Summary: FAX AU AH. How do you know when you've found the person you want to spend eternity with? The answer is: you don't. Nobody knows who that perfect other half is until you've had them for what felt like a split second and lost them the next moment. Whenever I look toward the beach, toward the sea, toward the sunset, I'm reminded of what I had. And what I lost.

Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride, its characters, plot or setting. All of that goes to the horrible author James Patterson, who has created amazing characters, but writes his stories very poorly in my opinion… it could be his ghost writer's fault.
Claimer: I do own the plot.

Please read and review. :)

Note: I'm warning you now that this story doesn't have a very happy ending. It is somewhat joyous, yet it's still very saddening at the same time.

This story is inspired by the song It's Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I Am Thinking It Must Be Love by Fall Out Boy.

-Sketch the Heartbreak Girl

For One More Day

Chapter One: Where I Met Him

(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)

That last day – that last Saturday in February we had together was a bittersweet way to end a friendship. I knew he loved me. I knew I loved him. And he knew all of that too. All of that feeling – all of that longing was revealed in the one small kiss we shared.

It was as if fate gave us a taste of what we were supposed to have, but destiny came in, fast-forwarded it and took it all away. That was how it felt when he opened the door to his parents' car, sat in the backseat and stared at me with sadness filling his eyes, waving ruefully as they drove away, separating two star-crossed lovers.

Forever.

Have you ever felt like there was that one person in your life that just understood you completely? Was he or she that special someone that you felt as if you couldn't live without? Did they come onto you like the one single being that could never be replaced in your heart? Finally, did it feel as if that person stayed for far too short a time?

I think all of us have had that moment when we thought that one person, and only him or her, would be the right one for us.

I have.

Even as I'm writing this, I still think back and remember the few precious moments we had in that one month together. I remember his black hair, his onyx eyes, his skinny, but still muscular figure, his emo look, his loving laugh, his husky voice... Everything about him is still clear in my mind. Like a freshly painted picture that deserves to stay on display. Not locked away in a storage room.

I still miss him.

I always wish I could see him again.

For just one more day.

(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)

The day we met was unlike any other.

I sat on the sidewalk, a sigh leaving my lips as the rain blew all around me. I had just run away from my home, extremely furious with my father, and found a decent spot at the park. It was cold, but I didn't care. If Jeb wanted to cheat on Dr. M while Maya and I were still in the house, then so be it. I wasn't going to put up with that shit.

I was hoping that the rain would let up, but it felt as if it were just getting harder. I opted to stare down at my hands, watching as my fingers shriveled into prunes. Letting out an annoyed sigh, I rested my hands on the sidewalk and stared up, letting the droplets fall onto my face. My eyes closed and I reveled in the feel of the rain pound my face.

Seconds later, I couldn't feel the rain on my face anymore. It was still pouring onto my legs, but my face wasn't being touched. I opened my eyes slowly and noticed at there was a black umbrella looming over me. "…Eh?" I mumbled smartly, wiping my eyes free of water.

"You'll catch a cold."

That was the first time I heard his low, husky voice filled with amusement.

I shook my head around, trying to get some of the excess rain out of my blonde hair. After a few seconds, I hopped to my feet, trying to find the person who had done that courteous action for me. "Thanks," I said quietly, trying to duck under the person's umbrella.

After a moment, I saw a mess of wet black hair move under the umbrella as well. He adjusted the umbrella so that it fit over the both of us. I stared at him for a while, not even noticing that he was staring back.

It was a man – no, a teenager. Probably my age, too, I thought.

He had short, jet-black hair that fell over one eye, but it stood up all over the place, probably due to the rain. He had strong and defined cheekbones and an overallmuscular build. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a black shirt and black pants and matching black shoes. With a soft breath, I glanced up into the eye I could see, unobstructed by his bangs. The iris was a beautifully depressing shade of black, his eye narrowed in what looked like amusement.

Wow. He was a really handsome person. (And I never said that about anyone.)

Finally, I decided to spark up a conversation. "Thanks again," I told him, trying to smile though most likely failing, as my teeth were chattering with the cold. "I'm really glad you had that umbrella… If you didn't, I probably would have gotten really sick." I tried to make sure that my thanks was also heard in my voice, but it didn't work very well. I wasn't the kind of person that was good at expressing emotions.

