A/N: Ohaidere! I see you've had the honor to feel the wrath of my very first fanfic!

Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare you there; 's not like I'm going to bind you to a chair and make you watch episode after episode of Jersey Shore… or the Karadashians. I'm not THAT evil.

But putting that aside, let me just get clear with some things before I get on with the story:

They're all human. No epic wings, no flying, no psychopathic whitecoats, no Erasers. Nein. Just your regular kids.

The characters are most probably going to be a bit OOC. Or actually, no- a lot. So, I'm just warning you beforehand.

Here's the 'new flock':

Maximum Ride- 16 and the main protagonist.
Nick 'Fang' Martinez- 16 and Max's best friend.
Iggy Martinez- 15 and Fang's brother.
Zephyr 'the Gasman' Ride (otherwise known as Gazzy)- 12 and Max's brother.
Angel Ride- 9 and Max's sister.
Nudge Sorrenson- 14 and Max's new friend at school (soon-to-be, anyways).

There you have it!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Maximum Ride. James Patterson does. Unfortunately, I don't own Fang either, because if I did, I'd gobble him up. ^_^

Now, I behold to you—CHAPTER ONE!

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!

I groan and turn over in my bed, covering my head with the pillow and trying to block out the ear-splitting noise. I swear, one day I will revive the guy who made the alarm clock, then torture him to death again.

Finally, after a whole 60 seconds, it stops and my eardrums are left in peace. But just as I'm about to doze off, someone barges into my room and then jumps right on top of me. My breath leaves me in a whoosh, and a voice practically shouts into my ear, "MAAAAAX! Come on, get up already! Look at the time!"

It's my best friend, Fang.

No, his name's not really Fang, it's Nick. Yes, my best friend is a guy who happens to live with me too.

It wasn't always like this, though.

Here's the story. At age 9, my mum ran away with our snowboarding instructor and we haven't heard from her since, while Fang's mother died after giving birth to his younger brother, Iggy. My dad and Mr. Martinez (Fang's father) were work colleagues. Noticed the 'were?' Not three years back, they were part of an unfortunate plane crash- where no one survived. The first couple of months that followed after that were an absolute nightmare. It was exceptionally bad for the little kids; my younger siblings, Angel & Zephyr.

We had no relatives willing to look after us (my, what has the world come to?) and Dad has no immediate family. At least, none that I know of. He never talked about it. As for Mum, you already know. Same thing went for Fang, and that's how he and Iggy ended up staying at our bungalow in Virginia. It's located somewhere into the forest, surrounded by trees and meadows. We have our own backyard, complete with a swimming pool, a FOUNTAIN and an actual tree house.

The tree-house is Zephyr's idea. We call it 'the Crib.' It's the place Iggy makes his paintings (which let me tell you, the guy is an expert at), where Zephyr (or Gazzy, as we all call him for reasons that I do not want to talk about right now) stashes his stink-bombs and holds his many experiments *cough-cough Diet coke and Mentos explosion cough-cough* and Angel keeps her ever-growing collection of
Harry Potter limited edition collector's items. Fang practices his drums here, while I have a personal wall of… well, things. I'm very much into photography and there's this whole portion covered with sketches, posters, some other nonsense that I found hilarious, and the best of all: Pictures. Of all of us. It's like, all our memories, stored right hereon this grand wall. I absolutely love it.

Lucky for us, our dad has left behind a HUGE amount of money, so we aren't totally bankrupt. Plus, Fang works part-time at a music store along with Iggy, and some relatives are considerate enough to lend us some cash sometimes.

Right now, we're five people, each with our very own bedroom, and two to spare. One of which we use as the 'Room of Awesomeness,' filled with different kinds of gaming devices, a mini home-theatre, two PC's (we've already got three laptops- for me, Fang and Iggy), a pool table and a fire pole. Yes, a fire pole. It's a three-storey building and I'd begged my dad to add a pole which we could use to slide down to the ground floor. Or Level Zero. That's where the kitchen, dining hall and extra room are.

On the 2nd level, we have Gazzy and Angel's rooms, along with the 'Room of Awesomeness.' Then on the very top, lie Iggy's, Fang's and my rooms. Oh, plus each floor has two bathrooms. It's the kind of house one dreams of, and it's the best. Oddly enough, there's no store room. Not that we need one, though.

After sometime living together, we got used to no grown-ups being around and seemed to enjoy it, really (but of course, we miss Dad dearly). We used to be home-schooled up until our fathers were gone. But now, Fang had suggested that we ought to join school since education was important for a successful future, yada yada yada. We'd all been against it, but he was adamant and so, I'd had no choice but to reluctantly agree, since he was right after all.

Which is why, here I am, being forced to wake up at- wait, what time is it?

I raise my head and with great effort, pry my eyes open to the size of narrow slits, and see my digital clock reading 7:25 AM. I slump my head back onto the pillow, and try to get the 150 pounds of evil off my back, when its fingers reach out and start tickling my neck. I go into a fit of hysterical laughter and thrash around wildly, trying but failing, to get Fang off of me. During the process, I roll over and accidentally fall off the bed onto the –thank GOD- carpeted floor.

