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Chapter Eleven
Max
"You're out." Dylan said firmly, arms crossed across his chest and his face grave. Dean and Owen exchanged disbelieving looks; clearly neither of them had known that this was on todays agenda.
"What?" I snapped. "I've been hanging out with you as much as you can, and we've done over twenty jobs in the past week-"
"It's not good enough." He snapped. "Money's dipping. We need someone with more devotion to the team."
"I can't believe you're doing this." I said, stepping back a few paces and shaking my head. "You know that I need the money."
"Look," He sighed, reaching out a hand to take my own. I yanked it away, and he ran a hand through his hair. "It's nothing personal; it was my dad's decision. We can still-"
"Go out? Be friends?" I asked incredulously, backing further up. "Is that what you were going to say? Forget it. We're done, through. I can't believe I actually thought you were a half-way decent guy." I laughed a little, shaking my head before turning to Dean and Owen. "I'll see you two later."
I span, and was nearly completely out of the door when another voice spoke.
"Wait up, Max. We're coming, too." Dean called after me, as him and Owen moved suddenly from their spot. Dylan whirled on them, eyes furious.
"If you walk out of here now, you're never welcome back."
Owen hesitated for a split second, before catching up with Dean as the two of them made their way forwards.
"Don't be stupid," I snapped at them. "You need this money, both of you. What are you gonna do? Sing on a street corner for rent money? You're both tone deaf."
Dean laughed a little at that. "We got a job. Both of us, at a little café not far from the shelter; we were going to tell you next week before we started, but…"
"Oh." I said, a little taken aback. "Alright then. In that case, let's get gone."
Dean grinned at me, placing a hand on my shoulder and rubbing it through the material of my shirt as the three of us headed out.
Dylan shouted something from behind me, but I was too angry to hear what he had to say.
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"You're early." Ari accused as he let me back into the flat. I offered him a smile that was more like a grimace and nodded, ruffling his hair.
"Dad and Bridget not back yet?" I asked, glancing around the flat. This was the third day in the row that they'd been gone, and I was starting to get a little, well… worried, I suppose. Partly for them, but mostly for Ari and I. If things were hard enough with two drunk parents, I didn't know what it would be like to have no parents.
"Okay, give me a couple of minutes and then I'll sort something out for dinner tonight, alright?" I asked, and then nodded to the TV. "Since the 'rents aren't around, why not watch some cartoons?"
Ari grinned and nodded enthusiastically, but I noticed that he avoided Bridget's chair, whether he intended too or not. Sighing, I turned and headed into the parents' bedroom. Someone had obviously made some haphazard attempt at making the bed, and a single white sheet lay on the middle of the bed.
The closet doors were wide open, one of the doors hanging off in a poorly attatched manner that suggested it had been thrown open in a hurry and the hinge had snapped, and the dresser doors had been pulled out. All of them were empty. Eyes wide, I picked up the note and quickly recognised the hand-writing.
Bridget's penmanship had once been a beautiful cursive, but was now a barely intelligible scribble reading simply, "Decided LA looked cool. Have a good life."
My breath caught in my chest, and the familiar sting of tears burned behind my eyes.
I should have been glad that they were no longer around, but I wasn't.
"They're not coming back, are they?" Ari asked from the doorway, his wide, brown eyes were full of tears and my heart broke a little as I took in the sight of him and forced myself to shake my head. He hesitated, and then he was clinging to me and we were both crying.
Everything in our lives had just got that much harder.
Finally pulling myself together I swallowed hard and pulled back from Ari a little, wiping the tears from his face despite the fact that they were still falling. "It's okay, Ari. We'll make it work – we're going to stick together, and we'll get through it, alright?"
"You promise?" He asked, eyes sparkling in the dim light.
"Yeah. I promise." I whispered, pulling him back to my chest and rocking him.
I just hoped that it was a promise that I could keep.
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"You alright, Max?" Dean asked, his brow furrowed in concern as the two of us sat opposite each other at our usual lunch table. Owen had managed to score himself a lunch-time detention (as it was the only type of detention he ever attended), so it was just the two of us on the eight-seater table.
"Fine," I said poking my food around before pushing it towards him. "Just... yesterday wasn't a great day. With Dylan and everything."
He watched as I shrugged, not touching the food, before leaning forwards and speaking again. "This isn't just about Dylan. You've been cying; was that why you weren't in maths?"
"Partly," I shrugged, and then plastered on a fake grin and attempted a joke, "A partly because I couldn't do well in maths to save my life. Clearly, I'm never going to be a good accountant."
Dean didn't laugh.
"What's going on, Max? Seriously."
"It's nothing." I watched as my hands began to fiddle nervously with the edge of the twenty dollar table.
Dean wasn't put off. "Clearly its something."
"I just, I could really do with the money from Dylan right now..."
Dean frowned again, taking my fiddling hands into his own to still them, his eyes still on my face. "Why? Why now? What's changed?"
I sighed; finally giving in. "Dad and Bridget skipped out on us; decided that "LA looked cool", and left a note telling us to "have a good life". Without the money from Dad's job, and the money from Dylan, I don't think that I can afford to keep the flat. I really don't know what I'm going to do..."
"Easy." Dean said, looking oddly relieved. "Move in with me."
"What?"
"The flat has the bedroom, and the pull out bed under the sofa. Someone would have to share somewhere along the way until we can save up a bit more money, but hey."
I almost told him to stop being ridiculous, before realising that I didn't have much of a choice, and settled for saying, "I'll pay half of the rent, and the bills..."
Dean shrugged.
"Doesn't bother me either way, as long as you've got somewhere to stay. After all, that's what friends are for, right?"
A/N - Sorry this one took so long; I've just started college (English college, I'm not that old you Americans!) and it's crazy!
I'm still up for votes on FAX vs DEAN/MAX; so there you go. The Guardian Experiment should have a new chapter following the posting of this one, and I'm happy to report that I'm currently writing the last chapter of it, and I'm going to concentrate to getting this story back on track before I start on the Sequel, Definition of Normal.
Hope you hadn't given up hope and I haven't lost you all!
