“Are you coming?” Renee asked, nudging my arm with her tray. Startled, I took my eyes from Maxx to follow my roommate to a newly empty table. Thank god, no smelly frat guys.
I sipped on my water while Renee started eating her salad. I watched her as she cut up the lettuce into tiny pieces before putting them in her mouth.
“Does that make it taste any better?” I asked, eyeing her food skeptically. Renee gave me a look that said Shut up and let me eat.
In the lull of silence that followed, my eyes flitted across the room again. Maxx continued to stand beside the door, his arms crossed over his chest. He was leaning against the wall and looking relaxed. But even from here I could see the fine tension in his neck and shoulders. His jaw was rigid, and his eyes darted around the room, always moving, always looking.
His blond curls stuck out on top of his head as though he had been running his fingers through his hair. He wore a tattered and worn pair of jeans and a faded blue T-shirt. Without trying, he was still the best-looking person in the room. I hated how some individuals were born with the innate gift of looking awesome without putting forth any effort. It wasn’t fair for the rest of us average-looking folks.
He surreptitiously checked the time on his watch and then went back to leaning, ever so casually, against the wall. He kept his head down, purposefully not making eye contact, and it was for that reason alone that I knew he was up to something.
“You sure you don’t want anything to eat? You know you’ll be hungry as soon as we get back to the apartment,” Renee said, interrupting my stalkerish staring.
“I’ll be fine,” I responded dismissively. Renee’s lips pinched together.
I gave her a smile, albeit a forced one. “If I get hungry I’ll just raid your stash,” I joked, hoping tonight had allowed me to resume my attempts at teasing her.
Renee’s lips relaxed, and she smiled back. “I may have gotten you some of those buttered crackers you like. You know, just so you stop eating mine,” she added, and I tried not to look shocked. But damn, I hadn’t been expecting that.
They may seem like just crackers to you, but for Renee, that was a huge step. And it showed me, more than anything else, that she was trying to repair our broken friendship.
Who knew crackers could fill me with the warm fuzzies?
“Thanks,” I told her honestly, and this time my smile was easy and natural and bordering on ecstatic. I didn’t quite know what to do with all these olive branches she was tossing my way.
“I’m gonna go grab an apple,” she announced, getting to her feet. I leaned back in my chair and chugged the rest of my water. My eyes wandered back over to Maxx, and this time he was standing in front of the exit. He looked around and then quickly opened the door.
What the heck was he up to?
A young boy, probably no more than fifteen, slipped into the commons. Maxx put his hand on his shoulder and leaned down to speak to him. Maxx glanced around the room again before quickly depositing the boy at a table near the back, hidden in a dark corner.
I watched Maxx as he hurried to the dinner line and grabbed two trays, loading them up with food. Not knowing what possessed me, I got to my feet and followed him. I slipped into the line behind him, grabbing a tray, though not putting anything on it.
I really was taking this stalker thing to an extreme this evening.
When Maxx reached the front of the line, he scanned his card. Then he scanned it again. I watched as his mouth formed a thin line and his face flushed red as he swiped his ID card over and over again.
I peeked over his shoulder and read the machine. Insufficient funds. Maxx looked back toward the corner table, where he had left the boy. He picked up the trays and started to walk away with them.
The woman working behind the cash register called after him. “You can’t take that! You haven’t paid for it!” she yelled. Maxx stopped and looked around, realizing he suddenly had the attention of most of the people in the commons.
The smirking look of confidence that he typically wore was replaced by embarrassment and something that looked a lot like panic.
Before the woman could approach him, I stepped in front of her and held out my student ID card. “I’ll pay for it,” I said shortly, giving her my version of the stink eye. Hey, I could pull off intimidating when I wanted to.
Maxx, realizing I was there and had come to his rescue, looked ready to argue. I shot him a warning look and turned back to the lady, who had a nasty case of psoriasis and was obviously looking to wield what little bit of authority she had in her sorry life.
