Hi.

Sorry for the wait to update but I was sent to camp by my parents. And I would've been cool with it if they hand't sent me to camp for the mentally unstable.

But either way, the wait was unacceptable. So here's chapter four.

Highlight of the day: Forgetting to put the lid on the blender as I made a smoothie. Not a pretty sight.

"Max, come on," Megan is begging me. "We need you this year or else we're going to lose. What about your scholarship?"

"Meg, I said no. I'm done with that stuff," I answer as firmly as possible and just keep walking at my inhuman pace with her half-running to keep up. I would really appreciate it if she would just give up and go bother someone else.

But I have no such luck.

"But you were the best player on our team!" Megan practically yells at me now. She would get so dramatic over soccer. Other people in the hallways are staring now, waiting for some kind of showdown or whatever.

So I turn around and face her because she's really making a scene and I can't have gossip about that circling. People have a tendancy to make things seem worse than they actually are. "Megan, I just can't," think fast, think fast... "It's because of JJ okay? I just can't play because it's too painful. I'm sorry."

I'm starting to fake the tears when she puts a careful hand on my shoulder. Bingo. "Shit, I'm sorry Max, I understand. It's just that the girls miss having you as captain, you know?"

I must say, it's a moving performance. I deserve a fucking Oscar. I don't even need a script and my lines are flawless. "It's okay Meg, it's not your fault. And you guys will have a great team, you really don't need me. I just always wanted you guys to think that so you wouldn't kick me off."

I shoot her the perfect embarrassed smile and she returns a grin. "It's cool. I'll see you around sometime. I'll tell the other girls to lay off you, but some might ask again anyways, just as a warning."

I pause politely. "Thanks Meg. Really."

She waves it off. "Just because we aren't on a sports team together anymore doesn't mean that we still can't get along."

Page Break

"From what these records say you used to be really involved with the community. You played multiple sports teams, tutored publically for no charge, you coached childrens' soccer, you participated in several fundraisers for cancer and programs to help underprivelliged teens and kids in the city."

"That sort of stuff looks good on a college application," I say offhandedly, picking at my fingernails. I really need to cut them down. More like hack them down with a saw. I can't even remember the last time I cut them.

Dr. Wyatt sends me an amused smile. "So you wanted to go to college?"

A look of disbelief crosses my face because I can't believe she hadn't figured that out for herself because it's so fucking obvious. "Well duh."

"So what changed your mind?"

Without skipping a beat I reply, "I just was always working so hard and that's all I really ever did, and one day I decided that I didn't want to go off to college to spend even more time just slaving over school. It's really stressful and I just snapped eventually. I decided I didn't want to have to work that hard."

It's a half truth, so I don't have to feel bad about it. It's not like I'm really lying.

Dr. Wyatt nods. "What about sports?"

"I'd spent years and years training, so I eventually I wanted to quit. I mean, I had college scouts fighting over me and, well, I really did not want to spend four hours a day for the next four years doing track and soccer. I wanted to have friends and party and relax."

"What about your marks?"

Right. "They weren't as good as they used to be, but I didn't expect them to be absolutely fabulous, you know?"

Understatement. Major understatement.

PAGE BREAK

"Not your best work Max," Mr. Gartener places the test on my desk so I can see the big fat 58% scrawled in red sharpie at the top of the test. For some reason he felt the need to draw a big sad face in the center of the test to prove the shittiness of the mark because that's the kind of asshole Mr. Gartener is.

"How'd you do Max?" Jeff peers over my shoulder, but stops short when he catches sight on the huge frowny face. "Oh."

I sigh. I hadn't taken into account how much time I had to put into being popular and how much time I need to study if I want to pass my classes with decent marks. Being popular is more time consuming then I originally had thought when creating the plan. But we've all got crosses to bear. "It's okay Jeff. I just had a bad test. I'll make up for it with the next assignment."

His brow furrows. "Want me to tutor you or something? I could really teach you something about biology. Well, experimental biology."

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and it's enough to make me forget about the big fat 58% I'm going to have to explain to my mom. I roll my eyes at him. "Right. You just keep dreaming."

The bell sounds loudly, and students get up to leave the classroom. I pack all my stuff into my bag and swing it over my shoulder while Jeff waits patiently for me at my desk-side. What a saint.

"Max can I talk to you for a moment?" Mr. Gartener asks.

"Um, sure," I reply before mouthing a 'sorry' to Jeff.

He shakes his head. "I'll wait for you outside. Good luck."

He gives my arm a small squeeze, and despite the fact Jeff can be a total sexist pig, I kind of like having him as a friend sometimes. I turn and walk over to Mr. Gartener. "Is there a problem?"

