A/N: You guys are seriously awesome. I got 13 reviews on this first chapter which is more than I think I've ever gotten on a first chapter in the first week it's been up. So thank you guys tons.
This chapter is Max's POV in case you forgot that I told you it would switch every other chapter.
I woke up to the beeping of my alarm clock. The noise sent a cold feeling of anxiety through my veins. I looked to the other side of my bed, where I remember curling into him last night, to find it empty. He was gone, like always. I couldn't even be angry though, I always leave him too. Staying would cross a line that would shatter everything. Staying would upset the balance. Staying would be caring and we can't afford to care because caring would mean loving and loving that boy is something I can never do again.
I sat up and slammed my alarm clock off. It was quiet and for a minute I just shut my eyes and breathed in his sent that still lingered on my blankets and pillow. I stood up and the cold fall air that had crept in through my open window assaulted my bare body. I rushed to grab clean clothes and my towel. I wrapped myself in the towel and made a beeline for the bathroom across the hall. I slammed the door shut and turned on the water.
My sister had her stuff all over the counter making me feel closed in so I opened the window to let the air in. Finally, I jumped into the shower and let the water wash away whatever feelings I had developed last night. There was no room for feelings like that. He's the past and the only time he can come into the future is at night. For a second I let myself lean against the cold tile and just breathe, but my one moment of peace ended with a bang on the bathroom door.
"Max!" Ella screamed at me. "I need to curl my hair!"
"Your hair is already curly!" I called back.
"Open the door!" Ella yelled. "Mom said you have to!"
I sighed and shut my water off. I slowly got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself. Then, finally, when I was ready, I opened the door for my frazzled sister. She barreled in and glared at me. I just watched her impassively until she plugged in her curling iron.
"Can't you do that somewhere else?" I asked her. "So I can, I don't know, get dressed."
"I have a bus to catch, you don't," Ella mumbled as she wrapped a strand of her hair around the curling iron. I sighed and moved forward to brush my teeth. "And don't even think for a second that I didn't hear you sneak Dylan in last night. I could tell mom and you would be so busted."
It wasn't mom I was worried about, it was Dylan finding out that I had snuck someone in last night and it wasn't him.
"It was Nudge," I lied quickly.
"Sure it was," Ella mumbled as she twirled more of her hair.
"Just don't tell Dylan or he'll get worried about getting in trouble," I lied. Dylan doesn't care about getting in trouble. He would care if he found out I was sneaking boys into my room at night, especially if he knew which boy specifically.
I didn't think of it as cheating though. It wasn't really cheating. I didn't do it because I wanted to hurt Dylan or because I wanted to feel something physically. I did it because it made me feel better. It made the hurt go away for long enough that I could breathe again. It made the past not as painful. Plus, he had a girlfriend too and if he didn't think it was cheating then I didn't either.
"Ella, let's go!" Mom yelled from the bottom of the stairs.
"I'm coming!" Ella called back.
"I'm not driving you!" Mom replied. "If you miss the bus you're walking!"
Ella groaned and rolled her eyes before pulling the curling iron from her hair and flipping it off. She fluffed her hair a little and then looked over at me.
"I'll see you at school," she said. "I won't tell mom or Dylan, but you should probably think about being quieter."
I watched her leave and then spit into the sink. That means she knows it wasn't Dylan that I was sneaking in. If she thought it was Dylan she would have told my parents right away just so I would get in trouble. She knew I was sneaking someone else in, hopefully she didn't know who.
I tugged on my underwear and then my old jeans. I contemplated life for a minute and then pulled on my bra and a t-shirt. Overall I looked like I normally did. After running a brush through my blond hair, I was ready to go.
I slipped out of the bathroom while kicking my pajamas and my towel back into my room. My dad came out of his room and looked at me and then down at my mass of cloth. He smiled and picked everything up before shoving it into my hands.
"Try this," he said. "It's a little easier." He kissed my head and walked past me.
"What's life without challenges?" I called after him with a smile.
I heard the distant sound of his chuckle as I headed into my room.
I ripped my phone from its charger and grabbed some socks before I left my room and headed down stairs. My parents were moving about the kitchen getting coffee and packing up their stuff for the day. I looked down at the toaster with the one end piece of bread left next to it and pulled out my phone to text Dylan.
