keep driving // max mayfield

06

I sat on my bed, music playing on my radio, reading A Clockwork Orange. It was about a three hours after my shower, and much to my dismay, my hair was still wet. My desk window faced a room in the Hargrove's new house, I had spend the last 30 minutes trying to figure out who's room it was. 

I kept reading, but every so often I looked up from my book, checking if the curtains or blinds were open. If it was Billy's room I think I might've tossed myself off my roof. I saw a bright glimpse of light shine in my otherwise dimly lit room. I looked up and saw that the curtains were pushed to the side. From my bed, I couldn't see who it was that opened them, so I sat up and walked to the middle of my room.

Fuck. 

Max didn't see me from her window, but I got a good look of her entire room. It was blue, undecorated and neat. Her skateboard was propped next to her bed. Unlike my bed, which was placed in a corner, her bed was right in the middle of the room, tall with, decorative pillows? 

That does not seem like her style.

I threw my book on my bed, and walked next to my desk, trying to get a better look of her room. She still didn't see me, instead she took off her headphones and put them on her desk. She moved her hands to the hem of her shirt, and took it off, leaving her only in a bra. Her body was covered in freckles. 

Fuck I should stop staring.

I tried to look away, but I couldn't stop looking at her. She was so perfect. It looked like she was sculpted by a god or something. There was something about the way her body stood. It was almost as though someone had pulled her spine up and glued it in place. From head to waist she stood completely straight. She took a deep breath and started to unbutton her jeans. I forced myself to look away. 

Stop being a fucking weirdo. 

I grabbed my book and continued reading, trying my best to avoid looking out the window. It's not like I wanted to be a creep, it was just hard to stop looking out my only window. I needed to get up and do something. Idle hands or something like that. 

I walked passed the window and made sure not even to peek at her. I walked out of my bedroom and went downstairs. My mother and father were discussing something in the living room, and as I walked down the stairs I heard my name. 

They were speaking in hushed tones, as if there was a big secret they couldn't say at normal volume. 

"Mon amour, I'm worried about her." I heard my mother whisper.

"She's a kid, they all go through things like this." My father replied.

"I don't understand what happened! I look at her and I don't see my girl anymore, she is a uh.... ghost" 

"She's growing up, did you expect her to stay a kid forever?" My father said.

"The drinking? The smoking? That is not our girl." She said.

I heard my father sigh. "I know darling, I suppose you have a point."

I couldn't hear any more of this conversation. I walked down the stairs, making sure to make as much noise as possible. 

"Mama!" I yelled.

"Ma cherie!" I heard her say. 

I walked into the living room, putting on a fake smile. My father was sitting on a chair, while my mother was on the couch. I lied down on her lap, she kissed me on the head and smiled. 

"Comment ça va?" She asked me.

"Juste fatigué" I said.

"Ladies, English please." My father said.