He nodded in acknowledgement and tilted his head to the left, trying to indicate something.

"Huh?"

A soft sound came out of his mouth. It took me a second to recognize that sound as a quiet chuckle. "Let me walk you home," he suggested almost noiselessly. He then struck me as the emo/Gothic type. It made sense, seeing as he wore all black.

I licked my chapped lips and tried to decide whether or not rationality would win this fight. I reviewed the facts I knew: It was pouring rain. I had no umbrella. I was sure to catch a cold at the very least if I ran through the rain. My house was a ways away. "Sure," I ended up saying, my rational side laughing on the inside.

A corner of his mouth quirked upward. Was that supposed to be a smile? "Where do you live?"

At that moment, I realized that I was still supposed to be mad at Jeb. "Oh no… I can't go home," I moaned, clenching my fists in annoyance.

"You… can't?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"I – well, you see – my dad, he's a – umm, actually –"

"Ah." He nodded, as if completely understanding what I was trying to say. "Let me guess. You're angry at your father for something that you had absolutely nothing to do with, and if you came home now, you'd look weak."

"No, that's not –" My voice trailed off, and I felt my eyebrows furrow. "…Actually, that's exactly what I was going to say." I stared into his eye, a little suspicious. "How'd you know that, exactly?"

He winked with his visible eye. "You're like an open book," he replied, shrugging.

I frowned, still confused. "Most people tell me they never understand my emotions, and I never understand them," I told him honestly, crossing my arms and nearly forgetting about the coldness.

"Easy to read, not to understand," he said simply. "Come on. Let's go to Starbucks and get you warmed up." He titled his head to the side again, indicating where he wanted to go.

I tugged on his black sleeve, which he hastily drew away from. "Starbucks is over there." I pointed in the opposite direction, trying not to laugh.

"…I see." He turned around and starting walking away, forcing me to catch up with him. "Any reason as to why you're so mad?" he suddenly asked, not looking at me.

With a sigh, I began explaining why I stormed out of the house. I don't know why I told a stranger all these things, but I did. I told him about the marriage between Dr. M and Jeb, not specifically saying their names, and how hard it was for them to get along anymore. I told him all about my twin sister, Maya and how we were complete opposites. I even mentioned Dr. M's adopted daughter, Ella, who I actually got along with pretty well.

The guy nodded and hmm'ed at all the right times, making me notice how good of a listener he was. Once I was finished with the story, we had just made it to the entrance of Starbucks.

"You wanna know what I think?" he asked quietly, opening the door for me and closing his umbrella before entering the shop.

I nodded and stood in line, shivering at how wet I was. He slid his leather jacket off and threw it over my shoulders. I began to protest, but he shook his head silently and held it open for me to slip my arms in. With a reluctant sigh, I gave up and shoved my arms into it. It was warm and actually kind of smelled nice. It smelled like a mixture of dark chocolate and… cookies? Not really what I'd expect from a guy wearing all black, but it was totally fine with me.

"Thanks," I told him, smiling wide at him.

He nodded and stepped to the counter. The lady cashier's eyes widened considerably when she glanced at him. "Um, what would you like, sir?" she managed to nearly squeak, twirling her red hair with one hand.

"Medium caramel macchiato," he replied with a slick smile. Flipping his hair back, he let his obsidian eyes gaze into hers, some sort of hormonal exchange going on. No wonder that cashier girl was flustered. He's got one amazing grin and two stunning eyes. (Cheesy… but true.)

The girl behind the counter nodded and did whatever cashiers do when they take an order. "Anything else, sir?" she murmured breathily.

He straightened his back and turned to me, the steely face that I noticed earlier now on. His eyes were glowing bright, so I assumed that he was beginning to have a thing for that red haired girl. "Anything you want?" he asked. "…Sweetie?"

I glanced at the cashier lady who was intensely watching him. Her focus suddenly shifted to me as he said the word sweetie. I guess he wasn't into her after all. Who knows? "Uh, can I have a muh-muh-medium hot chocolate?" I muttered, trying not to be intimidated by her glare.

