Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports

11

We all stared at Fang. That was the longest statement any of us had ever heard him utter.

"We can't forget the mission," I began, just as Angel said, "Yeah! We need a home!"

"A home!" said the Gasman, looking thrilled.

"A real home, better than our last one," Nudge agreed happily. "With no grown-ups, and no school or school uniforms."

"A home with a yard and lots of grass," said Total. "No more of this pebbles-and-dirt crap."

Why was I the only one who needed to know what was going on, who needed to understand what had happened to us and why? After everything we'd been through in the last few months, now they were ready to just throw it all away? I mean, Angel's kidnapping, going to New York, the subway tunnels, the beach, staying with Anne Walker, going to that school...

Oh. Well, okay. So they might be a little tired of the fear, pain, and mayhem, but still...

"Iggy?" I said, trying to keep the pleading out of my voice.

"Let's see," he said, holding out his hands as if they were a scale. "Hmm. On the one hand, we have constant, desperate, heart-pounding escapes, day after day, never knowing what's going to happen to us or whether we'll even be alive the next day..."

I frowned, seeing where he was going with this.

"On the other hand, a home: hidden, safe, sleeping in the same bed every night, relaxing, not having to fight for our lives at a moment's notice..."

"Okay, okay," I said. "You don't have to rub it in."

They watched me, waiting.

What was with Fang? Why was he undermining me like this? I used to feel so connected to him, like he was my absolute best friend in the world, someone who always had my back. Now I looked at him and felt as if I hardly knew him.

Reluctantly I shrugged one shoulder. "Whatever. A home, whatever."

The ecstatic cheering only made me feel worse.