Ok I've done way too many of these pre-story things, so I'm just gonna give you a summary:
New story.
There's cussing so be warned.
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Love.
Review.
Chapter 1
My English teacher always had motivational posters hanging around her room, you know, the ones that are supposed to motivate us to do better? Well, there was always this one that stuck out to me. It had a sky background, with words written in black block-letters. It said:
Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let the pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness.
What it had to do with English class, I have no idea. When I asked my teacher about it, she said that it meant that I shouldn't let the hardships of life make me hate it. Well, I told her that was a load of bull crap.
When the world stuffs raw-meat in your locker, it's pretty darn hard not to hate it. When the world laughs and makes fun of you just for the fun of it, it's pretty hard not to become bitter. When you're sitting on the curb in front of your school, crying, it's hard not to let your heart become hard.
Don't worry dear reader; I won't bore you with the details of my tragic school-life. (All of middle school to be exact) Though I will tell you this; my life sucked, and I never want to go back to that.
Let me start off by describing what I was like back then.
My name was Maxine Martinez; kids at school called me Maxie. I had long, dirty-blonde hair that hung limply on my shoulders. Now, this wouldn't have been so bad if I had, say, blue eyes. Heck, green eyes would've been good too! But, alas, I was stuck with brown eyes; and not just any brown eyes, but poop-brown. (Sorry for the mental image)
I had dark freckles scattered over my nose and slightly onto my cheeks, which, again, would've looked good with other features, none of which I had. My face was complete with a mouth full of braces, all of which I acquired at the beginning of 6th grade. Unlike some people, it did not compliment me. At all. It just made me look awkward when I smile.
Now, onto my body. (Heads out of the gutters people) I wasn't technically fat, but compared to everyone else, I might as well have been. My thighs were chunky and I was super weak, not even being able to win an arm-wrestling contest. Like ever. I never really cared about labels, so I always settled for off0brand clothes that were sold a thrift shops and places like that. (which was one reason for the constant bullying)
Now, onto my life. Oh joy.
My life started out fine; I was that little shy 6th grader who didn't talk that much, not trying to hard to make friends. It started out as people would make a joke or two, picking at how I was such a loner. Then the small jokes turned into many jokes told by many people, and then it turned to everyone flat out making fun of me.
In 8th grade it turned ugly. I guess people started to realize that I might not be the same in high school, so they took it up a notch. People would shove me against lockers as they passed me in the hallways, one time even bruising my elbow so bad that I could barely bend it. One of the worst, I think, was when one of the queen-bitch's henchmen (an obnoxious, arrogant jerk named Fang) asked me out and started dating me. It lasted about two months, at which point I was actually becoming happy. Until the day that the high school had a football game and he broke up with me during half-time, via a microphone in the middle of the field.
Let's just say I didn't see how the game ended.
I know what you're thinking; why the hell didn't I fight back? Well, I'm not going to make excuses, like my school forbid fighting, I didn't want to lose a friend, blah blah blah. No. The real reason was that I just couldn't. I was scared to stand up to them, for fear life would become even worse. (Yea. I was an idiot)
So, when my mom announced we were moving a few states over for a job change, I couldn't be more excited. We moved a few states up to New York, (Virginia being my original hell-home) and I basically changed my whole image. Here's how it went:
I got my braces off.
I cut my hair.
I started playing soccer and running cross-country and track.
Said sports pretty much turned my legs into muscle machines, not even mentioning my biceps from all the pre-season workouts.
I dyed my hair (with Kool-Aid, of course) with different colored streaks, my current color being red streaks/tails in my dirty- blonde hair.
My short hair began to frame my face, making my brown eyes actually less shitty then they were.
I let my mother begin to buy me name brands. (she always offered, but I just never accepted)
New York, very surprisingly, gave me a super tan, actually bring out my Spanish roots. (From my mom of course)
And, last but not least, I changed my name. My mom actually let me do it, believe it or not. MY name is now Maximum Ride (if anyone ever calls me Maxie again, I'll give them nothing short of a painful death)
So, yea. Then, after a year, my mom dropped the bomb; we're moving back down to Virginia. (Curse the world!) And, to top it all off, we're moving back into our old house and I'll be attending the high school I would've attended if I stayed down here. (Again, curse the world and it's clichés)
We moved down here yesterday (about 2 weeks before summer ends, to be exact) So far, the only person that knows I'm back is Iggy, who, upon my arrival home, forcibly dragged me to the lake/pond at the end of our neighborhood and pushed me in, (fully clothed, might I add) saying that's what I get for leaving him alone for a whole year.
Now, after I pulled him in after me and tried (and failed) to drown him, I'm sluggishly walking back home, weighed down by my 10-pound clothes. My shoes made little squishy noises on the pavement.
"So, did you have any fore-thought before you decided to throw me into a 10-foot deep lake?" I asked, glancing to the side at Iggy's strawberry-blonde wet mop. He laughed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
"Well darlin, I just missed you sooo much!" He asked, (horribly) faking a southern accent. I punched his shoulder and cracked a smile.
"Ig, you suck at accents." He pouted at me.
"Well maybe Madame is just jealous." He said, faking a French, snooty accent.
"Or maybe Madame knows a fake accent when she hears it." I answered, mimicking his accent with implied fakeness. Iggy just rolled his eyes.
"Suuuuure." He smiled at me, a serious one this time. "It really is great to have you back though; I almost didn't survive 9th grade without you."
"Yea, I guess it's ok to be back; I mean I'll be able to see you all the time now." I said, attempting positivity. Iggy smiled a little, but then gave me a serious look.
"What are you going to do about them." He spit the word like it was acid. I knew exactly what them he was talking about, and I felt my face go hard.
