JP: I'm finally finished with Angel! Yes!
Me: *reads the ending out loud* 'And they all died. The End.' *throws book across the room* What the Hell kinda ending is that!
JP: Um . . . the rushed kind? You told me, and I quote, 'Hurry the Hell up so I can read the damned book!' And I did.
Me: As you're publisher, it's my job to put you on a deadline.
JP: But you're not my publisher . . .
Me: I am now. So get to work! Moving on. Tank is on a date with my newest OC, Skid! Yep, her name's Skid. She's only a head OC for now, but I'm thinking about putting her on paper soon. Maybe. Moving on. Again. Does anyone have any ideas for a name for this story? Anyone?
Disclaimer a la Sanity: If I owned MR, I wouldn't be on fanfiction and I wouldn't have kidnapped JP. J, if you give me the rights to MR, I'll give your freedom.
JP: You're lying.
Me: How do you always know that?
JP: It's my mad skills.
Me: *faceplam* Your ego is as big as Jeb's . . . read other story if you don't get it.
Max POV
I stared at the floor length mirror in complete horror. This uniform was so revealing it made me want to gag. My school required me to wear a freaking mini skirt. My school. What has education gone to these days? I don't know.
Anyway, my uniform consisted on this: A dark brown, white, and pink plaid miniskirt that didn't even reach mid thigh, and some type of white dress shirt and tie. Mine was red. They let you accessorize as you like. Thank God, because this outfit needed the New Max touch. I attached some black suspenders with a red line in the middle - and they went to mid thigh. On the right leg, I added a small silver chain and put on my mini Sharpies with little silver loops in them on it. I pulled on my combat boots, and laced them up.
I had a small silver loop in each of my second ear piercings, and black studs in the others. I had a black leather band around my wrist with little round, silver suds around it and black and red rubber band bracelets on the other. My red tie was loose around the neck, and the white dress shirt was rolled up to my elbows. And, of course, my locket that had a picture of baby Angel and me in it.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and walked into my personal bathroom. I looked in the mirror and smirked at my hair.
"Seriously, Max," I told myself. "You did a pretty good job on your hair only using two mirrors for help." And I was completely serious. It had been how I wanted it to be. My bleach blond hair was probably just a centimeter away from my earlobe, and completely spiked the way I wanted it. I opened my medicine cabinet and pulled out a little bottle of hair gel. It's not like I had ever used it. As the perfect daughter, I had grown my hair out until it was almost at my waist.
And I now realized how much I had hated that hair. How it always got in the way. I still had my Bangs of Doom, but that was easy to push aside or whatever. And I will not turn into Justin Bieber, the brain washer. Nor will I become a Belieber. It's, like, against my religion. Thou shalt not worship false Gods. Whatever happened to that? I like that rule . . .
Anyway, I put some of the hair gel on the tips of my fingers and ran them through my hair, leaving it spiked even more. I liked the results. And, unfortunately, so would a lot of guys. I can't believe they made me wear this . . . Oh, well. It would make breaking up with Dylan even sweeter. No, I didn't brake up with him when I saw him and Lissa making out. But I should have,
I sighed and grabbed my messenger bag, which was green and purple. Two colors that I actually could stand. My messenger bag was dark green, with dark purple writing that said 'Airborn.' (A/N: Expect a lot of that in this. Pretty much all of my styles are taken from Shojo Fashion or Snorg tees. I like manga, but can't draw worth a shit. And I don't own either of these. Sigh.)
I slid back my door and started down the black spiral stairs. Ugh. Do they realize how much trouble this skirt is gonna cause me? At least we get to wear the shoes we want. I guess I should be grateful for Jeb being rich. But, then again, he did put me on pills, so I have the right to be pissed.
I finished walking down the stairs, and was in the mini waiting room when I smelt it. Iggy's jelly. It's a mixture of blackberry and strawberry, and it's probably the best stuff in the world, and I need some now. I sprung into the kitchen and inhaled deeply.
Fang was sitting on the counter, and I must admit he looked pretty damn good in a grayish greenish, lighter green, and dark brown plaid pants that cut off just below the knee, white dress shirt rolled up above the elbows, a long sleeved green undershirt, and - get this - combat boots. Guys didn't have to wear ties, which I don't get.
Iggy was sitting at the table with his feet on it, wearing long pants - the same as Fang's - green sweater with the white dress shirt collar showing, and gray and black shoes. If he wasn't my brother, he'd probably be what other girls would call 'hot'. Especially his girl friend . . .
