“Looks like Sian’s done a good job,” Kyle said as she waved and hurried over.
“Yeah, it was a great idea getting her to let people in.” Tony patted him on the back. “Don’t want to upset the neighbors by having everyone hanging around outside.”
Rick gaped at him. Tony was serious. Surely the number of vehicles surrounding their place, not to mention the volume of their music, should have also been a concern to him. They must be the worst neighbors ever. He was thankful he lived in a quiet cul-de-sac across town.
“I can’t believe their folks let them do this,” Rick said in a low voice to Pete.
Pete laughed, but there was a sadness to it. “Na, it’s just them. Their mom left when they were small, and their dad fucked off to Florida four years back, left them to it once Tony hit eighteen.”
“Are you serious?” Rick’s jaw dropped a little farther. Had their dad seriously left them the house? And when Max would’ve only been sixteen. That couldn’t have been easy for them. “They’re all on their own here?”
“Yeah, it’s become the ultimate party house. Come on.” He beckoned Rick to follow as he headed toward the steps. “Should be a good night.”
Rick followed him into the drab hallway. The wallpaper looked as though it had been peeling for decades, but he guessed it made sense that with parties like this, it was a waste of time fixing it. A track of scuffed floorboards led first to a staircase that went upstairs, and at the end of the hall was another staircase that led down to the basement. There was a lot of muffled laughter coming from downstairs.
“Pete, where’s the bathroom?”
“There’s a half bath downstairs, but you’re best off going to the bathroom upstairs. It’ll be quieter. They won’t mind.”
“Okay, where shall I meet you?”
“I’ll be down in the kitchen,” Pete said. “That’s where they’ve stashed the drinks.”
Rick climbed the staircase and stopped as he reached the top to peer into the doorway to his right. The door was ajar, and even with that small glimpse, he could see that the room was a complete mess. He pressed the door and it swung open. Max was lying on a large bed in the center with his arm draped across his face and a tequila bottle on the black pillow next to him. Great, of all the doors he could’ve picked. He hoped Max didn’t think he was stalking him. Max dropped his arm to his chest and stared at Rick, letting out a disgruntled huff before allowing his head to fall back and staring at the whirring ceiling fan.
“Uh, sorry. I was looking for the bathroom.”
“End of the hall.”
“Thanks.” Rick turned to leave.
“It’s not usually like this.”
“Excuse me?” He looked back at Max.
“My bedroom. It’s not usually in this state.” Max shifted so he was sitting up with his back against the wall. “I didn’t get a chance to unpack.”
Rick leaned against the doorjamb and scanned the disaster zone that was Max’s bedroom. There were black clothes scattered everywhere, the Indian-style rugs barely visible beneath. Haphazard stacks of old vinyl lined the wall under the window at the front of the house, and to Rick’s left was a desk piled high with notebooks. “You’ve been away a long time. It takes a while to get settled.”
“I guess.”
“It must feel good to be back in your own bed.”
“I’ll have to let you know about that. Haven’t slept in it yet.” Max opened the tequila bottle and took a drink. “Want some?” He held out the bottle, and more than anything, Rick wanted to take it, but touching that would have him passed out before midnight—not a good look.
“Thanks, but I’m okay.”
“Suit yourself.” Max took another drink and sighed, slouching down and closing his eyes for a long moment.
Rick took that as his cue to leave. When he walked past on his way back from the bathroom, Max’s door was closed and he was nowhere to be seen. There was a keypad on the door—that had to be a wise move when it looked like they had all-night parties every day of the week. Rick followed the ear-blasting music down to the kitchen, where it was impossible to hear himself think, let alone talk to anyone, and yet a large group huddled in there seemed to manage by shouting at one another.
Tony was sitting on the kitchen table in the center of the smoke-hazed room, relaying what sounded like one of their tour anecdotes. There was an old washtub under the kitchen table that was filled with ice and bottles of beer, and spirits and soda were crammed onto the counters. These guys knew how to throw a party. Rick ducked to grab a beer and twisted off the cap.
