teenage tragedy (Max Mayfield)

4. three

Cammie sighed as the hot water burned her skin in the shower, tilting her head back so she could wash her hair. She loved hot showers, even though she used to prefer cold showers. Now, cold showers just reminded her of the time Callum had possessed her last year.

Cammie washed her hair and body and then got out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel and turning the water off. She didn't look at the mirror, even though Max had covered it with a towel, and headed into her bedroom.

Max was sprawled on Cammie's bed, nodding along to the record player playing Kate Bush Runnin' Up That Hill on repeat because it was Max's favourite song right now. She was still in her school clothes, doing her homework and Cammie's. Max doing Cammie's homework was the only reason Cammie hadn't completely failed out of ninth grade.

Then again, Cammie knew her dad had weekly meetings with the school to keep them off her back, telling them she was really struggling. And she was lucky that all of her teachers seemed to understand why Cammie couldn't do her work, or wouldn't. As far as they knew, she couldn't even talk and she had a jacked up neck. That would tip any teenage girl over the edge.

"We've still got two hours before your mom gets home. I'm nearly finished with this and then we have time to chill. What do you wanna do?" Max asked, not looking up from her homework as Cammie grabbed underwear and some tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt to change into.

"Don't know. Movie?" Cammie said, dropping her towel to get dressed.

"I have an idea," Max said, eyes firmly on Cammie's body.

"You know, depression is meant to kill your sex drive. How has it made yours sky rocket?" Cammie said, tugging her sweatpants and t-shirt on.

"I just think my girlfriend is beautiful. And I know she doesn't love her body, but I do, and I want to show her that she is always going to be the most beautiful girl in the world to me," Max said.

"You're sweet, daydreamer," Cammie smiled slightly at Max as she grabbed her hairbrush.

"Oh, let me braid it! Please?" Max said, sitting up and shoving the textbooks aside.

Cammie nodded and grabbed some hair ties, sitting on the bed and handing Max the hairbrush. Max brushed Cammie's wet hair and separated it into two, starting to braid the blonde strands carefully.

"Do you think your mom hates me because she knows?" Max asked.

"She doesn't know about us. We'd know if she did. And she doesn't hate you. She just thinks us being as close as we are doesn't help me get better," Cammie said.

"Do you think she's right?" Max asked, chewing on her bottom lip.

"No. Marissa doesn't know shit about what actually happened. She doesn't know why we're so close, and she never will. She won't understand it. But we do. Steve does, and so do the guys and Robin and Nancy and stuff. We're codependent, yeah, but I'd be dead without you keeping me here," Cammie said.

"Do you ever worry that we won't?" Max asked, tying the first braid off.

"That we won't what?" Cammie said.

"Get better. That, like, this is it for us. This is all we'll ever feel. It'll just be me and you, hiding from the world?" Max said.

"I feel better when I'm with you. Doesn't that count?" Cammie said quietly, looking at Max before she started on the second braid.

Max nodded, cupping Cammie's cheeks.

"Of course it counts, baby. That's not what I meant it to sound like. It's just... I don't know. You think the pain will ever go away? For good?" Max asked.