Dedicated to: MysteryTyper123, DaughterOfWolf, Fly On Maximum Taylor Ride (thanks!), padfootlover109 (Thank you for the review! I really appreciate your constant reviewing! =D =D =D), The Seagull (thanks for the review!), LilacRose6 (thanks for the review! Don't worry, IGGERS, you're gonna be blind! I'll think of a plausible reason why!), Bookworm2011 (thank you so much!), Bebeba (thankyouireallyappreciateit XD), Hayden3080, Bama-born-and-raised (I'm glad you likeys. Was this soon enough? I hope so!), Valkary (thank you for your wisdom, Princess.), Cadisha Ora Rhaksha Caden (did I get that right? And in response, YAY!), xXSurfingDreamsXx, feathers789, and Jace'n'FangLover (Thanks! And I love it when stories have soccer too! That's a lot of the reason why that's in here. =D)

I FIXED THE SPACING! =D 3/30/11 and 11/21/12

I dribbled the ball carefully down the field, tapping it with the lightest of touches. Even at my cautious pace, I was flying past halfbacks and defenders on the other team like they were standing still. Some of them WERE standing still. I guess they hadn't expected me to trap their goalie's dropkick and control it. Now I had left my position as sweeper far behind, sprinting with the ball towards the opposing goal.

A small defender from the other team darted forward in an attempt to stop my progress towards her goal. Without breaking stride, I twirled in the complex move known as the Maradona, my feet keeping the ball steady as I pirouetted past the girl. My hair whipped harshly against my cheek as I turned, rolling the ball towards my left foot. As soon as I hit the goal box, I swept my foot towards the ball, connecting with it in a satisfying action. It was a good kick; I could feel it. Stopping stock still, I watched the ball curve through the bright blue sky, sailing towards the net. The goalie, a tall blond, leapt to try and block my shot, but I was sure she would miss. The ball flew gracefully towards her, seeming to be in slow motion. I could've sworn it was going in when-

"Miss Ride!"

I awoke from my dream with a start, my head flying up off the desk. Immediately, I covered a huge yawn and blinked at my very displeased history teacher. "Yes, Ms Helms?" I asked, trying not to let my yawn into my voice. I could hear some very distinctive laughter coming from the rest of the class. The teacher's frown grew.

"I don't know how they taught at your old school, Max, but here we do not fall asleep during lectures." Ms Helms' voice dripped with ice, but I brushed her warning off airily.

"I'm sorry, I had a late night last night," I explained, smiling at her apologetically. Ms Helms narrowed her eyes at me, but didn't say anything. Instead, she headed back to the front of the classroom. Immediately, the fake smile slid off my face and my head slumped onto my desk again.

"Ugh..." I groaned into my arms.

"Nice," a voice snickered to my left. I jerked my head up to glare at the speaker, but they didn't seem to notice. "I see you're already on Miss Hell's bad list."

"Miss Hell?" I asked, a smile forming on my face against my will.

The boy grinned back. "Yep. Fitting, am I right?" I nodded, laughing quietly. I took the chance to study the boy more closely.

The nicknamer had spiky, strawberry-blond hair, a pale complexion, and ice blue eyes. The boy seemed tall, and his arms were long and wiry. He was dressed in a white hoody over a green shirt, gray jeans, and converse, and there didn't seem to be any binders or pencils around his desk. Suddenly, the boy's carefree face morphed into an expression of resignation. "You nodded, didn't you?" he asked, sounding bored. Surprised, I raised an eyebrow, but he seemed to be waiting for an answer.

"Uh, yeah. Why? Is there a problem with that?" I asked, slightly confused. The boy sighed, then abruptly changed the subject.

"My name is Iggy. You're 'Miss Max Ride', right?" Iggy confirmed.

"Yep," I replied, craning my neck to glance over at Miss Helms. Iggy noticed, a wicked grin forming on his pale face.

"Miss Hell never notices when people talk, so you don't have to worry. Honestly, I'm surprised she noticed you had fallen asleep," Iggy admitted. I pushed him lightly, grinning.

"She woke me up right when I was going to score, too!" I whined, pouting. Iggy laughed, turning to face me in his seat.

"What sport were you dreaming about?" he asked, his cloudy blue eyes sparking with interest. I grinned, happy to be able to talk about my favorite subject.

"Well, soccer, of course! It's just the best sport ever, that's all." I glanced down at my binder, which I had been using as a pillow. Grimacing, I wiped a trace of saliva off my science notes. "Eww, I drooled on my papers," I complained. Iggy snickered.

"That's the price you have to pay when you powernap during history!" he scolded, mimicking Miss Helms. I laughed out loud, drawing a couple stares. Iggy grinned, waving at some of them. "So, what brings you here to our humble school, Miss Ride?"

"Job switch" I replied, "My sister's father left our mom when we were younger, so our mom always moves around trying to find better jobs. She's a veteranarian, and pretty respected in her field."

