Melanie had been sitting quietly in the art room, observing the conversation between Max and Phoebe with an amused smirk. She loved watching Max in his element—confident, sarcastic, and undeniably talented. While he often played it cool, she knew he took pride in his artwork, even if he pretended not to care.

Mrs. Matson smiled warmly at Max, her hands clasped together. "Which one of your masterpieces would you like to donate to tomorrow's school art auction?"

Max leaned back in his chair, a smug grin playing on his lips. "Gosh, Mrs. Matson, I don't know. There's just so many to choose from."

Phoebe scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh please, so many to choose from," she mocked, mimicking his voice.

Melanie, however, was already looking at his most recent painting—a strikingly detailed portrait with dark shadows and sharp, expressive strokes. "You should donate this one," she said, pointing at it.

Max glanced at her, his smirk softening. "You think so?"

Melanie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! You have this way of making your art look alive. It's so cool, Max. I swear, if I had any artistic talent, I'd try to paint like you."

Max shrugged, but he was obviously pleased. "Well, lucky for you, I have all the artistic talent. I could teach you... but it might take years."

Melanie rolled her eyes but grinned. "Of course, oh wise and talented Max."

Mrs. Matson clapped her hands together. "Well, whatever it is, Max, I'm sure it will bring in a lot of money for the school."

She then turned her attention to Phoebe. "Phoebe, when are you going to start your project?"

Phoebe straightened up, clearly proud. "Actually, I just finished it. I call it... Horse."

Melanie leaned forward to get a better look, but when she saw the canvas, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. It was... well, abstract, to put it kindly.

Max didn't bother holding back. "Looks like it was made by a horse."

Melanie let out a small giggle but tried to hide it behind her hand.

Mrs. Matson, ever the optimist, smiled at both of them. "Max—funny and talented. And Phoebe... always on time."

Phoebe groaned. "I don't get it. Why is art so easy for you and so hard for me? We're twins."

Max tapped his chin in mock thought. "Hmm, let's ask your horse monster." He picked up the canvas and pretended it was talking. "Throw me in the garbage, Max! Neighhh!"

Melanie burst out laughing. "Okay, that was pretty good."

"Max!" Phoebe huffed, crossing her arms.

But before the argument could escalate, Max accidentally knocked over a bucket of paint—and right onto Phoebe's painting.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Matson, I didn't see it there."

But instead of being upset, Mrs. Matson's eyes widened in awe. "It's... beautiful!"

Max and Phoebe blinked. "What?"

Mrs. Matson gestured at the paint-splattered canvas as if it was a masterpiece. "Even when you fall, you create magic. Take it in, class."

The other students leaned in, murmuring in agreement.

Melanie tilted her head and squinted. "...I mean, I guess I see it?"

Phoebe smirked at Max. "Ha! See? I can be artistic."

Max rolled his eyes. "Please. That was a total accident."

Grinning, Phoebe grabbed another bucket of paint and flung it at a blank canvas. The paint splattered everywhere, including onto Max's shoes.

"I call this one... 'How much do I owe you for those shoes?'"

Melanie gasped. "Oh my gosh, your shoes!"

Max slowly looked down at his now multicolored sneakers. He let out a dramatic sigh and looked at Melanie. "Well... I guess I'm an art piece now."

Melanie burst out laughing. "Hey, maybe they'll sell you at the auction."

Max groaned. "You know what? I'm done with art today."

Melanie just grinned, linking her arm through his. "Well, you're still my favorite artist."

Max smirked. "Obviously."

And despite the chaos, he couldn't help but feel a little lighter knowing Melanie truly loved his work—even when it ended up on his shoes.

As the commotion over Phoebe's accidental "masterpiece" settled, Mrs. Matson turned her attention to another section of the classroom, where Melanie had quietly been working on her own drawing. Unlike the chaos surrounding Max and Phoebe, Melanie had been lost in her own world, her pencil gliding across the paper in smooth, deliberate strokes.

Mrs. Matson's eyes widened as she approached Melanie's desk. "Oh... my goodness."

The rest of the class turned their heads. Max leaned over, curious. "What? What is it?"

Mrs. Matson picked up Melanie's sketchpad, holding it up for the class to see. The drawing was breathtaking—a stunningly detailed black-and-white piece of a lone figure standing beneath a vast sky, a single light shining in the distance. The shading was immaculate, the depth almost surreal, as if the drawing could pull you into another world.

Melanie blinked in surprise. "Oh... uh, it's nothing special. Just something I was sketching."