There was a doorway leading off the kitchen, where people were streaming from, and with no sign of Pete in the kitchen, Rick made his way in there to look for him. He found himself in a large, crowded lounge. But there was still no sign of Pete. He was beginning to wish he’d made an effort to dress in black. He was getting some disapproving looks from the metalheads and goths, and he was pretty sure he was being discussed by a few of them.
It was a little unsettling being there and not knowing anyone—feeling like a complete outsider. If this was going to become a habit, he was going to have to invest in a pair of black jeans, and maybe he could wear his biker boots and leather jacket next time. At least that way he wouldn’t completely stand out. He tried to shrink into a corner, which was difficult at six foot two, and sipped at his beer.
Rick heard Max before he saw him, even above the music. When Max poked his head into the lounge and did a quick scan, Rick expected him to leave or to speak to someone else, but after pausing for a moment, Max walked right up to him. His stomach was doing little flips, and Rick sighed, trying his best to ignore it.
“Having fun?” Max asked as he approached. His tequila bottle was half-empty already, and yet he didn’t appear to be affected by it.
“Yeah, I don’t know where Pete got to.” Rick took a swig of his beer.
“Best not to ask,” Max said. “Ready for something stronger?” He tried to hand him the tequila bottle again.
“No, I’m good. Thanks, though. I’m not a big drinker.”
Max huffed a laugh.
“Alien concept?”
“What gave you that idea?” Max took another gulp of his drink. Something seemed to catch his eye, and he waved. “Jade, over here.” As Rick looked toward the door to the kitchen, he groaned. This could not be happening. “Jade, this is—”
“Rick?” Jade looked at him in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“You two know each other?”
“Um, yeah, kind of,” Rick said, recalling their occasional hookups. “Small world, huh?”
“Yeah, wow.” Jade snaked her slender arm around Max’s waist. “I guess you must’ve finished studying now?”
“Yeah, just finished. You?”
“Last year. I’m working here in Elfinbrook now.”
“How do you two know each other?” Max asked, frowning.
“College over in Leatherton when I was doing my hairdressing course,” Jade said. “Our classes were in the same building.”
“Right.”
“Oh, and we went out a couple of times.”
Rick cringed. Thanks, Jade.
Max’s expression froze for a second. “What?”
“Yeah, nothing serious, though, right, Rick? Don’t worry, sweetie, I think we got it out of our systems. I’m all yours when you decide to give me a chance.”
“I thought—”
“I’ve got a thing for blonds.” Jade laughed and ruffled her hand through Max’s hair. “Although this one keeps turning me down and pretending he’s not interested.”
“You’re my best friend’s sister. There’s no way I’m going there. Do you know how much stick Sian would give me?”
“One day you’ll give in to my charms,” Jade said and hugged him. “Make sure you drink plenty, sweetie. You deserve it after putting up with that lot on tour. See you around, Rick.”
“Yeah, bye, Jade.”
> “You and Jade, huh?” Max said finally.
“She’s a sweet girl.”
“What happened to you liking guys?”
“I like guys too. I’m bi.”
“Right.”
Rick tried to hold back a smile and failed. “Is that a problem?”
“I have no reason to care who you sleep with.”
Rick took a swig of beer, giving him the courage he needed to push a little more. “Pete was right about you.”
“How’s that?” Max frowned.
Their eyes locked, and despite his effort to ignore it, a spark of desire rocketed through him. Rick grinned. “That you have a sexy ass.”
Max rolled his eyes and glanced around nervously. “He did not say that. That’s totally gross. Pete’s like family.”
Rick waited until Max looked at him again. “No, you’re right. Doesn’t make it any less true, though.”
“Are you always like this?”
“Like what?”
Max tugged at the label on his bottle. “Confident, I guess.”
“Life’s too short, right?”
