Max wasn’t drinking. He dutifully bought each round at the bar and watched his friends down countless shots and bottles of beer, but he ensured that he remained stone cold sober. A part of him was ready to spring into action if anything kicked off.
But to his surprise the night was going by without any real hitch. Henry and Aaron were getting merry and trying to chat up any girls who were within their radius. The music from the jukebox was set to some pretty decent rock, and Max actually started to relax. But then he stiffened, remembering that Brittany was out of town. He missed her more than he cared to admit.
Henry was getting cozy with a hard-faced brunette who wore too much makeup. She was perched up on his knee, letting him grope up and down her legs. No doubt Henry would be fixing to take her back to the motel with them. A busty blonde was sitting next to Aaron, hanging on his every word. It never failed to surprise Max how women would flock to gang members. They were drawn to the danger he supposed. Stupid, he thought.
As he lingered by the bar, he worked tirelessly to discourage a drunken woman’s advances. He didn’t have eyes for any of them, not matter how much they purred in his ear or gazed at him with their “fuck-me” eyes.
They’d been out for almost three hours when Henry staggered over, one arm draped around his soon to be conquest.
“We’re heading back to the motel,” he informed Max, slurring his words.
“Okay, sure,” Max nodded in approval.
“You coming?” a mischievous light shone out from Henry’s gaze.
“No, I’ll hang back here a while longer,” Max leaned against the bar, emphasizing how he had no intention of going back just yet.
“You sure?” the brunette batted her eyelashes at him. “Could be fun to add one more.”
Henry laughed and slapped her on the ass. “Me and Max ain’t becoming tunnel buddies yet, honey. Unless you wanna ride her both ways with me?”
Max’s younger self would have accepted such an offer. He’d have gone back to the motel with Henry and placed the brunette on all fours between them. They’d toss a coin to see who got heads and who got tails.
“I’ll pass,” Max gave them a tight smile. “But thanks.”
“Your loss, buddy,” Henry slapped him on the shoulder before walking out with his prize under his arm. Will followed shortly after, stumbling out the door towards the parking lot. Max decided to take his time before heading back to the motel himself, afraid of what sight might await him if he headed back too soon.
# # #
“So I’ve got a boyfriend,” Brittany blurted out after her second bottle of beer. Zack had actually laughed a couple of times while she’d been there. The atmosphere between them felt relaxed and comfortable, or maybe that was just the beer she’d been drinking. But suddenly, it felt extremely important to be honest with Zack about Max.
“A boyfriend?” Zack lowered his bottle of beer which had been half-way to his lips.
“Uh huh,” Brittany nodded a little too quickly, making herself feel dizzy. “His name is Max.”
“Max,” Zack mouthed the name as though it left a bad taste in his mouth. “What does this Max do?”
Brittany opened her mouth to respond and then snapped it shut. She wasn’t exactly sure of what Max did.
“He’s a businessman,” she said after a pause.
“Hmm,” Zack seemed unconvinced as he had a swig of beer.
“He makes me very happy,” Brittany hiccupped. “He’s a…a good guy.”
“I’m sure he’s swell,” Zack declared bitterly.
“Why aren’t you happy for me?” Brittany demanded contritely, feeling hurt by her brother’s lack of enthusiasm.
“Brittany,” he sighed as he said her name. “You’ve been in Colridge for what? A month? And you’re already involved with some guy. You don’t want to be rushing into anything. You’re young.”
“So what? You can fuck someone, but I can’t!” Brittany raged, staggering up to her feet.
“He better not be fucking you,” Zack also stood up, firmly gripping her shoulders. “You best be conducting yourself like a lady, Brittany!”
“I am!” she insisted, shrugging him off. “And Max cares about me! He doesn’t just leave me in the morning. He sticks around.”
If shame was a color, she saw it on her brothers face right at that moment.
“He’s not like you,” she added coldly, digging that dagger deeper into her brother’s heart.
“Fine,” Zack dropped back onto the sofa. “I’m a dick and this guy Max is a saint, whatever. You got a picture of him?”
“Hmm? Yeah,” Brittany reached for her cell phone but in her drunken state she struggled to work it.
“Hang on,” she forced herself to focus really hand on scrolling through the menu.
“There’s one here somewhere…”
“Am I going to meet this Max guy?” Zack wondered. He didn’t sound thrilled at the idea.
“Uh huh,” Brittany nodded, still fixated on her phone. She just knew that Zack and Max would hit it off. After all, they both liked motorcycles.
She only had the one picture of Max on her phone. She’d taken it one morning when they were in bed together and the sunlight coming through the window had hit his face in such a way that it made him look perfect, and she felt compelled to capture the moment forever.
“Here,” she handed the phone over to her brother. “That’s Max.”