Chapter 3 of I Hate Wonder Woman
(A:N: Fanks for the reviews! Sho happeee! o(^^)o anyways, this is a wee bit out of character, and you will find out about Ella later, Ya dig! K thx! It's 12:12 a.m. Now, so bye! Also,
NHaqueWaters: Okay, yay. That review made my week! Thanks! Sorry I didn't update. I didn't have my iPod or computer and a lot of stuff was going to crap, but I will do my best. But school starts te day after tomorrow!。・・(_)・・。Oh no! But here, have a chapter. This one can be yours!
Criticism53: Did I say fourteen? I meant 17. Also, I I have family in Alberta, and over there, you can have your learner permit at fourteen anyways. But Fangs 17, if I accidentally said 14… Break the not likelies! ;3 Ummm… but in Ontario, you can drive at all until your sixteen. The laws vary province to province.
Bye! And enjoy and review and suggest!)
FANG P.O.V.
Eventually, I did cave and change to a slightly different outfit. And I wasn't happy about it. Max should have changed. She was the girl anyways. Weren't girls supposed to care about that crap?
Now, I smugly watched as Max was subjected to more interrogation over breakfast. Even though she had already eaten, she was still packing down the three pancakes doused in syrup, Canadian Maple Syrup, the best, which Mom had given her. I gave her a short glare and considered asking her some questions just to make her uncomfortable, but that would involve actually showing interest in her, which I had none of. I still hated her. Hate, hate, hate.
Fifteen minutes in, Nudge asked a question. "So, like, is it just you and your dad or is there someone else?"
It was an innocent question, but Max paled visibly. She sat completely still for a moment, her eyes blank, but flashing as if a movie was playing in her before excusing herself to go to 'the loo'.
I had no idea what that was about. I wondered if it was the question of if she really had to use the washroom or ate too much.
"Fang, go see if she's alright. She looked more than a bit green." I began to protest, but mom sent me a look that shut me up, so I slunk up the stairs.
I stood in front of the bathroom door, which was slightly ajar, as if someone had rushed in. Retching noises came from the bathroom. Ewww. Max was kneeling over the toilet bowl, puking her guts out, awkwardly gripping the seat with one hand and holding her hair back with the other. She looked as if she was going to fall in, so breathing only through my mouth, as the air reeked of rancid sour cream and vinegar; I sat down on the ledge of the bathtub beside her.
"You okay?" I asked.
Between heaves, Max managed to choke out a response. "Yeah," Hurl. "I'm-" Hurl. "I'm fine." Hurl. Without thinking, I took her hair and held it away from her face for her, making sure to focus on her knees. I have a steel stomach- I can pig out, love gory books, the works- but I could not stand vomit, so I did not want to see hers. After sharing her breakfast with the toilet water one last time and a few dry heaves, I handed Max a few squares of folded up toilet paper, which she gratefully wiped her mouth with, flushing the full toilet. "Sorry about that."
"Whatever." I said, standing up and filling her a Dixie cup of mouthwash. "Here."
Max rinsed with the mouthwash and spat it out. "Man of many words…" She mused. "Hey Molar or Eye Tooth, or whatever, thanks."
"You looked like you were going to hit your head on the toilet, fall unconscious and suffocate in your sick."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She croaked venomously, her voice still raspy after her, er, vocal exercises. "I can see it in your eyes." She stomped off to her room.
I didn't want her to die, just disappear from where she wasn't wanted.
By the time I entered the kitchen again, it had been a good fifteen minutes and the family dispersed, so I joined my mom, helping her wash the dishes.
"So, is Max okay?" My mom asked, not looking up from the dish she was washing.
"After she puked her guts out." I told her, beginning to dry the dish she handed me.
"Poor thing." Mom clucked softly. "Any idea why?"
"She said she ate too much. Max woke earlier and ate then too. She was just too enticed by your delicious pancakes. They're a health hazard now." I joked.
Mom let out a laugh, but looked at me with complete seriousness. "You're keeping it no secret that you dislike Max, Fang. I'm disappointed with you. She's done nothing."
