Summary: Max Martinez thinks that she is starting another boring year at highschool. Then, she meets a new boy at school- a Junior like her. What happens when new neighbors move in next to them? Better than it sounds, I still suck at summaries. FAX, possible NIGGY. Lil' cliche, but I was rereading the books.
MPOV
"MAX! Wake up!" I groaned into my pillow. Ella continued shaking my body. Pretending to get out of bed, I lifted my legs from the covers. Ella backed up slightly, but not before I delivered a strong kick to her stomach, knocking her down. I buried my head into my pillow again.
"OMG, rude! You promised me that I could do your make-up and dress you up!" Ella grabbed my ankle and dragged me off the bed. I landed with a solid thunk, my hands pulling the covers with me.
"I changed my mind, Ella!"
"You can't do that! You pinkie-sweared!" Ella tried picking me up from my arms, but when I went limp I easily outweighed her by a good 10-20 pounds. Muscle.
"IGGY!" Ella screamed by my ear. I knew that Iggy, my 17 year old adopted brother, would be able to lift me. I heard the door opening. Another set of hands grabbed me underneath my armpits and pulled me up with ease.
"Traitor." I mumbled, and Iggy laughed. He brought me into the torture chamber- Ella's make-up room, where she already had a chair ready. Iggy held me down as Ella tied me up with scarves. Demonic sister.
"Later, Maxie, you're going to be happy when all the boys notice the hot Junior at school. No one will even be able to guess it was the lame Sophomore with a bad rep!" Iggy closed the door as I glared daggers at where he had been.
"Meanie! I only punched that idiot Dylan in the face five times!" I screamed back at him. Ella jumped.
"Five?"
"Yep. Three times during school, twice during the summer." I nodded like that was a totally normal thing to do. It was for me. Maybe not so much for Ella.
"Okay then… let's start with hair." I wrinkled my nose.
"Fine, but then for make-up no crazy things." She nodded and pulled out a straightener that was already heated. Figures that she was completely prepared.
After what felt like hours of torture and complaints, Ella spun the chair around so I could see myself in the mirror. My hair was straight, the dirty blonde locks falling just at my shoulders. (). Ella had put on minimal make-up like requested, only mascara, thin cat eyeliner, lip gloss, and blush. ( .fr/photos/5d246dce7e92b221d6efc71f/2:3/w_2560%2cc_limit/62405121_117822059228227_6018556402997632981_n(1).jpg, the one on the right) She had also plucked my eyebrows to what she called perfection. I preferred to call it her own way of punishing me for giving her a bruise on her stomach.
I didn't hate it as much as I thought I would, though, but the outfit she had picked for me held up to my standards. It was a white crop top with a baby-blue skirt. Both revealed way too much for my liking. I quickly changed it to a slightly-nicer-than-usual outfit, but one that was still more comfortable. It was a black shirt, slightly cropped, that said, "It's not me...it's you". I wore a simple white skort to match that fell to my knee. Looking in the mirror, I then put my favorite black hoodie, that also had one of my favorite quotes, "I don't care."
I then went down stairs, where Iggy was cooking breakfast. It smelled heavenly. He turned around and looked at me, shocked. In less than a second he replaced his expression with a smirk.
"Whoa. Where did Max go?" I rolled my eyes at him, but a smile tugged at the ends of my lips. My mom walked out, and she looked me up and down.
"You look good, honey." I nodded, my smile breaking into a grin. My mom continued, "By the way, the new neighbors are coming today. I invited them over for dinner."
I just nodded again. "You know, apparently they have a boy your age." My mom winked at me before leaving the room. Iggy smirked. As if sensing this, Mom peeked her head out again. "They also have a girl one year younger than you, Iggy."
I went up to him and elbowed him. "Is someone blushing?"
He sighed, "Well, Max, do you prefer walking to school or me driving you?"
I groaned, "You really have to rub in that I haven't gotten my driver's license yet, don't you?"
He stopped, rubbing his chin as if he was thinking. I lightly shoved him.
"Yes." He smirked, dishing out the scrambled eggs. I ate mine up, probably faster than necessary. I carefully avoided messing up the make-up, though, knowing that Ella would kill me if I did. I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, and checked how I looked. Miraculously, I still hadn't messed it up. I reapplied the lip gloss and grabbed my bag, briefly glancing at my schedule.
Iggy was already in the car, honking the horn for me to hurry. I slid into the front seat- I always preferred riding shotgun. Ella sat in the back.
Once we got to school, I stepped out of the car. Iggy went to go to his classes, yelling, "Catch you guys at lunch!" over his shoulder. Ella walked beside me. I glanced over the grounds, nothing had changed, really. We briefly exchanged schedules, but we only had lunch and study hall together. Ella separated to go to her homeroom, and I continued down the hall. I glanced at my black converse shoes, noticing how one was untied. I was just about the bend down when I ran into a black wall. Wait, huh? I glanced up and saw a black figure bending down to help me.
"Sorry." I apologized as he pulled me up. I heard him mutter, "Sorry" as well. Once I was up, I noticed how he still stood above me. I was 5'7, so normally I was only a couple inches shorter than a boy at most. But this guy was easily 6 feet tall, maybe 6'1. I looked up into his eyes, which were a deep black. They were covered by a fringe of black hair. I then realized how close we were, only a foot apart, and I stepped back. A slight blush worked its way to my cheeks. No hint of emotion showed on his olive skin.
"I got to go." I rushed out the sentence, stumbling more than usual. I was stopped by a gentle but firm hand grabbing my arm. I turned, raising an eyebrow.
"Where's Homeroom 6?" His voice was deep but smooth, and it seemed like he didn't talk much. I can respect that. I bit my lip, pulling a wrinkled piece of paper out of my bag. Sure enough, I was in Homeroom 6.
"I'm in Homeroom 6, too. You can just follow me." He nodded. I started walking at a brisk pace, not wanting to be late, but his long legs caught up to mine with ease. I tried to start up a conversation, turning my head to his. He looked at me, his face still emotionless.
"What's your name?" I paused, waiting for him to answer. After a few seconds I added, "Mine is Max. My real name is Maximum, but if you call me that I will kick you where the sun doesn't shine."
He turned the corner of his mouth slightly upward, achieving an effortless smirk. I turned my head forward, though, to stop my thoughts before they could wander.
"Fang." My head snapped back to look at him. Fang? What the hell does he mean by Fang? As if sensing my confusion, he nodded.
"Fang is my nickname." I raised a single eyebrow. A smile tugging at the ends of my lips.
"What kind of name is Fang?" I ignored how I thought it suited him, and how strangely, it worked. He shrugged.
"Maximum?" His onyx eyes looked at mine, and I felt a shiver go down my spine.
"Touché." I felt myself smile a little wider. I then realized that we were arriving at our homeroom. I nodded.
"This is it." Fang opened the door for me, and I walked in. He closed the door and followed me. I would have commented on how I could have opened the door myself, but I held it back. I walked to the desk in the very back. Fang sat in the one next to me. I leaned slightly over, whispering to him. Many other people were engaged in their own private conversations as well.
"Hey, Fang. Can we exchange schedules?" He nodded, passing over a neatly folded piece of paper. I gave him my crumpled one. As I glanced at his, I noticed how everything was the same. The only sign that he noticed this, too, was that his eyebrows were slightly raised.
"We match." His voice was almost emotionless, but I felt like I could detect a slight hint of happiness that we were in all of the same classes. I nodded. I held him out for him to take, and he gave me back mine. I tried not to think about how the piece of paper was now slightly warm from his hands. I smiled. It might not be too bad of a year.