HAPPY MONDAY (NOT)! Hopefully this update can brighten some of your days. (:

You know what sucks? When you open your email and it says 'eleven new messages!' and you're like 'omg sweet I got a lot of reviews/alerts/favorites yayy!' and then open your inbox only to realize some author you subscribed to in seventh grade and no longer care about uploaded nine new chapters and you received alerts so in reality you only received one favorite on your PJO story and one favorite on your fictionpress story. Yeah, that sucks.

DEDICATED TO: coppercat100, for your lovely reviews! Lol, last time you reviewed you were only on ch10, so maybe you won't even get here for awhile to see your mention! (:-sigh-

The next few days passed in a whirl of annoyance, despair, and anxiety. I was still agonizing over Mike's connection to Max II. I was still stuck on my crutches, and managed to keep running into Max II almost everywhere I went, accompanied by none other than his Barbie girlfriend Frida. Gazzy was still moping about aimlessly. Nudge was still dating Dylan. And Iggy was still avoiding Ella, even though we ('we' being Fang, Nudge, Terra and I) now knew what was wrong and were desperately trying to convince him everything was okay. We had opted not to tell Ella the real reason for his moodiness, deciding that it would be better for Iggy to explain himself in person.

If he ever got over his little insecurities, that was.

See how stressful my life was? I could definitely use some sort of fancy Starbucks drink to unwind right now…

This week the Lynxes had no games, so thankfully I was spared the agony of watching them play any games I was physically incapable of joining at that moment. Wednesday was okay. Thursday, however, was not nearly as peaceful.

Fang and I still hadn't managed to crack Gazzy's secret of why he was being so down in the dumps, although we had tried many tactics. Gazzy welcomed any bribery gifts of Parmesan goldfish or chocolate, but wad simply enjoying our gifts without offering us any information in return. We had even tried getting Terra to attempt to flirt the answer out of him, a task she did not mind performing for us in the slightest. Terrs dressed up in the most attractive little outfit she possessed and cornered Gazzy upon leaving the locker rooms after soccer practice on Wednesday. To my understanding, I believe their conversation went something like:

Terra: -flipped her hair- Hey Gaz! What's up?

Gazzy: -smiled at Terra, glanced down hallway- Hi Terry. Have you seen Ford or Nudge?

Terra: -shrugged- Don't think so. I was wondering if you wanted to talk right now though.

Gazzy: -still looking down hallway- Yeah?

Terra: -nodded sympathetically, stepped closer and reached out to touch Gazzy's shoulder- Yeah. I noticed you were acting pretty down for the past few days, and I wanted you to know that you can tell me anything, Gazzy Richards.

And get this. She used her Doe Eyes on him. Beautiful, gorgeous big blue Doe Eyes complete with slow, innocent blinking of her perfectly mascaraed lashes. Those things were lethal; she could have you begging on your knees in front of her in a nanosecond. Terra could do Doe Eyes better than an actual deer!

And yet, what was Gazzy's reaction to a head-on collision with said Doe Eyes?

Gazzy: -distracted- Thanks, Terrs. Oh look, there's Ford! Catch you later!

And he jogged off to catch up with Ford, Lauri, and Nudge.

Unbelievable.

Understandably, Terra was crushed that she had so little effect on Gazzy. A large portion of time was spent afterward by Nudge, Ella and I comforting her with Ben & Jerry's and chick flicks. It was a very fattening and repetitive five hours that ended with us soccer players scrambling to finish our homework after Terra was finally placated. She had finished her own while we were at practice that afternoon, but we had no such luxury. I ended up staying awake until two AM that night finishing a nasty English essay and a useless, horribly time consuming history study guide. Along with the draining homework load, my back was aching from the stupid crutches and I was feeling sluggish and weak from drinking the stupid medicine.

High school sucked.

Medicine sucked more.

After Terra's failed attempt to flirt the answers out of Gazzy, we decided to admit defeat and let Gaz have his privacy for a little while. He obviously didn't want to share what was bothering him so much, so there wasn't very much that we could do to help him.

"You know, I'm the only one of us who hasn't asked Gazzy what's wrong yet," Nudge remarked abruptly at lunch on Thursday. It was only her, Iggy and I at the table so far, and we were waiting for the others to trickle in.

I paused mid bite of my bagel to think this over. It was true: Fang and I had asked at the beginning of Mission Make Gazzy Spill the Secrets, Iggy had slyly brought it up under the guise of discussing his own problems about Ella, Terrs had tried the flirting approach, and Ella had attempted to pry the answer out of him with frozen yogurt. All of us were completely ineffective. I shrugged. "I don't know if it would really make a difference at this point, Nudge," I replied honestly. "I mean, Terra couldn't even flirt it out of him. He barely paid any attention to her."

Iggy frowned, setting down his orange for a moment. "But Gazzy is your best guy friend, Nudge," he pointed out. "How could he have never mentioned anything about this to you?"