"Except for butting in where she doesn't belong." I muttered dourly, even though I knew that my mom probably could hear.
"Fang." My mom warned irately. "The poor thing. Her teacher informed me that she is incredibly lonely. She barely bothers to make friends anymore because she moves so often. She handles it well, but Max's teacher thinks that Max never feels like she is welcomed anywhere. Please, Fang make her feel welcomed here, or so help me, I will replace ninety percent of the black in your wardrobe with pink and orange."
That was a veritable threat, so I relented. "Fine. I'll call a truce."
"There is no truce to make. And you owe her an apology." Mom was speaking to me like a little kid. I threw down the dish towel, and went to my laptop where I updated my blog. Yeah, I had a blog, Fang's Blog. And my many readers would have a lot to read about (yeah, I'm kind of popular on my blog. I have a good portion of the school reading, plus a few thousand more followers.).
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January 4th, 2011
Subject: British Invasion
Hey,
It's me Fang (duh) again. If I haven't mentioned it, we have a frigging exchange student for nine whole months and I am not happy about it. And the exchange student sucks. Not to be mean, but she does. She's also really weird.
For starters, her name is Maximum, but she goes by Max. What kind of girl goes by the name of MAX? And her accent is really annoying. (No offense to any brits here.) It's not just British, but a mainly British mix of a crap load of accents, including French, Korean, Canadian and Indian, which are barely heard over the Brit-ness. Anyways, this chick, she thinks she is so amazing and so perfect. The one thing she is perfect at is being perfectly condescending. And a perfect you know what.
And she has weirdly colored hair. At first I thought it was just blue mixed in, be she also has a single highlight of every color in the rainbow underneath the back. And how do I know this? Much to my unhappiness, I had to hold back her lovely hair (note the sarcasm here.) while she oh-so-daintily vomited up her SECOND breakfast.
I bet she got knocked up at some goodbye party to some drunk dude and is getting morning sickness.
And she stole my bedroom, making me sleep in Iggy's room. Nonetheless, normally I wouldn't waste my time on this, but besides a possible terrorist moving in, nothing really has happened.
Well, I got to go listen to music.
Till later,
Fang
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Later that afternoon, Nudge suggested that we take Max to see the Glenbo, and epic museum. Max politely declined, saying maybe another day, and went back to her room, where I assumed she was sulking.
…
.:.:.:
Late that night, or early that morning, your choice, I got up once again to get myself a drink. I always had a difficult time falling asleep, and I didn't sleep deeply, so when I heard a ringing noise, I woke up immediately woke up. As soon as the slight grogginess wore off, I realized that someone must have picked up the phone. I figured it was my mom, because some nights she got emergency vet calls -a dog getting hit by a car and needing surgery, a cat giving birth to a breeched kitten, the works, so I was slightly surprised to hear hushed whispering coming from Max's room. I should have expected that. But, why would she be taking calls at this time of night, unless she had something to hide?
"Hey Ari..." Max whispered sadly. "You do know it's three thirty here, right? No, no it's okay. What's up? It's okay here. Everything's brill. They're all really nice except for this one emo kid. He's confusing. He seems to have this smoldering HATRED for me, but still... Never mind. What did you want to tell me, Ari? " Her door was slightly ajar, so I peeked in. Max was sitting cross legged, her profile against the window. There was something in her hands, a thin piece of paper that looked like a photo. A small bedside light was on, angled so that she would be less likely see me from my small sliver of a viewpoint. "What? He moved again? What the bloody hell is he doing in Denmark? What country will he be in by September, because I can't tell with that bloke!...Rubbish. Don't be daft. How did he mov-" Max seemed to get cut off, and for the nth time that day, her face paled. "What?" Max's voice was quieter and more mouse like. Her hand flew over her mouth and her face contorted into one of shock and grief.
I wondered what happened.
