He hesitates, lying next to me without touching. I reach a tentative hand towards him and my groping fingers meet his in the dark then he’s pulling me close. He wraps himself around me protectively like he always does.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Shh, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. I knew you weren’t ready. I should have stopped you. I should have taken care of you,” he says.
“You did take care of me.” I was stupid and impulsive and I thought I had to prove something and that wasn’t his fault. He took care of me when it counted. He hugs me close and kisses my hair.
“Never again,” he whispers into my hair. “We’re slowing this thing way down. I care about you too much to see you like that. It killed me seeing you like that. I love you, No. I can wait as long as it takes and if this here is what we have then this is what we have.” Once again I fall asleep securely wrapped in the arms of someone who loves me.
****
I wake up really early on Saturday morning. I look at Max’s sleeping face and smile. I slip out of bed without waking him. I change into running clothes and I’m sitting on the couch in the studio tying my shoes when Max comes into the room.
“It’s too early to be awake. Come back to bed,” he says with sleepy eyes. I almost agree with him but I need to run. I need to think. I need to get some things straight in my head.
“Go back to sleep. It’s going to be a nice day today. I’m going to run outside for a few miles.” He kisses me and leans against me half asleep.
“Work up an appetite. I’m cooking breakfast when you get back,” he says before shuffling back to bed.
It’s still really cold out especially this early in the morning. I could have run on the treadmill in the warmth of the house but I need to be alone. I need to get lost in the run. At first the cold air hurts my lungs but as I run I get warm and it doesn’t bother me as much.
I’m still really freaked out by last night. First, I’m freaked out by what I did. That’s…I don’t know but I think we’re getting into dangerous labels with that act. I try to think about how I felt about it and I can’t go there. It’s too raw. I feel too close to panic when I try to remember.
I’m also freaked out by my freak out. What did Max think of how I acted? I have to admit he seemed to handle it well. He took care of me. He didn’t run screaming or anything. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve him.
I can’t tell him the truth now, not this weekend, not after last night. I have to make it up to him or something. I have to have a nice normal day with him and make him forget last night. Who am I kidding? It’s not just because of last night. I can’t tell him. I just can’t.
My parents and Dr. Cooper want to know what caused this increase in anxiety. I know. Of course I know. It started when he kissed me. I thought about it for weeks. I know how I feel about him but I’m terrified of anyone else finding out how I feel. His parents can’t know. They might tell mine. He wants to be honest with his dad. I can’t be honest with mine. I just can’t. I’ve been enough of a disappointment to them my entire life. I’ve put them through so much. How can I tell them I’m in love with my best friend?
I’d probably be admitted so fast my head would spin. I can’t go through that. I can’t do this anymore. I run faster and faster and I try to let it all go. I can’t stop thinking. I can’t get out of my head. I run and I run and the thought sneaks into my head that this is just like the night I ran so far my dad had to come looking for me. Am I running away again? Where am I? I look around and I’m still in town. I’ve been running blocks like I usually do, perhaps a little further out but I’m still in town.
I continue to run and my mind also runs in circles. I should stop this thing with Max before it’s too late. Last night should have proven it to me that this is wrong for me. I should let him go before one of us gets really hurt. I should stop this thing before my parents find out about us, before Max finds out about me and then maybe I’ll have some peace and my mind can be quiet again.
I think of Max at home in bed. I think of him waiting for me to come home from the run so he can cook breakfast for me. I think about dancing with him last night and my resolve wavers. I don’t know what to do!
All of these thoughts going around and around are messing with my run. I can’t get my breathing right. I can’t keep my pace and soon I can’t even keep my footing. I go down hard, twisting my ankle as I step off a curb, landing hard on my knee. I land in a cold, icy puddle. I get up quickly because I landed in the street and knowing my luck a car will come careening around the corner going too fast and I’ll be flattened.
The ankle is tender from turning it but it doesn’t seem to be sprained. The knee, on the other hand, screams when I try to put weight on my leg. I hobble out of the street and make my way painfully to a sidewalk bench. I sit and get my bearings for a few minutes then I take out my phone and call Max.
“Hey, where are you?” he says lightly. “Do you usually take this long when you run? I’m getting hungry. I might have to start breakfast without you,” he teases.
“I need you,” I say and like an idiot I’m practically in tears and Jesus, God I thought I was over that crying nonsense.
“Noah, what is it? Where are you?” his tone completely changes.
“I fell off a curb like a total spaz. I can’t make it back on my own. I’m sitting on a bench at the corner of Madison and Pine with a sore knee and a bruised ego.”
“I’m on my way.” While I wait I flex my knee. It’s painful but I don’t want it to get stiff. I’m shivering uncontrollably by the time the familiar blue Subaru pulls up at the curb. I stand with my weight on my stable leg and Max jumps out of the car and rushes to help me.
“What happened?” he asks as he helps me limp to the car.
“I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t paying attention and I twisted my ankle coming off the curb. Just clumsy of me really,” I sigh.
“I’m taking you to the emergency room,” he says.
