“We won’t ask you to do anything you don’t believe in,” she said sincerely. “If, after working with us, you don’t think what we’re doing is worthwhile, then you’re free to leave, and you don’t have to publicize our cause.”

“You’re free to leave at any time,” Brigid said quickly. “The only reason you’re here is that Dr. Valencia Martinez recommended you. I took a course from her when I was getting my doctorate, and we’ve kept in touch. She called me a few days ago.”

That made sense. I still got a little thrill every time I realized that Dr. Martinez was my mom. That would never wear off.

“Okay,” I said. “We need to think about this and talk it over; me and the flock, I mean.”

“Of course,” said Michael. “Let us know if you need any more information. Are you guys still hungry?”

“We’re always hungry,” said Nudge.

“We need between three thousand and four thousand calories a day,” I explained. “When it’s warm.”

The scientists unsuccessfully tried to hide their surprise.

“Um, well, let’s see what we can rustle up,” said Brigid, leading the way to the galley.

“Thanks,” said Fang. “Appreciate it.”

I watched him follow her out the door, his dark head maybe six inches higher than hers. She looked back at him and smiled, and that’s when I got an icky feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Chapter 33

33

LET ME TELL YOU, it was cozy in the tiny galley, which was so small that Fang had to totally squeeze in next to Brigid on the bench. Just too freaking cozy for words.

Beneath Gazzy and Nudge’s excited chatter, I could follow the low undercurrent of Fang and Brigid playing the get-to-know-you game.

“You’re young to be a doctor,” he said, helping himself to a fourth sandwich.

“I’m twenty-one,” Brigid admitted. “Sort of whizzed through MIT, then got my doctorate at the U of Arizona.” She paused, thinking. “In a way, I understand what it feels like to stick out, to be different from everyone else. I finished high school when I was twelve.” She gave a self-conscious laugh. “People called me a freak. Even my parents didn’t know what to do with me.”

“That must have been rough,” Fang said sympathetically, while my eyes widened.

“Max?” Melanie was holding out a carton. “Would you like some milk?”

“Gross, no,” I said without thinking. “I mean, no, thank you. But Gazzy probably would. He likes it.”

“How old are you?” Brigid asked Fang.

I almost gagged on my potato chip.

“Fourteen. I think,” Fang said. “None of us are real sure of our birth dates. But we think Max, Iggy, and I are around fourteen.”

“You seem older,” Brigid murmured, and I shot to my feet, unable to bear this a second longer.

“I need some air,” I managed to get out between swallows.