"Your sister's father? Not yours?" Iggy clarified, looking curious. I nodded.

"My biological father Jeb left my mom when I was just about eight months old. Almost immediately though, she met another man, and married him. Ten months later, my dearest baby sister Ella Cynthia Martinez was born. Ella's dad never liked me very much, since I refused to change my name to Martinez, Batchelder, or Jones, which was his last name. It irritated him to no end, which was pretty entertaining."

"Where did you get Ride from, then?" Iggy interjected, not shy in the least. I didn't mind; it wasn't as if I was hiding anything. Iggy seemed like a good guy.

"I didn't want Batchelder, 'cause Jeb sounded like a jerk for leaving my mom. I didn't want Jones, 'cause Ella's dad wasn't my favorite guy. I didn't want Martinez 'cause it just didn'tfeel right. Then one day I was reading a book, and the name Sally Ride jumped out at me. She was amazing. I liked her, so I adopted her name," I explained. "My mom thought it was really cool. She didn't mind at all." Absentmindedly, I doodled a sketch of a soccer ball in the margins of the 'notes' I was taking.

"That's cool," Iggy declared after a moment of silence. "I kinda chose the name Iggy. My real name is Jonathan, but it never seemed to fit me. When I was little, I said I wanted to be, 'biggy like Daddy!' People called me Biggy for awhile, kind of jokingly, but it evolved into Iggy, and everyone calls me that now."

"That's a fun story," I told Iggy, smiling slightly. "Poor little Jonny wanted to be biggy!"

"Shut up," Iggy ordered, half-smiling. I smirked, and was about to reply when the bell rang. "Hey, do you want to sit with me and my friends at lunch? There's plenty of room at the lunch table," Iggy offered. I smiled as I stood up, happy at the prospect of not sitting alone.

"I'd love to. Come on, Iggers! I'm starving!" I exclaimed, hurrying out of the classroom. Iggy scowled, closing his pale blue eyes and navigating the hallways with them shut.

"Don't call me that," he grumbled, maneuvering expertly past a couple making out against the lockers. I watched in awe as he walked quickly through the hall with his eyes closed. It was very impressive. I couldn't walk through my room with the lights off without bumping into something, and here was Iggy, walking blindly through a highschool hallway without the slightest of troubles. He stopped suddenly, and turned to look back. "You coming, Max?" he asked, looking puzzled. I snapped out of my trance, hurrying to keep up with him. At six feet, Iggy was about five inches taller than me. Therefore, his legs were longer, and I was kept scurrying all the way to the quad, where everyone sat at blue plastic picnic tables, eating their lunches and talking with friends.

"IGGY!" A girl's voice shrieked. He flinched, and I grimaced as I recognized the voice. It was my least favorite person at this school so far, and she kept showing up absolutely everywhere. That's just my awful luck coming into play.

"Lissa dearie. How nice to see you again!" Not. I smiled a sickly sweet smile at her, and she attempted to glare back. Instead, she looked constipated.

"Stay out of this, Maxie-poo," Lissa snarled, tossing her red waves over her shoulder. I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, although I was boiling at the name she had called me. That girl will not live long if she keeps treating me like crap. No one ever does. A wicked smile grew on my face at the very thought. Lissa, however, was blissfully oblivious to my bloodthirsty thoughts, and instead was pouting at Iggy. "Iggy Fields, why on earth did you kiss me yesterday?" Lissa shrieked, ignoring my presence. I was shocked; why would Iggy want to kiss a girl like Lissa? He didn't seem like one of the guys who would like Lissa.

Iggy smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "If I remember correctly, you kissed me," Iggy pointed out calmly, apparently enjoying Lissa's anger. The redhead stamped her foot, looking about ready to scream.

"You made me lose my boyfriend!" Lissa growled, seeming angry rather than upset. Iggy still looked calm, and amusement danced in his pale eyes. I didn't blame him. Lissa's frustration was rather entertaining, after all.

"Au contraire, ma stupide fille," Iggy began, looking mischievous.

"You did that by yourself. Fang got tired of your 'flirtatious' tricks, don't you understand that?" Lissa's jaw dropped. Iggy turned, continuing towards his destination. I was about to follow him when there was suddenly a flawless French manicure digging into my shoulder.

"My threat still stands," Lissa hissed in my ear. "Stay away from Fang. I'll get him back again, and I don't want you interfering."

I smiled at her, pushing her hand roughly off my shoulder. "Don't touch me. And, from what I've gathered, Lissy, you aren't getting your Fangy back. Bye!" With that, I strode away, my head held high and my arms tensed. I didn't know why, but for some reason Lissa really got to me. Maybe it was just her similarities to Brigid, maybe it was something else...

"Yo Max! Over here," Iggy called, glancing a couple feet to my left. I turned to see what he was looking at, but there was nothing, just a trashcan. Strange.