Nudge blushed dully, avoiding Iggy's sightless gaze. "Well…" she hedged, playing with her salad, "Ikindahaven'ttalkedtohimalotsinceDylanas kedmeout."

Iggy and I both stared at her.

"Can you repeat that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Her speed had been remarkable, even by her own standards.

Iggy was far more used to Nudge's chatter and blurted out squeals than I was though, and easily translated the Nudgenese into English. "That's not cool Nudge," he informed her disapprovingly. "Don't girls say some shit like chicks before dicks? You have put the boyfriend before your best friend. Unacceptable," Iggy proclaimed.

Nudge blushed even more, trying to glare at Iggy but apparently not having the heart to put out enough energy to make it effective. "Who are you to give me relationship advice, mister?" she demanded. "And besides, Gazzy isn't even a chick," she added weakly.

"Damn straight I'm not," Gazzy announced, plopping down right beside Nudge and making her shriek loudly in surprise. He grinned at her reaction, pulling her in a short hug against his side in greeting before letting go and starting on his lunch. "So why were you discussing my gender again?"

Nudge huffed, visibly aggreived. "None of your business, Mr. Moody Pants," she replied primly, crossing her legs and pointedly taking a bite of her sandwich as if to end the conversation.

"Oh come on," Gazzy wheedled, grinning and poking at Nudge's ribs with a baby carrot. "Just tell me."

"I would tell you if you talked to me about what you're so upset about," Nudge returned pointedly, brushing away his carrot and raising an eyebrow at him. Atta girl! That's a perfect example of how to turn the tables on a guy.

Immediately Gazzy's face shut down, all traces of humor instantly swallowed like pesto pizza in Iggy's hands. "Why do you all want to know so much?" he groaned, dropping his carrots and staring moodily at the tabletop. "It's not anything you guys can help me with. Especially not Nudge."

Nudge instantly scowled, taking it upon herself to punish Gazzy's annoying evasive tactics with hurling a slice of apple at his nose. "Why especially not me?" she demanded, looking annoyed.

Dylan chose this moment to squeeze into the space on the bench between Nudge and I. "Hello!" he chirped, grabbing Nudge's chin and turning her face towards him. Nudge flinched visibly as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, obviously surprised by his sneak attack. Dylan's free hand flung itself carelessly towards me, creepily almost landing on my thigh. Eww.

Gazzy shot a distasteful look at Dylan, immediately standing up and slinging his legs over the bench to leave. "That's why," he announced cryptically, grabbing his lunch from the table and walking away.

Dylan looked at Nudge quizzically. "What was that about?" he asked, turquoise eyes wide and innocent. I itched to smack the look off of his face. Idiot.

"I… uh, I'm not really sure," Nudge mumbled, turning around and craning her neck to stare after Gazzy. "Gaz is in a bit of a mood right now. I should probably go talk to him…" Nudge made a move to rise from the bench.

Dylan actually pouted. "But I haven't seen you all day," he whined. I actually shuddered in annoyance at his disgusting, cajoling tone.

"I need to go talk to Gazzy," Nudge repeated, ignoring her boyfriend. "Catch you guys later." And with that, she got up and headed for the cafeteria doors Gazzy had disappeared through.

Leaving her annoying boyfriend behind with me and Iggy.

How kind of her. Considerate, really.

"Well not that I don't cherish your company, but I'm gonna go find Fang," I announced, jumping off the bench onto my good foot and grabbing my Crutches of Hell.

"Heyyyyy," Iggy whined, pouting in my general direction. "That's not fair. Stay with me!"

Dylan frowned slightly, obviously noticing that Iggy had said 'me' and not 'us'. That's right sucker, face reality. Neither of us want you here.

"Nah," I drawled flippantly. "Strangely, I'd rather spend time with my boyfriend than with two whining losers."

With that grand exit line, I started crutching away.

"Wait!" Iggy yelped from behind me. I paused, grinning, and turned slightly tp watch as he scrambled to his feet and vaulted over the lunch table. His knee missed Dylan's neck by only inches, and I smirked at the alarmed expression on Nudge's boyfriend's face. "Take me with you," Iggy pleaded, bounding over to where I stood.

I pretended to think about it. "How 'bout instead you go talk to Ella?" I suggested saccharinely.

Iggy's face instantly blanked, a fleeting look of distress ghosting his expression before dissipating into nothing. "I- uh, I don't think so," Iggy muttered.

I crossed my arms and glared at him, hoping that he could somehow sightlessly sense my wrath and cower. "That's it. We're going to see Ella," I announced, grabbing Iggy's arm and starting to tow him out of the room.

"Wait!" Dylan called from his seat at the table. "Where are you going, Max?"

"Quebec," I replied instantly, tossing the word over my shoulder before letting all sight and sound of Dylan get swallowed up by the crowd of the cafeteria.

"Quebec, eh?" Iggy remarked, popping into existence just behind my shoulder. "Shall I arrange our fake passports for the trip?"

