Hey guys, it's Maxie. So I just thought of a realy cool idea for a fanfiction. While I make think it's cool, you guys may think it's lame though, so if you want, give me a lot of feedback on if my idea is cool or not. As well, I think I need help with making my characters extremely out of it. And lastly, if you could please explain to me in a review, what are the following: Mary Sues, OC's, OOC's, and AU's? Thanks for everything in advance!

So without further ado... I present to you, THE BREAKUP PLAN!

MAX POV:

I've always been kind of a loner. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, "Oh, Max, how could somebody as polite and loving ever stay away from the social crowds of high school?"

Well, it's really rather simple. You see, high school is like a pack of wild dogs. They bite scratch, they're a pain in the ass. And it's all to get what they want, which is generally even more popularity. I'm no expert, but I think that it goes a bit like this:

Apparently, it's antisocial to spit in a girl's face.

Apparently, I also can't fight correctly with punches and kicks. I have observed a number of catfights, and from what I have seen, you're only allowed to use scratches and slaps and screams, oh my!

If you aren't tan, then, to be frank, you're a loser. I have no idea… perhaps looking like an illegal Willy Wonka worker's in these days.

If you don't have a number of friends that the small brain of a popular can't comprehend, you also won't make it very far.

And lastly, it's a necessity to have an obnoxious boyfriend, who you seem to have an unspoken agreement that you are only each other's trophy.

Now, there are lots of different groups of these so-mentioned dogs, but the worst? The worst are all the girls. And while I may be a girl, I still hate how the other girls at my school are. Especially Lissa.

Man, I really hate Lissa. She's the leader of all the other girls at this school. And while I can't say that this bothers me, she also seems to catch the eye of every single guy in Phoenix Bridge High School. Including my best friend Fang. Well, Nick. Fang? Nick...

Fang. We'll just call him Fang.

Anyway, I just don't see why the guys like her. Sure, she's rich, and always wears showy clothing, but where's the inner strength in that? And besides that, she's dumber than a deer wandering onto a highway.

No, wait. I take that back. At least the deer would do that for food, but Lissa would do it thinking she was on the set of Girls Gone Wild.

And I certainly don't see why Fang even likes her. But he's always had a thing for fake redheads, like, in second grade, when we had a brunette teacher, Mrs. Weiss, well, he was didn't listen to a thing she said.

Not like I can't see why everybody in the elementary school dreaded having her for any subject. Mrs. Weiss had the most arid, chapped lips with about a billion cold sores surrounding her top lip, so that whenever she spoke, she would always smack her lips obnoxiously, and spit would fly all over your face whenever she spoke close to you. Which happened to be one of her main issues.

So, anyway. We got this lovely new substitute when Mrs. Weiss needed to have surgery on her face. (Guess that many facial spots aren't too healthy, are they?) This new chick's name was, wait for it, Ms. Bedbanger.

Yeah, I know. Hysterical. Bedbanger. Of all the last names in the book, our horny, sexist pig of a principle decided he wanted to have a teacher, in front of a class of seven, maybe eight, year-old children, named Bedbanger. He has some serious issues.

Anyway, this new teacher was certainly an improvement for Fang's taste. She had, well, red, wavy, waist-length hair that fell directly around her thin shoulder blades. And I think that that, of all of her features, really attracted Fang.

Because when Mrs. Weiss came back, she seemed to have brought back some major additions of plastic surgery with her. And she was well improved a lot.

Except for one thing- she still had no red hair. And Fang still gave none of his attention to her.

So, that's when I came to my conclusion; that Fang would only date girls with red hair.

Around the same time, he came up with his own conclusion about me; that I liked Dylan.

Okay, and that might be very accurate. Just might be.

FANG POV:

I woke up to the sound of my sister, Nudge, pounding down my door with her bony fists. "FANG! FAAAAAAAAAANG! HEY! MOM SAYS YA' HAVE TO GET UUUUUUUUUUUP!" she hollered.

I groaned and rolled over on my stomach. "Please. Shut up," I mumbled into my pillow. There was nothing I loved more than a good sleep. So the fact that she was waking me up was pretty dangerous for her small, fragile, seventh grader form.

Nudge, who had somehow caught my murmurs, jiggled my door only to find it was locked. I smirked.

She was probably glaring at the door right about now. "Fang… Open the door or I'll tell Mom the real reason you have those cans of spray paint right now… Because I know you don't have an art project with Max about 'abstract art.'" I shot up. My mom would kill me if she ever found out that I took the liberty of 'decorating' Principal Smolders' car.

I sighed and stretched my arms over my head, then managed to stumble like a drunken man to the door and unlock it to reveal a very smug-looking 12-year-old girl.

"Well, it took you long enough to get up, but I have my ways. 'Cos, you know, I just have that power. I don't really know how I can do things these things. Ooh! Maybe it's 'cos I'm a girl… I've always known that girls were, like, totally awesome! All girls are totally fashionable, and we all have, like an instant- ohmaigawsh! I just love, love, and love instant noodles. Like, don't you? I adore, like the beef flavors. But I feel so totally bad for the cows… I mean, like, not that I don't love a good-"

I didn't hear the rest of what she said. I was down the stairs and chomping furiously on my cereal by then. What? Just because some think that I'm some kind of emo cult leader, like Max, does not mean that emo cult leaders don't want a good, healthyish breakfast each morning. And by healthyish, I mean consisting of maple syrup with a side of pancakes and heavy douse down of chunked milk.

Lets leave it at this; I don't really have the time to go shopping anytime soon. And Mom can't because… she hasn't been well lately.

After finishing my beautiful works of art, five-star breakfast, I shoved myself out the door and hopped in my black van (So pedophiliac, I know.) and hit the gas pedal.

Look out, Phoenix High, Fang's back.