I don't own MR
You know, honestly, I loved Sam, and even though this was the second day, I was already annoyed that his ringtone was waking me up ten minutes earlier than my alarm would. "What do you want, Sam?" I growled out, exhausted.
"I'm sorry for waking you, Sleeping Beauty, but I have a big problem." Sam's voice shook slightly- not enough for him to be terrified- yet the quiver told me something was wrong.
"What's going on, Sammy Boy?" I asked slowly, my anger fading.
"Remember Holden?" Sam whispered, and I heard a door shut, meaning he had locked himself in his room. Holden... Holden? Did I remember a Holden? Oh yeah!
"Leader of that gang we were in, right?" I asked. We switched around a few times, Holden was the first though.
"Yeah." My heart ached at the way he said it. As if 'yeah' meant the world was going to plummet from right under his feet. "And, he wants me to this thing for him- the only problem, it involves killing someone- Max, I'm not a killer! I can't do it! But he's gonna..." Sam's voice broke and I mentally slapped myself. Of course this guy wanted to use Sam, he was my best friend, and Holden and I... let's just say he doesn't forget the past.
"Sammy Boy, slow down, relax. How big of a deal is this kill?" I asked quietly, hearing creaking steps out in the hall.
"He said if the guy isn't dead in forty eight hours, then he's gonna take it out on my family."
"Holy Crap! Sam! What the hell did you get yourself into? I want Angel and Gaz at my house by four, got it?" I snapped, not even bothering to ask what 'family' meant.
"Max, you're family too." Sam added quietly and I huffed.
"Who's gotta go down?" I asked, pulling on some ripped up black skinny jeans and an old red tank top while I squeezed the phone between my ear and my shoulder. The ripped up uniform was plan B, though hopefully they'd learn after the first week that I wouldn't follow dress code for nothing.
"This guy, Racket or something like that." Sam mumbled.
"Ratchet, you mean?" I asked, sighing deeply.
"Uh, yeah, how'd you know?" Sam asked.
"I helped him break into a house last night." I muttered, pulling on my red converse high tops and my leather jacket, trying to brush my teeth and listen to Sam at the same time.
"That's great! I have a location! Maybe I could pay somebody to do it? I can't do it, Max! Oh, I just can't!" Sam added and I could practically hear the poor guy hyperventilating.
"Cool your Jalapenos, dude. I'll get Ratchy down with the Devil, okay?" I muttered, and rinsed my mouth.
"Max, no. you've already been to juvie, on probation, and don't even get me started with license suspensions." Sam snarled.
"Aw! You've really been keeping up with your bad girl, huh?" I asked. "Well, listen Sam, I've killed before. I can do it again. In fact, that rat might be around when I go to school. All it will take is a minor pressure point to end him. I got this." I said and hung up. Then ran a brush through my hair before walking down the stairs in no rush and drinking right from the milk carton on the table. Lissa gagged, Iggy smirked, Kole giggled, and Ari snatched the milk away from me.
I glared down at him playfully while me mimicked me, drinking straight from the carton. "Hey, listen here, Chico, in my world, this is what happens when you steal people's milk." I grabbed it and poured what was left all over him.
He sucked in a breath from the coldness and shivered. "God Max!" Me mumbled, just as Brigid walked in, blinked, tried to glare at me, then snarled for Ari to clean up this mess and wash himself up with the hose. Fang chose that moment to walk in.
"Hey Garden boy!" I muttered, throwing a paper towel on Ari's head as Brigid began to notice what I was wearing.
"Max, your clothes look like you're still living in the streets." Brigid sneered.
"Yeah, you need a whole new wardrobe. SHOPPPING SPREE!" She shrieked, I covered my ears.
"Your voice is so nasally, the Nanny cringes." I muttered, grabbing my messenger bag before walking out the door, leaving Ari to clean up a mess, Lissa to whine to her mother, and Iggy to follow me- wait what? He walked out the door with a piece of toast and handed it to me. I grinned at him and gobbled it down.
"I think you need me to know where skoolio is." He said.
"Better than the freaks in that house showing me, I guess." I muttered. So, together we walked to school, and I discovered my suspicions had been confirmed, ratchet went to this school. Well, me being me, I cornered the thief, shoving him back against the school wall.
"Why does Holden have it out for you?" I whispered sternly while Igster talked to some girls. Ratchet's eyes widened and he tried to run off but I grabbed his shirt collar and slammed him against the school wall. "Tell. me." I growled out.
"None of your business!" He spat, trying to push me away.
"It is if he wants me to kill you." I snarled and he instantly froze.
"He brought me along to steal from this jewelry store full of gold, only, when the cops showed up, I never helped him- he killed two. I thought he was in prison." Ratchet explained after a minute.
"Yeah, well, he's out. And he's gonna kill part of my family if I don't send you to hell in forty-eight hours." I snapped.
"Max! Listen, Girly, just take me to him, I'll sort this all out, okay?" Ratchet tried, I huffed and patted my pocket.
"I got a knife if you're playing me." I growled, before shoving him hard into the bricks and walking into school. Whistles erupted around me, but I didn't pay attention as I checked my schedule and locker number.
"Hey, Sweet Thang." Somebody with enough guts to approach me said in a sickly sweet tone.
"Hey... Ken doll." I muttered, taking in the perfect ocean blue eyes, straight, golden hair, and oh-so fine tan skin. The guy laughed.
"That was you?" He asked. I nodded and turned back to my locker, opening it up by banging my fist against it. Psh, locks are too mainstream.
"Well, my actual name's Dylan." Ken Doll said as he cautiously tugged my schedule out of my hand and scanned through it. "We have first, third, and sixth together. I can show you around those parts-"
"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll end up skipping anyways." I muttered. "Hey, know any peeps who would pay a girl if she could get them essays and crap?" I asked him casually. See, at my old school this is what I did, get some reports from Sammy Boy (Have I mentioned he's crazy intelligent? Yeah, he skipped quite a few grades.) and rake in the cash
"Try... The Cheerleaders- they may be peppy, but they don't know jack about anything. And they're all rich-they'll pay big. Oh and then just look at anybody in Ratchet's group. They may be smart, but they don't do homework."
"Thanks KD- Ken Doll." I added at his confused look. "Oh, they got Monster, Rock Star, Red Bull, anything like that here?" I asked. At another shake of the head my Black Market suddenly just grew bigger.
…
When I walked into second period, they didn't have a substitute that I could flick off and then they'd leave me the hell alone. Nope, Mr. What's-his-face got all up in my grill about my outfit.
"Listen, Teach, I now run this school, I don't have to bow down to your out-of-style skirts." I snapped, and his face twisted with anger. "Now don't get your panties in a twist, but I wouldn't wear that uniform if my life depended on it." I added.
"We'll see, Miss Dwyer-"
"It's Miss Ride to you!" I snarled, flipping my desk over.
"Principal's office now!" The teacher snapped.
"Finally!" I growled out and walked off. "I was getting sick of your scratchy voice and bad teaching." I muttered as I passed his desk, and slammed the door on my way out.
Chapter 3! Hope you like it
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PS! Check at my Christmas story! 24 Reasons I hate Christmas
