Summary: Max's life has been what she thinks is a waste, and seemingly, so does everyone else. But when two special people step into her life and give her 60 days to turn herself around, will she have the strength to make it in time?

A/N: As I was reading a bunch of other fics, I realised that the plot for my other story, Mindgames, might be a bit boring, so I'm starting this one too, which will be my own creation as far as I can tell. If you want me to continue the other one, then I'll need reviews to let me know what you think, because I'm not sure if it's good enough.

So basically, in this story, Max is everything she never wanted to be. Overweight, ugly, dangerous, mean, lonely, violent, dumb, and always in detention. She has no friends, and not even her parents are supportive. But when two new kids move into her school, all they want to do is help her, so they set up a 60-day plan to change her life completely. But Max has already sunk into depression. Will they be able to pull her out of it in time?

You might not like the way I've made Max, but please give it a chance. This story is about how she changes her life with the help of her new friends, and after sixty days, I'll probably still be continuing it, about how she gets revenge on people who bullied her or something. Heh {; And don't worry, though only two of them are helping her, the whole Flock will be part of the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Max Ride. I'd probably have exploded with happiness long ago if I did. c:

-Faximum

Max's P.O.V.

Days: 60

High school. Another way they torture children. But what did children ever do to adults for them to put us through it? Apart from me of course. I'm a waste of space. The only people who have never told me so are my new friends, who are, after just over a week, already the most important people in my life. I tell myself that over and over as I doodle stars around the number 60. That's the number of days I have. And I want to start right away.

"Max!" her voice brings an ear-to-ear smile to my face, and I turn to see Nudge trotting towards the swings where I'm sitting. I'm in the local park with my sketch book. School ended an hour ago, and we arranged to meet here at exactly 3pm. Nudge is right on time.

"Hey, Nudge," I reply as she sits on the swing next to me. "Is he here yet?"

"I just saw his car pulling up." She smiles, which only makes me happier. I don't think I've ever been more hopeful as Nudge shows me a notepad. "I listed all the things we have to do, and made a schedule of how we're going to start off today." She hands it to me and I read it eagerly, hardly noticing as a tall boy with strawberry blond hair approaches.

"Iggy!" I look up to see him reading over my shoulder. He smiles at me.

"We'd better get started on this," he says, pulling me off of the swing and towards the white lines painted on the grass. "First of all, running." We stand in a line, then Iggy whistles with his fingers and we start running. Usually, running is painful – not only physically, but mentally, because I can never stop thinking about how fast the other kids are going, and that I want to do that too, and how they all point and laugh when they've lapped me twice. But not today. Today, I have Iggy and Nudge.

"Pump your arms and take long strides, Max," Nudge advises, bringing me back to reality, and I notice they're keeping pace with me. Nobody's ever tried to do that before. I try to copy what she's doing, and it works a bit. Iggy is leaning forward a bit, so I do that too. We run for about half an hour until I need to rest, and we sit on the bench for ten minutes before starting again. We do this at intervals, until one moment where we sit on the track and Iggy says something that surprises me.

"We've been running for three hours now. What's next?" his unseeing eyes look bright and full of energy, and I wonder if that's always how you feel when you're slim. I can't wait to find out.

"I say we hit the hay for today. Tomorrow's Saturday. That means we can go through a lot of this stuff." Nudge suggests, getting slowly up. "We'll meet back at the swings at 11am."

"Good."

I close my diary and hug it to my chest, closing my eyes, and flop backwards onto the bed. I want to remember these moments forever; the moments where I had friends, the moments where I had friends that cared so much. I can just see it now – day 61. I'll strut confidently into school, slim and pretty, and do well in my subjects. And plot up a sweet little bowl of steaming revenge.

I lock my diary in the drawer beside my bed and bring a towel to the bathroom. Inside, I step in the shower and turn on the hot water. The water feels nice, like it's symbolically washing away the worries of my day. I soap myself down, rinse it off quickly and step out, feeling clean and fresh. I wrap a towel around my body and get some pyjamas on the way to my bedroom. Then I change and sit in the bed, turn my phone on and slowly let myself fall asleep to the sound of Paramore.

Close your eyes and make believe
This is where you want to be
Forgetting all the memories,
Try to forget love cause love's forgotten me
Well hey, hey baby, it's never too late pretty soon you won't remember a thing
And I'll be distant as stars reminiscing
Your heart's been wasted on me

Their names are the last things in my head before I fall into unconsciousness.

Nudge. Iggy.

Iggy. Nudge.