Dunkin? I sent.
I pulled on my socks and slipped on some shoes just in time to get Dylan's text telling me he was in the driveway.
"Love you," I told my parents as I grabbed my backpack and slipped out the door.
I hopped into Dylan's old SUV and pulled on my seatbelt. He looked over at me and smiled.
"Did you get my text?" I asked him as I shoved my backpack into the back seat.
"No, sorry, I was driving," he said as he pulled out of my driveway. "What did you need?"
"I didn't eat," I told him. "I'm thinking a quick Dunkin run is in order."
Dylan pointed to the time. "It's going to be tight."
"I'd rather be late than hungry," I said.
Dylan just drove on towards the school and Dunkin Donuts.
"Did you catch the game last night?" Dylan asked as he pulled into the drive-thru.
"No, what was on?" I asked him.
"Hockey," he said simply. "Usual?"
"Yeah," I mumbled. He rolled down his window and ordered for us. "I never watch hockey."
"You should though," Dylan said and then he pulled up to the window.
"The only good part of hockey is the fights," I told him.
"I'm going to get you into hockey," he told me. Dylan grabbed our bags and our two styrofoam cups. He handed me the bags and stuck our cups in the cup holders. We sped off and were back on the road in seconds.
"I don't like hockey," I told Dylan forcefully.
"You just haven't given it a try," he said simply. And to Dylan, it was simple. Everything was simple because he's a good kid who comes from a good family with a history of mess-ups one line long. My family is average, we're nothing special. I have a nice mom and dad, and my sister is pretty cool most of the time. The list of my mistakes isn't long, but there are life changing bullets on that list. Bullets I'm still working to get over.
"I don't want to give it a try," I gritted out. "I don't like hockey."
"We could watch it together," Dylan offered. "It could be our thing."
"Dylan!" I yelled nearly causing to swerve. "I don't like hockey. I don't want to give it a try. I don't want it to be our thing."
Dylan sat quietly for a minute and then he glanced over at me.
"I'm sorry," he finally mumbled meekly. "I didn't know you were PMSing. A warning is usually in order."
"I'm not on my period!" I yelled.
"Well, no, but if I'm not mistaken it's coming next week," Dylan said. "It's pre, as in before. It's ok, babe, we'll get through it together."
I don't know why Dylan's ignorance pissed me off. He was just trying to be nice and understanding which is more than I can say for most guys. Maybe it was that I could still smell Fang. I could still feel him. I could close my eyes and see him. The memory made me hate myself and Dylan's kindness when I was with another boy last night just made my self-hatred grow to all new levels. Well that, or I'm really PMSing. In which case I'm overthinking.
"Let's just talk about something else," I mumbled.
"Are you going to eat?" Dylan asked. "You said you were hungry." I opened my bag and grabbed my doughnut. "How is it?"
"Good," I mumbled.
"Hey, Max, you know I'm sorry," Dylan said as he reached over for my hand. "I know you don't want to watch hockey. I just thought you might like it. We can make something else our thing."
"Why do we need a thing?" I asked him.
"Well," Dylan said with furrowed eyebrows. "I guess we really don't."
We pulled into the parking lot and Dylan parked in the spot he parks in every day. Just like every day, I got out of the car and grabbed my backpack. I took my coffee with me and left my trash in the car to be dealt with later.
Dylan walked over to me and took my hand while holding his coffee in his other hand.
…
"Max?" Dylan asked. I didn't look up from my laptop.
"What?" I asked absent-mindedly as I clicked on the print button for my English essay. It's shit, but it's done.
"Who's is this?"
I looked up and shut my laptop. In Dylan's hands was a black t-shirt. Not just any black t-shirt, a man's black t-shirt. Not just any man's black t-shirt his black t-shirt. Fang's black t-shirt.
"Oh, uh, I was looking for my other shoe this morning and I found that in the back of my closet," I lied. It sounded like a good lie. "It's-it's F-Nick's, so, I was, uh, just going to throw it away. I don't think he wants it back, do you?"
"Considering that I've only seen you guys scream at each other for the past two years, I would say that he can survive without it."
"Yeah," I mumbled. I looked at the t-shirt hoping that Dylan didn't see that it looked way too fresh to be old. Dylan threw it on the ground while looking at me with his head cocked to the side.
