Authors Note: I do not own Saved By The Bell or any of it's characters. They belong to NBC and the writers of the show. I have simply borrowed them for my story. I only own my OC's. The story and ideas in it also belong to me. In this chapter I have revealed that Max was abused by his dad as a kid and that he was also a drunk and pot head as a teen and he is also a recovering anorexic. I'm not implying in any way that Ed Alonzo was abused as a kid, is/was a drunk/pot head, or that he was anorexic when he was on the show, that wasn't my intent at all, so no disrespect to Ed if he happens to find this story somehow. Chapter title comes from the Jim Croce song of the same name.

'Photographs and memories, Christmas cards you sent to me. All that I have are these to remember you.'-Photographs And Memories-Jim Croce.

Chapter 11: Photographs And Memories

I lay in bed for a few minutes after Max has fallen asleep. I try to sleep, but it's no use, I've got too much on my mind. I throw off the covers and get out of bed. I walk out of the room and head downstairs. I walk into the living room and sit down on the couch.

As I do I see a box labeled pictures sitting on the table in front of the couch. I pick up the box and take off the lid. I pull out a few pictures. In the top one I see a smiling teenage Max and a girl who I believe is Maxine. I can tell just by looking at this picture that Max's smile is fake.

It's like he was hiding all the pain he had faced in his life at that point. I put the picture down and look at the next one. It appears to be a family photo. Max is smiling, Maxine is standing next to him also smiling, Ella is kneeling in front of Max with a smile on her face, next to Ella is a young man who must be Max's brother, he's also smiling, behind Max is a woman who must be Max's mom, and next to his mom is a man who's face has been blacked out. If I had to guess, I'd say that the man with the blacked out face is Max's dad.

I flip through the rest of the photos. I notice that all of the ones that have Max's dad in them have his face blacked out. I come across a picture with Max's dad in it that doesn't have the face blacked out. His parents are smiling and holding a baby each. By looking at this picture, I can see that Max looks very much like his mom.

'How cute, it's Max's baby picture.' I think.

I'm brought back to my senses by the phone ringing. I put the pictures back in the box and reach over to answer the phone. By the time my hand touches the phone it's stopped ringing.

'Must have been a wrong number.' I think.

I put the lid back on the box and put it back on the table. As I do, Max comes running down the stairs. He's dressed in a red t-shirt, blue jeans, and white sneakers. He comes into the living room.

"Melissa, get dressed, we need to get to the hospital." Max says.

"Why, what happened?" I ask puzzled.

"That was Slater who called, Jessie's in the hospital. She overdosed on caffeine pills."

"Is she ok?" I ask.

"I don't know, Slater didn't tell me much."

"Why did he call you?"

"He said he found a note telling him to call me."

"Strange." I say.

"Very." Max says agreeing with me.

I get up off the couch and walk out of the living room. I walk upstairs. As I go to walk into the bedroom Emma walks out of her room.

"Melissa, what's going on?" Emma asks.

"Jessie's in the hospital. She overdosed on caffeine pills." I say.

"Is she ok?"

"I don't really know, Slater didn't tell Max much."

"I'm coming with you guys." Emma says as she disappears into her room.

I head into the bedroom and get myself dressed. I walk out and head downstairs. I see Emma and Max waiting by the front door. I walk over to them and we walk out the door. We walk over to Max's car and get in.

Max starts the car and we drive off. We get to the hospital and Max parks the car. We get out and head into the hospital. When we walk in we see Slater waiting for us.

"How is she?" Max asks.

"Stable and lucky to be alive." Slater says.

"Can we see her?" Emma asks.

"Yes, but she really only wants to see Max and Melissa."

Max and I look at each other puzzled. Why would Jessie only want to see us? I would think she'd want to see her friends. My thoughts are interrupted by Slater talking.

"Come on, I'll take you to her." Slater says.

He walks off and Max and I follow him. He takes us to Jessie's room. Slater knocks on the door.

"Who's there?" Jessie asks.

"Jess, it's Slater. I brought Max and Melissa." Slater says.

"Send them in." Jessie says.

Max opens the door and walks in. I follow him in shutting the door behind me. We walk over to the chairs by Jessie's bed and sit down.

"Jessie, what happened?" Max asks.

"I don't know. After I talked to you, nothing seemed to matter anymore." Jessie says.

"That's no reason to attempt suicide." Max says.

"Max, you're the closest thing to a big brother that I have, I felt like I was letting you down."

"I thought you had a brother." I say.

"I do, but he's in New York with my dad."

"So, Max is the closest thing you have that is anything like family." I say.

