by Doe, Anna B.
He’s been working a lot since we moved here. Well, longer days than normal. We’ve been used to him not being around much, with him being a doctor and all, but it seems like since coming to Greyford he’s been working crazy long hours, and with Mom gone most of the time, it was just Jeanette and me.
“Just need to get some fresh air.”
He looks skeptically through the window at the snow slowly falling. Running one hand over his face, he says, “Just be careful.”
“Will do.”
Dad bends down to pick up his briefcase as I put on my jacket.
“Anybody home?” He grabs his phone out of his pocket.
“Jeanette’s out with her friends. And Mom’s at one or another of her things. I’m not sure.”
He nods his head, still immersed in whatever's happening on his phone. “Right, I forgot. I think I’ll just crash in bed. Last night was brutal. See you in the morning?”
“Sure.” I stash my stuff in my pockets and pick up my gloves.
He turns around to leave but stops. “Oh, and Max? Please don’t forget about the Christmas charity event we’re attending. You know how much it means to your mother.”
“Right. Don’t worry; we’ll be there, Dad.”
“Okay. Night.”
“Night.”
* * *
“I thought you gave up on your stalking tendencies, Sanders.”
I chuckle, hurrying my steps to catch up to her. Brook didn’t even turn around, yet she knew I was there. Either I was that bad at “stalking”, as she liked to call it, or she had some super sensitive ninja abilities.
“I think I like the term ‘watching your back’ better. Stalking sounds invasive.”
“Then it sounds about correct.”
“Well, maybe I wouldn’t need to stalk you if you’d check your phone every once in a while.”
“I was working.” Brook shrugs, her little shoulders lifting beneath that too-big leather jacket.
Why the fuck is she wearing that thing in the middle of December in Michigan anyway? Yes, I can see a sweater peeking from underneath it, and there is a big fluffy scarf around her neck and shoulders, but just the idea of it is making me shiver to my bones. It’s freezing outside, and people are saying it’ll only get worse as winter continues. Even now, the snow is falling from the dark sky, and I can feel my cheeks burn from the cold.
Stuffing my hands deeper into my pockets, I ask, “Why do you even work in that dump?”
Although her back is turned toward me, obscuring her face, I can see her whole body stiffen at my words.
“Not all of us have rich daddies who’ll pay for our allowance,” she throws over her shoulder without stopping. “Some of us have to actually work if we want to… you know, live?”
Stopping in my tracks, I tilt my head back. Will I ever say something that won’t piss her off? Why is it that every time I think we’re moving forward, something happens to push us apart?
Rubbing my gloved hand over my face, I groan out loud. “Brook, I’m sorry.”
But of course, she doesn’t stay to listen. No, she’s rushing down the street putting that distance between us back in place.
“Brook, wait!” I run after her, almost slipping on the ice. I curse, regaining my balance, and manage to catch up to her in record time. Wrapping my hand around her wrist, I pull her back. Her body crashes into mine, the top of her head coming right underneath my chin. Frustrated, I puff out a breath, little white clouds coming out of my mouth.
“That was a dick thing to say.” I lean my chin on top of her head. “I’m sorry.”
The quiet descends upon us. It would almost be peaceful if it weren’t for this ever-growing tension between us. Her body is stiff against mine, both of us facing forward, but she doesn’t try to break out of my touch and run away again, so I take that as a blessing.
“What do you want, Max?” she sighs, breaking the silence.
“You didn’t answer my texts.” I shrug, although I know she can’t see me. “I saw you leave school with Lia and Jeanette. And after what happened…”
“Nothing happened!” Brook protests, stomping her foot. “I don’t see why everybody is making such a big deal about it.”
Her words make my gut clench, but I push down the lump rising in my throat. Loosening my grip on her wrist, I let it slide down until her hand is clasped in mine.
“For somebody who considers herself smart, sometimes you’re pretty clueless.”
“I’m just stating the facts.”
“Or ignoring the obvious.”
“Max…”
Brook tries to pull away, but I don’t let her slip through my fingers. Literally.
“Okay. Okay.”
She looks over her shoulder, green eyes pleading with me. “Friends, remember?”
I swallow hard. Looking at her, close like she is, makes it hard to concentrate.
Hard to breathe.
“I remember everything,” I rasp softly.
Every word. Every touch. Every kiss. And she knows it; I don’t have to say it out loud for her to understand me. No matter how hard I try to forget, the memories keep pushing back to the surface, back to my mind.
Brook wants me to be a good little boy and follow her rules, and any other time I’d listen, but something about her wakes up a rebel in me, and he wants to break them all.
Her eyes fall shut, a frown marring her forehead.
“W-we…” Her voice is wobbly as she tries to say the words, but she doesn’t have to finish for me to know what she wants to say. She’s said it enough times already.
“Don’t.” I press my finger against her lips. Green eyes grow impossibly wide as she stares at me. Her mouth parts slightly under my touch, her hot breath tickling my skin, her lips soft and plump.
Brook nods, her lips pressing in a tight line.
I do the same, reluctantly pulling my hand away, but not far. Not breaking our eye contact, I extend my hand between us. “Let me walk you home?”
