Hey there readers! First fic on my NEW account!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, blah blah blah. It all belongs to JP. OKAY so let the story begin!
Hope you all enjoy!
Max (POV)
I have one weekend to unpack all of my stuff into my new house before I have to start at my new school Monday morning. How I hate the word new. Especially when it comes before the word school.
I'm Maximum Ride, your typical New York City girl. Well, save for the fact that I was born without the fear gene. I have never felt fear before and never will, but sadly I still have all those other annoying emotions like sadness, loneliness, guilt, and self consciousness. If only those were away with fear, wherever that is.
For all I know, I have no siblings. I was adopted as a baby and have no memory of my parents. I'm not mad at them for that though; the family I live with now takes good enough care of me. Or, they try to. I guess having a 16 year old girl who fears nothing as your daughter can be more troublesome than a regular teenager, especially when said fearless daughter is home alone most of the year. Of course, they don't know I'm fearless. I'm not even sure they know how old I am anymore. . .
My adoptive parents are Amanda Seenling and Mark Seenling. They're gone most of the time, busy traveling the world or something. Whatever it is that rich people do. I only see them twice a year, on Christmas and Thanksgiving.
Being as busy as they are, they leave me home to fend for myself, which I don't really mind. There's just one little problem, I don't have any cooking skills what-so-ever. I basically live off of Ramen Noodles, Easy-Mac, canned vegetables, or any other no-effort-to-make food I can find. I would hire a chef, but that would leave me feeling helpless and needy, and Lord knows how much I despise that.
As much as I hate to admit it, I could actually use some help unpacking right now. . . If only a couple of NON-WEIRDOS would ring my doorbell and offer to help. Yeah, if only.
Fang (POV)
Why is that I always have to be the one to greet new neighbors? AND I have to bring Iggy! He's my brother, and I love him, but he can be SO ANNOYING sometimes. Anyways, Nudge and Angel never go, they just widen their eyes, bat their little eyelashes, and talk their way out of it using their "13 year old charm".
"Faaaaaang! I don't waaaannnaaa gooooo!" Iggy whines while we walk out the door.
"Just think about bacon, Iggy. Go to your happy little bacon world. . ." I reply.
Iggy has this weird bacon craving thing going on, and thinking about bacon always makes him happier (not to mention it makes him shut up too). Such a weird 15 year old.
I look down at the box of brownies I'm carrying, fighting the temptation to pop one into my mouth. No Fang, I scold myself mentally, they're for your new neighbor.
I haven't even met the girl yet and I already hate her. She's some rich adopted girl from New York City, most likely a stuck-up bitch. Definitely does not deserve this box of delicious-looking brownies made by Iggy. He's like a master chef, a very weird, bacon-loving master chef.
As I try to control my brownie-eating urges, I ring the doorbell on the new girl's house.
"GOD DAMMIT!" I hear someone shout from inside the giant house. After many loud thumping noises and more cursing, a beautiful, tall, thin girl answers the door.
Her eyebrows are drawn into a scowl, her deep brown eyes slitted into a glare. The wind plays at her hair, pulling brown and gold locks around her angry-looking face. She has on a shirt that says "I 3 NY!" and is probably 5 sizes too big for her slim frame. The tips of her denim shorts peek out from the bottom of her oversized shirt that reaches her mid-thigh. She's gorgeous, beautiful, amazing, and even graceful even though all she's doing is standing there. That's how incredible this girl is.
And I absolutely hate her.
"Thank you very much for making me drop a heavy box on my foot, asshole." She says in a flowing voice that is layered with venom.
"You're welcome!" Iggy says happily. She turns daggers on him, obviously trying to burn him with her eyes. Those intense eyes of hers that I hate.
"Listen, we're just here to give you these Welcome-To-The-Neighborhood-Brownies." I say, shoving the box of chocolaty goodness into her hands. I notice that her hands look very soft, with long, elegant fingers. Damn, even her hands are perfect!
"I'm Fang, and this is Iggy. We're the Martinez's sons. I'm 16 and Iggy is 15." I say, my voice closer to a growl than anything. It's going to be so hard to be friendly with her like my mom told me to be. . .
Her eyes flicker from me to Iggy, and back to me again. It looks like she's trying to decide if she can trust us or not.
"I'm Max. I'm also 16. Now are we done playing Friendly Neighbor? I have boxes that aren't going to unpack themselves." She says, impatience seeping from her voice.
"We could help you!" Iggy says, jumping at the chance to hang out with a hot girl that doesn't know how weird he really is yet.
"Why the hell do you assume that I need help? Is it because I'm a girl?" Max says, raising her voice for the last word.
"No no, of course not! I was just thinking it would be a good way to get to know each other better." Iggy says, holding his hands up in defense.
"Yes, because that's obviously what I want to do!" She says, her voice covered in sarcasm and annoyance. After one look at Iggy's hopeful face, she sighs angrily and moves out of the way, motioning for us to come in.
Iggy strides in happily, leaving me to trail in behind him.
Great, this is exactly how I want to spend my Saturday afternoon.
Max (POV)
Ok, I'm pretty sure I asked for two NON WEIRDOS. If you forgot that I have asked that, then please scroll up and re-read paragraph six.
I have no clue why I let these two obnoxious boys into my house. Maybe it's because I need help unpacking my stuff. No, that's a total lie. I already know the real answer. I just hate saying it.
You want me to say it anyways though, don't you? Fine then. It's because I've been so lonely for the past couple of, oh I don't know, YEARS.
