Chapter Twenty-Two Max #2
“I’m sorry about your dad,” she said. Max’s heart ran intermittent sprints in his chest, racing and calming in endless cycles. “And for everything I’ve done this semester that contributed to any extra stress, either directly or indirectly. I didn’t know.”
He shrugged, dangling his can between his knees. “I wanted it that way.”
Her head tilted as she studied him. He remembered that look, her focused intensity. “Does it bother you? Me knowing now?”
He shook his head, and the truth took him by surprise. “If anything, it probably helps my cause. Now you know why I’m such an asshole.”
“What’s my excuse, then?” There was a teasing, melodic note to her voice. She licked her lips, leaned a hand behind her and stretched out. She was practically lying on the roof. Her socked foot brushed his tennis shoe.
Carefully, he stretched out too. Coach expressly forbade any and all stupid shenanigans during the season, and roof sitting topped that list. He bumped his shoe to her ankle. “You tell me.”
“My parents are—” she rolled her eyes “—not really fun to be around right now. Which is fine. I’m sure I’d be grumpy if I was splitting my life in half too. Nobody gets married thinking divorce is an option.”
“You don’t have to be cordial with me. You never have before.”
“Then it sucks,” she said. She lifted her hand toward the backyard at large.
“It really sucks that they say I can tell them anything and every time I try, they make it about themselves. Or the other person. And before I know it, they’ve sent me off with a message as a go-between without actually bothering to check what I needed in the first place.
” Her cheeks flushed, and her voice dropped low enough that he barely heard her.
“I. . . I told them I already had a loan for grad school, but I got denied, and I haven’t had a good opportunity to tell them.
They’re too busy griping about how their lives are falling apart to notice that mine is too.
Pursue Your Passions is, truly, my only shot. And yours.”
It was quiet, save for the subtle sounds of spring. Birds tucking in for the night, trees swaying, a dog barking in the distance.
Maybe there wasn’t a solution right now, but at least everything was out in the open. She wouldn’t need to hide in his locker again to steal his computer, then nearly end up on his lap.
Okay, so everything wasn’t out in the open. They still hadn’t discussed whatever that was.
Before he could decide if he wanted to, Keely tapped his foot again. “Hey. We had an entire conversation and didn’t push each other off the roof. Does that mean we’re friends or something?”
“Friends,” he murmured. “We used to be pretty good at that.”
The night was almost entirely indigo now, light spilling out from her bedroom and casting a halo around her silhouette. “We could try it again?” Keely said. “Since we’re both so much older and wiser.”
“You forgot more attractive.”
Her laugh echoed out into the silence. “I said what I said.”
Max was having a surprisingly good time, but he needed to head home to prep for yet another night at the hospital. Just because his dad couldn’t come home didn’t mean they couldn’t eke out every possible second together.
They crawled back through Keely’s window and, as she replaced the screen, he eyed the mess again with—he could admit now—pure judgment. “You have a lot of crap, Key.”
She groaned, latching the window back. “Please don’t remind me. I need to get all of this back to campus somehow, but my car was acting weird. I rode the bus here.” White-hot panic shot through his bloodstream. The bus? She’d taken that crumbling cesspool of public transportation?
“Everything I want to keep,” she continued, “I have to take back to campus with me. As far as getting it there. . .” She sighed, flipped one of the cardboard box lids. “How much do you think it’d take to ship all this? A few hundred?”
“I’ll give you a ride,” he said, and Keely froze with her hand inside the box.
“That sounds like a horrible idea. We’ll kill each other before we make it to the highway.”
“Friends don’t kill their friends, Keely.” At least, he didn’t think so. It’d been a long time since he’d had one. Maybe the rules had changed. “You said it yourself. I could have just as easily pushed you off the roof, and I didn’t. Doesn’t that count for something?”
She still didn’t look like she trusted him, which, how could he blame her? All they’d done for weeks was figure out ways to sabotage each other.
“I’ll let you control the radio,” he enticed. “And you can share your location with whoever. Zoey or—or Sam. Whatever you need to feel in control of the situation. I know how much you like control.”
Her eyebrows tipped up.
He rolled his eyes. “Not like that.” He thought about it for a second, all he’d allow himself. Okay, maybe a little like that.
She pressed her lips together, but the color just fled to her temples. Then she crossed her arms, cocking her head to the side. “Whatever I need?”
Max already regretted this very, very much.
· · · · ·
Max and Keely pulled out of her driveway bright and early the morning they were due back on campus.
He’d had a great week spending time with his family, especially his dad.
But seeing him so frail made Max anxious to kick his training into gear.
Tackle the hurdles again. Act like a teammate for once.