She nibbles at her lip, sucking the flesh between her teeth only to let it slowly pop out, rosy and glistening.
Slowly, she lifts her free hand and puts it in mine. My gaze falls down, looking at her much smaller and delicate hand in my palm, and for the first time, I notice she isn’t wearing any gloves. Her fingers are tense, knuckles red and raw.
Cursing under my breath, I take off my gloves and put them on her hands. The reproach is on the tip of my tongue, but somehow I manage to swallow it down. Clasping my hand over hers, I put them both inside my pocket as we slowly start to walk toward her house.
The walk is short, too short, but at least we spend it in comfortable silence. The snow keeps falling slowly, sticking to the ground. Brook almost slips a couple of times, but my hold on her keeps her from falling.
Once we’re there I can’t seem to let her go. I stop in my tracks, but she doesn’t notice until my hand tugs on hers, still clasped in mine.
She turns around, looking at me with confusion written all over her face. “What’s wrong?”
“I…” I swallow, but no words come to mind.
What the fuck are you doing, Sanders? Get a grip!
“Max?”
Finally, I shake my head. “It’s nothing. I just got lost in my thoughts.”
We keep moving toward her building, but then I see the door open. A big figure walks out, stopping outside the door. Without thinking too much, I pull her behind me.
“Ouch.” Brook pulls her hand out of mine, and this time I let her. I’m too concentrated at looking at the guy leaving her building. “If you don’t stop doing this, you’ll dislocate my shoulder.”
“Shh…”
Brook peeks around me. “Don’t you try to shh me, Maximillian Sanders, or…” I cover her mouth with my hand, muffling the rest of her sentence.
“There’s some guy exiting your building,” I whisper, looking at him through narrow eyes.
The guy’s tall, his wide shoulders covered
with a coat. He stands for a second at the door, looking left and right, before he finally descends the rest of the way.
The streetlights are shitty in this part of town, making it hard to clearly see his face, but…
“Hey, isn’t that Andrew’s dad?”
Chapter Twenty
BROOK
Putting on my boots by the front door, I can’t help but sneak a peek at the sleeping form on the couch in the living room. The empty bottle of vodka left forgotten on the floor by the couch.
It couldn’t be… could it? She wouldn’t be so crazy as to blackmail…
Shaking my head to clear my mind, I get to my feet.
No matter how much I tried to play it off, Max’s question has been haunting me since last night. Was he right? We barely got a glimpse of the guy. I tried to patch those little pieces of the man leaving my building and fighting with Josephine with the guy from the hockey game a few weeks back, but seriously, it could have been any other tall, well-dressed man. Still, I made Max promise not to say anything about this to anybody.
She wouldn’t be blackmailing someone as high profile as Andrew’s father.
But of course, she would. Josephine would blackmail the president of the United States of America if she thought she would get what she needs and could get away with it. The only question is, what does she have on him?
I would have confronted her, but when I got to our apartment, it was empty. Josephine must have slipped out soon after the man left. It’s not like I could have done anything about it. I had to make sure that Max wouldn’t say a word about this to anybody. I never talked about my life for a reason, and I wasn’t about to start now.
Giving passed-out Josephine one final look, I put on my jacket and scarf and walk out. There is no sense in trying to wake her up now, and I have more pressing things to do. Figuring out what the hell my mother is up to will have to wait. I can only hope it’s not too late once I get a chance to face her.
* * *
“So I was thinking that for Christmas we could…” Lia loops her arm with mine as we walk down the busy school hallway. Or in Lia’s case, skip. Yes, she actually skips. Lia is a Mrs. Claus to my Grinch.
You can feel the holiday vibe in the air, and with classes wrapping up next week, Lia’s buzzing with energy and now I have to break her bubble.
“Ehh…” I cringe. “I don’t think I’ll make it this year.”
She stops in her tracks, pulling me to a halt too. My shoulder, the same one Max tugged yesterday, aches in protest, making me grimace. Do they really want to pull out my arm or what?
“What do you mean, you’re not going to make it this year?” Lia frowns in confusion.
Tugging my hand out of her hold, I rub at the sore spot. “I’ll be busy.”
Brown eyes narrow at me. “Doing what exactly? It’s Christmas!”
“Well…” I start, but Lia doesn’t let me finish.
“Is this about Derek and his dad? Because if it is, stop it. You’re family, Brook. You have to be there. Mom and Dad are expecting you.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with Derek and his dad.” I sigh. This is harder than I expected.
Both of Derek’s parents work at the hospital, and this year his mom has to work during the holidays. They had their own Christmas celebration earlier and invited Lia to join them, so of course, Lia’s parents extended the invitation to Derek and his dad to join them on the actual holiday. I was happy for her. Lia and Derek haven’t been together that long, but they are serious. Everybody can see that, even their parents. If spending holidays together doesn’t scream “serious,” I don’t know what does. And no matter how much Lia insists that I’m family, I don’t want to intrude, not on something like this.
“Then what is it?” Lia’s shoulders slump. “It has to be something. Did I do…?”