When I reached the table Iggy was sitting down at, I looked around at the occupants. There was Fang, a boy with blonde hair, one with brown, JJ, and two other girls. They all looked at me curiously, except for Fang and Iggy, who had started on their lunches. When Iggy noticed the silence, he looked up, waving his hands around. "Well, go on everybody. Introduce yourselves!"

That seemed to be the cue line, because everyone immediately tried to introduce themselves at once. I felt slightly claustrophobic as one of the girls pulled me down next to them, but pushed the feeling aside. Instead of fleeing, I smiled hesitantly at the girl. She grinned back, and immediately started talking.

Wow. This girl had stamina. She talked fast, hard, and nonstop, smiling all the way through.
Again. Wow!

Fang's POV

I had to hide a small smile as I watched Max being stuffed into the space between Nudge and JJ. She looked mildly panicked, but apparently discarded the feeling in favor of a grin. That started Nudge off, and when she starts talking, she doesn't stop.

"Hi! My name is Monique, but no one calls me that 'cause it never seemed to fit me. Instead my friends call me Nudge! We don't really have any idea why, it just happened one day when I had fudge in my lunch and there was a cat being chased around by a seagull and Iggy pushed me into the water fountain and yeah, it was really weird. No one knows exactly why my nickname is Nudge. I already said that, didn't I? But yeah! I'm Nudge!" Surprisingly, Nudge's ramble was fairly short, although confusing and hard to follow. As always.

Max nodded, attempting to process all the information. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she thought, I noticed, quietly examining her.

Max was definitely pretty. Her long blondish-brownish hair was streaked with long strands of pale gold, and it gleamed in the sunlight. Her skin was golden, tanned darker on her upper arms. Max's eyes were brown, like milk chocolate, but they were constantly shifting with emotion, which I found interesting. Lissa's eyes were always so boring, staying in their dull green glimmer constantly. Max's eyes were practically dancing, never the same for longer than a couple seconds.

Wait a second. Why was I comparing Max to Lissa? I was confusing myself.

Shaking my head, I tuned back into the table conversation. Apparently, introductions had already been made, because Max was talking freely with JJ, Nudge, Terra, and Iggy. Jake and Vlasis were discussing some new cheat they had discovered on the video game they both played, and didn't seem interested in the group conversation. However, I was.

"So she was basically a clingy bitch to him?" Max clarified, glancing at me. Iggy nodded, looking grim. "So why did he stay with her?" she pressed, sounding confused. Iggy shrugged.

"Ask him," he offered, taking another bite of his sandwich. Max turned to me, looking completely at ease. JJ, Nudge and Terra looked at me expectantly, holding their food poised by their mouths.

"Yo Fangles, why did you date Lissa for so long?" Max asked me. My jaw dropped, and I turned to glare at Iggy. Of course, he didn't notice, continuing to eat his lunch. "Well?" Max prompted. I sighed, not wanting to talk about it.

"I don't know," I muttered, hedging. "I had to deal with her already, so it didn't seem to matter how we were associated." Max looked exasperated with my vague answer.

Terra's jaw dropped, and she gasped audibly. Max glanced over at her, puzzled. In response, Terra pretended like she was going to faint. "Fang spoke in," she whispered dramatically. "Complete. Sentences. THE APOCOLYPSE IS NIGH! NIGH I SAY!" Terra bellowed, standing up with her granola bar in hand. I mentally facepalmed, outwardly unaffected by my weird friend's outburst. Terra didn't care about what other people thought about her, and her attitude often prompted embarrassing scenes in public.

"Yo Terrs, shut up," Iggy ordered, pulling her back down on the bench. Terra grumbled, but sat down.

Max looked amused by this display, but didn't say anything about it. Instead, she glanced at Iggy's lunch bag. There was a bag of Wheat Thins in it, which I happened to know that Iggy loathed. However, Max's eyes lit up when she spotted them. "Wheat Thins!" she cheered, reaching over and plucking them straight out of Iggy's bag. "Ooh, Wheat Thins! I love these things! Can I have them Igs?" she pleaded. "Please?"

"I had Wheat Thins?" Iggy asked, disgusted. "Eww, take them all, Max. I hate those things."

Max smiled, tearing the bag open immediately. Suddenly though, she stopped. "Wait, why didn't you know you had Wheat Thins?" Max asked, confused. "They were sitting right in front of you."

"That's slightly obvious, Max," I pointed out. She frowned.

"No it's not," Max insisted. "Why didn't you see them?" Suddenly, it clicked, and I scowled, lobbing my apple at Iggy. The fruit pegged him neatly on the shoulder, and he scowled back at me in reply.

"What was that for?" he whined, rubbing his shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell her?" I retorted, not about to be taken off track. Iggy's scowl deepened, and he crossed his arms.

