A/N: Hehe... here I am with another story. About my other ones... I dunno. I just kind of lost interest in them. I think I'll try to continue them later on, but I'm not sure. Anyway, here's the full summary of my NEW and IMPROVED story:
Summary: We're all tired of that cheesy, overused plot where Max moves. I have used it multiple times and we've all at least tried to use it. This one is going to be different. Sure, there's still going to be some romance and all that stuff with some drama. But, this will probably stick out harshly from all of the other Max Moves stories.
Max knew it wasn't worth the fight. She wasn't one to make friends easily. She absolutely hated talking to people. All she wanted to do was curl under her blankets with her iPod and she'd be happy. It doesn't make since that she doesn't mind moving. All of this makes her mom worried and ends with her in a therapist's office. With both her therapist and her mother on her back, she has no choice but to do as they say. This is what ends her on the cross country team at school.
With her high-school life looking boring, there has to be some way to spice it up. Senior year romance, anyone?
FAX and NIGGY with later pairs. I dunno why but my cursing has escalated, which is why this is T. Well, for that and for make-out moments and all of that stuff. It's not like there's a curse word every sentence, but they'll pop up. Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter One
"Please, Max."
"I said no."
"PLEASE, MAX?!"
"If I say Hell to the fucking no will it get it through your head?"
"Max, language!"
"She's annoying me! It's not my fault!"
"Ella, stop annoying your sister."
"But Max always gets the big room!"
"That's because I'm the oldest, idiot."
"Max, be nice to your sister!"
I throw my hands in the air, which effectively sends my hands crashing into the ceiling of the car. "Shit!" I yell, and Ella laughs loudly from the back seat of our stupid minivan. Mom glances over at me from where she was focusing her eyes on the road.
"Maximum, Angel and Gazzy are in the car, too!" she scolds.
"It's not my fault! Ella is annoying me and you're always on her side!" I exclaim.
She huffs, "Maybe I should've left you with your grandfather," she says under her breath.
"That's what you always say," I reply, "but it never happens."
Let me explain all of this to the audience in my head because I'm sure you're interested. We –as in my family of five- have been in this cursed minivan for the past two days. Most families would stop at a motel, but we aren't able to afford a motel, so that wasn't an option. Instead, I had to drive halfway while my mom slept in the back seat; Ella isn't old enough to drive yet. You take all of this and add it to the fact that Ella has been whining about me getting the big room in the new house the whole time. Not only that, but I have a little brother named Gazzy that has extreme digestive issues; little space plus him is a death wish.
Angel interrupts my train of thought, "Mama are we there yet? Gazzy keeps poking me and I'm hungry and I have to go potty!" she pouts.
Mom sighs, "Angel you went to the bathroom an hour ago."
"Well, I don't really have to go. But Gazzy keeps… cutting the cheese and I need an excuse to get us to stop so I can get out." Her big blue eyes were tearing up because of her brother's digestive system problem; I snicker to myself. Mom shoots me a look that I ignore; I go back to staring out my window and listening to the "Panic! At the Disco" album on my iPod.
Right, I was explaining to you why we're in the car and driving for two days. Well, this is going to be where my life turns into a big cliché story because we're moving. I'm not going to start complaining about how I had a perfect boyfriend back in Maine or about how I never wanted this to happen. Because I've never had a perfect boyfriend in my life and I could care less about us moving. The only problem I have with it is the fact that mother insisted that we drive instead of spending a whole load of money on a plane ride. We don't even have money for a one-night stay in a motel let alone a plane ride for five people.
If you want to know how we possibly bought a house in Arizona, we didn't. The house is paid for us by Mom's company; she's a veterinarian, but we're tight on money right now. We're trying to pay off all the hospital bills for when Angel had to get treated for some weird disease that almost killed her. So, we're driving 2,793 miles to get to this new place so Mom can get to work. She's hoping this move will put her in a place where she can work more and earn more. I doubt it, though, considering we're moving to a small town; well, it's small compared to the town we used to live in.
