Flight Path
Summary:
What if the School never existed? What if the Flock were just normal
kids? If you want to know, read on…
Fandom:
Maximum Ride
Pairings:
None as of yet - I'm working on it. I'm still unsure if I should
take the slashy path…
Warnings:
Bad language, underage drinking and smoking, sex drugs and rock 'n'
roll
Disclaimer:
See that word back there? It says 'disclaimer. If I owned these
characters, it would not be a disclaimer. Do we see the connection
here, dear readers?
Author's
Note: I've changed Ari's age so he's at high school with Max
and Co. It just makes life easier, okay? The fic is AU for a reason…
It's my birthday tomorrow! Free cake for all – especially if you review!
Chapter 3 – Ain't it Fun
So
you come up to me and spit right in my face
And
I didn't even feel it – it was such a disgrace
Punched
my fist right through the glass
But
I didn't even feel it – it happened so fast
from Ain't it Fun by Guns 'n' Roses
XxXxXxX
Not for the first time that day, Jamie wondered why the hell he'd taken computing as a subject. The teacher had told them where to sit, so he didn't even have anyone to talk to when he got bored. He already knew all the crap the teacher was babbling about; and he really had better things to do than type up an essay on how the advent of the word processor had affected the business world.
So he did what anyone else in his situation would do – went online.
Of course the school had filters to keep students away from the more…interesting…sites. But in Jamie's opinion, getting around them was half the fun. He logged onto his usual messenger, and was glad to se a few of his contacts online.
----------
BiTeMeBiTcH
has joined the conversation
SaveThePlanetKillYourself
has joined the conversation
BiTeMeBiTcH
wrote:
remind
me why i picked this?
SaveThePlanetKillYourself
wrote:
Do
I look like I know?
BiTeMeBiTcH
wrote:
no
bt then u never do lol
SaveThePlanetKillYourself
wrote:
Drop
the chatspeak. You know I hate it.
BiTeMeBiTcH
wrote:
Why
d'you think I'm doing it?
SaveThePlanetKillYourself
wrote:
Look
out – teacher heading your way!
BiTeMeBiTcH has left the conversation
----------
"James
Griffiths!" the teacher snapped; "What are you doing?"
"The
essay, sir," Jamie lied calmly, "Like you told us to."
The teacher snorted – he knew damn well that Jamie never worked in class. However, he also knew that Jamie had already forgotten more about computers than he would ever know, so he let it go. Andrew winked at Jamie across the classroom. He tapped his wrist, and Jamie glanced at his watch. Excellent – only five minutes to lunch. He exaggeratedly mouthed 'pizza place?' at Andrew, who nodded.
School lunches could only be described as 'awful' by even the most charitable of people. This was why few people ever ate them any more, preferring to either bring their own or sneak off to the nearest fast-food joint. The pizza place on the other side of the train line did a roaring trade at lunchtime, packed to the gills with students who would rather take their chances with heart-attacks than brave the school's gruel. The queue was already out of the door when Andrew and Jamie arrived.
"I'll
go in for it," Jamie said; "What d'you want?"
"Nothing,"
Andrew replied reluctantly; "I had to put my lunch money to the
electricity bill."
"I'll
get you something."
"No,
don't-"
"Andrew,
be quiet. Just stay there while I go get us some lunch – I know
damn well you won't get anything tonight." He disappeared inside
the building.
The sad thing, Andrew reflected, was that it was true. The health teacher had told them that four meals a day were essential for proper health, as was eight hours of sleep a night. This had come as news to Andrew, who had been living for years on one or two meals a day and less than four hours of sleep a night. He was too young to get a job, and his mom barely earned minimum wage, so there was never enough to go around. It was almost impossible to feed four people on that amount of money – he'd lost count of the number of times he and his mom had gone hungry so that the girls could eat. He usually had dinner, and occasionally lunch, but that was it. He wished that Jamie wouldn't insist on buying lunch for him – it felt wrong, but he wasn't about to turn down free food. Years of experience had taught him to never turn down free anything.
"Your boyfriend treating you to lunch, faggot?"
Andrew closed his eyes, sighing in resignation; gods no, I cannot be bothered with Aaron Batchelder right now… He looked up at the ominous figure looming over him and raised an eyebrow carefully gauged to cause maximum offence. Aaron's – actually rather pretty, why do assholes have all the luck? – girlfriend was standing behind him. She shot Andrew an apologetic glance, and he tried to remember her name. It was Geri or Jenny or something like that, he was pretty sure…
Oh yeah – Aaron.
"Why
don't you crawl into a hole somewhere and die?" Andrew said
wearily, his tone suggesting that he had far more important things
than Aaron to worry about. Aaron did not seem to appreciate this.
"You
watch your mouth, you little piece of shit."
"Leave
him alone, Ari," the girlfriend – Jessie, that was it –
pleaded. Aaron hesitated.
"Alright…if
it bothers you that much, sweetheart."
And that might have been the end of it, if Andrew hadn't laughed; "Pussywhipped!"
Afterwards he would admit that it had been a pretty damn stupid thing to do, but he couldn't have stopped himself for a pile of cash a mile high. That was his problem – he never could stop himself, no matter what the consequences. It was worth the inevitable fight for the look on the asshole's face. The crowd stared at him in a mixture of admiration and pity, as in; 'I admire your bravery, but you are about to get seven colours of shit kicked out of you'.
Andrew wasn't quite fast enough to dodge the first blow, and it caught him right on the cheekbone. But his mom's string of boyfriends had been good for something, even if it was only practice in the fine art of being a punchbag. He staggered a little but recovered quickly, and he was ready for the second punch when it came. He blocked it with his forearm, wincing slightly at the pain, and brushed the arm aside to get in behind the larger boy's guard. Andrew's head snapped forward and connected with the bridge of Aaron's nose – there was a sharp crack, and he cried out in pain as blood spurted from the wound. Andrew blinked and shook his head to clear the black spots dancing in front of his eyes. Head-butt on top of a hangover – never a good idea.
It was the hangover that he blamed afterwards, because Aaron recovered faster than he did. A vicious blow to the side of the chest left him gasping for breath, and he felt something crack. The second, moments after the first, was right in the face. Andrew spat blood – right. He'd had enough of playing by the rules.
Another punch was probably aimed for his chin, but he turned and sidestepped neatly so it sailed past his shoulder. He grabbed the wrist and wrenched it down, at the same time pushing up with his shoulder – there was a sickening, gristly noise as Aaron's elbow bent the wrong way, and he cried out in pain. Andrew's elbow shot back, catching the other in the stomach before he'd had time to recover, and the smaller boy turned with murder in his eyes…
It was at this point the staff came out to break it up.
Awed, if somewhat nervous stares followed them all the way back to the school. Andrew spent most of the walk ranting, while Jamie smiled, nodded, and occasionally passed him a slice of pizza.
"…stupid
fucking idiot can't just leave me alone, my mom's gonna kill me
when she sees I've been fighting again – and I'm going to
fucking kill him if I get a black eye!"
"What
was it about this time?" Jamie asked lazily.
"Oh,
you know how Emma Hansen went around telling everyone we were going
out after that party last month? Well apparently that idiot still
believes her."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Yes,
it's a problem," Jamie looked at Andrew thoughtfully; "Pizza?"
TO BE CONTINUED