"I thought it would be obvious," Iggy muttered, looking annoyed. I knew why. I had blown his cover, ruined the façade he tried to wear. Max looked completely confused, and the rest of the table was silent. Finally, Max couldn't stand not knowing, and blurted out, "What would be obvious? Look, I know I'm the new girl, and new girls are always confused on their first day. But what the heck is up with you guys? Secrets right and left! Jeez, you can't even eat lunch without a couple mysterious arguments coming into play. I'm going to find my sister," Max ranted, standing up. She grabbed her lunchbag and hopped over the bench, striding angrily away. I watched her leave, feeling my irritation with Iggy fade. Instead, it was replaced with regret. Iggy and I had very different views on one subject. That subject happened to be his sorest point, also, which didn't help things. At all.

Iggy's sore spot?

His blindness.

MaxPOV

I shoved my hair angrily into a messy ponytail as I walked quickly away from the lunch area. I was already beginning to regret my decision to leave. Ella would no-doubt be with the millions of new friends she would have miraculously met since homeroom. However, her friends were usually not my type of girls, the kind that were boy-crazy and obsessed with fashion. To be fair, Ella did have a few friends that I really liked back in Nevada, but I wasn't feeling optimistic about her new friends here.

These thoughts made me stop in my tracks, making me suddenly not wanting to find Ella. Where could I go? There was still another forty minutes left of lunch, and here I was with nothing to do-

My eye was immediately caught by the beautiful, graceful arc of a soccer ball flying through the air. I watched its path, captivated, as the ball landed swiftly and neatly into the top corner of the goal. Instantly, my binder was stowed under a bench, and I sprinted out to the soccer field. I couldn't help myself; I needed to play. "Hey!" I called to the group of boys crowded around the goal. They turned to look at me, watching as I slowed to a jog. "Hey, who shot that goal?" I asked boldly. I slid into place in a gap in their circle, not bothering to wait for an invitation.

The boys looked surprised, but answered me. "That was Gazzy. He's amazing," a redhead informed me, shoving a boy forward.

"I assume you are Gazzy?" I clarified. The boy nodded, reaching up to run a hand through his spiky blond hair. "That was a beautiful shot. Perfect."

"Thanks," Gazzy replied, smiling bashfully at me. "Do you play?"

"I don't play, I live. Soccer is the best!" I pumped my fist in the air, eliciting a couple laughs from the boys.

"Amen," Gazzy said, grinning. "Do you want to take a couple shots?"

"Sure. Do you guys just shoot, or do you scrimmage?" I asked, watching the redhead who identified Gazzy retrieve the ball from the net.
"Both. We warm up with shooting, and scrimmage for the rest of lunch. And I'm just warning you, there is no mercy here."

"Oh, that's no problem. I won't show you any mercy either," I replied swiftly. Gazzy and his friends laughed, and we lined up about
twenty feet away from the goal. The redhead passed me the ball, and I trapped it under my left foot, rolling it to the exact spot I wanted. The boys watched quietly as the redhead crouched in goal, staring at the ball under my foot. I backed up a few steps, and took a running start towards the ball. As I slammed my left foot into the side of the ball, I knew immediately that I had hit it wrong. Predictably, the ball sailed up over the white crossbar of the goal. I watched it hit the ground ten feet behind the goal, bouncing merrily away. The redhead straightened, smiling at me. I heard the other boys laughing behind me, too, and turned to glare at them. "Now that's not very nice," I scolded them playfully, not actually very mad. My shot had been pretty laughable. Trust me to mess up my first impression on these soccer fanatics. Gazzy grinned cheekily.

"No mercy!" he chanted. The boys nodded, echoing him and slapping high fives. I shook my head, jogging out to retrieve the ball. I picked it up and wiped some of the mud off, before turning and dropkicking the ball back to the boys. I walked back slowly, watching as Gazzy lined the ball up for another perfect shot on the redhead. The boy pretended to start crying at the second goal scores on him, and Gazzy clapped him on the shoulder before he got up again, grinning. The other five boys each took shots on goal too, and two of them scored. The other three's shots were caught neatly by the redhead. He was actually a good goalie, but the boys were also really good shots. By now I had figured out who the good players in this group were. Overall, everyone here was a great player. However, Gazzy was spectacular, scoring with practically every shot he took. The other two boys who had scored on the redhead were pretty good, too, and the last three seemed to be good. Maybe shooting just wasn't their forte.

After a couple more shots on the redhead, there seemed to be a silent decision made. Four boys stood together, the redhead among them. Gazzy stood with the other two facing the redhead's group. He glanced over at me, nodding, and I took my new place next to him. "You'll be on my team," Gazzy directed. "Any questions?"

Another blond boy snickered, and Gazzy turned to him. "I've got a question, Gaz," he told him. "What's her name?"

Gazzy smiled, looking back at me. "Good question, Matt. What IS your name?"

"I'm Max."

"This will be confusing, then. He's also Max," Gazzy informed me, nodding at the redhead. I shrugged.

"You can call me Maximum, then. That's my full name."