“You should just go ahead and swipe this. The line is getting pretty huge,” I commented dryly, daring her to argue with me.
Bitchy cafeteria lady grabbed my card with an indignant huff and quickly swiped it, practically shoving it back into my hand. “Thank you,” I called out sweetly, depositing my still-empty tray back on the stack.
Maxx hadn’t waited for me; he was already across the room. It’s not like I expected a thank-you or anything, but an acknowledgment of some type would have been nice. Clearly manners were a foreign concept to him.
I followed Maxx back to his table. He couldn’t get rid of me that easily. I was more than a little interested in the boy he had snuck into the commons, why he had loaded up the trays with enough food to feed an army, and why he couldn’t even look me in the eye after I had stepped in to help him.
I approached the table and could hear the young boy talking to Maxx in an excited voice. “Thanks, man. I’m starving!” he said sincerely. Looking at the frail boy with hollow cheeks and tired eyes, I knew that he meant it. He looked like he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in a while.
It was clear that he and Maxx were related in some way. They both had been graced with a head full of thick blond waves and the same blue bedroom eyes. But where Maxx was tall and broad, the younger boy was thin and slight, though it was hard to tell if that had more to do with diet and lifestyle than with genetics.
From the protective way Maxx interacted with him, as well as the clear family resemblance, I figured they were siblings. As I watched them, I recognized that almost-tender nurturing all too well. And I felt a moment of connection with Maxx that made my chest ache from missing my sister.
Maxx slid one full tray to the boy, who attacked the food as though he would never eat again. He smiled down at the younger boy in a way that made him even more attractive, something I hadn’t thought possible.
I hung back, blatantly eavesdropping.
“Why aren’t you eating at school?” Maxx asked.
The younger boy looked up with those blue eyes that were so much like Maxx’s and shook his head. “Uncle David hasn’t paid my overdue lunch charges in two months. Sometimes Cory will give me part of his lunch, but I feel, like . . . pathetic asking,” the boy said, shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth.
“What about food at the house? Can’t you make yourself a packed lunch?” Maxx asked, becoming more agitated.
The boy wouldn’t look at Maxx; he was too focused on filling his mouth with as much food as possible. “Yeah, if I want to bring cat food and beer for lunch,” he replied, drinking some of his soda.
Maxx’s brow furrowed, and I could tell he was angry. “I gave that asshole enough money to cover whatever you need for months. You’re telling me there’s no fucking food in the house? And you don’t have money to cover lunch at school? Where the fuck did it all go?” Maxx snarled, and the boy shrugged.
“He hasn’t been home in over a week. He probably went to Atlantic City again,” the boy said, seeming unconcerned even as his older brother seethed beside him.
Maxx smacked the table with his hand. “That money is for you! Not for him to dick around with! I swear, I’m gonna fucking kill that bastard!” Maxx’s voice rose, and he looked around to see if he had been overheard. And then his eyes fell on me.
Busted.
Maxx’s eyes met mine, and they narrowed in annoyance. Obviously he was not happ
y to see me.
I walked to stand next to the table and smiled down at the boy. I tried not to laugh at the way he was now staring up at me with his mouth hanging open. He had a smear of potatoes on his chin, and I thought about wiping it off. But I didn’t want to give the poor thing a heart attack if I touched him.
I turned back to Maxx, who was refusing to make eye contact, his head bowed down as though he found the table really interesting. I stared at the top of his curly head, willing him to look at me, but he was doing a great job of pretending I wasn’t there.
“How’s it going, Maxx?” I asked, pouring just enough sugar into my voice to be obnoxious.
Maxx’s shoulders stiffened, but he still refused to look up. He pushed some peas around on his plate. “Fine, thanks,” he said through gritted teeth. I knew without him having to say a word that it irked him that I had paid for their food. I got the distinct impression that Maxx was used to taking care of things and balked at the thought of accepting charity of any sort.