He had to prove to his father that all his sacrifices—the time passed and money spent and dreams tucked away—were worth something to Max. He wouldn’t waste the opportunity. The medals were right there. His name was practically already on the inscription.
“Jesus, Max.” In the passenger seat, Keely’s knuckles were bone white around the handle. “Slow down. Cops are insane through here.”
He let off the gas.
“Thank you,” she said primly, and in his periphery, her hand fell away. “Where’s the fire?”
Max shifted, trying and failing to roll out the tension in his shoulders. “I just—wanna get back to campus, I guess. Every time I see my dad, I. . .”
“He inspires you,” she offered.
If he was being honest, he was still getting used to talking with her like this. Having so much of what he usually kept private on full display for her. She had an X-ray view of all the bones that constructed his skeleton. Now she knew exactly how to break him.
“Yeah,” he said. “The running stuff I can fix in my sleep—”
“Humble,” she blew between her teeth.
“But I’m still worried about my grades. I meant to set up an appointment with the tutoring center before I left but I got, uh, distracted.” He left out the part where she was the distraction.
A noise of understanding floated to him, and when he spared a glance at his passenger, she was gazing out the window, lost in thought. Figuring she was done being civil, he reached for the volume knob to turn up the music.
Her hand shot out, wrapping around his wrist.
Electricity sparked along his skin and the car jerked to the edge of the lane.
Keely snatched her hand back. “Sorry, I was just—”
“My fault,” he grunted.
She let out a soft sound, almost like a moan, and Max resorted to counting the lines on the highway to stop imagining that noise in other scenarios.
“I could—I could tutor you.”
He wrenched the wheel, and after a small squeak from Keely, reduced his speed again. Then set the cruise control. Just to be safe.
“You? Tutor me? What’s the catch?” Because there had to be one. He knew her too well by now. Reciprocation and retaliation were how they evened the score between them. He pushed, she pushed back harder. Maybe that’s what the shock was whenever they touched: friction.
They were bound to start a fire any day now.
“I need help with my essay,” she finally admitted, and there was so much shame coloring her words he thought he’d misheard her for a second. “Dr. Goff says it’s what’s holding back my application. I can’t get it right.”
This quirked his eyebrow. “What does she say is wrong with it?”
“Passion,” Keely muttered, as flat and monotone as possible. “I don’t have it.”
He found that difficult to believe. He’d seen her face light up when she was explaining quantum mechanics to first graders.
This was another one of their push-and-pulls. Max was vulnerable; Keely was vulnerable back.
Which meant he really didn’t have any other options.
“Sure,” he said. “I can help you.” Another thought had a smile tugging at his mouth. “Does this mean the prank war is over?”
She ran her hands over her thighs before clasping them politely in her lap. “I’m sure the person most deserving will win fair and square.”
Max glanced at her, a grin lifting his mouth. “Do you mean that this time?”
Keely smiled back, and his heart took off in a sprint. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
From: Max Simmons ([email protected])
To: Keely Sinclair ([email protected])
Date: Sunday, March 15
Subject: essay
Just ask next time. My locker still smells like peppermints and it’s been over a week since you were in there.
PS: This is too formal. Text me. My number’s in my sig.
Attached: pursueyourpassions_essay
From: Keely Sinclair ([email protected])
To: Max Simmons ([email protected])
Date: Sunday, March 15
Re: essay
The aroma of peppermint promotes focus and concentration, reduces headaches, and soothes upset stomachs.
PS: thank you for the ride back.
From: Max Simmons ([email protected])
To: Keely Sinclair ([email protected])
Date: Sunday, March 15
Re: Re: essay
Does your tummy hurt all the time? Might want to get that looked at.
PS: you can thank me by TEXTING ME. seriously. I have a big assignment in motor development and I’m totally lost on where to start.
From: Keely Sinclair ([email protected])
To: Max Simmons ([email protected])
Date: Sunday, March 15
Re: Re: Re: essay
Thank you so much for the link. I went ahead and signed you up for a men’s health screening, which should not take the place of your monthly testicular checks, by the way!
PS: texting you now.
Keely
I’ll have you know I have a
perfectly normal stomach. I
mainly use peppermint to stay
awake after I’ve exceeded
my daily caffeine limit
Max
And I’ll have *you* know I have
a perfectly normal prostate
Keely
But how do you actually know,
Max? Do a lot of self-exploration?
Max
Don’t sound so surprised.
Figured you were used to
backdoor action, since you
usually have that stick up yours
Keely
. . .
Keely
What’s the assignment?
Max
Meet me at the library. It’s
easier to explain in person.
Keely
Tomorrow around 3:30?
Max
4? I have physiotherapy until then.
Keely
See you there. with coffee I hope?
Max
. . .
Max
I’ll see what I can do