“Right. Listen, I have to go see if my girlfriends are here yet.”
“Sure, I’ll see you later.”
Damn it, he should have known that was pushing too hard. And that Max would be in some sort of relationship. Flirting with Max was definitely out of the question; he knew that now. He just hoped he’d get a chance to see Max again later, that it hadn’t destroyed any chances of friendship with him.
CHAPTER THREE
Max
MAX HAD no intention of trying to find Zoe and Lisa; in fact, they were the last people he wanted to see. He shimmied through the crowded kitchen, jogged upstairs, and pushed open the flimsy back door to the yard.
Sandy, barren flowerbeds and overgrown hardy bushes followed the perimeter of the yard, and numerous abandoned chairs blocked the end of the long pathway that led to the garage and the large barbecue smoker beyond that. Like Pete, neither Max nor his housemates had discovered a love of gardening.
Slumping on a weathered chair, Max lit a cigarette and inhaled. He swung the half-empty tequila bottle between his legs, and the swell of golden liquid sloshed against the glass. It was peaceful out there on his own—despite the booming music and occasional shriek coming from the house. A rare cool breeze blew strands of hair across his face, and he scraped it from his eyes as he contemplated the shitstorm that was his life. Pushing Rick away was like a reflex, a survival instinct; yet each time he had turned him down, another small piece inside of him had fallen away into a chasm, leaving him even hollower than before.
The back door creaked open, and the other members of Purple Method and Sian emerged. Max took another drag from his cigarette and idly looked up at them.
“It’s getting too crowded in there,” Lee said. “Thought we’d hang in the garage for a bit. Coming?”
Max hauled himself out of the yard chair and waited as Tony fiddled with the stubborn garage door lock. It clicked open, and his brother barged his shoulder into the door, which was thick from soundproofing. Kyle flicked on the light, and their small group piled in.
Tony’s drum kit lay in abandoned pieces near the entrance, a pile of guitar cases and the smaller amplifiers had been dumped farther back, and a huge tangle of leads lurked in a dark corner. Max guiltily remembered that he hadn’t hung about and given them a hand to unload the ambulance, but Lee didn’t seem to care now he had a strong drink in his hand.
They clambered over the obstacles, and Kyle slammed the door shut behind them.
“Someone help me get this lot sorted.” Tony lit a joint and grabbed the biggest drum case.
They all pitched in, and when everything was set up, Tony sat at his drum kit at the far end of the garage and played along with the heavy music thundering from the stereo, which was perched on an empty beer crate. Max lounged on a large, stained beanbag, swigging his tequila. With any luck, he’d be able to hide out there all night.
“You okay, babe?” Sian asked as she came over to sit next to Max on the beanbag. “You don’t seem quite yourself.”
Max gave her a slight smile. “Yeah, guess I’m a bit worn out from the early start this morning.”
“Kyle’s been flagging too.” She curled her legs behind her and accepted the joint from Lee. “He’d better sort it out. I haven’t seen him in two weeks since I came to your gig. He’s not getting to sleep early tonight.”
“I didn’t need to know that.” It was bad enough that he could hear them in the bedroom beneath his. They weren’t quiet at the best of times.
Sian chuckled. “I saw Lisa earlier, and she said she hasn’t seen you since before you went away. I didn’t realize it had been so long.”
“I wanted to focus on the tour, you know?”
“What’s going on, babe? You not into her anymore? You never said anything.”
“It’s fine. Just haven’t bumped into her or Zoe yet.”
“You’re avoiding them, you mean.”
“Fuck off, why would I avoid them?”
Sian scrunched up her face. “I don’t know, but something’s going on with you.”
“I’m tired, like I told you already.”
The door to the garage quivered and then flew open. A metalhead peered inside. “We were wondering where you guys got to. Mind if we come in?”
“Sure, come sit down,” Lee shouted at them. “And shut the door.”
