School Days

by TMI

Typical All-human story, with the flock meeting at school yada yada yada.. I just felt like writing one of these, so please give it a try! Max and Ella move to California and Cromwell High. They're instantly thrown into the swirl of new friends, new romance, and most importantly, soccer! But is everything really as normal as it may seem? Fax, Eggy, Gudge. Soccer and pizza involved.

6. Oh YEAH THAT Rianild

This will be kind of a long AN. YOU GUYS ARE SO LUCKY THAT I AM A VERY INSPIRED WRITER AND A VERY PROCRASTINATING STUDENT! I write so freaking much of this story that you get fairly frequent and really long chapters! I sacrifice schoolwork and soccer practice for this. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY! XD BTW THIS CHAPTER WAS SIXTEEN PAGES LONG ON WORD! SIXTEEN! You better be freaking happy. XD XD XD

MY OH SO BELOVED Reviewers: The Seagull (you better get that spine checked out... XD thanks SiSi!), Bookworm2011, DaughterofWolf (thank you so much. It's nice to know I have reviewers like you! =D), Bebeba, VivaLaKatee (yeppers! Fang is my little Rianild. Poor Max has an awful memory... XD), Fly On Maximum Taylor Ride (thank you so much! It WAS a really long chapter, wasn't it? XD), padfootlover109 (150 points? I feel special. Thanks for yet another great review! Do you have an account here? Cause I'd really like to talk to you.), LilacRose6 (yeppers, IGGERS! the nickname is spreading like the plague! I am pleased to meet you, Na. Thanks for the review everyone!), Wize Gurl1 Percy iz hot (I'm honored to know you might start reading MRFF because of my story! Thank you so much!), Elise the Amazing (Biggy... XD), Bama-born-and-raised (go soccer!)

There's a tiny thing in here that I'm hoping The Seagull will catch. No one else will, except maybe Dark Skitty Power. (Check Max's middle name!)
Enjoy. =)

Rianild... Where had I heard that name before? It itched at my mind like an... like an itch, I guess. I never was a very descriptive person.

"MAX! Come ON already!" Ella yelled. I groaned loudly, slowly marching into her room. She scowled at me from her dressing table. "Jeez, Max. I'm trying to be nice!"

"By yelling at me and forcing me into outfits I don't like?" I asked incredulously, plopping into the mini stool by the table. Ella shook her head vigorously.

"Oh no, it's not like that! You see, I'm just-"

"Helping me bring out my 'natural' beauty," I finished, putting air quotes around 'natural.' Ella crossed her arms, pouting at me playfully.

"Well, great minds think alike," she sighed. I grinned back at her, throwing my hands up dramatically.

"And then, there's ours!" I cried out, twirling around on the stool. "Hey, this stool is fun to spin around on, Ells." I continued to spin, tucking my legs under the edge and twirling quickly around in circles.

"Stop that, Max," Ella ordered, digging through the dreaded makeup bag once more. "You're going to murder my stool."

"You're going to murder my face," I retorted. Ella snorted in a very unladylike fashion.

"No, I'm saving it from you. You don't even wash your face every night! Heck to that, you NEVER wash your face!" Ella exclaimed, looking unreasonably irritated.

"But I don't get acne or anything," I pointed out. "So why should I? I have naturally exfoliated skin!"

Ella facepalmed, causing me to smirk. "Don't remind me," she groaned. "It's just not fair." Ella was still digging around in her makeup bag, so I took the opportunity to glance around her new room. The beanbags she had bought yesterday were piled in one corner, at the vertex of the two unpainted walls. The two walls she and Mom had managed to finish were painted with swirly patterns of glitter over Passion Sunrise and Mellow Notes, a pink-ish color and a peachy one. Her purple sleeping bag lay on top of a bare mattress in the middle of
the room, and clothes were already neatly hung in her closet. I shook my head in wonder; Ella was already half-moved in. I was still three-quarters packed.

Whoops.

Aw, to heck with it. Ella was always more orderly than me. I was fine with having my clothes packed in boxes, but it had probably irked her the entire trip from Nevada that her shirts were getting wrinkled. As if to prove my point, Ella took a moment to peek into her closet, frowning at the shirts hung neatly on the rack. MY shirts were still packed in one of the many boxes I hadn't bothered to label. I fought back another smirk, knowing she wouldn't take kindly to it.

I was pulled from my thoughts about Ella's and my differences by Ella herself. She had drawn herself up to her full height, about five foot five, and was glaring at me mightily. "Maximum Ride, where is my eyeshadow that I lent you?" Ella demanded, looking fiercer than I had ever seen her before. She was dang possessive over her makeup.

I tried to think of where I had left her eyeshadow, but kept getting distracted by the name floating around in my mind. Rianild, Rianild, my mind sang. Shut up, shut up, I'm kinda trying to think, I sang back, irritated.

Oh great. Now I'm having voices in my head. Perfect.

Ella had been staring at me the entire time I had been zoning out, and she finally got impatient. She turned on her heel and exited her room. I jumped off the spinning stool and followed her as she headed downstairs to where I had dumped my backpack. "Did you leave it in your jacket pocket?" she asked, kneeling down and rifling through my backpack. I shook my head, watching her pull books and papers from my bag. "Is it in one of your binders?" I shrugged, again choosing not to verbally respond. Oh dear Lord. Fang was rubbing off on me. As Terra would say, the Apocalypse is NIGH!