"Our? Who said I was taking you?" I retorted, maneuvering my way out of the cafeteria. The noise level instantly dimmed as we left the crowded room and headed through the hallways. "You aren't leaving this country until you've explained yourself to my sister."

An instant frown spread across Iggy's face. "Maaax," he whined. "You don't understand! I'm almost three years older than Ella! Three years!"

"You're in the same grade as her, and you aren't looking to take advantage of her," I retorted. "So I don't see what the problem is."

Iggy tried a different tactic. "You're her sister though! Shouldn't you be angry if your sister is dating an older guy?"

"I would be if he was an asshole who dated younger girls so he could take advantage of their innocence," I answered honestly. "But even though you're an asshole Iggy, I know you're too afraid of me to mess with my sister."

This only prompted him to turn abruptly and smash his head repeatedly into a nearby bank of lockers. "Whyyy?" Iggy groaned, rapping his forehead against the metal with resounding bangs. "Why do I have to deal with this?"

I, on the other hand, remained unperturbed. I simply raised a cool eyebrow at my deranged friend, wondering idly how many brain cells he was losing by the second. "Because you were dumb enough to ditch my beautiful wonderful sister for a stupid reason?" I suggested innocently.

"It's not stupid!" Iggy finally yelled, stopping with the head banging. I started at his sudden raised volume, aware of everyone in the hall turning to stare. Iggy, however, had no qualms about piquing the bystanders' interest. He glared at me (or more accurately, a little to the left of my head. Iggy was good, but not perfect) with a look that could wither plants. "Everyone's laughing at me and saying it's silly, but it matters to me! I don't want to risk hurting her!"

Silence. I stared wide-eyed at Iggy, floundering for something to say.

It was right about then when I realized that one of the staring bystanders was Ella.

Well, damn.

"Iggy?" I ventured slowly, worried that he was going to have another explosion. I hadn't realized he was so unstable about this issue of his. Stupid me— Iggy didn't get upset easily, and this was obviously upsetting him.

"What?" he snapped back, unaware of Ella standing and gawking as he ranted. "Being worried about a relationship with a girl almost three years younger is a legitimate excuse for rudeness, okay? I don't want her to get hurt, and I don't want to screw with my feelings either. So just leave me alone about it!"

I opened my mouth again, attempting to think of a nice, subtle way to tell him Ella was listening and finding none. "That's okay and everything, Iggy, but…" I paused, trying to think of something. "You know we aren't alone in this hallway, right?"

"So?" Iggy muttered, crossing his arms rebelliously. "Who gives a damn who hears me anymore?"

"Um, I think you should give a damn," I suggested carefully, my eyes flicking between him and my sister. Ella stood there silently, unmoving as she watched Iggy's actions.

Suddenly, his face tightened, turning a peculiar shade of grayish oatmeal. "Ella's standing here, isn't she?" he bit out in a toneless voice.

I didn't answer. I didn't really need to, seeing as Ella had already detached herself from the small, gawking crowd of people and rushed over to cling onto Iggy's torso. Her head buried itself in his shoulder, but I could still hear her soft words as she spoke into his collarbone. "I thought you hated me," she murmured.

Iggy's pale face only tightened further. He tried in vain to push Ella off of him, but it was obvious he was getting nowhere with that mission. "I don't hate you," he replied stiffly. "I just need space." Iggy tugged at the sleeve of Ella's shirt as if to emphasize his point. "Space that I'm obviously not getting."

I was a little annoyed by Iggy's rudeness, but before I could even open my mouth to say anything, Ella beat me to it. "You've had enough space to yourself from avoiding me since you found out how freaking old I am," Ella retorted. "You liked me perfectly well when you thought I was one measly year older, so why does it matter that I'm actually one measly year younger?"

Iggy set his jaw. "According to our real ages, I should be a sophomore and you should be an eighth grader," he informed her. "And I'm not comfortable with that."

"But we aren't a sophomore and an eighth grader," Ella insisted, her grip tightening around Iggy's body. "We're two freshmen who happen to be the oldest and youngest in the class. But we're still just freshmen. It's not that big of a gap."

"I'm almost sixteen, and you're thirteen," Iggy continued. However, he didn't sound quite as resolved as he had at the beginning of the argument, and his rigid posture was starting to sag.

"I'm almost fourteen, and you're fifteen," Ella countered immediately, copying his voice.

"You're impossible to reason with, that's what you are!" Iggy snapped finally.

"Only because you aren't being reasonable!" Ella retorted at once. "Come on Iggy, listen to me. Do you know how much it hurts that finally there's a guy I like who likes me back, and suddenly he finds out I'm a year younger and decides to avoid me." Ella blinked furiously, stepping back to tilt her chin up defiantly and glare at Iggy with suspiciously bright eyes. "Whenever we go to new schools, it's practically always the same routine. I make friends with the girls, and all the guys beeline straight for Max. No guy ever looks at me."

