1 Chapter 1

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Be-Click!

The boy groaned, his weary eyes still drooping slightly. He didn't want to get up, but he knows his parents will make a fuss if he didn't arise and go to his college classes. So, reluctantly he got out of bed and looked around his room.

It was simple, a desk to the left of his door. His dresser is a few feet away from the foot of his bed. Pictures of forests littered the wall and green curtains covered his blinds. His backpack sat next to his desk, with his books and homework spewed across the floor.

"I'll get that later..." He thought. He got up and went to his attached bathroom. Quickly, he brushed his teeth, got in the shower, then brushed his hair. His orange locks were slightly wild, a piece flying from the center of his head into a curl. He had light brown eyes his eyebrows were small, forever tilted upwards. Brown freckles dotted his cheeks and nose, giving his face a more childlike look. He sighed, he hated it.

He walked out to his dresser and grabbed a white t-shirt and some underwear. He put those on before walking to his closet and grabbed jeans, his green sweater, and his lace-up boots. He reached to the top of his closet with difficulty and grabbed a flower clip from his mother. He smiled and put it in his hair behind his ear.

It was February 22nd, he was still rather salty at his lack of Valentine's cards, but honestly, who would love him? He came down the stairs and saw his mother and little sister in the kitchen.

"Mom, you know you can't cook. What are you doing?" He asked, coming to her left side. His mother had the same orange hair as his, but it was longer, and hugged her face adorned with a yellow flower. Her face was round with the same freckles he had. Her eyes were a very light blue, staring off into nothing.

She wore a yellow turtleneck sweater with a dark green skirt. White knee-high socks with grey boots and a pearl necklace. "Ah, Maxy sweetie! Good morning! And no, I'm not trying to cook, I just finished doing the dishes." Her voice was sweet and soft, perfect for a lullaby.

"That blind woman can't do shit!" A high-pitched voice laughed. Max whipped his head around and saw his little sister laughing and pointing at his poor mother.

"Delilah! You know you can't use that type of language in the house! And anyway you're only 13! No one will like a kid swearing!" Max yelled back, pointing at his little sister. She wore a smug smile in her hot pink tank top and a darker pink skirt. Her blonde hair was in pigtails, held up by pink bows.

"Maxwell. Why are you yelling at my baby girl?" His voice was deep, commanding and it scared Max. He turned around and saw his father, he wore a grey suit with a black tie. His piercing chestnut eyes looked down at the cowering boy. His hair was the same shade of blonde that Delilah had.

"Dad... Dad, she started using disrespectful words at mom!" Max said his voice breaking. Begging his father to believe him.

His father glared at his son; he was scared when he got like this. His long nose turned upward; disdain written all over his features. He rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen, stopping in front of the coffee machine. "Maxwell, make eggs for your mother and sister."

Max nodded his head and got to work. He was used to this, when he was younger his dad always had to cook meals, but he had enough of cooking in the morning, so when Max started high school, his father taught him how to make meals. He made scrambled eggs for Delilah and a fried egg with toast for his mom.

He grabbed the plates and headed for the table, placing them in front of the owners. He kissed his mother on the cheek as he placed her plate in front of her, "Happy 43rd Birthday Ma. I'll get a cake for you when I get home!"

"Awe thank you, honey!" She sighed, picking up her fork and resting her head on her hand. "I can't believe how old I am getting. Soon I'll be nothing but a pile of dust!" Max chuckled, sitting down right next to his mother. He didn't eat anything as he watched his family eat, he'll get Pop-Tarts at his college.

At 8:30 a.m. Max went up to his room to grab his bag and went outside to wait for the bus. His first class was at 9:30 a.m. and he wanted to get there early. He walked to the bus stop, looking ahead he found one of his friends.

"Max! Max, you're late!" She whined; she was overdressed for his taste. She wore a brown scarf and a light brown overcoat that went past her hips with big black buttons running down along the middle. She wore a black skirt with black tights underneath and brown boots that ended right under her knees.