Smooth, Batchelder, smooth, I thought grimly.

I heard Mr. Emo's chuckle from behind, but didn't – or more like couldn't – look back. The girl stared at me, but nodded, inputting my order without taking her glare off me.

"So, um, what's the, uh, cost?" I asked, patting my pants for my wallet.

The black clothed guy stepped forward and tapped my shoulder. "I'll pay."

"No, it's okay, I can –"

He shook his head. "No, no. It's my treat," he said with a chuckle.

The cashier lady's eyes went glassy again. "It's… um. $7.31," she replied, sounding almost half-retarded.

He took out a ten dollar bill and handed it to her, beginning to smile that weirdly sparkling smirk. That didn't look like a genuine smile at all, but I wouldn't really know. "Thanks," he told her as the girl returned his change. Once he put the rest of his money into his wallet, he pulled an arm around my shoulder and held me close, bringing me along to one of the empty tables of the Starbucks.

I looked up at him curiously, wondering why he was holding me against him like that.

"That red head girl has been keeping her eye on me like a lovesick dog every time I walk into this place," he explained to my unvoiced question. With an almost plastic smile, he held out my chair for me. "I was hoping she wasn't going to be working today… I'm sorry if I offended you in any way."

He had a lot of words about this girl. Interesting.

"No, I'm no offended at all," I admitted, trying not to laugh as he sat down shivering. "Thank you for paying, by the way." In all honesty, if he hadn't done that, I didn't know what I would have done. I lost my wallet. Hehe.

"As I said," he reminded, "It's my treat." He scratched the back of his head. "You didn't look like you had your wallet on you anyway."

…Stop being so damn observant, I wanted to shout. "So, I haven't seen you around here before," I realized, all the while trying to change the subject. I rested my chin on my palm as my elbow leaned on the table. "You looked my age, so I thought maybe you were a new transfer at my school."

He flashed a crooked half-smile. "Yes, I am new, actually. My parents moved here… My father has…" He paused and looked outside the window. I followed his line of vision and stared out into the street, watching the rain pound the concrete. "He has a bad sickness that couldn't be treated very well where we lived, so we came out here to California to seek medical help."

"I see…" I turned back to stare at him. He truly was a handsome man.

Lord…

I better not be falling in love – I don't even know the kid's name!

He then moved his face to return my look, chuckling. "Yeah." We kept eye contact for a while, not saying anything; only reveling in each other's presence. I felt like nothing could obstruct this moment… until the red head shouted,

"Caramel macchiato! Hot chocolate!"

I suddenly felt a cold shiver down my spine, but not from my drenched clothing.

He chuckled and stood up, winking at me. "Be right back… sweetie." I watched him as he walked nonchalantly toward the counter and took our drinks, not even fazed by the red head fawning over him. Once he sat back down and handed me my drink, he said, "I wish I didn't like red heads so much."

I raised an eyebrow. "You have a thing for red heads?" I took a small sip from my cup, hoping that my tongue wouldn't get burned. After a second of no real reaction, I drank a little more until my insides were beginning to warm up. Wow. I must've been really cold if I didn't screech in pain from the heat of the hot chocolate.

"Mmhm," he murmured, nodding.

"Any reason why?"

He took a large gulp from his cup and stared outside again, sighing. "I just love the color," he replied, tapping his fingers against the table. "I… don't really know why. It's just such a…" He shook his head without completing the sentence and then turned his onyx eyes back to mine. "I like blondes too, though."

I tried to stifle a giggle, but failed. "That's nice," I told him, sticking my tongue out. "I like emo guys, then."

He chuckled under his breath. "I'm not emo."

"Pfft, you kiddin' me?" I teased. "C'mon. You got the Gothic black getup and you barely say more than seven words in a sentence. You've got to be emo."

With a sigh, he rolled his eyes. "Oh? Well…" His voice trailed off, and he pursed his lips. "You're… blonde."

I stared at him, keeping my face solemn. "You seriously did not say that," I grumbled.

"I couldn't think of anything better to say."

"Obviously."

"That was more than seven words, by the way."

"Whatever."

"That too."

"Shut up."

He cracked a half-smile. "You're the one with less than seven words now, sweetie," he noted.