I felt my jaw drop in disbelief, my stomach growing cold with shock. Is that what Ella thought? What was she talking about?

Wait a second… what guys? I knew for a fact that Ells was always an instant hit with her age group, while I had more social trouble due to my unfortunate innate tendencies to be sarcastic and rude. Due to this, I didn't usually have many friends. So what did she mean that guys went for me? Like hell they did!

My sister wasn't done yet though. "I always feel inferior, even though I know Max isn't trying to do that to me." Ella glanced at me briefly, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes. "She's just amazing, and everyone knows it. And everyone also knows I'm just… not as amazing."

And it suddenly pieced itself together, snatches of idle conversation that had wedged themselves in my mind.

"Do you think we'll make the team?" Ella asked suddenly, stopping in her tracks as she looked at me. I shrugged, continuing to walk. Ella frowned in reply, tightening her ponytail like she always did when she was agitated. I finally had to stop walking so she wouldn't fall too far behind, and turned around to face her. "Scratch that," Ella continued, her voice slightly sarcastic. "I know you'll make the team. Do you think I will, though? I mean, I've got a lot to live up to, with the amazing Maximum Ride as my older sister."

Ella looked approvingly at my flat stomach. "Good, now the shirt will look even better on you! It's great that you're so thin and lithe and muscled Max! I wish I looked like you..." she trailed off wistfully.

"You think I'm pretty? But you're gorgeous, Max!"

Even as far back as sixth grade…

I walked down the hallway of our current school, flanked by my newest friends Gary and Nolan. They were chattering to me about a combination of soccer and hockey, and I grinned and fired back responses as quickly as I could. I was glad to have found a few fellow sports fanatics so quickly.

Then we rounded a corner and managed to crash right into Ella and another petite blonde girl. Me, being the graceful person I was, went flying backwards on impact with my sister. I never hit the ground though, because Gary and Nolan had each managed to grab one of my arms and haul me upright again.

Ella wasn't so lucky. Her small friend could only lessen her impact on the ground, not halt the fall completely. As soon as I saw my sister on the floor I started shaking off my friends' hands to go help her up. Ella scrambled to her feet on her own though, eyes locked on Nolan as her cheeks went red.

Nolan didn't notice; he was looking at me in concern. "You okay Max?" he asked, blue eyes worried. "That was a nasty hit."

And before I could respond, I saw the hurt and disappointment crumple Ella's face. She turned quickly, pulling her friend along and disappearing almost as swiftly as they had come. When I asked her about it later, her only response was a falsely cheerful, "It was nice of Nolan to make sure you were okay. He's so great, isn't he? Of course he likes you, Max, you're amazing."

How could I have missed it for so long?

I had never thought that Ella was insecure in any way. She was beautiful, she was a great athlete, and wherever she went she made instant friends. I had definite times when I was the one who was jealous of her for her social grace, among other things. Why hadn't I noticed that she was comparing herself to me, and coming out dissatisfied? My stomach tightened unpleasantly. My beautiful baby sister had self esteem issues because of me. Because of me.

A sour rope uncoiled in my torso, squeezing up my throat and seeming to choke me from the inside. Okay, that was a real sucker punch to the gut.

Other people had joked about me attracting all the guys before, but I'd never even thought of it seriously before. What guy in their right mind would think my personality was attractive (well, besides Fang, but I couldn't exactly count him as in his right mind)? Who did they think I was?

"The one all the guys are drooling over. You have haters, Max, actual haters! Do you know why? Because you're so damn perfect!" Terra snapped.

They were only kidding… right? I was ridiculously far from perfect. It only took a look back at my violent history and a glance at my attitude today to answer any doubts. I wasn't perfect. No one was. So why was everyone trying to convince themselves that I was? Was I some sort of twisted scapegoat here?

Iggy stayed perfectly still through all of this, sightless eyes trained on Ella and a blank mask set on his face. As my sister started to wind down from her rant, her face tightened further and she had to sniff loudly to hold back tears. "So I get it if you're not into me anymore, I guess," Ella concluded softly, turning away from Iggy. "It's nothing new to me, honestly. I'll give you your space now Iggy, so… bye."

Before she could even take a step, Iggy had lunged forward and grabbed her upper arm. "No, wait!" he said quickly, noncommital mask shattering instantly as he spoke. "Ella…"

"I'm trying to give you the space you wanted five minutes ago," Ella replied pointedly, tugging at her arm. "I don't want you to be bugged by a little kid's presence, after all."

"I was wrong!" Iggy blurted out, sounding panicked all of a sudden. He let Ella peel his fingers off her arm, only to reattach them to her shoulders a second later. "Ella, it's been hell trying to ignore you. I didn't want to hurt you, but I thought- I thought-"

"What changed your mind so suddenly?" Ella asked coolly, attempting to swallow her tears. "My sob story about Max accidentally taking the limelight all the time because she's so inadvertently perfect? 'Cause if that's it, I don't need your pity."