Ells once more pulled me from my strange, apocalyptic thoughts. "Is it in here?" She held up my art and history binder in one hand. I shrugged again, honestly having no idea where I'd put her eyeshadow. I misplaced things easily. Ella opened my binder, first unzipping the pencil pouch clipped inside. The eyeshadow wasn't inside, so she began thumbing through the papers to see if the makeup compact was somehow lodged inside. Suddenly, she stopped flipping papers, her attention caught by one particular page. "Oh Maxi dearest," she sang, her voice sugary sweet. My heart sank. Ella only used that voice when she had found something particularly nasty to tease me about. What could she have found in my binder that made her use that dreaded tone of voice?

My question was answered when Ella plucked a paper from a pocket, waving it around triumphantly. "Who is THIS hottie? And why did you draw him?"

"What are you talking about, Ells?" I asked, honestly confused for a second. "I didn't draw any hot-" I stopped, my heart sinking further.

Of course Ella had to find my drawing of Fang. Of course. She was smirking triumphantly as she studied the picture. I lunged for it, but Ella had anticipated that. She nimbly twirled to the side, racing up the stairs. "Max's got a crush on a hottie! Max's got a crush on a hottie!" Her voice rang merrily off the walls, and I felt that awful blush creep out of my soul again. I swore loudly as I ran to catch up with my devil of a sister.

"Maximum Ride! Watch your language!" Mom scolded from the kitchen. I rolled my eyes and quickened my pace.

"Sorry Mom! Gotta go kill Ells!" I called back, hearing the sister in mention giggle from in front of me. I scowled, speeding up even more. "Get back here with my artwork, you idiot!"

Ella snickered, pulling a quick turn in front of me. I skidded on the carpet, cursing again.

Luckily for me, Mom didn't hear the second time.

I almost slammed into the wall as I turned the corner, but managed to twist my body around in time. I just nicked the wall with my left instep, and swore AGAIN. "ELLA MARTINEZ! GET! FREAKING! BACK! HERE!"

"Why'd you draw the hot guy? Scratch that, who even IS the hot guy?" Ella asked over her shoulder, not slowing down.

"That's my friend!" I protested. "Just my friend!"

"That only adds to his hotness," Ella sang.

I wrinkled my nose at her. "That is nasty," I announced.

"No, it's zesty."

"ELLA!"

Ella laughed at the horrified expression gracing my face. She looked back down at the drawing, a mischievous smile on her lips. There was something else that Ella wasn't letting on, I was sure. I just wished I knew what it was she was hiding. Suddenly, though, the crooked grin on her face morphed into a respectful look. "Jeez Max, you're too talented. This drawing is amazing! It's like you captured the guy in a photo, except, in pencil!" Ella gushed. I grinned modestly, not wanting to agree, but not wanting to argue either. I liked drawing, and this was definitely the best I had ever done. Fangles was a good subject. He had barely changed expression at all as he drew, leaving me with a practically still inspiration. I felt like patting him on the head and handing him a treat.

"Thanks, Ells. I worked really hard on this picture," I admitted, taking the paper back. It was a little wrinkled now from its adventure through the halls, but nothing was ruined.

"I can tell," Ella replied frankly. She looked exasperated all of a sudden, though, glaring at me. "But I still can't find my eyeshadow!"

I had to use all my strength to hold back a snicker. Ella still noticed, though, with her creepy twin powers. She shoved me. "Stop laughing! This is serious!"
"ELLA MARTINEZ!" Mom called from downstairs, sounding

irritated. Immediately, both of us sprang up and ran for the staircase. I carefully set the drawing of Fang down in the doorway to my room before following Ella. I slid down the banister, while Ella rolled her eyes and chose to run down the actual stairs. "Ella!" Mom repeated.

"Yeah Mom?" Ella answered, rushing into the kitchen. "What did you need?"
Mom held up a small green object in one hand, leaning against the kitchen counter. There was an exasperated expression on her face. "What did I always tell you about leaving your makeup lying around the house?"

Ella instantly turned around and glared at me. I smiled wickedly back at her, having realized what the object Mom was holding actually was. "Bad Ells," I scolded, trying to hold back yet another rogue snicker. "How dare you leave your makeup lying around!"

"Yes, Ella. Don't leave your eyeshadow on my counter," Mom continued unaware of the evil expression on my face. "I'm going to keep this for a week as a reminder."

"But Max was the one who left it there!" Ella complained. I swiftly wiped all traces of a smirk off my face, adopting an innocent expression. Mom didn't even turn around to inspect my face for guilt. Instead, she laughed.

"You expect me to believe that Maximum Riesra Ride used your makeup and left it on the kitchen counter?" Mom asked plainly. "As if."

Ella glared at me helplessly, and I flashed her a smile. Finally, she just turned and stormed back out of the kitchen. I skipped lightly after her, unperturbed by her moody reaction. "Thanks, Max," Ella grumbled, running up the staircase. "You made me lose my eyeshadow!"

I followed her, nimbly dodging the foot she stuck out to trip me at the top of the stairs. "Relax, Ells. It's not like that's your only eyeshadow."

"But it's my favorite one!" she insisted, turning to enter her room. I lolled against the doorway, watching her dig around in the closet.