"Oh gosh... When did this happen? ...Yesterday? Why the heck didn't you tell me then?" Max almost shouted, a quiet shout, though. "...Sorry, Ari. have you told my father yet? You're having a hard time making contact? Okay, just give it a few days..." Max instructed dejectedly. "I know. Yeah. I'll be fine. Well, it's better for her. I should be glad. Okay. Bye. Maybe I'll get to see you again, cuz. If not, have a nice life."
Well, that was a blunt way of saying goodbye forever. I thought.
I watched as Max hung up the Skype she was using. She bit down on her lip and looked as if she was holding back tears as she muttered "Oh gosh, Ella" near silently. Max stood up and walked to her closet, pulling out a pair of sweats. I took this as a cue to leave, and I silently made my way down my stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky sixth step from the bottom.
I went into the kitchen and sat down at the island when I heard the tell-tale creak of the sixth step. Crap! I couldn't be caught! Max would definitely know that I know what she's up to... Or at least that she's up to something. With my epic ninjalicious skills, I dove into the sun/ mudroom. A split second later, Max entered the kitchen, decked out in blue sweats and a black hoodie, hood up. She bit her lip again in the adorable way I noticed that she did... (Oh quoi est mon probleme, as the French would say.). She slipped on her black Doc Martens and laced them up, then slipped out into the night.
What was wrong with her? Didn't she notice her measly sweats and hoodie and the thermometer by the door that proclaimed that it was -32 degrees Celsius out? Yes. It gets that cold out here in Canada. One time we were at a LATE FEBRUARY funeral in TORONTO (like, not even as north as it was here.) and the temperature was the same. They weren't even in a cold spell. Plus, besides her being user dresses, even though our neighbourhood was fairly safe, it was still quarter to four a.m. and she was 17 and pretty. That was just asking for a creeper! I gave the little terrorist ten minutes before I looked for her. In the meantime, I waited for her in plain sight at the island in the kitchen.
When Max did walk back in -precisely ten minutes and one second later, according to my watch, did that girl subconsciously live to bug me- I was met with a death glare. I mean, she didn't even have to notice me. It was really creepy. She just opened the door, pivoted and gave me the glare, which I grudgingly admit was the best I had ever seen, sadly. I winced and tried to look innocent, which was an oxymoron if I was involved, so I just cut to the chase.
"How was conspiring to blow up us and America?" I snarled accusingly.
Max's death glare, though I didn't think it possible, became the Super Death Glare (tm.). Shockingly, even though I thought otherwise, the SDG was made scarier by her ice encrusted eyelashes, her dangerously blue lips and the fact Max wasn't shivering or blinking. Just SDGing. (Super Death Glaring) Puppies probably would turn white and pee themselves if they managed to survive the withering glare.
"You. Are. The. Biggest. (This is censored for the safety of your mind and the mind of your future children; swears this bad can't be erased, they are imprinted in your genes forever.) I. Have. Ever. Met." Max growled rather frighteningly.
"Well, what were you doing out at this time. It's dangerous and I mean the weather too." I told her.
"Were you worried Molar? Or was it Eye Tooth?" Max glared at me, still not shivering.
"You are a spy." I accused.
"Which was why you spied on a private phone call." Max practically shot me, the emphasis on 'private' being the bullet.
"Then why else was it at this time of night? What could be so important?"
"My cousin was on England time and it was important because my sister, Ella, just died. You are so effing insensitive."
I automatically felt terrible. Maybe I was the hugest 'bleeping bleep the bleeping bleep-hole called Earth had ever bleeping made, by bloody bleeping hell' (I quote from earlier.) that she had ever met. There was water dripping off of her now, probably from the concentrated, pure, red-hot anger radiating from Max. And then came the slap.
Max reached out her arm and slapped me, hard across the face. Damn, was she strong. Not only did she catch me at the worst place to be slapped -palm getting cheek and lower eyes, finger tips getting temple-, but with her strength and momentum, I could practically feel a carbon copy of her hand, fingerprints and all, swelling onto my face. "I'm sorry." I told her sheepishly.