Despite the circumstances, I couldn't help but feel proud of my little sister's strength. Atta girl!

But… I wasn't perfect. Almost a perfect antonym, really. Ells and I really needed to have a talk about setting her mind straight soon.

"No, it's because…" Iggy paused, then sagged visibly, as if his resolve had left him in a sudden burst.

"Because what?" Ella prompted impatiently, trying to rub her eyes with the back of her hand again while keeping up her strong front. "What could possibly have changed your ridiculously steadfast opin-"

"I've missed listening to your voice."

Silence.

"Oh."

"I missed you, Ella."

A small, choked noise escaped her throat.

"And I know I'm an utter loser, but you have to know that I was doing this for you. I didn't want you to feel forced into a relationship with me just because I'm older. I wanted you to be free to date guys your own age if you wanted to. I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable with the age gap. I wanted you to be hap-"

Iggy never got to finish his sentence, because my suddenly quivering sister had flung herself at him and stopped it mid-word with her mouth.

Iggy's lips stopped forming words, apparently too shocked to keep functioning properly. Instead, he leaned down and dropped his hands to rest on Ella's hips. A few catcalls sounded from bystanders, and I discreetly scanned the hall to make sure their little reunion wasn't about to get busted by any teachers. Luckily for the reunited couple, none were in sight. They were free to attack each other's faces for a little while longer.

Oh, eww. Was Iggy's hand in an inappropriate place, or was it my imagination that his fingers were creeping south? That's what I've always wanted to see: one of my best friends making out with my sister in a public hallway. Right. Definitely.

Why did I want them to get back together again?

I shook my head, turning on my heel and hurrying away from the scene. I seriously needed to set my priorities straight. What could get my mind off of the kissing duo?

Ah, nature!

I found myself outside, strolling along the school grounds in an attempt to find a suitable place to soothe my corneas of their recent assault. Nature was good, right? Flowers and deer and bunnies and crap, right? It would be worth the annoying strain of crutches on soft grass if I got the image of Ella and Iggy's reunion off my mind.

Of course, me being me, I found no bunnies. Only Max II sucking off Barbie girl's face as he pinned her against a tree.

"EWWW!" I yelled, unable to stop the reflex to sound my distress. The couple broke apart instantly, scrambling to find their disturber. When they spotted me, however, their reaction was extremely strange and frightening. Barbie/Frida grinned slowly, her smeared lipgloss sparkling on perfectly bow-shaped lips. "Well, who do we have here?" she purred.

Max I appeared to be barely restraining a dark scowl. "Max," he bit out coldly, "what a pleasant surprise."

"Not pleasant for me," I groaned, once more wishing my hands weren't full of crutches so I could smash my retinas out with a tree branch or something. "Why is it always me witnessing the PDA? It's always me!"

"Jealous?" Barbie/Frida asked sweetly, picking at a perfectly manicured powder blue nail.

"Of you sucking face with Max II? Never," I scoffed. The redhead in question scowled formiddably at my remark, but I paid him no mind. "Why are you even here, Barbie girl? Don't you have school?" I asked skeptically.

She yawned in boredom. "Playing hooky," was her nonchalant response. "No big deal. I wanted to see my boyfriend." Her hand crept not so innocently up the side of Max II's loose green t-shirt. His gray eyes flashed with something, probably lust for his bimbo of a girlfriend, and a hint of a smirk sidled up his face.

Oh God, gray eyes. They were just like Mike's. A hint sly wit, a touch wicked, and a whole lot of masked feelings. All in the face of a boy who had hurt me beyond belief, who had dug into me and made me hurt my own mind and soul with guilt and grief.

Okay, okay, that was enough. I just shook my head at the two, turning to flee before I became too overwhelmed with thoughts of Mike. "I'd wonder if someone was paying you two to date, but it makes no sense why they would, so it seems you two really are attracted to each other," I mused aloud, trying to keep my voice from wobbling at the memories of fifth grade bombarding my head. "So I'll be leaving you now. Buh bye!"

"Are those crutches giving you trouble, Max?" Max II asked suddenly, sounding smug. "I told you before that you'd need luck to come out against Frida unscathed, but I guess you didn't listen. And look where you are now."

What was that supposed to mean? "I'll pretend your little spiel there made sense," I remarked, crutching away towards the school once more. Jeez, way to be cryptic. When did he tell me I needed luck against Frida?

So much for nature.

Even though it was still fifteen minutes before class started when I slid into my seat in art, Fang was already waiting for me. Nobody else was in the room except for Ms. Rykitel deep in the art supply closet, our classmates probably still off enjoying their lunch still. Fang doodled absentmindedly on the corner of his notebook, a small frown disrupting his stolid mask. "Hey," I greeted him quietly, falling into the seat beside him.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, his head jerking up. The pencil fell from his fingers, doodling forgotten.

Damn. He knew me too well.

"Nothing," I tried to say, shrugging as nonchalantly as I could manage. "Why do you think something's wrong?"