"Yes, and you're the closest thing I have to a sister." Jessie says.

"I'm flattered that you think of me like that Jessie." Max says.

"I know you have a family Max, but I'm not trying to replace them."

"I really only have one member of my family that cares about me, and that's Ella."

This gets me thinking about my own sister. I have to call her sometime and find out how she's doing. Actually, I should find out how my parents are doing. I really miss them. I'm brought from my thoughts by Jessie speaking.

"Melissa, are you ok?" Jessie asks.

"Sort of." I say.

"What's wrong?" Jessie asks puzzled.

"All this talk of family got me thinking of those I left behind."

"Your parents?" Max asks.

"Yes, but I was also thinking about my sister." I quietly say.

"You have a sister?" Max asks shocked.

"Yes, she's the same age as Jessie."

"I'm sure it's hard for you to be away from her." Jessie says.

"It is. I keep hoping she won't make the same mistakes I did." I say.

"What do you mean by that?" Jessie asks.

"Getting in a fight with our parents and then running off without resolving it." I say.

"There has to be more then that." Max says.

"Max, I don't want to talk about it."

"It can't be that bad, can it?" Max asks.

"I said, I don't want to talk about it."

"If someone hurt you, you need to tell me." Max says.

"What don't you understand about, 'I don't want to talk about it'?" I angrily ask.

"Melissa, calm down, he was just trying to help." Jessie says.

"I'm sorry, but what Max is asking me about is a bit sensitive." I say.

"I'm sure it is, but if someone did in fact hurt you, you need to tell someone."

I look from Jessie to Max and then look at the floor. I can't tell anyone this, not even Max. But I feel like if I don't tell him I could lose him forever. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly trying to calm myself.

"I made a mistake when I was 18. I slept with a boy I thought I loved and ended up pregnant." I quietly say looking back at Jessie.

"Is that why you really came out here?" Max asks.

"No, I really did come out here to go to Cal U." I say.

"So, what happened to the baby?" Jessie asks.

"I had a miscarriage when I was about three months along."

Max takes my hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"I don't want you to lose our child." Max says.

"Don't worry, the doctor said they're perfectly healthy." I say.

"They?" Max asks puzzled.

"Yes they. I'm having twins."

"Boys or girls?" Jessie asks.

"Both."

"I think I've already got names picked out for them." Max says.

"Oh, and what are they?" I ask.

"I want the girl to be Maxine after my sister, and the boy will be Maxwell after me."

"Your name is really Maxwell?" Jessie asks shocked.

"Yes, it is." Max says.

"Why shorten it to Max?" Jessie asks.

"For the same reason you shorten Jessica to Jessie. It's a nickname. I've had it since I was a kid."

"I think there's more to it than that." Jessie says.

"I was only ever called Maxwell when I was in trouble with my parents, teachers, or if some bully wanted a piece of me." Max says with a sigh.

"Did you get beaten up by bullies a lot?" Jessie asks.

Max gives a nod of his head as an answer.

"How bad was it?" I ask.

"Pretty bad. My junior year of high school some jerk beat me up pretty bad. He split my lip, broke my nose, gave me a black eye, and busted my jaw." Max says.

"He broke your jaw?" Jessie asks shocked.

"Yes." Max says with a sigh.

"How awful." Jessie says.

"Seven years later and it's still not right." Max mumbles.

"What are you talking about?" I ask puzzled.

I can almost see the wheels in Max's head turning as he tries to come up with an answer.

"My jaw never healed right, it's still pretty messed up." Max says.

"I don't buy that." Jessie says.

"You're right. My jaw still isn't messed up, but I am."

"How so?" Jessie asks.

"You already know about my cutting problem, but the thing no one knows is, I'm a recovering anorexic." Max quietly says.

This comes as a shock to me. I thought he might be anorexic, but I didn't believe it.

"I'm shocked Max. I thought only girls were like that." Jessie says.

"Men can struggle with their weight just like women do, why can't they also be anorexic?" I ask.

"I never thought of that."

"It's ok Jessie." Max says.

"How do you cope with that?" Jessie asks.

"It's not easy, it's something I struggle with every day." Max says.

Jessie says nothing and takes Max's hand in hers. I see Max jump and tense when Jessie takes his hand. He looks like he's waiting for her to hit him.

"Max, is something wrong?" Jessie asks.

"No, why?" Max asks.

"You jumped and tensed up when I touched your hand." Jessie says.

"I don't want to talk about it." Max says.

"Did someone hurt you when you were a kid?" Jessie asks.

Max lets out a long sigh and then says, "I was abused by my dad as a kid."

