Hello to all of my fans! Okay, so, this is my 3RD Maximum Ride story! WOOH! –confetti drops from nowhere and party music plays. Fang pops up out of thin air—
Me: Hey, wassup Fangy?
Fang: Your Mom.
Me: What? Oh, I know you aint talkin' 'bout my Momma. –Waves a finger in his face—
Fang: --puts hands up defensively— Just a joke, jeez.
Me: Oh. Well, how do you like the idea of turning Maximum Ride into Twilight?
Fang: Twilight's stupid.
Me: --beams at the man who she is madly in love with-- Thanks for your wonderful input! Oh! Guess what?
Fang: --sighs and looks at ceiling-- What?
Me: I just ate peanut butter!
Fang: Great. Wonderful. Now say the disclaimer.
Me: --rolls eyes—Fine. I, Mrs. Starsky Fang, DO NOT own Maximum Ride or Twilight. Happy?
Fang: Sure. On with the story thing.
Max POV:
My mom drove me to the airport, with the windows rolled down. It was eighty degrees in Phoenix, the sky a cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite outfit—a pair of denim shorts, converses, and a black cotton shirt that fitted perfectly on my slim and muscular body; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. The only thing I carried on board was my fanny pack.
Way over on the western side of the country was the state of Washington. My dad lived there in Forks, where it's most always raining. It's about the rainiest, gloomiest place in America. It was here that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer with my father when I was eleven. That was the year when I had had the last straw; the past three summers my dad, Jeb, stayed two weeks with me in California instead.
I hated Forks. I hate the rain. I'm really gonna miss Phoenix, but I decided I needed time to spend with my father.
"Max," my mom, Valencia, said to me for the millionth time. "You don't have to do this."
My mother looks just like me, except more Spanish and with darker hair that was slightly longer than mine. I got most of the white-person genes. I stared at my mom while a spaz attack of fear pulsed through me. I've lived with her for so long and we're really close. What if she can't take care of herself? I know she's a very strong woman, but I just can't leave her. But I have to.
I straightened my posture and did what I'm best at. I lied. "I want to go, Ma." My mom gave me a skeptical look. She could almost always tell when I'm lying, somehow.
She sighed. "Tell Jeb I said 'hi.'"
"Okay."
"I'll see you soon." She said sternly, as if telling that to herself. "You're welcome home whenever you want. Just call me."
I blinked hard. I was really going to miss my mother. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Love ya."
She hugged me tightly, cracking my back in about twelve different spots. Then she let go and I got on the big plane, first class seats.
It's about a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a tiny plane to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive to Jeb's house. I absolutely love flying, though the car ride with my scientist father I would rather live without.
Jeb was being so nice about this whole your-daughter-is-coming-to-live-with-you deal. He enrolled me into the nearest high school and was going to give me driving lessons.
But everything was awkward with Jeb. All he knew was science and didn't know much about teenage girls. And I absolutely knew he was very confused on my decision to live with him. I mean, you would be confused, too, if your daughter, who hated rainy places, came to live with you in the middle of the year.
When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. Surprise!
Jeb was waiting for me with his white Ford Taurus. I personally hated that car. It's broken down about a hundred times and he still won't get a new one. Sure, that was his company car, but why not ask for a new one? He worked at this big place called Itex. They made about everything you can think of and are big scientists.
Jeb gave me a stiff, slightly embarrassed, one-armed hug and helped me with my bags. I'm a girl, so, I kinda had a lot.
"Good to see you, Max." Jeb said to me. "Boy, you've grown. How's Valencia?"
"She's fine. It's nice to see you too." I climbed into the car and he soon followed.
On the way to his home, we just mentioned how 'nice' the weather is or what my grades are in school. You know, the normal father/daughter talk.
It took me a couple of trips to get all of my stuff upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced the front yard. There was a big weeping willow in the way of my window, so I couldn't really see outside. Stupid tree.
We ate a dinner consisting of: steak, potatoes, and macaroni and cheese. After that I decided to go to bed. It's been a long day and I was pooped. As soon as my head lay down on the goose feather pillow, I burst into silent tears. I was so not ready to face the next day at Forks High, where I was now a junior. Man, life sucks.
Jeb woke me up in the morning, telling me he had to go to work. I mumbled an "okay" at him tiredly and snoozed until my teal alarm clock buzzed. I groaned and smashed my fist against it. Not a good way to wake up in the morning.
I groaned into the pillow and jumped up out of the cozy, warm bed. My hair was feeling slightly greasy, and I didn't want that on my first day, so I hopped in the shower. That woke me up.
After I got dressed in my jeans and a t-shirt, I brushed my tangled, wet hair. I stared in the mirror for a few seconds, checking myself out. My hair hung straight down past my shoulders with blonde streaks highlighting my dark hair. I still had pink lines in my hair from the last time I went to the salon with my mom. I had high cheekbones and big, dark eyes. I lifted up my shirt and pressed on my rock-hard abs. I liked to work out a lot and I was always stronger than everyone else.
