Can I just say I want to take a nap and did most of this in one night because I lost my muse but then gained it back after watching a cheeseburger evolve into its final form? Is that believable? The answer is, of course, YES! Or no. I don't know. But yeah, this chapter was made quickly and in a stupor of sneezing every five seconds. I worked hard on it though!

Fantabulous Disclaimer of Pie

Me: IGGY! I missed you!

Iggy: I was right here the whole time you idiot.

Me: That's not nice.

Iggy: It's a cruel world.

Me: Just do the disclaimer before I set you in fire.

Iggy: The special little ginger over there doesn't own Maximum Ride, Marvel, Canada, Nirvana or Pearl Jam.

Me: *Sob* It's true!

Max POV

I woke up to the annoying sound of insistent pounding on my door. Not as in light 'do-you-wanna-build-a-snowman' knock, but actual 'holy-shit-the-incredible-Hulk-is-trying-to-get-me!' sort if knocking. Well, maybe a bit lighter, but Ella is a fifteen year old girl who seemed to be able to turn into the Hulk. I had been through it, so I knew quite a bit about the whole ordeal. Of course, you also had to take into account she had her first period last week and had actually texted me repeatedly about the pain. I had to convince her that I did not 'need the pain pictures'.

"MAXIMUM LUCIA MARTINEZ-BATCHLEDER! IF YOU DO NOT GET UP RIGHT NOW AND SHUT OFF THAT DAMN NIRVANA ALARM SONG I WILL COME IN THERE AND MURDER YOU WITH MY TOOTHBRUSH!" Ella screamed at me through the door. To say the least, she wasn't a morning person. You know how everyone has their own personalities? Well it's true with morning properties as well. For example, in the morning Ella became She-Hulk on her period and I became someone who couldn't keep their eyes open for three second before droning off to sleep again.

"Ella…*yawn*…I'll have you…*yawn*…know…*yawn*…this B-E-A-*yawn*UTIFUL song is…*yawn*…Pearl Jam, not…*yawn*…Nirvana." I mumbled through my tired state, lifting my head for a moment before flopping it back down onto my pillow and returning to my sleep.

"I COULD CARE LESS IF IT WERE BEASTIE BOYS SINGING ABOUT…WHATEVER! THE POINT IS, IT'S TIME FOR SCHOOL AND YOUR COMING!" She yelled through the door at me. Ahh yes…school. The usual bane of my existence. Just because I'm smart doesn't mean that I have to like getting up at six A.M. and having five hours of homework. Plus, the only people I even slightly knew at this school were the Ride's -who I personally hated at the moment- and Ella.

"School schmool. I have an arranged date with my *yawn* bed and I don't plan to miss it." I answered my sister. My mumbling was such a drastic volume change from her intense screaming, it almost scared me. It was usually me screaming at nothing and everything -I'm not allowed to watch hockey in public anymore- and her being shy and humble, but still having a steady tone if voice.

"MAXIM-…" Ella started before quickly stopping. I could almost hear the devious smile spreading over her face. "You know, if you don't come out and get ready, I may come in. With my makeup. And a new test subject."

I was up within the next two seconds. While Ella was a slight tomboy -I'm not saying she doesn't squeal over random dude's abs though- she would never miss out on an opportunity to torture her older sister. Which, unluckily, happened to be me. Sure, she was good at makeup and outfits and that stuff girls are supposed to be good at, and I was all for it -kind of- but when she came charging at my with a blush brush like she's going into war, I'm running and you better hope you can keep up.

"I'll count to three. One…two…" Ella began, counting as fast as she could but still trying to make it seem like I could rescue myself.

"I'm up! I'm up! No need to take out the numbers this early in the morning!" I said, somehow managing to sit up in my bed, my legs swinging loosely over the edge, toes just skimming the carpeted ground. I heard Ella sigh before marching off -most likely to pamper herself. Turning off my alarm, I stuck my feet hastily into my slippers and threw on a jacket I had lying next to my bed.

While I did sleep fully dressed, the whole PJ pants and tank top shebang, I did have some modesty, which usually led me to always have a jacket on. My bottom half could be totally naked, but it wouldn't bother me as long as I had a jacket on. Was that odd?

Sighing, I bid my warm bed a goodbye, swearing I would return to it later, and stood up. I began swaying slightly but quickly got my balance as I groped blindly with my hand and grasped onto a chair. Keeping my eyes shut tightly, I stumbled across my room and to my door before opening it and somehow making it out into the hallway.

Eventually I reached the stairs and from there on kept one eye half open as I clomped down the stairs. I had enough talent that I could even clomp around in slippers my friend and I had bought at comic-con. Given they had ducklings on them, though, it seemed to make the feat even bigger.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs I was met with the smell of chocolate chip pancakes, my stomach rumbled greedily just at the thought of devouring them while they were soaked in maple syrup. And not that crappy fake American kind, real Canadian maple syrup. It is the definition of liquid heaven and you can not deny it.

What made eating these pancakes even more desirable was the fact that I knew my mother was feeding me these to try to butter me up for what had happened last night. Oh yeah, last night. I almost forgot about that and now it was all coming back to me. I frowned slightly at the thought but then smiled deviously. Even with all of this buttering up, I wouldn't forgive my parents. I mean, they could have at least discussed this with me. Like 'hey, Max! By the way your getting married to some dude you don't know because you're nothing more than a business proposal we can throw away like paper in a wastebin!' Well, that seems to be about the same, but they could have at least warned me about it!

