Class in Session - Chapter One

.ne Week Later:.

I hate to admit it, but…

Fang was right.

Again, I hate to admit it. But it was the truth. About both things.

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For the past week, I've been doing exactly what Fang asked. I've backed off Anne for the time being, and I've watched Iggy. And I didn't really like what I saw from both of them.

To start off, Anne was going full-out mom on us. She bought groceries every other day, cooked us huge meals, tucked in the little ones, reminded us of our homework, double checked our homework and worst of all… She assigned chores.

Chores.

No matter how many times you say that, it just doesn't sound natural. I hated them. I can't believe that someone had ever come up with the idea of making their child work. What horrible parents!

But, putting that aside, I was tolerating everything. I assume that normal kids and teens hate them as well, and that must have been the reason Fang wasn't getting upset with me for complaining about them.

Now, onto the Iggy problem…

He just wasn't…. Iggy and more. It was as if he wasn't all there. Sure, he did everything we all did; went to school, did his chores, did his homework, watched television. But that was all he did. He was lifeless, to some extent. He always appeared to be in off in his own world, and nobody could get him to joke like he used to.

Heck, he spoke monotone. Monotone! Iggy! I was beginning to worry about him having been replaced with an imposter. Maybe it was time for another conference with Fang...?

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"Fang?" I asked, knocking on his door once, and opening it. It was past midnight, and everyone else was asleep. I knew that I couldn't talk to him about Iggy during the day, or especially when Iggy or Anne were awake. I heard the rustle of blankets and knew that Fang had been sleeping as well.

Oh well.

"What d'you want, Max?" Fang mumbled hoarsly, obviously irritable. I dismissed that and sat down on the end of his bed, facing the door.

"Is that the way you're going to talk to me when I've done as you've asked for the past week? Maybe I won't share me valuable observations with you…" I teased him, playing up the information part. It wasn't like I had found the reason, but I knew something was wrong with our blind boy.

As I heard a growl come from somewhere in the bed, I decided to hurry up and get to the point.

"I've been watching Iggy. Now, I haven't come to a reason for why he's acting differently, but I know what he's been doing. I thought maybe we could, maybe, ummm…" I lost focus as I turned around. But who could blame me with what I saw?

Fang was sitting up in his bed, blankets and sheets pooled around his waist. He was shirtless, and the moonlight from the window highlighted his slightly toned chest. He had one leg propped up, and his elbow rested on it. Gosh, and the way his eyes were concentrated on me from beneath his dark bangs…

Wait a minute…

Was I drooling over Fang? Let me check… Yes.

Shaking my head slightly, I heard him speak.

"What?" he asked, arching a brow at me. What? What?! Holy crap, can he be more oblivious? I clenched my hands around the edge of the bed.

"Err, nothing." I frowned, trying to remember what I had come here about.

Oh, yeah!

"So, I've noticed that Iggy has been eating less, talking less, becoming devoid of all emotion and I've no idea what’s going on. I can't even make a guess, though maybe it has something to do with Anne—"

"Max…"

"'Cause she's, you know, all up in our faces—"

"Max."

"And she's been making us do those icky chores—"

"Max!"

"What?" I asked, completely bewildered. Why did he have to go and interrupt me?

"I know what’s wrong with him… I think…" Fang muttered, eyes downcast. Seriously? Wait, he can't hear my thoughts…

"Seriously? Then what in the good world could ever make you keep it to yourself? I mean, seriously! I've been freaking out for a week because you told me that Igg—"

"I know what I told you!" he snapped, eyes glaring down at his poor bed sheets. They did not deserve his hate.

Sure, when Fang had yelled at me, it hurt. But I knew I deserved it; he hardly ever yelled unless he had reason. He sighed deeply, and I lifted my head to look at him.

"…Look, Max, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I just… this isn't easy." He said, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning his head back onto his headboard.

"It's alright; I know you had a good reason." I smirked and turned on his bed so that we were face to face. "So… Are you gonna tell me now? Please?"

"As long as you promise not to squeal, or shout, or yell or anything like that. Got that?" Fang chuckled, his mouth curving up into an ever rare smile.

I nodded furiously, almost amazed that my head didn’t snap off in the process. He smirked again at me, that sneaky jerk.

"I believe that Iggy… might possibly be in love." I barely heard it at first. Fang had lowered his voice to an almost inaudible whisper on the last word, but I knew what he said. Shaking my head, I blinked in disbelief at these words.

Before I burst out laughing that is.

"That is ridiculous!" I kept giggling at him, snorting, unable to contain myself. I stopped as a pillow connected with my head, and in turn, I glared. "Funniest thing you ever said." I murmured, biting on my lip.

"Shut it Max, it's true. I know it is." He seemed to be forcing these words out, but that didn't stop me. I had to know how he knew this and I did not.

"Oh, yeah? How do you know it is true, Mister-Know-It-All?" I threw the pillow back at him, gripping onto the bed’s covers tightly. I needed to know this. Now.

"Because… I know how he feels." I felt myself tense and pale. Lisa. It had to be that little red haired minx. It just had to be.

"How would you know? Huh? Tell. Me. Now!" I demanded, eyes narrowing dangerously.

This was killing me inside. If only he knew what he did to me when he spoke about that girl, talked to that girl. Now he loves her? I don't think I’ll be able to continue seeing them together without attacking that redhead one day.

"Just drop it…" Fang sounded so tired, so frustrated. I knew that I should leave him be, but my stubbornness could never be rationalized.

"No! Tell me!" Sure, my voice was raising, though I'm sure anyone else's would too in this situation.

"Because I love you, Maximum Ride!"

Did I ever say how much this kid shocks me?

'Cause seriously, by now, I think I might-or should-have.

Against all the etiquette training I had gone through these past four years, I allowed my mouth to hang open.

And I stared.

Is that enough for me to be arrested for? Is there an etiquette police force?

"Fang-gler, umm, err… Uhh?" I stuttered gibberish, and I would not be surprised if my eye was twitching.

Or both eyes.

Or my whole body.

"I knew I should not have told you." Fang muttered before picking himself out of his bed, no shirt, and towards his bathroom. Before I even had to get up, he had already locked the door.

I took that as my cue to leave.

----

Dazedly, I made my way back to my room with only managing to run into three end tables, one of Angel’s toys, two door ways and a wall.

A new record, if I do say so myself.

I barely managed to open the door to my room, and I am pretty sure most of the house could hear me thumping and bumping around until I found my bed and flopped down on it.

Fang loved me? Me? Not Lisa?

How is this? How come I didn't see this coming? I mean, there had to have been signs. There always is.

And if memory serves me right, which it might not be doing right now, most of the time, nobody ever notices the signs about something like this.

But again, I repeat: Me?

Why? I’m not special, a least compared to him.

Sighing, I buried myself under my covers and pulled a pillow over my face. Tonight-well technically this morning—had been rather tiring.

And thinking back, Fang had demonstrated the same signs as Iggy.

Well, this would be an awkward next few days…

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