Part Twenty-Five
As I slowly become aware of my surroundings a few hours later, I realise three things: one, my neck hurts; two, I'm not in my bed, but instead am half-sitting, half-slumped against something hard; and three, that something hard is both warm… and breathing.
I shift slightly in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, but it turns out to be fruitless, so I give up and force my eyes open. I seem to be propped up against a bed, but in my sleepy state, I'm not entirely sure whose bed. I lift my head, careful not to jerk my aching neck and blink a couple of times as I pull my body into an upright sitting position and try to get my bearings, glancing around the room before me.
The faint morning sunlight streams in through the window opposite me and illuminates the features of the room. I can make out a mahogany desk situated along the wall beneath the window, and next to it, a dark, wooden wardrobe. On top of the desk I notice a sleek, silver laptop, a pile of books and a couple of photographs, although from my position on the floor, I can't tell who is in them. I turn my head to the left to see a small, wooden shelving unit; on the top shelf sits a TV, a combined VCR and DVD player and what looks like a PlayStation, and then the three shelves below contain several CDs, DVDs and books. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see a door next to the bed behind me.
I turn my head to the right to take in the rest of the room, but what I see makes me jump in surprise. The warm, breathing body I fell asleep on is none other than that of Max Evans. Just like me, he is also slumped against the side of the bed. His head rests at an angle against the mattress and his eyes are closed; he's asleep. For a moment, I am completely confused, but as I glance down at all the empty beer cans on the floor and over at the used ashtray on the bedside table, the events of last night come flooding back.
This is Daniel's house; I came here for the party last night, but then stumbled across Max and ended up sitting in here with him. I take another quick look around me as realisation dawns: I'm in Max's bedroom… and he's asleep beside me. That thought leads me to turn my attention back to his sleeping form again and I feel my insides churn as I watch him, peaceful in sleep. An image of him, eyes red-rimmed, cheeks damp with tears, hair sticking up all aver the place, a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, flits through my mind and for the first time, I don't see a smug, arrogant, flirtatious Max Evans in front of me, but instead a vulnerable, tired and defenceless Max Evans.
I can't help but study his features for a few moments. I never really allowed myself to do so before, but since he's asleep, I take the opportunity to really look at him. He really is the most attractive man I've ever seen; and as I take in the way his dark locks brush his forehead and the way his long eyelashes flutter slightly with every breath, I feel my chest tighten slightly. My eyes travel down his perfectly formed, straight nose to his full lips and I lift my fingers to my mouth as I recall exactly how those lips felt against mine all those weeks ago.
Beside me, Max shifts and I quickly let my hand drop and avert my eyes, but out of the corner of my eye I see his eyes flutter open and I find myself turning my head back to him again.
"Hi," he says, before stretching and letting out a sleep-filled yawn.
"Hi," I reply uncertainly, not really sure what else to say right now.
I watch as he sits up, but then leans forward, bracing his head in his hands with a groan.
"Aww, shit, my head."
I can't help but let out an amused snort, "Yeah, well, that's what happens when you drink almost an entire six-pack by yourself."
"Ha ha, very funny," I hear him mutter and I feel my lips beginning to twitch.
He groans and then drops his hands from his face, slumping back against the bed again.
"God, what time is it?"
I check my watch, "Nine-fifteen."
"Shit, I was supposed to be somewhere at nine," he mutters. Letting out a sigh, "I can't deal with this today. Let's get out of here."
He pulls himself to his feet and moves across the room, leaving me to stare after him in confusion from my position on the floor. I frown as he lifts his T-shirt over his head, revealing his muscular back briefly before he grabs a clean top out of his wardrobe and pulls it on.
He turns back to me, "You coming?"
"Coming where?" I ask, puzzled.
"Dunno, just somewhere," he shrugs. "I need to get away from here for a while."
I shake my head, "Max, I can't; I have lectures today."
He rolls his eyes as he turns and begins to rummage for something in the wardrobe, "So? No one ever died because they missed a couple of lectures."
"Max…" I start, but quickly trail off when he shoots me an innocent, pleading look.
"Aww, come on, Liz, it'll be fun."
I sigh, feeling my resolve begin to weaken as I take in the hopeful expression on his handsome face.
"Okay, fine," I mutter, standing up and straightening out my clothes. "So where are we going exactly?"
Ten minutes later, we're out the door of 28 Barrow Road and walking down the road, Max in front taking large strides and me following behind as I try to catch up with him. He's walking with determined steps, a look of concentration on his face and I wonder yet again what's been going on in his head the last couple of days.
"So, you didn't answer me before," I start when I finally manage to fall into step beside him. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see," is all he says and I shake my head in frustration, but continue to walk with him.
It takes another few minutes before I realise that we're heading towards the train station. I look up at Max questioningly as we approach the entrance, but he doesn't seem to be aware of my confusion. Once inside, he tells me to wait for a moment and then walks up to the ticket counter, leaving me staring at his retreating back as I wrack my brains for the reason we're here.
"Here you go," he announces a couple of minutes later, as he holds out a train ticket to me.
I take it and glance down at the rectangular piece of card in surprise, "We're going to the beach?"
"Uh huh," he nods. "It's only twenty minutes on the train."
"But why?" I frown, and take a quick look outside. "Max, it's only February, it'll be freezing down there. Plus, it's gone all cloudy now."
"So?" he shrugs. "It's not like it's only open in the summer."
I roll my eyes, but nod, "Fine, okay, let's go to the beach."
He gives me a small smile, before glancing up at the information screen and then reaching out to enclose his fingers around my wrist, "Come on then, let's go… there's a train leaving in five minutes."
