The hum of the car engine was steady and comforting as the Thundermans made their way back to Hiddenville. The adrenaline of last night's battle had faded, leaving behind a deep, peaceful exhaustion. The car was warm, the kind of cozy that made it easy to relax, to drift.

Melanie sat beside Max in the backseat, her head resting lightly against the window as she stared out at the road. Trees blurred by, the sky painted with the soft pastel hues of early morning. Her eyes felt heavy, but it wasn't just sleep pulling her under—it was the kind of peacefulness that came from feeling safe, feeling like she belonged.

Max was beside her, his head tilted slightly toward hers, his hand resting casually between them. His fingers brushed against hers, the lightest touch, but enough to send a warmth through her.

She turned her head, catching his gaze. His eyes were softer than she'd seen before, the kind of look that didn't need words. The kind that said I'm glad you're here.

Melanie smiled, her voice barely above a whisper. "Tired?"

Max chuckled lowly. "Completely. But if I fall asleep, I might miss something."

"Like what?" she teased, her eyes glimmering.

He shrugged lightly, a playful smirk on his lips. "Like you falling asleep first. Can't let you win that one."

Melanie shook her head, leaning her head back against the seat. "I think we both lost that battle the second we sat down."

Max's grin softened, and without thinking, his hand moved closer, fingers gently grazing hers. Their hands didn't quite link, but the electricity of the almost-touch lingered between them. The tension, sweet and comfortable, stretched as the car rocked them gently.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. It was hard to tell. The hum of conversation from the front seat faded into the background, as did the quiet breathing of Billy and Nora as they dozed off.

And then, Max's head tipped slightly, his shoulder brushing against Melanie's. She didn't pull away. Instead, she shifted closer, their arms touching, her head tilting until it rested lightly against his shoulder.

Max glanced down, his heart stuttering in his chest—but in the best way. Carefully, he leaned his head against hers. The moment was simple, but it was perfect. It was more than the after-battle adrenaline, more than shared danger. It was safe. It was sweet.

Melanie's eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting slightly. She was so close. Close enough that Max could feel her breath, soft and even.

And he couldn't help it. Slowly, he tilted his head, brushing the softest kiss to her forehead.

Melanie's eyes opened halfway, a lazy, soft smile curling at her lips. She looked up at him, and for a moment, nothing else existed. Just them, the warmth between them, the quiet hum of the road.

Then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was gentle, slow, the kind of kiss that didn't need fireworks to feel powerful. It was comfort, connection. It was real. Max's hand came up, his fingers brushing her cheek, anchoring her there, not wanting the moment to end.

But just as the kiss deepened—

RING RING.

The sharp sound of Melanie's phone shattered the moment. She pulled back with a soft gasp, eyes wide, cheeks flushed with warmth and surprise.

Max blinked, still caught in the haze of what had just happened, but reality was quick to catch up. He gave her a lopsided smile as she fumbled for her phone.

"Sorry," she whispered, biting her lip as she glanced down. "It's Taylor."

Max groaned softly, leaning his head back against the seat. "Of course it is."

Melanie giggled, her eyes still bright as she answered. "Hey, Taylor!"

Taylor's voice came through loud and energetic, even through the speaker. "Hey, Mel! Just checking in. I already miss you. So, about that coffee date—"

Melanie laughed lightly. "We'll definitely make it happen. I'll text you when I'm back home."

Max groaned again, though it wasn't entirely serious. "Tell her you're busy. You've got more important plans," he muttered.

Taylor's laugh echoed over the phone. "Oh, is Max there? Hi, Max!"

"Yeah, he's here," Melanie said, glancing at him with a playful grin. "And he's being a little grumpy."

"Grumpy?" Taylor teased. "What, is he jealous?"

Melanie's eyes sparkled as she glanced at Max, who was trying and failing to look unaffected. "Maybe a little."

"Aw, Max," Taylor teased through the phone. "Don't worry, I'm not stealing your girl."

Melanie giggled, but Max only shook his head. "I'm not jealous. Why would I be jealous?"

"Because," Taylor said, "I'm more fun than you."

Max rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him. "I'm not even gonna dignify that with an answer."

Melanie chuckled, covering the receiver slightly as she whispered to Max, "You are kind of jealous."

He looked at her, his gaze softening, voice low. "Only because I just got you. And I don't plan on losing you to anyone—coffee dates included."

