Summary: "They're like a glee club, but not. I would say they were a band, but..." "He is so staring at, at least, one of us" "They're a bunch of jocks. Hot jocks, admitted, but still" "This is our last and only year to make a name for ourselves" The twins, Maximum and Maya Ride, sure do have their work cut out for them when they transfer schools.

Mixed Love Story

Prologue: Lots of Love for Brother, Sissies, and Me

Maximum Ride rolled her suitcase behind her, rubbing at her tired eyes with the sleeves of her men's sized blue jacket. She didn't pay attention to where she was headed; only making sure that her father was in front of her and her little brother's hand was gripped tightly in hers.

Wait, she thought, I don't have three hands.

She looked behind her to see that her twin sister, Maya, had taken her suitcase when she let go of it and was rolling it next to her own. Max smiled sleepily, glad that at least one of the siblings was slightly coherent.

Ari, the little brother, yawned a big yawn, stretching his free arm as far as he could. A pale hand came out of nowhere and grabbed his fingers, leaving him to yelp from surprise as Ella gripped tightly onto him.

Yes, Max had three siblings. There were made up of the following:

Maya Ride, eighteen. She had the same blond-brown indecisive hair, though hers had a long pink streak. She had the same chocolate colored eyes and freckled nose. The main difference between the two was their style. Where Max was a true tomboy (with admittedly a small girly side), Maya found a good medium with making her feminine style shout strength.

Ella Ride, sixteen. She was the mini version of their mother. She had almost black brown hair, brown-hazel eyes, and a pale complexion. She could be very pretty, but her need to please everyone (especially the male species) usually led to a… less conserved style.

Ari Ride, eight. He looked like a mini version of their father. He had brown hair, bad (referring to his eyesight) brown eyes, and a medium skin tone that worked well. And his style… no eight year old has style.

The next thing Max knew, she was climbing into a SUV and seat belting herself in the very back with her brother. She watched the lights of Dallas, Texas, flow by as they drove out of the city and headed towards a smaller town right on the outskirts.

Once they passed a sign that Max was too exhausted to read, her father started looking for a place to stop and eat.

Then Max was sitting in an IHOP family booth, leaning against her twin as she stared at the menu with no thought process.

"Daddy, can I get chocolate chocolate chip pancakes?" Ari asked.

Jeb, their father, grinned, "Sure."

Ari slammed his menu shut, "Can I go play with the claw machine now?"

"Go ahead."

Once the eight year old had ran off, Valencia turned to her husband. He just shrugged, "Think about it. He gets a sugar rush that lasts maybe ten minutes, and then he crashes. He'll be out cold until lunchtime tomorrow."

Valencia just laughed, shaking her head and going back to the menu.

Max was about to nod off on her twins shoulder when she heard her father ordering for her. As soon as the waiter left, an excited look spread across the exhausted teen's face. "I get steak?"

Jeb nodded, "You get steak."

Max grinned, letting her head drop back onto her sister's shoulder. Maya laughed, patting Max's head before taking a sip of her sweet tea.

Everything was a blur, from the sirloin tips to the car ride to their new house with Ari tucked under Max's arm, but at least she didn't walk off into a ditch like last time.

Maya led Max up to her room where the movers had already set up everything and pushed her onto her bed. Max just groaned, climbing under the covers. Maya laughed, "Sleep well, Maxi-poo, cause we pack tomorrow and then start school on Monday."

Max replied with a loud snore, leaving Maya to giggle her way out of the bedroom.