SATURDAY. 30. OCTOBER. 21.
"WHERE did you and Tommy get off to anyway?" Carter asked, falling back against the pillow and pulling Max's bed covers over himself.
"Didn't think you'd notice we left," Max yawned, shuffling under the covers as the fuzzy light from the near muted TV on the wall flashed across them.
"I didn't at first," he said, echoing the yawn. "Freya came to ask me where you and Tommy had gone, and I was totally lost. I barely even knew where I was."
"Sounds about right."
Max and Carter had gotten a taxi back to Max's together around half an hour ago, spontaneously deciding that it would be a good idea for Carter to stay over. Fortunately, Tommy had forced Carter to eat while he was drinking, and Max and Freya had been endlessly supplying with him with glasses of water in a desperate attempt to sober him up.
It had sort of helped. There was no doubt that he was still drunk because he'd been drinking way too much to truly sober up in the hour they'd been giving him water, but he was doing much better and he was so settled now that it barely made a difference anyway. He was the tired kind of drunk and it almost made the glassy glints in his bright eyes look like stars.
When they'd arrived at Max's, they'd crept into the house and up the stairs, sneaking discreetly into his bedroom and changing out of their costumes. While Carter changed into a pair of Max's sweatpants and t-shirt, Max disappeared silently into the bathroom to wash off all of the fake blood on his face and neck, praying the whole time that his mom wouldn't wake up.
She was very aware that he'd been out to a party and she wouldn't care about anyone staying over, but he knew that, now she actually came out of her bedroom to see what he got up to, she wouldn't appreciate being woken up and wouldn't hesitate to let him know about it.
So he quietly washed off the blood and splashed his face with cold water, dreaming of how refreshing his morning (or probably afternoon) shower was going to be while he brushed his teeth and pulled out a spare toothbrush for Carter.
While Carter had used the bathroom, he'd returned to his room and pulled back the bedsheets, arranged the pillows and turned on the TV, throwing on a show he was in the middle of watching for some background noise.
As soon as Carter had trudged back into the room, rubbing his eyes and stretching his arms out, he'd immediately clambered into the bed, next to where Max was already lying, and began the humorous yet foggy recap of the party.
After Max's massively relieving plate rampage with Tommy, the two of them had gotten a taxi to Nick's and slipped back into the party around two. Tommy had immediately began the search for Carter to make sure he wouldn't need his stomach pumping by the end of the night and Max had reunited with Danny, Ava and Freya.
It had been a good time, even if he barely had anything to drink and wasn't directly involved in any of the chaos that been unravelling around them. Most of his night was spent on one of the sofas in Nick's living room, leg-to-leg and shoulder-to-shoulder with Freya who had proved to be pretty valuable company. Her more reserved attitude made it much easier for him to relax for once, instead of getting himself into trouble or wandering into some kind of unnecessary conflict.
"So where were you guys?" Carter repeated, lying flat on his back but turning his head to face Max after he dragged his eyes away from the TV screen.
"Smashing plates," he hummed, clumsily reaching for the remote on his bedside table and putting the subtitles on.
He always preferred having the subtitles on. The only reason they were off was because he and Josh had been using his Netflix a few days ago, and Josh was too easily-distracted by them. It was kind of funny how he got so caught up trying to read the subtitles that he actually ended up missing what was happening in the show.
"Smashing plates?" He frowned. "Is that, like, a rage thing?"
"More like a releasing rage type of thing," Max replied, settling the remote back down on the bedside table. "I've never done it before tonight."
"Only window smashing for our Max," he grinned, shaking Max's shoulder playfully.
"One time," Max groaned, cautious to keep his voice soft and covering his face with his hands. "I was coming down from the peak of my teen angst."
"If that was the comedown then I can't imagine what the peak was like," he laughed, voice raspy from a long night of screaming and shouting over music so loud you could feel it in your veins.
"It was rough," Max mumbled.