Melanie's breath caught slightly, but her grin didn't fade. She reached for his hand beneath the blanket draped over their laps, their fingers tangling quietly out of sight.

Taylor's voice chimed in again. "Alright, I'll let you two lovebirds get back to your ride. But I'm holding you to that coffee date, Mel!"

"You got it," Melanie said, her voice warm. "Talk soon, Tay."

As she ended the call, she turned back to Max, still holding his hand.

"So," she teased, "you're really not jealous?"

Max shrugged lightly, but his thumb brushed over her knuckles. "Maybe just a little. But only because I like you."

Melanie leaned in slightly, her voice soft and teasing. "You mean you really like me?"

Max's smirk deepened. "Maybe more than that."

She chuckled, leaning her head back on his shoulder. "Good. Because I like you too, Max Thunderman."

And just like that, the car hummed softly beneath them, their friends and family resting around them, the world fading into quiet comfort.

Max glanced down at her, his heart full, and pressed one last, light kiss to her hair.

And as they drove on, heading back to Hiddenville, it wasn't just the road that stretched ahead—it was possibilities, new chapters, the start of something good.

Something real.

☆☆

Melanie walked into the kitchen just as Phoebe's music blasted through the speakers again. She froze in the doorway, her eyes lighting up as the beat of MKTO's "Classic" filled the room.

"Oh my gosh!" Melanie gasped, her eyes wide. "Are we having an MKTO morning? Why didn't anyone wake me up?"

Phoebe grinned, flipping her hair dramatically. "You're just in time for the most epic contest win ever."

Melanie practically bounced to the counter, leaning over excitedly. "Don't tell me—it's the 'Most Outrageous Fan' contest, isn't it?"

"You know it," Phoebe said, clicking off the music. "And I'm so gonna win. I already served breakfast to my cardboard friends, Malcolm and Tony." She gestured proudly to the two life-size cardboard cutouts standing awkwardly at the table, both sporting paper napkins tucked into their nonexistent collars.

Melanie's eyes widened as she took in the scene, a laugh bubbling out of her. "This is the most amazing, crazy thing I've ever seen... and I love it."

Max groaned from where he sat slouched at the kitchen table, pushing his half-eaten pancakes around with his fork. "Yeah, it's amazing until you're the one getting woken up by MKTO at full volume." He shot Phoebe a mock glare, though there was no real heat behind it.

"Oh, come on, Max," Melanie teased as she slid into the seat next to him. "You're just mad you didn't think of feeding bacon to your favorite band first."

Max shot her a sideways look. "I'd rather feed them to the front row and keep the noise down."

Barb walked in from the living room, a coffee mug in hand, just as Phoebe's powers sparked, zapping the bacon plate across the counter. "That's for Tony. He loves apple-smoked bacon."

Melanie giggled. "And Malcolm? What's his favorite?"

"Pancakes," Phoebe answered without hesitation, flipping one onto the plate. "But hold the pineapple. Tony's allergic."

Hank walked in behind Barb, sniffing the air. "Smells good in here. Who's the lucky guy?"

"Malcolm and Tony," Max deadpanned, gesturing to the cardboard cutouts. "Our new kitchen guests."

Hank blinked. "You're feeding the cutouts?"

"It's for the contest," Melanie chimed in, as if that explained everything. "She's gotta prove she's MKTO's number one fan."

Hank raised an eyebrow. "What, by feeding them breakfast?"

"It's a whole experience," Phoebe explained, waving her arms like a game show host. "I'm taking fan dedication to the next level."

Melanie leaned over and whispered to Max with a grin, "Honestly, I'm a little jealous I didn't think of it first. I love MKTO."

Max rolled his eyes, though there was the hint of a smile. "Yeah, well, just don't let her rope you into serving them lunch too."

"Too late," Melanie whispered, already daydreaming about an MKTO-themed lunch.

Barb took a sip of her coffee, eyeing the cardboard cutouts. "You know, I'm all for creativity, but should we be worried about this?"

Hank chuckled. "What? It's a teenage girl going gaga over a boy band. Totally normal."

"Not her," Max said, nodding to Phoebe. "Him."

Everyone turned to look at the Malcolm cutout, which was slightly slanted, its edges fraying.

