AN: This is my first story, so I would appreciate the R&R a lot! I'll try to update every week!
Disclaimer: I don't own the MR characters (though I wish I did!)
Fang's POV
Buzzzzzzzzzzzz!
I bolt up in bed and slap my alarm clock. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I stumbled to my drawer and throw on a pair of sweats and my tech shirt. Quietly, I creep out my door past Nudge's room and clomp down the stairs. Grabbing my keys and my iPod, I slip out the door into the chilly morning air.
My breath shoots out in little white puffs as I race across the grass and down the road to the park. Keeping a fast pace, I raced across the damp grass and over the slippery gravel. Making a big circle around the park, I noticed another person my age running ahead of me. OK, no average teenager is up at six in the morning running in the park. Dirty blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, with running shorts and a tech shirt. She looked vaguely familiar, so I assumed she went to another school. But the only other high school around besides mine was at least ten miles away. She didn't look that tired.
She turned, and I got a decent look at her face. She was fair-skinned with high cheekbones and a determined gaze. Her eyes were either light brown or hazel. She was breathing hard, and her face was streaked with sweat. She kept running the other direction. I was tempted to follow her, but I glanced at the sky and noticed the sun was rising. I turned on my heel and jogged back to my house. As I jogged, my usually clear mind was clouded with one thought.
Who was that girl?
When I got home, I quickly showered and changed. I stood in front of the mirror for a long time, studying my face. I hadn't really taken a good look at myself since I was younger. What stared back at my was a boy with olive-toned skin and dark eyes. There is a splash of freckles across my nose, and my long bangs hang down the right side of my face. Slight bags under my eyes are the result of staying up too late and getting up to early to run. I'm six feet tall, and, thanks to my very sudden growth spurt, am quite clumsy when I walk. I tower awkwardly over my fellow juniors. My feet are too big and legs too long, but I guess I should be grateful I'm not short like Nudge, who looks nothing like the sophomore she's supposed to be.
Monique (aka Nudge) is my younger sister, although you could never tell. With her mocha-colored skin, brown hair with pale highlights, and short height, we look nothing alike accept for our dark eyes, and even that's a stretch. Her eyes are wide and innocent with a kind softness to them. My eyes are steely and cold; they never betray any emotions. They say the eyes reflect the soul. I say those people had no idea what they were talking about. Take my wretched father, for instance. His eyes are soft and warm when he looks at Nudge or my mother. When he looks at me, they're cold and vicious and angry. He did tell me that I was the failure of the family. I couldn't agree more. Lousy grades, poor social standings, terrible at any sport that requires a ball or team skills.
My mother, on the other hand, has a beautiful face, marred by the stress from keeping our family afloat when my broke-ass father goes off on a drinking spree in Las Vegas or somewhere. Her eyes are always kind and welcoming, but are sometimes tired and worn out. She's only 42, but she's already growing gray hairs. My sister is the spitting image of my mother when she was her age. I, as much as I hate it, resemble my father when he was a teenager. I hope to not turn out like him, a drunk failure of a father making his wife hold up the family. That is, if I ever get married or have kids.
Anyway, I while I was staring at myself in the mirror, my sister began banging on the door, demanding the use of the bathroom. I yank open the door and shuffle past her. I trotted into the kitchen and found a note from my hard working mother. It read:
Fang-
There is bacon on the table and toast in the freezer. Eggs are in the refrigerator and cereal's in the cupboard. Please eat something this morning. Have a good day at school!
Love,
Mom
Well, another day without saying bye to mom before going to school. Today is Wednesday, so she'll be working a double shift and a night job. Meaning she won't be home until at least midnight. I let out a soft sigh and begin the process of making breakfast.
At 7:30, Iggy showed up at our front door, like always. By then, Nudge and I were finished with breakfast. Iggy is my best friend, and has been since we were in kindergarten. His legal name is James, but no one even remembers that anymore. I'm pretty sure Iggy's forgotten his own name. When we were younger, we used to tell people that we were brothers. Back then it was cute. Now, we looked almost nothing alike, except for our massive height. Iggy's hair is strawberry blonde, almost as pale as his skin tone. He even more clumsy than me, always tripping over his feet. His personality never really changed; it's always been full of sarcastic remarks and smirks. My mother used to say he was a like a breath of fresh air. I'd say he's more like a fart: loud, obnoxious, but can always get you to laugh no matter what the situation. That really came in handy when I was ten and my dad started his drinking sprees that left us almost broke.
Right now, Iggy was giving me one of infamous his half-smirks. Infamous because that could mean that he either 1) has or hid a stink bomb in the vicinity or 2) he's going to noogie you. Thankfully, it was the latter.
"Hey Fang!" he shouted before promptly giving me a harsh noogie. "How's it goin', pal?"
"Fine," I grunted from inside Iggy's armpit, which did not smell fresh at all.
Iggy finally released me and glanced sheepishly at Nudge, who was giggling behind me.
"H-hi Nudge," he stuttered. Whoa, since when did Iggy stutter?
Nudge pushed her way past us, running down to the sidewalk. "C'mon, guys!" she called. "We're gonna be late if you don't hurry up!"
We caught up to Nudge just as a bike came racing down the path.
"Nudge, watch out!" Iggy tackle her onto the grass as I jumped out of the way. The biker sped past us, and called, "Sorry!" over their shoulder. As I watched the biker ride, I realized it was that girl who I saw this morning in the park!
Why do I keep seeing her? I thought, thorough confused.
I looked over at Iggy, who had stumbled to his feet and was helping Nudge up.
"What was that all about?" Nudge exclaimed. "I mean, don't they know the speed limit? And who rides their bike to school anyway? Everyone knows the bike racks aren't safe because last year, Sasha told me..." Subconsciously, Nudge started walking, leaving me and Iggy to jog after her.
Well, I thought the day's sure going to be interesting.