Alyssa ♔

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Despite the chaos of the last few days, rapping to Tupac in Max's car makes everything feel right again. I can forget that I've barely spoken to my parents, that I'm staying at the gym, that the future is more uncertain than ever, and I can finally be me – whoever that happens to be.

The slam of the horn makes me jump. Max swears under his breath, quickly changing lanes as he glares in his rearview at the guy who undertook him. He'll never admit it, but the last few days have been stressful for both of us, and with him picking up more delivery shifts to help me get by, he's practically running on steam.

I swallow hard and risk a glance over, taking in the shadows beneath his eyes. It's my fault that he's working so hard, but I plan to find a part-time job to relieve some of the pressure, though I've had little luck. Despite sending my application to a handful of places, the only response was from the pretzel place at the mall, who felt obliged to tell me my resume was bare and that I needed to gain the necessary experience. On paper, there is nothing special about me after all.

We pull up to the parking lot, where Max kills the engine. Maybe it's stupid, but part of me wanted to come and get milkshakes to feel a little more normal. So much changed in such a short space that grabbing milkshakes and playing footsy under the table sounds like heaven.

Like the gentleman he is, Max walks around the side of my car to open my door. Together, we head into the milkshake bar and find a booth in the corner, relieved that none of my old friends are around. While I'm still friends with Tiana, who's been supportive despite everything, the others have frozen me out.

"What are you going to get?" I ask before scanning the menu. "Chocoletta delight? Pixie Eton mess?"

His eyebrow quirks. "Those sound like porno names."

I lightly kick him under the table. "I can't take you anywhere."

He leans forward and grabs my hand before grinning. "That's not true. You can take me home if you want."

I laugh because things feel back to normal again. We're just two kids getting milkshakes, and I don't have to worry about money or family or what's going to happen with college in the fall: I get to be here with him.

"What do you wanna watch when we get home?" I ask.

The word slips out before I know what I'm saying. Home, like we made a conscious decision to live together or that we're two well-rounded adults instead of a couple of kids who have no idea what they're doing. Max's eyes snap to mine, and as he stares at me, I can tell he's thinking the same thing.

"There's this new series I'm watching," I say to change the subject, and for the next few minutes, I tell him all about it while he watches me, eyes on mine like he's listening to every word – the complete opposite of Justin. I could be talking about the most stupid thing, and Max will listen like I'm giving a Nobel Prize speech.

That's why I love him.

"Let me get this straight," he says, leaning forward. "This chick's mom goes around killing everyone, and everyone's just fine with it?"

"Well, she's so charismatic that not many people know yet," I say, "except for the kids."

"And are the kids messed up?"

"Kinda," I say. "Everyone online hates the daughter because they think she's too dramatic."

Max leans back, shaking his head, and says, "Yeah, it sounds like she's taking this my mom's a murderer thing way too far."

I fight a smile at his sarcasm. "Do you wanna watch it with me?"

"One episode," he warns.

I smile, about to reach over and give him a peck, when my friends walk in. They pause when they see us huddled in the corner and smirk. Marnie whispers something to the others, and they laugh. I turn back to Max after sinking so far into my chair I'm practically on the floor.

The last thing I want is for Max to think I'm embarrassed by him because I'm not, but I don't want another confrontation. Today is supposed to be about getting back to normal, not more drama.

The arrival of the waitress breaks the awkwardness. After taking our orders, she heads to the bar to make our milkshakes while Max leans back, silent, and plays with the salt shaker. I wait for him to speak first, hoping it'll help me to gauge how he feels about what happened, but he doesn't say a word.

"I'm sorry," I say, taking his hand. "It's just an automatic reaction to wither when I see them. It's not because I'm embarrassed to be seen with you or anything."

He still doesn't say anything for a few seconds. My heart pounds, and I chastise myself for ruining yet another good moment through old habits, but then he leans forward, expression serious, and tucks back my hair.

"If they were my friends," he says, "I'd hide from them too."

Relief washes through me, but it doesn't last long. A second later, my phone buzzes beneath the table with a missed call from Mom. It's followed by a message that reads: are you okay?

I'm fine.

Please come home. Daddy will give you your allowance back.

I put my phone away, sighing, and look up to see Max watching me.

"That your mom?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say, sighing. "She wants me to go home."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. I just told her I'm fine, so she doesn't worry."

His eyes darken, but he doesn't get to say anything else before the milkshakes arrive. The waitress places them in front of us and smiles before moving to another table. I grab my spoon, scooping some chocolate sauce off the whipped cream.

"How does your milkshake taste?" I ask.

The corner of his mouth tilts. "Like ten dollars."

I laugh and say, "Admit it. This is the best milkshake you've ever had."

His eyes fall to my lips and stay there. "I've had better things."

"Really?" I look at him through my lashes and lick up the cream on my milkshake. "Like what?"

