A/N: I updated quickly! So this is a brief interlude in Max's POV because I felt that so far throughout the story, his character has been kind of flat and boring (although obviously that's how Bridget sees him). But I felt like making him a little more 3-dimensional before the story started to get going in plot. So let me know if you feel like adding Max's POV is good or not, because if you guys like it, then I might stick in these interludes here and there. I figure it'd be a nice break from the diva that is Briget Lieson. Anyways, thanks to all my reviewers! And keep giving those reviews! Great encouragement for me to keep writing!

I hate family vacations.

Don't get me wrong. I love my parents and it's great spending time with them. But something goes wrong every time we set out for some quality family getaway. Case in point: when we flew to the Bahamas, our luggage got lost, which contained Mom's ultra-protective sunblock (she burns just standing under the sun for a minute). So trips to the beach were delayed until the luggage arrived, which happened to be the last day we were there. Adding to that adventure is a list of car trouble on road trips, injuries on the ski slopes, and accidental burns by the campfire. Can you really blame me for being wary about this particular trip, even if it was just a trip to a cabin?

And this worry was fully justified. Turns out Dad's long lost friend had a daughter who went to my school, the next Queen B to be exact, and I just happened to "gracefully" barrel into her that day at school. And contrary to what she must have thought, it was not because I'm this really uncoordinated geek…well, ok, maybe I am, but at that moment I was not. My friend Dave and I were discussing the events for the next Science Olympiad tournament when my other friend Brandon came rushing toward us…or rather, rolling toward us.

Brandon is somewhat of an anomaly and really follows his own laws. That being said, he had gotten a pair of those Sketcher shoes/roller skates-in-one and decided to try them out for the first time at school of all places. Now this guy is even worse than me when it comes to coordination, so it was really no surprise that he was literally spinning out of control. What came as a shocker was that instead of swerving to the left to avoid collision with us, he decided that running into Dave would be a softer cushion than the linoleum floor of the hallway. As a result, Brandon and Dave hit my locker with a bang, and in the process of hitting Dave, Brandon's arm caught me by surprise, causing me to jump out of the way, and wouldn't you know it? I jumped straight into Bridget Lieson and got the Glare, which, lucky me, I've been on the receiving end of since we've arrived at the cabin.

Now I'm sure the rest of the male population at school would be positively drooling at the idea of spending one week with Bridget Lieson, but let me tell you one thing: she's not called the next Queen Bitch for nothing.

We've been here for two days now and so far, everything that comes out of her mouth is an expletive, a complaint, or an insult. When she's not speaking, she's scowling or glaring. And of course Bridget even makes such scrunched facial expressions look attractive. It's a pity that her personality is so completely opposite.

Great, I probably sound like some gossipmonger who likes to complain and talk trash about the 'beautiful' ones. But believe me, spending the amount of time with Bridget that I have these past couple of days would even make Gandhi feel malicious.

So it's a complete surprise to me to see how different Emma is from her older sister. And it seems she also has a bit of a crush on me, which is a completely new concept to me. I mean, I know I'm not the next Josh Neels in the looks department, and obviously not in the suaveness area. This blushing and stuttering when it comes to the opposite sex is a bit annoying, but seeing as I rarely interact with them at school or outside of school, it hasn't been too much of a problem. Not that I'm proud of it. I mean, it'd be pretty cool to be a suave Don Juan and just be natural with women. You think I like the stupid stutter and blush that probably makes me look like a pansy? My mom thinks it's absolutely adorable, but I beg to differ.

Anyway, of course Murphy has it that I'm forced to interact with not one but two girls for a week, one sweet but a tad overeager and scary in her affections and the other condescending and not bothering to hide her disdain for me.

Which brings me back to Bridget again. I'd like to say that I'm a nice and tolerant guy, but really, like I said, it's impossible to be around her. She bitches and moans like no other. Now if I were really vindictive I would say that she deserved that hurt ankle and that large slice of fish. Bad karma right? But I'm not that much of a bastard. In fact, I'm even feeling a tad guilty for taking so much pleasure in watching her suffer through that fish last night. It was obvious she would rather burn her Vogue magazine than eat that thing. I was too annoyed with her earlier antics and rudeness, however, that I couldn't help but feel that she deserved the torture. And it must have shown on my face at the table, which I suppose prompted her to offer her plate to my dad. The surprising thing was that she took the fish with not a grimace on her face; rather, she smiled at my dad quite kindly and politely thanked him.

