Please Read! This is different from the previous chapters and has more information so yeah. Please! I know you hate me and stuff and I am so sorry!
Chapter 2. I know you guys all hate me, but I'm typing as fast as I can, and I only got 2 reviews for the last chapter. Please Review! Here we go. I really am sorry you guys! Thank you for reading though. I understand if you hate me and you don't want to review but thank you for reading.
I opened the door and called into the living room, "Mom, Ella, I'm home!"
Ella came thumping down the stairs and into the living room. I threw my backpack onto one of the red leather couches decorating the room. Surrounded by the couches was a glass topped coffee table which currently had my dad's unfinished crossword from this morning and an empty coffee mug laying on it. The 55' flat screen TV was mounted on the wall across from the 3 seater sofa. There were paintings by unknown artists scattered across the wall in an unorderly fashion but that just made them stand out even more.
I plopped down on the couch after my backpack, the sofa soft and dipping underneath my weight just as Ella asked, "Is it true Dylan asked you out on a date?"
"Um... yes, but you shouldn't be surprised. I've been going out with him for a week now and you already knew that." I responded while pulling out my homework from my pack along with a pencil and a giant pink eraser. You don't get academic awards by not doing your homework you know.
"I'm not surpised."
"Well, I am. I just got home from school a minute ago and you already know what happened,"
"I keep up with facebook updates and blogs at a second to second basis. DUH!" she said waving her Sprint HTC around. Oh yeah, did I mention that girl has to have her phone with her wherever she goes. She's addicted to it, without it she would have no social life. I mean, it's like their married and she's an overprotective spouse who doesn't let the other out of sight. I once rigged her room with booby traps which she survived through no problem, but then I took away her phone for 2 seconds and when she realized it was gone (which wasn't to long after- i swear she would even shower with that thing if it was waterproof) she freaked out. One more thing my 14 year old, brunette sister with larger, chocolate colored eyes and a keen sense of fashion and gossip, is totally in love with is her clothes. Speaking of the little devils.
"Whatever, I'm excited. I get to dress you up and make you pretty, but you have absolutely no sense of fashion and your wardrobe is drab," Jee sis, way to make me feel better, "So I am going to dress you up in mine though they might be tight, but that's fine. They'll show off the little curves you have. Another thing: I was still developing and my little sister was almost done. She looked like a model with her perfectly curled hair glittering tank top and jean skirt.
"Absolutely not,"
"Yes, in fact let's get started. We only have 3 hours until your date and we need all that time to count.
3 hrs later:
I stood in front of the full length mirror in my bathroom. My sister had brought all her torture tools (don't really know the names of them because I am a total tomboy and if I did, it would ruin my image) and killed my hair until it fell perfectly straight, midway down my back. She shoved colored chemicals that I didn't even want to know the names of onto my face and used a tweezer on all the little fine hairs that I didn't even know were there.
Even though I didn't totally approve of her dressing me up like a barbie doll and taking 3 freaking hours to do it too -I still didn't get homework done- I looked pretty good. I was wearing one of Ella's midnight blue dresses- yes, one of them, she has 4- with a pair of turquoise laid in silver earrings and a matching necklace. I had manged to talk Ella into not making me wear her high heels so on my feet, I had on a pair of black flats.
"Wow, I did a pretty good job if I do say so myself. I think I should start a before and after column online and you can be my first model," she said whipping out her phone, snapping a picture, then darting out my room.
It took me a while to register what just happened, but when I did, I yelled, "Ella, you better not do anything! Get over here!" and started chasing after her.
I sprinted out my room and down the steps my heavy footsteps thudding along the hardwood floor. Thank god for flats. I ran into the kitchen just before Ella threw her arms around mom's waist and grinned. I groaned. When we were little, we used to love playing tag, but we could never end the game. So we decided whoever hug mom first won and the other couldn't get back at them.
"Hey, Max," mom said nonchalantly. "You gonna eat pizza with us? It is pizza night."