"Ig, remember a year ago, when I said I'd make them pay?" I asked, not even turning to look at him.
"Yea."
"Well, that's exactly what I plan on doing." I said, my voice full of confidence.
"How so?" Iggy asked, clearly interested. I smiled at him, my anger fading a tiny bit.
"I still need to work out a lot, but it won't be that hard; I'll steal the queen bitch's boy toy, dump him on his ass, ruin everyone else, and then break Fang's heart." Iggy snorted and turned to me.
"Break his heart? How do you know he'll even go out with you? Won't he recognize you?" Iggy asked. I smiled giddily.
"That's the best part! I've changed so much in the last year that no one'll recognize me! Be honest, did you recognize me when you first saw me?" Iggy started smiling, realizing my plan.
"No, I didn't. So, how are you going to get all the guys in school, Ms. Ride?" He looped his wet arm through mine, and stood up straighter.
"Well Mr. Griffiths, I plan on becoming someone none of them will be able to resist." I smiled evilly at him and mimicked his movements.
"Sounds like a pla-"
"Maximum Ride! Why are your clothes all wet?!" My head snapped forwards, away from Iggy, and onto my mother, who was standing in our new/old driveway.
"Iggy pushed me into the lake." I quickly said. My mom turned her attention to Iggy, whose eyes were now darting back and forth.
"Iggy-"
"Uh, I just remembered I have to be someone, like right now. Or my mom'll get mad. Bye Max! Bye Miss Martinez!" Iggy said, running off down the street in the direction of his house.
"Wow, my first day back and my friends are already running away from me." I said, watching his receding figure. Mom just gave me a sour look.
"Go inside and change; I need you to help me unpack." She said while turning towards the car.
"Well since you asked so nicely!" I added with fake perkiness and strode into the house.
An hour and 20 boxes later I was sitting in my yard, staring at my old house. It's a pretty modest place; a two-story brick house with probably about ten windows on the front. The yard was average size, right now in its bright green prime.
God I love summer.
My room pretty much stayed the same, except that whoever had been living here for the past month had re-painted my white-blue room with some horrible hot pink color, which means I'll be re-re-painting in the near future.
I was suddenly pulled out of my thoughts as the steady thump thump of running feet began approaching me. I looked up, expecting Iggy, but instead saw a head of black hair jogging down the side walk.
A bile taste rose in my throat, and I felt the urge to spit. It was Fang. I'd almost forgotten that he played football; he must be jogging as a warm up for the season.
I'd also forgotten that he lived right down the road from me.
I scooted behind the railing on our porch, in an attempt to keep hidden. Unfortunately it didn't work, for I the little thumping noises soon stopped. I peeked out from behind the porch to find an open-mouthed Fang, one ear bud hanging across his chest. He was staring at me, and for I second I thought he actually recognized me.
"What?!" I finally snapped at him after about a minute of silence. He blinked, as if coming back to reality.
"Oh, sorry; you new to the neighborhood?" I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
"No duh." I said, speaking as if I was talking to a toddler. (Though with his brain I pretty much am) His eyebrows shot up and he chuckled a little.
"Who bit you in the ass?" He asked calmly. Oh crap, that's right; I'm supposed to get him to like me. I swallowed the bile in my mouth and smiled at me. (Cue puke)
"Sorry; I just uh, really didn't want to move." I said, hastily coming up with a lie. Fang pulled the other ear bud out and started walking up my driveway. Oh god no stop. Don't you dare walk up towards my porch.
And he did just that. Fang walked to the bottom of my porch steps and leaned against one of the post things at the end.
"I bet I could change your mind." (Oh god puke) HE flashed me a smile. "Where'd you move from?" He asked. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from screaming at how close he was and answered "New York."
Fang stopped smiling and started looking at me differently. "New York?" He stared at me for a second. "What'd you say your name was?" He asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
Oh god, now I remember; on the last day of school the my homeroom teacher told everyone I'd be moving to New York. (for some odd reason, supposedly so everyone could "say goodbye") "I didn't; but it's Max." Fang's eyes grew a tiny fraction.
"Is that short for Maxine?" He asked, standing up straighter. My heart plummeted for a second, but I quickly recovered with a laugh.
"Oh god no! It's short for Maximum. Maximum Ride." I said while laughing a little. Fang visibly calmed, tilting to lean against the post again. (Brain of toddler)
"Maximum? Well that's different." I smiled at him.
"Well, normal's boring; what's your name?" I asked, arranging my features so I would look interested. Fang flashed a smile at me.
"Wouldn't you like to know; it's Fang." I pointed at him and laughed.
"See, that's not a normal name; it's different." Fang chuckled a little.
"Yea, you could say that. What school are you going to?"
"Tate high; I'll be a sophomore. You?" Fang gave a half-smile.
"Same. Maybe I'll see you on Monday?" He said, referring to the first day. (For some reason he gods of torture decided to have school start on a Monday)
"Maybe; hey, I've gotta go; my mom's making dinner and it'll be ready soon." Fakest excuse ever. Luckily Fang bought it with his toddler-brain and nodded.
"That's cool; maybe I'll see you before school starts?" He asked, sounding a little hopeful.
"Maybe. Bye Fang." I stood up, brushed off my jeans, and walked towards the door as Fang plugged his ear buds back in. The second his tall form disappeared from view, I kicked at the porch railing.
God I hate him so much; he put me through hell in middle school. I just want to wring his neck. I'm surprised I didn't.
I stood on the porch, clenching and un-clenching my fists.
"Max! Time for dinner!"
Right on cue.
So, what's you think? Yea, I know there's a lot of cussing, but I'm trying to express how much Max has changed and how mad she's gotten. I hope you come back for the next chapter, but until then, review!