Mr. Gartener slowly slides his glasses off and rubs his forehead. "Is everything at home okay lately? I mean, you were my best student last year and I was wondering if there was a family issue or something..."

He's so awkward that I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. "No, nothing is wrong at home."

He let's out a deep breath. "Okay. All the teacher's went to a workshop in the summer about spotting kids in the classroom who might be having a hard time at home, so I'm legally supposed to ask you that. Anyway, I was wondering why you didn't try out for any of the sports teams this year."

I shrug. "I just didn't want to. I have other things to do and with my marks slipping I think I need to focus a bit more on my schoolwork, don't you think? I really want to do well in this class."

It's a load of bullshit if there ever was one but Mr. Gartener accepts it anyways and dismisses me. I walk out of the classroom to where Jeff is waiting patiently outside the door.

"What was that about?" Jeff asks as soon as I pass him.

I shrug nonchalantly and keep walking. "Same old stuff about marks. All the teachers have just been riding me about it recently."

I internally smack myself a second after I say it and Jeff grins. "All the teachers are riding you? Wow Max, I knew you weren't a nun but that's pretty slutty."

I punch him lightly in the arm. "I hope I never get access to your mind because it's so ridiculously dirty that after three seconds, I'll be scarred forever."

"Probably," Jeff agrees, "Or you'll be incredibly turned on. Probably the latter."

"Oh, definitely," I laugh as we exit the school and head out back to the 'reading circle' the school built a few years back. It's basically a group of logs clustered under a few trees. Very cliche, but that tends to be where we end up eating anyway. I guess it could be worse: we could have our own designated cafeteria table that no one else could sit at and that would be the epitome of cliche.

When we get there, Lissa and Nick are already waiting. "What took you so long?"

"Teacher wanted to talk to me," I brush off smoothly. That's the thing about being popular: you aren't supposed to have anything wrong with you, despite the fact that it's absolutely impossible.

I learned that the hard way.

I take the seat between Nick and Jeff, a spot that almost all the girls in the school would kill for. I can actually understand why. Nick has the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing going for him. He has messy, a little-too-long hair and olive toned skin. Not to mention his great jaw line and muscles. But the killer? His eyes. As chessy as it is, they're like a dark tunnel to your soul; they go on forever. Nick and Jeff make the perfect team as best friends because for whatever girls aren't into Nick's quiet, mysterious persona, are into Jeff who is loud and open. Total opposites so that they cater to the majority of girls.

Despite how much I'm against sexist, cocky guys like that, I have to admit that they're pretty smart. Just saying.

"What did you do this time Max?" Nick whispers to me quietly.

"Just wrote a bad test," I try to answer as quietly as him but I don't think that's even humanly possible.

He nods, so slightly that I wouldn't even notice it if I hadn't been expecting it. Although he hardly talks, I find it pretty easy to read Nick, well at least now that I understand how to. He makes up with his lack of words with simple actions; tightening his jaw, the slight twitch of his eye, blinking at certain times. Maybe a picture is really worth more than a thousand words.

But that doesn't mean that I think he's an okay person. I still hate him.

"There's a party a Taylor Rossman's this Friday," Lissa tells us while picking at her tiny garden salad.

I reach into my bag and pull out an apple, shining it on my shirt for a few seconds before taking a bite. "Does it sound promising?"

"It sounds pretty good," Lissa nods, "I mean lots of drinks, pool, bonfire, hot tub, huge house. Overall it seems like it could be fun."

Jeff rolls his eyes. "That's what you said about the last party and that was a blow."

Lissa blushes. "I'm sorry about that one. It was supposed to be good but then someone forgot to buy drinks and then no one showed up. Technically, it's not my fault."

"Shut up guys," I defend Lissa like the great best friend I am. I turn towards her. "We'll go."

She smiles genuinely and mouths a quick 'thanks'. "So meet up and go?"

"Sure, sure," Jeff sighs in defeat. "Whatever floats your boat."

"Thanks Jeffy!" Lissa smiles mockingly and we all laugh at him. Well, Nick smirks, but the fact that he's showing emotion openly is good enough for everyone.

I tuck a stand of hair behind my ear. "So get ready at your house?"

"Mmhmm," Lissa nods. "Come over before and we can decide on what to wear and do our hair and stuff."

"Sounds great."

But it really doesn't sound great because I don't particularly like parties. I didn't like them before because of my claustrophobia and social awkwardness, but now I also don't like the people, lack of boyfriend to spend the entire night with, and the idea that I actually know everyone there. People who think I'm still pretty perfect.

I can't wait to see their faces when they figure out the truth. The idea leaves me digging my small ballet flats into the grass.

The lawn is perfectly manicured, every single blade. Sam must have mowed our lawn for us again, I think as I make my way up to my house. I'm tired and I deserve a nap. Being best friends with the most high maintenance human being in the world is a tiring job. I deserve a trophy after this.