Shit, I totally forgot, but now that Mom mentioned it I could see the counter was littered with partly chopped vegetables and uncooked pork and pepperoni. Shoot, she was making my favorite: pepperoni and pork. I could smell the aroma in the air. I tilted my head back and sniffed, moaning in pleasure. Ok, that sounded wrong.
I groaned, "What is it? Deprive-Max-of-her-favorite-foods Day? First, I don't get bacon for breakfast, then I don't get pizza for dinner! What's up with that?"
Mom chuckled.
"Maybe it's Help-Max-Go-On-A-Diet-And-Lose-Weight Day," Ella said with a wink letting go of my mom's waist. Just then the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," I yelled running to the door and yanking it open. Dylan was waiting on the steps to our house with a bouquet of roses in his hand. He tugged at the collar of his shirt nervously. He was wearing a nice button down shirt and black pants.
"You look nice," he said, his eyes roaming, prodding my body.
"Thank you. You too," I said sheepishly, then called out to mom, "Mom, Dylan's here. Imma go now, k."
"Sure thing, Max. Just be home before I go to sleep."
My mom loved her beauty sleep and was always very angry whenever someone interupted it. I grabbed my purse from the little side table by the door and walked out with Dylan, looping my arms into his. He lead me to his car which was parked crookedly on the driveway as if he was in a rush and opened the passenger door for me again. I stepped inside with a nod in his direction to indicate my thanks, and then he got in the car himself and started it up. After backing out, he kept one hand on the steering wheel while he drove and the other intertwined with mine. I smiled and rolled down the window, sticking my head out and enjoying the rush of the cold wind stinging my face and throwing around my hair. I laughed and Dylan laughed along with me. Ella would be so mad that I must ruined her hard work.
About 20 minutes later, Dylan pulled up into a very snazzy looking club called the Night Ride. He rushed out of the car and opened the passenger door for me again. Ok this is getting really annoying. I admit I like the fact he is being very romantic and gentleman like but seriously, I can open a car door for myself. I grabbed my purse and raked my fingers through my hair trying to settle it down after it was whipped around in the wind.
Dylan pushed my hand out of my hair, "Don't," he said, "I like it just the way it it."
I was tempted to giggle, but I held it in. I didn't giggle, no tomboys did. I think.
He pulled me to the entrance of the club ignoring the long line and the rude remarks the people who were waiting were throwing at us. He walked right up to the giant man in a XXXXL tuxedo and exclaimed, "Dylan."
The man's muscles rippled as he flipped through the sheets on his clipboard. He was currently standing behind the counter and manning it, making sure all the guests entering were on the list. Dang, if this was the size of the receptionist person, I wouldn't want to know how big the bodyguards or guards would be.
"Of course sir, come right in." The man said, pulling away the red rope and allowing us access into a club blazing with lights and music and ignoring the groans of protests behind him.
Dylan led me in, "So what do you think?"
"Are you sure we're allowed to be here," I yelled, trying to make myself heard over all the yelling, cheering and music blasting.
"OF course! It's senior year! Live a little!" With that he dragged me over to the bar and ordered two shots.
"We're not old enough to drink," I tried to tell him.
"In this place we are. My dad owns this thing," he said nonchalantly.
"WOW!" I exclaimed. My ears were hurting from all the loud noise and my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. The barman came back with our shots but I politely refused to drink mine. Dylan looked at the barman and exchanged a knowing glance. Then he picked up the shot glass and shoved it in my face.
"Drink it," he said firmly raising his voice. Whether it was because he was mad or because he wanted to make himself heard, either way it sounded threatening.
"I'm not old enough," I said just as firmly putting up a brave front.
"Oh, come one, of course you're old enough. I had my first drink when I was 15. You'll be fine."
"OK," I said uncertainly. I grabbed the cup and drank it all down in a single gulp. I shook my head, my ears were buzzing and my throat burned. It tasted horrible but I wanted more. "Waiter, 6 more shots please!"
"That's the way it done Max," Dyland said, looking pleased.
After my 4th shot, Dylan grabbed me and pulled me close. His breath reeked, but then again so did mine.
"Want to go dancing, babe?"
