by Olivia Besse
Max had always been upset with the way that Noah never ceased to take Riley for granted, whether it was by turning off his phone to “teach her a lesson” after a big blowout or shrugging off her concerns about him hanging out with other girls. All Noah had ever done was criticize her and ignore her to the point that she constantly showed up on Max’s doorstep in tears. Truth be told, Noah had barely seemed to appreciate his ex-girlfriend, let alone even like her very much. Why was he so obsessed with getting back with her now?
“No, that’s not it,” Noah insisted, opening up his locker and grabbing for his gym bag. “I’m telling you, it’s different with her.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know,” Noah flatly replied. “I don’t think anyone else could put up with my shit.”
Max could feel his fingernails dig into the skin of his palm as he curled his hand tightly into a fist. What the fuck kind of answer was that? He just wanted her because she would put up with his shit?
Evan was right—Noah really was just a spoiled, pretentious little asshole. Max had avoided acknowledging the fact that the two of them had been drifting apart over the past few years, but now he felt positively distant from the person standing a mere two feet away from him.
This conceited dick was nothing like the Noah he had known in high school, the Noah who had worshipped Riley and catered to her every need. That Noah had gone out of his way to make her smile, and that Noah had been the one that Max had recognized as being worthy of courting the girl that he loved.
But this Noah was practically a complete stranger, a bastard who only thought of himself and put everyone else’s feelings on the back burner. This Noah had no shame, whether he was kissing Liz’s equally douchey ex-boyfriend’s ass in order to secure a summer internship or amassing a seemingly endless parade of promiscuous sidepieces via the Internet.
But he’s still your friend, the voice inside Max’s head reminded him. And what you’re doing, Fletcher, is just as shitty as all the crap that he’s pulled in the past.
Maybe even shittier.
“And my parents love her,” Noah was saying, his voice drawing Max back to reality. “My grandma loves her. You love her—”
“I don’t love her!” Max loudly blurted out.
Uh-huh.
“Whatever, man,” Noah said, a tiny frown on his lips. “Anyway, you know what I mean. I just need to find a way to get her back.”
“Maybe you should just let her go,” Max flatly suggested.
“No way,” Noah replied, slamming his locker shut. “She’s the perfect girl. Funny, pretty, relatively smart. It’s hard to find that anywhere else. I’m going to get her back. Just wait and see.”
Twenty-two
“Are you kidding me? She was a selfish fucking cunt who screwed her entire family over because she was too busy being a little whore.”
“Yea, right!” Evan cried out, scoffing in disbelief. “She was definitely the hottest. Redheads are totally hot, dude.”
“You’re crazy,” Riley muttered with a dismissive roll of her eyes. “She was a total slut. How old was she? 16? What kind of 16-year-old runs around in just her bra?”
“Like I said,” Evan began, shooting her a pointed stare. “Totally hot. And she didn’t run, she swam.”
“Are you guys seriously fighting over Disney movies right now?” Max asked with a frown from where he was sitting in front of his computer. “How old are you?”
“Five,” Riley sarcastically replied.
“Really?”
“FYI, Max, girls never outgrow Disney movies,” Riley informed him, shoving a handful of Doritos into her mouth as she leaned back on Max’s futon. “We’re all princesses at heart.”
“And apparently so is Evan,” he uttered under his breath, turning up the volume on the TV so as to drown out the sound of their bickering.
“Bro, I’m just stating the truth,” Evan replied matter-of-factly. “And the truth is that The Little Mermaid was the hottest Disney princess.”
“Do you hear yourself right now?” Max asked with a laugh.
“Dude, I’m high as fuck,” Evan defensively stated, bringing his bong to his mouth and taking another hit. “Even as the words come out of my mouth, I can’t hear ‘em.”
“Yea, stop being such a Debbie Downer and take, like, one hit,” Riley suggested, grabbing for the bong and the lighter as Evan passed them to her. “It won’t kill you, you know.”
“Yea, you fucking Negative Nancy,” Evan added with a lazy smirk before staring intently at the beer in Max’s hand. “Stop being such a Boozy Susie.”
