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Age Is Just A Number


Fang always wanted to write but with lack of a muse he resolved to teaching English in another State. But then he meets Max, a dancer who turns his world around. But do things work out like in a book?

Drama / Romance
S.M Scobie
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

In two weeks Fang would be starting his new job, his first job. Two weeks of freedom left, then it's back to High School. Only this time he would be teaching the class, assigning homework and giving pop-quizzes. Four years of college, another two or teacher training and now Fang wondered, was a lifetime in the education system even worth the great vacation time. He would have preferred to be writing rather than teaching, but until inspiration hit, it was back to school.

Fang looked at himself in the full length mirror, it was his last night in New York then it's off to Virginia in the morning-ok mid-afternoon. Flights had been booked, boxes packed and his small inner-city apartment never felt more like home than it did now.

Sighing, he walked away from the mirror and wandered down the hall to find his best friend and roommate, Iggy leaning against the counter in the kitchen, texting someone, most likely a girl. Iggy and Fang had been best friends for as long as they both could remember, they shared a dorm all through collage, and just stayed living together up until now. This was their night of celebration, they were going to Club 9, one of the sickest, craziest dance clubs in the city. They are so selective of who they let in, which meant you were always going to 'bump' into someone attractive.

"Ready man?" Iggy asked, still not looking up from his phone.

"Yeah, I guess. Who you texting?" Fang asked curiously.

"Taxi Company," Iggy stated flatly. He looked up to see Fang's dumbfounded expression. "Yeah, you can do that now. Jeesh man, get your head out of those books!" Iggy laughed and gave him a playful shove as headed outside to the now waiting yellow taxi. It didn't take long to get to the club, and both Fang and Iggy were itching to experience what the night had in store for them.

Pulling up a block from the club, the guys could hear the thumping bass which only brewed their excitement further.They got out and Iggy paid the cab driver. There was a long line of desperate customers, all desperately wanting to get into Club 9. To be honest none of them were that attractive, hence they were out in the cold. The bouncer saw Iggy and Fang and instantly let them in, they were such regulars they never had to wait. It also helped that the bouncers brother was an old friend of Fangs.

Fang nodded at the bouncer as did Iggy and walked into the neon filled, pounding bass of Club 9. They did their usual routine, got a few drinks, flirted with some girls and caught up with friends that they always seemed to bump into. Iggy was always the funny guy, so it didn't take long for a group of people to be standing around us listening to his detailed amusing stories which always resulted in a flurry of obnoxious laughter. Fang was more reserved than Iggy, laughing along but rarely sharing any stories of his own. For some reason, girls seemed to find it a challenge. They would stand too close to Fang so he could practically smell the alcohol on their breaths. It was frustrating for Fang if he wasn't interested, much like right now.

A girl with long red hair and a matching dress was practically latched onto Fang's side, giggling at the little that Fang was saying. She was putting on a pathetic show, but Fang was too polite to say anything. So he resolved to simply sending desperate looks Iggy's way, none of which he was picking up on. The girl sent a flirtatious wink in Fang's direction and declared she was going to the bathroom, obviously hinting that Fang should follow, but he had no intention. Once the girl left the bar Fang turned around and ordered another drink. It came fast and as he was taking the first sip the music changed and the lighting grew dark.

Fang turned to look at the stage that always hosted a variety of acts, live bands, mainstream DJ's and always very attractive dancers. Never strippers, Club 9 wasn't that type of place, but the dancers alone never failed to disappoint the hungry crowd. A hush seemed to fall on the crowd as all eyes turned to the stage. An up-beat song filled the speakers and the lights turned a deep purple colour. That is when she walked on the stage.

Long legs standing on shiny black stilettos. My eyes were fixated on her legs lightly tanned but illuminated by the deep purple lights. Matching purple booty-shorts that covered enough, and a tight top accented her small waist and toned stomach. She walked like a supermodel on a catwalk, and the hush from the crowed turned to uproar. Her dance was choreographed to perfection. The moves she did were not just sultry they were technically perfect. It was a wonder to Fang how she could do all those spins in such high heels. The only thing he could think about is how badly he wanted to meet her.

As the song reached its climax Fang found that he had made his way to the edge of the stage, drink forgotten now sitting at the bar. She was moving faster now as the song picked up its pace. She was directly above Fang now and he had to life his head just to look at her. At the final beat of the song the girl dropped to her knees in an epic ending. The music stopped and the crowd went wild for her. Fang felt paralyzed as all he could do was stare at the girl now staring right back at him. Her chocolate brown eyes were wide, her mix of blonde and brunette hair wild with a hint of curls. She was breathing heavily as she stared him, a small smile creeping up on her face. Fang felt himself smirk at her, and suddenly the music changed, the girl stood up and walked back stage, leaving him standing there.

It was later that night, as Fang sat with Iggy at the bar when the girl appeared again. She was all he had been thinking about and it seemed she had been the same. Out of nowhere the girl stood next to Fang and Iggy at the bar and ordered herself a drink. She looked so at-ease, care free as she sipped her drink while giving me a small smirk. She had changed out of her dance outfit and was wearing s short flowing black number with strapped shoulders and a plunging neck line. It seemed impossible, but she looked even better than she did before.

"I was going to offer you a drink," Fang said to her, leaning closer so she could hear me over the loud music. She leaning in closer also and he realized with a surprise that she wasn't drinking alcohol, just a soda with ice. It made sense, a girl could not dance like that if she drank regularly.