"Shove it." Max spat. "I'm almost glad she died. She was suffering so much for so long and was so damaged by what happened that she couldn't think for herself." Max said the last part almost imperceptibly quiet. It sounded mean, what she said, but it was said with sadness, and whoever Ella, was, she had probably had some pretty bad brain damage.
"Uh... look." I told Max, grabbing ice out of the freezer for my face. "I'm sorry for being a dick. Really. Truce?" I offered my hand. Max glared at my outstretched hand for a moment, the spat into hers, holing it out for me to shake. Feeling slightly grossed out, but still sorry, I went to spit on my hand, but Max stopped me.
"No. Punishment." She said simply. Then she made an un-ladylike face, grabbed my hand and hocked the most disgusting loogey into it. "Truce" Max agreed.
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"Oi!" Iggy exclaimed the next morning when he woke up. "I detect a distinct lack of hate rays. What could it be?"
"We made a truce last night." I explained, not bothering to ask how he knew.
"A truce after you realized the red-hot lust between the two-"
I shut Iggy up with a pillow expertly aimed at his face. "No. Shut up Iggy."
"Okay..." Iggy raised his hands in the universal surrender action. "You tell yourself that, but there is a smoldering passion." He teased.
It was Saturday, and mom decided that we would make a day trip up to Banff to show Max 'the beauty of snow in the Rockies' as I quote Angel. We were going to visit the hot springs, then just visit the national park and walk around the city. Mom had offered to take Max diving to the lake or whatever, but we all vehemently screamed 'No!' unanimously.
I was looking forward to it, even though it meant sitting in an enclosed space with Gazzy for ninety minutes. As Little Miss Occasional Vocabulary, Nudge would say, I was an ardent Banff lover. So everyone grabbed their swimsuits, towels and a change of clothes and we made our way to Banff.
Just over an hour and a half later, mom pulled the car into the hot springs parking lot. I gently woke up Max who had fallen asleep with Angel also sleeping on her lap. Before I did, I whipped out my phone and snapped a lovely 12 megapixel picture. Yeah, most people wanted an iPhone or whatever, but I had an iPod and I loved photography, so I settled for a Nokia N8, which had a great 12 mp camera. Max and Angel stirred, and immediately, Max smashed her face on the window.
"Cor, this is the most beautiful, breathtaking place I have ever seen!" Max declared animatedly.
"Oh, you should see it in the summer." I told her before catching myself. A truce, but not kindness. We all piled out of the car. Walking over to the building, Max stopped over at a railing.
"What's this?" She asked.
"Oh, that's where some snails live." Nudge explained. Max looked as if she thought there would be something more interesting there. "But I think they're really endangered. Like, they only live there and it's their whole ecosystem. I saw a documentary on Oasis HD or something on them. Apparently one piece of litter could easily kill them all. But you could have read it on the sign." Wow. For once Nudge's speeches held value.
Max grinned cheekily. "Oh. I guess I could have. But you're smart."
'Kiss up'. I thought, then stopped when I remembered the disgusting truce. Instinctively, even though I had washed my hands for twenty minutes using rubbing alcohol, soap and scalding hot water, I grabbed the hand sanitizer from my pocket.
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Iggy, Gazzy and I walked out o the change room in in my black and grey plaid swim shorts, scanning the crowded pool for the girls. I spotted them at a fairly uncrossed area and we made a beeline over to them. Nudge and Angel sat in their matching pink (shudder) one pieces. Mom sat off to the side, on one of the white plastic chairs. I guessed she wasn't going in the hot springs.
A moment later, Max sauntered over to us, wearing tiny black swim shorts and a white shirt that read 'FINA 2008' over a black bikini top. The shirt was pulled up at the left side. "So, is the water hot? Really hot?" Max asked, slightly apprehensive.
I was about to respond when a petit brunette with her hair in a ponytail, maybe our age or a year older, ran over to Max. "Max? Oh my gawd. I never thought I would see you again, except maybe in a few olympics or something!" The girl squealed, bouncing in the balls of her feet. Max gazed at her without a hint of recognition. "Wait, you are the great Maximum Ride, right? I mean, I saw the FINA shirt and thought..."
