A/N: Roxanne is special on a 'first waifu' basis, so I'm definitely gonna do more with her in the future. Regardless, sit back, relax, and enjoy!
Two Goofs, One Love
Okay, Max, okay, be cool. You got this, you got all of this, every single bit of it, yeah… you're cool, icy cool even, so cool you're causing ice fronts all up and down the hall—
"YO MAXIMUS!"
The voice that erupted just behind him nearly caused Max to give the most high-pitched scream of his short life, and the only thing that stopped it was the hand he slapped over his mouth.
"I can't help but notice that you seem to be sorely lacking in the cheese department, Maxim," his best friend, Bobby, exclaimed with that all-too-eager grin of his, and he indicated to the can of Cheddar Whizzy in his hand. "You ready to get cheesed or what?"
Any other time—literally any other time—Max still would have declined the generous offer to get 'cheesed' but he had to especially decline right now.
"Bobby, dude, what the—no, I'm not ready to get cheesed, man, when am I ever ready for that?" Max snapped, frantically glancing back around the corner. He saw a lot of the regular cliques: the jocks, the cheerleaders, the science nerds, the comic geeks, he saw every one of them… except for her, except his reason to breathe, his goddess. And for that, he gave a sigh of relief. "Dude, Bobby… you can't be on that crazy cheese tip today, man, not today."
Bobby reared back like he was a vampire and Max had just pelted him with garlic. "Blasphemy, my dude! Every day is cheese day, and this day even more-so," Bobby went on excitedly, and he threw an arm around Max's neck, dragging his reluctant friend in closer. "Because today, ooooh, today… what we have here is—"
With a grand flourish, Bobby flipped the can upright—
"—a brand spanking new flavor!"
—and what Max saw caused his stomach to flip.
"Blue… wait a minute…." Squinting, praying that he wasn't seeing right, Max pointed with a finger. "Does… does that say blueberry flavor?"
"Yup!" Bobby remarked proudly.
"As in blueberry flavored cheese?"
"Indeed, bruh!"
From where Max was standing, there was absolutely nothing about that can, the cheese, or the revolting flavor of said cheese to be excited about. The twisted mind behind such a invention needed a swift bat to the knee in Max's opinion but there were literal stars glistening just under Bobby's shades, like he had just found his true love.
"They've been hyping this flavor up all month and finally! It's here! And look it, when I tell ya it's good? It's soooo good," Bobby drawled, and he rubbed the can up and down his cheek so sensually that Max felt his left eye twitch. Then he turned to Max with an inquisitive stare. "Hey, Maximo, wanna try some?"
"I'd rather drink bleach," Max replied evenly.
Shrugging, Bobby popped off the lid—"Suit yourself, man"—placed the nozzle between his lips, and pushed down until his cheeks bulged.
If Max hadn't been nauseated before, and he'd been firmly in the realm of 'taste it at the back of your throat' territory, he was now in full-on stomach-churning mode. Blueberry flavored spray cheese was a bad enough transgression against humanity on its own but to watch as Bobby began to openly laugh with his mouth full pushed Max into a whole new level of bothered, especially when blue streaks of cheese dribbled over his friends bottom lip.
"Bobby. You're so gross, man," Max sighed, inching his head around the corner for another look. "Hope you don't choke on that nasty cheese 'cause I sure don't know the Heimlich maneu—"
His breath staggered.
There she was.
And there went his heart, instantly leaping into his throat with such vigor that he started to sputter like a dying car. To anyone else, the way Max started to frantically point and hyperventilate might have been confusing, or at least worthy of a sedative, but not to Bobby. He knew why his friend was spazzing out and hurriedly swallowed his mouthful of cheese.
"Max—MAX, hey—look at me, dude!" Bobby called and he had to grab Max by the shoulders to straighten him out. "You don't gotta tell me who's around that corner, I already know. Just like you know you got this, buddy! C'mon, we practiced for this, remember? This time is different, you're not covered in cheese, okay? You're clean, dressed right, this ain't nothing, you got this."
Nodding sporadically to those encouraging words, Max tried to respond but his throat was dry and his tongue didn't want to follow orders.
"Guh frrrrnmgh—gibba gabba," he choked out nonsensically, and Bobby gave him a forceful shake.