“I already told you no,” Max grumbled, waving away the thick clouds of smoke that clung in the air. “So stop asking.”
“Damn, my bad, Polly Pissypants,” Evan sarcastically drawled out.
“Those names are kind of sexist, no?” Riley distractedly mused to no one in particular.
“I’m just being careful in case anyone makes me take a drug test,” Max explained, letting out a tired sigh. “I don’t want to risk anything.”
“A drug test for what?” Riley asked with a goofy smile on her face. “Who would even drug test you?”
“Employers. You know, like HR, or whatever.”
“Employers?” Riley repeated, wrinkling her nose in confusion. “I thought you were already interning.”
“Well, for now, yea,” Max replied with a shrug. “But I’m talking about for after we graduate. I already have a few phone interviews lined up. And who knows how quickly the process could move? I just don’t want to risk it.”
“Oh shit, thanks for reminding me,” Evan groaned out. “I have to e-mail my résumé to my stepdad by Friday. He’d go fucking nuts if I forgot again.”
Interviews? Résumés?
Weren’t those things that actual grown ups dealt with?
“But it’s only April,” Riley blurted out. “What’s the rush?”
“This isn’t rushing, Riley,” Max said with a laugh. “Pretty soon, it’ll be midterm season and then, before you know it, it’ll be finals week. You have to be proactive now if you want a job lined up for after graduation.”
“What?” she yelped out, suddenly feeling very high and extremely nauseous. “Why didn’t anyone tell me all of this?”
“What do you mean?” Evan asked, smirking at her as if she were a little kid. “What are we? Your life coaches?”
“I don’t have a résumé,” Riley began, her face crumpling in horror. “I don’t even have anything to write on a résumé!”
As embarrassing as it was to admit, Riley hadn’t given much thought to her future. Deep inside, a part of her had always assumed that Noah would just take care of her once they graduated from college. After all, he was the responsible workaholic who actually enjoyed spending weekends slaving away in the office during each of his internships, even though it was obvious that he only did so because he wanted to brag about his long hours via Snapchat and Instagram. But now that she and Noah were done, so were her dreams of becoming a pathetic little housewife who spent her days at yoga class or in front of the TV.
Fuck, was she going to have to become an actual contributing member of society?
“I’ll help you with your résumé,” Max promised, shooting her a tiny smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Aw,” Evan cooed, eyeing the two of them as if they were a pair of newborn kittens. “Adorable.”
“Shut the fuck up, Evan,” Riley mumbled, taking a deep breath in an attempt to cool down her burning cheeks.
“Look at how red she’s getting,” Evan pointed out, guffawing loudly as he turned to Max. “Do you see how red she’s getting?”
“It’s cute,” Max replied, a shy smirk on his lips.
As Riley flushed a deeper shade of scarlet, Evan couldn’t help but let out another booming laugh. “You two slay me,” he announced, his eyes practically nonexistent as he stumbled up from his seat.
“Go slay yourself in your own room,” Riley m
uttered under her breath, glaring up at him like a sulky child.
“Rude,” Evan sassily replied before turning on his heel and waltzing out of the room, the door slowly clicking shut behind him.
“Max, what am I going to do?” Riley whimpered, thoroughly regretting having taken that last hit. “I’m going to become one of those unemployed Millennials that they always make fun of in New York Times articles.”
“You’ll find a job,” Max reassured her, leaning back in his chair as he lazily stared in her direction. “You just need to figure out how to market yourself.”
“How? I have no marketable skills!”
“We’ll figure it out,” he said with a shrug. “Here, we can start on it now.”
“I’m so high that I can’t even feel my face right now! I can barely keep my eyes open!” she babbled, shaking her head slightly to see if it would wake her up a bit. “And you want me to write a résumé?”
“Yup, a true princess at heart if I ever saw one,” Max teased, walking towards the futon and grabbing her by the arms. “You deserve your own Disney movie,” he added, lifting her limp body up and pulling her close.
“Only if they give me a really hot prince.”
“Well, let’s hope the animators draw me accurately then,” Max whispered, smirking slightly before leaning down to kiss her gently on the lips.