Rubbing the back of my head, I come into a sitting position and slowly open my eyes—only to find a dark figure leaning down with its arm outstretched, fingers wiggling towards me. I frantically squirm out of the way and yell, "Okay, okay! I'm up, Fang! Just stop the tickling or I'll tear your arm off and beat you with it!"

Fang gets up and walks towards the window, and opens the binds. The sudden light acts like a flash in a pitch dark room. I instinctively bring my arm up to cover my eyes. "Noooo. My eyes, they burn. They burrrrn!" I cry dramatically. Carefully, I open one eye and try to adjust to the sunlight.

Fang walks up to me and rolls his eyes, "Gosh, Max, killing a troll would be an easier task than waking you up. It's getting late; we're all waiting for you and your lazy ass to get up, your Highness." He outstretches his hand to help me get up. I slap it away and shakily get to my feet.

I glare at him and the smug look he's giving. God, he can be such a pain at times. But at the end of the day, he's still my best friend. I, myself wonder how that comes to be. Crossing my arms, I say, "You have NO idea how much I hate you, Fang."

"Aw, I love you too," he chuckles.

I feel a blush creep to my face when he says that and get a fluttery feeling in my stomach. But I ignore it.

Still too sleepy too come up with a retort, I just shake my head and make my way to the bathroom to freshen up. After I'm done with brushing my teeth and hair, I rush back to my room and quickly slip into the first thing I get a hold on: a SpongeBob t-shirt with my favorite black hoodie and a pair of baggy denim jeans. There's no time for breakfast.

I slide down the fire pole (which goes all the way through my room, the 'ROA' and down to the dining hall) and leave through the front door to the Ford awaiting me outside. Everybody else is already in. Sitting in my driver's seat, I rev the engine on and turn around. Three tired faces look my way (with the exception of Fang, who I notice, is wearing all black. No surprise there!). "Mornin', Max," they grumble in unison. "Glad you could skip your beauty sleep to join us," adds Iggy. Beside me, Fang snort-laughs.

I turn to him and cock an eyebrow. What is up with him today? He's never this expressive. Usually his emotions equal one of a brick wall. No way can SCHOOL be the reason behind it. In turn, he just shrugs and sends me one of his rare smiles (though not so rare anymore, I shall say) which makes the world spin a little faster.

"Max, do we have to go to school? I like it better this way…" Angel whines.

"Yeah, the whole idea of school is so pathetic! Those people there are just going to torture and bombard us with homework 'cause they've got nothing better to do for a living," Gazzy pipes in.

I look at the two of them and try to give a smile, but instead it comes out as a grimace. "Hey, look. It's not as bad as it sounds. Really. I mean… Fang's right. We've got to go to school no matter how much we might not want to. And trust me; it's better than being home-schooled. We'll get to meet new people, make new friends. The studies are something you'll have to cope with, but you're gonna have a great time."

"Oh, sure…" says Gazzy sardonically.

"But I don't want to make new friends. What if I they don't like me? And if they make fun of me? Then what?" Angel asks quietly.

I reach out and give her hand a reassuring squeeze (which, let me tell you, is very uncomfortable when you're sitting in the front seat). "Angel, dear, you've got nothing to worry about. How could someone hate such a pretty face? Give me one good reason. And if anyone does say something bad about you, ya know I'm there to kick their butts." I wink at her with that last sentence.

She flashes me a shy smile. I turn to Gazzy and say to him, "Believe me, Gaz. It's going to be worth it."

Although inwardly, I am thinking: 'This is a terrible idea! Where's my time-travelling hat? I need to go back and stop myself from allowing this madness! … Oh, wait. I don't have a time-travelling hat. Drats.'

Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit about the 'mad' part. Truth be told, I'm actually pretty nervous. I have never experienced real school life before and have no idea what it's going to be like. From what I've seen on TV, your years at school are supposed to be the best years of your life. But one thing I do know is that nothing in life is perfect. Ever.

"Whatever, Max," Gazzy's voice interrupts my thought. "Just get a move on," Fang interjects. I turn to glower at him for a moment before switching my gear to 'D.' He and I, both, have sort of taken charge- now that there's nobody else- what with being the oldest.

Taking a deep breath, I sigh and try to push away the thoughts of my father that follow. "Alright then, guys, buckle up. This year's gonna be a helluva ride. Or rather, a 'Maximum Ride.'"

A/N 2: Ok, I admit, that first chappie might have been sort of a drag, but it's a starter (quite a long one, really. OOPS.). So, if you've got anything to say, ANYTHING at all, go ahead and review! Constructive criticism is welcome! (: I'm working on my writing skills since usually, I don't write in the present form. I might need to use a Beta reader…

Oh, and I was just thinking about the cruelty and injustice of alarm clocks and lookie what I found here on Google- they're very own lair! .

Welllll, that's all for today, folks!

REVIEWS= HYSTERICAL ME= FASTER UPDATES!

-Dreamer.