A.N.: This is in honor of The Final Warning, which comes out tomorrow (YAAAAAY!!!!!!!!). Let's hope for lots and lots of Faxness.

I took first watch, because I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. So while Iggy and Gazzy curled up in the sand, I sat leaning against a palm tree, pretty much hating myself.

Once, I'd been the cold, logical one, the one who didn't let emotions interfere with decisions. The only one who could beat Max at chess, because even though she was smart, she was impulsive—while I was always thinking three moves ahead.

Now, it seemed like I'd turned into the king of stupid decisions. Everything I did was dictated by emotion—that emotion being, for the most part, insane jealousy.

It started at Anne's house, with Lissa. I groaned and closed my eyes for a second. God, that was so stupid. Just because I saw Max talking to some clearly lovestruck boy in the library, I decided to get back at her with the first girl who came along. Which Max didn't like, God knows why. She couldn't have been jealous or anything—I'd hoped at first that maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way about me as I did about her. Obviously, I was dead wrong.

Nooo, the one Max cared about was Ari, precious Ari. Not in a romantic way—ew—but she cared more about him than me, that was for sure. I just had to go and fall in love with the girl who didn't give a damn about me. The girl who would choose a mutant freak who tried to kill her on a daily basis—over me, her best friend, who would cheerfully die for her.

I clenched my fists, feeling my fingernails dig into my palms. I was getting furious all over again. Not at Max—I'd never been mad at her, even though I'd thought I was when I left. Really, I was mad at myself. This was my own stupid fault, my own stupid goddamn fault, for ever deluding myself that Max might care for me.

It was also my own stupid fault that I was here in goddamn California, missing Max like crazy. I didn't think that Ari would go crazy and try to kill the flock—not really. It was just insane jealousy—which seemed to be a problem for me—that made me decide to leave. Max didn't appreciate me, didn't love me, and she never would, so I should just get the hell out before I made an even bigger idiot of myself.

Of course, that made perfect sense at the time, but now I realized how stupid it was. All I did was turn myself into the enemy. Max probably hated me now, her and Ari. They probably had their own little club going, the Anti-Fang Club, because I was a jerk and a bastard and I split the flock up and ruined everything for everyone. It seemed like I was good at that.

What I wanted to do, more than anything, was fly straight back to Max and beg—on my knees, if necessary—for her to forgive me and let me back into the flock. Of course, there was no way in hell I would actually do that. She'd probably laugh in my face and then go strolling off, arm-in-arm with Ari. I couldn't just throw my pride away like that. If Max wanted me back, it was up to her to do something about it. I wasn't going to hang around where I wasn't wanted or needed.

Gazzy and Iggy wanted me here. They needed me. I could do stuff on my own. I had my blog, and tomorrow, we were heading to check out People magazine. I was fine. Max didn't need me. I didn't need her.

What was the point of kidding myself like that? Yes, I did. I needed Max like I needed food, water, air. Once, we'd been so close, we were like extensions of the same person. And then she kissed me on that beach in New York, and it felt—right.

But it was just because she was glad I was alive, and nothing more. I stayed awake at night, reliving that and wondering what it meant, while she forgot all about it three seconds after it happened. It was a fact I needed to get used to—she would never love me the way I loved her. She was always going to be the most precious thing in my world, and I was always going to be expendable. The only time she would ever say she loved me was when she was so drugged she couldn't think straight.

I could deal. I was Fang the Invincible, after all. I didn't need other people—or, at least, I didn't need most other people. I would love Max until the day I died, but no one had to know. If she ever missed me and wanted me back—unlikely—then I would be at her side again in an instant. And if she was really done with me forever, then I wouldn't force myself on her. I would stay away and let her be with Ari, if that was what she wanted. I could live with that. I was Fang—I could live with anything.

Even though it hurt like crazy.