Free Fang: A Maximum Ride Novel by James Patterson

bear she’d scammed for, so long ago. And yet, she was still a little kid.
    He’d finally settled on a camera. And he hoped she would use it for good instead of evil. The first time she rigged it up in the boys’ bathroom, he’d take a baseball bat to it.
    And for Max — Fang smiled even as his heart began to pound a little harder. He hoped she would like what he got her. He hoped she wouldn’t say it wasn’t practical or whatever. But with Max, you never knew.
    It was one of the things he loved best about her.

31
    “IG, YOU HAVE outdone yourself,” I said, taking another bite of chocolate cake.
    Iggy grinned and cut himself a second slice, which meant there was only about half an acre of cake left, slathered with a couple bathtubs’ worth of icing.
    “You have to get the right proportion of cake to ice cream,” Gazzy said. “Each bite needs cake, frosting, and ice cream, all at once. It’s the combination that really makes it.” He managed to get his carefully loaded spoonful into his mouth before it dropped onto his shirt. Like the last one had.
    “And thank you to Fang for getting the ice cream,” I said, waving in his direction. “And the balloons!”
    Everyone chimed, “Thank you!” while Fang bowed.
    My happy, chocolate-smeared bird kids were relaxed, laughing, having the best time we’d had in — ever. It was the perfect way to celebrate our new house, our new lives.
    “Is it present time?” Nudge asked, bouncing in her seat. “I can’t wait anymore!”
    “Yes,” I said, and everyone cheered. So let me see: have party, massive amounts of cake and sugar, presents, etc., and I’m super popular. Insist on schooling, homework, education, and everyone hates me. Okay, got it. “Who wants to go first?”
    “Me, me!” Angel jumped up and rummaged in a paper grocery bag, pulling out small packages wrapped in the Sunday comics — one for each of us.
    I quickly ripped open the paper on mine, and something small fell into my lap. I picked up a necklace strung on a black silk cord.
    “It’s a good-luck charm,” said Angel. “I made it myself. I found all the stuff outside.”
    My necklace was weird and beautiful, not unlike Angel herself. “Is this a … snake jaw?” I asked. Angel nodded. The small, sharp fangs of a snake’s lower jaw spiked delicately among eagle feathers, bits of worn glass, and some ancient aluminum pop-tops from soda cans.
    “See?” said Angel. “It’s like you: kind of dangerous but really pretty and strong and unusual. See?”
    The bits of glass caught the light and glittered like gems. I nodded, really touched. “Thank you,” I said, and gave her a big hug, like old times.
    Each of us had a similar but unique necklace, and each necklace really reflected who we were. Fang’s was all black obsidian, the top half of the snake jaw, and some eagle feathers. She’d really put a lot of thought and work into them.
    “Now mine!” said Nudge, pulling out her wrapped gifts.
    I’d never had so many presents all at once, and even though I was a big fifteen-year-old now, I couldn’t help feeling excited as I ripped off the wrapping paper.
    Nudge had hot-glued all sorts of pretty shells and beads around a picture frame. It was gorgeous, too heavy to lug around, and totally not sturdy enough to survive even a light battle.
    “Nudge, it’s beautiful! I love it!” I told her. She threw her arms around me, and I realized that she had grown several inches without my noticing.
    “Oh, my, gosh.” Angel’s quiet voice got my attention. I looked over to see her holding a small digital camera, her eyes wide.
    “Who gave you that? ” I exclaimed.
    Angel’s face shone. “Fang. Oh, I love it so much! I’ve wanted a camera for so long. The first thing I want to do is take a picture of all of us.”
    “I can put it in my frame,” I said, holding it up. Nudge looked pleased.
    “Here,” said Iggy. “I made fudge for everyone. Didn’t have time to wrap it.” He held out