I looked at myself in the full mirror of my room at Mom's house and pulled a face. I was wearing a leotard, a pretty, sparkly, girly leotard. Why, you ask. Well sometimes having three preppy younger 'siblings' totally suck.

You see the Flock decided after we rescued Mom that what we really wanted more than anything was to chill out on a tropical island. We had it all planned out, well the kids did, me, Iggy and Fang just covered our eyes.

Gazzy wanted a bomb area big enough to house both a laboratory and room for huge explosions. Angel wanted to be in area with an underwater cave and a zoo. Nudge, well, she just wanted a huge room with a shopping mall in her closet. Luckily my mom put her foot down when they started to get into a volcano with helicopter access and told them that not only did no such island exist but that she absolutely insisted that we stayed with her for at least a term.

And get this, she meant a school term.

I said no, obviously. But somehow I got outvoted. I'm not even really sure how it happened but one second we were flying free in the air and battling Emgeeks and in the next we're sitting in a stuffy classroom and hearing some ugly teacher tell us about the sports program.

Which leads me to my leotard, my stupid sparkly leotard, which I would like nothing more than to set alight (not on my body) and throw at my evil sisters.

The sports program insists that everyone does at least 2 sports, including extracurricular and instead of just letting us sign up for what we wanted to do, they gave us these little pieces of paper asking us to list our hobbies, previous sports experience etc and then gave us a choice of three the most suited for us, apparently. This is completely untrue because there is no way that ballet, gymnastics or soccer are the most suited to me. I mean soccer, sure that's cool but ballet can you imagine me in a tutu.

The entire Flock cracked up, even Fang and wouldn't stop when they saw my stupid list and even my patented death glare couldn't get them to shut up.

And next comes the bit where the evil little girls come in. Under the cover of darkness (hey, the light was off!) they snuck into my room and took my list. Then they put it in for me. The next day I went frantic looking for it only to find my name proudly listed under BALLET and GYMNASTICS. I repeat ballet and gymnastics. Not even soccer.

Now I immediately went to the sports coordinator and told him that there was no freaking way I was going to prance around in a tutu or leap around like an insane maniac doing things that human body was not meant to do. And he said I had to. Even after I gave him my death glare, I must be losing my touch.

Today is my first day of doing gymnastics and they are going to be checking our skill levels.

"Cute." Says a voice behind me.

I yelp and turned around, sure enough, there is Mr tall, dark and silent, leaning on the door.

"It's not cute." I say, "It's evil, I mean come on, there are sparkles on this thing."

He smirks at me and I want to grind my teeth but think better of it. He'll only smirk wider knowing he's riled me up after all.

"Really though Max," he says, and something in his tone makes me look into his eyes. "You look good, cute." And get this, he's actually sincere.

"MAX." yells my mom from downstairs. "We need to leave, or you'll be late." As if I care, but I pull on my tracksuit anyway and walk downstairs, Fang following me. Everyone is downstairs; Gazzy is in his soccer gear -yeah he gets soccer- mom is going to drop him off too.

"Have fun Max!" chirps Angel and I glare at her, and again it doesn't work, what is wrong with me. At this rate I'm going to have to lock myself up in the bathroom for a day and practice.

Grumpily I sit in shotgun, slouching in my seat and scowling, I refuse to speak, after all I am doing this under protest and no one seems even slightly sympathetic! We drop Gazzy off first and then it's my turn. The sign above the entrance reads AllStar Gymnastics, I think Welcome to Hell is a more appropriate title.

The inside of the gym is bright, I walk over to the registration and sign in, then get directions. The person that was going to test us is Miss Joanne Churches. Sighing, I make my way up the stairs and into the main gym. It's insane, there are people everywhere, jumping, swinging, tumbling, balancing and stretching everywhere. The parents are sitting in an area off to the side where they watch their children do things, which, as I've already stated, they should not be able to do. I walk over to where a group of kids from my school are standing around a petite lady in a bright red shirt, looking so happy I can't help but wonder if she comes from another planet.

"And you must be Max." she says, "You're last here, go take your tracksuit off and put it in one of the wooden lockers then come back and we'll start stretching. Ok?"

I nod and shed my tracksuit then sit in the floor behind everyone else. Miss Churches as she tells us to call her goes through a myriad of stretches for all parts of the body. And weirdly I'm flexible, really flexible. I can do all three splits, I can touch my toes and then some, bridges with straight legs are easy as and my shoulders push back. Miss Churches is delighted. And it's really scary. Her perky smile grows wider as I stare at her.

"All right, now lets get into the real testing now!"

Great. Really.

Stupid perky smile.