He clenches his jaw and looks away but can't resist looking back. "You're determined to get us arrested for public indecency."

Laughing, I say, "I'm not doing anything," before something – or someone – catches my eye behind him. I glance back at Max, debating whether or not to tell him who I've spotted in case it starts another argument.

"Hey," I say finally, "did you know Kino works here?"

He doesn't even look. "Kino is at Chess club."

"He's not. He's right there."

He turns slowly, and there he is, behind the counter in his purple apron, making a Chocoletta Delight. So, he's not at Chess Club. He got a job, and he lied to Max about it. This cannot end well.

After zapping some milkshake with cream, Kino looks up. And freezes. Max arches an eyebrow and walks up to the counter before peering behind it. "Are your chess pieces behind there?"

For about a second, Kino looks like he's going to bolt before he throws both hands up. "All right, you got me. I lied. Are you going to drag me out of here kicking and screaming now?"

Feeling tense, I get up and walk beside Max before resting my hand on his waist. He looks over at me, frowning as though he's contemplating his next move. As hard as he's tried to protect Kino's childhood, I know that deep down, he knows it's not his decision to make: sometimes, loving someone means knowing when to pull back and let them flourish.

"You like it here?" Max asks.

Kino doesn't respond for a moment. He stares at Max, trying to read his stoic expression and failing miserably. "Yeah, I do."

Max nods. "All right then."

I squeeze his hand and turn to Kino. "Is this place still hiring?"

Max sighs. Kino looks at me – the first time he's looked at me properly in forever – and frowns. "We are, but...you want to work here?"

I don't blame him for the undercurrent of surprise in his voice. I'm certain Max hasn't told him about our current predicament, which means he has no idea my parents have decided to cut me off. "Could you talk to your manager? I don't have much experience, but–" my voice trails off because there is no but. I don't have experience, and everyone so far has seen my resume and realized the truth: I am nothing without money and popularity.

"I mean, if you'd rather I didn't–"

"No, it's fine," Kino says, shrugging. "I'll talk to him later."

I smile. "Thank you, seriously."

He nods and asks if we want to pay for our milkshakes, so we do before heading to the car. Tupac's Changes blares from the speakers while Max faces the front, deep in thought. I nod along, trying to lose myself to the beat, but all I can think about is how with a new job, my parents might finally see that I'm serious.

I'll finally be independent.

"I'm proud of you," I say suddenly.

Max looks over, eyebrows furrowed. He rarely hears those words. "Why?"

I shrug. "I know it's hard for you to see Kino getting a job. You wanted to give him the childhood you never had – I get it. But I'm proud of you for putting that aside and letting him decide for himself."

Surprise crosses his face as he makes the next turn. He looks over, eyes searching mine with a thousand different emotions. I've felt it before, too, this sudden realization that this person knows everything, not just the good parts you try to put forward, but the parts you tried to hide. Your fears. Your flaws. They see through all of it, and somehow, they're still there, wanting you anyway.

We pull up to the gym, and Max parks out front before walking around the car to open my door. After taking my hand, he leads me to the office, where I drop my bag and turn around to face him.

Standing here in the dark, he looks exhausted. I watch as he collapses onto the bed, t-shirt rising slightly to offer a sliver of tanned, taut skin. As hard as he's tried to hide his discomfort, I can see now just how stressed he is, and it's all my fault. He extends his hand, and I take it, allowing him to pull me into the space beside him, where I rest my head on his chest. His skin feels warm, the constant thrum of his heart beneath my ear like a soft melody.

I shiver a little as Max pulls the duvet around me. The heating in here is intermittent at best, so once I'm safely bundled, Max grabs my hands and rubs them between his to keep them warm. This whole day, I'd tried to claw back a sliver of normalcy from the life I had before, but standing in front of Max, I realize this was what I wanted: him and me, me and him, no drama or friendships or meddling families.

Just us.

Deep down, I know it won't last, and that's what scares me the most. One day, Max will turn around, look at the mess I've made of his life, and realize I'm not worth it. My stomach knots. The thought of him walking away when I love him more than anything is my worst nightmare.

"Max?"

His voice comes low and warm in the silence. "Yeah?"

I shift a little to look at him properly. My heart pounds, overloaded with fear and endearment and uncertainty, all of which battle for dominance. "If you decide to leave, can you give me a warning? Like a red flashing sign or a banner, so that I know it's coming. I just – I don't want to be surprised."

He stiffens a little before holding me closer. "I'm not going anywhere."

"But I wouldn't blame you," I say in case that's what's holding him back. Snuggling back into the valleys of his chest, I rest my ear on his heart. "My life is a mess, Max. It's literally falling apart. Sometimes I can't help but wonder why you're still here."

He turns his head to look at me properly. Despite the fact it's dark in here, I can make out the hard, sharp lines of his jaw, softened only by the fullness of his lips. "Because," he says, voice low in my ear, "I love you."

A/N

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