You should read this.
And you might be like, dude, why're you updating at 11 on a school night when you have to get up for band rehearsal at 5:30 tomorrow? And my response is, I was hoping you'd tell me.
Anyway, this chapter is a smidgen more... supernatural than the rest of the story. But this little red herring will be over in a couple chapters. I was just a little bored writing it the way it is, so I just spiced it up a tiny bit. I'll return the plot to normal soon, unless you like the way it is now. Then I'll keep it. But I don't like it all that much, so you might not either.
Disclaimer: I'd never, in a million thousand years, be able to come up with the idea of mutant flying bird kids. So, I don't own Maximum Ride.
Fang POV
I was nearly thrown backwards as two guys who'd been walking next to each other smacked into me by accident with their shoulders. They were all sorry, man and didn't see you there, but I just nodded, the universal sign for 'it's all good' and walked off.
This placed sucked big time. I saw a hole in the bathroom wall yesterday, and I'm pretty sure I saw something moving in there. The place was disgusting. Hopefully my mom was at least considering moving us to somewhere more sanitary. I didn't feel safe eating the cafeteria food, so I had to bring in lunch everyday. Plus, I wasn't exactly making friends easily. I wasn't a conversational person, and I didn't exactly send off 'I'm nice and I want to be your friend' vibes.
I slid into my desk in homeroom. There was an empty desk next to me; the girl had apparently been out sick for the three days I'd been here.
I took in the scene around me. Chalk dust crowded the ledge under the blackboard, and it was clear the thing hadn't been washed in about a month. The room was aching for a white board. The tiles were chipping away, but instead of putting in tiles that didn't match, they'd just put duct tape over it. There were words carved into some of the older, wooden desks. The whole room smelled like boiled eggs (translation: farts) and sweat, a nauseating combination. I was considering asking to go to the nurse when she walked through the door.
I had to blink a bunch of times to chastise myself for hallucinating. It was the smell. That awful smell was making me hallucinate.
But I don't think I was hallucinating, this time.
The girl walked up to the desk and handed a note to the teacher (I'd already forgotten her name). The teacher smiled and the girl turned toward the room and literally stopped short when she saw me sitting next to what must've been her seat. Her chocolate-brown eyes widened and I swear I saw her gulp.
The reason this girl had my full attention?
She looked a lot like Max. A near-perfect photocopy. Oh, sure there were differences - this girl had straighter hair, she was shorter, had freckles, her hair didn't have the hint of red that Max's had, her face was rounder, her eyes were darker, and was probably ten pounds heavier. I'm not saying she was fat, but Max was so light that anyone would be heavier than her. But other than those differences, the girl had the same darkish blond hair, brown eyes, small but full lips, and thick lashes. It was unreal. She wasn't totally the same, but she was like any lookalike - you could easily mistake them for someone else.
The girl finally managed to snap out of it and slowly sit down next to me. "Hi," she muttered. Her voice was different, too.
"Hey," I said emotionlessly.
"Are you new? I'm Maya." Another difference - Max would never automatically hand out that information.
"Yeah."
She nodded awkwardly. "What's your name?"
"Nick."
"Cool."
"Yeah." I faced the front of the room again.
When the bell rang, Maya followed me out of the classroom. "So, um, do you have a place to sit at lunch?"
No. "I kinda float around from place to place."
"Oh." She fiddled with a loose thread on her shirt. " 'Cause you can sit at my table if. . .if you want."
"Thanks," I said before trying to ignore her again.
This was not going to be a comfortable year.
Maya POV
Oh. My. God.
That was him - it had to be. The guy that Jeb had told me about. Fang.
The only thing he'd failed to mention was the fact that he was probably the hottest guy I've seen outside of an Abercrombie ad. He failed to mention the way his hair seemed like a dark silk curtain sweeping across his forehead, or how his eyes were so dark it looked like his pupils were nonexistant.
I rushed to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall. I reached into my pocket for the earpiece and slipped it into my ear. It crackled to life.
"Maya?" Jeb's voice was in her ear.
"I saw him," I whispered.
"Ah." Jeb's voice was different now. "You met Fang this morning?"
I nodded, then realized he couldn't see it. "Yeah. I did."
"So, now I'm gonna tell you something. Max's feelings are hardwired into you. If you were just naturally born, you wouldn't feel the way you do now. You wouldn't be staring after him dreamily and sighing every five seconds because you know that he's already with Max, right?"
"I know." I wish he would stop reminding me. That I wasn't naturally born, that Fang was Max's, yada yada yada.
"But here's the good news," Jeb said. "Your job is to tear him away from Max, little by little. That way, when he stops calling her and loses interest, Max'll be weak. And we'll finally get the Director off our backs." He didn't sound all 'let's celebrate our plan,' he sounded more 'let's go wallow in regret.' He should've known this was gonna have to happen, though; we'd found out that Fang was moving quite a while ago and we'd put this plan in action. 'This plan' being me.