Max groaned as a stream of people followed the guy in. They all found places to sit and chattered among themselves, occasionally striking up a conversation, when they dared, with the members of Purple Method. Luckily no one tried to talk to him.
“This party’s going lame,” Tony called out.
“We could play a drinking game?” Max suggested.
“Or spin the bottle?” said a pretty girl who Max recognized from the front row of the audience at the gig.
“I’m liking your idea,” Tony said, and she turned her attentions to him.
Max took a long drink of tequila and tossed the bottle into the center.
“Usual rules?” Tony asked, leaving his drum kit and joining them, sitting next to the girl.
“Of course,” Kyle said.
“And they are?” someone asked.
Tony and the girl suddenly stood. She giggled as he grabbed her hand, and they headed toward the door. “Don’t mind us,” he said as they left.
Kyle sighed and shook his head. “Mixed partners only. And if you don’t use tongues, it doesn’t count, and you have to do it again. Ready?”
Everyone nodded. Kyle spun, and the bottle rested pointing at Sian.
“That was convenient.” Max laughed. “You sure you didn’t fix that?”
“Shut up, it’s your bottle,” Sian said, giving him a nudge as she leaned forward to kiss her boyfriend.
Max watched with vague interest as the game unfolded, smoking the joint and relaxing back.
The door shuddered and flew open again. Cooler air dissipated the hazy smoke, and Pete, Rick, Jade, Angelo, Joe, and several other people Max vaguely knew, bundled in.
“So this is where the real party is. Might’ve guessed,” Pete slurred. He wobbled, and Rick helped him find a beanbag before he fell over. Great; so much for hiding out for a while.
“Brandon, you’re holding the game up,” Lee said to a guy with a blue mohawk and thick black eyeliner. “Go ahead and spin.”
“Awesome,” Angelo said. “Can we join in?”
“Wouldn’t have thought it would be your thing,” Max said, tugging at the loose piece of rubber on his boot. He hated behaving like this, but ribbing Angelo about his sexuality was an easy way to detract from his own.
“Ugh, you’re not using those same stupid rules as last time, are you? Don’t you think it’s about time you stopped being so narrow-minded?”
“Hey! I’m not narrow-minded.”
“Prove it,” Angelo challenged.
“I’m not pla
ying if we’re dropping the mixed-couple rule,” Brandon said. “There’s no way I’m kissing a guy. It’s disgusting.”
“This is stupid—” Kyle said.
“Okay, let’s get this sorted,” Lee said. “Anyone who doesn’t want to play with the new rules—”
“Babe,” Sian whispered, and Max turned his attention to her. “You know how you were saying you needed new boots? I was thinking of going downtown on Monday. Kyle’s going fishing with Lee up at Marigold Lake. I reckon it’s an excuse to avoid coming shopping, but still.” She sighed. “Will you take me?”
“Yeah, sure. Like you said, I could use some new boots.” He twanged the loose rubber. “We could make an afternoon of it.”
“And go for a drink afterward?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Everyone ready?” Lee asked as Kyle, Brandon, and a few others exited the garage.
Angelo spun the bottle, and Sian chattered about their shopping trip. Max nodded in all the right places, stealing glances at Rick, who was busy looking after Pete. It was unusual for Pete to be so drunk this early.
He began to wish he hadn’t donated his tequila bottle to the game. A small amount of drink sloshed inside, tormenting him each time the bottle spun. He hadn’t thought to bring any more alcohol out there with him.
Instead he took some tobacco out of one of his pockets and busied himself rolling another joint. The other one was taking far too long to come back around.
Max relaxed back with his eyes closed, smoking, when he noticed the room had quieted.
“This is going to be so hot,” Angelo said.
Max lazily opened his eyes. Everyone was staring at him. What the fuck? His gaze darted, and in the center of the room his treacherous bottle pointed at him. Rick shuffled forward. Panic erupted within him, and Max stared at the bottle for a long moment and then up at Rick. No way. This could not be happening.
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