Because chat room fics are so overdone, I feel I need to contribute to burn them. But still, I've read quite a few chat room ones, which are really good, and I thought that Fax would be the best pairing for this sort of thing. My first Maximum Ride fic, enjoy!
Warning: Spoilers. Although I don't own the last two books, I have read them. My memory might be a little patchy, so forgive me for any mistakes.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything...
*
Sitting down, I blink and hesitantly reach forward to press the big button below the screen.
Apart from a little light turning on, nothing happens. Breathing deeply but silently, I look around for other possible button candidates. Spotting another one with the same sign on it, except it's on the main box thingy, I decide that this must be the one. I press it and the computer starts whirring, and the screen turns blue as lights flicker on the main box thingy.
I would say that my first experience with a computer is going rather well.
Oops, I mean, my first computer experience on my own is going well. I've used the Internet before, and thanks to google and wikipedia, I wasn't not totally lost when I went to school. But we nearly always went on together, if I wanted to know some obscure meaning behind a saying, for example, I would tell them and they would come and look with me. (Unless I suspected it was of a not-too-innocent nature, in which case I told Iggy and Fang to come with me only. Nudge if she used puppy dog eyes.) And vice-versa. I've never actually turned one of these things on before. Somehow, bizarrely, I was always the last one to arrive and everything was already set up by the time I got to the technology room.
Ah, so, where were we?
I am in a shopping center. And I felt terribly lost and irritated, so when I spotted this place, I nearly whooped, glad to find an excuse to stay away from the other two girls. Mainly because Nudge recently grew the undeniable factor proving that she is female, and didn't waste any time, spotting Victoria's Secret and instantly heading over, dragging poor Ange behind her. I'm just thankful she didn't grab me (cold day in hell before I go into a 'lingerie' store) and that we split from the guys. (They spotted an arcade. Or, Fang did and then looked away in a supposedly disdainful way, Iggy just blinked, unaware, and Gazzy ran over, heading for the one with guns and zombies.)
I digress once more. Back to the computer.
I had to pay a bit of money to get on, and I paid for an half an hour (surely Nudge will have tried on everything her size by then?), so the timing should work perfectly. But of course, things won't go as planned.
Because, now that I'm here, I don't know what to do. I just paid money for this, and as good escape as it is, I don't want to just sit here and do nothing. I open Windows Explorer, ignoring Mozilla Firefox because I don't trust it. Hey, you're meant to love me for my quirks, not think I'm mental.
I blink in confusion as another window opens up, with large flashing letters on it.
Oh, this must be those 'pesky, irritating advertisements that make the computer work as slow as a turtle'. I better close it then.
It's as I'm moving my mouse towards the 'X' that I notice the word 'chat'. The advert is 'Boy on Boy Hot LIVE Chat, Sign Up FREE!!'… which I won't be doing, but still... A chat room. I've heard about those. I decide to check it out.
And if it's really awful I can always go and mess around with Fang's blog.
Closing the window I center in on Google, and type in chat room. Pressing enter, I nearly groan as sixty million results come up. Okay, maybe I should narrow it down.
Chat room...err, what else should I put in? Chat room for the bored? ...I could put in lesbian, just to see what comes up. Hmm, or I could put in teenage. It would be interesting to see what other eighteen-year-olds think. Yes, I'll listen in on their pathetic problems like 'should I ask baboon face out? What should I wear to the prom? The green or the brown??'. Might cheer me up.
Scanning, I decide to go for the first one. Offering many chat rooms for teens and preteens, blah blah blah.
I examine the many different kinds, or 'hangouts', and then I sigh and close my eyes, moving the mouse up and down and randomly picking one. Opening my eyes, I almost laugh.
Relationship Problems Chat.
Oh my God. At least no-one will know me... (I do a quick three sixty) And they're all going to be sadly desperate people looking for other sadly desperate people who want to flirt while pretending to be in a really painful situation. No, wait, that's the 'Flirt Hangout'.
At least I don't have to become a member, you just put in a nickname (making sure it's nothing to do with your real name). So, I shall name myself TheCookieHater. Just for kicks.
***TheCookieHater has joined the chat room***
arllyhtguy: wt mks u thnk i wna du dat?
playboyfan: cuz u jst sed so, dmbo
Gothnumberzero: wth r u ppl on about?
pthrt: (who knos)
arllyhtguy: n i didn! i sed i wntd t kno wt sh fels, nt sk hr out!!
pthrt: u still lost, G?
Gothnumberzero: pretty much
I stare in amazement. They actually know what the other is saying?! Squinting, I lean forward to try and work out how the hell they're doing it. After a while, it comes to me. Oh, shorten the word so it's written like what it sounds like, and or get rid of vowels. Right. I'll just stick with proper grammar and spelling.
DarkAndMysteriousType: They are contemplating whether to grow potatoes.