"You're really pale and when you walked in you didn't make a single complaint about your 'stupid things'," Fang replied, gesturing to the crutches leaning in a quietly evil aura against the desk.

"Well…" I hedged, mentally cursing his perceptiveness. I hadn't exactly wanted an interrogation about my horrible lunch. A sigh crept past my lips as I realized there was no way around giving him an explanation. "Terrs is depressed because she thinks Gazzy doesn't like her, Gazzy was being cryptic, Dylan was really annoying, I discovered Ella has self esteem issues because of me, and I walked in on some serious PDA. But at least Ella and Iggy made up." It all escaped my mouth in a torrent that would've made Nudge proud.

Fang just stared at me. For a moment I thought he was going to ask me to repeat myself, but his only question was, "What PDA was this?"

I snorted sardonically. "A bit of Ella and Iggy and quite a bit of Max II and Frida."

"Frida?" Fang echoed, furrowing his eyebrows. "The Barbie? Isn't she supposed to be-"

"In school, yeah," I finished, scowling. "But apparently she has no qualms about cutting class to come make out with her boyfriend."

"Classy," was his only comment. Fang fell silent for a moment, then said, "Ells and Iggy are back together then?"

"Iggy has been properly convinced the age gap is fine," I confirmed, smiling faintly.

"Good."

"Yeah." I propped my elbows on the desk and leaned forward, resting my chin in my hands.

"So why are you so shaken up, Max?"

I looked sharply at Fang. He shrugged, black eyes locked on mine. "Those aren't good enough reasons to upset you," was his simple explanation. "You're too strong."

Ironically, that was enough for my walls to crash completely, and I had to bury my head abruptly in my arms to hide my crumpling face from view. Tears bit at my eyes, and I had to choke back a rattling sob.

A hand slipped around the far edge of my torso, making me feel about as substantial as a rag doll as it easily pulled me closer to Fang. He fitted his other forearm under my knees and gently pulled me onto his lap even as I continued to hide my face in my arms. "Hey," he murmured, letting me press my head into his chest and slowly stroking his fingers down my back. "There's no reason to be ashamed of dropping your mask in front of me. You don't have to hide anything, Max."

This only made the tears burning behind my eyes come flooding out by the dozens. Why was I so freaking emotional all the time now? I blamed the medicene, frankly. "My baby sister, Fang," I choked out at last, "compares herself to me, and isn't satisfied. And I never noticed she was beating herself up for not being 'as amazing as Max'. What kind of a sister am I?"

"A sister that cares so much about her sibling that it makes her cry when she hears that the sibling is upset," Fang murmured soothingly. His arms around me tightened, and I buried my head deeper into his chest. "A sister who would never hurt her sibling on purpose. Ever."

"But I did hurt her," I murmured into the front of his shirt, clenching the dark fabric in one fist.

"Not purposely," Fang reminded me. His arms tightened around my back, pressing me close to his body and tucking my head under his chin. "You would never do anything like that to her on purpose Max. Ella knows that."

It was quiet for a moment. "I'm not perfect," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. Hot tears still managed to slip past my eyelids though, leaking onto Fang's shirt. "I'm really not, Fang."

"I know," Fang replied softly, his fingers tracing a circle on the center of my back. "You aren't, and you don't try to be. You're just Max, the girl I love."

"Why are you so perfect?" I moaned, shaking my head in helpless confusion. Fang always knew just what to say to fill my insides with warmth.

"Well, I am a freaking amazing forward," Fang remarked slyly, his fingertips pressing gently into the side of my torso. "And I am devilishly handsome, with heavenly dress sense, dazzling wit, and-"

"Never mind, I take it back," I interrupted, grinning slightly. I could already feel the tears melting off my cheeks. Fang truly always knew how to cheer me up.

A rough-skinned hand cupped the side of my head and nudged my face up to look at him. "If it makes you feel better, I don't think you're perfect at all," Fang murmured. He pressed his lips to mine for approximately six sweet seconds before slowly pulling apart. Fang caught a tear sliding off my cheek on his fingertip, brushing it away and running his hand comfortingly down my shoulder. "And that's what I like about you."

The warning bell for the end of lunch rang, breaking the stillness. Without a word I slid off of Fang's lap and back into my own chair, wiping my wet cheeks off on my sleeves.

And the strange thing was, Fang thinking I wasn't perfect did make me feel better. So much better, honestly. There was no pressure from Fang, no pressure to measure up to his standards of perfection. I could be myself.

"Your shirt is wet with my eye persperation," I pointed out, gesturing to Fang's crumpled, damp shirtfront.

"Hey!" Fang whined playfully, his eyes still soft as he surveyed my face. "I like this shirt!"

"Just be glad I don't wear mascara," I retorted, managing a watery smile. "That stuff is killer to get out of cloth."

"Hey Max?"

"Yeah?"

The first student trickled in.

"You'll be fine. You just need to talk to Ella."