Mrs. Matson shook her head. "Melanie, this isn't just a sketch—this is art." She turned to the class. "This piece has depth, emotion... it tells a story without needing a single word. It makes you think—what is the person looking at? Are they lost? Are they longing for something? Everyone will see something different."

Max tilted his head, examining the drawing. "Okay... yeah, I see it. It's kinda haunting. In a cool way."

Phoebe gasped. "Oh! I see it too! It's like they're standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take."

Melanie's cheeks flushed slightly. She wasn't used to getting so much attention for her art. Drawing had always been a personal thing for her—something she did to express feelings she couldn't put into words. "I... I just like drawing things that make people feel something."

Mrs. Matson smiled warmly. "And that is the mark of a true artist. You have an incredible gift, Melanie. You should submit this to the school art auction."

Melanie hesitated. "Really? I mean... Max is the artist, not me."

Max scoffed. "Pfft. Excuse me, but I think I'm the judge of what's cool, and this is definitely cool."

Melanie laughed softly, rolling her eyes. "Oh, well, if Max Thunderman says so, it must be true."

Max grinned. "Glad you're finally catching on."

Mrs. Matson gave Melanie an encouraging nod. "You don't have to decide now, but think about it. Your art deserves to be seen."

Melanie looked down at her drawing, tracing a fingertip over the edge of the page. A small smile tugged at her lips. Maybe... maybe she would submit it.

Max nudged her playfully. "If you do, I'll bid on it. Might be nice to own something other than my own masterpieces."

Melanie laughed. "You mean you'd actually pay for my art?"

Max smirked. "Yeah. But only if you throw in a doodle of me as a superhero."

Melanie grinned. "Deal."

Max leaned over Phoebe's shoulder, eyeing her painting with mild amusement. "Wow. That is... certainly something."

Melanie, sitting beside him, tried to be supportive but couldn't hide her skepticism. "It's... abstract?" she offered hesitantly.

Max snorted. "More like disaster-piece."

Phoebe groaned, flopping onto the table. "Ugh! Why is art so easy for you guys and so impossible for me?"

Melanie shrugged, leaning back in her chair. "It's not about being easy—it's about what speaks to you. Maybe painting just isn't your thing."

Max smirked. "Yeah, maybe you should stick to—oh, I don't know—not making things that look like a dumpster fire."

Phoebe scowled. "Gee, thanks, Max."

Before Max could add another quip, Barb and Hank entered the room. Barb carried a clipboard, looking eager. "Alright, team, I hope you're all ready for the art auction! Hank, show them what we've got planned."

Hank puffed out his chest. "That's right, kids! I'm going to be the auctioneer!" He cleared his throat before launching into an exaggerated, rapid-fire auctioneer voice. "We got five, we got ten, do I hear fifteen? Oh, look at this fine art, folks, a one-of-a-kind masterpiece! SOLD to the highest bidder!"

Barb grinned. "See? It'll be fun."

Max snickered. "Yeah, fun for everyone except whoever has to buy Phoebe's Mt. Suckamanjaro."

Phoebe shot him a glare. "It's called expressionism."

Max tilted his head. "Oh, I'm expressing something—just not sure it's appreciation."

Melanie nudged him. "Come on, Max. Be nice." She turned to Phoebe with a gentle smile. "Maybe we can help? I mean, I could teach you some shading techniques, or Max could—"

"Max could what?" Max asked, raising an eyebrow. "Create the actual art for her?"

Phoebe threw her hands in the air. "Oh, great idea, Max. I'll just slap your name on my work and—wait. That actually might help me win."

Melanie rolled her eyes. "Phoebe, you don't need to 'win.' It's not a competition."

Max, however, grinned. "Oh, I love this. You want my talent? Fine. But it'll cost you."

Hank chuckled. "Max, you can't charge your own sister to make art for her."

Max folded his arms. "Okay, then. I'll accept payment in public humiliation."

Phoebe narrowed her eyes. "What does that even mean?"

Max smirked. "It means you stand in front of the entire school and say, 'Max Thunderman is the greatest artist of our generation, and I, Phoebe Thunderman, bow to his superior genius.'"

Melanie burst out laughing. "Wow. That is so you."

Phoebe groaned. "Ugh, forget it. I'll just figure it out on my own." She turned back to her painting and frowned. "...After I find a way to make this not look like someone barfed on a canvas."

