Chapter 1

Something very sharp is jabbing into my back. I feel around and tumble over, shielding my eyes from the incoming sunlight. It was rather a poor decision to move my bed next to the window but it's too much effort to move it and – is that a book? Why is there a book in my bed? Why are there three books in my bed?

Where is any of my bedding?

I turn my back to the window and peer over at the floor woefully, my covers tossed halfway across the room. I remember now.

Images flicker through my mind of me stumbling away from my computer, tripping over a pile of books and crawling to bed – only to discover it unmade and in my sleep deprived state this overwhelmed me; I got angry at the bed sheets, whisper yelled at them while wriggling around trying to get comfortable in the mess before taking them to the other side of the room and stamping on them.

My rendition of girls gone wild.

Smacking my hands to my forehead dread washes over me as being awake settles in. My hands slide shaking down my face. I wonder what movie I'm going to watch today? Save me from having to think. Maybe something scary, something overwhelmingly, mind numbingly scary.

I drop my hands to my sides and swing my legs over the side of my bed, sitting up and looking to my computer. There are cups everywhere, there's an upside down bowl sitting on one of my DVDs which are scattered across my keyboard. I can feel an eye twitch as I inspect the dirty mess, my skin crawling and my hands yearning to just fix it.

"Oh sweet baby Bambi," I kick my empty bin over and wonder why I even have it.

Standing up from my bed I put my hands on my hips and survey the damage; my room is always messy now, but it gets to a point sometimes where it's all too much. I start to envision grandmothers coming over and frowning fiercely – or people from the council coming to kick me out and condemn it or – or me starring in a hoarders show.

Complete with them digging me out of all the stuff that's collapsed on top of me.

"Fortunately today isn't that day," I mumble to myself, feeling too weak from the shock of it to tackle this challenge just yet. I bring my hand to my chest and close my eyes, trying to bring my heart rate down. "I am not going to die early from a heart attack. I am not going to die early from a heart attack, am I?"

My big pink Hugs the Carebear smiles sweetly at me.

"My only friend," I smile mildly, patting it.

I navigate my room and skip down the stairs – my room is at the top of this long, pink and spiral staircase I designed (scribbled) when I was little and had dreams – running through a series of doors to get to the kitchen.

"Chocolate, chocolate," I go over to the fridge and open it up, hoping for comfort food and my mouth drops when it's completely empty. "Chocolate, where are you?"

A note is sitting on the top shelf with a big love heart at the end.

Sweetheart I think it's time we started integrating you back into the outside world, we took the food and the exchange students out on a picnic. Love Daddy and Mummy xoxo

Bringing my hat down and looking around, I've been shivering nervously all the way down the street. My other hand is balled up in the ends of my shirt, clutched to my chest as I try and deep breathe the twitchiness away. One foot in front of the other. I can see Safeway. It won't be too long until I'm in, out and back home.

"Maxy –"

Back going rigid and eyes widening my heart skips. No.

"Does anyone know the number for a taxi?"

My shoulders sag and I sigh, thanking the heavens.

Sweat covers my forehead and the heat mixed with my lack of being hydrated is making me feel crappy. My jeans and long sleeved t-shirt aren't helping me but I just – sunburn, might get sunburn.

I don't want to think about it.

My stomach churns and I wince, wriggling, trying to wriggle the thoughts away.

I look around for something, anything to keep my mind occupied. One of the suckiest things about walking is you have time to think and being zombie-like is preferable. My eyes are caught as I walk on by a new cake shop where a juice booth used to be, they have lots of pretty yummy looking cakes. My stomach gurgles and reach for my wallet, but then I see the price.

100 bucks a pop. I guess it's understandable given what they have in there and that this a capital city near the beach, they're actually cheap. Kneeling down next to the window and stroking it, I eye off the Disney princess one with the dancing pumpkin carriages. So cuuuute.


I blink and look over my shoulder to find a messy brown headed dark eyed guy staring at me in shock, his eyes wide and his phone looking like it's about to drop from his hands. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I try not to look bug-eyed, wanting to run into the cake shop and hide, pretend I didn't see him.