"You've never really told us about it," Carter pointed out. "Other than Tyler. Obviously there's some daddy issues involved, potentially some mommy issues. What else? You got kicked out of school and lost your friends. What kind of issue is that?"
"I don't care," he said, stifling another yawn. "It sucked but I'm glad it happened."
"What did happen?" He asked tentatively, watching Max while Max watched the ceiling.
Despite the fact that it was just past four in the morning and Max had been yawning non-stop since they'd left Nick's, he didn't feel like he should be sleeping just yet. His body didn't feel tired or weighed down and— even though everything was still a mess up there— his head was starting to feel emptier in the best way possible. Maybe he had enough energy to recount how he'd gotten kicked out of school.
If he was going to tell Carter then this would mark the first time he'd told the truth about it. When some of his old friends reached out to nose after it had first happened and when his dad had demanded an explanation, he'd merely perpetuated the story assumed by the school, enforced a false narrative.
"They found weed in my locker," he said, chest rising with laughter as his eyes remained on the ceiling. After that, the truth and what everyone else thought was the truth began to diverge.
"No way," Carter murmured. "Why would you keep weed in your locker?"
Max dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and shrugged, a lazy smile gracing his lips. "I don't know, dude," he sighed. "It's a long story."
Carter turned on his side and and propped his elbow on the pillow, resting his head against the palm of his hand. "Better get started then," he said, brows tugging into a gentle frown and eyes slightly narrowed.
He shrugged again and exhaled, unable to stop grinning at himself. It all seemed kind of ridiculous looking back. "Tyler and this guy from school were fighting, right?" He began, glancing at Carter who was shaking his head already.
"Why am I not surprised it starts with him?" He scoffed, rolling his eyes.
Using his elbows to push himself further up in bed, Max offered him a small smile.
"Tyler was arguing with this dude at school," he continued. "I can't even remember what it was about, but I remember it was Tyler who started it. I think he started a rumour or something after they got into an argument at some party. Anyway, this dude gets super pissed at Tyler for saying something fucked up about him and Tyler's a massive dick, but he's pretty popular, right? People listen to him, so everyone at school starts passing around what he's been saying and it totally fucks this guy over."
Every minute or so, Carter would nod briskly, like he was about to listen the most interesting story he'd ever heard in his life.
"It's important to note that Tyler didn't always keep his weed at home," Max proceeded. "You know first-hand that his mom and dad are totally against it."
Presumably at the memory of breaking into Tyler's house, Carter grinned.
"So if he ever thought his parents were on high alert or he was worried that one of his hiding places would be found out, he'd start hiding it in his locker—"
"Why wouldn't he just keep at someone else's place?" He asked.
"Because he didn't trust any of them not to smoke it," Max said wryly. "Usually that or people were already getting caught with shit by their own parents. So he used to hide it in his locker and a few guys outside of our inner friendship group knew that he kept there. One of these guys must've been pissed with him one day, too, because he slips it to the guy that Tyler is arguing with that he has weed in his locker."
"So, what? He's a snitch?" Carter almost laughed.
Max raised his brows briskly, face lit by the TV, and pointed a hand at him. "This guy decides that he's so pissed at Tyler he's gonna go straight to the principal and tell him that he thinks Tyler is keeping marijuana on school property."
He laughed. "Man, Tyler sucks so bad, but this guy sounds like a pain in the ass," Carter grinned.
"You know, I really can't remember what Tyler was saying about him, but I bet that whatever it was it wasn't too far from the truth," he agreed. "Anyway, a few people start talking and eventually it gets back to Tyler that they're planning to search his locker so he starts freaking out because he knows his parents are gonna blow up. So he asks me to keep it for him and he promises me that they won't search my locker."
"Fuck me," he muttered.
"Straight away, I think it's bullshit. I think the whole 'they're not gonna check your locker' is bullshit the second he says it to me," Max explained. "They know that people pass shit around, you know? If they have reason to search your locker then they assume the right to search the lockers of people they know you associate with— especially if those people have bad reputations."