Melanie smiled, shaking her head. "Good luck with that." Max groaned as he flopped onto the couch, his hair a mess and his hoodie slightly torn. Melanie, perched on the armrest beside him, raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, rough night at the zoo?" she asked, noticing the faint banana peel scent lingering around him.

Max huffed. "Turns out gorillas really like playing 'Max in the Middle.'"

Phoebe smirked. "So basically, your natural habitat?"

Max shot her a glare before turning to Colosso. "Not giving up yet, Colosso. I will post something devious to prove I'm not going soft."

Colosso snickered. "Will that be before or after your lilac-scented bubble bath?"

Melanie's eyes widened. "Wait... Lilac?"

Max threw up his hands. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you get used as a soccer ball, or me?"

Phoebe ignored their bickering and leaned in eagerly. "Max, I need to know—how do you come up with your art ideas? Do you think about them? Not think about them? Take bubble baths in front of Colosso?"

Max smirked, crossing his arms. "Phoebe, my artistic brilliance is not something that can be taught. My projects come from a place deep within my soul."

Before he could revel in his self-praise, a blur of speed whooshed past, and Billy skidded to a stop, holding a new painting. "Here's your latest art project, Max!"

Melanie blinked. "Wait. What?"

Phoebe narrowed her eyes. "I knew something was up! Billy, how exactly is Max getting these paintings?"

Billy grinned. "Oh, I just grab them from the dumpster behind the art school across town!"

Phoebe gasped dramatically. "So you're not an artist at all—you're a trash man!"

Max waved her off. "Hey, Billy's a trash man. I'm the guy who's gonna make more money than you at the art auction."

Melanie let out a short laugh. "Wow, how lazy. How despicable..." She glanced at Billy. "How quickly can you get me something better than Max's?"

Billy shrugged. "Depends. Max pays me in pizza money. What's your offer?"

Phoebe smirked and pulled out cash. "Here's twenty bucks."

Billy snatched it. "Sorry, Max, I work for Phoebe now!"

WHOOSH.

Moments later, Billy returned with a stunning vase, its intricate carvings shimmering under the school's fluorescent lights.

Melanie's jaw dropped. "Whoa, Max... I hate to admit this, but that is actually beautiful."

Phoebe looked equally impressed. "Wow, Max, it really shows your sweet, sensitive side!"

Max's eyes widened in horror. "That's a problem! I'll fix it!" He grabbed a marker and started drawing a mustache on the delicate artwork.

Melanie smacked his arm. "Oh my gosh, stop! You cannot ruin that—it's actually good!"

Meanwhile, Mrs. Matson clapped her hands. "Phoebe, take Max's vase to the masterpiece corner."

Phoebe smirked. "Actually, Mrs. Matson, I made this one."

Mrs. Matson's eyes widened in shock. "Really? It's stunning! Well, I take back everything I said about you in the teacher's lounge."

Melanie leaned in. "Wait... what were they saying in the teacher's lounge?"

Mrs. Matson ignored her. "You might be giving Max a run for his money!"

Max folded his arms. "Well, I gave somebody money to run."

Hank stepped up onto the stage, clearing his throat. "Alright, folks, welcome to the Hiddenville Art Auction! I'll be your auctioneer tonight!" He took a deep breath before launching into an exaggerated cowboy accent. "Goin' once, goin' twice, SOLD to Principal Bradford!"

Phoebe raised an eyebrow. "Um... why are you doing a cowboy voice?"

Hank grinned. "It's my auctioneer voice!" Then he switched to a very bad British accent. "I can also do a fancy-pants auctioneer if it pleases the principal."

Principal Bradford frowned. "It doesn't. I'll be over there... talking to the single moms. Joyce, is that a new sweater? Whaaat?"

Max barely paid attention, too busy glaring at his phone. "Ugh, something's wrong... I'm losing followers on Evilgram."

Melanie snorted. "Shocking."

Billy rushed back, looking suddenly nervous. "Uh... guys? I might've made a little mistake."

Phoebe, still admiring her vase, barely glanced up. "What kind of mistake?"

Billy rubbed the back of his neck. "So... funny story... you said you wanted something better than Max's. So I went to the Hiddenville Art Museum."

Max and Phoebe both froze.

"WHAT?!"

Melanie's eyes widened. "Billy, please tell me that's a joke."

Billy grimaced. "I wish it was... but, uh... we might have to return it before they notice it's missing."

Max stared at him. "Billy. You stole museum art?"

Phoebe paled. "Oh no. Oh no no no. This is bad—we have to get it back before—"

Suddenly, alarms blared through the school gym.

