Discalimer super early 'cause I'm super excited about this chapter for some reason and I'll stop no-: I don't own. Why do you keep asking? It's quite annoying, actually. Would you like it if I asked you a hundred times if you owned something and you didn't? Didn't think so.
December third
December third . . . they announce the winners of the art competiton today. I'm doomed.
"Max, calm down," Iggy said.
"Shut your pie hole, Iggy," I said and continued to pace back and forth in the living room. Hey - how do you pace back and forth, when you should pace forth and back? You can't pace back if you didn't pace forth first and- I'm going to shut up now.
"Max," Fang said and grabbed my arm, forcing me to sit on the couch next to him. "Relax. Its going to be fine."
I gave him a weak grin and turned to Ella and Nudge, my grin turning into a glare. "I blame you."
Ella raised an eyebrow. "You blame us for what?"
"Making me a nervous wreck," I said, and started to stand up to pace again, when Fang pulled me down and wrapped his arms around me so I was completely trapped in one spot. It stinks.
To take out all the energy I got from the future announcements, I started to bounce my foot, making my whole leg shake.
"Max," Fang said and put a hand on my knee. "Please calm down."
"How can you tell me to calm down?" I said. "This is seriously a not-calm moment, Fang."
He sighed, and kissed me on the lips for a second. When he pulled back, I was seriously dissapointed.
"Calm now?" he asked.
"Uh-huh," I said. "Actually, no. Can I have some more medicine?" Wow. I hadn't realized how lame that was until I actually said it.
He grinned. "Sure." He was just about to kiss me when the. Phone. Freaking. Rang.
I mean, seriously? Can you have any worse timing?
"Um, Max?" Ella said. "Aren't ya gonna get that?"
"Why?" I asked, still staring into Fang's eyes.
"Uh, because it could be about the art competition?"
Screw Fang's eyes. I jumped off of the loveseat and literally flew at the phone - which was behind the couch, resting on a table - grabbed it, and fell on the floor. "Ow," I moaned, but it didn't stop me from pressing the green button on the house phone. "Hello?"
"Yes, this is S&M company, and we-" I hung up and stared at the ceiling for about five minutes before anyone bothered me.
"So?" Iggy asked. "Whats going on?"
"It was a telemarketor person," I said. "They're not going to call."
"Stop being such a pesimist," Ella said.
I shrugged. "It's what I do . . . they aren't calling."
"Whatever you want to believe, Max," Ella said.
I sighed, and the phone rang again. I threw it over the couch, and heard the soft thump meaning it hit the coushin. "You get it. I don't think I can stand more rejection."
I could feel it in my soul when Nudge rolled her eyes and said into the phone, "Hello? . . . No . . . REALLY? . . . Oh my gawd!"
I thought she was talking to a telemaketor. She actually talked to one of those people for five hours. It was hilarious. Especially because it was on speaker phone. And Nudge managed to get his credit card number.
"Max, c'mere," she said and looked over the couch.
"Why should I?" I asked.
She hung the phone over the edge as bait. "It's the art people. They said they wanted to talk to you."
She had me at it's the art people. I practically levitated off the floor and snatched the phone from her hand. "Hello?"
"Um, yes, hello. Is this Miss Maximum Ride?" a male voice said from inside the phone.
"It's just Max, but yes," I said. Can they please get to the point?
"I wanted to inform you that you placed in the art competiton."
I literally froze. Didn't say a word. Didn't move. Three mini sentences were going on in my head: NO. FREAKING. WAY.
"Max? Are you still there? Hello?" the voice on the other end of the phone said.
I broke out of my trance and answered , "Yeah, I'm still here, bu-bye."
"But, Miss Ride-" I hung up.
"So?" Fang asked and I grinned.
"I placed ." So what if it's second or third or first? I didn't even expect to place. You take what you can get, right? Well, I'm glad I even got a place in the competition.
December tenth
Since I placed in the art contest, I got to go to the premiere at the museum. I was dressed casualy, jeans and a t-shirt that said, 'Bacon makes everything better.' So true, so true.
Anyways. We were inside the art museum in Phoenix (It took us a long time to get here. Me in a tiny car with Gazzy and not being able to move. Yeah. It sucked.), and Fang and I were waiting behind the mini stage they had set up to announce the winners. I was excited as I could be.
And I was super, super, super nervous. I couldn't stop bouncing up and down. See? Whoever made that knows how it's done. You can't go down before you go up, like you can't go back before you go forth. It's like people don't think things through before they do them. Geez.
"Max," Fang said, put his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to stop bouncing up then down. (Get it right, back and forth.) "Calm. Down."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm just really, really nervous."
"About what?" he asked.
"Stage fright," I mumbled.
"What was that?" he asked, chuckling.
"I've got stage fright, alright?" I said.
He raised an eyebrow. "You? Stage fright? Are you sure?"
I playfully punched his arm. "Yeah, stupid. I'm not perfect."
"To me you are," he said.
"Aw, cheesy pick up lines. It's seriously gross."
No, I didn't say that. Who was it? you ask. IT WAS JUSTIN BIEBER THE ALIEN WITH HYPNOTIS POWERS THAT MAKE GIRLS AROUND THE WORLD LOVE HIM. HE'S COME TO KILL US ALL. RUN FOR YOUR LIFE OR CHOP OFF THAT DOUCHE'S HEAD WITH LESBIAN HAIR OFF. IT'LL SAVE THE WORLD.
No, but really, it was Omega. Ugh. I just hope he didn't place first. Is that too much to ask?
We didn't say anything, didn't greet each other. Nothing. Sat in awkward silence for about fifteen minutes.
