I DON’T CARE FOR MAX’S NO-MORE-KISSES decree, or the way his mood declines as the week drags on.
After school on Tuesday, we drive to the river and park in our spot. He’s distant, even while using the flash cards I made to quiz me on my bio vocabulary. Late Wednesday night, he knocks softly on my window, but when I let him in, he’s surly and restless. He stays thirty minutes before leaving the way he came. Thursday, he goes to a midnight movie premiere with the guys; he doesn’t text before he leaves or after he gets home. I’m not so needy that I require his rapt attention at all hours, but this behavior’s so different from how he’s been since we got together.… I feel like I’m being punished.
Friday, I still haven’t spoken to my dad about Max and me. He’s hardly been home, is part of the reason, but mostly I’m reluctant to slap more angst on the messiness that is my family. I haven’t seen him put one iota of effort into fixing things with Meredith, like he promised, and on the few occasions he and I have shared space, he’s barely been able to look me in the eye.
Max doesn’t get it, though. The well of points I earned talking to Bill and Marcy has run dry, and I end up having to take Meredith’s car to school because he left early to fit in a workout with Kyle before first period.
His fortitude is one part impressive, two parts aggravating.
I suffer through my classes, stewing instead of absorbing the material.
I’m feeling sorry for myself as I navigate the halls after the final bell, wishing Max would materialize. And then he does—the first time I’ve seen him all day. His eyes meet mine, and with a nod of his head, he summons me to a recess beneath the stairwell. I make my way toward him and slip into the nook.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asks without preamble, the underlying cord of tension in his voice hard to miss.
“Kyle and Leah convinced me to go to Leo’s party. Are you going?”
“Planning on it.” And then he asks the question he’s asked every afternoon for the duration of this week: “Talk to your dad yet?”
“Max—” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“Look, Jill. I’m trying to be patient, like you asked. I played along with your game at the Yellow Door. I’ve given you space at school. I’ve crawled through your window instead of walking through the front door like an actual human being. All week I’ve waited, hoping you’d follow through, hoping you’d own up, because I’ve gotta tell you: The way you’re handling this sucks.”
“But I told your parents. And Meredith knows.”
“Yet here we are, arguing in an alcove because you refuse to tell the person who matters most. Your dad’s this huge part of your life. He’s got his reasons for not liking me, and you’re giving them weight. You’re turning me into the villain he thinks I am.”
“It’s just such a bad time.” Stupid—I know as soon as the words leave my mouth.
Max throws up his hands. “Jesus, Jillian, you keep making excuses to let yourself off the hook. That’s probably the same thing your dad did every time he lied to Meredith and climbed into bed with his girlfriend.”
He might as well have socked me in the gut; oxygen rushes from my lungs, leaving me empty. I’d forgotten how utterly excruciating fighting with Max Holden can be.
“That’s a terrible thing to say,” I tell him quietly.
His gaze shifts, like the sight of me leaves him cold—a heartbreaking thought. His scowl is a brutal reminder of how he used to be, before we were us.
“Please, Max. Tell me how to fix this.”
He bristles. “You know how to fix it.”
I reach for his hand. My fingers skim the band of his father’s watch, working their way into his tightened fist. When our palms align, the contact—my skin on his—is unhinging. A dizzying sensation takes me, like the undertow that would’ve dragged me under at the beach a few years ago, had it not been for him. All I can focus on is the sudden, stomach-churning realization that I could lose him over my unwillingness to openly defy my dad, who’s raised me lovingly but disappointed me unequivocally.
Max pulls his hand away, burying it in the pocket of his sweatshirt. I’m at a loss, and I’m agitated, and I’m scheduled for a closing shift at True Brew. It’s almost comical, the idea of serving coffee and conversation when my life’s so screwed up.
“I need to get to work,” I tell him.
His eyes find mine, immobilizing me with their deep discontentment. “Before you go…” He hesitates, uncertainty slogging across his face before he says, “I want normal, you know? And I’m looking for it with you.” He steps nearer, bringing his evergreen scent with him, and I wonder when he’ll he grow tired of having this discussion. He clutches my waist and pulls me against him, so I can’t help but look at him and feel him and breathe him in. He’s strong enough to hold me in this space forever, if he wants to, but I’m relaxing in his arms, drowning in his sad, sad eyes. “I want you, Jill,” he murmurs, “but I don’t understand why you’d choose lying over the truth. Over me.”
He squeezes me to him, burying his face in my hair. My arms wind instinctively around his neck. Warmth blooms in my chest, trickling through my arms and into my hands, all the way to the tips of my fingers. He hasn’t initiated contact for days, and I can’t help but think …
This feels like a good-bye.