Gazzy was was still in middle school, and they didn't have the same privileges as the high schoolers. he had the same pants as Iggy, but shorter for his height, gray jacket type thing, white dress shirt, green tie, and black dress shoes.
Jeb was in work clothes. It's so boring I'm not even gonna go into detail. White lab coat, black tie, and black pants. See? Boring.
Fang was practically drooling over me, and I was too busy drooling over the toast with the jam on it to smack him. Iggy, Gazzy, and Jeb stared at me wide-eyed, mouths slack. Iggy even dropped his toast.
I rolled my eyes. "You'd swear you never saw a girl before. Iggy, close your mouth. I don't want a fly to get in there and lay eggs in your half chewed food." He closed his mouth. He always has been a smart boy.
I walked over to the table and picked up a few pieces of toast and put some bacon onto my plate. I sat down on the counter away from Fang and dug in with my fingers. I never saw what was wrong with eating with your fingers. We ate in silence until Gazzy let one of his 'gifts' loose.
"Ah, c'mon, man," Iggy said between coughs. "I'm eating here!"
Gazzy shrugged and bit into his last piece of toast. I burped and dumped my plate into the sink.
I went to my bathroom - again - and brushed my teeth. When I was back downstairs, Jeb gave us 'the talk.' No, not the sex talk. We had that years ago.
"Be good. Iggy, Gazzy, don't blow anything up. Fang, er, try not to kill anyone," he said.
Fang smirked, and said, "Yeah, sure."
I gasped. "It speaks!"
Jeb rolled his eyes. "Max, you have all of your classes with Fang." I scowled. "Wait here. I'll be right back."
Once Jeb was moving down the hall, I said, "Let's move." Sure, I wanted to see his reaction to the pill bottle, but I hadn't come up with anything to say.
"But didn't Jeb say to wait?" Gazzy asked.
"Yeah, so?" I asked, slinging my bag over my shoulder.
Iggy and Gazzy both gave me looks like I had grown wings. Yeah, right.
"What a great roll model you are," Fang said, rolling his eyes.
I grinned and made my way over to the door. "Yep. I'm the best."
I opened the door and walked across the porch and hopped down the stairs. Ugh. Stupid skirt. I pulled it down a little. That didn't help any because then my underwear showed. I sighed and pulled it up. Then more of my leg showed.
"AH! This is impossible!" I screamed out.
Iggy was chuckling, Gazzy was laughing, and Fang smirked. I slapped Iggy across the head, glared at Gazzy, and glared at Fang. Wow, it's been a long time since I glared.
"Max!" Jeb yelled from the house.
I ran over to my truck and got in the driver's side. "C'mon, get in the truck, dummy," I said to Iggy.
He did and Gazzy got in the back and Fang got the other window seat so Iggy was in the middle.
"Dummy?" Fang asked. "What? Are we in first grade again?"
"Yep," I replied. "You're dummy and I have cooties, so stay away."
Iggy laughed, and so did Gazzy. Fang glared at me, and I smiled. We stuck around the house long enough to see Jeb open the door.
"I am never riding with you ever again!" Gazzy said, almost falling out of the truck.
"Oh, c'mon!" I said. "It wasn't that bad!"
Gazzy stared at me in horror. "Wasn't that bad! Are you nuts? Wait, don't answer that. We're the first people here!"
"No," Ella's voice said from behind me. "We are!"
I turned around and saw Ella. She was wearing the same skirt and dress shirt as me, but her shirt was down to her wrists. She had a gray and pink vest on, black flats, and white knee highs. Her dark brown, wavy hair was just past her shoulders and perfect, as always.
She hugged me, and I hugged her back. When she pulled away, she said, "Ah! Look at your hair! It's so cool!"
"I know!" Nudge said, magically appearing beside Ella. "OMG, look at your outfit. It's awesome! Did you really do that yourself? It's like punk mixed with Barbie! AH, Max I'm so happy to see you again!" She tackled me into a hug, ending her own rant.
"Hey, ha ha, Nudge. Good to, ha, see you too," I said between laughs. When she pulled back I saw what she was wearing. Same skirt and shirt, pink sweater vest, light pink thigh high socks, and dark brown flats. Her unruly curly hair was pulled back into a thick, high ponytail with a few ringlet locks framing her mocha face and caramel eyes.
She turned all of her attention to her boyfriend. "Hey, Iggy!"
"Hey, baby," he said and wrapped his arms around her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they kissed. It turned into a full make out session. Gross.