Melanie sighed, putting her head in her hands. "And there it is."

Max crossed his arms. "Well, this should be fun."

☆☆

The gym buzzed with excitement as parents and students mingled, eyeing the art pieces displayed on stage. Among them stood Phoebe, pacing back and forth, her arms crossed tightly as she shot daggers at Billy.

"Billy, you stole it from the museum?!" she whisper-yelled, panic rising in her voice.

Billy, completely unfazed, shrugged. "Relax, Phoebe, it's not worth much."

Phoebe's face contorted in horror. "Not worth much?! The sign said it's priceless!"

Max leaned against the auction table, smirking. "What's priceless is the look on Phoebe's face right now."

Billy blinked. "Wait. So... priceless means...?"

Phoebe threw her hands up. "It means it's really expensive!"

Billy frowned. "Where do these words come from?"

Phoebe groaned, gripping the edge of the table. "We could go to jail for stealing! We have to get it back before the auction starts—"

Before she could finish, a loud rap of a gavel echoed through the gym.

"Let's get this auction started!" Hank Thunderman announced, stepping onto the stage, his cowboy hat slightly tilted. "Yee-hoo!"

Melanie, who had been standing nearby, was still frozen in disbelief, her mouth slightly open. "I'm sorry, did I hear that right? Billy committed actual theft?"

Billy grinned sheepishly. "Museum's closed now, though. No take-backs."

Max turned to Phoebe, raising an eyebrow. "So, what's the plan, art thief girl?"

Phoebe glared. "We can't let anybody buy that vase! We have to get it back."

Max snorted. "We? Oh no, this is a you problem. As in, you stole from a museum."

Phoebe turned to Billy desperately. "Alright, Billy, it's up to us. As soon as I get that vase, you take it and return it to the museum."

Billy gave a thumbs-up. "Got it. Crime cleanup mode activated."

Hank cleared his throat. "Good evening, parents, students... Joyce." He winked at a woman in the crowd, flashing finger guns. "I'd like to introduce the only parent who would agree to be the auctioneer—me!"

A reluctant cheer followed.

Barb, arms crossed, called from the audience. "Hank, just sell the art already!"

Hank grinned. "Right, right! Let's get this evening started with..." He reached down, grabbed the first item, and held it up.

Phoebe leaned forward anxiously. "Not the vase, not the vase—"

Hank turned it toward the crowd. "—this beautiful vase, which was made by... Phoebe Thunderman?"

Phoebe's eyes widened in horror. "Oh no."

Max crossed his arms smugly. "Did you help her with that, Max?" Barb asked from the crowd.

Max smirked. "Nope. She stole it from a museum."

Phoebe let out a forced laugh. "Oh, silly! Don't be so jealous."

Melanie, still stunned, muttered, "Am I in some kind of fever dream?"

Hank nodded. "Alright, let's start the bidding at $50—do I hear $50?"

A hand shot up. "Fifty dollars!"

Phoebe exhaled in relief. "This is good. When Mom wins the vase, we can trick her into giving it to me—"

"Seventy dollars!"

Phoebe's head whipped around to see Barb raising her paddle. "My daughter made that vase, so you understand."

The other bidder nodded. "Oh, I totally get it. Eighty dollars."

Barb's eyes narrowed. "Oh, it's gonna be like that? Fine. One hundred dollars."

Hank sighed. "Can I get any bids from someone I don't share a bank account with?"

A voice from the back of the room called out. "One-twenty!"

Everyone turned to see a woman in a large sunhat waving her paddle frantically.

Billy nudged Hank. "She can't actually raise her hand, so does flapping count?"

Hank rubbed his chin. "Well, according to the official auctioneer's handbook—"

Barb cut in. "Hank!"

He quickly straightened. "Sold! To my wife, who is clearly the boss of me."

A round of applause filled the room.

Phoebe plastered on a fake smile. "Mom, you won my vase! Here, let me wrap it up for you." She turned, shoving the vase into Billy's hands. "Take this to the museum—I'll handle Mom."

Billy gave her a salute and took off.

Then, suddenly—

[CRASH!]

The gym fell silent as the shattered remains of the vase scattered across the floor.

Phoebe's mouth dropped open. "Oh no. My masterpiece."

Barb gasped. "Phoebe, what happened?!"

Phoebe stared at the broken vase, barely processing what just happened. "I don't know—it just slipped! But I'll make you another one! I promise! In fact, I'll go do that right now!" She turned on her heel, ready to bolt.

Max smirked. "Awww,