Second Miggy fic. I'm so obsessed with it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it. I'm not a good writer, so please take it easy on me.
PS: I do NOT own a freaking thing! I do not own Jeb, Max, Iggy or Angel. Thank you
"But dad! No! You can't do this to me!" I tugged on his arm as he was adjusting his blue polka dotted tie. My dad stopped and sighed sadly, looking away from the full-length mirror over to me. He set his palm on my shoulder, trying to calm me down. Keyword: Tried. I mean, as if.
"Max, I know you don't approve of this, but it's just for a week," he tried assuring me, but it just wasn't working.
"Dad, do you know what that douche bag did to me back in my freshman year?" He frowned at my choice of words, but I didn't really give a crap right now. "There's no way in hell you're bringing him into this house. You just can't." My dad looked beyond annoyed.
"You know what Max? I'm done talking. The arrangements have already been settled, the Griffiths are staying for the week. And, you don't have to talk to Iggy if you don't want to. There's always his five-year-old sister that you love so much." I smiled slightly as I pictured that little girl's long, blond little curls and her Bambi eyes that you just can't resist. But frowned again as I saw the strawberry blond come into view.
"I guess I could ignore him, but that guy keeps on talking to me, even if he knows that I want to kill him," I complained. Another sigh.
"Max, sweetie, you know I love you and I like to make you happy, but I've not seen my pal in months." Yeah, Iggy's dad and my dad are great friends. They even have a friendship bandana. You can practically call them BFFL's.
Ever since my dad had taken a job at California, they've been calling the other on the phone each week, keeping the other up to date about what was happening. I mean, every year, I've seen Iggy's dad come to visit us, but not the whole family came with him. But today is the day when we all see the Griffith's once again and their arrival is in two hours. My mom made me put on an actual freaking dress. And *gulp* makeup but with just blush, mascara and eye shadow. I made sure she put tiny amounts on my face, so it won't look too noticeable.
I sighed. I don't like being selfish, well, most of the time anyways. And since this is about my dad's happiness, I guess I should at least go with it.
"Fine dad. But don't expect me to greet formally. I hate that." He chuckled, signaling that he's happy about my not complaining anymore. At least, for the time being. He ruffled my hair, but seeing that he made my hair messy, the hair my mom took about an hour to prepare, he tried his best to make it orderly again. When he accomplished his goal, he smiled again.
"Good. Now I think your mom needs help in the kitchen. Maybe you should help her out." I nodded and left but before leaving, he shouted, "Do not help with the cooking though!" I laughed.
"No way in heck dad," I replied, before running downstairs to the kitchen.
XX
Ding Dong! Ding Dong!
The Griffith's were here and the food that my mom prepared smelled scrumptious as they were arranged on the table. Plates, cutleries and what not were arranged orderly on the table, two candles were lit up in the middle of it all. Flowers were also cut from the garden for this family friend reunion. Daisies, my mom's favorite flower, were set in a flower decorated vase in the middle of the lit candles. The dining table looked stunning as a chandelier was hanging above the table.
"I'll get it," my mom said to me as she set turned off the water faucet, walking quickly to the door, trying not to fall on her butt in her heels. I heard the door open and some muffled noises from the other room and I kind of felt nervous. Why? I freaking don't know why.
"Oh, let me get my daughter." I heard a clacker coming closer to the kitchen, guessing it was mom.
"Max." She gestured for me come to follow her. When I stepped out, I saw the whole Griffith family. Emily, Iggy's mom; Jacob, Iggy's dad, sweet Angel smiling widely at me but I avoided looking at Iggy.
"Max!" I was enveloped in a hug by Angel. Looking at her, she didn't look like five anymore. She looked a little taller than I once remembered. "I missed you so much!" She squeezed me tighter. She is the most adorable thing.
"I missed you too Angel." I hugged her back, enveloping her in a huge bear hug. Then, Angel broke away and started to reach for her mom's hand, who smiled at me warmly. I smiled back at her.
"Well, Max. You look taller and grown up from the last time I saw you four years back." She reached a hand to me. "It's nice to meet you again Max." I shook her hand warmly.
"It's so great to meet you again too," I said happily. We released after a few seconds. From behind Emily's shoulder, I saw my dad giving Jacob a man hug, both chatting away about the family and what was going on in their lives.
"Now that we've introduced ourselves, let's go have dinner. Max and I will help with your bags." She smiled at them and led me to where the bags were set on the ground. They didn't look too heavy so I don't think it'll be hard. My mom and I carried two for each and it turns out, it was heavier than it looked. But we managed to set things properly at the guest rooms. We had three extra rooms, so everyone had their own space.
When we were finished with the bags, we came downstairs to the dining table to see a laughing fest going on.
"And-and then the-the-milk came out of his nose!" Everyone began to laugh, except I can tell Emily, Angel and Iggy were pretending to laugh.
"Yeah. Good times," Jacob wiped a tear from his eyes that came from his laughing fest. Jacob playfully hit my dad on his shoulder and began to eat his casserole.
My mom sat next to dad so I was left to take the seat between Angel and Iggy. I grunted under my breath but took the seat there anyways. I grabbed a bowl of spaghetti and scooped some on my plate with a spaghetti scooper. I set the bowl down, asking politely for Emily to pass the bowl of marinara sauce. She gave me a nod and passed it to me. I scooped the sauce with a spoon and poured it on top of my spaghetti. I handed it over to Emily as she put it at its spot.