“No, just take me home. I’m sure nothing’s broken,” I argue. If we go to the hospital I’ll have to admit that I’m taking Paxil. I can’t let Max find out that way. Hell, just being in a hospital might freak me out too much.
When we get back to his house Max sets me up on the couch in the family room. The knee of my sweatpants is torn. He pushes my pants past my knee and cleans the blood and gravel from it. My knee is definitely a little swollen. He takes off my sneakers and socks and the ankle seems okay. He puts ice on both and instructs me to take it easy while he makes breakfast.
I hear him banging around in the kitchen. I smell coffee and bacon. He starts singing to himself and I don’t even know if he realizes it. It makes me smile. I smell burning toast and I hear “Oh shit!” Eventually he comes into the living room with a tray of food.
“What did you do?” I half gasp and half laugh. “This is a LOT of food.” He brought me eggs and bacon and toast and pancakes and orange juice and water and sausage links and last but not least, fresh fruit.
“You don’t have to eat all of it,” he says.
“I should hope not. I don’t know if a family of four could eat all of it,” I smile as I dig into the pancakes.
“Just a bite of each and then more if you’re still hungry.” I nod and he goes back to the kitchen to get his own breakfast. I notice that he has much less variety but I don’t call him out on it. After we eat and Max cleans up he helps me to hobble down the stairs. He sets me up on the couch in his studio this time and then he gets things ready for recording.
He explains the level checks he’s doing making sure the volume is just right. He plays guitar and fiddles with the computer then plays some more. He moves on to the keyboard then the bass guitar and finally the drums. He plays a steady beat then a roll, hits some cymbals and then does it all again.
“I thought you were hopeless on drums!” I exclaim. He shrugs.
“You’ve just seen the extent of my abilities. This is
as close as I can get until Elliot gets here. He hits a lot harder but it’s good to get a head start anyway.”
“When is Elliot coming?” I ask. Max looks at his watch.
“Not for at least forty five minutes.”
“Come here,” I tell him.
“How’s your knee?” he asks as he sits on the edge of the couch.
“It’s fine. I don’t need it right now.” He’s hesitant. I know it’s because of last night. After ten minutes of barely kissing I speak up.
“Max, please, I’m fine. Can’t we just pretend nothing happened?”
“If we pretend nothing happened we won’t learn from our mistakes,” he tells me.
“Well then can we say we’ve learned something and get past it? I want things the way they were before I acted like an idiot. Can we just go back to where we were before last night?”
“I just feel terrible about it. I should have known you weren’t ready for that. I should have stopped you but…God! I was selfish instead. I swear, No, if I had known how wrong it was for you I would have stopped you. I really hope I would have. I don’t want to be that guy.” He looks so unsure and I can see he’s upset with himself. It’s not like him and it makes me sad.
“Come here,” I tell him and he does. I grab handfuls of his hair as I kiss him. I spend the next forty five minutes doing my best to convince him that he’s not that guy.
When Elliot rings the doorbell Max reluctantly gets off of the couch. He comes back and kisses me again then walks away a few steps and comes back once more. Finally, he drags himself up the stairs.
It doesn’t take long for Max to make the necessary adjustments and then he and Elliot start their magic. I love watching Max play. It’s like he’s in another world, a completely different place. I have to stay quiet so the mics don’t pick up any noise I make but that’s fine with me. I’m too in awe to even move.
After a few hours they break and Max calls in an order for pizza. I stay behind with Elliot while he goes to pick it up because half lame like I am it’s too much of a pain in the ass to get to the car. Elliot and I chat for a while about nothing. I guess Elliot is a friend but I don’t really hang out with him if I’m not hanging out with Max. Sometimes I think I should broaden my circle a bit but I’m still uncomfortable with a lot of people at once and I’m not going to see any of these people after graduation anyway.
“So, you and Max?” Elliot surprises me and I choke on the water I was drinking when he said it.
“Me and Max what?” I act bewildered. I AM bewildered. I didn’t think anyone knew besides Tabitha and Darcy. Shit. Shit! This is so not good.
“I had my suspicions about Max. I mean, he’s always been a ‘try anything’ kind of guy but I didn’t know about you.” Why is he doing this? I thought Elliot and I were cool?
“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” I’m going to deny, deny, deny.
“Come on, kid, it’s okay. It doesn’t make any difference to me. Bummer for my sister though. She has a little crush on you.”
“Dude, Max is my best friend…”
“Hey, forget I said anything. Don’t ask don’t tell, am I right?” If I was capable of walking up the stairs I would be so out of here right this second. Then again, wouldn’t that just make me look guilty or freaked out? The truth is I’m both.
When Max gets back with the pizza he brings it downstairs. Elliot doesn’t mention the previous conversation with Max. He doesn’t seem to care one way or another about who Max is or isn’t involved with now. Why did he bring it up to me? Was he just messing with me…trying to see if he could figure out if I’m…I don’t know.
I can’t eat. I try to but it’s like lead in my stomach. I tell Max my leg really hurts when he asks what’s wrong.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t go to the hospital?” he asks concerned.