Even though it's quite rude, I laugh out loud. I don't know why, but I can just imagine it being said by this new chat contributor in a sarcastic and dry voice. Still chuckling, I join the conversation.
TheCookieHater: Really?
DarkAndMysteriousType: Yes. Welcome to the The Potato Hangout.
playboyfan: ashls, we wer tlkng bout arllyhtguys situatn wth hs frnd!
pthrt: an thats our problm...hw?
arllyhtguy: nt bt i wntd advce
TheCookieHater: Fair enough, but I'm really not the best person to ask.
DarkAndMysteriousType: Me neither.
I raise an eyebrow. This person sounds interesting. Rather than send my next message to the entire room, I select it to be for Dark only.
TheCookieHater: Care to explain?
DarkAndMysteriousType: Why?
TheCookieHater: You made me curious.
I had to wait a long time for the response, so I open my shoulder bag and pull out a chocolate bar. Sitting up, munching, I read the reply and raise an eyebrow.
DarkAndMysterousTpye: I cannot decide whether to tell you everything or nothing.
TheCookieHater: And why not in between?
DarkAndMysteriousType: Because I would make you more curious, and tell you more than everything.
TheCookieHater: You know me well. So, have you decided yet?
DarkAndMysteriousType: I suppose you're asking why I said that I'm not the best person to talk to for advice in relationships.
TheCookieHater: Most definitely.
DarkAndMysteriousType: Do you have a group of friends, where you like one of them and are too scared to say it?
The question makes a needle stab my heart, but this person wouldn't know that. I feel for them, I suppose they messed it up, like I did. Terribly.
TheCookieHater: Yes.
DarkAndMysteriousType: I never actually confessed, but neither did they. The first time something happened, it was them. They kissed me, but it was mainly because of relief, and we didn't really mention it. The next time, it was because we each did something incredibly stupid, basically we went out with other people, and got nasty with one another about it. I was mainly jealous, but worse, I think that they were mainly hurt. We moved on, and made up and we each forgot about the 'fling'. I made a move two more times, and every time, they didn't push me away but they would always say something like 'not sure'. I don't know what it is, but I must be doing something wrong.
I'm staring. I know I am. And I also know that if my mouth stays open any longer I will start drooling. Holy -- Holy... Crap. Is this Fang?! Is he talking about me? Is that what he thinks?
Hang on, wait, breathe, it might not be him, and if it is, he doesn't need to know it's me. He probably won't, looking at my name.
Chewing my lip, I think about what to say, without revealing a bit too much about the situation. And if it isn't him, I don't want to... say anything I shouldn't to a stranger (who may even be a woman).
TheCookieHater: It sounds to me like you are in fact doing everything right, and this person is merely confused and needs to sort out their feelings (or at least, that's what I expect I would be like, I make really terrible mistakes like that). Of course, I know neither of you, so it could be completely different.
DarkAndMysteriousType: That sounds plausible. But still, the last time was two years ago, surely that's plenty of time?
I almost hang my head in shame. Yes, Fang, that's more than enough time. I... just, I just pretended nothing had happened, because that's what we always do. To survive.
Maybe you should try to live instead, Max. The Voice says, irritating me greatly. You shut it, I reply snarkily, I don't need or want your 'wise' advice right now. I feel like elaborating and mentioning how it actually doesn't help at all at the end of the day. In fact, it has only ever helped me in school (real school, boring geography and stuff, not The School). One time, the stupid... thing told me all Erasers were dead, which wasn't exactly true. Supposed to be dead, and they made robots anyway so it was redundant number one. Okay, back to replying Fang.
TheCookieHater: Maybe they have made up their minds already and all you need to do is try again. But I would suggest just saying it straight, so there can be no miscommunications or anything.
DarkAndMysteriousType: Third time lucky?
TheCookieHater: Yes ;D
I add a little smiley to up the mood, though I really want to erase it as soon as it's sent.
DarkAndMysteriousType: Before I go, which is now, can you tell me your name?
I swallow the last of my chocolate bar and stare. Why are they asking? Do they know it's me!? What if--
Right, calm, calm. If it is Fang, it will only mean that he knows I know, and that that's what I think. Or he could take it badly and get really pissed, thinking I knew from the beginning or was trying to... embarrass him or something. If it's not him, it really doesn't matter, because I'll only give my first name. And there are loads of Max's around. They'll probably think I'm a he. He might think it's me, he might not, and it may be a she or a forty-year-old male paedophile.
TheCookieHater: Max.
***TheCookieHater has left the chat room***
Even though I just gave myself what was essentially a self-pep talk, when I close the window, my heart is doing double time.