"Oh, just deal with it," I replied lazily, absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair between my fingers. Ella emerged from her closet, looking evilly triumphant.

"Oh, I'll deal with it fine. Especially since you're going to wear a skirt to the Rianilds' house," Ella retorted, tossing a small bundle of black cloth at me. I blanched before instinctively catching the bundle. Ella smirked as she watched me shake out the folds, her evil expression growing more and more evil as she observed the horror on my face.

"Ella!" I whined. "This won't even cover to mid-thigh!"

"You've worn shorter soccer shorts before, haven't you? Just deal with it." Ella was right, I HAD worn shorter soccer shorts before, but those were soccer shorts! That's a completely different area which I am within my comfort zone wearing. Mom always joked that I was born in soccer shorts.

"Don't do that!" I snapped at Ella.

"Do what?" she asked innocently, knowing perfectly well what I meant.

"Don't use what I say against me," I clarified, gnashing my teeth. Ella's smirk widened even more.

"It's a free country. And this is payback! You got my eyeshadow taken away, you have to wear a skirt for a few hours," Ella reasoned. I scowled at her, not moving from where I stood.

"I'm not wearing a skirt," I ground out.

"Yes you are," Ella shot back.

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"There's no way in hell I'm wearing a skirt."

"Well there must be a way in heaven, 'cause you're about to put one on," she retorted swiftly.

I had to crack a smile at Ella's response. "That was a good comeback," I admitted.

Ella smiled sweetly. "Thank you."

"But there's still no way I'm wearing a skirt," I added.

"Max!"

"Ella!" I mimicked. Ella frowned at me.

"Max, if you wear this skirt, I swear I'll never steal from your supposedly secret chocolate stash again," Ella told me solemnly. I gasped.

"You were the one that took my chocolate? I blamed Rachel for that!" I narrowed my eyes. "You owe me at least one super-sized Twix bar, missy!"

"Fine," Ella agreed. "But you have to wear this skirt."

I looked back at the skirt. It wasn't horribly awful, made of a plain, silky material. BUT, it was also short and black and swishy; definitely not my type. However, I would get my chocolate back if I wore it for just a few hours...

"Fine," I relented. Ella squealed happily, jumping up and down.

"Thank you Max! I won't even make you wear makeup now! Let me just go find you a skirt and some shoes, and you'll be ready to go!" Ella bounced back towards her closet, looking unreasonably excited. I sighed, slinging the skirt over my shoulder. At least now I wouldn't have to wear the CareBear-in-disguise jeans. I would have to find a way to burn those.

Forty minutes later saw me dressed up and ready to go. I stood in front of Ella's full-length mirror. Ella was standing behind me, a wide grin on her face. "Well?" she demanded at last. "Whaddya think?"

I gazed wordlessly at my reflection. No, I was not having a teenage-girlish-girly-barf-worthy-epiphany about how I was so beautiful and would wear short frilly skirts for the rest of my life. I'm not starring in one of those makeover tv shows, I'm Maximum Ride. In fact, I felt oddly exposed in the outfit Ella had chosen for me. In my opinion, I was too dressed up for dinner at a new neighbor's house. The clingy, swirly black skirt Ella had bribed me into wearing was tight on my hips, and fell lightly down my legs. I had been right; the hem of the skirt was a good inch above mid-thigh. My only comfort was the fact that my somewhat-considerate sister had allowed me to wear black bike shorts underneath, so I wasn't in danger of flashing anyone.

Ella had paired the skirt with an open, dark green button-up shirt and a lacy black tank top. The green button-up was short-sleeved and plain, left open on the top four or five buttons to expose the black tank top underneath. My hair had been wrangled into a sleek French braid, and tied with a dark green band.

"Well?" Ella prompted again. I took a deep breath, and looked back at her.

"Thanks, I guess," I replied softly. She immediately came over and put her arms around my shoulders. Smiling, I hugged her back. My sister could be a pain, but I wouldn't trade her for anything.

Most of the time.

"Will you permit me to pick out high heeled shoes for you?" Ella asked timidly, her voice muffled against my shoulder. I shrugged, releasing my grip on her.

"Go ahead. I don't really care anymore," I admitted. Ella's eyes lit up, and she smiled at me as I exited her room.

"Hey Max?" she called as I stepped into the hallway. I turned around to look back at her.

"Thanks for letting me dress you up."

"You're welcome, Ells," I replied. "Just don't get used to this. I have my own free will of dressing too."

Ella sighed. "I know," she groaned resignedly. I laughed, before making my way back to my new room. Plopping heavily down on the bare mattress, I gazed in the mirror across from me. An almost unfamiliar girl stared evenly back. I had to admit, she was kinda pretty. But was she me?

I flopped backwards, staring up at the ceiling. I didn't have time to think deep, philosophical questions. I had homework to do. Realizing this, I dragged myself off my bed and back downstairs to get my backpack. Even though teachers loved introducing the new girl to the rest of the students and babying them around during class, they still gave me a heck of a lot of homework. I sighed, cracking a binder open and getting to work. It would probably take Ella about fifteen more minutes to get ready, so I had enough time to get started on my algebra. Then, we would be off to the Rianilds.

