holding my hands up in a 'I dunno' sort of way.
Ella's eyes widened at my actions, and she dropped her pizza on the floor where Lulu immediately began licking it. "Max! What happened to your hands?" she demanded, looking exasperated. "How do you always hurt yourself so much?"
"This wasn't my fault," I protested, as Linda started busting out a first aid kit. "It was Max II!"
"You got in a fist fight with Max II?" Ella asked incredulously.
Fang looked over at me, suddenly alert. "When did you see Max II?" he demanded.
I frowned at the mention of Max II's name coming from Fang. "We ran into each other about ten minutes ago," I deadpanned, smiling again at the irony.
Obviously, Fang, Ella, and Linda didn't get the joke. "Why are your hands all bloody?" Ella persisted.
"We crashed into each other turning a corner at a sprint," I explained, wincing as Linda squeezed a tube of medicine over my left hand and started vigorously rubbing it in. "I fell backwards, and was holding my head so I wouldn't crack it on the sidewalk. The backs of my hands just got beat up instead, no big deal," I insisted.
Fang was staring rather darkly at his pizza, as if he wanted to punch it rather than eat it. "Did he apologize?" Fang asked quietly, his voice completely calm, at odds with the expression on his face.
Immediately, Ella and Linda quieted down their background chatter, turning their attention solely to my hands. I looked at Fang, trying to ignore the stinging cuts on my hands. "What?" I asked Fang, even though I had heard him perfectly well.
Fang turned his attention to me instead of his pizza, his eyes hard. "Did he apologize?" he repeated, staring me down.
I didn't blink. "No, he didn't," I replied calmly. Fang's jaw clenched, so I hastened to add, "And I wouldn't want him to, either. His apologies mean nothing to me."
Fang's eyes softened just a bit, and his jaw unclenched. "He should have apologized," he muttered resolutely, switching his gaze back to his pizza.
I rolled my eyes. "It was just as much my fault as it was his. Anyway, can we not talk about Max II anymore, please?" I requested.
Fang didn't answer, but Linda chirped, "Well, your hands are taken care of now!" She closed the first aid kit and stowed it away in a cupboard.
I looked down at the backs of my hands, which were now swathed in bandages. "Thanks, Linda," I told her, picking up the rest of my pizza and stuffing it in my mouth.
"No problem, Max," she assured me. "More pizza?"
I swallowed and grinned at her. "Of course!" Ignoring Ella's snorts, I accepted the piece she gave me, taking an enthusiastic bite.
Pizza was the answer, after all.
O.o.O.o:O:o.O.o.O
Another Someone's POV
"She heard you?" the boss demanded, staring at the computer screen instead of at me.
I nodded, trembling slightly. "She heard us, but she didn't seem to realize we were the cause of the sound, nor did she-"
"She didn't see you?" the boss interrupted, switching gaze from the computer to me.
"No, she didn't see us," I confirmed.
The boss nodded, thankfully looking back towards the computer. "Good," the boss murmured. The boss watched the computer screen for a moment, then whirled around to face me again. "Then why did she keep looking around for you when you were tailing her afterwards?"
I winced. "She seems to have a certain sense of when she's being watched. It has been observed in her school here, along with the other she attended in Nevada in the last two years, and the ones in Nebraska, Florida, and New Jersey before that."
The boss laughed quietly. "Dr. Martinez certainly knows when she's being watched. She has always moved her family around when we've closed in too much for her liking. It appears she passed on that trait to Maximum." The boss laughed again, looking closely at the computer monitor. "And Fang too, is exceptionally perceptive."
I nodded, but my partner's fists clenched at the sound of Fang's name.
"Is there something wrong with me complimenting Fang, Maxwell?" The boss asked, turning to face my partner.
Max shook his head silently.
"Good," the boss snapped, turning back to the monitor once more. "Because I will be doing it often, it appears."
I brushed away the crumb of alarm that hit me at the boss' words. Fang could take care of himself, as could Maximum. And it was an honor to be so highly revered by the boss, after all. Both of them were very lucky people.
I tried to convince myself of that fact.
Okay, I have to admit I'm going a bit crazy with the SOMEONE'S POV's. They're just so fun! XD And I'm sorry to those who didn't like the idea that Max II was the other Someone. I had that idea from the moment I introduced him into the story.
Now can you guess who this Someone is?
Oh, and to those who were positive Max crashed into Fang, that was my original idea. But then I realized how cliché that was, so voila! Max II was the culprit instead. I'm evil. =P
Review please! I go and write more of the next chapter every time I see a new review! =D
Gazzy: it's true. -_-"
Lolz.
~TMI~