Hey! I'm back! But before I start with the story, please make it be noted, once again:

THIS IS NOT THE SEQUAL TO THE GAME OF JEALOUSY!!!

This is a completely different story with FAX, and NO SCHOOL! (In other words, a complete alternate reality)

I stalked down the hallway, silently, angrily. I didn't want to be at a new school, I didn't want more people watching me, judging me. Not that I really even cared, it just got annoying.

I looked down at my schedule again-

Homeroom . . . . . . . room 216 . . . . . . . . . Mr. Evans

I glanced at the clock. I had ten minutes until homeroom would be over. Then a bunch of snobby, rich kids would stream in and fill the hallways, watching me out of the corner's of their eyes, trying to place in some group, trying to fit me in.

Thing was, though, I never just "fitted in".

I wandered aimlessly down a few halls, cursing quietly under my breath. I've moved five times in the last two years. You'd think that by now I'd be able to navigate around a school easily enough. You'd think that the numbers on the doors would make sense, and that I'd be able to figure out the pattern to them, but nope.

Ugh.

At that moment of my deep and soulful thinking, as I was turning a corner, someone flew into me and sent me sprawling back on the floor.

"What the hell?" I growled, instantly jumping to my feet.

The girl also got up quickly, swiftly, as if she'd had a lot practice with that move.

I couldn't help checking her out, dragging my eyes up to her messy, dirty blonde hair then down to her piercing, sharp brown eyes that were also scanning my own body. She had on a tight black tank top that pressed against her flat stomach, but a ripped jean jacket over top. Her pants were faded and fit snug, outlining her curves perfectly. On her feet were worn out running shoes. No jewelry. No accessories. Just . . . her.

"What?" She snarled, taking a cautious step back. I noticed her stance, the way her legs were placed securely, but also ready to strike at any given moment. I could tell she knew how to fight.

"Excuse me? You done staring?" She glared at me.

Whoa, she also had attitude problems. But I should've guessed that from her style . .. Tough, worn, but also . . . hot. She was definitely hot.

"Sorry," I muttered, surprising myself. I never apologized.

Her face stayed a scowl. A scowl that probably should've scared the crap out of me, but instead made me want to grin.

"New here," I offered. I wanted to keep her here, keep her talking.

"I can tell," She seemed to cool down slightly, her face slowly turning into an almost thoughtful expression.

I took my hand out of my pocket, and offered to shake, "I'm Fang."

She stared at my hand, then back at me.

"Fang?" Her face changed to what could've been amusement.

"Yep" I didn't take my hand back.

She sighed, and finally shook my hand. Her hand was surprisingly small and soft. Her shake was firm. Huh.

"My name's Max."

Max. It suited her.

Before I could say anything else, the bell rang, long and loud, startling me enough for her to slip her hand from my grasp and then step into the crowd, leaving me behind, somewhat stunned.

Girls never refused me.

But she had just left.

I started walking again, ignoring the curious looks I got, my thoughts on Max. She was different, I could tell.

Another thought flashed through my mind.

Her.

And me.

I want Max.

I need suggestions with Fang's last name. I'm thinking Wolfe, but, I want to see if anyone has idea's. So . . . review and tell me what you think!