"Dangerous ground for you, Maxie."
"I was already on final warnings," he confirmed. "I'd been in two fights so one more of those and they would've looked at kicking me out anyway, but they're drug and alcohol policy is way stricter. There's no second or third chances. They find you with anything like that and they pretty much expel you instantly."
"But you knew that you were gonna get caught," he frowned, cocking his head slightly to the side. "You knew that they were gonna search your locker."
He sighed. "It was a low point," he shrugged after a moment, offering a playful smile. "My friendship with Tyler was getting messier and it was really started to fuck with my head. We were fighting more, he was taking all these digs at me. In front of people, he'd pick fights with me, knowing that our friends would back him up, and then he'd come over to my place unannounced and try to play best friend. Sometimes boyfriend. Things were bad with my dad, too. He and I were fighting constantly."
"About you causing shit in school?" Carter asked, simultaneously light and sympathetic.
"About everything," he replied. "Mentally, I guess I was in a really bad place. I was drinking more and smoking a lot, spending all my time with people who didn't give a shit about me. Then obviously my relationship with Tyler was completely fucked up and I guess it must've depressed me because I just remember being angry all the time. In school, I'd hold it all in and then I'd get home and my dad would start losing his shit because I was failing another class or had been reported for disruptions or skipping and a million other things."
"So then you'd flip out on him?" Carter inquired softly.
"Pretty much. Either we had these really intense, explosive arguments or we ignored each other," he continued, shaking his head. "Back on topic, I knew they were gonna search my locker and I knew I was gonna kicked out of school. That's why I let him use my locker. I figured that it would be a push, you know? It would get me away from Tyler and the others, and it would make my dad go batshit. It was a win-win for me, even though I was purely motivated by angst and rage."
Carter laughed at that. "Good message," he grinned.
"It was stupid," Max said. "It was very, very fucking stupid and I should've just spoken to my dad to save the trouble, but I was so angry and so sad and so alone all the time and I just didn't care anymore."
"In the end then, you got kicked out for something you didn't do?"
"Technically."
"What did you tell your dad?" He frowned.
"Told him it was my weed," he shrugged. "Pissed him off and that's what I wanted. It's miserable to think about."
"Did you know he was gonna kick you out of the house for it?" Carter pressed, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.
"Nah," Max said. "He probably wouldn't have either if I hadn't punched him in the face."
Carter buried his face in his hands and laughed into them. "You're fucked up," he said, the words muffled. "Why the fuck do you do shit like that?"
Max let his head fall against the headboard and laughed, desperately trying to stay quiet. He couldn't help it. Tonight had already been long but he could've lived in it forever. It was the kind of night that made you nostalgic for the beginning before the end had even arrived. His chest was tight with laughter and his eyes were squeezed shut, the corners of his lips pulled into a vibrant smile.
He turned his head to look at Carter and grinned at him fondly. "You don't happen to have a story like that?"
"Sorry to disappoint," he grinned. "I actually get along really well with both of my parents and I've been friends with the guys since freshman year."
"Asshole," Max mumbled, laughing when Carter shoved him.
"There's been rough patches," he shrugged when Max stopped laughing, "but I think I've mostly been happy. Good support system, you know? Need advice? Danny. Need someone to listen? Tommy. Need someone to cut the bullshit and be brutally honest? Cole. Pretty useful."
"Yeah," Max agreed quietly. "Guess you've got a good point."
All night, his mind had been drifting back to Cole and now it was happening again. This conversation was the longest that he'd gone without thinking about him and any other attempts to keep going proved to be fruitless. Eventually, he'd just accepted it. At Nick's, he'd even indulged himself, only interrupting the thoughts when Freya asked if he was okay or Danny teased him for daydreaming.