"Max, I'm sorry, I didn't know." Jessie says.

"Not too many people know that." Max says.

"Why did he do it?" Jessie asks.

"He did it because I was the screw up in the family." Max says with disgust.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Jessie says.

"It's fine, you didn't know." Max says.

Jessie says nothing and looks at Max sympathetically.

"I remember the day it started like it was yesterday." Max quietly says.

"How come?" Jessie asks.

"It's burned into my mind. I can't help but remember it whenever someone touches me a certain way."

Jessie is quiet, like she's taking everything in.

"It happened the first day of my senior year of high school. I got out of school and went to work at The Max, which was owned at the time by my mom. When I got home from work my dad's car was sitting in the drive." Max says.

"What happened next?" Jessie asks.

"When I got in the house, my dad was waiting. Apparently, he had quit his job as a taxi driver. He grabbed my by the collar of my t-shirt and dragged me into his study." Max says.

I can hear the fear in his voice while he's telling his story.

"Then what?" Jessie asks.

"He started yelling at me about not letting work get in the way of getting good grades. Then he started hitting me." Max says breaking down in tears.

"You don't have to go on with your story if you don't want to." Jessie says.

"I need to tell my story. It feels good to finally get this off my chest." Max quietly says.

"Go on when ever you're ready." I say.

Max takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly like he's trying to get ready for what he has to say.

"My dad's punches came hard and fast. I didn't have time to defend myself from them. One of his punches connected with my jaw and I dropped to the floor. After I hit the floor he started kicking me." Max says.

I hear the anger and rage in his voice.

"Oh God, how awful." Jessie says.

"He kicked my legs and chest. After he was done kicking my legs and chest, he started kicking my head. He kicked my head so hard that I blacked out." Max says.

"You're lucky he didn't kill you." I say.

"To this day, I still don't know if he did anything else to me after he knocked me unconscious. I have a feeling he may have, well, raped me, but I can't prove it." Max quietly says.

"What would you do if you found out he did do that?" Jessie asks.

"I don't know, but I'm sure I'd find out." Max says.

"Did anyone help you after your dad beat you up?"

"I don't remember. I spent the next couple of days after that happened in a bit of a fog. Much like I don't remember the accident that killed Maxine."

"You should have gotten help." I say.

"It wouldn't have helped, no one would listen. Besides, I found a solution to my problem." Max says.

"Cutting your arms?" I ask.

"There was that and I started drinking quite heavily and I was smoking pot just to forget the pain my dad was causing me."

"I thought you said you weren't drinking or high the night your sister died." Jessie says.

"What?" Max asks puzzled.

"You just said you started drinking and getting high when your dad would beat you up, so I figured that you were still drinking and smoking pot around the time your sister died."

"I was, but I cleaned up my act a couple days before the dance. I didn't want to show up to my prom drunk and stoned out of my mind." Max says.

"Do you still drink or get high?" I ask.

"Sometimes, but it's been a few years since I last got high." Max admits.

I see this funny look in Jessie's eyes. It's like she's thinking Max is some kind of hypocrite or something. I'm pretty sure I overheard Max saying something to her about doing drugs earlier today at The Max.

"If you did drugs, why did you give me a lecture about taking the caffeine pills?" Jessie asks.

"Jess, I know what drugs can do to a person. I didn't want to see you end up like me, or my brother for that matter." Max says.

"What do you mean by that?" Jessie asks puzzled.

"There were days I was so drunk or high, I didn't know what was going on around me. If I wasn't drunk, I was high. Sometimes I was drunk and high at the same time."

"So, you just self-destructed." I say.

"Yes. You see, I didn't have someone like myself giving me advice. I had no one."

"So, that's why you're always giving us advice. You don't want us to end up like you, you want us to have someone." Jessie says.

"Yes. I want you guys to come to me when you have a problem. Think of me as a big brother and friend, and not as an 'adult'." Max says.

"Max, I've thought of you as a brother since we met. I really can't think of you any other way."

"Thanks." Max says with a sigh.

"I just don't understand one thing." I say.

"What's that?" Max asks.

"You claimed you wanted to sell The Max because you were sick, but I'm sure it was more along the lines of, you just wanted out because it was too much for you, right?" I ask.

"My other reason for wanting to sell was, I want to get clean before our kids are born." Max says.

"But you didn't even know I was pregnant then." I say.

"Actually, I wanted to get clean for myself. I'm tired of not being able to remember what I did the day before."

"How long have you spent in a drunken stupor?" Jessie asks.

"The last six years. Or should I say, on and off for the last six years."

