I AM NOT Miss Savvy about romantic relationships. The only one I've ever really had was with Fang, and, I admit, it was kind of strange to fall in love with someone I had grown up with. So I was quietly freaked out about kissing Dylan. Eventually, it dawned on us that we were really hungry, so we'd flown back to the hotel together, only to find everyone walking down the street to a little crepe place on the corner.
I'd felt Fang's sharp gaze studying our faces as we sat down, Dylan's leg warm against mine, and I started to feel self-conscious. Then I remembered what Angel had said: he could stay and weigh in, or leave and keep his mouth shut. That made me sit up straighter, and I smiled at Angel as I asked her to pass the bread. I didn't know what all this meant, didn't know where it was going, but for the time being, at least I wasn't running away screaming. Which was progress.
After dinner (which was fabulous—ham and cheese and potato crepe), we all walked back to the hotel together. Angel and I fell behind and were talking quietly while the others went ahead. I was half paying attention to what she was saying and half reliving kissing Dylan.
And I'm sure you already realize what I didn't remember till it was too late: Angel can read minds. And she isn't too particular about who's mind it is or when she reads it.
She took my hand. I looked down at her and saw that she had grown three inches, like, in the past couple months. "I'm sorry this is so hard, Max," she said. "I know it's all confusing.
"And I know how much you love Fang," she said, surprising me. "But that just doesn't seem possible anymore, you know?"
I made some sort of strangled noise—I was getting relationship advice from a seven-year-old. Because she knew more than I did. A new low.
"Max, we know how much you've done for us," she continued, my mind reeling. "You've made so many sacrifices for us, risked your life so many times. In a way, letting Dylan love you is another sacrifice—one you would make not just for us but for the future of the whole world."
Okay, now I was seriously wigging out. Was Angel saying I should flit off to Germany and have eggs with Dylan? I mean, WTH?
"And," Angel said, pausing before we went into the hotel, "it's a sacrifice that you could even be happy with, someday. Dylan is a great guy. And if he really was made for you, it'll make everything so much easier. He truly cares about you. If you let him in just a little bit, he could easily love you."
I felt like I was going to faint or throw up—that's what talking about emotions does to me—but I looked down into her big blue eyes. She gave me a little smile.
"I wish I could help, Max. I wish I had all the answers. All I can do is tell you to trust your feelings. And don't worry about what Fang or anyone else thinks. Whatever you do, I support you. I'm here for you, okay?"
I so wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe she no longer wanted to take over the flock, to be the leader instead of me. "Believe me, Max," she whispered.