I have to fix this. My dad’s been there for me from the very beginning, but it’s Max who I can’t live without.
The realization sends my head spinning, as if the earth is tilting on its axis. I shiver.
He pulls back, eyeing me warily.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, blinking back tears. “I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to my dad. I’ll go to his office after work, before I come to Leo’s. I’ll tell him about us.”
“Really?”
“Really, Max. I’m done with secrets.”
He takes my face in his hands and kisses me, a long press of his mouth to mine. The tears that were tickling my throat a moment ago recede. I’ve missed this; I’ve missed him. When he pulls back, he’s wearing a hint of a smile, and I feel better than I have all week.
He strokes his calloused hands down my neck, his thumbs resting atop my pulse points, the heat of his palms bleeding into my skin. He presses a kiss to my forehead, and thanks to his slight movement, I catch sight of Ivy over his shoulder.
She’s standing ten feet away, watching us from beneath the fringe of her bangs. Her granite gaze meets mine. For an excruciating second, I think she’s going to confront us—confront me—but then her face unfurls, opening in comprehension, in a way I’ve never seen. It only lasts a second, our shared stare, and then she’s gathering her emotions and stowing them away, scurrying down the nearly empty hallway.
To find Becky, I suppose. To tell her everything.
I don’t even care.
Max becomes my center again, his stormy eyes, his warm palms, the persistent thudding of his heart against my ribs. He’s my quiet place, my well of happiness.
I reach up to cover his hands with mine. “Tonight, Max. I’ll tell my dad everything.”
* * *
The coffee shop is quiet when I walk in. Kyle’s mom, who looks up only briefly to smile in greeting, is counting out her cash drawer. Kyle’s restocking the small front refrigerator with dairy products. He doesn’t turn around as I tie on my apron and apologize for being a few minutes late. It isn’t until his mom’s headed out the door that he kicks the fridge closed and pivots to face me. He puts his hands on his hips and widens his stance, the way he does when he addresses his teammates on the football field. “You’re making Max miserable.”
“You talked to him?”
“I’ve been talking to him all week.” He pulls a broom out of the utility closet and whips it around our workspace. “You’re not being fair. Everyone has shit they keep quiet, but I thought you were beyond senseless drama.” He coaxes a pile of coffee grounds and dust bunnies into a dustpan. “I don’t know how much longer he’s gonna put up with you.”
I’m coming apart at the seams. My shift’s over in a couple of hours, and soon I’ll be face-to-face with my dad, admitting that I’ve done exactly what he told me to avoid, confessing that I’ve lied for months. He’s going to be so pissed, and who knows how he’ll cope? He could yell. He could threaten. He could pick a fight with Meredith.
Or he could call the Other Woman.
Bleakness sloshes over me. Kyle pushes the broom back into the closet, then comes my way, reaching out to steady me as I wobble on Jell-O legs.
“Jesus, Jill. What is it?”
I blurt out, “My dad’s been cheating on Meredith.”
He shakes his flaxen hair out of his face. His eyes are wide as pie plates. “Oh, shit.”
“She doesn’t know—not for sure—but still. Things at home are kind of awful.”
“I guess,” he says. “I’m really sorry, Jelly Bean. Wish I would’ve known.”
“Doesn’t matter—it’s no excuse for how unfair I’ve been to Max.”
He wraps an arm around me. “Why didn’t you tell me about your parents?”
“I don’t know. It’s not fun-to-share news. I didn’t want to bug you with my problems.”
“That’s bananas. The only thing you do that bugs me is hold your cards close. I want you to tell me what’s going on in your world. The good and the bad. That’s what friends do—confide, and support each other when things get rough.”
“In that case, there’s more,” I say, because it’s clear now: I need to be straightforward with the people I care about. I need to lean on them in the same ways I expect them to lean on me. And so, I tell Kyle, “I’m not going to the International Culinary Institute after I graduate. There’s no money for it. Meredith and her fertility treatments, the pregnancy, the baby … My school money paid for other things. More important things.” Saying this—meaning it sincerely—is like breaking the surface after being underwater too long. “But don’t worry—my True Brew paychecks will get me to New York eventually.”
Kyle kisses my cheek. “I have no doubt.”
A couple comes through the shop door, pushing a toddler in a stroller. She whines, straining against the buckle that keeps her seated while her parents stand opposite the counter, perusing the menu board like they don’t hear their child squealing. Kyle gives me an oh, hell eye roll, and despite the general crappiness of today, I smile.
“After work,” I tell him over the kid’s yowls, “I’m going to set things straight with my dad, and then when I get to Leo’s, I’m going to find Max, and everything will be perfect.”