Chapter 8
Eight
following rules is not my area of expertise
Max
‘Why are you FaceTiming me? Has someone died?’
‘What a way to greet your sister,’ Ava says, rubbing bleary eyes. ‘And no. No one’s dead. I mean, not as far as I know. Have
you spoken to Grandma recently?’
‘Why are you calling?’ I lean my phone against my mug and switch to my headphones so the rest of the dining hall won’t hear.
‘I have too much to say for text.’
‘Voice notes exist.’
‘Yes, but you listen to them on double speed because you’re impatient and only end up retaining half the information.’
I spear a piece of bacon with my fork. ‘Half is a stretch, honestly.’
‘Is that my favourite brother-not-in-law?’ Finn’s voice says. ‘Let me see your beautiful face.’
He moves into frame, eyes alight as he drops on to the sofa next to Ava. Sometimes I wonder how the two of them are together,
because this man’s concept of personal space is non-existent. Ava and I were in the womb together and she still squirms away if I’m sitting too close.
‘Miss you already, Baz,’ I say, catching Finn’s grin and waiting for Ava’s response.
She looks between us suspiciously. ‘Wait–Baz?’
‘My new nickname,’ Finn explains, puffing his chest. His T-shirt says my girlfriend is dino-mite below a Stegosaurus, which I’m one hundred per cent certain he purchased for himself, and equally certain that Ava has forbidden him to wear out of the house.
I clarify, ‘Finn couldn’t be part of the family without a nickname, could he?’
Her eyes, the exact same shape and shade of blue as mine, soften for a second before she spits out, ‘But where the hell did
Baz come from?’ I open my mouth to explain but she interrupts with, ‘You know what? I don’t care. It’s too early for this.
If you two want to flirt, do it on your own time. I’m calling you for a reason. I heard about your cabin situation.’
‘Oh.’
‘Oh exactly. I asked Dylan how things were going last night—’
‘Offended that you didn’t ask me how things were going.’
‘—and she got all evasive and weird, and when she finally told me about your fuck-up I could tell she was still trying to
be polite and act like it didn’t bother her. You’re stressing her out.’
‘In my defence, she seems very easily stressed.’
‘That’s even less of a defence, you idiot. You’re going to give her a heart attack. First, you refused to meet up with her beforehand—’
‘I only got back from my last trip a couple of weeks ago,’ I whine, because when Ava and I bicker, we definitely regress.
‘We texted a bit, but she was busy with her own stuff too.’ I neglect to mention that I saw a few texts from Dylan but then
put my phone aside and completely forgot to reply for a week. Object permanence is not my forte.
‘Yeah, well, she was already anxious since she doesn’t know you, and now you’re probably proving that all of her worst fears were justified. I promised her you’d be a good housemate, but
this thing with the cabin? I know you don’t find it weird to live with someone you don’t know–you’ve probably done it before–but Dylan’s not used to this. She likes to know what she’s in for, and you are pure, unpredictable chaos.’
‘You love it. Everyone loves it.’
‘No, Max, not everyone loves it.’
‘I do,’ Finn butts in.
‘Thanks Baz.’
Ava sends her boyfriend a withering glare that just makes him grin harder. ‘As someone who’s known you for quite a while—’
‘Not your whole life though,’ I interject. ‘Remember those few minutes you were out without me?’
‘—I know you’re going to goad her, because you cannot help poking the bear. So Max, listen to me: do not poke the bear. I
mean it. Dylan’s had a busy year–decade, life, whatever–and she deserves to chill out a bit, and while I realise you have
about as much chill as an active volcano, please don’t rile her up for the sake of it.’ She surprises me by addressing something
I thought she’d avoid. ‘And don’t be too . . . you. Don’t look at me like that, you know exactly what I mean. She doesn’t deserve to be messed around.’
‘I’m offended by your lack of faith in me.’
‘Remember what happened between you and my friend in Year Eleven?’
‘Lily?’
‘No, that was Year Twelve. I’m talking about Beth.’
‘It’s been almost a decade since we left school. I can’t even remember what I did last week.’ I do actually remember Beth,
though. And Lily. And I’m not entirely sure Ava ever found out about Rosie, either, but I’m not about to tell her now.
‘I don’t want my friendship with Dylan ruined all because you can’t keep your–you know. Your hands to yourself.’
Finn barks out a laugh, and Ava’s usual scowl amps up to full volume.
‘We don’t talk about this kind of thing,’ I point out.
‘We do when my friend is in the firing line. Please just remember that your actions have consequences.’
