Chapter Twenty-Eight
With our last regional competition (and hopefully state) coming up, Max and I don’t have time for more stolen moments during band practices.
In fact, we barely see each other all week.
I’m happy for any excuse to be with him, so I jump at the chance to come to his place Saturday to paint D&D miniatures.
“This is nice,” I say when I walk into the apartment he shares with his mom.
He shrugs. “I guess. Mom tried to do what she could with decorations and plants.”
It’s a basic space with plain white walls and dated carpet, but Melanie was able to liven it up some with bright pops of yellow and lots of houseplants.
Still, standing in his living room, which also serves as the dining room and Melanie’s office (given the messy desk shoved in a corner), I can understand better where his resentment from before might have come from.
This apartment is certainly very different from my house—or, I’m guessing, the house he left behind when he moved here.
I walk to a round kitchen table where he’s laid out all the paints. I pull out the miniatures I bought, along with more paints and brushes Mom and Dad had in a box in the basement.
“Are we ready for this?” I ask, picking up the model that will serve as Ellywich and seeing how many tiny details there are to paint.
“I don’t know. I hope this wasn’t a horrible idea.”
“Why don’t we start with some of the terrain you bought.” I pick up a building that’s supposed to serve as part of Darkthorn. “We can’t mess these up too much.”
“Let’s hope not.”
I study him as he sits down across from me. Something about his tone isn’t quite right. There’s an edge to his voice that I haven’t heard since band camp.
“Is everything okay?”
He doesn’t look at me. “Fine. I’m just tired.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and pour out some brown paint.
The minutes tick by as we work in silence, and my tension ratchets up.
He hasn’t been this quiet around me since August. Maybe our secret is affecting him?
I know it’s been harder for me than I was expecting.
I’m constantly monitoring myself, making sure that I don’t give anything away to my parents or the rest of the guard.
I can’t even meet his eye during practice, for fear that I’ll accidentally smile and someone will ask what’s going on.
I keep going over it in my head, trying to decide on how we should handle things moving forward.
I’m not eager to hear everyone’s opinions, but we can’t keep this secret forever.
The first few days made sense because it was so new, but at some point people will start getting upset when they find out we’ve been lying.
And I still think we have the possibility of bringing color guard and percussion closer through this.
Maybe we could even invite both groups to get pizza together or something.
It makes me smile, the idea of Li and Felix getting to hang out together.
If we’re going to be good leaders for our sections, the least we can do is be truthful to them.
I’d like to talk to him about all this, but not if he’s already in a mood.
Finally, after ten minutes, Max sighs and his shoulders slump. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I’m just in my head about my dad.”
I let out a breath. I don’t want him to have struggles of any kind, but I’m relieved he’s not upset about us. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he hasn’t come to any of our football games or competitions this season.
I know it’s a drive for him, but I figured he’d be there for at least one.
I was expecting him next Saturday for the regional.
” He slumps lower. “But Mom heard from him last night, and he said he’s not coming to that or state.
I guess he already has plans with friends those weekends. ”
Seriously? Anger surges in me. It would be one thing if his dad had to work, but how can he choose his friends over his son like that?
Max has been in band for years, so it’s not like his father wouldn’t understand how important it is or how much work goes into our season.
Especially when Max is a senior. This will be his dad’s last chance to see him on the field.
“Mom made excuses for him,” Max continues, “but he’s angry with me, I know it.
He wanted me to stay with him when they separated.
He didn’t understand why I’d leave when I already had a life there.
” He rolls back his shoulders, probably trying to come across as nonchalant, but he’s anything but that now.
“The longer I’m away from him, the more I realize Mom and I should’ve left sooner. ”
“Max, I’m so sorry. What he’s doing is…” I try to think of the right words without cursing out his dad. “It’s not right. He’s your dad and he should be there no matter what. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yeah.”
“Is your mom doing better?”
That brings a small smile to his face. “She is. I know Dad’s trying to make everything more difficult for her, but she’s so much happier now.”
“Good. And don’t second-guess your choice to move back with your mom. She needed you.”
“I know.” He rubs his free hand down his face. “This is probably irrational, but now I want the percussion to perform even better just to rub it in Dad’s face. I want him to know that I don’t need him there cheering me on in order to do well. That I don’t need him at all.”
Hesitantly, I reach across the table and squeeze his hand. He gives me a grateful smile and entwines his fingers with mine.
“Thanks for being here. Sorry I’m not very good company today.”
“That’s okay,” I reply. “I’m happy to be here when you need someone to talk to. We haven’t had much of a chance to do that lately.”
“I know,” he says. “Band practices have been so intense this week.”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. All week I’ve been thinking about how we’re keeping this secret from everyone.”
He sits up straighter. “You have? I’ve been thinking about it too.”
I sigh in relief. Thank god we’re on the same page. I’m sure it’s been just as hard on him as it’s been on me. And once we tell everyone, we can actually spend our spare time together during practice. We could even ride the same band bus to the competition next Saturday.
He squeezes my hand again across the table and scoots his chair so he’s a little closer to me. “I’m so glad you suggested we keep things quiet.”
My body goes cold.
“I wasn’t sure at first, but now I see that you were thinking much more clearly than me. Can you imagine how much our sections would freak out? The last thing we want to do is distract them right now.”
He looks at me expectantly. I’m so surprised that I can’t think of how to respond.
“Percussion…it’s not going well, Hazel.” He sits back, pulling his hand from mine.
“We’re splintered. I’m trying my best to bring the section together, but if Brody, Kyle, and some of the others found out about us, they’d use it as another thing to give me grief over.
I’m just really glad we agreed to focus on what’s most important for now. ”
What’s most important.
It’s as if his words are tiny daggers embedding deep into my flesh.
Yes, I know how competitive Max is, how competitive we both are.
And, yes, I was the one who decided I didn’t want to tell anyone else about us…
but not because color guard was more important to me than he was.
It was because I didn’t want to ruin what was happening between us by having everyone else’s opinions in the mix.
“Honestly, I don’t think I’m up for painting today. Would it be okay if we postponed and did something else?” He stands and stretches. “Mom’s shift isn’t done for another four hours, so we have time to watch a movie if you want. If we watch LOTR, I promise I won’t inundate you with more factoids.”
His gaze is so soft that my worries seem baseless in the face of it.
I just wish I could feel totally secure in this new relationship.
Can I even call it a relationship when no one else knows we’re together and we barely see each other?
It doesn’t feel like it. But we get so little time together, and I don’t want to ruin this afternoon.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I tell him, working hard to keep my voice steady. “You know you won’t be able to stop yourself from talking through the whole movie.”
His gaze falls to my lips, and he grins playfully. “I can think of a few things that could keep me from talking.”
That’s all it takes to make my pulse skitter.
No matter my hesitations or worries, there’s no denying how Max makes me feel.
I could lose out on our bet, the MVM award, even state, and I’d still be happy as long as Max was with me.
But could he say the same? I know he really cares about me. He just cares about band more.