"Why do it?" I ask.

"I wanted to forget every bad thing that ever happened to me."

Jessie and I silently take this all in.

"I would drink, go to work, go home, and drink some more. I would drink until I passed out. When I woke up in the morning I would either be on the floor or draped over my bed." Max quietly says.

"Did you ever wake up somewhere other than home?" I ask.

"A few times. I would go to a bar and pick up some woman and go home with her. Then I would wake up the next morning not knowing who she was or how I got there." Max admits.

"Please tell me you never had sex with them." I say.

"I was usually too drunk to do anything except pass out." Max says.

"When was the last time you got drunk?" I ask.

"A little over a month ago. The day I found out I was about to lose everything I worked so hard for just pushed me over the edge. I drank for three days straight and wasn't completely sober when we held the radio fundraiser."

"Why destroy your life like that?" Jessie asks.

Max gives a shrug of his shoulders as an answer.

"We should go Max, I'm sure Jessie wants some rest." I say.

"I'll talk to you guys later." Jessie says.

"Later." Max mumbles and stands up.

I stand up and say goodbye to Jessie. Max and I walk out of the room and head to the lobby. Emma walks over to us and we leave. We head home and go to bed. I wake up the next morning and find a note from Max saying he went into work early and that I had the day off.

I get out of bed and get dressed. I walk downstairs and walk out the door. I walk over to my car and unlock the trunk. I pull out a box and close the trunk. Walking back to the house I remind myself to call home when I finish going through the box in my hands.

I walk into the house and shut the door. I walk into the living room and set the box on the couch. I sit down on the couch and pick up the phone. My fingers dial the number for The Max. The phone rings three times before someone picks up.

"Thank you for calling The Max, this is Ella, how may I help you?" The voice on the other end asks.

"Ella, it's Melissa, can I talk to Max?" I ask.

"Sure, hang on." Ella says.

I hear her set the phone down and yell for Max. Someone picks up the phone.

"This is Max." They say.

"Hey Max, I'm calling to find out how you're doing." I say.

"Melissa, I'm fine. I came to work to get a few things done." Max says.

"Oh, have you seen Emma?" I ask.

"Yes, she's with me."

"And Erica?"

"Erica is living with my parents for a while."

"Ok, then." I say.

"She'll be fine." Max says.

"Well, I have things to do, I'll talk to you later." I say.

"Talk to you later."

"I love you."

"Love you too. Bye."

"Bye." I say and hang up the phone.

I turn my attention to the box sitting next to me. I open the box and pull a few things out. I flip through the items in my hand. There are birthday and Christmas cards from my parents and sister from the time I started living in California until last year. I put the cards back in the box and put on the lid.

I pick up the phone and dial my parents number. The phone rings four times before someone picks up.

"Smith residence, this is Rick speaking." The voice on the other end says.

"Dad, it's Melissa." I say.

"So, how are you?" My dad asks.

"I'm fine. I'm three months pregnant with twins." I say.

"I hope you know who the father is this time." My dad says.

"I do. It's Max, my boss."

"You slept with your boss?" My dad asks shocked.

"Yes, I love him."

"Does he love you?"

"Yes, he does. He asked me to marry him."

"He probably only asked you to marry him because of the baby." My dad says.

"He didn't know about the baby when he asked me to marry him. He just found out about it yesterday." I say.

"Why did you wait to tell him?" My dad asks.

"Because, I wasn't sure if I was really pregnant. I only found out I was three days ago."

My dad lets out a long sigh.

"Anyway, that's not why I called." I say.

"Why did you call?" My dad asks.

"I called to say I was sorry for running off like I did. It was wrong of me."

"I accept your apology." My dad says.

"Can I talk to mom now?" I ask.

"Sure, just a second." My dad says.

He sets down the phone. A few minutes later someone picks up.

"Melissa, this is your mother." They say.

"Hi mom." I say.

"How are you?" My mom asks.

"I'm fine. I'm pregnant."

"Do you know who the father is?"

"Yes, the father is Max, my boss."

"You slept with your boss?" My mom asks shocked.

"Yes, I love him." I say.

"Does he love you?"

"Yes, he asked me to marry him."

"Are you sure he didn't do that just because of the baby?"

"He didn't know about it when he asked, he just found out yesterday."

"Why did you wait so long to tell him?" My mom asks.

I'm about to answer when my mom starts talking again.

"I mean you should have told him sooner. You don't want a repeat of what happened with Chris, do you?"

"There won't be a repeat of what happened with Chris. Unlike Chris' baby, there is nothing wrong with Max's child. Therefore, I won't have a miscarriage." I say.