Hank scratched his head. "So... where you come from, is everyone made out of cardboard?"

Melanie laughed, nudging Max with her shoulder. "At least cardboard Malcolm is quieter than you were this morning."

Max gave her a mock-offended look. "Wow. Betrayed by my favorite person."

Melanie's smile softened, her gaze playful. "Well, maybe if you learned the dance routine, I'd be on your side."

Phoebe gasped dramatically. "Yes! Max, you have to learn it!"

Max groaned loudly, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Over my dead body."

Melanie leaned in, her voice teasing. "Then I guess you'll have to watch from the sidelines while we win the contest."

Max's eyes narrowed, but his grin gave him away. "I don't know. Watching you dance sounds way better than actually joining in."

Melanie giggled, and for a second, it felt like the whole kitchen warmed with their easy banter. Even if Max wouldn't admit it, he loved moments like this—ones where Melanie's laughter made the morning feel lighter.

Phoebe, undeterred, turned the music back on, the chorus blasting again. She grabbed Melanie's hand, pulling her up from her seat. "Come on! If we're winning this contest, we have to practice."

Melanie didn't hesitate, her eyes bright as she spun with Phoebe, their laughter filling the kitchen.

Max watched, leaning back in his chair with a grin, shaking his head. "You're all crazy."

But watching Melanie, hearing her laugh, Max wasn't really complaining.

Not even a little.

Max leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he watched Phoebe and Melanie spin around the kitchen, laughing and belting out the lyrics to "Classic." The music, the energy, the cardboard cutouts—he was pretty sure he was the only sane one in the room.

"You guys are way too into this," Max muttered, his voice laced with mock annoyance.

Melanie shot him a playful grin as she twirled around, her hair fanning out behind her. "Come on, Max. You can't tell me this isn't fun."

"Oh, it's a blast," he said dryly, his eyes flicking to the cardboard cutouts. "Feeding pancakes to cardboard boy bands? Peak entertainment."

Melanie stopped mid-spin, her eyes glinting with mischief as she crossed her arms and walked over to him. "Okay, so maybe it's a little crazy," she admitted with a grin. "But it's fun crazy."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Fun for you, maybe. I'm starting to feel like I'm competing for your attention with a guy made of cardboard."

Melanie laughed, her gaze softening as she leaned down, her arms resting on the back of his chair. "Oh, come on, Max. You know there's no competition."

He smirked. "Could've fooled me."

Phoebe, still dancing in the background, chimed in without missing a beat. "Don't be jealous, Max. Malcolm can't give her lunch dates."

Melanie chuckled, her eyes twinkling as she looked back at Max. "Exactly. And speaking of lunch..." She tilted her head, her grin widening. "Let me make it up to you. I'll take you out. Just you and me. No cardboard guys allowed."

Max's smirk deepened. "Yeah? You gonna promise not to talk about MKTO the whole time?"

Melanie pretended to think, tapping her chin dramatically. "Hmm... I could promise that. But I might need a little incentive."

Max narrowed his eyes, intrigued. "Like what?"

"Like you agreeing that deep down, you love their music just as much as I do," she teased.

Max groaned, but the playful glint in his eyes gave him away. "Fine. I'll go to lunch with you. But only because you bribed me with food."

"Food and my undivided attention," Melanie said with a wink. "No band talk, no cardboard cutouts. Just us."

Max gave a mock sigh. "Well, if I have to suffer through lunch with my favorite person, I guess I'll survive."

Melanie's laugh was light, genuine. "Good. It's a date then."

Phoebe glanced over, smirking. "A date, huh? Should I be concerned about Malcolm getting jealous?"

Max shot her a look, but Melanie just giggled, leaning closer. "If Malcolm wants to challenge Max, he's gonna have to bring more than cardboard charm."

Max grinned, shaking his head as he stood up. "Good luck to him."

Melanie smiled, watching him go before turning back to Phoebe. "He's gonna love it. I'll make sure it's the best lunch ever."

Phoebe grinned knowingly. "Yeah, I think he already knows that."

Max stood at the ordering screen in Splatburger, squinting at the futuristic, slightly confusing menu. The neon-lit tubes above him hissed quietly, as if waiting to fire food at unsuspecting customers. Beside him, Oyster looked entirely too excited about the whole process.

"Oyster, do you have any idea how to order fries on this thing?" Max asked, poking at the screen like it might bite him.