"Sh-shut up!" I exclaimed, hastily gulping down more hot chocolate. I slammed my cup on the table and growled, glaring at him. "You're one messed up little boy!"

With a husky laugh, he replied, "Then you're one messed up little girl!"

"Oh hush!"

He grinned that half-smile again. "Hmm…" His eyes bore into mine, and I tried my best to stare right back as nonchalantly as I could.

"So… Um… Err… Uh…"

"Silly girl." He shook his head, laughing, but suddenly checked his watch. "What time do you need to go? I'll walk you home," he offered, rolling his eyes.

I took out my phone and checked the time: 6:31PM. "Right now would be nice if you don't mind," I admitted, beginning to stand up. Happily drinking more of my warm drink, I picked it up and scratched the back of my head with my free hand.

He nodded and stood up with me, putting his arm around my shoulders. "I'm glad I took you here," he said in my ear, picking up his umbrella as we left the Starbucks. Somehow, he had already finished his drink prior to getting his umbrella. I hadn't even noticed. Before the door closed, I sneaked a peek at the red head, who was fuming at the ears.

The black clothed guy opened his umbrella and shielded me under it, beginning to walk in the general direction to the park. "Where do you live?" he asked quietly, still holding me close to him.

"Umm, you can let go now," I murmured, trying not to blush.

"Oh." He pulled away, but still stayed close enough to keep me covered from the rain. "Sorry. Kinda forgot."

I tried to ignore the empty feeling from not feeling his warmth, but it was had to pull off. "It's okay," I said, staring down at the concrete.

"So… Where do you live?" he asked again.

"My house is like two blocks away from the park," I replied, trying to keep my voice light and even.

"Hmm, I see."

He was again barely speaking more than seven words, it seemed. I didn't really mind though. The silence between us was calming, even if the rain was pounding down on us.

Every once in a while I checked my phone to make sure I came home at an appropriate time. He seemed to notice this and patted my shoulder in assurance. In response, I smiled up at him, trying to laugh, though it didn't work. All I did was sneeze.

He began laughing and shook his head. I joined in the merry laughter and nudged him with my shoulder, acting as if we were best buddies having a joyful reunion. I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case, but…

I glanced up at him.

I would never forget eyes like those.

He smiled down at me, a full, real smile. I didn't notice that we had stopped walking and were now just standing in one spot, staring at each other. "So…" he murmured. "Where am I supposed to walk you?"

As realization kicked me in the ass, a blush rose over my cheeks. "Umm… Just… Follow me?" I suggested, trying my hardest not to sound mentally dysfunctional.

"Yeah."

I began walking along the sidewalk, slow enough to be shielded by His Majesty's umbrella, but fast enough to actually be productive. At this moment, neither of us were talking and it was silent… But it wasn't an awkward silence. It was a calm and relaxing silence, the kind that I almost never had at home due to fighting and misunderstandings.

"Hey?" I murmured as we crossed the street.

"…Yeah?"

I glanced up at him before continuing on the sidewalk. "What's your story?" I asked. "You're probably sick of me ranting on about my life…"

"Not really." His voice was hard and strained, and I instantly knew he didn't want to talk. "My story… isn't much."

"…I see." I touched his shoulder hesitantly, but he backed away from the contact. "Sorry…"

"No. I'm sorry. You're tryin' to help," he commented, a faint smile gracing his lips.

I giggled quietly. "You're oddly perceptive," I told him, trying my best to lighten the mood.

"Well, I tend to watch silently from the shadows," he replied, the mini smile on his lips growing to a half one. "You can learn a lot more that way."

"I can already tell we're going to be great friends," I muttered sarcastically, walking up to my front door. I stared at the wood for almost a minute before swiftly turning back to him. "Actually, I change my mind. Can we go back to Starbucks?"

"No." His voice was teasing, yet firm. He pushed me aside roughly and pressed the doorbell twice. "You, milady, are going to march up to your father and tell him that you don't care what he does anymore and then you shall march to your room, jump onto your bed and cry your heart out."

I stared at him. "What?"

He shook his head. "That was supposed to stay in my head," he said in an unapologetic voice. The smirk on his face told the truth – he was screwing around with me.