"That's not what happened and you know it." My mom says.

"Yes it is. Besides, you weren't there, so how would you know?" I ask.

"I know enough. I know what Chris told me."

"Chris wasn't even there, so how would he know?"

"Who's Chris?" Someone asks.

I turn and see Max leaning against the wall. His left arm is in a sling and there's a bandage around his hand.

"Mom, I've got to go. Max just got home." I say.

"Ok, I'll talk to you later." My mom says.

"Yeah, later."

"Bye."

"Bye." I say and hang up the phone.

"Max, what happened?" I ask.

"I'll tell you after you answer my questions." Max says.

"Sit down and I'll tell you." I say.

Max walks over to the other couch and sits down with a painful sigh.

"So, who's Chris?" Max asks.

"Chris was the boy I slept with in high school. I thought I loved him and ended up pregnant."

"What really happened to that baby?"

I let out a long sigh. What happened to that baby is none of Max's business. It wasn't even his child, so why is he so worried? Yes, I did have a miscarriage and that's how I lost it.

"I had a miscarriage. There was something wrong with it that caused me to lose it." I quietly say.

"I see." Max says.

"Although, my mom seems to think otherwise."

"What do you mean?" Max asks puzzled.

"My mom seems to think I had an abortion." I say.

"Did you?"

"No, I'd never do something like that. Unless I had a good reason to."

"What would be your reason for having one?"

"I'd only have one if I was told that having a child would kill me." I say.

"I guess that's a good reason." Max says.

"So, what happened to you?" I ask.

"It's Emma's fault."

"At the mention of her name Emma walks into the living room.

"It is not, at least not all of it." Emma says.

"That doesn't answer my question. What happened?" I ask.

"Well, I caught Emma in my office about to cut herself, and without thinking I reached for the razor blade in her hand. She pulled it away cutting the top of my hand. I got mad and grabbed the blade from her hand and cut my palm in the process." Max says.

"That doesn't explain why your arm is in a sling." I say.

"I went into the kitchen to get a towel to wrap around my hand and I slipped on some grease and broke my arm." Max says.

"Are you going to be ok?" I ask.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I got three stitches in both the top and palm of my hand, it's a bit sore, but I'll live."

"Emma, you're grounded, now go to your room." I say.

"But I didn't do anything wrong!" Emma shouts.

"You didn't do anything wrong? For crying out loud, you hurt Max!" I shout.

"I didn't mean to." Emma says.

"You hurt him by not only 'accidentally' cutting his hand, but by nearly breaking your promise to him." I say.

"Max, I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted, now go to your room." Max says.

Emma turns and walks out of the room. She walks upstairs and I hear her bedroom door slam.

"And as for you Max, you need to grow up." I say.

"What do you mean by that?" Max asks.

"You're not 18 anymore, you can't just expect every kid you try to help to just accept it."

"Most of those kids want my help."

"No, they don't. You don't hear what's being said behind your back." I say.

"What are they saying?" Max asks.

"They think you're creepy. I've heard a few kids say you're a pedophile or that there's something wrong with you mentally." I say.

"I'm none of those things. I'm a perfectly normal person." Max says.

"Then grow up and act like one. Don't just give out advice, wait until you're asked."

"You're right." Max says with a sigh.

"I'm just looking out for you." I say.

"Sure." Max says.

"I don't want one of those kids to push you over the edge."

"What do you mean?" Max asks puzzled.

"I don't want to see you drink yourself to death, or worse, you cut yourself and go a little too far and end up dead." I say.

"I don't want that to happen either. That's why I want to get clean." Max says.

"There is one other thing."

"What's that?" Max asks.

"I want you to cut back your work hours once the baby comes." I say.

"Why?"

"Because, I don't want you to miss out on their lives."

"I don't want to miss out on that either." Max says.

"So, you'll cut back?" I ask.

"As much as I can." Max says.

"Good. Now, I'm going to bed, are you coming?" I ask.

"I'll be up a bit later, I have a couple things I need to do."

"Ok, good night." I say.

"Goodnight." Max says.

I stand up and walk out of the room. I walk upstairs and head into the bedroom. I walk into the bathroom and get changed. I head back into the bedroom. I walk over to the bed and get in.

I lay down with a sigh. I mentally go over the days events. I remind myself to call home again tomorrow so I can talk to my sister. I close my eyes and try to fall asleep. It's no use because my mind is racing.

I try counting sheep, but that doesn't help. Finally I think about mentally saying my favorite song lyrics over and over. That works and I fall asleep thinking about all the good things that happened to me today.