Conversation started to boom at the table. Mom was talking to Emily about spa treatments, dad and Jacob were induced in a conversation about the Super Bowl games, and Angel was whispering to her doll, Celeste, about secrets or something like that. That left me and Iggy here, not talking at all. I took a side glance at him. What's wrong with him? He hasn't even made a peep yet. He looked, expressionless. Weird. Where's the bubbly Iggy that I know and hate?
"What's up with you?" I heard myself ask. Immediately, his turquoise eyes turned to me. And then, the strangest thing happened. I was breathless. His eyes looked…stunning. Almost captivating. And—I mentally shook my head, wondering what the heck I just thought of.
"Huh?" he spoke. I rolled my eyes.
"You haven't spoken this whole time." He just shrugged.
"Just lost in thought." Whatever you say man.
"Well, you haven't eaten anything yet. What? Going on a diet after finally looking at yourself in the mirror?" Ok, you may think I'm mean, but I have every right to be. Every freaking right. Back in ninth grade, Iggy and I weren't exactly on good terms with each other. Why? Because ever since first grade, pranking was his specialty. And the pranks were mostly played on yours truly. Anyways, it's been going on for years now. Year after year, pranks, pranks, pranks. But in the ninth grade was the absolute worst.
First, he steals my diary and reads a few pages about my secret crush on Sam in the morning announcements. Then he steals my bra and hangs it on the pole for every guy and gal to see. I have been made fun of, laughed at and gossiped about for years in that blasted school, thanks to that jackass. So yeah. I hate this dude with a burning passion.
"Love your enemies as yourself," the Bible says. Well, it's impossible. There is no way you can't hate someone on the face of this planet when the world is so corrupt.
"Whatever you say to me Max, I'm not going to get mad. I deserve everything you say to me." I looked at him with disbelief. Who the hell does this guy think he is? Ninth grade, he pranks me constantly, laughing at me and then, the next thing you know, he's being…friendly. Friendly?
"Okaaay. What's gotten in to you Iggy? Are you getting a fever or something?" He just smiled at me but still had a serious look. Serious? There's never been a time this guy was ever serious about something.
"I just did some thinking over the years, and I feel like a total dick—"
"Which you were."
"—doing all that crap to you just for fun. All those people making fun of you, all because of me. I'm not expecting you to forgive me because I know that you're probably never going to forgive me for those times." His frowned deepened, probably thinking of those days. "But, I am truly, truly sorry for what I did." Even though I did appreciate the apology, I mean, after twelve years, it's about time he apologized. But, it just hurt too much.
"It's going to take more than just a 'sorry', James." I saw him wince as I said his real name. "Because of you, I didn't have any friends at school. Because of you, I got humiliated in front of everyone. Because of you, I've been called a lot of bad names and have been made fun of and gossiped about. Because of you, secrets that I've kept safe for years were spilled to the whole freaking school. Because of you, I didn't get the great school years my mom promised I'd have. You know what? You're right. There's no way I'd forgive you." I turned back to my food, picking up my fork and jabbing it into my food, twisting the spaghetti around my fork and took a bite out of the delicious food.
XX
After the feast and conversations, everyone was pretty much exhausted from the day. In my room, I changed out of my dress into my PJ's; a tank top and shorts. After changing, I left to the bathroom to get the makeup on my face washed off, with soap of course. Soon, I was done with wiping all the unnecessary waste from my face and wiped my face with a towel. When I stepped out of the bathroom, I heard footsteps. Turning left, I saw a dark figure coming closer to me. It turned out to be just Iggy, his hair messed up, in his pajama pants, and—Where the heck did his shirt go? I found myself standing still, just staring at his toned chest. Why now?
Just look away, Max. It's not hard. Just look away, my conscience told me. Not hard? Are you freaking kidding me?
"Hey Max," Iggy spoke in a soft, calm voice. I've never heard his voice sound so…warm.
"Um, hi?" I saw his shoulders sag and heard a sigh emit from his lips.
"Look, Max. What you said at dinner? It made me think. I…" He looked like he was at a loss for words. "Max. I'm going to do anything, and I mean anything you want me to do. No matter how much I hate it, I'm going to do it anyways. If it means at least making you happy because Max, I've barely seen you smile. And that was mostly because of me. I'm going to do anything you want." I looked at him…then at his chest, then at him…then at his chest again, then at him. Don't think I wasn't paying attention to his request by my actions, but man! I looked at his chest again.
"Are you going to answer me or are you going to keep looking at my abs?" I looked at him, giving off a smirk. I shrugged.
"Both. Anyways, sure." I saw a huge smile emerge on his face. And I have to admit, he looks, kind of, sort of…cute. You know what? Forget what I said.
"First thing's first, put on a shirt. It's really distracting." He chuckled but nodded, giving a salute.
"Anything you say ma'am." My eyes widened.
"Did you just call me 'ma'am'? I'm just eighteen. I'm not old! From now on, never call me that. Instead, call me… superior and oh-so-wonderful Maximum Ride. And always emphasize the Maximum part. It makes me seem stronger." I smiled brightly.
"Your ego is growing bigger and bigger but whatever you say superior, oh-so-wonderful Maximum Ride." I smiled but gave a chuckle at his solemn voice.
"Now go put a shirt on. Seriously." I turned around to go to my room, but stopped when I heard a soft, "Goodnight Max." I turned around to see that Iggy wasn't there, but still, I responded.
"Goodnight Iggy."
Like I said, I'm not a great author, but R&R. I want to know what you think. I accept criticism.