‘Thanks, Mum. I’ll bear that in mind.’
Finn leans his head further into the frame and says, ‘I’m gonna leave you guys to it.
’ He kisses the air in my direction, and when he kisses the side of her head for real, Ava’s mouth lifts into a small smile she immediately tries to hide.
As soon as a door closes in the background, she asks, ‘When do you get your results?’
‘Wow, way to bring the mood down.’ My heart speeds up at the reminder of the scans I had before I left, however unlikely bad
results feel right now, but I level it out within seconds the way I’ve been taught over the years. Deep breaths and shit.
I dig through my English breakfast for a hash brown that I know is in there somewhere. ‘My doctor’s away at the moment, so we’ve scheduled a call for next week.’
She waits for me to stop analysing my plate and adds, ‘Dylan doesn’t know anything, by the way. I haven’t told her.’
‘Thanks.’ I try to hold the knowledge of my medical history close, because while I wasn’t lying when I told Dylan I’ve had
some slightly-more-than-minor health issues in the past, it’s also not something I feel the need to disclose in detail with strangers.
I know the sickness in my bones defines me even less than the dark hair I was born with, or the fact I’ve always struggled with knowing my left and right, but I don’t trust that
other people do. It’s bad enough at big family events with step-relatives and third cousins and all those once-removeds who
know more than I ever wanted them to. Seven years of ‘How are you really, Max?’ and tiptoeing around the word ‘cancer’ with wide-eyed concern. I always feel like they won’t be satisfied until I tell them
in great detail all about the dark place I descend to every so often, or until I announce that, surprise, last year’s resurgence
wasn’t enough–it’s back again! Third time’s a charm.
But trips like these are a special type of medicine for me. New place, fresh start, taking each day as it comes. Because if
there’s one thing I learnt from my brief pitstop on The Other Side, it’s to make the most of right now. To look around, even
if I can’t look ahead. It’s all I have.
And frankly, I’m not the only person who might benefit from some of that attitude.
Ava butts into my thoughts. ‘Text me as soon as you hear anything, okay?’
‘I will.’
‘No condolences from me until you’re at death’s door,’ she promises, a small smile ghosting her lips.
Ava’s one of the only people who fully understands how I deal with this. She knows there’s nothing to pity about the man I
am now. I’m a far cry from that twenty-year-old boy who spent months in and out of hospital for treatment. The heart that
stopped that one fateful day still beats in my chest, and it’s that, more than anything, that drives every decision I make.
I close my eyes as I chew. ‘Fuck, hash browns were what brought me back, I swear.’
She snorts, and our shared grin tells me she gets it. It’s time to move on.
‘I’m sorry to steal your sister,’ Finn says, coming around the back of the sofa and setting his hands on Ava’s shoulders,
‘but we need to get going if we want to make it to brunch in time.’
Ava groans. ‘Don’t rush me.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ Finn leans closer to her and adds, ‘But I know you’re going to complain about how busy it is if
we get there too late. I’m saving you from yourself, Ava Monroe.’
Though she’d never admit it, I’ve never seen my sister as happy as she’s been since meeting Finn. But where she was always
a romantic at her cynical heart–I heard her love songs through the wall and knew about the romcoms she secretly watched, after
all–I can’t help feeling like I’m the opposite. I can do affection, can do touch, gifts, sex, but limiting myself to one person
forever? One thing, or one place? I have too many memories of being trapped under waffle-knit sheets in a fluorescent-lit
room, hooked up to tubes and machines that kept me alive, unable to even get up to take a piss by myself. I never want to
feel that stuck again.
We say our goodbyes, and I haven’t even finished my next mouthful when the wooden chair opposite squeaks against the floor, and I find myself face to face for the second time today with a woman who refuses to take any of my shit.
‘Morning, sunshine,’ Jude says, sliding on to the seat with her breakfast, backlit against the floor-to-ceiling windows that
offer a glimpse of the ocean. Before I can reply, a draught hits us when the dining-hall door opens, and Jude nods over at
the new arrival and says, ‘I like her.’
Dylan approaches the buffet in a T-shirt and leggings, not a single strand out of place in her sleek ponytail. ‘So do I.’
But the fact is, I don’t know much about her yet, and I’m sure that’s by design. Her design. Earlier, when I checked on her after I heard a loud noise from the kitchen, there was a look on her face like she
was biting down on something. It made me wonder if she ever actually says what she’s thinking. Ever loses control.
Jude raises her hand to wave her over, and Dylan’s eyes settle on me for half a second before she lowers her gaze.