A/N: I know this isn't really my most original idea, but I just love both the series and the film that I wanted to write this! For those who haven't watched "A Little Thing Called Love" yet, you should really watch it. You will be able to relate to the characters =D. And I should also warn you that Max might be a little OOC here.

DISCLAIMER: The day I own MR will be the day Fang will not be fangalicious anymore. Oh, and I don't own "A Little Thing Called Love", either.

Don't you love the idea of love?

I don't, really. But I have to admit, being in love sort of feels awesome.

I'm Max. I'm fifteen, and I'm not really what you call the most attractive person on the face of the planet. In fact, I wouldn't be able to qualify as attractive, even if I tried. Lately, I've been told that my eyes are the color of unbarfed chocolates. My skin is tan, but not in a pretty tone that would match me. My hair is filled with sun streaks from too much time outside, and it's in too much of a bad shape that I can't run a comb through it without at least going through a hundred different tangles. I have an athletic figure, which I'm betting will not reveal curves any time later. My mom tells me I'm a late bloomer, but as much as I want to believe her, I don't.

Here I am, my hideous self making my way to Auntie Marie's Café with Ella, Nudge and Angel, my three best friends. Fall foliage surrounds us as our feet crush extra crunchy leaves and our heads dodge the ones making their way down. Once we arrive, Ella and Angel orders for us and Nudge browses one of the many shelves that line up the place. I saved us a spot in one of the window booths.

So what does this have to do with being in love? Well this is the same spot where I hang out with my friends and wait for him. My one true love (Corny, right? Haha).

His name is Nick, but everyone at school calls him Fang, even the teachers. He's not exactly the hottest guy in our school, but he is, in my book. He's slightly taller than my 5"8 and has smooth, tan skin, and dark hair that sometimes covers one of his eyes which are just as dark. Some call him emo, but just because he wears black ensembles doesn't mean he is. Or so, I presume. I don't talk to him much, but I hear he's not much of a conversationalist, anyway. He's a musician though. He plays a mean harmonica, and a bazillion other instruments. He could be a one-man orchestra, if he could play all of them at the same time. I've seen him play them all during Music class, the only one I share with him.

Well, why am I waiting for him here, you ask? If you say that this is the place he regularly hangs out then you're wrong. Maybe not, but I don't know for sure. But the real reason is that there was one time I was from a cousin's house, and I bumped into him on the way here. When I asked him where he was going, he told me that he was actually making his way home. So I've been spending as much time as I could in this same spot, watching him walk past the window. Occasionally we see each other, but that was the only reaction I could get. It was better than nothing anyway.

"Max, why are you drooling at that window? Again?" Angel asked as she put down two lattes on the table; one for her, one for me.

I looked at her in shock and hurriedly checked for any signs of saliva on my chin. None, which was a good thing. "Sorry," I told her. "I was pretty bored."

"That doesn't really explain it, since it's probably the twentieth time you've done that." Nudge said as she and Ella sat down on the other side of the booth, paperbacks and espressos in hand. "Come on, is there any hot guy around here you haven't told us about?"

"There's none, Nudge." I said rolling my eyes. I wasn't really in the mood to tell her about Fang. She would just pounce on me and give me a total emo-makeover and then say how cute the two of us would look together.

"Well, why don't you try search for something at the shelves? I saw a couple of new titles today."

"No, thank you." I said taking a sip of my crappy, but warm beverage. The lattes here usually don't taste bad, so they must've had a new employee. "Ms. Sovelle is already putting the whole English class through hell."

We laughed, and I was about to say something else, when, finally, I saw him.

Fang was in his usual outfit, which consisted of a black shirt with his dark leather jacket worn over it, and some dark jeans. His black Converse were a little worn out, and so was his backpack (if you can't guess the color, then reread the story) which was slung over one shoulder. The afternoon sun shone on him, and I willed for him to turn around and look at me. He walked past the window, looking straight ahead. I mentally sighed.

"Hey, wasn't that Fang?" I heard Ella ask. "Isn't he the emo dude?"

I was about to jump to his defense when thankfully, Nudge and her mouth cut in. "I don't know. Sandy Rye tells me he's not really emo, but emo people always wear black, right? Maybe he's punk, but he doesn't even look anything like punk, even the clothes. What if he's, like, some spy and he's spying on the cool kids because some say they do drugs and he dressed up as an emo so people won't talk to him? Or maybe he's one of-"

Nudge's never-ending list of theories was stopped by Ella's hand, which she thoughtfully slapped on her mouth. All of us gave an involuntary sigh of relief.

"I think Max likes Fang." Angel said. If I were drinking anything, then I might've spat it out onto Ella, who was sitting across me, removing her hand from Nudge's mouth and wiping it with a tissue.

"You're kidding me, right?" I asked, trying to keep my voice level. I tried to hide the fact that I was blushing by taking another sip of coffee.

"No wonder you wanted to go here!" Ella exclaimed. "How long have you been stalking him, anyway?"

Thankfully, I already swallowed my current ration of coffee before I could spit it out in her face. "Me? Stalking him? Yeah right."

"Why not? He seems pretty hot." Nudge said, resting her head against her hands. "And by going here, you could both hang out with us and stalk him."

"Come on! Just because I haven't been dating anyone my whole life doesn't mean I'd be willing to date some emo guy across the street!" It was true. Nudge said I belong to the NBOBs (No Boyfriend Since Birth). Besides, Fang wasn't emo, right? And there were no emo guys across the street, since his house was a couple more blocks over (No, I did not stalk him; he told me).

"Well what are your standards, anyway?" Angel asked. "For all we know, someone out there might be the perfect guy that goes with your rules."

I shrugged. Fang was the only boy I ever liked. And I was too distracted by home and school to make up any sort of standards.

"Well, I think you look good with the emo thing," Nudge said. "Why not try it for tomorrow?"

"Nudge, I don't like Fang." I said. "And even if I did, I wouldn't be all emo just to get his attention."

"Aha! That's one standard," Ella said, and Nudge and Angel nodded in agreement.

"Well, don't you, like, always have to be yourself when around guys?" Angel pointed out.

No matter how much I tried to make them stop, the three of them continued talking about Fang and how I liked him (which I of course, kept on denying), and what they were planning to do to have him get my attention. But no matter how hard they tried, or how hard I tried, that was never going to happen.

Ever since I saw him walk across the hallway and made eye contact, I know that I wouldn't be with him. Whether I was emo or not, whether he was popular or a loner, Fang would still be out of my league.

A/N: I appreciate any form of criticism ! Do you think the chapter was bad? Do you think you have a better title for my story (because I suck at titles)? Do you think that Max was too OOC? Review =D! In the meantime, um, want some cookies?