Oyster grinned. "First time at Splatburger? You get Splat hats."

Max raised an eyebrow, his hand automatically running through his carefully styled hair. "Uh, no hats, dude. We're kind of known for our hair."

Oyster looked him over, as if considering this deeply. "Oh. What's that like?" He shrugged and then tapped the screen confidently. "Anyway, here's the deal—everything's pre-cooked, so you just punch your order in like this, and it shoots out of these tubes onto your plate. Splat away!" He chuckled, clearly enjoying Max's confusion.

Max nodded slowly. "Sweet. Cool. Food from tubes. The future is here, boys."

Oyster leaned in, lowering his voice dramatically. "Uh, I'm legally bound to tell you there's no way to actually clean these babies." He tapped the metal counter with a smirk. "Good luck."

Moments later, a loud thud echoed as Max's order shot from the tube onto his plate. A pickle bounced off and rolled across the table. Max stared at it for a second. "Ah, bonus pickle." He grinned and grabbed it, popping it into his mouth.

Just as Max was about to sit down, Oyster nudged him with his elbow and nodded toward the entrance. "Whoa, check it out. It's that girl from school you think likes you."

Max turned slightly, his eyes landing on Cassandra as she walked in, her dark hair falling over her shoulders, her confidence filling the room.

"Her name's Cassandra, and she does like me," Max replied confidently, though his eyes flickered with uncertainty. "We play ignore-flirt all the time. It's a thing."

They watched as a guy—Craig, maybe—approached Cassandra, clearly working up the nerve to ask her something.

"I wish I could go out with you, Craig," Cassandra said casually, tossing her hair back, "but I can't. I'm going to the MKTO concert on Friday."

Craig's face fell, and he walked off.

Oyster chuckled. "She shut him down. But at least she spoke to him."

Max shot him a look. "Clam it, Oyster. I've got an idea."

Just then, the bell over the door chimed, and Melanie strolled in, her easy smile lighting up the place. She looked completely relaxed, dressed in a soft, oversized sweater and jeans, her hair tucked behind her ears. She spotted Max immediately, her smile widening as she walked over and slid into the booth beside him.

"Hey, you," she greeted, leaning in for a quick kiss, which Max returned without hesitation. "How's the future-food treating you?"

"Apparently, I got lucky with a bonus pickle," Max said, holding up the little green slice like it was a prize.

Melanie laughed, her gaze soft. "You're so easy to impress."

"Hey, don't underestimate the power of a good pickle," Max replied, his grin crooked. "But it's better now that you're here."

Melanie's eyes flicked toward Cassandra, who was ordering at the counter. "Friend of yours?" she asked lightly.

"Someone from school," Max said, brushing it off with a shrug. "Oyster thinks she likes me, but I already have someone better." His hand slid under the table to squeeze Melanie's, his thumb brushing over her skin.

Melanie smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Good answer. You know, I was thinking... after lunch, how about we head out to the park? Just the two of us?"

Max grinned, brushing his lips over her forehead. "Sounds perfect."

Just as the moment settled between them, Melanie's phone buzzed. She glanced at it and let out a soft laugh. "Taylor. She's just checking in. We were talking about the concert earlier."

She answered the call, her voice light and playful as she greeted Taylor. Max watched her, an unfamiliar twinge of jealousy stirring in his chest as the two girls giggled and chatted. He tried not to eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to hear snippets of their laughter.

Oyster leaned closer, smirking. "Jealous, dude?"

Max shot him a glare. "No. Why would I be jealous?"

Oyster just chuckled, leaning back with a knowing look.

Melanie finally ended the call, her cheeks flushed from laughing. "Sorry, Taylor's hilarious."

"Yeah, clearly," Max said, trying to keep his voice light, though Melanie caught the edge of his tone.

She tilted her head, studying him. "Hey," she said softly, reaching for his hand. "You know you're my favorite, right?"

Max's smile returned, small but genuine. "Yeah. I know."

She squeezed his hand, her eyes warm. "Good. Because there's no competition."

Max glanced at Cassandra, then back at Melanie, and realized that the only person he wanted to be sitting next to was already here.

"Come on," Melanie said with a grin, standing up and tugging on his arm. "Let's ditch the tubes and go grab real food."

Max stood, his grin matching hers. "Only if I