"Focus up, bruh, it's show time." Nodding and squeezing Max by the shoulders, Bobby threw up the peace sign, turned, and started down the hall at a quick pace. "I'll catch up with you later, do your thing," he called, pulling out his can of blueberry Cheddar Whizzy for a few mouth-filling tugs.
It probably would have helped Max a little more mentally if P.J. could have been there with him, but his portlier friend had called out sick after going overboard at an all-you-can-eat buffet the day prior. Although, true to Bobby's words, this time was already different—and miles better—than last time, the dreaded incident that left Max, Bobby, and P.J. covered in jalapeño-flavored cheese from an exploded can.
You're fine Max, he thought reassuringly, rubbing himself down and checking his shirt for wrinkles. You're cheese-free, the hallway's empty, wore your good clothes—
"Totally fine," he remarked to himself.
"What's totally fine, Max?"
Quick and fast, the scream rose in Max's throat but he grunted it back down, thudding himself on the chest. That familiar candied perfume of hers tickled his nostrils like it always did while her angelic voice made his heart sing and stomach quiver accordingly; it all painted her perfect image on the canvass of his mind.
He tried to reply with a very suave, very bold "You are" like he had practiced over and over in the mirror that morning, complete with a smooth turn around and a grin, but his tongue chose that moment to swell to twice its size and not only did he wind up squeaking out what could have been, he stumbled over his feet mid-turn and nearly threw himself to the ground.
Take me now, God, just… go ahead, I'm done with this life, thanks.
The giggle that met Max's ears was the single most sweetest sound he had ever heard and despite thoroughly wishing for the ground to just swallow him whole, he gathered the courage to glance up.
The girl standing there was Roxanne, one of the most popular girls at school and the very drive that kept Max coming back day after day. Never mind the benefits of a higher education, a promise of a better life, no—this girl right here, this angel in the flesh with a smile softer than silk was the sole reason Max was in the running to receive the Perfect Attendance trophy at the end of the year. Cliché tags such as 'smart' and 'beautiful' just didn't do Roxanne's character justice in the slightest; there was just something about her that radiated from her smile, her walk, her eyes, helplessly dragging Max into her orbit.
And he didn't mind one bit.
In fact, he welcomed it. He welcomed whatever stupid act he had to go through if it got her to laugh, much like now. That sound, her teasing giggle, it was aimed at him, and he delighted in it.
Yet, as Max continued to marvel just being in her presence, there was something else that quickly took hold of his attention. Now, Roxanne had worn those signature jean shorts of hers before, many times actually, to the point where Max figured they were a staple favorite of hers, but this… these must have been a new pair because they were significantly tighter than he remembered. Far tighter. To the point where he was actively taking notice of her figure for the first time since falling head over heels….
C'mon, Max, remember: don't be a goof, keep it aloof.
That was his mantra, his way of internally separating his father's goofy antics away from his own, and while saying that in his mind strengthened him mentally, physically he could feel his face growing several brilliant shades of red. Because Roxanne had a body: from the way her shorts pinched at the waist, they opened out into a seductive pair of hips that had Max tracing that enticing curve with his eyes. How had he never noticed that before? Had he truly been that blind? And her legs, by the Goof's above, they were so smooth, glistening even, all the way down to her feet that were covered by those trademark white ballet shoes.
Is it weird that… that I kinda wanna lick her ankles?
"So," Roxanne started conversationally, and the sheer timber of her voice caused Max to straighten up like a robot, "I, uh, see you're not covered in cheese this time. That's good." She gave an impressed little nod, grinning somewhat, and Max inwardly sank in on himself. Of course she'd remember that. "What flavor was that anyway? Red cheese… I'm guessing something spicy?"
"Er, it was, um…." That wish to fade into oblivion came back full force and Max tugged on the collar of his shirt. "Jalapeño," he responded weakly, waiting for the ridicule to follow, some derisive crack regarding how he'd almost been blinded that day, or how he hopped around screaming about cheese in his ass.
To his utmost surprise, Roxanne smiled, and it was filled with so much warmth that he almost gave her one in return. Almost. "Mmmm, jalapeño… now that sounds like it would go well with some nachos, doesn't it?" she asked in earnest.