I lean my elbows on the table and massage my temples. I let out a long sigh. How will I ever be able to look at him? There are so many different things that could happen. If it wasn't him, then nothing will, but I know I would never be able to look at him again without thinking that he could be feeling the exact same things. If it was him, and he does nothing, he will probably be waiting for me to do something, thinking what I am now. If it was him and he does something... Well, I'll play it by ear. I smile a little. Looking up, I notice my time is almost gone anyway.
Standing, I grab my bag and leave, heading over to Victoria's Secret. Nudge and Angel are standing outside, chattering excitedly (well, one of them is), Nudge holding a shiny bag.
"Max!"
Angel says, spotting me. Nudge turns and sees, and rushes over.
"Come on, you've got to come and see! I saw a green set perfect for you!"
"Nudge, green isn't my colour... And I don't need any more bras, thank you."
"And a black set! And a blue one with a really cool pattern! And then there was the white one with the lace, it was actually all right but I don't think you'd like it so I'd suggest the red one instead! And there was a yellow one, wait, I know you're thinking it must be awful, but just you wait until you see it! Who would've thought bright yellow could actually look nice? Anyway, first things first, I really need to show you the purple, dark, so I think you'll like it!"
And... She continues on. Angel sends an apologetic look, unlocking Nudge's grip on my wrist so I can walk normally. I tune the still talking motor-mouth out and sulk miserably in my head. All that time, all the (rather short) chat room drama, all the agonizing over what to say, all the worrying about whether it was him or not, all for nothing.
Why do you hate me? I imagine a whining whisper, reminiscent of Jim Carrey.
I guess I shall just suffer in silence.
But honestly... Things were so much easier when everyone just listened to me.
*
Arriving at the café restaurant thingy, I drop my bags (yes, bags. She insisted that I get everything she thought would look good) next to the table and rub my neck. I grimace and shoot a look at the two girls opposite me, who were the combined force that managed to make me go shopping in the first place. I have no doubt that they're also the reason why the guys are here.
...Hang on, how could it have been Fang if he was in the arcade? So it can't have been him! It must have been a stranger that was in an alarmingly coincidental situation!
Who am I kidding. Fang could have easily snuck away from the others (holy hell, and he could have been on the computer right behind me! Trust me to fall for the guy that can practically turn invisible), there's no way that was coincidence. I don't believe there is such a thing. Everything is arranged, usually by people trying to kill us.
Oh dear.
I spot the three others exiting the arcade, Fang walking with his hands in his pockets, Iggy following Gazzy's voice, who is bounding ahead, clutching a huge stack of ticket-y thingies.
"What are they?"
I ask, pointing at his hands.
"You get them at the arcade if you do good in a game! They're like points, when you get enough you can choose a prize!"
"What sort of prize?"
I ask as he flops down into a chair, having arrived first. Iggy reaches out and touches the chair next to his, muttering "silver" before checking it's empty and sitting down. Fang follows, sitting down in the last seat. Next to me.
"Any you want! As many as you want! They have cheap ones for only twenty tickets, but there's a paintball gun for only a few hundred! Too bad I ran out of money."
Gazzy replies breathlessly, looking excited as he remembers, and then pouting regretfully.
I raise my eyebrows.
"How many tickets have you got?"
I ask carefully, hopefully seeming just curious (so he won't get suspicious).
"Two hundred and sixty five!"
He says proudly, and I smile. Predatorily.
"And how much money did you spend to get two hundred and sixty five tickets?"
I ask sweetly, watching him pale.
"Thirty."
Fang answers, ever the traitor, and I raise an eyebrow.
"Just how many tickets is the paintball gun?"
"Four hundred... or so."
Meaning at least four fifty. I sigh and purse my lips, knowing that Gazzy would not give up until he had it and was driving us all crazy with it. Somehow, I'm the only one who seems to realise this. The others, having taken my sigh to mean that we are certainly not spending that much, have unleashed their weapons. Nudge is giving me her best puppy dog look, Gazzy is pleading, somehow managing to be endearing rather than annoying, Iggy is offering to make a huge batch of cookies, Angel is pouting adorably...
And then Fang suddenly grabs my hand under the table. His hold is light, barely actually touching me, as if he expects me to pull away.
I hold up my other hand (my right, thankfully), to halt the weapons of mass destruction.
"How many cookies?" I ask Iggy, and he smiles.
"Double the amount of last time."
I reach into my pocket and take out my wallet. Handing it over to Gazzy, I say sternly, regrettably also sounding fond,
"If you need more than this then you better find someone else to help you."
He nods and grins, bouncing up and rushing away. Angel jumps up to follow him after grabbing her bags, Nudge reaches for Iggy and pulls him up and along, going at a much more considerate pace, and Fang... Well, he seems to be staying. And staring. And not ravishing my mouth, which is the only disappointing thing, really.
He looks down at the bags piled against my chair leg.
"You went into Victoria's Secret?"
