Never Gonna Change

There he laid in the darkness of his room, dreaming. The sun tried forcing its way in through the rather large windows, but his thick black curtains didn’t allow it entry. He wanted to sleep until the sun was gone from the sky. What reason did he have to get up?

For that matter, what reason did he ever have to get up? Or live.

It wasn’t like he thought about killing himself. The thought alone made him feel weak and stupid because his life wasn’t bad, not anymore. Even when it was, he never had the idea to end it early. He had been near death, and it scared him shitless.

There was a loud, excited knock on the outside of his door, so frantic Fang didn’t even have to ask who was there. If anyone woke him up, and there were only three people who would, only one of those three would do it like that.

Fang didn’t open his eyes. Actually, he squeezed them shut and let a breath out through his nose. Every part of his body ached, and he hoped with every fiber of his being that Nudge would just go away.

“I know you can hear me,” she said, and a giggle slipped through her pursed lips. “Psychic, remember? Anyways, come on, Fang! You’ve gotta get up! It’s not gonna be long before Ella gets out of school.”

Of course. How could he forget Nudge’s new ability that seemed to come out of nowhere? It would’ve been beyond handy when saving the world from the company that made them, but instead, it came after everything was all settled.

It didn’t make any sense.

Fang groaned before he could think to stop himself, and Nudge smiled. Even though she knew he was awake enough to hear her, she loved being right.

Fang rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Tell me again why Ella getting out of school matters to me?”

“Because my soon to be BFF is coming today!” she squealed.

He hadn’t forgotten that; Nudge didn’t let anyone forget that. She, at random moments throughout the day, would squeal and start dancing around, out of nowhere, because it wouldn’t be long before she met the girl that was gonna be her best friend one day.

Everyone tried to calm her down, insist that her acting crazy like she was would only delay the process, but Nudge somehow knew differently. And heaven knows Nudge didn’t know what the words “calm down” actually meant.

“And that means I should get out of bed because . . . ?”

“Well . . . .”

This wasn’t the first time she made Fang wonder. On many occasions, she made sure to remind Fang specifically about her new best friend that would be coming over soon. Friday. So insistent on making sure Fang remembered, but not everyone else. When he called her out on it, she shrugged and said, “You’ve been scatter brained lately. Just wanna make sure you don’t forget.”

Fang hadn’t been scatter brained, and he would remember just like everyone else because she would bring it up at least six times a day, usually in the form of telling Ella how jealous she was that she was already friends with her best friend.

This girl had made Nudge go off the deep end, so maybe that was the explanation to the madness. Nudge was just crazy.

“I want her to meet all my family,” Nudge finally decided, after taking longer than it should’ve taken to come up with an answer. Truth was, that wasn’t why Nudge wanted Fang up and ready when her future best friend got here, but Nudge decided that it was better if he didn’t know why.

Better if no one knew why.

Fang fell out of bed and hit the floor with a loud thud. In his head, he put every curse word he knew to Nudge’s name, and a few came out in almost silent grumbles. Nudge didn’t hear, but Fang didn’t really care if she did or not.

“Great, you’re up!” she exclaimed, and she shoved open the door without warning. The light from the hallway burned Fang’s eyes, and Nudge only made it worse when she flipped the light switch on.
Fang’s teeth clenched, and it took all of his willpower to keep quiet. He wanted to yell at Nudge, tell her to get out, but instead, he pulled the covers over his head and bit his tongue.

Nudge frowned at the dark pile in the floor. “Come on, Fang. You’ve gotta get up and shower. It’s almost two thirty.”

“Nudge, for the last time, I’m not getting my haircut today,” he muttered. “I’m not dressing up. All I’m gonna do is sit in my fucking room. She’s not even gonna see me unless she stays for dinner.”

Nudge didn’t like this answer. “You stink, Fang.”

Fang knew he was gonna shower. Not for Nudge’s friend, but for Nudge. It was the reason he had gotten a haircut the night before and the reason he had something a little less sloppy picked out to wear. This meant a lot to Nudge, and even if he liked to pretend he didn’t care, he didn’t wanna let his little sister down, ruin the thing she’s waited so long for.

“Go away.”

Nudge didn’t know about the haircut, didn’t know what was going through Fang’s mind. All she knew was sadness and anger. Why couldn’t he just shower for her? It wasn’t like he didn’t do it every day anyways. Was he doing it to spite her? That was how it seemed to her.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Have fun all by yourself for the rest of your life.”

Nudge knew how upset that would make Fang, but when she said it, she didn’t really care much. He had hurt her, too, over something so stupid and spiteful. A simple shower was all it took, but no. He couldn’t do that for her.

Fang didn’t say anything after Nudge slammed the door shut, mostly because he was in shock. Nudge had said that to him, one of the two people in the world who knew that was one of his greatest fears.