"Really? Sweet," Gazzy commented. "My real name is Zephyr, but everybody calls me Gazzy."

"Please don't ask why," the other blond interjected before I could say a word. He shuddered as Gazzy smirked self-importantly. "It brings back bad memories."

"You ladies done gabbing?" The other Max called, walking over to us. "Can we start playing already?"

"You're on," I shot back before Gazzy could say anything. "Max versus Max. Excellent."

Max looked surprised. "Your name is Max?"

"Yeah, but my team is calling me Maximum so we won't get confused," I explained. Max nodded, smiling at this new development. "Shall we start?"

"Definitely."

"HIIII-YAAAAH!" Gazzy screeched, flying towards the ball. At the last second, he pulled his foot away and performed a nimble Maradona around Max, who ran to keep up with him. Gazzy shot off towards the goal, the other team complaining as they darted after him.

I had to hand it to these boys: they were fast, and they were good. It turned out that the boys who had missed their shots in the beginning were amazing defenders. Matt passed me the ball, and I dribbled carefully up the sideline. One of the boys ran at me, almost stealing the ball immediately. Mentally cursing, I Croifed around him, spinning to keep running towards the goal. Now I knew I couldn't manage getting past the other team by myself. Instead of trying to muscle my way past them, I called for backup. Gazzy had been running behind me diagonally as I made my way towards the other goal. Now I turned my head and made eye contact with him.

What happened next was really cool. The second I looked at Gazzy, I knew exactly what he was going to do, and what I would do. He moved further to the right of me as I barrelled up the left side of the field. As I expected, a defender came rushing at me. I feinted to the left, instead passing right to where Gazzy was waiting. He moved right, and I mirrored him, staying about ten feet apart from him as we traveled towards the other goal.

The defender ran towards Gazzy, and I dropped back slightly, maneuvering so he could pass again. Without so much as a glance in my direction, Gazzy sent the ball directly to my left foot, where I controlled it and continued on. We were in the goalbox now, tailed by the two defenders and a midfielder. Two were on Gazzy, while one tracked me, trying to get the ball away. Gazzy suddenly surged towards me, and I passed him the ball, falling back. He immediately passed it back to me, and I slammed my foot into the side of it, feeling the power of a good kick resonate in my leg.

The other Max sprinted back towards the goal from his position as a defender. He dove, trying to catch my shot before it went in, but failed. Instead, he slid into the net right alongside the ball, looking very surprised. I whooped loudly, running to slap high fives with Gazzy. He whooped back, grinning widely.

"That was wicked awesome, Maximum!" Gazzy yelled. I grinned back at him.

"I know! It was like a meeting of minds!" I agreed, still smiling as we jogged back to the other side of the half field we were playing on.

"You have to play on the school team this year! We would be unstoppable as forwards together!" Gazzy looked excited at the prospect. I frowned slightly.

"But there seem to be a few problems with that idea, my dear boy. For one, I am a girl, and you seem to be a boy" I pointed out. Gazzy stared blankly at me.

"So?"

"So we won't play on the same team!"

"Yeah we would," Gazzy argued, ruffling his hair again. "Here, there's just one team for guys and girls."

"Really?" I asked, surprised. I hadn't heard this before.

"Really," Gazzy confirmed. "Then what's another problem for me to solve, oh Maximum?"

"Well, I don't play forward," I confessed. Gazzy's blue eyes widened, and his jaw dropped dramatically.

"You can do moves like that, and you don't play forward?" he practically screamed. "That is a waste of talent!"

"I'm a midfield and a sweeper, and it's not my fault!" I protested. "I like those positions better."

"Well, if you make the school team, which you probably will, then you'll have to play forward sometimes," Gazzy ordered. I smiled wryly at him.
"What makes you think I'll make the team?"

"You have to suck really badly to not get on," Gazzy explained, still smiling brightly. "Practically everyone who tries out makes the team, but who gets to play in games depends on skillage."

"Oh, I see." I fell silent for a moment, thinking this over. Maybe it would be fun, to play forward with Gazzy. He seemed like a nice guy, and had already proved he was an amazing soccer player. In my opinion, this was the perfect recipe for a good friend. "So, do you guys play soccer every day?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Nah, we'd probably kill ourselves if we did," Gazzy replied. "Max especially gets very competitive."

"Sounds like me."

"Perfect. Now we have a pair of Maxes. Just what I need!" Matt groaned from behind us. I whirled around and mock-glared at him.

"We can call you Max I and Max II!" another boy, Lucas, I think, added cheerfully.

"I call Max I!" I yelled swiftly. The other Max pouted, kicking the soccer ball up towards my head. I immediately headed the ball back towards him.

"I wanna be Max I!" Max argued. I shook my head.

"Nope. I called it already. You're now officially Max II," I teased. Max II, as he will know be known as, pouted again. Suddenly, the lunch bell rang, and we all looked at each other frantically.

"Break!" Gazzy yelled, sprinting towards the classrooms. I grinned, following him towards the edge of the field.