Her hair’s so soft, Max thought to himself as he ran his fingers through it, kissing her a bit more firmly as she tilted her face towards him. She smells like lemons and flowers and laundry. Oh shit, remember to do laundry tomorrow morning. Fuck, stop thinking about laundry! God, she tastes so good. Mmm, Doritos.
It wasn’t long before he had helped her slink off her shirt and the two had tumbled onto his bed. Riley quickly kicked off her pants before proceeding to grab for his own clothes, and Max happily assisted her in ripping them off. “This is so weird,” she mumbled out, laughing against his lips and tickling them in a way that drove him crazy. “But so, so good.”
Fuck yea, it’s good, he groaned inwardly as he pushed his body down onto her own, deepening his kiss to the point that both of them could barely breathe. As he slipped her underwear off and pressed his cold hand against her, she let out another moan that caused a shiver to run through his entire body. No, not just good. This is great.
Every time his skin even lightly grazed against hers, it felt as if he were being electrified. Easy there, he silently instructed, biting his lip in agony as he slowly entered her. Hooooooooly Shit. Erkdgfhfjgkhkln. No, stop that! Concentrate! Don’t fucking blow your load before you even get started, you piece of shit.
How is she so beautiful? he wondered, staring intently into her half-closed eyes as he hovered above her. How do her hands fit so perfectly into mine? And how is her skin so smooth? Fuck, I’m gonna...
Oh no, not yet. Not yet, dude! Okay, focus, Fletcher. You got this. Should I go faster? Slower? Should I speed up? Going a little too fast now, so slow down a bit. Yea, good. Right there. UGH, THIS FEELS AWESOME.
Not yet, not yet, not yet. Hold it, hold it. Okay, she’s close, I can feel it. OH FUCK, yea, I can definitely feel it. Oh, shit. Wait, no, no, no, no, no. Don’t let go. Hold off, dude. Think of something else. La la la la la.
All right, focus. You can’t finish yet. Not until she’s done. This isn’t about you, you selfish bastard, it’s about her. Oh yea, I think she likes that. Fuck, I like that too. Oh God, I really like that...
Stop! Hold your shit. Quick, think of something else. Think of what to eat for breakfast. Bacon. Toast. Do we have bread? Coffee. Yea, lots of coffee. And pancakes. Come to think of it, pancakes kind of look like boobs...
Okay, scratch breakfast. Think of... midterms! Good one. Remember to hit up the computer lab to finish that one project before Tuesday. Oh, and don’t forget to pick up Scantrons at the bookstore. Who the hell invented Scantrons, anyway? The bubbles look like boobies...
Stop it, jackass! Here, switch positions. Oh wait, she’s moaning. Fuck, what did I just do? Oh, that. Okay, do more of that. Yea, lots and lots of that. God, she’s so hot when she moans.
I am so fucking good at this.
Holy shit, I’m thirsty. I really need water. And, fuck, my muscles are literally going to die. Ow, ow, ow. Leg cramp, leg cramp leg cramp. Wait a minute. Yes! She’s going to come. Yea, keep going. Do that. Oh yea, she loves that.
Or at least I hope she loves that.
Quick, say something! Finish the job. Whisper something hot in her ear.
“Dictionary.”
Riley let out an appreciative groan, wrapping her legs more tightly around him and pulling him in closer. Mentally patting himself on the back, Max leaned in and uttered in the sexiest voice he could muster, “Thesaurus.”
“Oh God,” Riley moaned out, lightly clawing at his back. “I’m going to come.”
“Scientific calculator.”
“Max,” Riley whimpered as he felt her clench and tighten around him. “Shut the fuck up.”
“I’m going to write you the dirtiest, naughtiest résumé ever,” Max growled into her ear as she let out a loud, shaky sigh and began to tremble in the afterglow.
Fuck yea! Now my turn!
Oh shit, this feels good. Holy crap. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. This is the best feeling in the world.
Oh God. Almost there. Oh fuck. OH FUCK. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!
And done.
That was fucking exhausting, Max groaned to himself as he fell onto the bed and pulled Riley into his arms. Ah, shit, hair in my face. Yuck, it’s in my mouth. Roll her over a little bit so your arm doesn’t fall asleep, either. Yea, like that. Perfect.
