A/N: I love you guys. I do. Seriously... Anyway, I won't be posting 10 until I'm finished editing 11, but that shouldn't take too long. Here's the next chappie and keep up those reviews because I absolutely love them!
Chapter Nine
Ella was a really big pain in my ass, but you already knew that. I have unfortunately had the torture to spend my seventeen and a half years of life with her. Well, everything was fine and dandy until I turned one and my mother announced that she was three months pregnant. That's when the little devil child would start ruining my life; the twins are like my little minions, so they're cool, bro. Let me explain what happened and why I was suddenly giving my younger sister the longest silent treatment ever. It was on the next Tuesday after detention, making it the third week in our move to Arizona.
***FLASHBACK***
I'm actually starting to think that Tuesday's are worse than Monday's. On Monday's, I have gym, but on Tuesday's I have my stupid Spanish class. James was already in his seat when I walked into the classroom and grudgingly took my seat beside him. This is one of my only three classes that gave us assigned seats that would last for the rest of the year. Ratchet was sitting behind me, but he was too busy texting someone under his desk to notice the look James was giving me. Monique was practically bouncing in her seat behind him; James had this smug look on his face.
"Well, hiya Maxie!" he cheered.
My eyes narrowed, "You're far too chipper for this early. What the hell is wrong with you?" I cut right to the chase because I just don't have time to dawdle.
"Max!" Monique exploded, "Okay, so I was talking to this really cute guy on the football team this morning, right? Right! Well, he was saying something about his parents going out of town for the ENTIRE weekend, so he's going to throw a party at his parent's skating and bowling place. I'm sure you see where this is going, but I'm going to keep talking anyway. James and I are going, and I invited Ella along, too. Wait; maybe it was Elle that I invited… oh, yeah! I totally forgot to tell Ella!" her eyes widened, "No worries, I'll text her right now because that's what best friends do, and –"
James poked her, "Hey, Monique! Shhhhh!" he pressed his finger against his lips.
"Sorry," she mumbled and blushed before ducking her head down to text Ella under her desk.
It took me a second to figure everything out. "NO!" I yelled, snatching Monique's phone away from her fingers before she could even start the text. If she texted Ella about the party then Ella would tell Mom that I was invited, too, and Mom would force me to go with Ella.
"Something wrong, Max?" Monique raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
"W-we can't go to the party!" I exclaimed quickly.
"And why is that, Maxie-Taxi?" James butted in.
"Because… be-because Ella… El-Ella is allergic to parties!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air. Monique and James stare at me in complete disbelief. So, it turns out that I'm not exactly the best liar in this whole universe. Not to mention I can't act to save my life; I'm not talented in any department except sarcasm, really. Such a shame, isn't it? That was sarcasm, by the way; see, sarcasm is, like, the best talent anyone could possibly have.
Ratchet chimed in slowly, "Ella is allergic to parties?"
"Yes…" I trailed off awkwardly.
Monique coughed through the tension, "Fine, I won't text her. But, can I have my cell phone back because I honestly can't live without it. Like, all my friends have a contact in it. Hey, Max, you should totally give me your number so we can text and gossip and stuff like that! Not to mention we could make some plans to get our hair done, and maybe our nails… Oh, you would look so good in purple nail-polish! Hey, how come I have never seen you with painted nails?! Like, you don't even paint them halfway or anything! Do you, like, not like the smell of nail-polish or anything?! Because-"
All throughout her little rant, James was nudging Monique. "Yo, Monique!" he exclaimed.
She snaps her mouth shut, "What?"
"I've been nudging you for the past two minutes! Stop it!"
Once again, a blush coats her cheeks, "Whoops. Sorry, you guys," she giggled.
"I got over it in third grade," James chuckles, poking the small dimple in her left cheek. "Is little Miss Nudged blushing?!" he exclaimed.
Monique blushed harder, swatting away his hand, "Cut it out."
"Little Miss Nudged? Really?" I stare at James.
He shrugs, "Last minute name. Get over it."
"OMG!" Monique suddenly exclaimed, "What if my name was Nudge? Then you could, like, yell "NUDGE" at me when I'm ranting instead of actually nudging me! That'd be so cool, and it sounds awesome unlike Monique, which sounds really weird in my mouth. James, don't make dirty jokes about that because it was in no way supposed to be dirty." Her gaze hardens on James, and Ratchet does the same while James feigns complete shock.
"I would never make a dirty joke!" he yelled indignantly.
"Yeah, right," Ratchet snorts.
Anyway, Monique had somehow managed to text Ella while I was busy dealing with James. When I got home that day, Ella went straight to the kitchen and started whispering harshly to Mom. Because I'm me, I ignored their strange behavior and went up to my bedroom. My iPod had been dead for the past couple days because Ella stole my charger to make sure I couldn't drown myself in my music. Now that I found the charger again, all I'm doing is drowning myself in my music. So, basically, her little plan completely backfired; I'm pretty sure my mom and Omega were in on the plan, too.
The next day after school, I went back to Omega's office. He was already there and waiting for me; I dropped down on the seat across from him with a heavy, drawn-out sigh. His eyes flitted upwards, "Good afternoon, Max, how are you doing this week?" he asked.
"The same," I shrugged uselessly.