I flop down on the couch and kick off my shoes. I pull the claw clip out of my hair and let the mass of tangles free. I attempt to run a hand through it, but half way through I accept that nothing can fix it at this point. I lean my head back and close my eyes for a few moments. I pretend to not hear my mom as she walks around the couch anxiously. I can hear her light, nervous footsteps as she paces back and forth a few times.

"Max?"

I open my eyes. If there's one person in the world that I have trouble saying no to, it's my mom, Valencia Martinez. I can officially say that she is the best mom in the world, hands down. No argument. She's a pretty Hispanic woman in her forties (I'm not going to say specifics for her sake). She has long, dark hair with big chocolate eyes and a warm smile. Ella's her spitting image while I resemble my dad much more.

My dad and my mom weren't married, nor were they together. They were both looking for a child but didn't have someone so they co-created me (insemination: look it up) and then shared me (it's not as inhumane as it sounds). My dad, Jeb Batchelder, is a scientist. He has blonde hair and blue eyes, and fair skin. I used to see him all the time but then he moved to Colorado and I decided to stay with my mom instead of go with him. He still calls me from time to time but it's not nearly the same as before.

My mom walks over and sits on the arm of the couch, smoothing out my messy hair. "The coaches called me. They want you to play again."

"I don't want to play anymore," I answer plainly.

Mom looks at me with concern. "Are you sure? If this a some phase you're going through I don't want it to affect the rest of your life. Colleges are still trying to see if you'll play for their athletic teams," she smiles sadly. "I just don't want you to regret this decision in a few years."

I almost cave. I mean, this is my mom; the one person in the world I can still depend on. I clench my fists because I need to toughen up and stick to the plan. I knew this wasn't going to be easy when I created the plan and I just have to do what I have to do. No loopholes.

"I'm sorry Mom," I whisper. "I just can't do it all anymore. I want to graduate and go to college without all the stress of a sports team."

"Then it's okay," she murmurs, just to prove how she's the best mom in the world. She's non-invasive and she lets me make my own decisions.

"By the way," she adds, standing up. "Total came in to the clinic today. Angel asked when you were going to play with her and Gazzy again. They miss you a lot."

This line contains the magical power to break a page. Nbd.

"Did you ever feel like your mom was closer or cared more about your sister?"

I lean back to lie down on the couch. "No. I think my sister thought I was the more loved one."

Dr. Wyatt furrows her brow. "Why would she think that?"

I stretch out my back before answering. "To be honest it was because I was better than her at everything. I'd always been smarter and more athletic. Adults in the community liked me better because of all the volunteer work I did. And then, as if to make things worse, I was better at being popular, something she had aspired for since junior high. Sometimes she hated me for it."

"Well what do you think about that?"

I shrug. "Ella's Ella. I don't understand her. We were never really that alike."

Dr. Wyatt starts to tap her pencil against her leg. "But why would she resent you for it?"

"Because everything she wanted really badly, I hardly had to even try to get it. That would have been very frustrating for her—well, it would be for anyone—but she always blamed me for it instead of actually being proactive about it. She'd complain 'How do you get to be team captain so easily?' even though it was because I was the best player. And then, after sulking about it she wouldn't go and train or anything like I used to work my ass off."

"You always did better than Ella?"

I nod. "Pretty much."

Dr. Wyatt stops tapping her pencil. "You know your mom gave me Ella's diary to look through. She wasn't one of those consistent writers but she had a couple entries every now and then."

"I didn't know Ella kept a diary," I manage to sound nonchalant but I'm having an interior panic attack. Who knows what secrets Ella wrote in there and oh god my mom probably read it.

Dr. Wyatt raises an eyebrow. "Really? Most of the entries are about you."

My heart stops for a second and I pray for the best option. "Hate stuff?"

Dr. Wyatt nods. "Mostly. Some stuff about soccer, report card marks, popularity; but there was one entry that really stuck out. I photocopied it for you."

She hands me a piece of paper from her folder. I take it with tentative hands as I read:

I hate Max. I hate her soooo much. Everyone thinks she's a fucking perfect little angel but she's the biggest fucking bitch in the whole entire fucking universe. Why does she have to take everything I want away from me? Other times it hurt but this time? I want to kill her. She knew how I felt and then she went ahead with him anyways and it hurts. What a fucking skank she is she just had to go fuck him.