To be honest, not really, but Max double-dog dared himself to speak it aloud; he was far too relieved that she hadn't made fun of him to ruin the moment. "Y-yeah, it—that does sound pretty delicious," he smirked, rubbing behind his neck. "You, uh, you like nachos?"
"Love 'em," Roxanne gushed with a hand to her chest. "I especially love the really big nachos, you know, the triangular ones? That's when I get to activate my special double-dipping powers," she added almost proudly, and she placed a hand on her hip rather indignantly when Max cocked a brow. "Oh, don't give me that look, buster, that's what you do when you have more than one cheese, isn't it?"
The way Roxanne tilted her hips with that haughty flair struck Max below the belt in the best way. Fortunately, before his intensified staring and prolonged silence could drag past the point of acceptance, his mouth came to the rescue. "Ooooh, oh right, that's… yeah, okay, I get you now. See, what I thought you meant was you dipped, took a bite, then dipped again."
The very insinuation of such a thing brought disgust to Roxane's face and her nose crinkled accordingly. "Ewww, no, that's just disrespectful," she said with a soft giggle. "That's caveman-tier."
"More like Bobby-tier," Max added, chuckling.
"Yeah, your friend's a bit… cheese addicted, I've noticed," she said genially.
"Sometimes, when it's quiet and the weather is just right, I like to think what sort of cheese experiment went horribly wrong and created Bobby in the aftermath," Max said rather thoughtfully, and when Roxanne started to laugh, there was no accounting for the sheer amount of confidence that swelled behind his chest.
That was at least twice now that he had made her honestly, genuinely laugh. Add to it, he was speaking in full sentences, he hadn't tripped over himself, there was no cheese in his hair—everything was great.
And then Max found himself laughing with her.
No….
Unable to stop even if he wanted to, he continued to laugh.
No, no, no, this is how it starts! You got too comfortable—abort laughter, abort laughter now!
Until he felt it burst from his throat before he could stop it.
"Ah-HYUCK!"
Not even clapping both hands to his mouth could keep that stupid laugh from getting out, and for a few seconds, as it echoed up and down the bare hallways, Max was frozen, eyes wide, heart thudding painfully against his ribcage. Nothing jumped to mind to save himself, all brain activity had ceased—
"I… w-wait, I… th-that wasn't—" he tried to say, fumbling over even the most basic of words. "It's… it's…."
First, it was the hereditary laugh, then came the hereditary stuttering when nervous, both of them perfectly synched up to make sure this would go down as the worst day of Max's life. So when Roxanne began to smile, lifting a hand to her mouth in an attempt at hiding it, all the confidence he had built up in the moment shattered like a rock breaking through glass and he took off in the opposite direction. He thought he heard her call after him but between his pounding heart and the sound of his sneakers stomping over the tiled floors, he knew that was impossible. After how he had just embarrassed himself, why would she be calling him? He saw how she was about to laugh, but in typical Roxanne fashion, she tried not to show it to spare his feelings.
I'm such a goof….
It was a moot point trying to concentrate through his first two classes. They whizzed by in a blur of garbled voices and the incessant scrape of chalk against the blackboard. Max didn't catch a lick of the lessons being taught, what he needed to study for, or what homework the teachers had bombarded him with. All of it was background noise next to the crushing weight of his second failed attempt with Roxanne.
And it had started out so well, too, he thought with an inward groan as he tried to open his locker for the third blessed time, but like the first two attempts, he was so distracted that he fumbled the combination.
"Hey, there he is! The Goofinator!" That was Bobby calling, waving as he squeezed through the swaths of other students to reach his friend. "Lunch time, bro! But first… how'd it go with the crimson lily? Less cheesy, more breezy?"
The utter look of disdain that contorted Max's face was enough of an answer without him having to part his lips and Bobby nodded solemnly, lifting his trusty can of cheddar whiz. "Cheese, man? It'll heal what ails you, promise."
In a flash of blinding anger, Max snatched the can and had every intention of chucking it as far down the hall as he possibly could. But he didn't. He froze in an awkward position with his arm raised, bypassing the confused look that Bobby was giving him, and seemed to struggle with himself for a few tense seconds, grunting and twitching, until he subsided into a dragging sigh.