He asks, and I refrain on commenting on how he knows what it is (probably found out from one of those lovely read-head cheerleaders with trampy outfits, I think, and almost shake my head. That's a bit too bitter).
"Not willingly, obviously. I managed to escape for half an hour before they found me."
"What were you doing?"
I don't pause for thought, just saying it bluntly and see what happens.
"I was on the Internet."
He nods, but doesn't say anything. I don't know if I'm disappointed or relieved. It probably wasn't him, then (probably, you never really know with Fang). I stand up, blinking in surprise when the action makes our hands separate. I hadn't realised he was still holding mine. I reach down and grab my bags. We start walking towards the arcade.
"What were you doing?"
I ask, truly curious now that I can safely forget the chat room confession moment.
"I was being dark and mysterious."
He answers, and my lips twitch, before I remember why it sounds so familiar. I lock gazes with Fang, who is watching me with calculating eyes. My grip on my bags tightens, knuckles turning white. I finally catch up with my brain enough to think and my heart beats fast, annoyingly sending blood to my cheeks. My eyes widening and my mouth opening, even though I'm not ready to say anything just yet.
At that moment Gazzy comes running towards us, holding his prize aloft.
Drawn out of my stupor, I swallow and glance down, before focusing on instructing Gazzy on what he can and cannot do with the paintball gun.
I can feel Fang's eyes on me the entire time.
*
Running a hand through my very damp hair, I wonder if I've somehow managed to spectacularly mess things up between me and Fang again.
I sit down on my bed and start toweling my hair dry. I sigh heavily, staring out of the window at the now dark sky.
"Why?"
"Because we can."
I nearly flinch as I think about how I did fly away both times. Was I really 'not sure'? Is it really so hard for me to trust him? Him, of all people, like my second in command. Even during the 'one of the flock has gone bad' period and I was pissed about him trying to take control, I still trusted him implicitly.
"...we're still having fun, and Fang still loves you, and you'll still save the world. Okay?"
"Does he?"
I wonder out loud, shaking my head.
"I'm such an idiot."
Standing up, I head into my en suite and put the towel on the rack. Out of habit, I glance at the mirror. No Eraser Pekingese-y me. Just a weirdly clean, slightly wet, depressed looking me. Like Total after he's just been bathed. He would say I look like a real girl.
Sighing again, I turn away and reenter my bedroom, flopping down face first.
"I should probably go find him and interrogate... Dark and mysterious. Huh..." I say into my pillow, suddenly deciding. "I will, when I feel like getting up."
"The Voice say anything new?"
Thankfully, I don't jump, having recognised his voice.
"No, I'm just talking to myself... Would you like some coconut?"
"No."
Totally unsurprised at my random question. Christ, how long has he been there?
"Oh, that's a shame. Why did you sneak up on me?"
"I didn't. You were just so occupied with your argument with yourself you didn't notice."
"Moving on," he chuckles, making me feel giddy, "why are you here?"
"I wanted to know if you're 'TheCookieHater' Max." He states, ever so Fang, and I smile.
"Yes... What do you think of my amazing relationship advice?"
"Did you know it was me?"
I sigh and shake my head, still buried in my pillow. I don't think I could handle seeing his face.
"No, I only suspected until you explained. Did you?"
"Only after you said so."
I don't know why, but I feel a strange set of emotions. Relief is normal, but disappointment? What was I hoping for in some deep perverted recess of my brain?
I pause, and then lift my head slowly.
"But you must have guessed; that's why you asked."
I could get very poetic and mushy now, talking about his eyes are deep, bottomless pools of midnight, but let's not. Instead I will think about how very delicious he is in those jeans when he leans against my wall, and how nice it would be if he took them off.
"Yes, but I was still surprised."
Whoa, hold the reigns there Mr. Ice-cube, some might think you actually feel! You know, feelings. I send him a look, and the corner of his lips twitch up. Like they would if he was watching a cheerleading routine involving read-heads.
…I really haven't forgiven him for that, have I?
"So, why are you here? Wanting more advice? I must be good."
Now, I've never really noticed before, maybe I was too confused and distraught, but hoo-boy Fang can kiss. Despite my rather weird position (I'm still lying face-first on the bed), I am very comfortable. I am unusually comfortable, but it seems unfair to make him kneel like that, so I will roll over and let him join me on my squishy bed.
Oh, this is brilliant. I have never heard Fang gasp in the entire time we've known each other, but biting his ear does the trick.
"Max," he says in a strained warning voice, and I just feel like grinning. Fang might scare some, but not me. Ha-ha! I am the invincible Maximum Ride, and I--!
...Oh, crap. Why did he just do that?
"Fang, if you ever tell anyone that I just…"
It's so disgusting I can't even say it.
"Squealed?"
"Shut up."
Oh my, I'm feeling faint. Don't smile like that…
*
Well, what do you think? I may or may not write more, if I get inspiration.