It's not enough for her to have everything in the entire fucking world but she also has to flaunt it in my face as if to say "haha you'll never have anything this good". And I would've been okay with the fact that she's a fucking whore if she had been able to keep it in her pants just this once. And worst of all, mom let's her get away with everything because "Max is in a sensitive time of her life and I need to respect that". She had a tough summer, she can deal with it. Mom always makes excuses for Max: she's under the stress of college application, she has sports to deal with, she's having problems dealing with her father and her emotions towards him, she's having friend problems. FUCK YOU MAX I SUFFER FROM MOST OF THAT SHIT TOO AND OTHER SHIT LIKE THE FACT THAT MY SISTER IS A FUCKING HYPOCRITE. Yeah. Max always told me not to screw around with guys, especially if they aren't my boyfriend, but she was juggling with fucking two different guys. FUCK HER.

I hate that bitch more than I've ever hated anyone before.

I cough awkwardly. "Well that was pleasant. I didn't know one could use the would 'fuck' so many times in one paragraph."

Dr. Wyatt smirks for a second before her professional face comes back. "Those were some pretty strong emotions. What did you do to make her so mad?"

I stare at the ceiling. "She was into a guy that I was... close with."

Page Break

I check my phone. 3:55.

I slouch down farther onto the bench. I'm sitting outside the school in that area where the kids who can't drive or don't own a car have to wait for their parent's to come pick them up. I'm the only person who's still waiting here though. I'm waiting for Jeff, who is currently writing a math test he missed while at a football game, and I'm patiently waiting for him finish. It's a nice day today; the sun is out, it's not too hot, and every once in a while a cool breeze runs through the parking lot. I close the book I'm reading and put it in my backpack. It's something dumb about a sparkling vampire that Nudge gave me to read, insisting that it is the "best book ever made". Clearly she lied. I pick at some small stain on my school uniform skirt before checking my phone again. 3:57.

I'm about to give up on waiting when Jeff makes his way out of the school doors. Finally.

"Hey Jeff," I corner him before he can leave. There's only a few cars left in the lot—probably staff—but I still spot Jeff's Benz amoung them. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Kind of already did that," he answers cheekily. I refrain from hitting him.

I look up at him. He's ridiculously tall, reaching 6' 3". "I have a propsition."

I swallow down hard. This is offcially the weakest moment in my academic life. Jeff sends me a questioning look. "What exactly are you proposing?"

I clear my throat. I can do this. "Well you know that I'm not doing too well in school recently, especially in Biology and Physics, so..."

"You want me to tutor you?" Jeff inquires. He's got that really innocent look to him that makes me almost back out of asking. Almost. But I have to do this.

I laugh nervously. "Um, not quite. I was thinking more along the lines of copying your stuff."

Jeff makes the most incredulous face. It makes me feel even more stupid than I already do. "The great Maximum Ride has to copy my work?"

I'm blushing like crazy because I'm so ashamed of myself for having to ask to copy. I've never copied anyone before in my life. Never. "Shut up Jeff. Are you going to let me or not?"

He strokes his pretend beard in thought. I want to hit him. "Well you see, I don't just give out my notes for people to just copy like that. You intend on paying me?"

I freeze. I can't afford to pay Jeff for his homework. I don't have nearly enough money and I'm not going to ask my mom for money so I can cheat. This isn't going to work, I'm screwed...

Then a brilliant idea comes to me. It's awful, but once I've thought it up I can't unthink it. And good ideas like that can't just go to waste, can they? It would hit two objects on the plan at the same time. Like that saying, kill two birds with one stone (what kind of person would want to kill birds with rocks though?).

"What if I paid you with favours?" I ask vaguely.

"What does that mean?" Jeff asks innocently.

This is the skankiest thing I've ever done. "I do something for you and you let me copy your homework."

He's still standing there with a ridiculously confused expression on his face so I just go ahead and kiss him, tongue and everything. He's so shocked at first that he freezes up before kissing me back. I'm standing right on my tiptoes just to be able to reach him and I hook my arms around his neck while he grabs hold of my waist and pulls me closer. He leans down farther and slants his head so we can kiss better. I count a solid amount of time (one minute, thirty seconds) before I break from him, but stay close enough for him to hear me whisper, "Something like that."

His breathing is more ragged than mine and his eyes are kind of glazed over. He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a binder and pulls out a sheet of lined paper, handing it over to me. "Give it back by tomorrow."

He starts to walk away but I grab onto his arm. "Let's keep this our little secret. Don't tell anyone, not even Nick or Lissa. Please?"

He nods, but he still looks kind of dazed. "Sure thing."

"And Jeff?" I add. "Thanks."

He runs a pale hand through his blond hair. He looks hot, but at the same time kind of cute. Maybe I can understand why Ella thinks he's such hot shit. He grins at me. "Thank you Max."

He walks to his car slowly, and I turn away to walk home. I know I'm doing this because I need to, and I know that Jeff's absolutely fine with the situation, but I just can't stop the heavy feeling of guilt developing in my gut.

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