"I should've known," he put aside the notebook he was previously writing in. "So, your mother called me last night to talk to me about something."
I cut him off, unable to resist, "No really? She wanted to talk to you about something? Because that totally isn't why people call you or anything!" I exclaimed sarcastically. He rubbed at his temples although the tiniest of smirks was curving up his mouth.
"Max, I'm trying to be serious here. Your mother said something about a friend's party-"
"Wait a second! The party isn't a friend's because I don't have any friends, genius."
"If you would stop interrupting me, this could be over within an hour or maybe less if you're lucky."
"You mean if we're lucky?" I butt in again.
"Just sit back and listen for a minute." I sat back and crossed my arms and my legs with my feet on the glass coffee table between our seats. "I think it would be best for you and your high school experience for you to go to this party-"
"You have got to be kidding me," I muttered quietly.
He continued like I hadn't said a word, "and to try and make some friends. Let's be honest here, Max, you're high-school experience has been pathetic for the first three years."
"Excuse you?"
"So, it's important that you make your last year the best yet! So, your mother has told me to make sure you get to that party. Monique will be making sure you go, and she'll be telling me if you don't go. Your mother will also hear if you went or not from me; not to mention your little sister, Ella, will be there and she can make sure you stay. If you refuse to go, your mother will be choosing a consequence for you," he settled a pair of glasses on his nose. "So, let's get started with the actual appointment for today because I'm really hoping you'll tell me something that I can help you with."
"Wait a second!" I hold up my hands, "Don't I get a say in this?! I mean, I'm obviously not the partying type and I absolutely hate interacting with people, so why the hell would I want to go to some party?"
He shrugs, "That's for your mother to decide, not me. So, how are you grades so far?"
"Stupid," I replied smartly. He wasn't going to get shit from me after dropping that bomb on me.
***END OF FLASHBACK***
That's basically how my pathetic Tuesday went, but that was three days ago. It is now Friday, and I'm waiting for Ella to finish getting ready so we can leave and get this over with. Turns out, Omega wasn't bluffing when he said I would get a punishment if I didn't go. Mom thought up the worst punishment and threatened me with it; she would take away my iPod for a month. I can barely go a week without my music before going on a rampage! How was she expecting me to go through a month just because I didn't want to go to some stupid high-school party?
"Ella, let's go!" I screamed upstairs.
"I don't know which dress to wear!" Ella whined back.
"We'll be bowling and skating, Ella! If you fall in the skating rink, your entire ass will be displayed to the horny boys of Stoneville High! Throw on some damn skinny jeans and get down here!" I yelled back.
"No way!" she sounded absolutely horrified, "It's, like, against the partying rules to wear jeans!"
"I'm wearing skinny jeans!"
"That's because you're Max!"
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"It means you're the biggest tomboy to walk this planet!"
"Why, thank you, sister dearest! I love you, too," I exclaimed sarcastically.
I could practically see her rolling her eyes at me, "I really wish you would've let me pick your outfit!"
"Too bad, so freaking sad! Now, get down here so we can leave and get this stupid thing over and done with!" I yelled while glancing down at my chosen clothes for the night. I wore some plain black skinny jeans, a red Jacky tank-top, a grey True Religion hoodie, and red Supra Skytop shoes. My only jewelry was a tiny DC Comics Pop Batman necklace. My blonde hair was down and cascading over my shoulders, but I had a grey cashmere slouch beanie because I don't just like leaving my hair down.
Ella huffed loudly, "Ten more minutes! Go bother the twins for a while!" she ordered.
I rolled my eyes, pushed off the staircase that I was leaning against, and went into the living room. The twins were on the floor; Angel had a Barbie doll in her hand. You're probably thinking: So, what? Little girls like Angel play with Barbie dolls all the time. However, her once too-pretty Barbie doll was now headless on the floor; while another Barbie had a blonde-hair-scarf wrapped around her neck. Angel was making choking sounds while holding the Barbie in the air by her "scarf", which I now realized was a noose. Violent could not even describe how bad the scene would look to any passing bystander.
"Wow, Angel," I pat the top of her head, "That sure is something. Where'd you see that?"
Angel grinned, "From all of those horror movies we watched together. Don't you remember that one where the really pretty girl got hung by her own hair?!" she giggled.
"Remind me not to let you watch scary movie marathons with me again, okay?"
She pouts, "But those movies are the best!"
"Stick to the Barbie movies, kid." I looked over at Gazzy, who was innocently playing with his Power Rangers and a small box thing. I was about to say something to him when I noticed him slowly taping the box to his blue Power Ranger.
He set it on the ground, picked up a toy car remote, and pressed the star button. In seconds, the Power Ranger was smoking in a hundred pieces on the carpet. Gazzy cheered, "Yes! That was awesome!" while starting to make another one of his small bombs. I looked towards the ceiling and thought: Why, oh why did I have to rub my awesomeness off on these children?
"That was great, Gaz!" Angel chirped innocently.
Gazzy high-fived his younger twin, "Thanks, Ange! I like your dead Barbies!"
This is why my mother refuses to have any other children that could be effected by me, everyone.
Ella finally came tromping downstairs in a mid-thigh jean skirt, "I'm ready!"
"It's a miracle!" I exclaim sarcastically, patting the twins on their heads before I reluctantly leave.
