My first fanfic posted on this site. Email me, review, anything. I would certainly like some feedback.
Disclaimer: I do not own Igby Goes Down, or any other things used in this fic. But the girl, I don't exactly OWN her, she is a friend.
Igby Gets Up.
Chapter 1
Igby stepped out of the Taxi he had taken from the airport. The only bag he had brought with him, a small suitcase on wheels, in his hand. And that was all he had, and nothing more.
He looked around. He was standing on a rather busy sidewalk, on the side of a rather busy street. California, finally. He had gotten out of that hellhole some called New York, and now he had nothing but his future in front of him. He wouldn't have to deal with his family or any of those fucks that had made his life a living hell ever again.
But he would have to deal with the fact he had no home, no friends, and hardly any money. And this would be a problem. He didn't know what to do, or where to start doing this unknown activity. So he decided he'd walk up and down the street until he found a motel or something. Anything cheap, since he hardly had any money.
So Igby started walking down the street dragging his suitcase behind him, and suddenly craving a smoke. He had taken maybe 6 or 7 steps when someone managed to trip over his suitcase. The man didn't fall, but stumbled, then turned and glared at Igby.
"Watch where you're going with that thing, Asshole!"
"…Sorry.." Igby squeaked in return, but the man had already disappeared into the crowd, and this made the now 18 year-old boy feel even more alone.
He pulled his suitcase over to the side of the sidewalk, where fewer people seemed to be walking and stopped to reach into his pocket. After digging for several seconds he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and removed one, delicately placing it in between his lips. He then went back into his pocket and took out a lighter. He lit the cigarette, and took one puff when a large woman in a hurry walked straight into him. He fell onto the sidewalk, dropping his cigarette and watching it go into the busy street in front of him, and the woman walked off without a word of apology.
"Ugh…" Igby groaned, about to pull himself up. But then a hand appeared in front of his face, accompanied by a low feminine voice.
"Looks like you could use a boost, 'ey?" For a second he stared at the hand, wondering why it was there. Then he realized he was being offered help. So he reached up and grabbed the hand, not realizing this one single decision would change the course of his life completely.
The person helped him up, and he found himself standing face to face with a tall smiling woman. Her brown wavy hair curled around her pale face, two bleached pieces hanging in front of her strange blue-framed glasses, hiding her two large brown eyes behind a layer of glass. He stared at her, surprised this woman had helped him. She looked maybe 19 or 20, and he thought she was beautiful.
"Well, New Yorker boy, can I at least get a thank you?" She asked him after a couple seconds of him staring at her speechlessly.
"Oh.. Oh, I'm sorry, th- thank you." He finally told her.
"You're very welcome."
"Wait-a-second… How did you know I was from New York?!" He asked, finally snapping out of the trance he had been in.
"I had a hunch. You looked out of place, and it reminded me of home. I'm good at that, telling where people are from and such," She told him, her smile changing into an expression of curiosity. "But I can tell more about you then just that. You look troubled."
"No, Not at all. My life isn't a complete and total fucking mess. I didn't just show up in California with no idea where I'm going or what I'm doing. Everything is just fine." Igby told her in his usual sarcastic tone.
"Now isn't that an obvious lie."
"So you have two talents now. You can tell where a persons from and if they're lying or not."
"Now aren't you the rude one…"
He looked shocked. "Oh.. I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to.."
"No, It's good. It reminds me of home again." She said to him, smiling reassuringly. He liked her smile. It was soft and it seemed almost when she smiled she was really just whispering about how fucked the world was into his ear.
For about half a minute they both stood there in an awkward silence. Why did she help me? Igby thought to himself, And why is she still talking to me? She noticed the unsure look in his eyes.
"Oh, I'm sorry.. do you have somewhere you need to be going?" She asked him.
"No.. No where at all. Unless.. you'd like to go somewhere more quiet maybe.. since it is loud here, and getting a little bit hard to carry on a conversation in this crowd."
She smiled again. "I was hoping you'd say something around those lines."
He liked her reply. "But, do you know anywhere? As you can tell, I'm new here, and a guide would be rather helpful."
She gave him a thumbs-up sign. "I'm your girl then. There's a nice little coffee place right down the street," She held out an arm signaling the direction to walk, "Shall I lead the way?"
"Yes please." He nodded and grabbed his suitcase, and the two of them began to walk down the sidewalk.
A couple minutes later they sat across from eachother at a small table next to the window in the café. Igby was about to pick up a menu, since he hadn't eaten all day and it was almost 2 o'clock when he realized something.
"You never told me your name."
"How's this, lets order something and I'll give you my life story."
"And in return?"
"I obviously want yours."
Igby nodded and grabbed a menu. "What's good here?" he asked her.
"The food is." She replied.
"Well, that's helpful."
After a minute their waitress showed up. Igby ordered a burger and fries. The woman ordered a vanilla milkshake.
"So, a name then?" He pleaded with her.
"Alright. My full name is Madeleine. Strange one, eh?" She said, her voice sounding not very pleased with this.
"Well.. yes. But then again, you haven't heard mine yet." He told her, "That's a French name isn't it?"
"Yes, My name's French, but I'm not." He chuckled at her. "Yep, laugh all you like."
"I will," Igby told her, "Believe me, I will."
"That's sweet," she said sarcastically. "Well I'd prefer you just call me Mads." He nodded. "And so I'll tell you about myself now. I'm 19, and an art student. I'm majoring in animation, I want to make cartoons. I want to make cartoons and I want people all over the world to watch them and then laugh. Not like that shit they show on Nickelodeon. I want real humor! The genuine stuff!"
Igby chuckled, "I'd watch."
"If I make it, you better." She commanded a mischievous tone in her voice.
"Yessir! I obey!" Igby responded quickly, pretending to bow down to her.
"Exactly. So.. okay, Well I'll sum up my life quick. I lived in the suburbs, outside New York City, and I hated my home, my friends, my parents, and basically everything else there with the ability to be hated. When I was 15 I ran away. I stayed with a friend I met online for a couple months. Then I realized online people are still people. So.. I went home. After that my parents managed to hate me more then before and kept me locked in the house 24/7.. other than school."
"That must have been fun." Igby said.
"Extremely. But being locked in a small room with nothing does have its advantages. I dedicated most of my life to drawing and writing. So now I'm going to make cartoons. And I want to be famous. I badly want to be famous. So after I graduated high school, I got out of New York as fast as humanly possible and now I'm here, living alone in a small apartment with a drawing board in California. The end."
As she finished, the waitress returned with their food. Igby nodded. "Interesting life story."
"Just interesting? I'm expecting something special from you then.. and start with your name."
"Alright. My name is Igby." At that Mads began laughing hysterically. "Nice. Do you want me to continue?"
"Yes… Yeah," She gasped for air, and tried to stop laughing, "It's just.. Igby… that is the coolest name ever…"
"Well, my life is fucked."
"Then go ahead, tell me about it!"
So Igby did.
