RING, RING, RING!

"Ugh, I hate school," I say.

"Yeah Max, we're in it. Let it go," Miranda, my best friend, says.

I roll my eyes, though I quicken my pace to catch up with her.

"Okay, okay, don't blow your top," I say and quickly stuff the rest of my things into my book bag.

We start pushing against the crowd of people to go to class. My thoughts start to drift to dance practice. Before, you start saying dancing is for sissies, it's not. My dance team is the best in town. I'm not being boastful or anything, we`re just the only real group in our town. The rest are just a bunch of wannabe dancers who have no chance against us, so they stay away. Even they know that they can't dance as well we do.

In a few more hours, we'll be dancing to our heart's desires. Not to mention we'll be out of this hell-hole. We finally arrived at Mrs. Monk's math class. We spot our group of friends and sit right next to them.

"Hey, what's the answer to number 45?" Ella asks, doing yesterday's homework at the last minute.

"28, and if a blonde could do her homework so can you," I say as she quickly scribbles in the last answer.

"Bitch much," Ella responds.

"Whore much," I shoot back. This is just how our friendship works; I'm her bitch and she's my whore.

"Girls: they're so strange," mutters Iggy.

"And your excuse is?" I say in a sickly sweet tone.

"Having a bitch for a twin," he responds with a smirk. His brother is my boyfriend. We started going out last month, we're basically best friends with benefits.

I snort at his comment and quickly start writing down the equations on the board. I tap my pencil on the wooden desk as I try to solve them. Then, our teacher comes blubbering in about something. I quickly start to zone out her boring voice.

As you can see my name is Max, but you have probably already guessed that. I`m in 11th grade and have awesome friends and a fantastic boyfriend.

People sort of call us the weird ones, but we don't listen. We just like to have fun and we`re pretty cool too. We are tight as a knot. My group contains of Ella, JJ, Iggy, Gazzy, Rachel, Leah, Jason and Mason (twins), Jake and Miranda (siblings), Lilly, Mike, April, and lastly Aaron. My dance team consists of eight girls and seven boys.

"Ok, class split into groups of five and start your projects," Mrs. Monk says, her heels clicking on the horribly colored floors of the classroom.

"Um, can someone tell me what we`re doing," I say, turning my head to Ella and Miranda. Iggy just stares like he's still in la la land.

"We have to write a project on some mathematicians," Miranda says, talking out several pencils.

We spend the rest of the class writing a paper on some old guy Miranda suggested. Since she`s the brainiac of our group, we just listen to what she says and write it down. She keeps rambling about how this guy made the decimal system and stuff like that.

The bell rings and Miranda and I leave to English. We sit down next to each other and Miranda starts to sketch. She`s been distracted today, I can tell.

"Miranda, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing," she stutters, and she only does that when she's deep in the thoughts of her mind.

"Miranda, tell me."

"Really, Max it's nothing. I'm just thinking that's all," she continues to sketch.

"When can I see your drawing?"

You might think: Why would want to see her drawing? It's because Miranda is THE best person who can sketch and paint.

"When I finish," she says in a clipped tone.

"Well I can't wait to see it!"

Miranda is 3 years younger than us. The reason for that is because she skipped 3 grades. She's a little smart-ass, but we're still best friends. No matter what though, she`s like a little sister to me. She`s 14, while the rest of us are 17 and 16. People say I act a little bit nicer to her. Which I guess is true, but to her she can't really tell the difference.

"It`ll take me a while, I just started this yesterday," she said as she continued to sketch.

I start to talk to JJ about Aaron`s birthday. He said he didn't want to celebrate, but we`re throwing him a party anyway.

I see Miranda quickly putting her sketch away when our teacher comes in.

He is a nice guy and he doesn't give a lot of homework. His favorite students are Miranda and moi. Since we never miss any homework assignments and we`re great writers.

"Okay, class I want you to write your own stories and they have to be 25 chapters or longer. It will be due in 2 months," he says. In reply to his statement there are moans heard all around the classroom.

We all get into a group and start brainstorming, writing ideas here and there. Except Miranda, she already knows what she`s writing, like I said smartass.

"Ok, how about this mouse goes around the world looking for its lost Swiss cheese. IT'LL BE LIKE A SCARY MYSTERY," Aaron says

"Yeah, because mice are really scary," JJ and I say with sarcasm dripping from our voices. We both smirk at each other.

"It was just an IDEA. Jeez," Aaron replies. We spend the rest of the period coming up with silly stories and goofing around. Once the bell rings everyone basically has an idea of what they`re going to write about; me, I leave English class and go to my locker to put my book-bag away.

With my head held high, I make certain movements to avoid the crowd of teenagers. Heading towards the gym lockers, I hurry up my pace. Gym is the only class the whole group has together. It's quite fun actually. I look at the gym door and take a deep breath and quickly push through the doors.

As you can see, the story has been fixed. :) I have a Beta! So, thank you Saph! SapphireAster is editing the story, so it's now readable. Enjoy!

- S&C