A second girl walked through the door, accompanied by her friend. They snagged a desk in the front of the room, still chatting.

"Thanks Fang," I murmured, smiling slightly as his hand caught mine under the desk. This meant that I was now forced to draw left handed, but you know what? That was okay with me.

Dylan walked in with an obnoxiously giggling short blonde girl, the latter of whom was clinging unabashedly to the former's arm. I scowled instantly, my eyes latched to the girl. "Now what does he think he's doing?" I growled, glaring at Boy Wonder.

Fang followed my gaze to Dylan, and an immediate frown dragged the corners of his mouth down. "Why doesn't he realize that having a girlfriend means he can't flirt with other girls?" he muttered. "The bastard's just lucky Nudge hasn't witnessed it yet."

"Girls? As in plural? Yet?" I probed, confused by the resigned look on Fang's face. "What are you talking about?"

"What I'm talking about is that I've seen Dylan with four girls other than Nudge this week, and he was being extremely friendly. I saw him chatting up a senior in the cafeteria at lunch yesterday, but then I got distracted by your little breakdown," Fang replied, his expression stormy. "My big brother instincts are starting to kick in. And when I say kick, I mean Dylan's ass."

"Nudge doesn't know anything?" I demanded, anger building up in my stomach.

Fang shook his head tightly. "They're all upperclassman girls," he explained.

I started to rise from my chair. "That's it. I'm gonna kick his ass," I announced, heading for the desk Dylan had deposited himself and the clingy girl in.

A hand snagged the belt loops of my jeans, tugging me backwards. "Not so fast," Fang ordered. "You don't need another referral to the office for fighting. Your mom has already grounded you for long enough."

I groaned. "Screw you and your damn logic," I moaned, sinking back into my chair.

Fang ignored my comment. "Nudge needs to hear about this and decide for herself what she wants to do," Fang told me, looking serious. His lip curled slightly, and he added, "Even though I'd like nothing better than to sock him in the face a few hundred times."

"I second the motion," I muttered. "I hope we're working with clay today."

"You hate clay," Fang pointed out.

"But I can pound out my frustration on it," I replied smoothly, a smile creeping onto my face at the very thought.

Fang sighed dramatically. "Why did I have to pick the violent girl?" he mused aloud to himself.

I grinned at him winningly. "It must be 'cause I'm so pretty," I informed him gleefully.

Fang snorted derisively. "Nah, that can't be it," he said decisively.

"Hey!"

I was sitting on a bench at the side of the soccer field, crutches stacked at my side and geometry textbook in hand. I was stewing over a problem that I couldn't quite focus on because I was distracted by the play on the field by my able-bodied team mates. My eyes involuntarily tracked the movements of the ball, my feet twitching and my legs jerking every now and then when someone missed a kick that I knew I could've taken easily. I had forgotten how frustrating being injured really was.

The Lynxes were playing a half-field scrimmage at the end of the practice, and Anne had positioned my fellow Cripple Crewers (Nudge and Ella) behind each of the goals to chase the ball if any shots went awry. Lauri and Ford were obviously above chasing shots past their own two posts. Once it was away from the net, the two goalie divas were no longer concerned with the ball.

I was forbidden from helping out in any way during practice, seeing as one foot was occupied with walking, the other was injured, and both of my hands were full of crutches. I was useless, and condemned to sitting on the sideline and attempting to finish my homework while my team mates played. It was torturous, and I bitterly cursed Frida for injuring me so. I was stuck on this extremely cold bench doing extremely annoying math homework instead of running out on the field where I belonged.

Gazzy scored another goal on Ford, making Nudge yelp as the ball hit the corner of the net right beside where she was standing. A hint of a smirk flitted on Gazzy's face as Nudge pressed her good hand over her mouth in embarrassment at her little shriek. "Gazzy Richards!" she shrilled, sending a glare at the tall blonde boy in question. "You did that on purpose!"

"Me?" Gazzy asked, pretending to be incredulous. "Why would I ever do something like that to you, Nudge darling?"

Nudge's cheeks flushed, and she could only scowl at him as she bent to retrieve the ball from where it had slipped through a gap in the net. Even I could hear the quiet, "Asshole," she muttered as she threw the ball back onto the field. Gazzy grinned and half-turned to mockingly salute back at Nudge as he jogged back to the midline. Anne pretended not to notice, a small amused smile on her face.

Practice ended with everyone lining up to shoot on goal, Ford and Lauri switching off as keeper every other shot. My resentment at not being able to get involved in the practice in any way multiplied tenfold when I saw that Anne was even letting my fellow Cripple Crewers shoot. My jaw dropped in righteous indignation, and I immediately voiced my displeasure. "Anne! Nudge and Ella get to take shots?" I whined loudly from the sideline. "Why can't I take a shot?"