Thinking about my outfit, I hoped dearly that the son Mom had mentioned yesterday didn't go to my school. I hoped he wouldn't know me, and wouldn't try to talk to me too much. I hoped he wouldn't try to compliment my outfit.

Scratch that. I just hoped I would be able to kick his butt if he bothered me. Smiling at this thought, I immersed myself in the wonders of variables.

O.o.O.o:O:o.O.o.O

"Max! We're ready to go now!" Mom called from the kitchen. I shut my algebra book and stuffed it back in my backpack before following the sound of her voice. Ella stood with Mom, and they were both slightly dressed up, just like me. Mom wore a red and pink floral blouse with tailored black pants and heeled silver sandals. There was a hint of green eyeshadow and mascara on her face, but they accented her warm brown eyes nicely.

My sister looked as pretty as always. She wore a green skirt that was identical to the one I had on, except that it fell farther down on Ella, since I had longer legs than her. Paired with the skirt was a white and silver blouse with a sheer, filmy green scarf over it. On her feet were white high heels that made her tall enough that I was finally able to look her in the eye flat-footed. I never understood why Ella liked to play with fate and chance a sprained ankle in her high heels. She claimed she liked tall guys, and most tall guys didn't want girls they had to bend down to look in the eye with. I rolled my eyes at the thought. If a guy didn't like her height, he didn't deserve her. End of discussion.

"Here, Max," Ella said, handing me a pair of black sandals with two-inch wedge heels. I stared blankly at them, and Ella sighed. "Remember? You said I could pick out your shoes for you?"

"Oh yeah," I replied, recalling the scene. "I'm an idiot." Ella scowled, shoving the shoes at me.

"Just put them on," she ordered. "We have to leave soon."

"When?" I asked, kneeling to slip the sandals on. They were surprisingly comfortable, but I guess Ella had figured that I simply wouldn't wear uncomfortable shoes.

"They invited us to come at 6:30, and it's 6:25 right now," Mom informed me. "We can walk over in a minute and be a little early."

"Which house do these Rianilds even live in?" I tightened the strap on one of the sandals and straightened, tossing my hair over my shoulder.

"It's really close by," Mom assured me. "Just a couple minutes' walk away from us."

"I'm ready," I announced, heading for the door. Mom and Ella followed behind, grabbing their purses as they did so. I left my cell phone and iPod in Ella's purse. I wasn't a bag carrier, and if this Nick kid turned out to be boring, I would need a diversion. Ella raised her eyebrows at me as I slipped the earbuda into her bag. I shrugged back, speeding up to walk with Mom.

She had been right. The Rianilds' house was only about a minute and a half away. We stood outside for a minute, admiring the property. The actual house was medium-sized, and painted pale blue with brown trim. A nicely trimmed lawn was the only landscaping, perfect for playing soccer on. There were no flowers in danger of trampling and no glass ornaments in danger of breaking. Just smooth grass to kick a ball around on. I envied this Nick. He had such a perfect area to play soccer.

If he played soccer, of course. Maybe Nick didn't like sports. Of course, if he did, we would have nothing to say to each other.

Mom walked up the path in the middle of the grass (which would, by the way, be a great midline) and stepped up onto the wooden patio. A couple wrought metal chairs and a small table stood to the left of the white door. Ella burst ahead of me to press the doorbell first, and I scowled at her. Childish it might be, but we always fought over who got to press doorbells. There was just something exciting about it!

The door swung open, revealing a small girl with long, dark brown ringlets and bright hazel eyes. She looked to be about six or seven, and was dressed in very bright clothing. Her neon pink shirt, yellow skirt, and striped leggings somehow didn't clash, and she looked completely adorable. The cute picture was completed by the tiny caramel-colored chihuahua in her arms. It watched us intently through bright black eyes, perched regally in the girl's grip.

"Hello, are you Maria?" Mom asked gently. The girl nodded, looking at her silently. "I'm Dr Martinez. Your mommy invited my daughters and I for dinner tonight. May we come in?"

The little girl nodded again, stepping back so we could enter. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the lighting, and I spent a moment looking around. The entry hall was very simple and pretty, hung with pictures of nature close-ups. A hallway led off to the left, while a long carpeted staircase rose to our right. Ella and Mom put their purses down on a small glass table, gazing around. The little girl, whose name was apparently Maria, stood quietly to the side, waiting for us to say something else. Mom looked over at her again, a gentle smile on her face. "Maria, can you take us to your parents please?"

Maria nodded, skipping off down a hallway to the left. Mom walked quickly after her, and Ella and I were about to follow when-

"Max?" a familiar voice asked. I turned around to see Fang lolling against the banister at the top of the staircase. He was wearing dressier clothes than the ones he had worn at school, black pants and a short-sleeved black button-up. I shook my head to clear it of thoughts on Fang's clothing, going back to the immediate problem. What was he doing in the Rianilds' house?

"Fang?" I returned, confused.

"What are you doing here?" Fang questioned, descending from the stairs to stand on the bottom step. I frowned back at him.

"What are YOU doing here?" I countered. He smirked.

"I live here," Fang replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. My mouth gaped open.

Nick Rianild. FANG Rianild.

So that's where I had heard that name before...

"What?" I sputtered, my mind working faster than my mouth.

