MPOV

Pulling my shirt on back over my head, I heard a shrill, high-pitched scream.

"FANGY-POO!" Oh no. Please no. I know that voice. My day was already bad enough. And just as I thought it couldn't get any worse.

Guess just who was at the door?

There's only one voice like that. And their name was Lissa Alvin. I should've guessed she'd be here.

"OH-MY-SHIZNIT-GOSH!" Lissa's preppy voice echoed to my room. "I am like, totally into you! You're so totally hot! And guess what? We're neighbors!" She squealed some more. "Oh and Fangy-dear…"

I heard a soft thud.

Inside, I'm mentally yelling, C'mon Fang! Beat her up or something! But then the talking/screeching pig with half it's lungs ripped out/whatever you'd like to call it ceases. I smell something fishy around here...

To be honest, I was a bit hesitant to go out into the living room and see what was going on. If I were a cat, however, I'd be dead... Centuries ago. Opening the door without as much as a squeak, I tiptoed into the hallway, and then into the living room where I stopped dead in my tracks. My mouth hung open a little.

There Lissa was, her flaming, fiery hair trailing behind her in a wild frenzy, in comparison to her usual pin-straight locks. She was actually dressed a little more appropriately than normal, but her "personality" was still apparent, for she had pressed Fang up against the wall, their lips locked tightly.

A fire lit behind my eyes, and all I could see was red. I charged past them, house key in hand, as I purposely shoved past them, and out into the hall. "Max! Wait!" I was really, really angry. And most of you girls would be thinking. Ooooh! Max is jealous! And hop about squealing like Lissa or Brigid. Nope. I was angry because I was stuck with Fang in the same apartment for two years. Had to share the same bed with that… that… thing. I do not want to be stuck with a flirt.

I spun around, face red from fury. "What, Fang?" I spat. He had detached himself from Lissa's pink lips, as he headed towards me. I backed up, glaring him down, daring him to come closer.

And he did. "Max..." he said, looking directly into my eyes. If he tried to kiss me, he would be dead before Lissa could cry.

"What do you want?! I hope you're not here to apologize –"

"Max."

"– because I don't want your pity. I knew you were a player, despite you, and your... Ugh!" I tilted my head up to look him straight on. "I'm not going to ask to change spouses, and I'll stick with you for our adopted children, but just... Just don't talk to me. Ever. Or you may not wake up alive the next day." And with that, I spun around and headed for the elevator.

Not before seeing the shock embedded in Lissa's green eyes, in contrast to her smug smirk.

What was that about? I wondered, as I began my trip in the elevator, down to the fancy main level where we checked in. My eyes are now scarred for life... As I made it to the second floor, the elevator 'dinged' and the doors opened.

A girl with wild brown hair streaky with golden highlights stepped on, one hand carrying a phone, the other, a purse. She looked up from her phone, and saw me, as her mouth slowly morphed into a wide grin, dark amber eyes glittering.

"Hi! Who are you? I'm Monique Williams, but that name is so drab, I want to change it to something like Tiffany-Krystal! But people call me Nudge because I never shut-up, and so they'd have to nudge me to get me quiet. Nudge is an okay name, but it's way better than Monique. I live on the second floor – haha, obviously, this is the floor I got on the elevator to! My spouse is this really cute, but pretty odd guy, named James Walker. No offense, but that is one of the whitest names you can get! But he likes to be called Iggy, which is so much better. Who's your sp –" Man, that girl can talk!

"Wait, Iggy?" I asked. Her head bobbed up and down, her streaky corkscrew ringlets bouncing around her head. "You did say Iggy, right?"

"Uh-huh!" She said, head tilting to the side a bit.

"Oh. Okay. Uh, I'm Max. Maximum Ride. And my spouse," I said, lacing venom through the word 'spouse', "Is Fang Walker, Iggy's brother."

"YOUR SPOUSE IS FANG?" she shrieked. Oh great, another Fang-girl. (See what I did there? Instead of a fan-girl, it's a Fang-girl. Get it? Eh? Eh? Whatever.)

"Yeah," I grumbled, folding my arms. "And he insulted me already by comparing me to his brother."

Nudge's mouth gaped open. "He didn't!"

I had not been expecting that reaction. I thought she'd get angry at me for hating on him. I nodded, feigning sadness. I was actually quite amused by the girl. And I was glad I finally had someone to rant about the Walker brothers to!

"That's horrible! He's so... dramatic, and disgusting, and when I first got there, he was already in the kitchen stuffing himself like a pig! Although it did smell good..." Nudge added later. I burst out laughing; Nudge is such an open book, not really afraid to say anything. By the time she finished rambling, the elevator had already come to a stop. I stepped out first, basking in the warm sun.

"So where are you going?" Nudge wondered, glancing at her phone once again.

"... I'm not sure, really," I replied, after a moment's hesitation, wondering where I was really going. Just to get away for a bit I guess. Her eyes brightened, almost glowing, as if she were possessed.

"Well then, we can walk around together!" she squealed, clapping her hands together in excitement. "I needed a friend to hang out with!"

I nodded uneasily. "And... Where are we walking around?" Nudge reached into her purse, grabbing those huge sunglasses girls usually wear, and slipping them on.

"San Fran, baby."

FPOV

I. Am. A. Freaking. Idiot.

She thinks I'm a player. Again.

Stupid Stephanie for spreading that frickin' rumor. All I'm thankful for, is that Max isn't ditching me. And I'm especially thankful of the fact that she's my wife, rather than... Lissa.

That girl is so annoying. After forcing herself on me, she pisses Max off, and begins to think that we're "miraculously" together. Doesn't she have a husband? Not that she'd stay faithful to him either way.

I headed back into the apartment, and lay on the couch once more, repetitively banging my head on a couch cushion. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

You find one girl, who may actually like you, or at least doesn't immediately begin flirting with you, and want to be friends with you, and you somehow manage to screw it all up in less than twenty-four hours. Scratch that. One hour. Just my luck.

Most of the girls I met either want to get me in bed – which thankfully hasn't happened before; that'd be rape – and/or pretend to be my friend to get closer and move up a level. Once or twice, they've been my friend so they could get to Iggy.

I'm just sick and tired of girls like that. Honestly, I was looking forward to GTS. I could start new, and maybe find a true, genuine, friendly girl. And have the sluts attack Iggy. Like zombies. That'd be amusing. Then I'd give him a chainsaw to cuts those zombie cheersluts in half. New video game: Dead Cheersluts Rising. By Capcom.

But of course, I get the world's biggest... There's just no words to describe her (and that was a negative comment)... as my neighbor.

Whoop-di-doo.