A girl with jet black hair and bright green eyes walked behind the stage. She had a tight fitted t-shirt that said 'Dear math, I'm not a therapist. Solve your own problems' and black skinny jeans. A diamond stud in her right nostril. And she looked like she didn't want to be here. AT. ALL.
I walked up to her, where she leaned against a wall, mouthing the words to the song she was listening to on her iPod.
I did the head nod. She returned it. Fang gave her a head nod, she returned it. See how awesome we are?
She took her earbuds out and said, "I'm Nyloc."
"Max," I said.
"Fang," he said.
"Who's the douche bag?" Nyloc asked, giving a nod in Omega's direction.
I rolled my eyes. "Omega."
She snickered. "Seriously?"
"Yep. One-hundred percent."
"But I guess I don't have room to talk . . ." She shrugged.
"Watcha paint?" I asked her.
"A tree. A really, really, big tree."
"Cool."
"What did you paint?" she asked.
I smirked. "This dude." I jerked my thumb at Fang.
She raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I get it."
I did a face palm. "Not like that."
"Didn't make it seem like that."
Fang coughed, trying to cover the small blush on his face. "I'm right here."
"I know that," we both answered.
He raised an eyebrow. "Not weird at all."
I rolled me eyes. "Nope, not a bit."
We sat in silence. It was a comfortable silence. And some guy with a weird hair came out and said, "We're going to announce the winners in about five minutes to whomever it may concern."
We mummered yeahs. I was still super nervous about what I placed. And, ya know, the whole stage fright thing. But, other than that, I was completely calm. Meaning: I wasn't calm at. All.
"OK, I guess it's about time we told you who got what place!" wierd hair dude, who will now be referred to as W.H.D, said.
Claps came from the other side of the stage thing, and I heard Iggy shout, "GO MAX!" And could feel it in my bones when Nudge and Ella slapped the back of his head. I laughed, Fang grinned, Nyloc chuckled, and Omega remained the douche bag that he is. He did nothing. Douche. No . . . he doesn't even deserve that title. He should be THE MEGA DOUCHEY PRINCE OF DOUCHVILLE, THE DOUCHIEST OF THEM ALL. But, since that is way too long, we'll just call him Your Douchiness. It's a fitting title, don't ya think?
And I'm still nervous with the whole stage fright thing, even after enjoying a good head laugh.
"In first place, we have . . ." the faint sound of tearing paper. "Nyloc Mitchenson!"
"WHAT? !" Omega screamed, outraged.
"You heard him, Your Douchiness," I told him. I turned to Nyloc, "Congrats."
She smiled at me. "Thanks." She walked up the stairs to the stage thing and disapeared behing the thin curtain that separated us from the stage.
"In second place . . ." More ripping paper. "Miss Maximum Ride!"
HOLY. FLYING. SHIT. NO. FREAKING. WAY. ON. PLUTO. IT. IS. A PLANET. FACE. THE. FACTS. SCIENTISTS.
Ahem. Yeah, hi, Max's brain here. I was blown away into the desert by her winning second place in the art competiton. I wasn't expecting it either. But now I have to find her, so gimme a second . . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
I'm ba-ack! Miss me? Aw, ya know you did! C'mon. Tell the truth . . . FINALLY!
Anyways. "Max? Did you hear that? You got second place," Fang said.
I smiled and said, "Yeah. I heard." I climbed up the steps and pulled back the thin curtain to reveal . . . not that many people. My family, my friends, a few people who looked like they had sticks up their butts - probably His Duchiness's family -, a group of people with different eyes and different hair, and a few others.
I walked out on stage and stood next to Nyloc, who was looking at three people in particular. One was a girl who had hair the color of a fox's, and eyes to match. Another was a boy with black hair and bright blue eyes. The last was a girl with so-blonde-almost-white hair and jade-green eyes. (I'm super observant . . . sometimes.)
"Your family?" I whispered.
She grinned. "You could say that." (A/N: Nyloc and the rest of them weren't supposed to be in a MR fic, but I probably won't be posting that one. So you're just gonna have to deal with the overload of new characters that will probably only appear this once, m'kay?)
They invited Omega onto the stage as third place - ha ha - and we stood beside our paintings for the unveiling. Shit. I believe this is why I was so, so, so nervous. Showing my family the painting.
Help me.
"Now, the winners will pull the veil off of their art pieces, and we'll move to the next round," W.H.D said.
Ya see, there are a few things that go on in this thing: One, the painting section, where I am now, drawing, and sculpting. Each has age catagories, and I'm in the fourteen through eighteen section.
"And . . . reveal your paintings!" W.H.D announced. Geez. They make such a big deal out of it.
SHIT! I pulled the little canvas thing they had displayed over the painting and looked at my family. Iggy's jaw practically hit the floor, Ella and Nudge gave me a look that said 'You will tell us later', and Anne's eyes had grown the size of dinner plates. Gazzy seemed to be staring at Nyloc with goo-goo eyes, and Angel was . . . looking at the boy in front of her?
Heh-heh. This is gonna be an . . . awkward car ride home.
Mwahahahahahaha!
Omega: Hey, you made my last name Williams. Does that mean I'm related to Haley Wiliams?
Me: Yeah, you're her thirty-first cousin twice removed.
His Douchiness: *glares*
Me: What? You asked.
Skid: You did.
JP: This is giving me a headache.
Me: My brain hurts.
Tank: Another headache?
Me: No, no. This is a brainache.
JP: What's the difference?
Me: A brainache is when you feel like your brain is about to explode with all brainy pieces all over the walls.
Skid: Stupid math . . .
- Sanity