"It's the hot guy!" Ella squealed. Fang and I turned to stare at her. She shrank back slightly, bashful. "Umm, I mean... Uhhh..." she stuttered. Fang smirked, and I whacked him in the arm. He promptly whacked me back. I pouted.

"Fangles hits girls!" I whined loudly, rubbing my arm and pretending to wince. Fang whacked me again.

"Don't call me Fangles," he ordered, looking peeved. Naturally, I proceeded to call him that again. And again. And again.

"Awww, Fangles doesn't like his name?" I teased, shoving him into the staircase. Fang scowled, pushing me back. Ella watched amusedly as we fought, twirling a finger through her hair. There was a contemplating look on her face as she watched us tussle good-naturedly, like she was trying to piece something together in her mind. I tried to ignore the weird expression she was sporting. Instead, I introduced her to the very gentlemanly boy (HA, yeah right) Fang. "Fangles, this is my sister Ella."

"Hi," Ella told him, smiling shyly. She seemed to have recovered from her initial embarrassing outburst. Fang nodded towards her, the barest hint of a smile visible on his face.

"Max mentioned you in homeroom," Fang commented, his voice deep and even. Ella's smile widened, and she looked towards me.

"Really? Because I mentioned her in homeroom too," Ella replied casually. "We tend to be on-"

"-the same wavelength," I finished, grinning at her. "You know, it must be a-"
"-weird sister thing!" Ella squealed, starting to laugh. "Great minds think alike," she added, beginning the tradition.

"And then, there's ours," I replied. Fang looked amused by our exchange, and his previous hint of a smile had grown infinitesimally. I grinned at him and Ella.

"Dinner's ready," Fang offered. "I think my mom is putting it on the table right now."

"That's good, 'cause I'm starving," I told him emphatically. As if it was agreeing, my stomach rumbled. Ella giggled, and Fang simply shook his head. I shoved him again, and he shoulder bumped me back.

"This way," Fang directed, leading us down a short hallway. We ended in a spacious room holding a long wooden dining table and several matching chairs. A glass curio cabinet stood against one wall, holding stacks of delicate red and white china. The walls were painted a pastel yellow, and one had a pair of sliding glass doors set into them. All in all, the room was very elegant.

However, the most attractive thing was the food steaming on the table. Fang smirked as he noticed where my attention lay. "We can start eating when our parents get here," he informed me, pulling out a chair. Fang gestured to Ella, and she blushed slightly as she sat down in the offered chair. Pulling out another one next to her, Fang looked up and actually smiled at me. I stared at him. This was a very different side of Fang than the one that punched my arm so hard that it turned pink. "Well?" Fang prompted, looking at me questioningly. I shook myself out of my thoughts, smiling back at him.

"Thanks," I told him quietly, sitting down in the chair. Fang shook his head dismissively, sitting down in the chair next to me. We were only waiting a few seconds when Mom came in, laughing, with four others who I assumed were Fang's family. Maria skipped in first, still holding the chihuahua, and leading the adults. The man I figured was Fang's dad was almost an exact copy of him, from the long black hair, to the olive skin, to the six-foot height. The only difference was his eyes. They were a nondescript, greyish hazel, shining happily in his open face.

Fang's mother was a beautiful lady. She had dark brown hair, golden skin, and dark brown eyes with tiny silvery accents. There was very little makeup on her face, only a smidgen of a shimmery bronze eyeshadow and shiny pink lip gloss.

How did I even notice her makeup? Dear lord, Ella is rubbing off on me.

"Hello, girls!" Fang's mother beamed at us. "I'm so glad that we got to meet you first!"

Ella and I smiled at her, standing up to greet her properly like Mom always nagged us to. "It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Rianild," I told her politely. She waved her hand in the air.

"Oh please, call me Linda. It makes me feel younger," she insisted. Mr Rianild frowned jokingly at his wife.

"Oh, I see. You don't like being associated with me?" he accused, his eyes twinkling. Linda gasped in mock horror.

"You discovered my plan, James!" She sighed dramatically. "I guess it's back to the drawing board for me."

Mr Rianild smiled at Ella and I. "Hi girls. If you're going to call my wife Linda, I guess you can just call me James."

"Pleased to meet you too, sir," Ella and I chorused. We immediately glanced at each other, stifling giggles.

"Great minds think alike-"

"-and then, there's ours!"

Mom shook her head, smiling wryly. "Excuse my obnoxious girls. They tend to say the same thing quite often, and they have a little tradition every time they do," she explained.

Linda grinned brightly. "That is pretty fun, to have a sister like that! Are you twins?"

"Nah, contrary to popular belief, I'm Ella's elder by almost a year," I informed her. Linda nodded, processing this.

"I see. You girls have already met Fang and Maria, right? Did Maria introduce you to Lulu?" Linda gestured towards the little girl and her dog. I smiled at Maria, and she grinned back at me, revealing two missing front teeth. She was adorable!

"No, she didn't," I replied, crouching down to Maria's level. She held out the chihuahua proudly.

"This is Lulu," she announced happily, her voice high and clear.

"Hi Lulu," Ella cooed, kneeling next to me. "She's so cute!"

"I know," Maria replied airily, hugging the dog. Ella and I grinned. Maria was just as cute as her dog, if not cuter. Nah, she was definitely cuter, with her dark curls and wide, innocent eyes.