Sleepy. So sleepy. But thirsty. So fucking thirsty. Water. Too. Far. Eh, I’m too lazy to get up. And, damn, my arms are fucking killing me. I’m so sweaty too; I hope my sheets don’t smell like shit in the morning. Oh yea, almost forgot. Remember to do laundry tomorrow.
“Max?” Riley quietly called out as she snuggled against his chest. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” he replied, placing a light kiss on the top of her head as his lids began to grow heavy. “Absolutely nothing.”
Twenty-three
“No, put it in the right hand corner. Yea, definitely the right-hand corner.”
“Are you sure?” Max asked, his nose scrunched in uncertainty. “It doesn’t look too cluttered?”
“Nah, bro, it looks like a fucking ad for Pottery Barn or some shit,” Evan breezily reassured him before stuffing half of a bagel into his mouth. “This is seriously pro status right here.”
With a weary smile on his face, Max stared down at the carefully curated tray in front of him. He had stirred awake that morning to the sound of light snoring and had grinned like an idiot when he saw that Riley was, much to his surprise, still in his bed. Being careful not to wake her, he had painstakingly made his way off of the mattress before dashing off to Evan’s room to demand what he should do next.
“Should I go out and get her a coffee? Make her some tea?” Max had asked, nervously pacing the room as Evan sat up in bed and rubbed angrily at his bleary eyes. “Do we even have any tea?”
“What time is it?” Evan had merely responded in a raspy voice, scratching at his hair before letting out a monstrous yawn.
“I’m going to Google it,” Max had blurted out, throwing himself into the chair in front of Evan’s computer. “‘Morning after, what to do, girl you like,’” he recited aloud as he typed. “What else?”
“Dude, you’re totally overthinking this,” Evan then muttered under his breath. “Trust me, there’s only one thing that you can and should do—breakfast in bed. Duh.”
And so, Max had hopped into his car and driven around to pick up all of Riley’s favorite things, from chocolate chip bagels and ginger scones to a soy chai latte with extra whipped cream. When he had returned to the house with the various bags and drink tray in tow, a few of his frat brothers had shaken their heads in disbelief at the sight be
fore them. Max Fletcher wasn’t the type of guy to go running around on an early weekend morning, gathering girly shit like scones and soy beverages so that he could stylishly arrange them onto an awaiting bed tray. When had their brotastic douchebag of a friend turned into such a pussy?
“It looks better in the middle,” Max groaned, inching the plate of pastries towards the center of the tray. “No?”
“You don’t know shit,” Evan grumbled in annoyance, promptly pushing the dish back into the right-hand corner. “See? That looks way better! But why didn’t you get any flowers? They would’ve totally livened up the presentation,” he added with a roll of his eyes. “Amateur.”
“Fuck!” Max moaned out. “You’re right. Do we have flowers anywhere? The backyard maybe?”
“Nah. We used to have that patch of yellow shit growing back there but Garrett pissed on them when he was drunk and they all died,” Evan said with a frown. “I think we have some weeds, though.”
“I can’t give her fucking weeds!”
“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Jeremy muttered in disgust, staring at them in dismay as he wandered into the kitchen. “Are you going to go shopping for training bras after this?”
“Bro, it’s called being sensitive and charming,” Evan retorted as Max nervously rearranged all of the plates and cups for the umpteenth time. “Not all of us are into the whole smash-and-dash routine, you know.”
“Whatever. Did you learn this shit from Oprah?”
“No, I read about it on some girl’s blog a few months back,” Evan proudly replied. “‘Stuff Guys Do That Drive Girls Wild.’ Pure gold, man.”
“Huh,” Jeremy said with an intrigued look on his face. “Send that to me later, will ya?”
“How funny would it be if that blogger chick was giving the wrong advice on purpose?” Evan asked before letting out a snort of laughter. “Taste of our own fucking medicine, right?”
At this, Max’s face fell, his shoulders drooping slightly in defeat as he held the tray in his hands. There was no way that serving a girl breakfast in bed was the wrong thing to do, right?