“I don’t think it’s that bad. They’ll probably just tell me to ice it and stay off of it.” I am NOT going to the hospital. Max says he’ll take me home as soon as they’re done recording if I want. Elliot has to go to work in another hour so they don’t have much time. I tell him I’m fine but I feel like I can’t sit here and be quiet anymore. He helps me limp up the stairs so I can lie on the couch with ice on my knee and I don’t have to worry so much about being quiet.
While they make their music downstairs I become more and more agitated upstairs on the couch. I’m not exactly thrilled that Tabitha and Darcy know about Max and me but now Elliot? This is getting out of hand. I didn’t want this. What was I thinking in the first place? He’s my best friend, the first really important friend I’ve ever had. Does that make it love?
Then I wonder, if it’s not love what is that feeling I get when he kisses me? Why am I so jealous of Mischa Mallory? It can’t be love because I’m just not into guys. I’m just not into…any of that. This is getting out of control. Soon my parents will find out about this. I can’t imagine the amount of disappointment I’m going to cause them. Where did I think this could possibly go? Disappointment? They’re going to look at me with disgust. They’re going to disown me. They’ll probably kill Max. Okay, maybe that’s going too far.
Max, I don’t know why he’s still around. I’ve been acting all Freak Noah for weeks now. Why is he still here? He won’t be for much longer. I know that. Of course I know that. So why am I risking…everything for something that can’t and won’t last? It probably shouldn’t last.
This is over. It has to be. It’s going to cause nothing but pain for everyone if I don’t end this now. My anxiety is higher than it’s been in months. I feel like I can’t relax. I can’t just let go of the worry. It’s getting bad and I can’t go back to that. It needs to just stop! Everything needs to just STOP!
By the time Max and Elliot are done recording I’m a jumble of nerves. I can’t stop tapping my feet and fidgeting. Elliot calls goodbye to me as he leaves and Max joins me on the couch. He can see my agitation. He sits next to me on the couch and puts an arm around me.
“Elliot told me about the conversation you two had while I was out,” he says. I can only nod.
“I’m sorry it upset you. I told him he was wrong. I told him that while he’s right about me he’s not right about you and that we’re just friends. It’s okay. You don’t have to be so upset, Mon Coeur.”
“I’m okay,” I lie.
“How is your knee?” he asks as he takes the icepack that has turned to water. I shrug.
“I think I’ll live.”
“Glad to hear it. You’re my favorite, you know,” he teases as he kisses me and I know I should stop him. I’m ending this. I have to but I can’t help it. When he kisses me it’s like I’m a different person in a different place. All thoughts of breaking up and going home and putting this behind me are put on hold as I lean back on the couch and pull him with me.
Eventually the kissing and touching and everything else that’s so wonderful I can barely stand it come to an end as we both fall asleep on the couch wrapped up in each other. Max wakes before I do. It’s dark when I wake up and my stomach growls letting me know it’s been hours since breakfast and the lunch I couldn’t eat. I wander to the kitchen looking for Max. My instincts were right. That’s where I find him. He’s already got the table set and he’s plating up the food.
I limp to a chair. He’s made steak and baked potatoes with all the trimmings and salad with my favorite dressing. He probably planned this meal as soon as he knew I was spending the weekend. I would have been fine with leftover pizza but this smells great.
“I’m sorry this weekend has been a complete clusterfuck of not going the way I planned, like at all,” Max says.
“It’s not your fault. I’m the walking disaster,” I tell him. I’m actually hungry for a change. I guess skipping meals repeatedly is bound to catch up with a person sooner or later. I just hope I can keep calm enough to enjoy this meal. Anxiety stomach is such a bitch.
We eat in silence. Max got the steaks a perfect medium rare
and I have no clue what he marinated the onions and mushrooms in but they’re ridiculously good. He probably used a whole stick of butter. When we’re done eating and the kitchen is cleaned up he helps me down the stairs by carrying me piggy-back style.
“You’re stronger than you look,” I laugh as I duck my head to keep it from hitting the low ceiling in the stairway.
“You’re about as light as a feather,” he replies. He drops me off on his bed and gives my knee a quick examination. “It looks like the swelling is going down,” he says.
“Yeah, I probably could have walked down here on my own,” I admit. It’s not as sore as it was and I’m not above a little limping.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” he asks.
“I’d really like to hear you play piano for a while if you aren’t sick of playing music anymore today.”
“Never!” he says as he kisses me. I hobble into his studio with him and get settled on the couch while he starts to play. As conflicted as I was earlier I’m content right now. I love watching him play. I love the look on his face while he plays. He’s here with me but he’s also in his own little world. I wonder if that’s how I look when I’m having a really good run.
After maybe an hour he stops playing and joins me on the couch. He maneuvers himself behind me and pulls me against his front. I relax into him as he wraps his arms around me. This is my favorite way to snuggle with him. When he talks to me he whispers into my ear or talks into my hair. I let my head fall back against his chest. We don’t talk about my problems or about Elliot’s questioning this afternoon. We don’t talk about the fact that Max still thinks he owes his dad the truth. We don’t talk about my parents or school. We talk about little things.
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