Chapter Thirty-Five
Thirty-Five
Stella knew something was off between her and Chelsea. What she didn’t know was what to do about it.
After Max left their apartment, Chelsea peppered Stella with questions about what they’d done the night before and if he’d be coming back. By all accounts, it seemed like Chelsea was excited for her, but Stella couldn’t shake the feeling that it was forced. An act.
Stella wanted to believe it was because this was the first time she was the one who actually had something interesting happening in her dating life rather than the other way around.
This was a role reversal neither of them was used to, and it was to be expected that there would be some growing pains.
Still, it didn’t ease the feeling that something between them wasn’t right anymore. It was why she practically shoved Max out the door. As soon as she saw Chelsea, Stella felt on edge. Stella knew she shouldn’t feel that way about her best friend.
However, rather than deal with it, Stella continued to avoid the problem in the hopes that the issue would somehow resolve itself over time.
She knew that was childish, but it wasn’t like Chelsea was acknowledging the weirdness between them either, although maybe she truly didn’t think anything had changed.
Regardless, not having to go to work because she’d finished Sprint Week made avoiding Chelsea a bit harder with them both home at the same time, but Stella tried her best. After debriefing about Max, they ordered lunch and watched a movie, and then Stella said she had to do laundry, which was true, and left for the Laundromat down the street.
Losing herself in a book while her clothes washed and dried, it took Stella’s phone vibrating a few times before she noticed she was getting a call.
It was Max.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hey, are you busy?”
Stella looked around the Laundromat, which was fairly empty because it was the middle of the workday.
“Not really. I’m just doing my laundry,” she said.
“Do you need help?”
“You want to help me with my laundry?”
Stella was sure the disbelief was evident in her voice, but she couldn’t hide her surprise. She didn’t even want to do her own laundry, much less help someone else with theirs.
Max chuckled. “I want to see you. If doing laundry is how I get to do so, I’m okay with that.”
“As much as I appreciate the offer, you were just here this morning. I can’t make you come all the way back to Brooklyn in one day.”
“What if I told you I was still in Brooklyn?” he said. “Would that absolve your conscience?”
“You didn’t go to work?”
“I’d already called out for the day,” he said. “So I’m free as a bird, as much as I can be anyway. I may have answered some emails here and there.”
Stella smiled. She felt a little silly for wanting to see him again so soon, but it was nice to know he wanted to see her again, too. And she really hated doing her laundry, so having an extra pair of hands to get through it faster would be nice.
“Okay, I can drop a pin for my location,” she said.
“You’re not in your building?”
“Nope, I’m at the Laundromat,” she said. “There’s no laundry in our building, unfortunately.”
It occurred to Stella once again how different their lives were. Max was adopted, but she wondered if he’d ever known, or at least remembered, a time when he didn’t have everything he ever needed right at his fingertips.
Maybe she should ask him.
“Ah, understood,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “Send me your pin, and I’ll be there soon.”
“So where were you?”
Stella asked the question as they began folding her clothes.
She’d wondered if letting Max see all of her underwear, including the old pairs she held on to for her period days, was a good idea, but when he arrived, she was pulling her things out of the dryers and he jumped right in to helping before she could stop him.
“Well, first I went and got me some clothes,” he said, gesturing down to himself.
Instead of the wrinkled clothes from the night before he’d left Stella’s apartment in, Max was now wearing Nike sweatpants, a long-sleeved Nike tee, and sneakers.
“The Nike store?” Stella asked.
Max snapped his fingers. “You guessed it. I went to grab breakfast at a diner after that and stuck around there for a bit to explore. I rarely make it down here these days so I went to the library by the park—”
“Oh, the Central Library? That’s my favorite,” Stella said.
He passed her a pile of folded clothes, and she slipped them into her laundry bag as he continued.
“Right again,” he said. “It was huge. I don’t think I knew it was that big.”
“Yeah, it’s incredible, and they’re always having events there,” she said. “Did you go to the museum? It’s right down the block.”
“I did not make it there,” he said. “I kind of got lost in the library.”
Stella glanced over at him. “Nerd.”
Max only laughed as he continued folding. They fell into a content silence as they worked, and it was a moment before Stella found the courage to speak again.
“Could I ask you a maybe personal question?”
Max looked over at her as he passed her more folded clothes.
“Sure, ask away.”
Stella took the clothes from him, pushing them down into the bag so she wouldn’t have to look at him as she asked, “What was your life like before you were adopted?”
There was only so long Stella could pretend to fiddle with the laundry bag, so she looked over at him as she waited for his answer. His hands had paused their folding, and at first she didn’t think he’d say anything at all, but then his hands began moving again and he spoke.
“It was good,” he said. “Very…different. From what I remember, which isn’t much.”
“How old were you when you got adopted?”
“Seven,” he said. After a beat he said, “Miles was only four.”
Stella had pushed Miles so far out of her mind when it came to his relationship to Max that it took her a second to remember who he was.
“What happened?” Stella asked. “That led to you being adopted, I mean.”
Max sighed and closed his eyes, his body tensing in a way she hadn’t seen before.
“Sorry, you don’t have to tell me,” she said quickly. “I don’t know why I asked.”
“No,” Max said. He put down the sweater he’d been holding and faced her.
“I’m glad you asked. Most people either already know my story because they’ve been in my life for so long or they googled me.
I haven’t actually told this story in years.
Most of the time, I don’t even think about it if I can help it.
“But I want to tell you.” He looked around the Laundromat, which had begun filling up with people, and added, “Though maybe not here. Why don’t we finish this, drop off your clothes, and I take you out to dinner?”
Stella nodded. “I’d like that.”