Angelica "Freak Two" Munson

Chapter 7

"Hey! Dickheads! How come the only people helping me out are Munson and this random girl?" Steve snaps at the younger boys, "We lose light in 40 minutes. Let's go. Let's go, I said!"

"Alright, asshole! God!"

"Okay! Stupid."

"You guys need to help with the barrels. I'll start with the gasoline." Angie orders as they get back to the group.

Once the gasolines been poured, Angie chooses to help Max with gathering scrap metal.

"Its getting kinda toasty out here." she sighs, removing her bomber jacket and placing it on the bus. That leaves her more exposed in her tank top underneath.

"Holy shit," Steve mutters as he approaches the girls, "You're totally ripped, Munson."

"What?" Max looks up for the first time to see Angie's unexpectedly athletic build, "When did that happen?"

"When did what happen?" Angie mumbles, getting insecure at all the stares.

"You don't participate in any sports." Harrington points out.

"So? I'm a freak. Why does that even matter?"

"Because, I'm saying you should. You could be such a fucking good athlete."

"Well, I'm not interested in being an athlete." she mumbles, stepping away to pick up another piece of metal.

"That's bullshit," Steve sighs, "Your hands, Munson."

"Fucking hell, Harrington. Stop doing that." Angie shrugs off the fidgeting and moves a large piece of scrap metal.

"Here, let me help you with that." Steve goes to help her, but she raises the heavy metal and carries it on her own, "Never mind, of course you can lift it by yourself."

"I'm a strong, independent woman, Harrington!" she calls over her shoulder as she drops the metal onto the bus.

"Yeah, yeah, Munson. I know."

"Hey, guy! Look what I found." Max yells, swinging an old metal bat, "Just imagine me using this thing to kill this thing... if it does actually exist."

"It does." The other four members say in unison.

Max looks between them all, "Okay, then."

"But," Angie takes the bat from her hands.

"Wha-"

"I'm older than you, which means its my responsibility to make sure you don't die... You're not going to need this because you're staying in the bus at all times."

"Okay, mom." she rolls her eyes as she boards the bus.

"Thanks, Max!" Angie calls after her, flipping the bat between her hands before swinging it powerfully.

"How did you learn to swing like that?" Steve questions, inspecting her.

"I used to play sports, Harrington. Lots of 'em." she replies in between swings.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Why'd you become so nosy, all of a sudden?"

"That's fair... Just curious is all."

"Yeah, well stop. You don't have to pretend."

"Pretend?"

"Yeah, pretend... we both know that as soon as we get back to our normal lives, you're going to treat me like shit. Just like you always do."

"I'm not pretending-"

"Spare me the details, Harrington. You're either an ass- King Steve- or you're not. But, I'm pretty sure you are."