"I know," I said again, then plucked the earpiece out of my ear and turned it off, hastily shoving it back into my sweatshirt pocket.
I should probably explain things, no? Yeah, well, I'm somewhat a clone. The place where I was 'born' is a lab. A lab where they created new technology that can pretty accurately clone someone if you have their DNA. Which Jeb had. I was cloned from this girl, Max, that they were trying to get into the lab. They'd been trying for months. This would be the third child that Jeb brought in for experiementation. And get this - they were all his kids. His other daughter would no doubt be following closely after Max.
I'd been told in advance that I'd have feelings that were nearly identical to this Max girl. Not the same personality, just the same feelings. For example, we both hated pink, but for different reasons. We both liked a good fight, but for different reasons. But the one thing we felt the same about was the boy - Fang. We both liked him for the same reason.
And I felt bad, because I was the one that was going to be expected to tear Fang away from Max. And I couldn't imagine anything harder than that. Other than standing on the sidelines and wathcing him belong to her.
That was what I'd been taught - that Fang belonged to Max and not me. I think they'd expected me to get angry at this, and challenge this, and rip him away from her. But that wasn't my reaction; it was Max's. They expected me to react like her, which I wasn't going to do. When they told me I couldn't have Fang, I said okay and meekly retreated to the sidelines. I still felt the same way about Fang, but I wouldn't act on it. They expected me to fight back, which I wouldn't do. If Fang belonged to Max, then let her have him. I wasn't going to be the one to ruin the feelings they had for each other.
At lunch, Fang actually did sit with me, which was a surprise. We sat at an empty table.
"So, are you liking it here?" I asked, working toward a halfway normal tone.
He seemed to be arguing with himself in his head. "The truth or the pretty lies?" I laughed, and was actually shocked he'd been able to make me laugh. He barely smiled. "The pretty lie is that while I miss my old school it's great here. The truth is that, and don't take this offensively, I honestly hate it here and its really overcrowded and dirtier than my last school."
"I don't blame you on that one," I mumbled. "It's a pigsty here."
He nodded. "Yeah."
The conversation ceased for a couple minutes while we ate in silence. Eventually I attempted to start another conversation.
"What's your old school like? And your old friends?"
"It's cool there," he said emotionlessly. "My old friends are kinda a mismatched group. We're all completely different from each other. Kinda like. . .opposites attract. . ." His voice trailed off thoughtfully and somehow I knew that he was thinking about Max. That cut deep and I looked down, fighting the tears that budded in my eyes. But I wasn't Max. I didn't have steel feelings. I pushed away from the table and ran out of the cafeteria, overreacting majorly.
Way to make everything like one big cheesy movie.
My feet raced through the halls and straight out the front doors. This was another thing we had in common, Max and I. We needed a good run to clear our heads. I'd never met Max, but I knew so much about her from the way they spoke about her and my own feelings.
I didn't know how long I'd been running, but eventually the the double yellow lines of the highway disappeared and charming little houses appeared. I felt a clutch in my heart.
I wanted a life like the people in these houses had. I wanted to be unique. I wanted to be the only person in the world with my fingerprints. I wasn't; I had Max's fingerprints. I wanted childhood memories and parents. I didn't want to just enter the world as a fourteen-year-old and have to learn to talk and walk and not be socially awkward in a matter of a month and be sent into school. I wanted to life in a place that wasn't sterile and white and reeking of antiseptic. I wanted honest-to-God mom-cooked comfort food and a room to call my own. Not what basically equaled a room with a table and a cot.
In the lab, that was considered special treatment. You were almost never placed in a room like I had. Unless you were being sent into the outside world. They fed you a little better, and didn't force you to life your life in a dog crate. And I was grateful at least for that. But I wanted even more.
Maybe it was time to accept the fact that I'd never get that.
Fang POV
I stared after Maya, bewildered. What was I supposed to do know? Just throw out her food? Leave it there in case she came back? Whatever.
I was still thinking about Max when suddenly another plastic tray slapped down on the table with a clatter. Two more trays followed after. I looked up. Halley and her friends. Of course. I groaned internally. Or maybe I groaned out loud. I really don't know.
"Girls," Halley said, sitting down. Her friends did the same. "This is Fang. That guy I met while I was working at the movie theater."
"I remember," one of the girls said. She was wearing an alarmingly low-cut tank top and had a tattoo on the inside of her wrist. Her smile seemed snakelike as she grinned at me. "Hey, I'm Gianna."
I nodded.
"I'm Bella!" The other girl just seemed too plain stupid to be a slut. She was bouncing up and down in her chair excitedly, her short blond pixie cut flitting around her face.