He knew she was angry at him, so he tried to brush it off as he stood to his feet and allowed his eyes to adjust to the extreme change in light.

When arriving in the bathroom, the sight of himself in the mirror almost made him smile. Nudge had been so specific when asking him to get his haircut, so specific she handed him a picture and everything, and he had their stylist get it the best she could.

She had done pretty damn good, but after sleeping on it for over fourteen hours, it didn’t look like it had the night before.

Fang got a quick but relaxing hot shower, brushed his teeth, and spent the rest of his allotted thirty minutes trying to get the style just right. Ella had gotten him some Axe styling cream a while back, and he never used it. With his shaggy haircut from before, it wouldn’t have made much difference.

This haircut was different—spiky, edgy, able to stand up in a way that Ella called “women’s bane.” I thought she was crazy, but it was worth a shot anyways.

He worried it would harden his hair, but after he rubbed it all through the front, he couldn’t even tell it was in there. It worked how he wanted it to, though. Maybe not in a way that would have women chasing after him, like the commercials got some people to actually believe, but maybe Nudge would be happy.

Sliding into the dark jeans he despised was a challenge. They weren’t skinny jeans, but they were tighter than the jeans he normally wore. Still, the girls all insisted they looked best on him, those jeans with a tight shirt that Fang was always uncomfortable in . . . .

Those jeans and a Panic! At the Disco shirt would have to suffice. He was more than willing to make sacrifices for family, but the tight shirt was pushing it for the day, especially considering what Nudge had said half an hour earlier.

Fang wasn’t one to hold grudges, so as he stepped out of his room, he didn’t even have it on his mind. Well . . . he did, but not necessarily that Nudge said it.

But what if she was right? What if he was alone for the rest of his life? He would be the only one, too, because everyone else either had someone or would.

Gazzy liked to say he would get some gorgeous supermodel with a big mouth. After Max went on a rant about how sexist he was, Fang realized that he didn’t want a supermodel. Hell, the girl didn’t even have to be beautiful on the outside. He just wanted someone beautiful on the inside, someone who would never hurt him.

He just didn’t think he could handle that again.

When he walked into the living room, where everyone was gathered in an attempt to calm Nudge down, they all got really quiet. Nudge calmed down, aside from the tears that fell down her face, and everyone but Dylan seemed to be in a state of shock.

Fang’s eyes widened a little as he looked at their staring faces, but he tried to ignore them as he walked past the high chair where Dylan was feeding little Henry.

Henry . . . Fang could never decide how he felt about the little guy. Usually, he didn’t like kids, but Henry was different most days. Then, some days, when Fang remembered why Henry existed . . . it wasn’t like he hated him those days, but he couldn’t stand to look at him. Because Henry existed because Max cheated on him. With Dylan.

Most days, however, Fang was able to forget because Henry was adorable. Fang hated that word, hated using it next to a baby’s name, but that’s what Henry was. Whenever Fang walked in the room, he got this huge grin like he didn’t with everyone. Sometimes, Dylan couldn’t even get him to smile, but Fang always could. All Fang had to do was come into the room, really.

In his head, Fang liked to believe it was payback. Dylan couldn’t make his own kid smile, but Fang could.

Fang ruffled Henry’s full head of curly blonde locks, and Henry fell into a fit of giggles. The peas Dylan was feeding him came back out and got all over Dylan’s face, and as Fang opened the refrigerator to grab a quick bite to eat, a huge smile spread across his lips.

Ha, bastard, he thought.

Nudge walked over and wrapped her arms around Fang. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t,” Fang said, and he did his best to slide out of her embrace on his way to the microwave. Ravioli sounded pretty good.

Nudge frowned. “You’re gonna find someone, but I hope she doesn’t like hugs.”

Fang smirked. “Don’t really care if she does or not. She’s not gonna get ‘em much.”

“You’re horrible,” Max informed him, but she laughed it off.

Most of the people in the room knew the awkwardness of her statement, but Fang was the only one who got mad and upset about it. His grip on the can tightened, and his jaw locked. Instead of saying anything, or moving at all, he kept his eyes focused straight in front of himself.

No, Max. You’re horrible.

Saying it in his head helped, and it allowed him to calm down enough that he could wipe his face of all emotion and heat up his ravioli.

Iggy watched him from the back of the room, watched as he took the bowl straight from the microwave, grabbed a fork, and disappeared back into his room. He waited for the door to close . . . but it didn’t. Fang turned on his music, started eating his ravioli, but he left his door open.

Iggy knew he had to talk to Fang. His idea was the best thing in the world for him, and even though it would cause a lot of drama and problems . . . it was exactly what Fang needed.

Somewhere else to go.