"Bye Max II!" I called behind me. He responded with a loud, rude word, and my grin grew. My feet pounded the ground quickly, and I leapt from grass to asphalt as the terrain changed from soccer field into hallways. Gazzy disappeared into the throng of people with a quick smile, and I was left alone to locate both my binder and my next class.

Oh, bother.

I fell into the seat beside Fang with a crash of binder and paper and sweaty teenage girl. It was the only seat left as I had stumbled into Art class, surprisingly not tardy, and I hadn't cared enough about my outburst at lunch to chance the teacher's wrath. There were several girls in the room who were glaring daggers at me. I had no doubt that they utterly wished to kill me and take my seat next to Fang. I had to admit, he was sort of cute.

I hadn't had time to fix my bedraggled ponytail, and now I was wishing I had. Fang was staring at me strangely, like he was analyzing me or something. "What?" I asked, shuffling my papers around. Fang shook his hand, taking his dark gaze away from my face at last. That was a relief. He was beginning to make me on edge.

"You have a powerful foot," Fang commented suddenly, in a very quiet tone of voice. "I saw you playing with Gaz and the others."

"You're friends with Gazzy?" I asked, slightly surprised. Fang nodded, his face a calm mask.

"He's a cool guy."

"Yeah. And talk about talent," I added. "That boy could wipe the field with me."

"I find myself doubting that," Fang mused, seemingly to himself. I frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded. Fang half-smiled, and I SWEAR I heard girls behind us sigh dreamily.

They all needed to get a life.

"THAT is supposed to mean that I think you're a pretty good player, Ride," Fang teased, his voice lilting as he spoke. I snorted.

"Thanks, I guess, but in my opinion, Gazzy is in a totally different league from me." I decided to fix my ponytail now, since the art teacher was taking an unusually long time to start class. I turned to face the walkway between desks, and bent over. Once I had pulled the grip from my hair, I shook it out, reveling in the sweet shampoo scent the damp tendrils emitted. I swung my hair back and forth a couple times, before sitting up quickly, and gathering my hair together. Fang watched quietly as I tied the hairband around my unruly locks. He was a very patient boy. However, when I had pulled the grip tight, he spoke again, his dark eyes on mine.

"Are you going to try out for the soccer team?" Fang asked, his voice soft and even. I smiled at the continuation of conversation. After all, soccer was the best thing in the world to talk about, and Terra had said Fang didn't talk much. He seemed to be talkative enough, in my opinion.

"Oh, that's a definite yes," I said instantly. Fang smiled slightly, and I unconsciously grinned back. Despite his all-black apparel and quiet demeanor, Fang was a very charismatic guy.

"That's great, 'cause I am too. It'll be nice to have another good player on the team," Fang replied, actually seeming sincere. My smile grew.
"So when are try outs?" I asked, quickly looking down at my binder again.

"Next week."

"That soon?"

"Yep."

Scratch that thought about him being talkative. "So this is what Terra meant by one-to-three word sentences," I mused aloud. Fang smirked, but said nothing. We fell into a comfortable silence as I thought about the soccer try outs. It would be nice to be able to play on a team again so soon, but I was still kind of rusty from disuse. I had demonstrated my new lack of controlled shots at lunch, and knew I needed to work on that.

Finally, the art teacher came out, looking slightly flustered.

"I'm so sorry for the delay, class," she apologized, fixing her hair into a ponytail. "I had a little trouble with something. Let's begin now."

I smiled, happy that she had forgotten about the new student in her class. I didn't particularly like my presence being announced every hour. It would be nice to blend into this class. Fang passed me a stack of white drawing paper, and I took one before passing it to the girl at my left. "Today we are going to have a free-drawing period, as a reward for all those nice art history essays you worked so hard on," the teacher continued, still oblivious to my new-student-ness. "Good job! I had a nice time reading them, and you'll be getting your papers back soon. Go ahead now, and have fun drawing. More paper is available on my desk. Try to keep the talking to a minimum, though, please."

With that, she disappeared into a large closet which I assumed held the art materials. Fang had immediately began to draw once he received his paper, and was bent over it earnestly. "So you're Fang's friend?" A girl behind me asked. I turned around to face her, confused.

"Umm, yeah, I guess," I replied. "Why do you ask?"

"He said he was saving your seat for a friend," the girl said nonchalantly. "I was just wondering. My name is Amy."

"I'm Max," I told her, my mind working with this new information. Fang had saved me a seat, even after my angry kerfluffle at lunch? And how had he even known I had this class?

I mentally facepalmed. I had given him my schedule this morning, that's how. He must have looked over all my classes while he had it. Amy had started to draw again, so I turned back around and stared at my paper. I glanced at Fang out of the corner of my eye. He had a slight smile on his face as he sketched small, quick lines onto his paper. I smiled at this, then turned to my paper. Without quite knowing why, I sketched the curves of a face onto my paper, taking up the whole thing. My smile widened as I added in long lines of hair, and darkened the jaw line.
Time flew past as I worked on the picture, erasing and redrawing. For some reason, I wanted this simple sketch to be perfect. I was so focused in on the small lines shading in the curve of the nose that I didn't hear the voice talking to me at first.

