11. Maxwell
Maxwell
It’s been two days since Clayton told me what happened to him.
It’s also been two days that I haven’t seen Amberlyn on campus which I think is an interesting coincidence. She’s someone I see often, always reaching out. I know she isn’t aware that I know, the timing is just funny.
I’ve had two shifts at the convenience store in town which could also be a good reason as to why I haven’t seen her.
I’m here now, stocking in the soda aisle when I hear a group of people coming around the corner. As if I manifested it, Amberlyn is with a group of other girls. I recognize one of them, but the other two I’m unfamiliar with.
She notices me and smiles wild at me, completely forgetting how I treated her over the weekend.
“Max! I forgot you were here on Thursdays,” she cheers. My face stays the same, no smile or happiness shown at all.
“Get out.”
“What?”
“Leave!” I point back to the direction she came from. Her friend’s mumble among themselves, but I don’t give a fuck enough to listen.
“What the fuck is your problem?” She snaps.
I put down a case of soda with too much aggression that it explodes, leaking Sprite everywhere. Ignoring it for now, I walk right up to Amberlyn and grab onto her chin.
“I know what the fuck you did in your freshman year,” I said quiet enough that only she could hear me. “To Clayton.”
She tries to back away from me, eyes wide with fear.
“It’s not what you think.”
“It’s exactly what the fuck I think. You’re a worthless fucking slut. I don’t know why I ever slept with you,” I scoff.
One of her friends tries to grab her wrist to pull her away, but Amberlyn yanks her arm away.
“What did you just call me?” She questions, voice high-pitched.
“Worthless. Fucking. Slut.”
She slaps me across the face as if I’m the one who deserves it. She’s lucky I didn't do it back.
“If you come near me again or I find out you did some shit to someone else, I’ll string you up the fucking flagpole with a sign stapled to your tits calling you a rapist,” I growl.
“Girls can’t rape guys,” she says.
I take her throat in my hand, slamming her against the wall of soda cases. Her friends grip at me, trying to pull me off of her, but it’s no use. I don’t let go. My fingers are tight around her throat, killing her airway and almost her until I hear my name being called.
My name being called by a familiar voice.
Turning my head, Clayton is there and walking right up to me. Hands on my shoulder, coaxing me to let go of her. They loosen and she slumps, sucking in a sharp breath.
Her friends grab her and they all run out of her.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, voice weak.
“You said you had a shift and I figured I’d visit you. Good thing I did,” he says. “Why did you do that?”
“You know who that was, right?”
“Of course I do.”
“You didn’t hear what she said, Clayton.” I stare into his eyes with a frown across my face, lip quivering because I’m so fucking angry I could cry. “You didn’t hear her.” I say it over and over again, each time my voice gets quieter.
“Hey,” Clayton says softly, gripping both sides of my face to make me look at him. “She’s not worth the trouble you’d get into, alright? Old news, Max. Let it go.”
“Old news for you maybe,” I mutter.
“Stop, okay? Don’t do anything that can get you into trouble. You do enough of that without any help.”
“How are you okay with this?”
“I’m not!” He throws his hands up. “You think that every time I see her it doesn’t take me back?
That it doesn’t bring up the worst memory of my entire life?
But it’s not worth it. It’s not worth you getting kicked from school or worse, arrested, because you decided to strangle her to death! You have too bright of a future, Max.”
I shove him away from me, walking to the entrance of the store. Outside, I pull the pack of cigarettes from my pocket and light one up, sucking in for a long while before I let it go.
“You should stop smoking. It’s not good for your health.”
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the can I just noticed sticking out of the pocket of his pants.
“I brought it for you,” he says, pulling the can from his pants and passing it to me. A watermelon Red Bull.
“That one is my favorite,” I say.
“I know. You always have one,” he says. Not wrong. The last two nights after my shifts, Clayton and I have studied and I’ve brought the same Red Bull with me. “I know that you can get them here, but I just wanted to get something for you.”
“Thank you,” I say as I take it from him. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Forgotten,” he says with a wave of his hand. “Just don’t let it happen again or I won’t be so forgiving.”
“You didn’t hear what she said,” I say again.
“Drop. It.” He grinds out.
I close my mouth into a thin line, nodding my head.
I tell myself that I’m going to let it go. I was going to make her pay, but I respect Clayton more than I thought. If he doesn’t want me to push on it, I’ll stop.
I just can’t be held responsible for what happens if Amberlyn runs into me again.