"Whatever…." Max jammed the nozzle between his lips and pushed until his cheeks bulged with cheese.
"There it is!" Bobby cheered, punching the air with a fist. "There we go, man, you got it!"
Surprisingly, as Max forced himself to swallow, blueberry-flavored cheese was even more disgusting than he previously thought it would be. The mass of cheese byproduct dropped into his stomach with all the tenderness of a brick and he angrily filled his mouth again, determined to replace his feelings of inadequacy with the nausea this cheese was bringing.
"Mhm, exactly," Bobby nodded, as if knowing exactly what Max was going through. He threw a comforting arm around his silently fuming friend and steered him toward the cafeteria. "Inhale the cheese, dude, imbibe the cheese… the cheese is your friend, your guide… let it lead you to self-discovery."
Or right to the bathroom, Max thought irritably as he flushed the toilet an hour later. His stomach gave another ominous rumble and he gripped it with a wince. This wasn't the normal case of upset stomach that came with whatever reheated hash they served for lunch, no… this was because of Bobby and that corroded cheese in a can from earlier, finally working its way through his system and nearly causing him to blow out his pants.
As if the day wasn't already bad enough to warrant stepping full-on into traffic, the thought of accidentally shitting himself in front of the entire student body was biblically terrible.
"Point blank, I'd have to move away, start up a new identity," Max chuckled wryly, washing his hands. "Give up on everything, on my friends… P.J. and… and Bobby…." He absentmindedly pushed open the stall door, putting his legs on auto-pilot while he gave serious thought to the ramifications of moving away and starting a new life, weighing the pros and cons. "Not like I can move away from my laugh, though, right? Pretty sure that's hardcoded into my DNA. And then"—he swallowed at the lump forming in his throat—"w-what about Roxanne?"
"What about me, Max?"
BAM!
The sound of Max's forehead cracking off his locker was loud and unsettling, but the sudden sound of Roxanne's voice really left him with no other option other than to pitch forward in surprise.
"Owwww… ow, ow, ow, son of a—" Max clamped his mouth shut with a strangled grunt, vigorously rubbing the angry patch of red skin over his temple that he could already feel beginning to bruise. He could only blame himself, really, since he didn't even know he had made it to the lockers and had probably been standing there looking like a right fool when Roxanne showed up.
Several students traversing the halls began to snicker behind raised hands and point with mile-long fingers, and as they did that, as Max stood there with his shoulders hunched and cheeks burning a spectacular scarlet, it seemed that just when he thought he had hit rock bottom with no possible way for things to get worse, somehow a shovel clattered to the ground in front of him.
Through the whispers came a sharp gasp and before Max could even begin to process where it came from, someone had placed their cool, little palm over that purpling patch of skin, applying a soothing pressure. He stared under the hand at his temple and saw Roxanne staring right back at him. She was clutching a couple books to her chest with her free arm and aiming a gentle smirk in his direction.
"Is this some sort of pre-test ritual that you've been keeping from me?" she wondered teasingly, moving her thumb in comforting circles. "Does it work on any locker or does it have to be mine? Can I use yours?"
It was as if the sneering dissenters around them were nothing but background noise to Roxanne while she caressed just under Max's hairline. There was concern there, glinting just beyond those eyes aimed only at him, but she hid it well behind an easy smile. And it was probably that same smile that caused a wave of ease to flow throughout the other students because many fingers lowered, the snide whispering died away, and the crowd began to move back into its previous rhythm.
Moments like these always left Max in awe. It was common knowledge around the school that despite her extremely down-to-earth demeanor and lack of encircling drama, Roxanne was one of, if not the most, popular girl to grace these halls. Which was a subject of immense curiosity as she regularly avoided the other popular kids in favor of hanging with those deemed by and large as 'regular'.
And there she was, tending to his goofy ass. Given her notoriety, he suddenly felt unworthy of her touch and shrank out from under it, trying his best to stand up and reclaim some of his lost pride.
"Er, no, I… I was just, you know, just… gone, kinda—I was miles away," he admitted with a sigh, making a flyaway motion with his hand.