"Obviously." I felt like I was at my wit's end around this guy. He was quiet, he was talkative, he was suggestive, he was teasing, he was funny, he was solemn… In short, he was probably bipolar. But he was so different than all the boys I knew at my high school… in a good way.

He pointed at the door. "I'm gonna go." I nodded at him and stood closer to the threshold so I wouldn't get attacked by the rain droplets when I left the shield of the umbrella. "Thanks, by the way," he added, a crooked smile on his face.

"For what? Shouldn't I be the one thanking you?"

"I think you've made my day."

"…What? What do you mean?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, forget what I said. I'll see you at school," he said, shrugging and turning around to walk away.

"Yeah." I turned back to the door just as my adoptive sister raised an eyebrow. "Ella!" I exclaimed, jumping into her arms and hugging her tightly.

She returned the hug cautiously. "Who was that?" She peered out the door, but he had already become a black dot in the distance.

"A new guy at school."

"But it's the weekend," she reminded, still unsure of my answer. Ella pulled away from me and examined me curiously. "What's with the leather jacket?"

I glanced down at myself and realized that this was Mr. Emo's jacket. "Crap! I forgot he let me borrow this…" I scratched my head and took it off, hanging it on the coat hanger so I wouldn't forget to bring it to school tomorrow.

"Um, Max?" she mumbled, poking me in the shoulder. I turned around and almost bumped right into her. I stared at her, tilting my head to the side. Ella's black hair was a complete mess, and she looked like she was ready for bed – she had her blue pajamas on already!

"Uh-huh?" I waddled over to the kitchen and shivered, trying to find the heater somewhere. I drank my hot chocolate as fast as I could and then popped a cup of milk into the microwave, hoping I could sleep well for once.

"Who's… he?"

I let all the memories replay in my mind, trying to figure out if we had even introduced ourselves at any part of the day. "Umm…" I leaned back against the kitchen counter and focused on our conversation.

Nope. I never told him my name was Maxine Batchelder.

And he never told me he was… Um. Whoever he was.

With a shaky chuckle and a kind of reassuring look, I replied, "Ella… I have no clue."

Ella looked at me like I was crazy. "I guess we're lucky that tomorrow's Monday then," she muttered, sounding much more mature than seventeen year-old me. Oh Ella. She may only be a year younger than I am, but she's so much… smarter… brighter… thoughtful-er… mature-er…

I shook my head and yawned. "No way. Lucky plus Monday equals… It's like dividing by zero. You never do that, so you never put the words 'lucky' and 'Monday' together unless it's something like, 'We're not lucky that it's Monday tomorrow.' Or something."

"You're so bad at getting your point across," Ella sighed, sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs.

"Hey, but you understand me!"

"…No, not really."

I pressed my palm to my face. "I'm going to bed," I grumbled, getting my cup of milk out of the microwave.

Ella giggled and exclaimed, "Good night, Max!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I muttered, trudging up the stairs to my bedroom. I walked past Jeb's room, hoping not to hear skin slapping against skin or screams of pleasure. I walked past Maya's room, hoping not to hear her gossip about something that wasn't even remotely true. I walked past Dr. M's room, hoping to hear something.

Then I got to my room and opened the door, wishing my life would somehow turn out okay.

I'm glad I made that warm cup of milk now.

I was going to need a good night's sleep for tomorrow.

(end of chapter one)

I hope you liked it. I've had this chapter half written for the past… who knows how many months, but I never really got to finishing it. I really like this story idea and I hope you do too.

READ+REVIEW=UPDATES!

The more you read, the more you should review. The more you review, the more I update! (The more work for Bunny!)

If you like this FAXimum Ride story, check out my other one named Fallen. It has a bunch of chapters up right now, so if you like my writing style, FAX, Guardian Angels, past lives and other fun stuff, check it out! [Psh, also if you like Fluffy Bunnies Are So Cute's editing skills and stuff… DUH (:]

Thank you in advance to all reviewers, favoriters and alerters! You all make my day!

-Maximum Strider

PS. Thank you to my obviously awesome beta, Fluffy Bunnies Are So Cute. I changed your name out if you didn't notice.