"Well, we can talk more over dinner. The food is getting cold!" Linda exclaimed, sitting down at one end of the table. Mom, James, and Maria sat down in the empty chairs. Maria very reluctantly set Lulu down on the floor, where she sat patiently, watching the scene with bright black eyes.

Linda started up a conversation with Mom, and Ella was very seriously debating the finer points on Barbies with Maria. This left me to talk to Fang and James.

Instead, I started heaping mashed potatoes on my plate. I'm not almost mute like Fang, and little Maria, but I've never been one for starting conversations. That's Ella's job. James and Fang were content to eat their food in silence also, which I appreciated. This meant I had more time to eat too, and I was starving. Linda was an excellent cook. I truly enjoyed her talent.

"So, Max," James drawled, cutting his steak. I looked up at him mid-bite. Laying my fork down on my plate, I waited patiently for him to continue speaking. "How are you liking out Cromwell High so far?"

"My first day was pretty nice," I replied truthfully. "I got to play soccer at lunch."

"Oh? Are you a fan of soccer?" James looked interested. I brightened. Any conversation about soccer was bound to be good.

"Max isn't a fan of soccer. She's a fanatic of soccer. There isn't a time when she'll shut up about it for longer than five minutes," Ella supplied helpfully. I shrugged. You can't deny the truth, after all.

"I am a big soccer fan myself," James admitted. "I was so excited when Fang started playing more seriously that I bought him all brand-new equipment." Fang smiled faintly, as if remembering shiny cleats and fresh shinguards. "We will have to talk more about that subject later, Max. But back to the original topic. How was your school day?"

"It went well," I replied. "The teachers are all pretty nice, and the curriculum is good."

"What was your favorite class?" James actually looked genuinely interested in the specifics of my day. This was strange. Most adults are satisfied with a 'it was okay' type of answer.

"I bet it was art class," Ella coughed discreetly. I kicked her under the table, and she flinched. Swiftly, she kicked me back. I let no expression onto my face as I whammed my heel into her shin. Ella covered her squeak of pain with another cough. Maria looked between us suspiciously, but didn't say anything.

"I had a nice time in Algebra," I made up quickly. Actually, art had been my favorite class, but I wasn't about to say that sitting in between Fang and Ella.

"Do you like math?"

"Oh, yes. It's very interesting."

There was a slight lull in our scintillating conversation.

"This is boring. Let's talk about soccer now," James suggested. I nodded vigorously. James was my kind of adult. "What positions do you play?"

"Center of the field, mostly sweeper and center halfback," I told him. He nodded, thinking this over.

"I'm a halfback and forward," Fang informed me, suddenly joining the conversation now that we were discussing soccer. I smiled at him.

"Nice. Do you play competitively?"

"I'm on a club team, if that's what you mean." Fang's face was getting more animated as we delved deeper into my favorite subject. I watched his entire face light up, a foreign expression compared to his school day poker face. He was really cute, but I didn't date anymore anyway. Not after what Sam did to me with Bridget. And why would a guy like Fang want to date me in the first place? Why was I thinking these thoughts? I cleared my head of them as soon as I registered the rebellious thoughts, instead getting back into our soccer conversation.

We finished dinner soon after, James, Ells, Fang and I still discussing soccer over our ice cream and brownies. Maria disappeared with her dessert and Lulu soon after, with only a shy smile at Ella and I to alert us of her departure. She really was quieter than Fang, Linda had struck up a conversation with Ella about academics, and James was telling Mom about the soccer club Fang played for. Fang and I sat in silence as we finished our desserts. Soon, we were sitting and staring at empty bowls.

"You eat quickly," Fang commented evenly, looking at my clean ice cream bowl.

"Right back 'atcha, Fangles," I replied sweetly.

"Touché." He shrugged, pushing his own empty bowl back. "Do you want to go outside?"

"Soccer?"

"Yep."

"You're on."

Immediately, we both stood up from the table. Excusing ourselves, we slipped through the sliding doors and out into a large backyard. It was almost exactly like the front, smooth grass everywhere, with the exception of a border garden filled with flowers. A scuffed black and red soccer ball sat in the middle of the grass. Quickly, I kicked off the heeled sandals Ella had given me, and was running barefoot towards the ball. I performed a quick Maradona before dribbling with the outside of my right foot towards Fang. He was taking off his shoes and socks, laying them down next to my sandals. I waited as he stood up and jogged towards me. "No mercy," I told him solemnly. Fang cracked a small smile.

"No mercy," he replied, before flying at me.

I had to admit. Fang was good. We wove around each other fluidly, shoving and pushing as we fought for possession of the soccer ball. One would get the ball, and the other would nimbly steal it away, only to have it revoked a few seconds later. This was how we played, swiftly and hard, until we were both gasping for breath. Fang glared at me from beneath his long bangs. "What?" I gasped out, putting my hands over my head. I had unbuttoned the rest of the buttons on my green over-shirt, and a slight breeze was blowing directly against my tank top.

"How do you play so well in a freaking skirt?" Fang complained, looking annoyed. "It's not fair."

"You see, Fangles, it's very simple. I am much better than you at soccer," I explained slowly, flashing a wide grin at him. Fang scowled at me.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"How much you wanna bet?" he challenged. I thought for a moment.

"I bet you that I could beat you in a 1v1 match, right here, right now," I announced confidently.