"Oh? Why? Is something bothering you?" she wondered, looking at him expectantly, almost as if she was really interested in what he had to say.
And Max knew she was, because she was that type of person. She sincerely wanted to know if he was okay. "No, no, it's nothing big or… just thoughts and…." Meeting her inquiring gaze was incredibly hard on several levels and Max grimaced, finally managing to put in the correct combination to his locker. He snatched it open to hide his face. "Nothing, it's nothing, I'm fine," he answered, pulling a couple books from within. Even if he had no intention whatsoever of paying attention, he had to at least make it look like he cared.
"Nuh-uh, that's not fair, Max, it drives me crazy when people do that," Roxanne pouted, and no matter how annoyed or flustered Max happened to be, the way she puffed out her cheeks and scrunched up her face was almost enough to send him into cardiac arrest. "Out with it, buster."
Sweet baby goofenstein, she's… so… freaking… cute!
He certainly held no illusions that Roxanne considered him anything more than the goofy boy she met in the hallways from time to time, so it was more than a little surprising when every time they crossed paths, she seemed to know just a little bit more about him despite their conversations never really breaching anything personal.
"What were you going to say—what thoughts about me?" Roxanne pressed, and to his surprise, she took a rather intimidating step forward, getting so close that she had to incline her head, those adorably searching eyes meeting his head-on. "Say it, Max, what?"
Does my breath still smell like blueberry cheese?
He hoped it didn't as he closed his locker and turned to face the girl that was well within his personal space. He could just about count her lashes, could definitely catch hints of whatever strawberry-based perfume she wore. "I… was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the movies after school today. With me, I mean. Together."
Under normal circumstances, Max would have never had the courage to ask that question at pointblank range, at least not without a gun pressed to his temple. But today had been a total mess from start to finish and he didn't see it getting any better so why not? What was there left to be afraid of? That she would laugh at him? She had already done that, twice. That she would say no? That was literally an assured outcome so the fear of it was lost on him in the moment.
The look of surprise that overtook Roxanne's face coupled by the way she lifted a hand to her mouth was evidence that she clearly hadn't been expecting him to say that—or maybe it was his sudden boldness that had her stunned? Either way, her expression was priceless, the way her eyebrows lifted, the way those soft lips of hers slowly formed a coquettish grin—
Wait.
Huh?
"So, that's it, hm? That's why you've been acting weird all day?" she wondered, shifting her stance to give Max a playful bump with her hips. The softness there, that he felt even through her jean shorts, almost buckled Max's legs and he had to fight to repress a groan that rose in his throat. She tucked a stray lock of crimson hair behind her ear and fixed him with a smile so radiant that Max temporarily forgot how to breathe. "You want to take me to the movies?"
This was nothing like how Max envisioned it going, not at all. After his question, he had expected laughter, the harsh, ridiculing kind, followed by a swift decline, and then for news of his hilariously failed attempt to spread like wildfire throughout the school. He had seen it happening so clearly—but this… the way she was regarding him with that altogether pleased expression….
He refused to believe what his heart was trying to tell him, that he actually had a chance, that if he thought about it, Roxanne never showed anyone else the kind of attention she was currently gracing him with. A few kind words here, a piece of advice there, maybe a passing laugh or chuckle, that's all anyone usually got from the long-haired seductress, but not Max. With him there were long conversations between classes, rounds of genuine laughter, an interest in the things he liked, and what he was just starting to realize was a tendency for Roxanne to know exactly where to find him.
His heart was desperately throwing up all those moments and more, trying to piece together a picture that he should have seen a long time ago while his brain was doing its best to shoot down each of those realizations with a pessimistic logic, to remind him that life didn't work out that way.
Not for guys like him.
"Yeah," he found himself uttering, and it took all the courage he possessed and then some to reach out and take one of her hands in his.
A hue of red colored Roxanne's cheeks. Her eyes shot down to her hand, enclosed almost entirely within his, then slowly up into his face. "Max…?"
Now or never, Maximilian Goof.
"The thing is, Roxanne, I've… I've always—" Moreso than the nausea that he caught from that abominable blueberry cheese, Max had never experienced his stomach knot with such dread. There was nothing but a five-foot-something girl before him but in his mind, talking to her, trying to get these words out, it was like trying to defeat a fire-breathing dragon with a stick. A stick that was snapped in half.