“You didn’t do anything.” I step closer, putting my hand on her shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “There is a lot going on…”
“Like what?” Brown eyes plead with me to open up and tell her something, anything really. Swallowing the lump that formed in my throat, I shake my head.
“Just stuff.”
“Brook, if you’re in some kind of trouble…”
“I’m not. Really,” I reassure her quickly. “I picked up some shifts during the holidays to earn some extra cash. You know how my mother can get.”
“Is she drinking again?”
“That would imply her having stopped at some point,” I say dryly, waving her off. “So no. But she’s in one of her phases, and I need that money.”
“If you need…”
“No.” I grab her hands in mine to soften the harshness of my tone. This isn’t the first time either Lia or her parents offered to help out. I know it won’t be the last time either, but I can’t rely on them more than I already do. “You know I love you, but the answer is no.”
“You know the offer stands.” Her softly spoken words warm my heart.
“I know, just like you know I won’t accept it.”
“One day you’ll have to accept that there are people around you who you can trust and rely on, Brook. People you can open up to, and they won’t break your heart.”
I let go of her hands, chuckling lightly. It’s funny how she thinks I don’t open up to people when at the same time, I think I’ve given too many pieces of myself to those around me. So much there is barely anything left.
“They already have.”
* * *
MAX
“How bad is it?” I try to peek at the paper Brook’s reading, but she pulls it away and out of my reach, humming quietly.
I groan. Leaning against the wall behind me, I tilt my head back and look at the ceiling.
My history class has been driving me crazy. No matter how long or how hard I tried to study, nothing, and I mean nothing stayed in my brain.
I must have sighed one too many times, because one morning Brook left whatever she’d been working on to sit opposite me and help me make notes that actually made sense to me instead of driving me to the point of pulling out my own hair.
I’m just not cut out for this. Give me a pair of skates any day of the week, and no matter how difficult a challenge or opponent, I’ll give my best to conquer it. But studying? That’s a completely different story.
Even with all of Brook’s help, I’m not sure I’m going to pass this exam. And I need to do it, my grades are slightly better, but that is barely enough to keep me eligible to play. If I didn’t pass this one I’ll have Coach at my throat again, and I wasn’t sure I’d be as lucky this time as I was the last. With the season progressing as it is, the last thing I needed was to be benched because I couldn’t get my shitty grades in order.
Brook scribbles something down, and I can feel my stomach roll with nerves. Since the exam is tomorrow, she wants me to take a practice test to get a feel for how it’ll all look. But she also insisted it’d be good to practice my writing. I didn’t even want to ask what she meant by that.
“You can tell me; I’m a big boy. Besides, it’s not the first time I failed an exam.” I run my fingers through my hair to keep them busy. “At least this one is practice so it’s not like…”
“You’re ready,” Brook cuts me off mid-sentence.
“I… what?” My mouth hangs open.
Writing down a few more words, she lifts her head to look at me. “You’re ready, Max.”
“Really?” I sound skeptical even to my own ears.
“You got an 82.” A smile curls her lips, and I can feel my eyes pop out.
An 82? Me?
“Are you sure?” I grab the exam she’s still holding.
She has to be wrong. I don’t remember the last time I got a score that high in history. Hell, in anything. While my math was decent enough, everything else was a constant shit storm.
I look at the exam in my hand. It takes me a few seconds before the mess of letters starts to make any sense. My handwriting is hor
rible to the point I wonder how she can even understand it.
I scan over the answers, noting a red mark here and there in Brook’s neat, curvy writing correcting some of the grammar. But the answers… they’re actually correct.
Once I get to the end, my hands fall to my lap. I lift my gaze to look at Brook, who’s been waiting patiently for me to finish reading the test. She is still smiling, a twinkling light shining in her green irises. “You were right.”
“Of course I was.” Her smile widens even more.
“I got an 82.”
“You did. You can do this, Max. There is more to you than a hockey player.”
The exam, now lying in my lap, draws my attention. I look down once again, still not believing it. But the more I look, the more real it seems.
Brook’s words ring in my ears on repeat, as a smile slowly spreads on my lips.
“I can do this.”
Chapter Twenty-One
MAX
“Later!” I yell over my shoulder to the few guys I know before hurrying out of the classroom. My heart beats wildly in my chest, my sweaty palms gripping the paper in my hand.
The hallway is crowded. And as I try to break through the mass, my classmates greet me; girls flirting, boys wanting to discuss upcoming games, but I ignore them all because my mind is set on finding one person and one person only.
With my free hand, I dig my phone out of my pocket, but the only thing that greets me when I light the screen is my unanswered message.
Where are you?
What the hell is it with this girl and not answering her phone?
Disappointment washes over me, but I push it away almost as quickly. Then again, this is Brook we’re talking about. The girl probably has the oldest phone known to man. I’m surprised it’s even working.
I guess I’ll just have to find her myself.
Turning the corner, I try to think of where she might be. It’s midday, and although she loves to spend as much time in the art room as possible, she usually does it before or after classes. During the day, she’s normally hiding in the library. I’m about to change my direction when a flash of red catches my eye.