"Max."

I kept drawing in bliss, coloring in the intricate pattern of the iris.

"Max."

Wondering slightly at the annoying buzzing in my ear, I continued shading in the eye.

"Max!"

"WHAT?" I snapped, bolting upright in my seat. Everyone in the class turned to look at me, and I shrank back into my seat. Glaring at Fang, I repeated my question, quietly this time. "What?"

"I was wondering when you would hear me," Fang replied, grinning swiftly at me. I was shocked out of my post-drawing daze by the sudden appearance and disappearance of the bright smile.

"That doesn't answer my question," I shot back, somewhat testily. "What did you need?"

Fang's expression became calm and emotionless once more, although I could detect a hint of laughter far back in his dark eyes. "I wanted to see your drawing."

I could feel the blush creep up from the deepest confines of my soul, slowly working its stubborn way up into my cheeks. I never blushed. Ever. So why was I blushing now?

Ehehehe...

"Can I see it?" Fang asked again, softer this time. "I don't have to, if you don't want me to."

"Oh no, that's okay," I rushed to assure him. "Here." I thrust the paper at him, busying myself with sharpening the now nonexistent point of my pencil. I snuck a few peeks at Fang, wanting to see his reaction to my drawing. The reason I was blushing...

Well, I had kinda drawn Fang.

The picture was the side-view I had seen as I looked over at him before my pencil hit paper. The sun had been shining softly on his black hair, making it glow slightly. The eye I could see had been half closed, and partly covered in the long strands of hair blanketing his forehead. I had noted the two freckles he possessed on his cheek and jaw, and the firm line of his chin. Fang's mouth was slightly open as he gazed downwards, the concentration evident on his face. He had been working pretty hard on his drawing.

The attention to detail I had put into the picture was completely obvious, from the seperate, curving lines in his eyelashes to the shading of his skin tone. The drawing was nowhere near perfect, but it pleased me. Apparently, Fang liked it too, because a brighter smile than I had ever seen him show was gracing his face. Impulsively, I wished I could capture that smile in a drawing. It was a very nice smile. Fang was practically glowing.

"This is beautiful, Max," he murmured, his eyes still on my drawing. "I'm honored to be your subject."

My inconceivable blush grew, and a smile creeped onto my face.

"Thanks," I muttered back, overwhelmed by the sincerity of his words. "That means a lot to me."

Fang suddenly looked up from my picture, the bright smile lessened considerably, but still there. "Do you want to see mine?" he offered. I nodded, curious to see Fang's artistic talents.

The first page he had was filled with doodles; crossed swords, game controllers, an intricate set of stars, and a group of mini caricatures arguing with one another. I grinned as I recognized Nudge, Iggy, and Terra among the squabbling bunch. Fang had apparently gotten up from his desk without me noticing, because he had two other pages along with the first. The next paper I looked at was a sunset over an ocean wave. The wave carried two dolphins, and underneath them were other sea creatures. This picture was less doodle-y, and more professional. The last page depicted...

Me.

My breath caught slightly as I viewed this final picture. It was another more professional-looking drawing, more realistic than his argumentive caricatures. I was playing soccer, poised to take a shot. Balanced on my right foot as my left was pulled back to kick, I looked utterly professional. My arms were outstretched for balance, the fingers on each hand carefully drawn in seperately. The messy ponytail I had fixed was blowing behind me, strands flying around my face and in the air. There was a focused look on my face as I stared at the ball at my feet, my eyes serious. The clothes I had on in the picture were the same ones I was wearing, from my double tank tops to the CareBear-in-pants-form skinny jeans. The picture was totally realistic, and I was impressed. Very impressed. "Wow, Fang," I breathed, my eyes still scanning the drawing. "This is way better than mine."

"You just like it better because it's of you," Fang teased. I waved a hand at him impatiently, finally looking up from his drawing.

"Well, maybe," I teased. Then I paused, reverting back to being serious. "It's still amazing," I insisted, handing him the paper.

"I saw you score on Max." Fang looked at me, no expression visible. "That was a nice shot. It was where I got my idea for your picture."

"Thanks," I replied softly, suddenly bashful. Abruptly, the bell rang, and I was startled out of my thoughts. Tucking the drawing of Fang into my binder, I walked out of the classroom. Fang went down the same hallway as me, and I followed him all the way to my locker. He stopped walking when he saw me, looking perplexed.

"Did you need something?" Fang asked, leaning against my locker. I pushed him gently aside, grinning.

"Yeah, my locker," I replied, starting to turn the dial. "What did you need?"

