Authors note: Hey everyone! I actually doubt there's anyone reading this, but if you are, thank you so much! This is my very first ever fanfic, so I'm still trying to figure out the site, much less how to write well. Any kind of criticism is welcome, or any helpful hints. Wish me luck!

Chapter 1

My head snapped to the right as my nose detected the scent of heaven on Earth. In a daze, I floated over to the kitchen, in search of immediate satisfaction in the form of chocolate chip cookies. Not bothering to notice anything else, I started to shovel in the gooey goodness. Licking my fingers, I savored every bite, somehow knowing that this was a short lived victory. All of the sudden, a voice pierced through my haze of ecstasy. I couldn't understand what it was saying, but I recognized the voice to be Ella's. I looked over to see a strange, mutated form of her. She was a combination of an angry flight attendant, and my tanned, bubbly sister.

Another voice pierced through my groggy brain, but this time it was a hoarse, deep voice. "Hey kid!" It yelled angrily. Finally, my eyes snapped open and my ninja skills activated. Without even noticing it, I had gotten the man in a chokehold within seconds. Upon hearing him gasping for breath, and recognizing his uniform to be one of the Southwest Airlines flight attendant uniforms, I released him.

Amused by my talent to infuriate someone even in my sleep, I decided to test his limits further. "You could really use a breath mint. Guess you've been eating too much bad airplane food, tubbs," I said patting his rather rotund stomach.

I stood there for a few seconds, watching in awe as his face went from red, to purple, to an odd shade of blue. Knowing that this was pushing my limits, I rushed off without waiting to hear an answer. As I ran off the plane, I heard him shouting profanities, causing me to smile triumphantly. Ah, the joys of anoying people.

Very quickly after my little, uh, run in with the poor flight attendant, the reality of my situation and why I was currently running through the airport crashed down on me brutally. You must be irritated that I haven't told my story yet, aren't you? Well, as much fun as it is to annoy people, I guess I'll fill you in now. I guess you could say that the start of my troubles occurred when I was six. I know, I know, I had an early start, but what can I say? I'm a very advanced kid. Anyway, I was six when my dad walked out on us. I didn't actually witness it firsthand. But I heard the screaming and the door slamming. Oh boy, was there screaming. I think that soon after that was when I learned about sarcasm and the fine art of snark. Again, I'm a very advanced person.

If you think that must have been the end of my troubles, you would be mistaken, my dear. You would be mistaken because I am Maximum Ride, and I always seem to draw the short straw. However, I didn't have much to complain about for a while after that. I grew up, gained muscles, broke a few faces; don't laugh, I had my reasons. Things were fine until I was about seventeen years old. It was the middle of summer, in between my sophomore year, and my upcoming Junior year. School was supposed to be great for me that year. I was actually excited for it. I had been on the varsity soccer team since freshman year, star shortstop in softball, MVP setter in volleyball, and a standing ovation worthy point guard for the basketball team. Not to mention that they called me the mermaid on the swin team, and elastigirl in gymnastics. I did pretty well in school too, all A's. My friend group was tighter than ever before. I thought I was invincible.

But then Mom dropped the bomb. One day my mother came home from work (she was a Vet) with a scary mask of calm dominating her usually open, friendly features. All I really remember was the look on her face as she told us that she had ovarian cancer, and the scream of pain and anguish that erupted from Ella's throat. I had been silent throughout my mom's speech, knowing that Ella needed a rock, and I had always been that unshakable foundation for her.

Unfortunately my troubles didn't end there either. Soon after, Mom declared that Ella would go to live with the mystery godparents that we had never even heard of before. But there was no changing Mom's mind after she set it on something. I had to get my stubbornness from somewhere didn't I? So Ella left, but Mom had accepted the fact that she needed someone to stay with her until the end, and I had taken on that job, much to my mother's dismay.

Needless to say, mom fought the good fight, but eventually succumbed to the darkness, as we all knew she would, but were unwilling to accept. I would go into more detail about that, but I prefer to bottle up the emotions until absolutely necessary. Without me knowing it, before mom lost too much independence, she had written out her will, left everything to Ella and me, and had arranged for me to fly out to my godparent's house after her inevitable death.

So here I am, standing in front of some airport in California with two small bags and a backpack consisting of everything I owned. Not much, I know, but we had to sell a lot of personal items in order to pay the hospital bills. I tried to make sure Ella gave away as few things as possible, so I gave away the majority of my things.

Currently, I was waiting for this mysterious godmother of mine to show up and bring me back to her home, and Ella. From what my sister has told me over the phone, they have three sons and two daughters. Now you may feel free to stand in awe of my sister's brilliant powers of observation. Although, I probably would've learned more if I hadn't zoned out the second the words 'fashion', 'crop top', 'halter top', 'flare jeans', or any other obscure fashion term was mentioned.

I was suddenly broken out of my reverie when a motherly looking lady, mid forties or so, walked towards me and asked politely, "Are you Maximum Ride, Ella's sister?"

I nodded, relieved to finally meet someone I knew. Er, well, someone I knew of. But I was suspicious. "How did you know it was me?" I asked my face quizzical.

She looked at me brightly and said, "You look just like your mother." In a chipper voice, she said, "I'm so excited for you to meet my family! I'm Grace Stewart. Your mother and I were roommates in college. Here, let me take your bags, and we'll take off," at the thought of m meeting her family, the smile was no longer forced.

Not feeling particularly talkative, I just nodded and followed close behind my new guardian as she strode off towards what I assumed was her car. Unless, you know, she was a creepy ex convict, who needed a fast ride out of town and figured I would be a perfect accomplice. After all, I do have amazing ninja skills. In any case, she got in the driver's seat, while I jumped into the passenger's seat.

I guess my silence didn't go unnoticed, because, with amusement laced through her voice, Grace said, "Not much of a talker, huh? Well, you'll get right along with Fang, then."

Fang? She can't be talking about an actual Fang right? I assume my mother wouldn't have left me with a couple of certifiable loons. "Umm, is Fang your pet dog or something?" I asked, perplexed.

"Ella didn't tell you anything about our family?" Grace asked, disappointed. "I thought she would've at least told you our names," she said as she drove along the freeway. Grace sounded a little hurt that I didn't know anything about her beloved family.

"Actually, I'm sure Ella went on and on about you guys, but honestly, I zone out whenever fashion is mentioned," I admitted, allowing myself a short sentence. Before I had the weight of my mother's death in my shoulders, I would've been loud, proud, and sarcastic, instead of saying the bare minimum. I wasn't depressed or anything, and I'm still way sarcastic and stubborn, but I wasn't as loud anymore. Honestly, I wasn't as confident either, but you wouldn't notice that from the outside.

Grace laughed and said, "I'm the same way with Nudge. Goodness, that girl can go on forever about anything and everything, but I love her," I guessed that, Nudge was one of her daughters. Man, this family must have a thing for nicknames. Grace continued, "Oh and I'd better warn you ahead of time, Nudge has no mercy when it comes to dressing you up like a Barbie doll. Especially now that there'll be another girl older than her in the house, she'll go crazy. Not to mention the fact that you only brought two suitcases," she gave me a look that said 'good luck with that'.

I chuckled, assuming she was exaggerating. Later I would find out the she may have even been underestimating Nudge's capacity for dressing people up. Anyway, the conversation went on for a little while longer, but I soon drifted off to sleep, somehow exhausted from doing nothing on a plane for four hours. But this time, I dreamt that I was in the arms of a boy with a dark shroud hanging over him. Surprisingly, it was not a nightmare.