"Well then how about you tell me your name instead?" she asked me, sitting down on the stool beside Fang.

"Fang," Fang told her, noticing her eyes spark with curiosity.

"Fang?," she questioned, "that's an unusual name?" she spoke clearly.

"It's European," Fang lied through my teeth.

"Are you European?" she asked in disbelief, a small smile appearing on her face.

"Not a trace," Fang spoke smugly.

"Like I said, that's an unusual name," her face was just inches from mine. Fang could feel her warm breath hitting his chin because he was much taller even though she was wearing high stilettos.

"Can I get your name?" Fang asked hopefully. She paused for a moment as if considering her options. Fang continued to wait patiently as she took a long sip of her drink.

"Max," she smiled. Fang stayed with Max for hours, talking and flirting until early the next morning. It wasn't until the crowd began dissipating through the now open exits that Fang realized the time. Fang checked his phone for the third time, keeping an eye on the clock and wondering where Iggy had disappeared to.

"You need to be somewhere?" Max asked as Fang typed a text to Iggy. The main lights had come up and Fang had a feeling that the only reason himself and Max were not being ushered out by bouncers was because Max was a dancer at the club.

"Well I've a flight to catch in nine hours, so," Fang laughed nervously. Max checked her watch and eyes widened slightly at the time.

"Crap, I have to go," She sighed. She hastily slipped on her shoes that had been kicked off a couple of hours earlier. She hopped of the bar stool and began to walk away. Fang reached out and grabbed her arm just before she was out of reach.

"Wait, when will I see you again?" He asked and the words felt new but nice coming from his mouth.

"I'll be around," she called back as she sent Fang a playful wink and made her way to one of the side 'Staff Only' doors of Club 9. Fang stood there for a moment, watching the door she had walked through,hoping that she would come back out again. But she never did. A buzzing from his phone indicated a text from Iggy. Sighing, Fang left Club 9 thinking of nothing but Max.


"Ok Nick, here's your classroom," Principle Thomas of Great Oak High School and Fang's new boss said. Fang walked into his first ever classroom. The white walls were bare, with only a white-board and two high windows decorating the walls classroom. There was a cheap wooden desk in front of the board and rows of single desks facing it. Fang walked over to the desk and put his bag and jacket on it.

He turned back to Mr Thomas and smiled slightly at him, as he handed Fang his time table. He was a well-dressed man, probably in his early fifties. He wore glasses that balanced at the end of his crooked nose.

"Thank you Sir," Fang told his boss and shook his hand.

"No problems at all, and please, call me Stephen," Mr Thomas smiled. Soon after Stephen left Fang to his own devices.

He looked down at the time table to see who he had first, praying that it was freshman. But Fang could never be that lucky, first class, seniors, every Monday and Tuesday and Friday, great. He checked his watch. He had five minutes until his first every class would walk in and he would attempt to teach them.

A small kid, clutching his bag to his chest walked in. He seemed really jumpy and hardly looked up as he walked in and took a seat at the very front. He was five minutes early, which meant Fang would have to entertain him for probably ten minutes as no senior ever made it to class on time.

The student opened his back-pack and took out a brand-new text book, which reminded Fang that he'd forgotten his in his car. Hopping off of the desk caused the kid looked up at me in alarm.

"Forgot my book, I'll be back in a minute," Fang muttered to the kid who was on the urge of hyperventilating. Sighing as he left the classroom Fang jogged slowly down the halls and through the back door which led right onto the teachers parking lot. Approaching his car he could see his text book sitting in the back seat. Unlocking the door he reaching in to grab it before closing the door and locking up again. As he got inside the school again, he saw that the halls were deserted. Great, he thought.

He ran to the classroom, but walked just before he came to it. Fang took a deep breath before walking into his classroom that was full of excited, talkative seniors. He shut the door loudly so they'd all notice his entrance, just a little trick he'd picked up on.

"Sorry, guys. I left this in my car," Fang said making his way to his desk, holding up the text book. "Does everyone have one, by the way?" He questioned. Nobody answered while he dug into his bag for a white-board marker. "Okay then," he muttered as the class remained quiet.

"Okay, so I'm Mr Walker and I am going to be your English teacher for the rest of this year" Fang announced, facing his class for the first time. He couldn't tell them his nickname 'Fang' that he had picked up in college because it would be hard to explain that to curious hormone-crazed teenagers.

Fang sat on the edge of his desk and pulled the attendance list out of his bag, also resting on the table.

"Ok so, Adam?" Fang started taking attendance; having to look up at every kid, to get a visual picture of each one. He continued down the list. As he collected attendance he received a collection of here's, yeah's and present's.

"Okay," Fang said, checking another name off of the list. "Max?" he called out. A tall girl with blonde-brunette hair, looked up. Is she crying? Fang thought to himself. She was wearing a leather jacket over a dark purple top and black-ripped jeans. She looked amazing and too familiar. Her blood-shot mahogany eyes, were full of tears that hadn't yet spilled.

It was Max. Max from Club 9. The Max Fang hadn't stopped thinking about since that night, beautiful Max, who could dance in a way that had Fang mesmerized. Max looked him in the eyes, nothing but hatred directed at him.

The room hadn't gone silent like in those romantic movies, it was still loud with buzzing students. Nobody had noticed that Fang was frozen in place. He knew his mouth was open slightly, in shock that Max was actually here, in the flesh not just in his head. Only Fang was her teacher.

Oh God.

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