"Deal," Fang agreed, his black eyes sparking with anticipation. "I'll grind you into the dust."

"Eww."

There was a moment of silence as Fang processed my perverted joke. Then, as he understood, Fang roared in irritation, shoving me towards the fence. I giggled at the noise he made. Fang was easy to provoke.

"That, Maximum, is disgusting," Fang announced. I smiled.

"I know. That's why I said it, you see."

"You're sick."

"Not sick, just clever," I corrected. "It is quite an easy mistake to make."

"Let's just play, Max. And keep your mind out of the gutter," Fang ordered. I grinned cheekily at him, before darting forward and stealing the ball once more.

"First one to hit the fourth post to the left in the fence five times wins!" I yelled, pivoting to shoot. Fang slid his leg in front of the ball before I could kick, blocking me. Turning my back to him, I Croifed the ball and shot swiftly. The ball bounced neatly against the fourth post to the left. Fang flipped his hair at me in retaliation, running to retrieve the ball. Rolling my eyes, I sprinted to catch up with him. I was loving the adrenaline high I got from playing soccer with another talented player. Fang was probably just as good as Gazzy was, and that was saying something. They would both be starting forwards on the school team for sure. Fang pulled several amazing moves on me that I had never seen before, and although I got him back for each, they were still very impressive.

Finally, the score in our little match was 4-4. We had each scored four painstakingly precise points against the post, and had fought viciously for each. Neither of us were giving up anytime soon, although we were both sweaty and panting. I had the ball at my feet, but Fang was in between me and the fence post. I would have to bulldoze my way past him to score my final point. Yelling a gasped war cry, I charged him head-on. Fang hadn't expected this, and was looking slightly startled at my strange tactics. I went to Maradona around him, but he swept the ball out from under my foot. Before he could set up for a shot, I pulled the ball back away from him, turning to keep my body between him and the ball. Fang slammed into my back, trying to get me to move. I held firm, shoving my elbows back into his stomach. It didn't budge. That boy either had a metal undershirt, or some serious abs. I swear I bruised my arm against his chest. Fang grunted as he tried to poke the ball away from my feet, and I snorted right back at him, moving the ball with the outsides of my feet. There was no way I was going to let him beat me.

I felt Fang begin to pull back to shove me again, and suddenly thought of a plan. Timing would be crucial if it would work out.

Looking over my shoulder, I glanced past Fang's chest and towards the fence post goal. I moved a step to the left to keep in line with it. As I expected, Fang moved with me. Right as Fang was about to crash into me again, I Croifed the ball through his legs, and darted to the right. Fang fell on his hands, surprised by my tactics, while I dribbled excruciatingly slowly up to the fence post, and tapped the ball against it. "I win!" I crowed, resting my foot on top of the ball. Fang sat up on the lawn, shrugging.

"You win," he agreed, leaning over and bracing his hands against his knees as he caught his breath. "Nice moves."

"You too. I've never seen some of them before," I admitted, walking over to him. Fang smiled briefly.

"I hope not. I made those up," he informed me.

"Really?" I asked. He nodded. "Wow. Those were really good! You have to teach them to me."

"Sure," Fang replied. I smiled as I took another step back towards the patio off the dining room. Suddenly, my left foot gave a huge burst of pain and collapsed. I cried out as my foot buckled, sending the rest of me to the ground. Instantly, Fang was kneeling beside me. His face was expressionless, but his dark eyes flickered with concern. "Max?" he asked. "Are you alright?"

"My foot," I muttered, sitting up. "I probably twisted my ankle or something." However, when I stood up to keep walking, my left foot protested again, sending me crashing to the lawn once more. I was sure Ella's skirt would be full of grass stains after this.

Hopefully she wouldn't kill me. Hopefully Mom had a Tide Stick To Go in her purse.

"You can't walk," Fang stated bluntly. It wasn't a question. I scowled at him.

"Of course I can walk. I just whooped your butt in a 1v1!" I protested, getting on my knees to stand up again. Fang sighed.

"Are you wearing shorts under that skirt?" he asked. I raised an eyebrow, but Fang simply stared at me. I could tell he was waiting for a verbal answer.

"Uh, yeah. Do you think I would go out in public with a skirt like this and no shorts?" I asked incredulously. He smirked, shrugging innocently.

"You never know." My scowl grew, and I pushed his leg as I tried to stand up again. As I half-expected, my left foot once again refused to take my weight, and dumped me. Fang crouched down, slipping one hand under the bend of my knees and the other under my arms. I looked at him strangely, confused.

"Umm, Fang? What are you doing?" I asked, refusing to let my voice show my shock.

"Picking you up," he replied, gathering me closer to his chest as he stood up. My feet left the ground, and I was dangling in his grasp, my face so close to his chin that I couldn't even look at it clearly.

"I can see that you are picking me up," I snapped, swatting his arm. "I'm not stupid. What I want to know is why?"

Fang shrugged, adjusting his grip on me as he headed towards the porch swing on the patio. "Isn't it obvious? You're hurt."

I stiffened, trying to ignore the ropy muscle on his arms supporting my back and legs. "I'm not a damsel in distress, you know. I would've been able to walk over here," I pointed out. Fang actually laughed at my words. It was the first time I heard him laugh, and the sound made me smile despite my slight irritation.