The look in Roxanne's eyes showed she was carefully taking in his every word, almost yearningly. "Y-yeah…?"
Her hand was still in his, Max realized dimly. She hadn't pulled back or recoiled and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. In fact, she seemed to be squeezing, a gentle reassuring pressure, and if Max didn't know any better he would swear that right now, in this moment… Roxanne was just as nervous and anxious as he was.
I'm such a damn goof….
Words wouldn't work right now, and Max knew it. Mostly because how he felt about Roxanne transcended mere syllables… it was more a sensation, a spark behind his chest that went off like fireworks at the mere sight of her. As a result, he could barely breathe in her grace, the entire world fell away into the background….
Okay, heart….
For the first time, Max could see it in her eyes, nestled deep in those pupils fixed on him. He saw the care there, the attention and effort that she reserved specifically for him.
I'm gonna listen to you.
Max lifted the knuckle of his forefinger to just under Roxanne's chin. She followed his touch wordlessly, immediately, further inclining her head—
I'm gonna listen.
And he kissed her.
And it was the sweetest, softest thing he had ever experienced in his life, so much so that an addiction was formed on the spot, right then and there in the span of a heartbeat. The subtle twang of her lips felt like the missing puzzle piece to his life and now that he had sampled it, he knew that he would want more—no, that he would need more.
On the edge of his hearing, Max picked up a dozen or so gasps erupting around them from the other students observing their intimate scene in the middle of the hall. And, oddly enough, he found he didn't care—and why would he? He was kissing the girl of his dreams; the bliss pulsing in his veins and thundering through his heart couldn't be staunched by the views of those who never mattered.
The stares never bothered me anyway, he thought firmly, and when it seemed like they had passed into day two of their kiss, Max reluctantly pulled back. He could feel his face burning, knew he was blushing, but he was delighted to see that it looked as though someone had burst a whole tomato over Roxanne's face so red were her cheeks.
She lifted a couple fingers to her lips, touching them gingerly, never once breaking eye contact. "Yes," she said breathlessly.
"Hm?" Max blinked, confused. "Yes wh—oh… oh, you mean about the movies? You'll go with me?" His face lit up with a goofy smile. "O-okay, awesome, um… so what did you wanna s—"
He abruptly fell silent when Roxanne shook her head, those supple lips of hers forming the cutest of smiles. "Not yes to that," she started coyly, "I meant 'yes' to the other question you haven't asked yet…."
Brain-numb, Max still wasn't following. "Huh? What other question?"
Giggling, Roxanne stretched up onto her toes. "Yes, you goof, I'll be your girlfriend."
If someone had told Max that a day where he caught explosive diarrhea from blueberry flavored cheese whizz would also wind up being the single greatest day of his life, he would have straight up 'hyuk'd all in their face.
As it stood, Max could only stare even after Roxanne kissed him. It was little more than a glancing caress of her lips, the barest of kisses, but the emotion she passed on came across crystal clear and Max beamed.
"Nice," he muttered, borderline drooled out, and Roxanne gave a patient roll of her eyes. "So, did you… did you wanna leave or—you know, ditch and—"
"Ditch?" The word passed Roxanne's lips in a foreign and hostile tone, like she couldn't believe such a thing existed, and damn if Max didn't chuckle when she took her hand back and put it on her hip. "Nuh-uh, we"—and she indicated to herself then Max—"don't ditch classes, dear," she stressed. "We don't ditch, we don't skip or hop—"
"Do we trot?" he wondered genially, and when she fixed him with that narrow-eyed glare for his cheek, Max quickly learned that Roxanne was the type of girl whose sexiness only increased when she got annoyed or angry. Her posture, the angle of her hips, the way her foot tapped along impatiently—the urge to take her in his arms was almost unbearable. "I'm joking, Rox'," he told her hastily. "I'm gonna go to all of my classes, every single one, and I'm gonna get perfect scores."
That was clearly a lie, and Roxanne very obviously knew that, but it worked in softening the sharp lines of scorn etched onto her face. "Hmph, we'll see, won't we?" she shot back, though shades kinder, and she playfully traced a heart over his chest. "Get your books and don't be late, okay?"
