Ok, guys. This is my second attempt at writing a Fax FF. The first one went to crap, so I took it off. R&R if you want virtual cookies and a semi-naked Fang in your room. **hint hint Rachel...**
Anyhow, enjoy!
When my parents made me move to Ampthill, England with them, I didn't see the point. They had awesome jobs in the US of A – my mom was a lawyer, and my dad was a history teacher at Forks High School.
"There're so many more opportunities in England. And I hear that it's beautiful, nothing like the endless rain we get here," my dad had said. Yeah, there couldn't be a wetter place on earth. But it was still beautiful. There was something surreal about the forests and the rugged coast.
"We'll make friends. New friends! Oh my God, I bet the girls there love shopping! And pancakes! Do you think they eat pancakes in England?..." and so on and so forth. Yeah, this was my baby sister, Nudge. Excitable didn't cover it. Hyper was an understatement.
"Maybe you'll meet a pretty girl. It's a real quaint town," said my mom. I had sighed. She was constantly trying to set me up. Being 15 and never having a girlfriend before was taboo in her little world. All of the girls in my year were… either very slutty or only went after me for my looks. I wasn't bad looking, but it was an acquired taste, was how my best friend Dea had told me once. I missed her loads. She was pretty, in a natural way, and didn't judge people at all. She was tiny, only five-foot-something, while I was a huge six foot two.
It was upsetting my parents, my not wanting to go, so I had shut up asking why and put a smile on. I don't think my mom was fooled, though.
Anyway, it was my first day of school, and I got up early. I needed to make a good impression. The first four seconds would decide my future for the next three years. I wanted to go to college. Or whatever they called it here. Everything was new. New systems, new everything. It was daunting.
I dressed in the Redborne uniform of black trousers, white shirt, black and red striped tie, black jumper and black shoes. Didn't this place have any sense of colour? I looked out my window and, joy of joys, it was raining.
I went downstairs to get some breakfast, and saw that Nudge was literally bouncing in her chair. I smiled slightly. She drove me insane, but I loved her. She isn't actually my sister. My parents fostered her legally when I was 9, and she was 7.
"Hey, Fang," she said, pausing for a second, and then shovelling in more pancakes. By the way, my name isn't really Fang, its Nick, but I used to bite any of the kids in my nursery class who laughed at me, therefore I have the name Fang.
I smiled slightly in her direction. I don't really talk much. What with that, my black hair, dark eyes and because I wear dark clothes, people assume I'm an emo. I'm really not. I can sympathise why people do that though. But back to the point.
I looked at my watch and ran out the front door, realising I was late. Nudge was lucky, her school started twenty minutes after mine. I ran all the way to school, to find out I was early. My watch had obviously broken. I took it off and plugged my iPod in, turning it to Comatose by Skillet, and begun to read.
I looked up, to find that the time had flown, and only a few stragglers were left walking to their form room. I walked into the reception and a lady, around forty-five and in a classic secretary's uniform, looked up and said, "Hello, how can I help you?" Whoa. The accent was nothing like how I'd imagined.
"Umm… Hi… I'm F-Nick. Nick Ride and I'm new here. Where do I go?" I asked nervously.
She smiled gently. "Here's your timetable, homework diary and a map. I've arranged for someone who's in your classes to show you round. Max!" the last bit she called pretty loudly. At least I'd get a guy to hang out with.
I was shocked when I saw a girl round the corner. She was tall, and was quite broad, but then I was used to little anorexic girls trying to be supermodels. She looked at me shrewdly and then smiled.
She stuck her hand out. "I'm Max. You're Nick, right?" Max was confident too.
And, added bonus, she wasn't looking at me like she wanted to eat me. I'd noticed the girls eyeing up the new kid, i.e., me. Disturbing, much? Way to scare the new guy. "It's Fang," I corrected automatically.
I shook her hand and she grinned wider. "I can see you two will be fine. Max, here's your note. See you soon!" the secretaries voice made me jump. I'd forgotten she was there. We left through the front slide-y doors and went up a flight of outside steps.
"So… What you got first?" Max asked, obviously trying to make small talk.
"English," I replied. She seemed surprised by my short response, and didn't try and ask me any more questions.
"Is your full name Maxine?" I asked her, and I saw her face drop for a split second before she fixed a smile back on her face.
"Nah, it's Maximum. By the way, our formie's called Mr Simpson." She said, obviously trying to change the subject. I let her have that one.
We were walking through another set of double doors, and we turned right. Max walked straight through the door into the classroom, but I hung back slightly. Mr Simpson was reasonably young, and he seemed pretty cool.
"Oh, ok, Fang, come in. Umm, do you want me to introduce you to the class?" I quickly shook my head, no, and he motioned to sit in a seat near the back. I sat down next to a girl with her head in a book. She smiled slightly at me, and then went back to reading. "Umm… hey. I'm Fang. What's your name?" Damn that sounded lame.
"Emma," she said. Even shorter sentences than mine. She looked dead, her eyes had bags under them, and they held no life. In short, two pretty scary places. Again, she was quite broad. It must be something in the water.
Mr Simpson took the register and then the bell rung for first period. English I could handle. I stood up and Emma packed her books away. She slung her bag over her back and slouched out of the room. "Yo, Fang. Coming?" called Max from the door.
"Yeah," I muttered back.
We walked in comfortable silence towards south school. Up four flights of stairs and through more double doors. Seriously, what did this school have with them?
Max and I walked into class and I bumped into something small. It was Emma again. She dropped her bag to the floor and her books spilled out of it. She muttered, "sorry," and bent down to pick them up. I helped her. Or rather I tried, but she brushed my hands away and did it herself.