"Morning Max!" My mother cheered at me. I simply grunted at her, immediately going back into zombie-Max mode.

Flomping down in my seat at the table I peeked through my eyelashes at the food laid out in front of me. Of course, it is all my favorite types. Chocolate chip pancakes along with a jug of maple syrup, a plate of bacon, donuts, and croissants all sat neatly in front of me. Fast metabolism was once my thought of a curse, I mean girls were supposed to be eating salads and going on diets. I was the girl in the corner who seemed too skinny as she ate a bison burger dripping in hot sauce. Now I was extremely happy for it though. I could eat all the food that I pleased and burn it off by walking to the public library.

Grabbing a plate, I piled up with food and ate it just as quickly as I gathered it. That's probably why people didn't often ask if I wanted to share some food. My friend had once made that mistake and I ended up eating every single morsel on her plate, even though her Russian cuisine made my stomach lurch from time to time.

"Okay bye." I grumbled after I had finished off my breakfast plate, I even bothered to lick up the syrup that covered most if the plate. My parents knew I wouldn't get over this for a while, and they -sort of- respected that. They let me handle it on my own, sometimes suckering up to me to make the process speed up.

Clomping back up the stairs and down the hall, I made a big show of slamming my door and clomping across my floor. What I did that for, I wasn't entirely sure of, it just felt right. You know what I mean, right? Maybe you don't though, I'm not you.

Now we get to the fun part, changing! Okay, it's not really that fun considering my usual outfit -jeans and either a long sleeve shirt or a sweatshirt over a t-shirt- were all major no-no's in the changing seasons of Great Falls. With the blistering cold winters here, you'd think the summers would still be cold. Sorry to disappoint you, but it's the opposite. We have freezing cold winters that make you wish for summer and summers so hot that they made you long for winter to come back.

So, being the beginning of summer and all, pants were out of the question. Sweatshirts however, were always needed for me. I would like to interject you train of thought and turn it around. No, I do not self harm, I had an okay life and didn't see the point of doing it when I was pretty content with how I am right now. I just love sweatshirts, they always made me feel so homey, like a hug or something. You get what I'm saying? Good, now don't let your train of thought turn around, that's for some other story.

I began to rummage through my small collection of shorts, most of them being either basketball shorts or running shorts that is still had to wash from gym back at school, and a few short shorts. Really, I never have come into a situation where I actually may have to wear short shorts. If I ever got invited somewhere, it was usually during the school year with my friends and so I never had to really worry about wearing shorts, pants being much more preferable for me. Why I even owned short shorts was a mystery to me as well. Still, it's either being heated to a crisp, wearing smelly gym shorts, or wearing shorts that make me feel -but not particularly look- like a slut.

Slut shorts it is, I guess. Grabbing the most decent pair there was, which still showed off more of my leg than I liked, I snagged a gray t-shirt and a sweatshirt my friend had got me for my birthday last year.

The most decent shorts were made out of something a little more comfortable than jeans, but less comfortable than sweatpants and were a sky blue color and made me feel extremely self conscious. Sure, running shorts were just about this short, if not a little longer, but I felt as if this was showing off my entire lower body. You know what I said about being totally naked underneath and being comfortable in just a sweatshirt earlier? Yeah, well, I lied. This was absolutely horrible.

Taking a deep, soothing breath I looked myself straight on in the mirror, the messy bird nest hair and small dark circles underneath my eyes stared back, a determined look on the mirror girl's face.

"You're awesome." She murmured to me just as I murmured to her. Hey, a little self encouragement was never bad, as long as the ego didn't get too big.

I then continued to get dressed. As mentioned, my t-shirt was just a plain gray and my sweatshirt was red with the white script 'I Wish I Was Canadian!' and had a maple leaf underneath it. This friend was Canadian and proud, often reminding me that he was and I wasn't. Hopefully not all Canadians are like this, just him.

Brushing my hair was an amazing feat as it is, considering that it looked like a rat had decided to make a summer vacation home in it. Once my hair was somehow subdued I braided it down my back and tied it up. I doubt it's absolutely necessary to go through all of my morning acts.

Once I put on my knee high socks along with my combat-hiking boots, I threw twenty bucks and two books along with a textbook of neurosurgery into an old book bag I had stole from my favorite uncle some twelve years ago and headed out of my room. Ella was standing there, tapping her toe impatiently.

"There you are! And I thought I took forever to get ready. Listen, the bus picks us up at 7:05. It is now officially," Ella took a moment to check her watch, "6:54. If we don't want to miss the bus we have to move, the bus driver is nice and all, but doesn't wait for anybody."

That was short and quick and no point and a filler and Canadian. I know what's going to happen next chapter but I don't have the energy to write it right now and I don't want you to think I've died yet so I'm just gonna post this and hope you don't want to murder me too hard for it. Just kill me a little bit, okay? Not too much, because I still need to continue this fanfiction, now don't I? Do you know this song?

You didn't close the door

Left a crack open

I couldn't ignore the faint possibility

Of having hope in this insanity

That we still could be

But we're stuck floating in between

And then it hits the chorus, maybe I should choose songs that have longer 'building actions' so to speak. Also, Happy Easter! Or, as I went around screaming at everyone, GLAD PÅSK! So…reviews are appreciated and loved. Also, if it helps, I'll add just the smallest dash of Fax into either the next chapter or the one after that. Just a dash, it's not going to light some huge roaring Faxy fire. Read, review, goat cheese, the usual.