It couldn't be helped. Constantly, he wondered where Cole was, what he was doing, who he was with, if he was okay. A million different scenarios and a thousand different stories painted and told themselves over and over, and Cole didn't look happy in a single one of them. In every fleeting image, there was something lonely about him, something dreadfully detached and locked away. It was almost like part of him was missing, like there was some piece of him that Max was forgetting, that his brain was unable to conjure.
Not seeing him wasn't the end of the world, as much as it disappointed him. His disappointment and regret were bothering him more than Cole.
Admittedly, he had been harsher earlier than he probably should've been. Sure, it sucked that Cole had been consistently checking all week long that Max was going, just for him to not even turn up, but it wasn't his fault, right? He hadn't said that he changed his mind about coming, he'd said that he couldn't come and his apology sounded pretty genuine.
The more that Max thought about it, the guiltier he felt. His anger had passed hours ago (Tommy had the right idea about smashing things up) and he was glad to be rid of it, but now he felt sort of hollow.
It was disappointing that he couldn't have the night of fun with Cole that he'd been ready for but it was unfair to say that it hadn't been a good night. Besides, there would always be other parties and there would always be more opportunities for them to have carefree nights together.
Half of him knew that he was blowing things out of proportion. He knew that it wasn't as big of a deal as it felt but sometimes it was too hard to distinguish between how he felt about the situation and what the situation actually was.
In his old friendship group, his 'emotional outbursts' had always been labelled dramatic and over the top. For a long time, he'd convinced himself that everyone was right to tell him that, that nothing was as much of an issue as he made it.
But leaving that group and looking back offered him some kind of clarity, like little epiphanies that were only awarded once you'd escaped those circumstances and were reflecting on them. If he was still with Tyler and the others, he wouldn't yet have realised and accepted that his 'emotional outbursts' were completely justified responses for what had been happening to him. Knowing that now made him feel better.
The only problem was that now he was so determined not to let it happen again that he started getting all in his head about it. He was so determined to convince himself that his feelings were justified that it was becoming hard to tell when he was exaggerating — which meant he was always second guessing himself. The line between reasonable and unreasonable was becoming blurrier everyday.
All he knew for sure was that he didn't want to be pissed off with Cole, especially not since he was apparently in a rough place. Max knew better than anyone what it was like to be in a rough place and to be misunderstood because of it.
It was all complicated. Not only was he confused about his feelings, he was confused about Cole's. If he was justified in his anger, then how could he keep putting up with the way Cole was making his head spin? Escaping Tyler was making him hyperaware of risks like that; he couldn't go through it all again.
Of course, he didn't think Cole was like Tyler. He didn't think Cole would purposely play with his heart or mess with his head, but he hadn't thought that about Tyler at first either.
When he'd communicated this concern with Wren, she'd continued to emphasise the importance of communication, but had also emphasised the importance of the other party actually being wiling to listen and communicate back.
That seemed tough. It felt like there were barriers that had unexpectedly sprung up around Cole, blocking him off and pulling him out of Max's reach. This week had been better, he supposed, so at least they had that going for them.
He glanced at Carter who had fallen asleep in their extended silence, the low, muffled noise of the flashing TV not enough to keep him awake.
As he settled back into bed and shuffled underneath the covers, he told himself that he would call Cole tomorrow, maybe even ask him to hangout.
Still trying to get comfortable, he turned the TV off. Usually, he slept with it on to protect himself from being trapped alone with his thoughts in the night silence. Carter was here now, and that made him feel less lonely.
Settling down into bed, he tried to forget about Cole and instead tried to imagine plates smashing against the ground.
NOTE
Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed then remember to vote and comment!
Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate and I hope all those who don't have a lovely day :')
There's a possibility that chapters will be posted more frequently but remember to read at your own pace! Don't feel pressured to keep up with the updates :') It's just so I can complete the book sooner and hopefully begin editing / start other projects!
If you read this far then thanks again :')
NEXT UPDATE
probably Monday!