I nodded again.
"So," Halley said, cracking open a mini bottle of apple juice, "how's your 'girlfriend'?" She put air quotes around the word and tilted her head, as if saying 'we both know you don't have a girlfriend, so why don't you give it up?'
"Good," I said.
"When's the last time you saw her?" Halley prompted.
"Thanksgiving," I said quickly. "We spent Thanksgiving together before I moved."
Halley finally sighed. "Fang, I'm really doubting that you actually have a girlfriend. Not that I don't think you're worthy." She smiled at me nauseatingly. "More like, I think you're afraid to be in a relationship with someone like me, so you're just saying that." She grinned confidently.
"You can doubt it all you want, but I'm not lying to you," I said calmly.
Halley rolled her eyes. "Okay then, what does she look like?"
If she thought I'd crack under the pressure or something, that wasn't gonna happen. "She's got kinda wavy hair that's on the line between blond and brown with the barest hint of red. She has brown eyes. And she's got really long eyelashes. She's tall but really light. She's practically a toothpick." Don't I just have the soul of a poet? I impress even myself.
Halley raised an eyebrow. "I'm eventually gonna get you to admit it, Fang," she said playfully.
I shrugged. "Good luck with that."
She giggled flirtatiously, as if I'd said something totally funny. I rolled my eyes, not caring if she saw or not.
Maya didn't return for the rest of the day.
I wouldn't have cared if she didn't look so much like Max.
At home, I got on my laptop almost immediately. Max was waiting for me on video chat. I almost sighed in relief. It was like I expected her to just disappear one day or something.
Seconds later, Max's face was on my computer screen. She was looking down and fiddling with the necklace I'd given her, with a tiny crease between her eyebrows.
"Hey," I said.
She looked confused for a second, and then her whole face lit up vigorously the way Angel's did when I offered her a cookie from my mom. My whole world instantly seemed a little better, like I wouldn't be quite as miserable when I woke up in the morning because I'd be remembering how Max had smiled at me the minute she saw my face.
"Oh my God, I've missed you so much it's unreal," Max said, a little tearfully. "School is the worst without you. I'm so insensitive. I'm talking about my life when I should be asking you about yours. How is it?"
"It's still gross," I said easily, leaning back in my desk chair.
"What happened today? I wanna know everything."
I told Max about my day and my teachers and my homework, glossing over the part about Maya but including minimal details about my encounter with Halley.
"I hate her," Max said casually when I finished with the Halley story. "Stupid slut."
"Tell me about it." I paused. "How's life over there?"
She shuddered. "Awful. My mom's been working really long hours lately because there's been some kind of disease spreading through one of the local animal shelters, so she's overwhelmed with sick animals. Ella's turning into a major beeyotch. You can barely talk to her without getting stomping feet and slamming doors. The only time she talks to me calmly lately is to advise me on what to wear."
"Ouch," I muttered.
"I know. Winter cheerleading is like a boot camp. Mrs. Jenner keeps telling us stories about her new grandkid, and while that's better than listening to her rant about history, I'm seriously contemplating shoving a knife into my skull to get away from those stupid stories. Math is hell. The lunch table is awkward 'cause everyone is forcing laughter and stuff like that and we're all miserable because it just feels so weird without you there. Like putting your right shoe on your left foot. Our lit teacher is actually requiring that we read two books per month. I can't do that! I'm way too busy and I hate her already."
"She sucks."
"I know."
"So does my new room." I jerked my thumb over my shoulder.
Max's eyes scanned the room behind me. "That's just because you're so disorganized," she said matter-of-factly. "If you were the least bit organized and cared to unpack all of those boxes, then yeah, you wouldn't hate your new room so much." She sat back in her rollie desk chair.
"You promised my mom you'd come and help unpack," I reminded her. "Is that still standing?"
She bolted upright, almost falling off the chair. "Oh my God, how could I have forgotten about that?"
"Yeah, and you say I'm stupid."
"You are."
I shook my head. "So yeah, I take it you're coming over to help me unpack this weekend?"
"Yep."
"Awesome." I smiled - a real smile - for the first time all day.
I heard a faint voice coming from Max's end and a tentative knock. She swivelled around on her chair and faced the door. Ella entered with a surly expression.
"Mom said she's working late again. You're supposed to make dinner."
"You know I can't cook," Max said. "You do something."
"Seriously? You can't just pop a frozen pizza in the oven or something?"
"Do it for yourself." Max turned around again, the universal sign for 'I'm done talking to you so don't push it further.'
"I see what you mean," I muttered.
Ella planted a hand on her hip. "Max-"
"Bye, Ella."
She stomped her foot. "MAX! Mom put you in charge of dinner and I'm not cooking anything!" She stormed out of the room in a huff.
