Terrible Ideas

Chapter Three

"Remind me why we can't hang out tomorrow?" Chris asked, looking as exhausted as Max felt after the brutal drills their coach made them run. Both of them were slumped against the side of Max's car, unwilling to get in lest it be warmer than it was outside. The breeze, at least, was nice on their sweaty skin.

"I'm going up to help my dad clean up his garage," Max lied, purposefully looking away from his friend so Chris wouldn't see it on his face.

"Oh, right," Chris' voice dropped sympathetically, and Max felt even worse because Chris was an amazing friend. And Max was not. Max grimaced.

"Yeah. It'll be fine," Max assured him to alleviate his concern. Max and his father hadn't really gotten along since he split with Max's mom. "He seemed all right on the phone this week."

"Hope it lasts while you're there then," Chris said, and Max was relieved to see Sean and Jake striding across the school lot toward them. Max waved at them, a little out of character for him, but it ended the conversation.

"So that was hellish," Sean proclaimed once he was in hearing range. "I don't think I'll ever be able to run again."

"Go tell coach that," Jake said, a smirk crossing his face. "See what he says."

"You know what, I changed my mind, I feel amazing. Could probably run another five laps," Sean rolled his eyes and shoved Chris aside so he could fall into the backseat. "But not right now. Right now I'm dead. So dead."

"You'd think you'd finally shut up if you were dead," Chris snickered and the rest of them climbed into the car; Jake in the back with Sean, Chris got shotgun. Max flipped the AC to full blast and let Chris adjust the music. Jake made a sound of protest but Chris ignored it so Max started driving them home.

"You guys wanna head to the rink tomorrow?" Sean asked, and Max perked up for half a second before remembering he had plans. Chris caught the movement and smirked a little.

"Max is busy tomorrow. We should go Sunday," Chris contributed, and Jake shook his head.

"Busy Sunday," Jake said, and Max caught his eyes in the rear-view mirror. Jake didn't look like he was busy on Sunday. "But tomorrow would be great. I'll text some of the other guys and see if they want to come. We could make it a thing."

"I am so down for this," Sean seemed to be coming back to life. "We haven't been on the ice in weeks."

"No, we haven't," Max muttered softly, because he'd been suggesting skating for weeks.

"Sure then," Chris shrugged and offered Max an apologetic look that he waved off with a subtle flick of his wrist. "That works."

They dissolved into conversation about who they should invite along, arguing briefly over a few particularly annoying team members, and Max focused on the road. Max's phone buzzed in the cupholder and Chris picked it up like he usually did to read Max his texts.

"Satan says you better be over by nine tomorrow and that he hates you for disrupting his sleep?" Chris frowned a little and Max was just glad Meg hadn't said anything incriminating.

"That's Meg." Max thought fast. "She wants me to drop off some Chem notes before I leave."

"Oh," Chris said and then snickered. "I appreciate your nickname for her."

"Wait 'till Meg hears it," Sean laughed.

"Oh, she loves me," Max waved off their concerns and they kept going about his immanent death. Max lost himself again, thinking of tomorrow and his imminent second date with Kevin.