“Maybe you could teach me … some stuff,” said Dylan.

“Max is a good teacher,” Angel said with conviction. It made me feel worse about going off on her yesterday. She didn’t make up her pronouncements — just reported ’em.

“That’s an excellent idea!” said Dr. G-H. “Max would be the perfect person to teach you, Dylan.”

“Oh, well. I don’t know,” I said. “Like what?” Do not get yourself sucked into this, Max, I told myself.

“Could I see …” Dylan hesitated, then his face hardened with determination. “Could I see your wings? I’ve never seen anyone else’s.”

I thought about saying, You show me yours and I’ll show you mine, but I’d already seen his. I pushed a couple strawberries into my mouth and stood up. After making sure I had enough space — and I did, which shows you how big the Wonder Tent was — I shook my shoulders a little and unfolded my wings.

Both Dylan and Dr. G-H stared.

“They’re beautiful,” said Dylan, sounding kind of hoarse. “You really do have them … like me.”

I folded my wings and sat down, feeling weird but not knowing why. “Actually, Dyl, you have them like me. I’ve had mine for fourteen years. Or so.”

A smile played around Dylan’s symmetrical features. “Yes. I guess so. Either way, your wings are incredible. They’re perfect.”

Now I was really uncomfortable, and slathered some butter onto my fourth croissant. Suddenly I just wanted to get out of there, to get back to the others. I’d been sneaking food into my pockets, and my jacket probably weighed several pounds by now. I took one last bite and stood up again.

“Well, this has been fabulous,” I said, my mouth full. “But we better get going and perform more humanitarian aid.”

“Please, stay,” begged Dylan.

“Sorry, no can do,” I said briskly.

“Max, we have so much more to talk about,” said Dr. Seersucker pleasantly.

“Duty calls,” I said. “Ange?”

In a smooth movement, the doctor stepped between me and the tent’s entrance. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he whipped out a syringe. “Just a minute, Max. It’s not that simple.”

Chapter 15

15

I SMILED MY EVIL itching-for-a-fight smile, wishing I hadn’t stuffed my pockets with bacon. This could get messy.

“Max — wait,” Angel said. “He doesn’t mean us harm.”

“And you know this beca —,” I began sarcastically, then realized that she probably did actually know that. Dylan had a familiar alertness, a tensing of muscles that made me wonder if he’d been trained for battle. I guessed I would find out.

“Angel is right,” said Dr. G-H quickly. “This is my clumsy way of demonstrating.”

“Demonstrating what?” I was barely able to keep a snarl out of my voice. “How to get yourself beat up in one easy step?”

“No,” said Dr. G-H. “Demonstrating the wonders of modern science. Watch.”