I sighed and blow-dried my hair. It was so lifeless; just hung straight and flat. I pulled it back into a half ponytail and clipped it back with barrettes, making a little bump.
I snatched up my books and thumped down the stairs. Jeb left out the box of frozen waffles for me, so I fixed two of those and I was outta there, grabbing my rain jacket on the way out the door. It was drizzling a little bit.
The bus rode up and I hopped on. It was really noisy inside. People were throwing paper planes back and forth and I think I even saw some seniors making out. I stepped over people's feet and trash that was thrown on the floor. The only seat open was beside this girl with dark red hair and freckles, staring out the window and twirling her hair around her fingers. I sat down beside her and the bus moved again, making me slam back into the seat.
I heard loud laughter from across the aisle and I looked over. Right across from me were two guys, a blonde and a guy with black hair. The one that really caught my eye was the dark haired one. He must've been Goth because all he was wearing was black. Is his hair naturally that black? He was wearing a leather jacket and was turned in his seat so he had his back to the window. It was just like something was attracting me to him, not letting me look away. This might sound kinda weird, but he was absolutely gorgeous—in the guy kind of way.
I guess he caught my gaze on him, because he turned his sharp features my way. Wow, his eyes were…black. They sparkled in the little sunlight there was but were black as night. I could see no emotion in his angular features and he just stared at me with a hard gaze.
I looked away quickly, embarrassed. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him smirk and jump back in to the conversation. I sighed in relief that he wasn't looking at me anymore and stared at all the graffiti on the back of the brown leather seat.
We soon bumped into the crowded parking lot after a few stops and the bus hissed to a stop. Everyone stood up and practically ran out the door. I stood at my seat and waited patiently for my turn. I tried to get out at one time, but got pushed back into my seat. I scowled in anger and just waited.
The dark-haired guy jumped out in front of me with his friend and didn't even spare me a second glance as he walked off the bus. The redhead behind me growled in impatience and tapped her fingers on the seat.
"Could you hurry up, please?" she growled at me.
I didn't even turn to look at her. "I'm trying to get out as best I can." I said, loud and clear. She sighed, me feeling her minty breath on the back of my neck, and leaned against the seat.
Finally, someone was nice enough to let me out and I took the opportunity graciously.
Before I left for school, Jeb gave me a map of the school and we highlighted where all my classes were. The first building I was supposed to go to was building number three. It was easy to spot and I flowed in with the group of teens on the sidewalk. My black jacket didn't seem to stick out and I was grateful for that. I was enough of a freak.
My breathing was coming in frantic little pants as I reached the tall, wooden door. I counted slowly to three and walked inside the warm room. I copied the people in front of me, hanging up my slightly wet raincoat. From what I could see, they were very pale. Jeez, another reason I'm a freak. I'm the tannest one here.
The teacher, a balding, stubby guy named Mr. Mason, sent me to a desk in the back of the room. He kind of gawked at me when I told him my name, Max Batchelder. I flushed lobster red and put my head in my hands. Being the daughter of the most well known scientist sucked sometimes.
Even though I was way in the back, people still managed to stare at me. I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had passed out. This stuff was fairly easy: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. I've already read everything. Well that's one thing for me to be less stressed about.
When the bell rang, signaling class had ended, an Asian guy with obvious skin problems and greasy hair leaned across the aisle.
"Your Maxine Batchelder, right?" He looked like an overly helpful, chess club type of guy.
"Max," I corrected. Everyone within a hearing distance turned to look at me.
"Where's your next class?" he asked.
I looked inside my binder. "Uh, Government, with Jefferson, in building six."
"I'm headed towards building four, I could show you the way…" Mucho overly helpful. "I'm Sam by the way." He added.
I smiled tentatively. "Thanks."
We got our jackets off the hooks and went outside. It was still raining, no surprise there. I could have sworn there was a group of people behind us eavesdropping. Jeesh, paranoid much?
"So, I'm sure this is much different than Phoenix, right?" he asked.
I nodded. "Definitely."
"It doesn't rain much there, does it?"
"Only about three or four times a year."
"Wow, what must that be like?" he wondered.
"Awesome. And sunny." I told him.
"You got a nice tan there." He said, pointing to my dark skin.
I touched my arm. "Yeah. My mom's Spanish."
We walked behind a couple of buildings and ended up by a building by the cafeteria. Sam walked me straight to the door, even though it was clearly marked.
"Good luck," he said as I gripped the door handle. "Maybe we'll have some classes together." He sure sounded hopeful.
I nodded and went inside.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur of introductions, blushing, and people staring at me. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I blushed furiously and I got even more stares.
While I was in the cafeteria, I started to recognize some of the faces from the classes I had that morning. There was this one girl who walked me to the cafeteria and talked to me the whole way there. She was way shorter than my five feet eight inches, but her dark brown curly hair made up for most of the height difference. And man this girl can talk.