"Yeah yeah, I didn't feel like getting out of bed today." Max chuckled, rubbing the nape of his neck. It was only now that he took in the surroundings around him. Light snow fell from the sky, putting light powder on the recently cleaned road. Where the lawns would be, sat five inches of snow. It was not that rare to have this much snow so late in the year.

"Ugh! You're hopeless! Why am I even friends with you?" She said, her face covered with heavy makeup. Max chuckled, why was she friends with him? They only have like, two classes together and when they are in their shared class, they sit on opposite ends of the lecture hall. Almost like she doesn't want to be seen with me.

The bus slowly arrived, and the two adults walked in. They sat next to each other, immediately going on their phones. That is until Max's friend had something to say. "Hey Max, did you know that a new guy is supposed to come to our college?"

Max put down his phone at this, turning to his friend. "Oh really? How do you know?"

"Our professor texted me!"

"Why would our professor's text you-"

"Doesn't matter!" She yelled, Max winced, he hated loud noises. "Apparently he's going to be in our class! He just moved here from Russia! I wonder how hot he is! Do you think he'll date me? I mean, I'm obviously the prettiest girl there!" She flipped her hair, her acrylic nails snatching some of her strands.

Max snorted. "Sure, he'll be head over heels for you. You do know the popularity contest stopped as soon as you graduated high school, right?" Max wasn't one to be sarcastic, but by now he was tired of her endless tweets about her relationships.

She huffed, crossed her arms, and turned away from him. She knew she was going to get her revenge soon. She slid a sung grin on her face and turned back around to Max. "Hey Max, when's your birthday again? I forgot." Easily turning her friendly persona back on.

"I am going to turn 21 on May 23rd. Why?" Max asked. He watched his phone, looking at the lessons he had to do for today.

"Not important. Look, you're 20, right?" Max nodded his head, looking up and confused at her new entitled voice. "Mr. Miller said that he's 22! He's a little too old for you, so I suggest that you stay away from him."

"It's only a two-year difference. It's not like my parents who are seven years apart! And even then, that's not that bad! Studies have shown that 11% of the world's married couples have an age gap of six to nine years! Why are you even telling me to stay away in the first place?" Max borderline yelled, he didn't really like this attitude, it was reminding him of Delilah.

"How do you even know that? Never mind! I'm telling you this because he's mine! It's so obvious you're gay! Just stay away from my man!" She wailed, standing up and stamping her feet.

"Jesus Christ stop it! You're acting like a five-year-old, or even worse a Karen! And anyway, I'm not gay! Sure, I'm part of the LGBTQ community but I'm not gay!" He screamed, standing up as well and staring her directly in the eyes. He didn't even realize what he said, it was all spur of the moment.

"How can I trust you? Just stay away from him! I know he'll be hot! If he's not, then you can keep him!" She huffed one more time before she sat down and went back on her phone. Max was confused and stayed standing for a few minutes before he finally sat down when he got his head straight.

Maybe she just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Maybe she just needed to vent. Yeah, it's not like she wanted to stop being friends, or else she would have kept arguing, right?

"University of Alaska Fairbanks, next stop."

______

When they got on the grounds, Max wouldn't talk to his companion, and neither would she. They walked in silence to the cafeteria. Max went to a vending machine and the other went to the counter. Max sat down on the wall, watching people go by. His friend didn't come to sit with him, but he didn't care, he was used to eating alone.

He started to unwrap his strawberry Pop-Tart. He smiled and quickly took a bite of the one on top, he knew he wouldn't be able to eat the second one in a row, so he planned on keeping it for later. He was in tranquility until someone tapped his shoulder.

He grimaced as he looked up, but all his anger flew out the window when he saw who disturbed him. He had hair that went to the middle of his back, pulled slightly up by a ponytail. His hair was unkempt in the front, but it wasn't an 'Ew he never takes care of himself' hair, it was 'How can someone pull off that great of a look' hair. It was dark brown with dark red highlights skewed about. His eyes were dark green with his left side wore a scar that went from the middle of his forehead to his mouthline. One of his eyebrows was slit in the middle and he had two earrings on his right ear and a bandage on his cheek.

