What are you doing in there, waxing your mustache?” Iggy yelled, pounding on the bathroom door. I yanked the door open and pushed him backward hard, making him stagger. “I don’t have a mustache, you idiot!” Iggy giggled and put his arms up to protect himself in case I punched him. “And you know what?” I added. “You don’t have one either. Well, maybe in a couple years. You can always hope.” I left him in the hallway, anxiously fingering his upper lip.

Fang (sarcasticaly): Go pick out a tree and I'll carve our initials in it. Max: (screams and goes in the bathroom)

I'm going to turn fifteen tomorrow," i said, warming to the idea. "It's high time. I can't remember when i turned fourteen." (said by Max) If you get to be fifteen, then i get to be fifteen!" Iggy sounded indignant. i looked at Fang. "Wanna be fifteen?" His smile melted me. "Yeah.

I'm not a writer's writer. I'm not a craftsman. I could be, and that would be a one-book-a-year operation.

Excellent. They were flammable.

Fang! Angel?" i yelled, not even trying for stealth. i was storming the castle, not stealing the jewels.

It's okay, Ig." said Fang. "Just give it your best shot." Sometimes the Fangster is incredibly supportive, just not with me.