We sat at the end of this long table with a group of her friends, who she introduced to me. As soon as their names left her mouth, I immediately forgot them. The boy from English, Sam, smiled and waved at me from across the room. I just nodded at him and bit into my apple.
It was there, in that cafeteria with all my new 'friends', eating an apple, that I saw him. And them.
The boy with the dark hair and the sparkling black eyes was there. Him and the blonde boy were sitting at a table at the back corner of the cafeteria along with three others. There were five in all. They weren't talking much, just staring around and scarfing down their food like they hadn't eaten in days. They weren't gawking at me, like the other students, so it was okay to look at them. But it was none of these things that caught, and held, my gaze.
None of them looked anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big and muscular—muscled like an extreme weight lifter and had blonde, cow-licked hair. Another was taller, leaner, and had platinum blonde hair—the blonde on the bus. The last was also very muscled and very tall with messy black hair that swung to the side and was still in his eyes. The boy on the bus who caught my attention. He was manlier than the other two, who looked like they could still be in middle school.
The girls were opposites. The tall one had the figure of a model, like someone you would see on the cover of Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. Her hair was the same color as the weight lifter—golden honey curling down in smooth curls down to around the middle of her back. The shorter girl was just as skinny, just not so model like. Her hair was a wavy mess and her skin was a light mocha color.
And while they all looked very different, they were the same. All of them were wearing some sort of jacket that puffed up slightly in the back and were constantly surveying the area, like they were expecting some attack on the school. Their skin was about the same, too. They all had tan skin, except for the mocha girl. I believe their skin had to have been even darker than mine. How could someone be so tan when they live in a town like this? I also noticed lots of scars on their faces. Weird.
The girl with blonde hair quickly got up and threw away her trash, almost floating out the back door of the cafeteria.
"Who are they?" I asked the girl from my Spanish class.
As she looked up to see what who I meant, suddenly he looked at her, the manly one with the dark hair. He looked at her for just a fraction of a second and then his eyes flickered to mine.
He looked away quickly, even quicker than I could, but I dropped my eyes to my tray anyways in a flush of embarrassment. In that brief glance, his face held no emotion, as if he'd looked up as if someone had called his name.
My neighbor giggled in embarrassment and looked over at the table like I did.
"That's Fang and Iggy ter Borcht, and Gazzy Davis, and Nudge Donovan. The tall girl who went out the door was Angel Davis; they all live together with Dr. Toler and his wife." She said all this under her breath.
I glanced sideways at the handsome boy, who was munching on a piece of an apple. His jaw was tight and he was tapping his fingers on the table, as if impatient, looking at the platinum blonde boy.
Weird, uncommon names, I thought. Nicknames, maybe? Or maybe those were just small town names. I just remembered my neighbor's name was J.J., a pretty common name, I suppose.
"They're…very nice looking." I muttered, trying to find the right thing to say.
"I know!" J.J. agreed with another fit of giggles. "They're all together, though—Gazzy and Nudge, Iggy and Angel, I mean. And they live together."
"Which ones are the ter Borchts? They don't look related…" Nope, they didn't, except the two golden blondes.
"Oh, they're not. Doc and the Misses adopted them. The Davis' are brother and sister, twins—the honey blondes—and they're foster children."
"Hmm. How old are they?" They had to be at least seniors.
"The twins and Nudge are all fifteen, sophomores. Iggy and Fang are juniors, like us." He twirled her hair around her finger and looked at them.
"That's really nice to be taking care of all those kids."
"Yeah, I guess so," J.J. admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression she didn't like the Doctor or his wife that much. I think it was jealousy.
I kept flicking quick glances at the odd group as I ate my lunch. They continued to eat their huge meal and quietly talk to each other, always flicking quick glances at the doors.
"Have they always lived in Forks?" I asked.
"No," she said, making it sound like I should know something like this even though I just got here. "They moved here a couple of years ago from somewhere in Arizona," she said, popping a grape in her mouth. Hm, that's where I was from.
As I examined them, the oldest of the bunch, the dark one, looked up and met my gaze, this time with obvious curiosity in his expression. As I looked away, I noticed that it seemed like his glance held some kind of unmet expectation.
"Which boy is the one with the black hair?" I asked, looking at his tense posture out of the corner of my eye. He was still looking at me—but not gawking like some of the other nosy students at this school. I looked down at my lunch tray.
"That's Fang. He's real hot, of course, but don't waste your time on him. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good enough for him." She looked down at her French manicured nails and sniffled. I wonder when he turned her down, or why. She was gorgeous—a lot prettier than me.
I bit the insides of my cheeks to hide my smile. Then I glanced at Fang again. His angular face was turned away, but his cheek was lifted like he was smiling too.
After a few more minutes, the four of them got up and threw away their sparkly-clean lunch trays and walked swiftly out of the cafeteria door. They were all pretty graceful, even the big blonde one who seemed to be on steroids, and they all moved as to not touch anyone else in the crowded cafeteria. Fang didn't even spare me a second glance.