Max nodded slowly. "Yeah. I am. Where do I know you from?"
"Oh, I guess you wouldn't remember me. FINA World Junior Swimming Championships 2008? Monterrey, Mexico? I'm Abbey Clarkson. I got silver in the 800m freestyle and bronze in the 400m medley! You are, like, my idol. You did so amazingly!" Abbey gushed.
Finally, Max seem to recognize the girl. "Oh, hey! Thanks! How are you? Are you still swimming?"
"One sec. Bri, come here!" Abbey was still enthusiastically hopping as she waved over a girl who was identical to her, except that she had platinum blonde hair. "Bri, it's Max, from FINA. Max, this is my sister Brianna. Silver in the 200m butterfly. Well, I'm not swimming from a shoulder injury, but Bri still is. Okay, well our mom is calling us. Hope to see you at the Olympics one day!" With that the two of them ran off.
Max looked dazed. "Well, that was... Interesting..."
"You can say that again." I said. "What was that about?"
Max took off the tee shirt, then dipped her toe in the water, testing it. She slowly slid in, then turned to face me, resting her arms on the edge of the pool, chin on her arms. "I she's from a swim meet. I'm a pretty good swimmer. Ok, I guess. I don't do it that much anymore." Max said, not bothering to explain what the girl had meant by Max being her 'idol'.
Nudge and Iggy slid in to Max's left and looked at her quizzically, but Max was busy watching Gazzy and Angel splash about. I cleared my throat. "Well, were you any good?"
Max looked at me. "I won a few medals, I guess." She shrugged.
"Like, how many?" Iggy gestured for her to continue.
"You really want to know? Well, Gold medal in 800m freestyle and 400m medley, I only beat Abbey by two fractions of a second in the 400m. I, Uh, also got Gold in the 200m backstroke and silver in 1500m freestyle. Nothing really."
Gosh, more Wonder Woman. How much more could I take?
"Wow." Iggy said. "That's cool. Do you still swim?"
"Not competitively. I stopped shortly after. I do competitive track and field now and was the captain of my last school's Rugby team."
"Rugby..." Nudge mused, pausing. "That's kind of like football right?"
"No... American Football, maybe." Max responded. "Everywhere except USA and Canada call soccer 'Football'." Max explained.
"So, you were like the best kid in the world at that?" Nudge asked. "It would be really cool to be the best at something. Then you might be famous, and even if you weren't, you'd have fans and such. And you'd get the pleasure of being the best at something. Like, if someone got up in your face and challenged you-"
Max cut Nudge off. "No. I'm not even that great. Some people may be a million times better than me, they just didn't have any opportunity to try. Which is why we should support charities like Jumpstart and stuff. I did that at my Paris school, starting a drive to get underprivileged kids into extracurricular programs." I started to scowl at Max, but when I look led at her, her eyes looked happy and alive.
Great, Wonder Woman just became more frigging perfect. Groan.
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I wandered around the small mall with Iggy and, ugh, Wonder Woman, who was munching from a ginormous, rainbow bag of jelly beans. We had stopped off at a candy store all of us, but split up afterwards, leaving us to wander Banff until we were going to meet up at the burger place for dinner.
"Why do they have a Louis Vuitton here? Even with tourists, it doesn't make sense in such a small town." Max commented.
"I agree." Iggy said though a mouthful of candy, which we had gotten and the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory we had also stopped at. "I mean, it's not as if all the tourists are rich. Not even half of them, probably."
"You know, we passed a weed store." Max said nonchalantly.
"Hemp." I corrected. "It's hemp."
"Everyone knows that the only thing hemp can't do is get you high, and all stores like that sell weed in the back." She pointed out.
"Still." I said after a pause.
"Still what?" Iggy asked.
"Still nothing." I said. "I don't like staying in one place for to long. Let's get moving. Come on, Max." I turned around to get Max, but she wasn't there.
Crud.