Fang," I said, my voice breaking. "Just live, okay? Live and be okay." With no warning, I leaned down and kissed his mouth, just like that. "Ow," he said, touching his split lip, then he and I stared at each other in shock.

I whirled around and saw no one. No psychotic mad scientists, anyway. "Jackpot, Max! Jackpot!" It was was Fang, and he was giggling hysterically. For those of you just joining us, Fang doesn't giggle. Especially hysterically. So for a second, this seemed like one of the weirder dreams of recent days.

Congratulations. The fact that you're reading this means you've taken one giant step closer to surviving until your next birthday.

Keep this in mind: there are no coincidences.

There's no such thing as a kid who hates reading. There are kids who love reading, and kids who are reading the wrong books.

And now I was trying to brush my hair,you know,when I thought about it,and looking at myself in mirrors,wondering if I was pretty.Pretty! A year ago,when my haair got in my eyes I hacked it off with a knife.The only thing important about my clothes was whether they were to stiff to move fast in battle. And Fang had been my best friend and an excellent fighter.

Beware the anger of a patient man.