"I won't."
"Meet me at my house after school?"
"I'll meet you after your last class and walk you to your house," Max offered instead.
"Even better," she smiled with a small wave. "See you later, Max."
The fact that Roxanne hadn't said 'bye' didn't go by unnoticed. Saying bye after this, after all of this, would have left a sour note on what Max hoped was a blossoming relationship. He didn't ever want there to be any goodbye's if he could help it, not when he had waited so long.
"See ya later, Rox'."
And that was that. Mission accomplished, all he had to do was turn around and walk away. Simple. Yet, as he proceeded to do just that, Max couldn't help but notice that Roxanne was taking her sweet time as well, that they were both slowly turning while making sure to keep eye contact.
So it's like that, huh?
Throwing caution to the wind, Max spun back around and when Roxanne mirrored him, he couldn't help but offer up a challenging grin, one that she returned with verve.
Yeah, it's like that.
He started walking backwards and, almost as if coming to the same idea, Roxanne matched him step for step. Yeah, it was utterly childish and silly, but it also incredibly fun even if was somewhat of an inconvenience to the stunned onlookers who were forced to part like the red sea so the newly joined couple could continue their… whatever it was they were doing.
"See ya later, Rox'," Max called again, blindly feeling behind him.
"No, I'll see you later, Max!" Roxanne countered, her steps exhibiting far more grace and poise as she put those ballerina shoes to good use, elegantly avoiding any behind her.
"Uh-uh, I'll be seeing you later!" retorted Max, stumbling.
"Yeah, after I see you later!"
That was perhaps the most nonsensical thing Max had ever heard Roxanne say. It also happened to be the cutest, this competitive side of her. She really didn't want to lose whatever it was they were doing and it quickly turned into a shouting match the further away every step backwards took them.
Max cupped a hand around his mouth. "SEE YA LATER!" he yelled joyously, nearly trodding over someone who failed to get out of his way in time.
Roxanne was outright laughing as she approached her end of the hallway. "SEE YOU SOONER THAN LATER!"
Oh, she's good, Max thought, impressed, but he was beyond determined, and he knew exactly what he needed to say to win.
The truth.
"I LOVE YOU, ROXANNE!"
His declaration boomed down the corridor like a cannon, barreling into every functioning ear in the vicinity, and even from his distance, Max could see the color flooding Roxanne's face. He took immense pleasure in the way she started to bite on her bottom lip—she looked so damn sexy—and then she was twirling a lock of that crimson hair around her pointing finger, a clear sign that she was flustered beyond recovery.
Caught up in cataloguing every little visual shift in Roxanne's posture, including the sultry, half-lidded stare she was leveling him with, it took Max a couple seconds to realize that the entire hallway had erupted in applause. He couldn't even spare the necessary brain cells to parse the reason why—or why several hands were clapping him over the back and ruffling his hair—because the only thing he noticed was that Roxanne hadn't responded, she was still gnawing on her bottom lip.
Which means… so that means I won! Max thought, and a ridiculously wide smile split his face from ear to ear. Oh man, victory is so sweet—
And then he saw her inhale.
—and extremely short-lived, I guess.
"I LOVE YOU MORE, MAX!"
The cheers got louder, someone was giving Max a very hearty noogie—"The goof kid did it!"—and several class doors were being kicked open by several extremely peeved teachers. As threats of detention and suspension were dropped with all the intensity of mortar strikes, Max felt himself being pulled further down the hall, swept up in a mob of rushing students, but even through the haze of bodies, Roxanne stood out like a beacon. Her eyes were just as steadily trained on him even as she was dragged to safety.
"I win," she mouthed with a victorious smirk before disappearing around the corner.
And oddly enough, as he was snatched along by Bobby, who was laughing and cheering his throat raw, it was a battle that Max didn't mind losing in the slightest.
A/N: From the beginning, I was gonna GRRM this and tell it from Roxanne's POV because it would have been cute as hell and filled in how she felt and what she did, but the pages got away from me and this ending seemed good enough. (unless you wanna see it from Roxanne's side then lemme know) #yearoftheoneshot