If you couldn't tell from the previous conversation with my new neighbors (there's that new word again), I'm not exactly the best at making friends. New friends. I have really got to stop using that word.
It's not like I've never had friends before, because I have, if that's what you were thinking. But this year, I'm making it my goal to have more than just two friends. And so far, that's not working out so well.
Anyways, I let these two weirdos into my house. I can see them sizing up the place, and it's obvious that they think it's way too big for just one girl to be living in. Truth be told, I think that too, but my adoptive parents want to make my life as easy for me as they can, and apparently that includes living in one fat ass house.
"Nice house you got here." Says the blonde, pale one, Iggy. He's cute, but the other one, Fang, is much hotter. It's a shame I hate them already.
"Thanks. Now are you going to just stand there or are you going to start unpacking boxes? They all have labels on them for where they should go." I say, picking up a box labeled KITCHEN and taking it to the kitchen. I place it on the countertop, going back to fetch more KITCHEN boxes before unpacking anything.
I see them picking up boxes, reading their labels, and taking them to different rooms in the house. Good, maybe they're not as useless as I thought they were.
We spend the next, oh, say, 30 minutes just moving all the boxes into the right rooms. As we begin unpacking the stuff for the kitchen, that Iggy boy asks me a question I had been hoping to avoid.
"So, how was your old life back in New York?" He asks. Grrr. Do I really have to answer? Of course I do. Because both of them are staring at me expectantly, waiting for an answer that I didn't want to give them.
"Oh, you know, like any other city girl's would be. Umm, shopping, and stuff, I guess. . ." I say, hoping they wouldn't see through my lie and demand the truth.
"That sounds like fun. There aren't many big malls around here, but there are plenty of pools. Maybe you could go with us sometime?" Iggy says, getting that hopeful look in his eyes. I really want to say no, seeing as how I really hate these boys, but my mouth has apparently developed a mind of its own today.
"Sure, why not?" I find myself saying. Why am I saying that? It's the freaking middle of October! Oh shit. AND I didn't even add a sarcastic remark! I am really losing my touch. I think I'm gonna blame it on them, yeah that works. It also makes me hate them more, which I'm also ok with.
Actually, I don't really hate the Iggy kid, it's that Fang that's really bothering me. He's so dark, and mysterious, and he just seems so . . . confident. I hate his confidence. It makes him look like he thinks he can whatever he wants, whenever he wants. And it's really pissing me off.
"That's great! How's tomorrow? With us helping you unpack, we'll be done by the end of the day!" Iggy asks, his face STILL looking super hopeful. Fang, meanwhile, remains silent, and I swear I'm getting these telepathic feelings from him that he's begging me to say no.
"I would love to." I say, smiling at Iggy. In my head, I'm smirking at Fang, mostly because he's now clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth in anger, but partly because I actually feel like I want to go. Strange, I know.
"Cool! Ok, so where do you want everything?" Iggy says, gesturing at all the utensils, dish rags, pots and pans, plates, bowls and spices that surround him.
"I have no clue. I was thinking the forks, knives, and spoons could have their own drawer, and all the other utensils could have their own drawer. Same for the dish rags and the pots and pans. Maybe the spices could have their own cabinet? Along with the blender, toaster, snow cone maker, and anything else that's big and chunky." I say, hoping that sounds right because I really haven't thought about that until now.
"Ok! That sounds good." Iggy says, beginning to put things in their different places. It seems to me like he's so used to being in a kitchen. But maybe that's just me.
We begin to put everything away, Iggy doing most of the talking, and it actually doesn't take that long. Maybe we will be done by the end of the day like Iggy had said.
Fang (POV)
As we put everything away, my eyes stay mostly on Max. I watch her graceful movements, the way she seems as if she's dancing instead of walking. Iggy is obviously thrilled at the fact that he got Max to say yes. Me, I'm more surprised. She doesn't seem like the type of girl that would throw herself at a guy the instant they meet.
Then again, maybe she did it to make me pissed. After she had said she would love to go, she did send this little smirk my way, as if she somehow knew I didn't want her going.
Iggy and I were supposed to be going with a few friends of ours, Nudge, Ella, and Angel. Nudge is a 13 year old African-America, with dark hair that corkscrews all the way down to her shoulders. She's fun to be around, but she never stops talking. Never, ever, ever. To make matters worse, she's my sister, so I have to deal with her talking all the time . . . lucky me. . .
Ella actually looks a bit like Max, except she has light brown hair, her eyes are a shade lighter, and she's only 14. She's a bit shorter, and definitely not as graceful. She's a total klutz. To add on, she's one of the more popular girls that worries about how she looks every moment of every day, but she's too nice for anyone to care about that.
Angel is exactly what her name implies; she's a complete Angel. She posses such sweetness that sometimes you swear you can see a halo above her head. She has adorable blue eyes that can make people fall to her every will, and bouncy blonde curls. She's 13, and my sister.
So anyways, now Max is also coming. I am seriously wondering how Ella, Nudge, and Angel will react to her. She has such a big presence that you can hardly ignore her. Even before she had answered the door, I could already sense that she was a person of importance, that she was not just a normal city girl like she claims to be.
So, you like?
Please Review, I will happily accept criticism and suggestions!
Also, tell me how you like the new fearless Max!
I actually got the idea from a book series by Francine Pascal called Fearless.
It's an AMAZING book; I would recommend it to all readers!
By the way, the more reviews I get, the faster I update!
Hope you all enjoyed it, can't wait to write the next chapter!