"Yes," I giggled. This time I pulled him onto the dance floor. They were playing a dirty song and it suited me just fine. I began to sway my hips in time with the music. Throwing my arms around and whipping my hair. I noticed some other couples doing an even dirtier dance, so I tried it just to fit in. I was totally drunk by now. I grabbed Dylan around his waist and pulled him closer so out bodies were touching. He wasn't much taller than me, only a few inches, so I didn't have a tough time. I began to roll my hips and grind into him. I heard him moan and I increased my pace. This was fun, but I wanted more. After a pulling out a couple more loud groans from his mouth, I yanked him throught the crowd and pushed him up against the wall straddling him. I shoved my lips against his and he moaned again. One of his arms found his way to my ass and squezed while the other tangled itself in my hair. My hands found their way to his hair and yanked him closer. I licked his lips as the speed of the kiss increased. I could feel tiny sparks as my lips pushed against his. He tilted his head angling himself better and turned around, shoving me against the wall. He hand still caressed my ass while his tounge licked my lips and asked for entrance. I gladly complied, opening my mouth and shoving my tounge out to meet his. He pulled back for a few seconds trying to catch his breath and I just smirked. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a furious redhead stalking towards us. I pushed Dylan back a little and glared at her. How dare she interupt me.
Dylan saw me looking and glanced in that direction and paled. Then he quickly regained his composure and smirked. The redhead came closer. Her face was caked in make up and she was dressed like a slut. Short skirt that revealed her more of her ass than should be revealed and a tube top that pushed up her breasts to show cleavage.
She walked up like she was queen of the world and started yelling, "How dare you? You're making out with my boyfriend."
"Your boyfriend! He's my boyfriend!" Wow, that girl was a wonder, accusing me of making out with her boyfriend. Imma call her the Redhead Wonder.
"No, Dylan's mine. He became mine when we had sex together last week. Tell her Dylan," she said looking at him. He hadn't said anything yet and was just standing there quietly.
"Yeah, its true, but Max is also my girlfriend," he said, not trying to deny it.
"What the hell! You were cheating on me with this slut! I can't belive it!"
"Max, calm down. I wasn't cheating on you. I like you maybe even love you but you weren't having sex with me and I needed something to do at night. I mean I started dating you because your name was Maximum Ride, but then I started liking you. You were pretty, smart, funny-"
"Ahem," Redhead Wonder coughed, "Aren't you forgetting something. You said you would ditch her because I was the best fuck buddy you ever had."
"Well, I changed my mind. And I still haven't fucked Max yet. Say, let's have a threesome tonight, then I will decide whom I wanna keep," Dylan said.
"Fine with me," Redhead Wonder said. Ew, not only was she a slut, she was a freaking lesbian too.
"No, aboslutely not." I said. I slapped the Redhead Wonder across the face and punched Dylan's nose, "that's what you get for being a bitch, and that's what you get for leading me on." I yelled stomping away. I heard the Redhead Wonder say something about no one calling her a bitch and then I felt somthing hit the back of my head hard.
Shit, she threw her 7'' high heel show at me, I realized while rubbing the back of my head. I whipped a bottle from the bar, snapped it and half, and threw the end with the bottle neck straigh at Redhead Wonder. It hit her square in the chest, the broken park embedded in her and the neck sticking out from her tube top. The once white tube top was now turning red. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was drawn in a tight line of disbelief. Then she fell down. Probably dead, and I didn't move. Not when Dylan leaned over the body yelling Lissa or when the music stopped playing and the entire club turned to stare at me or even when my stomach flip flopped inside of me. I moved when I saw Dylan get up, his face a mask of anger and say, "You killed her."
I turned and ran, straight into the bathroom to throw up. I had actually killed someone. Me, perfect Maximum Ride, killed somebody and it was all Dylan's fault.
Once again, I am so very sorry about the delay. I'm doing the best I can. And yes rereading is a good thing so is rereviewing, but if u dont wanna review thats okay... I understand.
Quesion of the day: Is the story more interesting than it was before or worse?
Reviews please...PLEASE :)
~~~~Xia~~~~