That's when Ella busted into my room.
"Hey can we-" Ella stopped and looked at Dylan before forcing a smile at him.
"What?" I asked her.
"I wanted to just talk about what we talked about this morning," Ella said shooting me a meaningful look to which I mouthed a "shut up" very clearly. "But I think I'll leave you guys alone."
"Actually," Dylan said looking between Ella and me. I saw him glance at the t-shirt for just a second and then he smiled at me. "I think I'm going to take off."
"Are you mad?" I asked him. I could sense that he wasn't content.
"Should I be?" Dylan asked innocently.
"I don't think so," I said simply.
"Then, no, I'm not mad," Dylan said. He crossed my floor and kissed me quickly. "I'll see you later, love you."
"Love you too," I whispered. Then he left and I heard his footsteps as they hit each stair gently. I sighed and rubbed my eyes. It's not cheating, I reminded myself.
"So was I right?" Ella asked as she crossed her arms. I plopped down into my chair and looked up at her with what I'm sure was an interesting combination of exasperation, anger, and sadness. She winced and went to go sit on my bed. "Are you cheating on Dylan? I don't think I can lie to him if you are. I'd feel too bad."
"I'm not cheating on Dylan," I told her. I believed it because it was true. Fang would never cheat and if he didn't consider sleeping with me while he had a girlfriend cheating then I shouldn't consider sleeping with him while I'm with Dylan to be cheating. It's not cheating. Fang's not a cheater and neither am I. It's not that I'm not happy with Dylan, it's that Dylan doesn't understand what Fang understands. When Fang holds me on those lonely nights, I don't feel so alone in my pain. That's something Dylan can't do, even if he knew what really happened to Fang and I.
"Then who did you sneak in last night?" Ella asked. "Because I'll find out."
"I snuck Nudge in," I told her. "That's it."
Nudge is my best friend.
"Why would you sneak Nudge in for a couple of hours only to have her leave again early in the morning?"
"Leave it alone, Ella," I said as I stood up and glanced over at the t-shirt unwillingly.
I started to pack up my school stuff and ignored Ella's stare.
"Why don't you just tell me?" Ella finally said. "It'll be worse when I catch you sneaking them in again."
"I'd just be ruined if you caught me sneaking Nudge in," I said with mock-fear. Ella looked ready to slug me. Mostly because she knew I was lying. Normally I wouldn't bother to lie to Ella, but this is something too big to tell truth about.
That's when I caught Ella looking at the shirt in the corner. She stared at it with furrowed eyebrows and I wanted so badly to grab the stupid shirt and throw it in my closet, but that would be a dead giveaway.
"You're-you're not sneaking…Fang in here, right?" Ella asked looking at me worriedly. My blood pressure spiked.
"No," I said quickly. "Fang and I…we haven't even had a civil conversation since we were fifteen." That much is true. Even when we talk now it's nothing but insensitive words that draw up walls. Sometimes, when he holds me, he lets me know that he understands, but he never voices it. I don't voice it either, because I'm scared that if I start to talk about it again I might just hate myself too much to go on, and I might hate him too much to even be able to look at him.
"It happened to you when you were my age?" Ella asked in disbelief. "I always knew, but, God, Max, I couldn't deal with it."
"Well, neither could I," I told her. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly all together."
"Is that why you're sneaking Fang into your room at night?" She asked. "Because you're hurting?"
"I'm not hurting, Ella," I told her. "And I'm not sneaking Fang into my room."
"Then why don't I believe that?" Ella inquired. "Why can't I believe that?"
"I don't know," I said meeting her eyes. "Because it's the truth. I'm not sneaking Nick Crosby into my room." That much was true, I wasn't sneaking Nick into my room, because to me he isn't Nick, he's Fang. I'm not sneaking Nick into my room I'm sneaking Fang, my Fang.
A/N: So that concludes another happy chapter. Please, please, please review and let me know if you still are liking this. Next chapter Max and Fang get in a pretty big fight so review for that. I'm thinking that Thursdays definitely work good for updates so I'll probably be updating every Thursday…hopefully. I'm entering the extremely stressful months of junior year AKA SATs, ACTs, AP exams…shoot me. But I am going to try to be consistent. Just might be a bit of a struggle until after May.
So review!