"AH!" Ella suddenly screeched right next to my freaking ear.
I glared at her through the rearview mirror, "WHAT?!" I exclaimed angrily. It didn't matter that I had my music playing loudly in my ears; she knew better to mess with me when I'm pissed. She's done everything she possibly can to get on my nerves this trip.
"I thought I saw a spider, but it was just a piece of black fuzz. I'm fine," she waved her hand in the air.
Mom breathed out, "Ella-," she starts.
"Seriously Mom, I'm fine," she says immediately.
I snort and roll my eyes, "She wasn't worried about you, idiot. She was going to tell you to stop being so damn overdramatic."
"Maximum Arianna Martinez!" Mom snapped at me.
"What?! I'm not the one freaking out over every little thing!"
"Language, young lady! There are young children in the car!" she hissed.
I glanced in the rearview mirror, "They aren't paying attention, anyway! Angel's coloring and Gazzy's too busy trying to keep in his atomic blasts that he could care less!" I point out smartly. Mom finally huffed and stopped trying to reason with me because we both know it's pointless.
We were passing a town at this point, which was a relief after passing a field for an hour. People were walking around in really short shorts or –in the case of guys- they were shirtless. Not one person was wearing jeans or a shirt that completely covered their stomach. Well, there were some guys wearing complete shirts because it'd be weird if the guys were wearing crop-tops. I looked down at my grey skinny jeans, black and red checkered top with the sleeves rolled to my elbows, and black Converse. Well, I was so going to fit in here; if you didn't see the sarcasm in that then please go get some help.
"Mom," Ella leaned forward between my seat and Mom's. "Do we have any money to get Max and I some new clothes?" she asked.
Immediately, I turned and glared at her, "Stop right there. You know that we don't have money to go shopping. Sit back in your seat and shut up; if you really want clothes, then cut up yours to look like the slutty clothing the rest of these bimbos are wearing. And don't ask again," I ordered; Mom didn't say anything but her grip tightened on the steering wheel. Ella pouted but sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest and muttering something about bullying.
Mom patted my knee for a second, silently thanking me but refusing to make eye-contact. My beaten and cracked iPod Nano switched from "Panic! At the Disco" to "Icon For Hire". I tapped my fingers on my leg as we continued driving past the town that was what you would expect a town to look like. I doubt you want me to go in a rant about how the buildings were tall and short, brick and wood. Oh, and look there's a grocery store! Because you totally care about what a normal town looks like; I only go on mental rants when it's entirely needed, just so you know.
It wasn't that long until we pulled up in the driveway of our new home. If you're waiting for me to think: "OMG! It's so big! I can't wait to go inside and jump on my huge new bed in my huge new room!" then you're obviously reading the wrong thing, my dear. The house was… average. For one thing it was simply only two stories, it was a faded yellow color, and the shutters were dark blue. There was a one car garage off to the side, which is fine since I don't own a car anyway. Three concrete stairs led up to a crappy concrete "porch" that didn't even cover the whole front wall of the house.
A simple tree swing hung from the huge oak tree that was right in front of the house. There was no fancy white picket fence and we didn't have a whole lot of farm land. Please, the sidewalk was less than four steps away from the concrete steps leading to the door. At least the grass was dark green and the huge oak trees provided some shade for us. Mom pulled up in front of the garage that required you to get out of the car and open it if you wanted to pull your car in. She turned off the car and pulled the key out; we all kind of just sat in silence for a minute or two.
"Well," she finally said hesitantly, "let's try to make the best of it."
I snort, grab my old and damaged brown leather messenger bag from the floor, and get out. "Nice pep talk," I mutter; she shoots me an irritated look, but doesn't reply. Mom goes to pull the sliding doors open to let the twins get out; Ella slumps out of the car. She should be happy that we aren't living in what could be described as a trailer anymore.
"Max," Mom calls, making me turn around just in time to catch the keys she was tossing me. "The movers will be here any second. Would you mind going inside and figure out which rooms the twins and I are getting? Oh, and open some windows too, please," she asks.