I hadn’t meant to make him feel like a charity case. But there was something in the way he had looked as he stood there—his trays full of food to feed his kid brother that he couldn’t pay for—that made me want to help him.
But I could tell my help hadn’t been wanted or appreciated.
I glanced at the younger boy, who was still staring at me with his mouth slightly agape. “Who’s this? Your brother?” I asked, giving the boy a 100-watt smile.
He grinned back and looked over at Maxx, who continued to stare holes into the table. His smile slipped a bit as he recognized his brother’s hostile demeanor. He looked from Maxx to me, as though trying to figure out the source of the tension.
“Uh, yeah, I’m Maxx’s younger brother, Landon. How do you know Maxx?” he asked, shoveling another mouthful of food into his mouth. Finally, Maxx’s eyes met mine and communicated an unspoken plea. His embarrassment and anger faded away, replaced by a request for me to stay silent.
It was obvious Maxx did not want Landon to know the particulars of how we knew each other. I could hazard a guess that Landon was completely ignorant of his older brother’s more unsavory extracurricular activities.
I cleared my throat. “We have a class together,” I lied, smiling at Landon, who beamed at me.
“Oh, yeah? Maxx is ridiculously smart. Like genius smart. You know he’s gonna be a doctor. He’s the only person in our family to go to college. Dad always said he’d be the one to cure cancer or something,” he informed me.
Maxx was clearly this kid’s hero—a hero with a drug problem that landed him on probation. He was an angel with one tarnished halo.
“Wow, I didn’t know that,” I said, glancing at Maxx, who seemed extremely uncomfortable as the focus of our conversation. Gone was the familiar smirking smile. This wasn’t a person putting on an act. This was a guy who wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. His brother sharing his adulation with me unnerved him.
“But I bet you’re just as smart as Maxx, if not smarter,” I told the younger boy, who looked ready to burst at the compliment.
“I wish,” he enthused, grinning at his older brother, who gave him a pained smile.
I stood there awkwardly for a few moments until it became very obvious that Maxx wasn’t going to make any attempts to further the conversation.
“It was nice meeting you, Landon. See you later, Maxx,” I said and turned to leave. I was halfway back to my table, when a hand pulled me to a stop.
I looked down at the hand on my sleeve and then up into Maxx’s troubled blue eyes. “Thanks for not saying anything to Landon about the group. He doesn’t need to hear about that shit,” he said gruffly, his apology sounding more like an accusation and, I knew, given begrudgingly.
“You don’t need to thank me for that. Maybe you should think about why it bothers you so much if your brother were to find out. Maybe, deep down, you know you’re making some seriously shitty choices,” I preached. God, I sounded so freaking judgmental. I really should keep my sanctimonious mouth shut.
Clearly, Maxx found my trip to the top of the soapbox as obnoxious as I did. “I don’t need to explain my choices to you, Aubrey. You don’t know a thing about me.” His hand tightened on my arm as he moved closer to me, bending his lips in close to my ear. I shivered as his breath fanned my neck.
Good-bye, pride, it was nice knowing you.
“I’ll pay you back. I just haven’t gotten around to putting money in my account this month,” he explained through clenched teeth, his words hard and clipped.
He was trying to hide his mortification.
I touched the back of his hand. “Don’t worry about it,” I said softly, which seemed to infuriate Maxx.
“I don’t need handouts, Aubrey. I’ll pay you back the fucking money,” he bit out.
“Fine,” I responded shortly, annoyed by his gruff attitude.
“Good,” he muttered, and then turned around and walked back to his brother, who was watching us. I forced myself to give Landon another smile before walking off with more than a little bit of huffiness.
I rejoined Renee at our table. She had already finished her dessert and looked at me expectantly. “Who was that?” she asked, indicating Maxx. Landon was saying something to his brother, but Maxx’s eyes were on me, the dark blue unreadable.
I shivered, my heart rate picking up even as I tried to not let him affect me. Our eyes clashed in a silent battle of wills, and I ultimately admitted defeat and looked away.
