Two Schools Out - Forever

123

After the Erasers had taken the inferior Max away from the motel, I quickly lay down in her spot and pulled the blanket over me. I closed my eyes, positive I wouldn't sleep a wink.

I was so hyped up-it was all finally happening. No way would I sleep... Out with the old Max, in with the new and improved Max. All according to plan.

"Wagh!" I woke up flailing, dreaming that I was being sponged by aliens.

My hand hit something furry and warm, and I felt the furriness jump away. Then I remembered: They had a dog. It must have been licking me. So gross.

I blinked slowly and looked around. The skeezy motel room looked even worse in the daylight than it had in the middle of the night.

"Max?" I looked up to see the little blond boy-Gasman, what a name-leaning over me.

"Uh, what?" I said.

"I'm hungry."

Showtime. Now I would see how well I could play Maximum Ride. "Right," I said, getting up. I was sore and stiff from sleeping on the floor. Now that I could see everyone close up, it was hard for me not to stare. They really were different from Erasers, from Ari. I didn't know how they could stand themselves.

"So, breakfast," I said, trying to remember the drill. "Does the, uh, dog need to go out?"

"We already went out," said the littlest kid. Angel. She cocked her head to one side, looking at me, and I gave her a big smile. Little weirdo. I had no idea why Max stayed with these losers. She would do so much better on her own. Every one of them was a ball and chain, holding her down. She should have dumped them a long time ago. But that was one of her weaknesses: She needed an audience, a pep squad. Someone to hold her hand and tell her how fabulous she was.

Anyway. There was a tiny kitchenette in one corner of the room. I went over and put a frying pan on one of the hot plates. "Okay, how about some eggs?" I said, looking inside the minifridge.

"You're going to cook?"

I turned around to see Fang, the older, dark-haired boy, looking at me.

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Not that hungry," Gasman muttered.

I didn't get it. The other older boy, the fair one, stood up.

"I'll do it. Gaz, you pour juice. Nudge, get out the paper plates."

"But you're blind," I said. He couldn't cook. Or was this some kind of joke?

"You're kidding! I am?" the guy-Iggy-said sarcastically. He brushed past me and turned on the hot plate. "Who wants scrambled?"

"Me," said Nudge, raising her hand. She dug out some paper plates and put them on the dinky Formica table.

Huh. Maybe because I was the leader, I didn't do stuff like cook. Well, I had to look busy, in charge.

"Nudge? Come over here and I'll fix your hair." I rummaged in a backpack for a brush. "We could do, like, ponytails or something, get it out of your eyes."

Nudge-another dumb name-looked at me. "You want to fix my hair?"

"Yeah." God, what did Max do all day? She didn't cook, she didn't fix people's hair. Did she just sit on her butt barking orders all the time? "Oh, and hey-you-off the bed." I snapped my fingers at the dog, who just looked at me.

"Why can't he sit on the bed?" Angel asked.

"Because I said so," I said, starting to brush Nudge's hair.

There was silence, and I looked up to see the other four mutant kids looking at me. Well, not the blind one, though his face was turned toward me, which was creepy.

"What?" I asked.