"Good luck starving, then!" Max yelled out the door before turning back to her computer. "See what I mean? Hell." She propped her elbows up on her desk and buried her face in her hands. I wanted to comfort her really badly, but I couldn't think of anything to do that wasn't a hug. I couldn't think of anything to say. Finally she peeked through her fingers. "Sorry. I'm boring."
"And I have the comforting presence of a slug. So we match." The utter truth of that statement hit me weirdly. Like I was just realizing it.
Max echoed my thoughts. "I guess we do match. We've kinda matched from day one." She gave a small, sad smile. (A/N: Let's hear it for alliteration.)
My mind suddenly shifted to what we'd learned in science before I'd left. It felt downright strange to compare science to an everyday conversation. . . "For every action, there's an-"
"Equal and opposite reaction," Max finished with a huge smile. "I'd forgotten about that. Remember when we were supposed to make flip books for it, but the substitute was so stupid that he didn't even realize we made up all that crap about working with partners?"
"Yeah. But it's so dorky that we even made that connection."
"You brought it up."
"You finished my sentence."
"I always do that!"
"Point made."
She grinned. "You know I like it when you admit I'm right."
"Why do you think I told you you're right?" I smiled slightly.
Her smile widened in response. We both just sat there, smiling goofily at each other before suddenly I heard something blasting through the speakers. Max jumped and fell off her chair. I laughed as she darted out of the room and around the corner, skidding on the hall carpet. I heard yelling from the room adjacent to hers and the noise suddenly ceased. She came back in the room, looking overly casual as she sat down.
"There was a complication with Ella," she said formally.
"I see."
More noise flowed from the speakers, but this time Max grabbed her phone off the desk. I heard Bruno Mars' voice on her ringtone.
"Bruno Mars? Seriously?"
She scowled. "Tess literally messes with my phone every day when we're taking a break at cheerleading. Her latest obsession is my ringtones. She's personalized ringtones for everyone in my contacts." She shook her head and glanced at the screen. "It's a text. . .from Iggy. Why would she set Bruno Mars as Iggy's ringtone?"
"I dunno," I mumbled. "Open it."
She read it slowly, mouthing the words. I tried to read her lips, but completely failed, and thought about how much I wanted to kiss her instead.
"Uh," she muttered. "It's written in Iggibberish."
"What?"
"Iggibberish," she repeated. "We came up with it the other day. When Iggy texts you with a mishmosh of words that probably makes sense to him, but absolutely zero sense to anyone else."
"Ah," I said. "So, what stupidity is he spewing this time?"
She cleared her throat and read the text. " 'I heard bout Ella ask for me if she does okay.' " She looked up. "What in the freaking world does that mean?"
"No idea," I said. "Find out."
She keyed in something and sent it. "Iggy," she sighed.
"The boy needs to learn," I agreed.
Maya POV
"It's hard."
"So was cloning a nearly-fifteen-year-old girl with only a sample of her DNA, but we still did it." Jeb ran his hands through his thinning hair.
My eyes watered. "You don't understand. I don't want to tear Fang away from Max. I'm not wired to react like her, and I'm not malicious and vindictive like you want me to be. You told me that Fang belongs to Max, and Max only. I didn't want to test that, so I said okay and let it go. You never planned that. You never plan anything!"
Jeb leaned forward, getting in my space. "I plan everything. I plan where you stay. I plan you not dying. I plan you getting fed everyday."
"Did you plan killing your own two sons?" As soon as the words slipped out, I wanted to grab them and stuff them back in my mouth and choke on them.
He looked like I'd slapped him. Mortified beyond belief, I sprang up from the chair I'd been sitting in and ran out into the hallway. I wondered if my run away impulse was mine or Max's. I wanted it to be mine. I wanted to be unique in a quantifiable way. I didn't want to be compared to someone else and feel pressured to be like her. I was tired of it. Why was I always the plan they relied on? They could've spent all this time planning something else. But instead they relied on me.
Not anymore. At least, I hoped.
Wellp, that sucked, but I didn't really feel like changing the plot completely again... I'm actually up to writing chapter 6. Almost done with it in fact. YAHOO!
Soo, did it suck? I think it did. I was like editing it and reading through it and it just hit me, y'know? I was thinking wow, I suck.
I have a really big project due on... Tuesday! :D Which SUCKS because I usually cram half of the work into the night before the project but I CAN'T DO THAT ANYMORE because I'm gonna be watching Pretty Little Liars.
*Drumroll please* My jazz/hip hop song is Good Feeling. It's so much fun. In a moment of sheer brilliance, my teacher combined her three-person jazz class and her three-person hip hop class into one. But one person in the jazz class dropped out for that stupid school play rehearsal, and another girl can't make it because she's going to a wedding the day of the recital. Do you not adore this? I totally do. :|
-dancerxforlifex3