Fang (Maximum Ride 6)
Page 69
It was propped on the dresser, by the door — a white envelope with my name written on it in Fang’s spiky handwriting.
My heart dropped somewhere around my stomach, and my skin went cold, as if I’d stepped into a freezer. Slowly I reached out and picked up the envelope. I opened the flap and pulled out a sheet of paper.
“Max? What are you doing? We’re gonna take a couple more photos,” said Nudge, swinging around the door. “Since we probably won’t all be clean at the same time ever again.”
I swallowed. “Is Fang out there with you guys?”
“No — he’s not in here?”
“No. I found this.” I showed her the note, and her eyes went wide.
“What is it?” Her voice was hushed and solemn.
Breathing shallowly, I unfolded the paper. I didn’t want to read it — like, if I didn’t read it, it would make it not be true.
But I was not a coward. Even about this. So I started reading aloud.
Dear Max —
You looked so beautiful today. I’m going to remember what you looked like forever.
Nudge put her hand over her mouth.
And I hope you remember me the same way — clean, ha-ha. I’m glad our last time together was happy.
But I’m leaving tonight, leaving the flock, and this time it’s for good. I don’t know if I’ll ever see any of you again. The thing is, Max, that everyone is a little bit right. Added up all together, it makes this one big right.
Dylan’s a little bit right about how my being here might be putting the rest of you in danger. The threat might have been just about Dr. Hans, but we don’t know that for sure. Angel is a little bit right about how splitting up the flock will help all of us survive. And the rest of the flock is a little bit right about how when you and I are together, we’re focused on each other — we can’t help it.
The thing is, Maximum, I love you. I can’t help but be focused on you when we’re together. If you’re in the room, I want to be next to you. If you’re gone, I think about you. You’re who I want to talk to. In a fight, I want you at my back. When we’re together, the sun is shining. When we’re apart, everything is in shades of gray.
I hope you’ll forgive me someday for turning our worlds into shades of gray — at least for a while.
I stopped for a moment, trying to breathe. The others had trickled down the hall to see what we were doing, and they were all crowded around Nudge, their faces shocked.
You’re not at your best when you’re focused on me. I mean, you’re at your best Maxness, but not your best leaderness. I mostly need Maxness. The flock mostly needs leaderness. And Angel, if you’re listening to this, it ain’t you, sweetie. Not yet.
I glanced at Angel, and her cheeks flushed.
At least for a couple more years, the flock needs a leader to survive, no matter how capable everyone thinks he or she is. The truth is that they do need a leader, and the truth is that you are the best leader. It’s one of the things I love about you.
But the more I thought about it, the more sure I got that this is the right thing to do. Maybe not for you, or for me, but for all of us together, our flock.
Please don’t try to find me. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, besides wearing that suit today, and seeing you again will only make it harder. You’d ask me to come back, and I would, because I can’t say no to you. But all the same problems would still be there, and I’d end up leaving again, and then we’d have to go through this all over again.
Please make us only go through this once.
My throat was closing up, my voice becoming raspy. I could think of lots of times he’d told me no. Nudge edged her hand into the crook of my arm, holding on as if we both needed support.
I love you. I love your smile, your snarl, your grin, your face when you’re sleeping. I love your hair streaming out behind you as we fly, with the sunlight making it shine, if it doesn’t have too much mud or blood in it. I love seeing your wings spreading out, white and brown and tan and speckled, and the tiny, downy feathers right at the top of your shoulders. I love your eyes, whether they’re cold or calculating or suspicious or laughing or warm, like when you look at me.
I started crying, like a big doofus. I couldn’t believe this. I wiped my tears away with the sleeve of my fancy dress.
You’re the best warrior I know, the best leader. You’re the most comforting mom we’ve ever had. You’re the biggest goof ball, the worst driver, and a truly lousy cook. You’ve kept us safe and provided for us, in good times and bad. You’re my best friend, my first and only love, and the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, with wings or without.
Now everyone was crying, even Iggy. We were all sniffing and wiping our faces, and I knew I was right: Reading this out loud meant it had really happened, was really happening. To all of us, not just to me.
Tell you what, sweetie: If in twenty years we haven’t expired yet, and the world is still more or less in one piece, I’ll meet you at the top of that cliff where we first met the hawks and learned to fly with them. You know the one. Twenty years from today, if I’m alive, I’ll be there, waiting for you. You can bet on it.