That was quite uncharacteristic of what I'd seen of Bridget Lieson so far. The glare she gave me afterward reassured me that she was not possessed by some sort of altruistic spirit, but I still couldn't help but feel slightly chastened. Maybe she wasn't as bad as I thought? I mean, I've only known her for two days after all, although truth be told, I've heard rumors of her "Queen B-ness" since freshmen year. But perhaps her attitude is all a front to hide her self-doubt and insecurity? I've heard women are complicated like that.

Ugh, I bet Watson and Crick never had to deal with this. But then again, Watson and Crick were self-serving assholes who took advantage of poor Rosalind Franklin's knowledge.

Long story short: it's the third day at the cabin, and I'm in the company of a 12 year old who is, um, enamored by me I guess, and her sister, who's next in line to the throne at Billiard High and probably hating me even more for what I did last night. God, I feel like freaking out like a pubescent girl who's just discovered boys, except my feeling's not so pleasurable.

In fact, it was starting to turn into a full-blown panic attack, so I quickly went outside on the deck and called Dave.

"Wait, so let me get this straight. You're stuck at the cabin with Bridget Lieson, the meanest girl in our grade, who probably hates your guts now that you've rammed into her and taken delight in her suffering. Meanwhile, her younger sister is in love with you and following you around like a whipped puppy," he guffawed over the phone.

I sighed, closing my eyes. Yeah, Dave was obviously not the right person to call. See, this is why guys don't do that whole 'deep and personal conversations over the phone' thing.

"Yeah, Dave. And, man, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I have absolutely no idea what to do," I said, trying my best not to whine. He'd never let me live it down.

"Dude," he laughed, "Dude. Man, this is…wow"

Ok, this conversation was getting ridiculous. This was the guy who beat me in the 8th science fair?

"Dave, I get it. This situation is beyond strange," I snapped. "Now are you going to say anything useful? Because if you aren't, I'm hanging up. My patience is, pardon the cliché, hanging by a thread."

"Max, you're asking me?" he exclaimed. "I don't know. I've had as many encounters with girls as you. They're a totally different species."

It was true. The two of us were a couple of sad male beings. So much for the only-live-to-reproduce theory. We couldn't even approach women.

"Well, at any rate, it's only a week right?" Dave said, now attempting to be helpful. Perhaps he finally noticed my pain. "So try to avoid interacting with them. Like, with Emma, suggest that the two of you watch some sort of science documentary on tv so that way, she'll be too busy watching the screen to moon over you."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah…that could work."

"And as far as the whole Bridget thing, she obviously doesn't like you so it's not like she'll want to be around you. Wouldn't want your nerdiness to rub off on her royalty right?"

Hmm, I knew there was a reason why Dave and I were friends. Maybe I would be okay and get out of this week alive and unscarred.

"You know what? You're right. Everything will be fine," I said, a grin starting to form.

"Of course I'm right. I've always been the smarter one," he retorted, obviously not resisting the urge to get an intelligence quip in the conversation. "But yeah, now that your problem's solved, I've got to go. I'm going over to Brandon's to teach him how to rollerskate with those stupid shoes of his."

I raised an eyebrow, although obviously he couldn't see. "Yeah, good luck with that."

"Thanks." And with a click, he hung up.

Okay, so that conversation was actually helpful. The plan would work. Our tv had on-demand and that had plenty of documentaries to distract Emma. And as far as the situation with Bridget, well, Dave was right. Why on earth would she want to be around me since she obviously despised me and my 'kind.'

These thoughts relaxed me and I turned back to my book, which was an extremely interesting study on the link between primates and homo sapiens.

Just then, I heard the door to the deck open. I turned, expecting to see my parents or Emma coming to look for me.

A head stuck out, and lo and behold, it was actually Bridget.

She stared for a moment, and I, of course, blushed as always when it came to women who were not family. Stupid blood flow.

I expected her to huff in disgust and quickly leave, but instead, she smiled…sweetly? Oh man. Alarm bells began to ring. Something was wrong. Bridget Lieson did not even smile politely at me, let alone sweetly.

She opened the deck door completely and stepped out. It took me a few seconds to fully comprehend that Bridget was in fact coming towards me.

I stared at her face, which, while still smiling, now held a glint in her eyes.

Raising my eyebrows, my cheeks getting redder and redder, I shook my head and finally took her in as a whole.

Wait, was that…oh my...

Ok, cue full-on-blush.

What the hell?