"My locker," he shot back. "I'm right here." Fang gestured at one of the other lockers in the alcove.

"Okay then."

"Yes. Okay."

"I've got it."

"You better got it."

"Nice grammar."

"Thanks."

"Where'd you get it? Walmart?"

"No, the Dollar Store. Get it right."

I started to smile; this argument was ridiculous. Oddly, I felt comfortable with Fang, to be talking like this. Even though I had just met him, it seemed like I'd known him forever. Fang seemed to think so too, because there was a small smile on his face as he swiftly opened his locker and began shoveling books into his bag. It took me a little longer to unlock mine, this being the third time I had ever opened it. Fang was done by the time I had taken my backpack out. He straightened, swinging his black backpack onto his back, and looking at me. I pretended not to notice as I began putting my binders into my backpack. "So..." Fang trailed off. I looked up at him, grinning slightly. "Bye."

"Bye," I replied, watching him walk away. Once his dark form had disappeared into the crowd of highschoolers, I finished packing my bag. I shut the locker door and turned around, only to find my dear friend Lissa in my face.

"I told you to stay away from Fang," she growled, looking angry. "He is mine."

"Uh, no he's not," I retorted, hefting my bag onto my back. "Why don't you get lost, Lissa dearest? I'm not going to avoid Fang just to please you."

"I don't need to leave. My locker is right here," Lissa spat, pushing me aside to get to the locker next to mine in the alcove. I mentally groaned, walking away from her. That was the perfect end to my day; a possessive bitch who reminded me far too much of Brigid having the locker next to mine. Just. Peachy.

As I walked out the wide double doors of the school, I was attacked by a wild Ella. "MAX!" she shrieked, tackling me. I managed to stay on my feet, but still bent over with her weight. I didn't mind, though. Ella was just enthusiastic.

"Ells! How was your first day here?" I asked, smiling as I deposited her back on her own feet. She bounced up and down with excitement, her backpack thumping against her back.

"OMG it was amazing! I love it here already! The bad thing is that I don't have any classes with you, but that's okay. I met this really cool girl named Nudge, and she's awesome!" Ella gushed, skipping after me as I started to walk home.

"Yeah, I know Nudge," I told her. "I sat with her at lunch today."

"Isn't she sooo cool? I love her!" Ella exclaimed, a big grin on her face. I smiled back.

"Yeah, Nudge is pretty awesome," I agreed. "Who else did you meet?"

"Oh, I met a lot of people, but I want to know about your day!" Ella insisted, diligently checking both ways before we crossed a street. As we hit the sidewalk on the other side, I began to tell her about Fang, Iggy, Gazzy, and Terra.

"Soccer try outs are next week?" Ella asked, looking excited. I nodded. "Yes! I can't wait!"

"Gazzy is a soccer prodigy," I told her. "He's got a perfect shot every time he kicks the ball."

"That's pretty cool. Will I get to meet him?"

"Sure. You'll probably see him at the try outs, anyway." We walked up the path to our new house, and I fished around in my backpack for my key. Before I could find it, however, the door swung open. Mom was standing there, beaming as she looked at us.

"Hi girls! How was your day?" she greeted us. Ella zoomed into the house, chattering happily about classes and girls she had met. Mom smiled, following her into the kitchen. I dropped my backpack by the door, sighing as I started up the staircase. At least now I could relax. The homework load was nothing I couldn't handle, and I wanted some time to think.

As soon as I entered my room, I shed the tight, CareBear-in-disguise jeans, and slid into a pair of soccer shorts. I sat down on my new bed, ready to relax, but Ella had ran into my room. "Max!" she sang. "Guess what?"

"What?" I asked dully, burying my face in my pillow.

"The Rianilds invited us over for dinner! Come into my room so I can get you ready!" Ella looked at my change in pants distastefully. "If you don't want to wear the jeans, I can always find you a skirt," she threatened. Immediately, I jumped up and grabbed the jeans off the floor.
"I'll wear them, I'll wear them! Jeez," I grumbled. Ella smiled, satisfied. She walked out of my room, and I exhaled loudly. At least she hadn't ragged on me about my makeup-less face; the eyeshadow she had applied in the morning had been sweated off during the scrimmage at lunch. I hadn't bothered to 'reapply', preferring her wrath to the possibility of seeing Lissa in the bathrooms.

"And don't think you've gotten away with not redoing your makeup today!" Ella called from the hallway.

Well, crap. I sighed as I slung the CareBear jeans over my shoulder and exited my room. Something else tugged at my mind as I made my way to my sister's room; Ella had said the Rianilds invited us for dinner.

Now where had I heard that name before?

Hi people! This is a true MEGA CHAPTER, but I just didn't want to stop writing. XD I love this story. Do you love it? If you do... REVIEW!
Gazzy: THAT RHYMED!
Angel: Nice, TMI.
Ooh, I am skilled. Unintentional rhyming! Do I get extra points for that?

Review please! =D

~TMI~