"Ugh," I said. "Get a room."
"I'd say the same for you and Dylan," Iggy said, pulling away from Nudge reluctantly.
I scoffed. "Well you won't have to worry about that anymore. I'm breaking up with him today."
Ella gasped. "Why? You two were perfect together!"
"He was cheating on me," I said.
"Oh."
An uncomfortable silence followed until Fang coughed.
"Oh, yeah," I said. "Guys, this is Fang."
Ella was first. "Hi! I'm Ella Martinez, and Max's friend!" She stuck her hand out, and Fang raised an eyebrow. She shrugged and came back to my side.
"Hi! I'm Nudge Martinez! I was adopted and now I'm Ella's sister! But you probably already knew that since I just said my name was Nudge Martinez. Oh, what kinda name is Fang? Is that a nickname or is it your real name? It's kinda like Max's real name is Maximum but everyone just calls her Max bacause Maximum is a really long name. So? Is your name a nickname or what? Oh-" I slapped my hand over Nudge's mouth because she wouldn't stop till she fainted. It happened once. She was not a happy camper when she woke up in the hospital.
"No, my name isn't really Fang. It's Nick," he replied.
"C'mon, Nick," I said, using his real name. "Let's go get your schedule. Gazzy, don't blow anything up. Iggy, same goes for you."
"Yes, mother," Iggy replied, rolling his eyes.
Jolly St. Nicholas glared at me, but came along anyway. "Don't call me Nick."
"Oh, fine, Fang. But did you have to ruin the fun?" I asked him, walking into the school building.
He rolled his eyes and we went to the office.
"Hey, J.J," I said, putting my arms on the counter.
She looked up and her jaw dropped. "Max?"
"No, it's Maxine. Max's evil twin." I rolled my eyes. "Yes its me, stupid!"
She chuckled. "You cut your hair. It looks good. Like the new style, too."
Let me explain: J.J helps out around school. Her mom's obsessed with her going to college so she's out of her hair. J.J does this stuff for college credit. J.J and I are friendly, never really have been friends. More like acquaintances. But, still, we're nice to each other and we say high in the halls.
"Who's this?" J.J asked, eyes turning to Fang.
"Nick Harrison," Fang said. Harrison? Such a funny name . . . Oh, yeah, you're one to talk, Maximum Ride, inner Confucius Max scolded outer Crazy Max. Touche, Confucius Max.
"Max?" J.J said, waving her hand in front of my face. "Hello? Anybody home?"
I slapped her hand away. "Stop that. What?"
"Fang has his schedule and locker number. It's next to yours."
Oh, that's just great! Not. "Oh. Alright, Fang. Let's go." By now, the halls had filled up with all the kids. And Dylan was with his friends by his locker, probably.
We walked out of the office, and the whispers started."OMG, are they new?" "That girl looks familiar." "He is so hawt!" "Are they together?" "Are they related?" "I heard he got kicked out of his old school." "That girl looks scary." "Man, she's hot!" That one was from Dylan himself. He actually got the nerve to walk up to me. How did he not recognize me? Idiot.
"Hey baby," he said, putting an arm around my shoulder. "Wanna go out?"
I clenched my hands into fists, trying not to punch him. Instead, I ignored him. If he didn't remove his arm in three seconds, he probably won't be able to use it for the next two weeks. I mean, c'mon! Is he that stupid? I'm his girlfriend and he's asking me out!
"Ah, c'mon." His hand started to move down my back and I had enough. I grabbed it and twisted it around so it was pressed against his back. I pulled his hand, and he cried out in pain.
"Dylan," I said. "We're over." I pushed him forward and he landed on his arm, causing him to cry out in pain again.
"M-Max?" he stuttered, rolling onto his butt, cradling his arm.
I rolled my eyes. "No, it's Lissa."
His eyes widened. "M-Max, I-I-"
"Bye, Dylan." I walked past him with Fang following me.
On the other side of the school, we're at our lockers and guess who's waiting for me? No, not Santa Clause telling me I've been a bad girl. Lissa.
"Hey, Maxie!" she piped.
"What?" I spat.
She pouted. "I thought we'd walk to class together, like we always do."
Let me explain. Again: Lissa thinks we're friends. I use to think that too, but friends don't try to steal the others boyfriends and succeed at doing so. We walked to class together every day with Nudge and Ella.
"No," I hissed and she went into full bitch mode.
