A/N: Hey, so I hope you're happy that I got the second chapter up so quick! Don't expect such quick updates all the time, what kind of author would I be if I didn't keep my readers in suspense? ;)
(Also, I noticed some silly mistakes in my last chapter, I'll try not to make any this time!)

Max POV:

Mr Allen heaved my bag up onto the baggage shelf above my seat for me. I was quite impressed, actually, that bag was really heavy. Iggy managed to put his up himself, and went to sit with his friends at the back of the coach. I rolled my eyes. They called themselves the backseat boys; Iggy, Dylan, Sam and Ari. They were the badboys in our high school, and they did come across as the kind of I'll-kick-your-puppy guys, but they were real softies when you got to know them.

I sat alone. Iggy and I were quite early to get on the bus, since mum thought we had to be here half an hour earlier than we actually did. None of my friends were here yet (is it just me or does that sound really cheesy?).

"Hey, Max! Aren't you excited about this trip? My brother went last year and he says you get really muddy and stuff so I didn't bring many of my designer clothes, hey, are those new converse? They look amazing! I got some half-price in Primark last week, is that where you got them? I really like them! Maybe we can swap shoes, OMG that would be so cool! People would be like-"

I slapped a hand over her mouth. I take back the cheesy thing I said about none of my friends being here. Meet Nudge. The talk-a-tron.

"Ew, Nudge!" I yelped as she licked my hand. "Gross! Nudge germs!"

Nudge rolled her eyes. "Sorry I exploded on you," she said sheepishly, making me laugh. Whenever Nudge has one of her 'episodes', or 'explosions', she talks nonstop for ages. We've timed her, and her record for non-stop talking is three and a half hours.. Yeah.

Nudge always calls them 'explosions' which reminds me of Iggy. Who, by the way, she has a huge crush on. Heh.

By now, people were starting to cue behind Nudge, who was still standing in the isle. Before anyone got grumpy I invited her to sit on the inside. I always sit on the outside seat. It's like an unspoken rule that everybody follows without questioning it.

Nudge sat down and started talking about something again. I nodded along and took out my iPod and headphones. I held one out to her.

"Shut up and listen," I said with a grin. She smiled at me and took it, then wriggled it into her ear. I put my one in too, and Bastille started thumping into my right eardrum. (if you're obversant, you may have noticed that I like Bastille. You probably would have guessed earlier if I'd described the posters that cover my bedroom walls, but that would take hours...).

The coach was starting to fill up, and I could hear the random chatter of my fellow students (hah) through my unoccupied ear. The school slut, Lissa, was complaining about how she didn't even want to go, but her parents had said it would be good for her pores or something. I quickly moved on when she started talking about how many different colours of thong she had (she wasn't even embarrased as people stared at her in disgust, the pig) .

"Everyone sit down, we leave in five minutes!" Mr Allen called, looking up briefly from his conversation with Ms Cairn, who everyone is pretty sure he has a crush on. Aw.

The last people were getting on now. I recognised most of them from my classes, except this boy. He was one of the very last to clamber onto the coach, and he was dressed all in black: black converse, black jeans, black baseball cap and, you guessed it, a black hoodie (why was the hood up? It wasn't raining inside the coach, was it?). I figured he was emo or something. The only thing I could make out under his hood were a few long bangs hanging over where his left eye would be, if I could see it.

"..Max? Maaaaax? Max!"

I blinked and turned to Nudge, who was smirking at me. "You were totally checking him out!" she squealed, pointing to the guy-in-black that I had been looking (not staring!) at.

I felt colour rise to my cheeks. "I was totally not!"Nudge just smirked, before going back to singing along to the Bastille track that was currently playing. I let out a breath that sounded more like an indignant huff and turned back to the aisle. The emo-boy was now sitting in the seat directly across the aisle from me. He was taking out a slightly battered looking iPod and headphones.

"What music do you like?" I asked him. He didn't look up where he was now untangled the wire on his headphones (which, I feel I should add, are white. Huh, shouldn't they be black? Kinda ruining my emo theory here).

"Hey! I asked you a question!" Yeah, I don't like being ignored.

His head shot up, and his hood fell down. I stared. There was a massive jagged scar running down the left side of his face. He hastily pushed his long, dark bangs over it selfconsciously, before yanking his hood back up.

"D'no," he muttered.

"D'no? Never heard of them before," I remarked sarcastically. This guy was starting to piss me off.