Mr Kowenberg introduced me to the class as Nick – stupid posh-ass half Dutch dude – and sat me down next to a guy with white blonde hair.
"Iggy," he said. I assumed that was his name.
"Okay, guys. Romeo and Juliet. It will be 30% of your literature GCSE and 15% of your overall English. Let's go. Emma, Juliet. Don't argue, just read. Jason, Romeo. Go."
"Fang," I replied, keeping my answers short.
"Thought Kowenberg said it was Nick?" asked Iggy, his eyes still fixed on the board at the front.
"Nickname. That Emma girl. Is she ok?"
If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
"Who?" Iggy's curiosity got the better of him and he looked at me.
"Emma. Her," I pointed.
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this,
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss
"She's always been like that. I don't really talk to her much. She's always got her head in a book." He smiled though. He didn't seem to be laughing at her, but he seemed slightly bemused.
I shut up and just listened. Max was to play Lady Capulet, while I was to be Mercutio. Jason didn't want to do the role, and Iggy volunteered. Idiot. I wanted to watch him rehearse with Emma in the next room.
Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
O, then dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
They pray: Grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
Then move not while my prayer's effect I take.
Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.
Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
"Enough!" shouted Mr Kowenberg, "I think we've found our leads." He smiled at Iggy. "You two need to practice your scenes. There will be a rehersal timetable up by tomorrow. You will be marked!" Emma looked terrified, collected her script and almost ran out of the room.
And with that, he sent us out. We still had fifteen minutes of the lesson left, so Iggy and I went to the canteen. Max was no-where to be seen. Damn, I thought. Wait, what? No, I didn't. Forget I said that. She was friendly, but nothing really special. Well, she was special, 'cause noone else had wanted to talk to me. I was kinda intimidating. Must be the height.
We went to sit down at one of the tables with a bottle of Yazoo each, when I noticed Max walk round the corner. She smiled when she saw me. Or maybe it was Iggy. Anyway, she looked really pretty. The rain had stopped and sunlight was streaming through the window. It bounced off her coppery hair. Wow.
No, I did not just think that. Even though I didn't know her – hell I only just knew her first name – I still thought she was beautiful. Not in your average skinny way either. She had shape.
"Yo, Fang. Above the shoulders please," Max said, waving her hand in front of my face. Oops. I realised I had been staring. Hell, I could here Iggy beside me laughing, so I mist've been practically drooling. She was grinning, so I didn't take her stern tone too seriously. "Maths, kiddo."
"Don't call me kiddo. I'm older than you," I replied indignantly. I was taller than her but only by a few inches.
"Birthday?" she inquired.
"June, yours?"
"Dude, I own you by months. October." Well, there goes my leverage, I thought.
Next was maths, and we were in the same class yet again. Meh, I was smart, and so was she, apparently. Not that I was complaining.
The guy was called Mr Grimshaw and he was Welsh. And he was smart. Really smart. It was scary.
This time I was sat at the front, next to some girl named Jasmine. She looked Indian or Pakistani, and she was pretty. Thin, with long shiny black and dark eyes.
"Nick, explain a velocity/time graph," asked Grimshaw.
"A what, sir?" What the hell is one of those things? Now people were giggling. Great. An idiot on my first day. Grimshaw sighed, and prattled on with his explaination. Jasmine was flirting all through the lesson. She was nice and all, but full of herself.
The bell went for break, finally, and we made our way out back up to the north school field. Iggy left me with Max, and she walked to her group of friends. Most of them were guys. Of course. I trailed after her, not sure if I was welcome or not.
"Jonthan! Get your skinny ass over here and give me a hug!" shouted Max. Jonothan grinned and laughed at her, and it hit me that Max was one of the clowns. But not stupid. She was pretty darn clever, judging by the maths lesson we had just had.
"Oh, guys this is Fang. Play nice. Don't scare him too much, the poor dear's a bit fragile." She said the last bit in a scottish accent and people laughed. I rolled my eyes. I'd show her how fragile I was.
"Max?" I asked, and she turned. I jumped at her and tackled her to the ground and ended up sitting on her chest. "Fragile, huh?"
I heard a whispered whoa from behind me. She looked shocked. Then she laughed and tickled my sides. I creased up and she flipped us over. "I win." She got off me and reached her hand out to pull me up.
Jonothan, and another guy with spiky brown hair, Daniel, looked surprised and slightly scared. "What?"
"No-one's tackled Max to the ground in, like, forever," answered Jonothan. "She's too good." now the awe was obvious in his face. He started up-downing me. Oh crap. Do I seem gay?
"Uhh… what? I used to play quarter-back…" What were they on about?
Max started to laugh. "O..kay. Stuck, need some help here!"
She chuckled and replied in a tone that suggested I was mentally retarded. "I play rugby."
Nope, that went straight over my head. I heard Jonothan mutter something that sounded strangely like "American idiot" and Daniel started singing the Green Day song. Becky, a girl with straight black hair and pale eyes said, "It's like American football without shoulder pads." Ohh…
Explains her shoulders.
"Wanna watch, tough guy?" Max challenged, "Maybe you'll make it onto the girls team."
Ok, that was at least twice she had insulted me. This meant war.
Crap place to finish I know. But I wanted to get it up to see what you make of things...? And i will hopefully be updating every two weeks. If school gets in the way, I'll let you know. Love y'all! xx
By the way, I have Bi-Polar, so Max is based on my happy side, and Emma is based on my depressed side, ok? Which is why she has my name. :D