"Ya know, Max, I never realized how butch your name is until now," she said, smirking triumphantly like she had just won the grand prize of Dylan. Psh. She could have him.
The whole hall was silent. Popular Lissa battling scary Max. The ultimate smack down.
"Ya know, Lissa, I never realized how bitch your name is until now," I replied in the same prissy tone.
"F-k you, Max."
"Lissa!" I exclaimed. "I didn't know you felt that way! I thought you liked guys!"
She let out a frustrated scream, and her face was as red as her hair, which was pretty damn red. She stormed past me, and her hands found Fang's leg. She brushed her fingers over it, and continued her way down the hall.
"Whore!" I called after her.
"Man," Fang said. "I didn't know girls could be that mean. Aren't they supposed to be made of sugar, spice and everything nice?"
"Psh. Yeah, right."
Angel giggled as I tickled her tummy. We were on our way back from school. Well, I was. She was coming from pre-school.
"Max!" she giggled out. "Stop it!"
"Oh, alright," I said and grabbed her hand. We continued to walk down the side walk, my hand in hers. She was tall for five, and so was I too, so my arm was long. Not for five, but for thirteen.
Suddenly, a black van skidded to a stop right beside us and two men with guns and ski masks over their heads came out of the back.
One pointed a gun at me, and the other walked straight at Angel. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her away from me.
"ANGEL!" I yelled, trying to move forward, but the guy with the gun moved forward, too, until the gun was practically on my head.
"Move, and I kill you," he said. His voice was rough and deep.
"Max!" Angel yelled. She was screaming and kicking and crying with all her might.
"Do something!" the man who had Angel screamed.
"You heard him," my gun man hissed.
"Shh, shh, honey. It's ok, alright?"
She still didn't stop crying, but she did stop thrashing around. Where were all the people? Someone had to help!
"Max!"
"Angel, shh, shh. I love you, sweetie"
She sniffled. "I love you too, Max."
I woke up with a start. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I hugged my legs to my chest. I haven't had that dream in a while . . .
Something must be going on, mused Inner Confucius.
Shut up, Confucius. Right now isn't a good time.
I started to rock back and forth, making soothing noises to myself. I clutched the locket in my hand, and small, silent tears streamed down my face. I decided to do for a run. Yes, it's five-thirty in the morning. But running always seems to calm me down. I got out of my bed and put on a dark blue spaghetti strap shirt, and a pair of black shorts that went about mid thigh. I pulled on gray tennis shoes and was about to pull my hair back when I remembered there was no hair to pull back. God, I love this hair. I pulled my iPod from it's spot on my desk and attached it to the arms band thing.
I went downstairs and was eternally grateful that I had a set of stairs right by the door. I slowly opened it and slipped through, leaving the house like I was had never even woken up. I put on the iPod and Brick by Boring Brick by Paramore started to play. I jogged down the road, passing huge houses on my way. It's chilly in Arizona at night . . .
I was in town soon. My jog is people's run. I slowed down, little bit by bit, until I was walking again. I stopped at a lamp post that was lit up. The Missing sign was worn and tattered, but still there. Angel Ride. Last seen three years ago. She would now be eight years old. And a picture of Angel. Five year old Angel with platinum blond hair going down her back, with the biggest blue eyes you've ever seen. It be hard to do anything terrible to that little girl. Let's hope criminals know that.
Angel was the spitting image of me, besides our eyes. Her's were blue as the sea, mine were brown as unbarfed chocolate. I'm a lucky girl, aren't I? I chuckled at my own stupid joke.
I started to jog my way back to the house, and made it there without problems. I was being lazy and decided to take my shower down stairs.
Fang POV
Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding- I slammed my fist down onto the alarm clock. Six thirty already? I groaned and tried to get up off of the bed, but only managed to roll myself off. I groaned and pulled myself onto my elbows. I then managed to get on my feet and grabbed my stuff from the dresser. I walked out the room, my eyes barely open and to the bathroom.
Then my eyes practically bug out my skull. Max is standing in the bathroom, her shirt off, and her back to me.
"What?" she snapped.
I siad quickly and get out of there as fast as possible.
What I didn't get was what was tattooed on her back. A pair of wings, and inside those wings was a date: 7/13/7.
Oh, aren't I just the little devil?
JP: Uh-huh. *write, write, write*
Me: Is this ending gonna be any better than the other?
JP: Uh-huh. *write,write, write*
Me: Are you gonna give me the MR rights?
JP: Nuh-uh.
Me: Dammit!
- Sanity