Miso: do you guys know just how many times I did and redid and redid this chapter? the first version I had ended up taking too long to get to the point (at least I found it tedious) so I erased that (especially since everyone seems to fucking start off with Max waking up in the morning and decking her alarm clock; I found it too cliché—no offense—and I hate being cliché), then the second version sucked monkey ass. then this third version came out and finally I was at an impasse with myself, even though I'm still kinda not happy with it.
Revv: you did your best.
Miso: I hope I did. I'm just surprised I haven't completely given up on this story considering the years it took me to actually get off my ass and redo it. Lost Inside… not so much… I keep cringing every time I look at the writing style and compare it to my present's.
Revv: *pats* I'm proud of you, though! :)
Miso: thanks.
Hawk Eyes
Chapter 1
Warning: none for this chapter.
Max
I stared deep into the eyes that were just a few desks and student heads in front of me.
I was in my AP Literature class.
And for the first day of school, it was actually sort of nice. Or boring, depended on how you saw it. On one hand, we didn't have any class work but on the other, there wasn't really much to do. As was to be expected on the first day, we were supposed to get to know each other in the class.
At least that's what Mrs. Pierre was hoping for. But everyone had either deviated towards friends they already knew or stayed in their seat.
All in all, it was clear our teacher had given up, seeing as how she was now rifling through the papers on her desk, looking rumpled and put out.
I, of course, had chosen to remain in my seat. Since TC and Alexis didn't have fourth block with me, I was pretty much on my own until my last class rolled around then my free period. Not that I didn't mind. As you already knew—or should know anyway—I'm not exactly the social butterfly.
Anyway, I was doodling away in my notebook—a little picture of some freshman, who was clearly too smart for his age to be in a college level class, sleeping on his desk and before you ask, I did not acquire any special artistic traits while I was previously on the run; it was a mixture between a stick figure and roughly irregular shapes in the corner of the page, so one could hardly call it Da Vinci Award-winning—when the door opened.
I paid no attention, or course. Like I said, it was the first day of the school year; no one was going to come early (or late, considering my fourth starts after lunch). And if one was a senior that was a given.
I'm surprised I showed up. I wasn't going to. But then figured, I might as well since I had nothing to do in my apartment. It's been that way for a while.
I was about to add a snot bubble on the kid when Mrs. Pierre clapped her hands twice to get everyone's attention. I flinched at the unexpected sound. You never knew how much louder that kind of clapping can get until you're a genetically altered mutant freak with enhanced hearing. I looked up anyhow…
…and was immediately lost in a pair of eyes so deep I thought I was literally drowning.
I couldn't stop myself. I didn't even hear as Mrs. Pierre introduced his name but it didn't matter. I already knew it anyway. He may have physically changed so much in appearance that I could barely recognize him but I could never mistake those eyes and the intensity that was in them.
No one had eyes like Fang.
I didn't know what I wanted to do as he was told to find a seat (or "Make some friends! I'm sure someone would love to know where you've come from, Mr. Morgan," was Mrs. Pierre's futile request, for no one moved besides a few of the girls who turned their heads to give him goo-goo eyes) and he sat two desks to the left behind me.
I wanted turn around and meet his eyes again. I wanted to write a note but wasn't quite sure what to write. All that kept tumbling through my head was, didn't he recognize me?
He'd walked right past the glaringly empty desk beside me. He could have sat next to me yet he didn't. But I was sure it was him—or at least, I hoped.
Out of the fifty states and a hundred-and-something other countries on the planet, what's the likelihood that he'd end up here?
In New York?
In the same school?
It could just as easily be someone else who had black eyes, but even as I thought that I found myself dropping that theory as fast as it had come.
No one had eyes like Fang.
And then there was the fact that I had seen the same recognition gleaming in his eyes that I was sure was mirrored in my own.
It shouldn't have mattered, but I found myself wishing that it did. I doubt he would have wanted a note from me. And I wouldn't blame him. Years ago, I had given him one before but I wasn't actually there to give it to him in person. Past experience told me it would be forbidden for me to even flick a folded up note onto his desk with something akin to, long time no see.
I barely heard as the bell rung for my fifth period class. I could no longer concentrate on my doodle to pass the time, but even then my consuming thoughts had made AP Lit seem shorter than it was supposed to.
I couldn't look at him as I gathered my things. I knew he was looking at me—I could feel him boring holes to the back of my head—but the intense guilt sinking into my gut made it difficult for me to meet his eyes for a second time.
He gave me no choice, however.
Before I could reach the door, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It wasn't rough, nor was it accusing, but that just made it all the worse for me.
"Max?"
I closed my eyes and inhaled, trying to build back my emotions from the crumbling pile on the floor. "Meet me at Rachel's after school."
And with that, I disappeared among the throng in the hall and headed for my next class.
Miso: so… how was that? I'm already working on chapter 2 as we speak. I decided to use Walker as Fang's last name. Mostly because I'm too lazy to find another and is gonna use that one for now and partially because... well, everyone seems to be using it. I haven't read Fang or Angel or Nevermore yet, so not sure if he got it in those last three. Then again, this story occurs after School's Out—Forever.
Please leave a review. I really want to know if I'm doing this right, because truly, I suck at writing.
Miso out.