"Linkin Park," he muttered quickly, and I could tell he was glaring at me, though I couldn't see because of the shadow the cap and hood made over his face.

"How'd you get that scar?" I asked. He visibly tensed. Turning away from me, he plugged the now untangled wire into his iPod, put his headphones on and stared out the window. Even with Bastille in one ear, I could definitely hear the unmistakable sound of Linkin Park blasting from those white headphones.

"Fine, be like that," I muttered, before turning back to Nudge.

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Fang POV:

I could feel that girl staring at me. It was making me uncomfortable and I wanted to change seats, but because it took so long to bandage my wounds so the blood didn't show too much, I was one of the last ones on the bus, and this was the only seat left.

I rummaged around in my bag, which was quite light, due to my lack of my belongings, for my iPod and my headphones. They were almost definitely the most valuable things I owned, and I scavenged the headphones from a shopkeeper (I still owe him twenty quid) and my mother got me the iPod before she.. passed away.

Anyway, this girl kept staring at me, and I kept ignoring her, even when she asked me what type of music I liked. Talking to people makes me feel nervous, like I'm exposing all my secrets without realizing. Weird.

"Hey! I asked you a question!"

My head shot up at her angry tone, and I had to fight every cell in my body so I didn't flinch. Just my luck, my hood fell down and my face was exposed. Shit. She was staring at the left side of my face, and I knew my scar was visible. I quickly brushed some hair in front of my eye, hiding it. That had been the first 'present' my dad had given me. Three weeks after my mother passed away. Three weeks after he'd murdered her..

I blinked, returning to the present. I need to stop thinking about that, it was four years ago for god's sake! I need to stop thinking about her. But how can you just stop thinking about your mother?

I yanked my hood back up. Suddenly remembering that the girl had asked me a question, I mumbled a quiet, "Dunno."

"D'no? Never heard of them before," she said harshly, her eyes deceiving how little she thought of me right now.

"Linkin Park," I muttered quickly, giving her a glare she probably couldn't see. Oh well.

"How'd you get that scar?" she asked me. Whoa. Nobody asks that. They all kinda guess that I don't wanna talk about it, due to the fact I always hide it. Is she really this thick?

I turned away from her, trying to relax my tensed shoulders. I put my headphones on (they're white, wow, don't die of shock) and skipped to my favourite Linkin Park song. With the volume turned up as loud as it would go, I managed to relax slightly as comforting, familiar words blared into my ears.

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Max POV:

I talked to Nudge for a good half hour before I remembered about the boy sitting beside us (well, across the aisle, but whatever!). I turned my head to look at him, whilst taking my earplug out. It was starting to hurt my ear.

I almost did a double take as I saw that the boy now was facing us, with his back against the window and his legs straightened out on the empty seat next to him. I couldn't if his eyes were closed or not, but I couldn't feel his eyes on me, so I guessed not.

A sudden shaft of sunlight flickered over him, illuminating his facial features for a few brief seconds. His eyes were closed, and dark lashes made shadows over his cheeks. His lips were parted slightly, and I could see the bottom of his top middle teeth (did that even make sense?). His cheekbones stood out perfectly, and I had a crazy desire to trace them through his tanned skin. I reached forward, my arm outstretched, before a hand yanked my it back.

"What were you doing?" Nudge questioned, letting go of my forearm. She had one plucked eyebrow raised at me.

"I- er, nothing," I mumbled. "I was going to turn the air con off, it's getting slightly chilly."

"Did Maximum Ride just use the word 'chilly'?" Nudge snorted. "And it's not cold, it's roasting. God knows how he's still alive in that hoodie." She nodded to him.

"Oh. Haha, I thought it was cold. I guess I must have felt a draft coming from somewhere." I laughed nervously. Nudge raised her other eyebrow so now they were both raised at me. Jeez.

"Mhmmm."

But in my head, I was asking myself one question.

Did I just feel attracted to some emo guy I don't even know?

Weird.

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A/N: Thank you, thank you! *catches bouquet of roses* Aw, you're too sweet!
Max: Er, those are for Fang. Y'know, the sexy emo-
Me: *slap* Fang is not emo! He wears black so you can't see the blood! Goodness, have some sympathy!
Max: Did you just slap me?
Me: *gulp*

Anyway, please review! Max really wants you to. I hope. She should, this story is all about her and Fang!

~LightningEagle~