"Well, we can't let you stay hurt, Ride. We need you to be able to try out for the soccer team so we can kick butt this year," Fang reasoned.

I smiled at his logic. "Yeah, I guess so. You, Gazzy and me would be a vicious offense. All would cower under our skill."

We had reached the patio by this time. Fang set me down gently on the padded swing seat, and I righted myself as he sat next to me. Flicking my hair behind my ear, I thanked the lord that the awful blush I had experienced earlier did not return. That was all that I needed. Fang nudged me gently, breaking my thoughts off. "Can I see your foot? I need to check if you hurt it badly," Fang told me quietly. I nodded, lifting my injured left foot up onto the swing between us. Fang took my ankle in his hands, pulling my foot closer so he could inspect it. I had to scoot closer to him to maintain my balance, until I was leaning heavily against his side, almost in his lap. All I could think was,

AWKWARD. TURTLE.

Fang gently probed around my foot with his fingers, looking over at me to see my reaction. I didn't feel a thing until he tapped against my instep. The part right between it and the arch of my foot burned like fire as Fang's finger came in contact with it. "OUCH!" I yelped, trying to pull my foot away. Fang didn't react, keeping his grip around my ankle.

"I found the problem," he announced, peering down closer to my instep. I barely resisted the urge to kick him in the face, instead contenting myself with gripping the seat cushion really hard.

"Really? What is it?" I snapped sarcastically, my mood irritated by the pain. Who knew one foot could hurt so much?

"Do you have any idea how you managed to bruise your foot this badly?" Fang asked calmly, unaffected by my anger. I thought for a moment, wondering what I had done to bruise my foot so badly. Hmmm...

"Oh, I know what happened," I said suddenly. Fang looked up from my foot watching my expression change from thoughtful back to irritated. "My sister took something from me, and I was chasing her to delayed reaction to the pain, 'cause I was fine until just now."

"What did Ella take that you were so anxious to get back?" Fang asked. I looked back down at my hands.

"Umm, the picture I drew of you in art class," I replied quietly. "It was a really nice drawing, and I didn't want her to wrinkle it."

"Oh. Okay." Fang was silent for a moment, and I was afraid he was contemplating how girly and stupid I had acted when he spoke again. "Is the drawing okay?"

"Yep," I told him, grinning. "The picture is fine."

"Good."

"Yeah."

We sat in silence for awhile, but it was comfortable this time. We swung gently back and forth on the swing, looking out over the backyard. I was actually really happy, and optimistic about our new home. I already had friends like Fang, Terra, Iggy, Nudge and Gazzy. My neighbor was really nice. There was a cute little girl with a chihuahua in the house behind me. A boy who I felt pretty much understood me was sitting next to me.

It was weird. As soon as I processed the last thought, I realized it was true. I had just met Fang today, yet he had proved several things to me already. He could be rough, pushing me back when I shoved him. But, he was also gentle when he had checked my bruised foot over. He had pulled my sister's chair and my chair out for us, like a real gentleman. Yet, he had no qualms about trying to steal parts of my brownie while I was trying to ear it. And best of all, Fang played soccer. He loved soccer, from what I could tell.

And damn, was he good at it.

"So, do you like California?" Fang asked softly, breaking the silence. I smiled as I turned to him.

"Yep, good ol' Cali seems great so far," I replied quietly. It was only then that I noticed he was still holding my injured foot. "Thanks for everything," I added, sliding my ankle from his grip. Fang nodded, letting go of my leg. We sat there for a moment, just studying each other's faces. It may have felt like we had known each other all our lives, but we hadn't. There was so much I didn't know about Fang.

But I did know that I wanted to know all about my new friend. Because that's what he is, I realized. A friend. I remembered my conversation with Ella yesterday evening.

I'm Maximum Ride, Ells. I don't make friends easily, I had told her.

I know, she groaned back.

Yet here I was, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Fang on his back porch, on the same day I met him, knowing he was already my friend. He was definitely a special case.

"Fang?" I asked quietly. He cocked his head silently, indicating he was listening. However, instead of saying anything, I leaned forward and put my arms around him. "Thanks," I whispered into his shoulder as I hugged him.

Fang froze, unmoving. If he had been Sam, I would have pulled back, flustered and shy again. But this wasn't my ex-boyfriend Sam, this was my new friend Fang. So instead of pulling away, I laughed.

"This is the part where you hug me back," I instructed with over-exaggerated patience. I could feel Fang's returning laugh against my cheek, enjoying the sound once more. Fang had a really nice laugh. He obeyed me, wrapping his long, wiry arms around my shoulders. We sat in our gentle embrace for awhile, not moving. I was really happy. I had a new friend. And not just any friend. I had Fang.

Edited as of 2/10/12 and 11/21/12

YAY!

I love cute endings. This was rather fluffy in Max/Fang friendship, but I don't want them romantically involved yet. It always seemed to me that Max isn't the type of girl to immediately fall for Fang's looks, but to be his friend first and fall for his personality also! After all, she lives with him for so long in the books without his appearance occurring to her until he kisses her, right? So why would she-

Ya know what? I'll stop rambling now. If anyone would be interested in listening to the rest of my rant, feel free to PM me. I love to talk to my fellow MR fanatics.

Peace out!

~TMI~