Only I'm not quite sure he'd appreciate it and he'd totally follow me in.

"Maxy, god, where've you been?" Brock's voice hitches and plays upon my heart strings. I don't trust myself to speak and my fingers are pressing white against the glass as I try and compose myself. "Sorry stupid question, studying university of course. How's it been? Real fun? You been making lots of awesome friends?"

I still can't answer him and part of the reason is because he's totally wrong, that's not what I've been doing it is so far from anything productive whatsoever. I haven't been studying. I haven't met any friends.

My life has been completely void of awesome (unless you count living vicariously through TV and book characters which most people I've found, do not).

Brock's still standing there looking at me with his big dark brown eyes, full of hope and sweetness – only that sweetness is a lie. He can't be sweet, not after what he said and what he did on the last day of school. Not after he screwed me over like everyone else did by not even trying to understand like friends are supposed to.

He did nothing. He did nothing.

My lips tremble and I get to my feet slowly, trying to remain nonchalant, "Hey Brock, yeah uni's been great and there's so many lovely people."

"That's awesome," He breathes, shoving his hands in his cargo pants nervously and just drinking me in; eyes running over me in adoration, glazing over like he's in a trance. "God I've missed you Maxy. So what about those friends? They cooler than me?"

Brock says this teasingly but there's no doubt in my mind he's asking me completely seriously. How can he do this to me? I feel my heart wrench painfully as he looks at me so innocently, like he doesn't even know how much this is screwing me up.

How dare he ask me that?

I straighten out my sleeves and grin, forcing cheerfulness, "Oh yeah, they're way cooler; some of them are doing degrees on being cool they're so cool. I mean they're total experts. I don't expect you to be able to compete."

"Huh," He cracks an uncertain smile, not knowing whether I'm joking. "So are any of them…any of them…"

My shoulders tense up and I stare at him incredulously.

No, no he's not going to ask me that. He'd be totally stupid to say a word at all in reference to that. I force myself not to scowl, feeling ill and wanting to go home. The people on the street are all walking around happy as dandy they have no idea, swinging their shopping bags and beeping their car keys. No idea that the sweet innocent boy in front of me is a total idiot. He's an idiot.

"Are any of them…you know…um…"

My lips tremble again and I blink furiously, irritated; why did I think chocolate was worth it?

I look around for anything, anyone, to distract me –

Only to discover a very brightly dressed girl texting on her phone and about to be hit by a car.

Taking my chance I jog straight past Brock midsentence, everything starting to go in slow motion and all of the possible consequences running through my mind.

Me and the strangely dressed girl both get hit by the car and get splattered across the road for all of the suburbians of Pleasantville, Adelaide to see.

I end up accidentally pushing her in front of the car instead of saving her.

Or looking like I pushed her.

I manage to do something good.

Avoid Brock.

The last ones 'e' and 'd' are looking pretty good and my legs stretch out in front of me, arms flailing and hair bouncing around. I make out a cry causing her to turn her head and raise an eyebrow, looking vaguely intrigued yet irritated.

"Whhyy dooo yoouu ppeeopllee haavee too beeee soo drammaatiiiiccc –"

I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her away just as the car whips past, the driver hurling abuse out the window and making rude gestures. She struggles against me still kind of unsure what's going on, having just been grabbed by a stranger. I end up being shoved backwards and close my eyes, preparing for the crack against the gutter.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" I feel someone breathe against the back of my neck and jump.

Shrugging out of his arms and crawling over to her to see if she's okay, she greets me with the biggest smile.

"Hey, you just saved my life, didn't you?" She observes with a nod, looking at her phone again and offering it to me. I stare at her like she's nuts and try not to ignore the wounded puppy noise coming from Brock (something that definitely makes a guilty lump form in my stomach). "Oh hey no, I'm not offering my phone for compensation, haha."

"No, no, no," She waves her phone in the air 'no' and looks at me like I'm just too amusing, running a hand through her primary colour red hair, "I just want your number to do just that at a later date, 'kay lovely?"