What he was wearing sold the look for a 'Hot popular guy in high school'. He wore a long black-sleeved shirt with a skull in the middle and a stylish light grey vest. His hands adorned fingerless gloves, and around his neck, he wore a silver cross that dangled in his squatting position. He had black military boots, ripped blue jeans, and a belt with chains that led to another hoop on his left, and his back pocket on his right. Max could feel his face heating up, how could he be in the presence of this beast? Did he mention the guy was ripped?!

"Excuse me," His voice was deep and authoritative, Max could see him becoming a boss of a huge company someday, and that accent! Max could barely understand it but somehow made him even hotter. Why do accents make people hotter?! "I seem to have forgotten to exchange my rubles for American dollars. Do you think you can buy me something from the vending machine?"

"Uh, yeah sure! What's your name?" Max got up, walking with the man to the vending machine close by. "I'm Vincent Popov. You?"

"Maxwell Smiths, but you can just call me Max. All right, Vincent, what do you want to get?" Max asked, turning to face the hunk, Vincent.

"Can I have the fruit snacks please?" Max nodded and turned back to the machine. He paid the money, pressed the buttons, and gave the desired treat to the boy. "Thank you, Maxwell."

"You're welcome. I've noticed that you have manners. I haven't seen that in a while." Max joked, smiling as he looked back up. Vincent looked disgusted, did Max say something wrong?

"Yeah, if my mom ever found out I didn't use manners, she'll have my head. Is there any way I can repay you?" Vincent didn't smile, it fit his face well, even though it filled Max with anxiety. Max laughed, unaware of the beast stomping her way to him. "No, it's fine, you don't have to repay me. It wasn't a big deal."

"Maxwell Smiths! What are you doing?!" Max grimaced at the voice; the entitlement roared through everything else in her shrill voice.

"I'm just talking with Vincent. He asked me for something, and I supplied it." Max replied, resting his hands on his hips.

"I told you to stay away from him! He's mine!" She screamed, getting closer to Max. Once she was a foot away from him, she raised her hand and slapped him across the face.

Max fell, his cheek stinging. He rubbed his cheek and looked up at his so-called friend, who had her hand up for another strike. Max flinched, preparing to get hit multiple times. But nothing happened.

He looked back up; Vincent looked beyond enraged. He held her wrist in a terrifying grip. He then smacked her across the face that pushed her to the floor. She yelped, noticing the audience she smirked. She started bawling, clutching at her cheek like it was the worst pain she ever experienced. "Y-You can't hit a girl! That's harassment!" She sobbed, louder once she noticed no one was coming to her aid.

"SHUT UP!" She went silent immediately, terrified. "You don't get to create a stupid sob story, just to get people on your side! I am so tired of entitled white girls who think they can get what they want, just because of their sex! You are just an incredibly incompetent ignoramus that needs to realize the consequences of your actions!"

Vincent turned back around to Max calmly, doing a complete 180 from a dangerous psychopath to a quiet bystander. He lent a hand to Max, gesturing for him to get up. It took Max a few moments, but once he got his head wrapped around the situation, he quickly took Vincent's hand and stood up.

Vincent wrapped an arm around Max's shoulder pushing him forward slightly. It was a few minutes before one of them spoke up, they were far away from the scene by now. "Hey, Vincent? I want to thank you, but you didn't have to do that. She's always like this, we fight, she doesn't talk to me for a few weeks, then we go back to being friends."

"That sounds very toxic. I don't want to see her around you again." What's with Vincent's new attitude? He barely even knows Max and yet he is doing everything he can to help him. "Did you come to school with her?"

"Yeah, we took the bus. But seriously you didn't need-"

"Meet me by the parking lot when you finish classes. I'm taking you home."

"WHAT?!"