My team giggled irritatingly as Anne turned to address my concerns. "Because, Max," my coach started patiently, adopting the air of a preschool teacher dealing with a tiresome toddler, "Ella and Nudge have wrist injuries, and their legs are still intact. You, however, have a sprained ankle and are on crutches. This inhibits you from taking any shots." Anne raised an eyebrow at me knowingly, as if daring me to argue with her logic.

So obviously I did. "I can put all my weight on my crutches and then shoot with my left foot so my bad ankle is still off the ground!" I offered, sending her a winning smile.

Anne didn't even bother to respond to my perfectly reasonable suggestion. She just turned back to the line and told them to carry on with the shooting practice.

So loving. So thoughtful. So kind to her injured players.

I watched moodily as my team mates either sank their shots, kicked them wide or high, or sent the ball crashing into Lauri's neon gloves or Ford's grey ones. Every time one of the goalies saved a shot, they would turn and smirk at the other in victory, as if they had some private contest going. Lauri and Ford were extremely competitive. They probably did have a private contest going on. I wondered vaguely what the prize was.

My suspicions were confirmed and question answered when, after saving the last shot of Juliann's, Lauri threw her hands up triumphantly and smirked at Ford. "I win!" she crowed, pointing at her fellow goalie. "Pay up, mister!"

Ford rolled his eyes, walking towards Lauri and then turning his back on her and bending his knees so he was crouching slightly. "For the record, you only won because I had to keep for all of Gazzy's and Juliann's shots," he stated.

"Oh please," Lauri snorted dismissively. "I had to take all three of Fang's and two of Rosie's. That's just as bad, so stop whining." Then with great ceremony, she hopped onto Ford's back, curling her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Ford sighed in resignation, hooking his arms under her knees to support some of her weight.

"We had a bet to who could stop more shots," Ford explained to no one in particular, noticing the rest of the team's quizzical glances. I smirked to myself, proud that I had guessed correctly. "Lauri's prize was a piggy back ride back to the locker rooms."

Anne just rolled her eyes. "You crazy kids," she sighed affectionately. "Well, since we don't want to have to make Ford run Death Defiers with Lauri clinging to his back, I think I'll let you guys off of running today."

There was an instant chorus of enthusiastic cheering. "Thank you Lauri!" Rosanna yelled, hugging her friend awkwardly as she clung to Ford's back. "I am eternally in your debt!"

Lauri just laughed, clinging to Ford's neck and burrowing her chin into his shoulder. A faint smile crept onto Ford's face, lighting up his dark eyes.

I stood up, shoving my geometry crap into my backpack and slinging it over my shoulders as my team mates headed over towards me to grab their soccer bags. With some difficulty, Ford managed to strip his keeper gloves while keeping Lauri balanced on his back, tossing them in his bag and then bending to pick up both his own and Lauri's. The Lynxes slowly gravitated towards the lockers, me chatting with Juliann and Liz at the back of the group as we walked over. I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings, and was surprised when suddenly everyone stopped walking and started hooting and catcalling instead. I craned my neck to get a better look, and a startled gasp/squeak/shriek/squeal escaped my lips as I caught a glimpse of Ford with Lauri no longer on his back, but cradled in his arms, and kissing her straight on the mouth. Lauri's hands, still encased in her keeper gloves, were knotted behind his neck, and her cleats poked out into open air as she lay bridal style in Ford's arms.

"Well," Liz said, breaking me out of my fascinated staring. "I was not expecting that."

"Why are there so many romances going on among my players?" Anne groaned, walking by with a resigned look on her face. "All of you seem to be interested in your team mates! No more inter-team relationships, please!"

I saw Danny cast a wistful look towards Nudge. She didn't notice, too absorbed in Ford pulling back and gently setting Lauri on her feet before grabbing her gloved hand and swinging it between them.

Gazzy brushed by me, his previously content expression suddenly replaced by the brooding one that had haunted his face for the past week. "It seems like everyone's coupling it up now," he muttered under his breath, blue eyes hard. "Wish me luck Max, I'm going to need it against all this competition." He glanced toward Danny, who was still sneaking peeks at Nudge.

Then it hit me, almost making the air physically rush out of my lungs.

As I started to move away again, I could hear Max II call out, "Good luck in your game today, Max! You're going to need it against Frida!"

As I forged away, I couldn't help but wonder a bit at Max II's strange farewell. Who the hell was Frida?

Now I knew.

Max II was dating Frida. Max II hated me now. Frida sprained my ankle. It couldn't be that… Frida hurt me on purpose?

Did Max II have some sort of vendetta against me? Yes, yes he did. Now my only question was… did he want me to get hurt? Badly hurt?

A chill rushed down my spine.

"Hey Max," Juliann said quietly, nudging my side as she noticed the frozen expression on my face. "Are you okay?"

Hell no.

Aha… review please? (: can anyone guess what Gazzy is so broody about?

I made my high school soccer team! YAY! And I've gotten more than one review telling me that School Days inspired people to try out for their own teams, so that really means a lot to me. I'm proud of you all! =D

~TMI~