"Okay um," I smile at her, hesitant to give a perfect stranger my mobile number. "Uh, who are you first?"

A snort of surprise comes from behind me and Brock scrambles forward, pointing at the girl in front of me with wide eyes. She seems semi unfazed by this and continues running her hand through her hair, letting him explain.

Who is this girl?

"This is Piper Kurtenbach," He informs with disbelief, rolling his eyes at me. "She stars in the new Werevixen show, you know? She's like the Australian Buffy – well she plays an American, but you know – how can you not know about her? I know about her! I have her poster on my wall, she kicks total ass!"

"That's me," Piper affirms dryly, looking between us. "Is this your boyfriend?"

"No," I protest, the word even giving me chills. "No he's not."

Brock freezes beside me, obviously upset. But I don't care, he can be upset he can go cry or whine to his friends or whatever else he wants to do. Feeling anxious and tired and just wanting to get my chocolate and go home, I look over to the pavement and begin to get up.

"Look, we better not get run over again," I smile at her. "I've got to go but it's really nice meeting you. I have heard of your show but haven't gotten to watching it yet."

"Phone number," Piper gets up and hands her phone over to me expectantly. "Come on, I promise I won't stalk you or anything."

I give her a look of disbelief. Is she really even paying attention to me?

"Oh come on, please," She begs. "Or give your number out to hot celebrities."

Brock stands up at this, getting a little protective.

A pang of annoyance hits me and I grab her phone, programming in my phone number and handing it back to her pronto. It feels kind of overwhelming and unreal giving a real celebrity my phone number, which she'll probably delete after she thinks she's fairly compensated me but still. Isn't this just a lot cool?

"Actually fine with me if you give it to hot male celebrities," I giggle with a smile, covering my irritableness with the annoying jerk standing beside me. "Give them to as many as you possibly can, do you know Heath from Blue Water High?"

"Not really, I liked the show though," She nods and looks around, pulling down her own cap over her head. "Running late to meet my mum for lunch, she lives around here. But hear from me later, yes?"

Piper nods and hurries off before I can answer.

I feel eyes on me and turn to Brock who's looking very much like he wants to say a thing or two but isn't sure whether he should.

His mouth opens and closes as he runs his hands through his hair; will he or won't he? Or does it even matter? Will anything make me forget? Shifting his weight and semi pouting at me he looks like he wants me to say something. Another pang of irritation hits me, another, another, they just keep on coming.

I look at him, affronted. Is he really this much of a coward? Why won't he say anything?

Why did he never say anything?

I close my eyes and sigh, balling my hands into my fists and trying to retain all of the frustration begging to burst out. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay.

"Maxy, are you okay?" Brock asks, worried.

Forcing a smile and opening my eyes I nod, "I'm great, though you wouldn't be able to tell the difference."


"Got to go, things to do," I wave at him and brush past him, being sure to give a good knock in the shoulder with mine. "Hope you have a nice day, Brock!"

"Hey, come back – you're going to the supermarket aren't you? I can come with, hey Maxy! Maxy."

People on the street look over at me as he cries out and an old lady gives me a sad look, like 'what are you doing to the boy?' or 'give him a chance, darlin'. But they don't know, they just don't know they're on about because they don't know what happened.

What happened and what everyone else let slip by like it was nothing.

"Maxy – MAXY!"

My eyes blur and my shoulders start to shiver again.

It wasn't nothing to me.


Um. I'm back? I'm so sorry I left you for THREE FREAKING MONTHS! Or is it more now? I don't know. But I'm back for NaNoWriMo and hopefully here to stay! Just left all of my homework to the last minute. Among just I don't know. I have attempted being a YouTuber, still in the process of. My videos kind of suck and I like writing more though so, I don't know what that was about. It sends me in a downward spiral every time I update something because um, youtube people are mean. You guys don't do mean like they do mean it's like a whole other level.

I hope this wasn't cliche in a bad way o.o wanted to rewrite A LOT but that alas is not the point of nano. If I manage to catch up on my nano I might give you a one shot or a Bee update?