I shrug my bag higher up onto my shoulder, "Sure. Come on Ella," I drag her with me.
We trudge up the concrete steps where I push the key into the rusty lock. After a lot of tugging and twisting, I manage to force the door to swing open. I cough as a cloud of dust flies up into my face; Ella laughs at me, which causes her to start coughing, too. I smirked and went inside, blinking rapidly to get the dust out of my eyes before they start to water. Ella starts in the tiny kitchen while I go to the living room; we start opening all the windows to let in some fresh air. As soon as you step inside you're at a staircase then there's a door to the left that leads into what I could only guess was the small master bedroom.
To the right is the living room along with a short hallway that ends at a back door. After passing the living room, you get to the second door in the hall, which is the kitchen. The kitchen has this alcove place where you can put your dining table, I guess. Beside the "master" bedroom is a small bathroom that I suppose is also the "master" bathroom. After opening every window downstairs, I jog upstairs where Ella is already snooping around to find what room she wanted. Right beside the stairs is a bedroom with a bedroom across from it, and there's another bedroom down the hall with a small bathroom.
The last bedroom is basically at the very back of the house, but it had a view of the back yard. All of the bedrooms were pretty much the same size- small. I opened the windows in the last bedroom and then went back downstairs where I found a half-bathroom that I had passed. You know what a half-bathroom is- where there's only a toilet and a sink with no shower or anything. Now, with that long and boring explanation of the house over with, I went back outside to help Mom with the little bit of stuff we had in the van. Not surprisingly, Ella had already ditched helping us to text some of her friends; the twins were on the tree swing already.
I had "All Time Low" blasting out of my iPod speakers as I stripped to get in painting clothes. By painting clothes I basically mean some pink sweatpants that I have never worn. I only have them because Ella gave them to me for my 17th birthday last year when she knew I would hate them. That's why I'm allowing them to get ruined with paint along with the ugliest rainbow tank-top I own. The tank was a present from Ella as well except it was from my 15th birthday; she gives me stuff I hate in the hopes I'll give it to her. I dip my painting roller into the dark, dark purple paint I had in a pan on my new hard white-purple floor.
The choices for my walls were either dark purple or dark blue. I figured the dark purple would go better with my floor, so that's basically all I'm going to be doing for the next couple of hours. Since you obviously don't care about how I danced around my empty room while painting, I'll move on. After about three and a half hours of just painting my room, it was time to get everything into my room. I dragged the parts of my metal bed into the room and then got to work on putting it together. It was a canopy bed except I don't put the canopy over my bed, so I just had the poles up.
"Max!" Ella ran into my bedroom after another hour of me working on my room. She glanced around and wrinkled up her nose at the smell of the fresh paint. After she realized I was staring at her, she continued, "Oh, right. Mom says that Nana left you some antiques and the mover people are going to just put them outside of your bedroom so you can bring them in or whatever."
I nod, "Cool."
She just stands there, watching me put the last pole on. "What?" she snaps after I stare back at her.
"Get out," I snap back, gesturing to my door.
Rolling her eyes, she stomps back out, "Mom said we're having cereal for dinner!"
"Whatever," I yell back.
So, I had chosen the bedroom with the view of the backyard in case you were wondering. Ella was on the second floor with me and the twins; Mom, of course, got the "master" bedroom. All the bedrooms were the same size, so it didn't really matter what bedroom we grabbed. The twins had to share a room like always, but they were more than fine with it; they each got a half of the room. See, all that arguing about the big room in the car was completely useless now. I had a migraine the enter ride for no reason; that just isn't fair to my poor brain- it deserves better.
"MAX! Froot Loops or Frosted Flakes?!" Gazzy screamed from downstairs.
"Froot Loops!" I screamed back; pulling my mattress onto the spine of my bed; that sounded weird.
"WHAT?!" he screamed back; I sighed. After getting my mattress situated, I went downstairs.