“Nobody,” I answered.
chapter
nine
aubrey
it was almost time for support group, and I felt like crap. I had been fighting a cold for most of the week, and the last place I wanted to be was in a room full of people who didn’t really want to be there.
Kristie had gone out to make copies for an activity we would be doing, and I was straightening the chairs in a circle in the middle of the room. I pulled a tissue out of my pocket and sneezed four times in a row.
“Ugh,” I moaned.
“Do I need to start planning the funeral?” I looked up to find Brooks walking through the door.
“What are you doing here? Don’t tell me that you’ve finally admitted that your addiction to gummy worms is ruining your life,” I joked.
Brooks grabbed a cookie from the tray Kristie had put out earlier and popped it into his mouth. If there was food around, it would invariably end up in Brooks’s mouth. It was a miracle he didn’t weigh 800 pounds. I had yet to discover the secret to his trim physique, considering the way he inhaled sweets and carbs. I suspected black magic.
“Nah, I thought I’d just come by and say hello. I have a cram session with a couple other people in my Research Psychology class down the hall in a few minutes. How’s the group going?” he asked, taking another cookie.
I sneezed into the tissue again, wishing I could go home and crawl into bed. A heating pad and ten hours of solid sleep sounded as close to heaven as I could imagine. “It’s going. I haven’t done much. Kristie runs a pretty tight ship, no need for me to mess with the system,” I wheezed.
Brooks seemed revolted by my state of deteriorating health. It was a good thing he hadn’t decided to go into medicine. His bedside manner sucked. He shoved a box of tissues into my hand and took a very obvious step away from me.
I coughed in his direction, without covering my mouth. Just to be an asshole.
Brooks made a face of complete and total disgust and pulled a bottle of hand sanitizer out of his jacket pocket, squeezing a dollop in his palm and rubbing furiously. Apparently I wasn’t the only one with OCD tendencies. I’d remember that the next time he felt the need to make fun of my cleaning regimen.
I knew I looked horrible. I had purposefully avoided the mirror this morning while getting ready to go out, knowing what I would see: Long blond hair, limp and lifeless. Brown eyes, dull and tired. Dark circles and sallow skin. I had a virus, plain and simple, though from that descript
ion I could quite possibly be turning into a zombie. I was grossing myself out.
Watching the group members start to filter into the room, each looking less than enthused to be there, I realized that the support group was becoming less and less enjoyable. The initial meeting had been promising. Kristie had been optimistic that the group would turn out to be interactive and receptive. But with each group meeting, I knew that even her hopes were fading.
Some members had become more combative and defensive. Others had shut down entirely. Evan and April, the couple in need of some major social skills, were downright nasty.
And then there was Maxx Demelo. I knew Kristie thought he walked on water. You know the saying; if you want to look pretty, hang out with ugly people. And Maxx was doing his damnedest to be the belle of the druggie ball.
He was the only one who made a point of answering questions when they were asked. He volunteered personal information—though whether it was factual might be another story—and he seemed just oh-so-engaged each and every time he came to a meeting.
And while Kristie and I were barely tolerated when we spoke, Maxx Demelo reigned supreme. People listened when he opened his pretty little mouth, no matter what drivel fell out of it.
He was so full of shit.
He was one big ol’ pile of fake, and the way he played it up drove me nuts. I had tried to bring up my concerns about Maxx’s sincerity to Kristie several weeks ago, and she had blown me off.
“Aubrey, I can tell that Maxx is one hundred percent dedicated to his recovery. He is an example for every single person in the group. I’m so thankful to have someone like him to show the others that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. In fact, I’m thinking about talking to him about providing peer support to some of the more troubled members. I just know he’d help them so much,” Kristie gushed, and I had stopped bothering to discuss it. It was useless.
But even while I was regularly overcome with the urge to call Maxx out, I couldn’t help but be fascinated by him all the same. It was like watching an actor on stage slip into a character. And honestly, it made me determined to see what really lay beneath his cool and confident exterior.
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