I allow him to guide me through the station's main building and then up over the small bridge to the correct platform, where the small, slightly rundown train is standing, waiting for us to get on. Max lets go of my arm and takes a step back so I can get on first. The train is mostly empty, so I pick a section with a table and take the aisle seat while he slides into the window seat on the other side of the table.
While Max seems intent on staring out of the window as the train leaves the platform and exits the station, I pick up a discarded newspaper from the table and start to flick through it. The journey begins in silence, but after about five minutes he shifts in his seat and I look up to find him watching me, his dark eyes unreadable.
"What?" I ask, shifting self-consciously in my seat. But he doesn't reply and I frown. "Max? Are you okay?"
"Hmm?" he shakes his head and shifts again, as if he's reorienting himself. "Oh… yeah… I'm fine."
"Okay," I nod slowly, not sure if I believe him. He seems different than normal… more subdued and serious than I've ever seen him before. In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, I ask, "So why exactly are we on a train to the coast instead of going to our lectures today?"
He shrugs, "I'm not in the mood for lectures and meetings today."
"Because of last night?" I can't help but ask. "The debate and what you said about–?"
"I don't want to talk about it," he cuts me off quickly, turning his head to look out of the window again.
"Okay," I reply softly, getting the message. I decide to change the subject, "So, why the beach? Why not just stay at home instead?"
"Maybe I like the beach," he says quietly, stretching his leg and propping his foot up onto the seat beside me so that his knee is bent and visible above the table.
I nod and settle back in my seat and pick up the paper again. It's obvious that he's not in the mood for conversation right now, but it's on the tip of my tongue to ask why he made me come with him. His demeanour suggests that he doesn't want company at all, yet he was the one who invited me. I just don't get it.
The remainder of the short journey passes in silence, until the train comes to a stop at our destination. We both stand at the same time, but Max doesn't move and instead just makes a sweeping motion with his hand.
"After you."
I give him a small, grateful smile as I nod and move past him to get off the train. Once out on the platform, I pull my jacket tight around myself as the cold air hits me. Max doesn't seem to notice the cold, however; he just nods in the direction of the station building and begins to guide me towards it.
"This way."
Despite the cold, slightly windy winter day, I can't help but find myself enamoured by the small seaside town. We walk through some lovely community gardens on the way to the beach and then take in the quaint shops and cafés along the sea front. Several times, I almost comment on the scenery or point something out, but then I glimpse Max's serious, moody expression and decide against it. He's both confusing and concerning me right now. Where is the teasing, flirty, over-confident man who has made it his mission to annoy the hell out of me for the last five months? It's obvious that it has something to do with what he told me last night – about his mother's affair – but I get the uneasy feeling that it's more than that and I just can't figure out what.
We get about halfway along the sea front path, still walking in silence, when Max unexpectedly stops and looks to me with a hint of a smile.
"Let's go down to the beach."
I glance over the sea wall and take in the pale sand below, before shrugging, "Why not?"
"Come on then," he says, taking my wrist in his hand for the second time this morning and leading me through a small gate to the left and down the steps to the beach.
We walk along the sand for a couple of minutes, before Max decides he's going to sit down on a flat area of the beach. It takes me a moment to realise that he's not walking beside me anymore and when I see him making himself comfortable on the slightly damp sand I roll my eyes and turn back.
"You know, it's not easy to keep track of you when you keep wandering off without telling me," I say, in the hope of lightening the mood as I sit down beside him on the sand.
However, my comment doesn't have the desired effect, because all he does is shrug and stare out at the dark ocean. I decide not to say anything else and instead join him in watching the waves. Unfortunately, I can't stop wondering about his change in personality today and I know that it will keep nagging at me until I speak up.
"Max?" I venture tentatively.
He doesn't reply.
"Ma–" I try again, but this time he interrupts me, his voice sounding far away as he speaks.
"My mum had an affair," he repeats his words from the night before and I nod in understanding. "When I was little."
He sighs heavily, placing his head in his hands as he then sucks in a large breath. When he lifts his head to look out at the ocean again, I can see that his eyes are damp.
"I was only two years old and she was sleeping with someone who wasn't my dad," he says then. "Of course, I didn't know that then – I only found out a few years ago, but what she did destroyed everything."
"What happened, Max?" I ask softly, my chest constricting at the pain in his voice.
He glances at me briefly before continuing, "My dad was looking after me at home and mum was working late… well that's what she told him anyway. When she hadn't arrived home by nine forty-five, Dad got worried. She wasn't answering her office phone and so he asked our next-door neighbour to look after me while he went out to find her."
I don't say anything, but wait for him to continue. It's obvious to me that what he's telling me is difficult for him to talk about.
"About forty-five minutes later, the police arrived at the door and told our neighbour that Dad had been in a car crash," he says quietly, his breath hitching in his throat. "He was pronounced dead at the scene."
"Oh, Max," I whisper, my heart clenching with compassion for him. "I'm so sorry."
I reach out to him and curl my hand around his, offering him some comfort. His strong fingers tighten slightly around mine as he exhales and then continues to speak.
"I always knew that my Dad had died in a car crash when I was a toddler, but what I didn't find out until much later was that while he was lying dead in his car, my mum–" his voice catches and I have a terrible feeling I know what he's about to say. "My mum was in bed with another man."
"God… Max, I–"
He shakes his head and lets out a slight snort, "You know what? That's not even the worst part."
It's not? It seems pretty bad already and I find myself almost dreading hearing the rest.
"A few months later, Mum got remarried… to the very man she'd betrayed my dad with… and nine months after the accident, when I was three, my baby sister was born."
My eyes widen and I gasp as my mind connects the dots, "You mean…?"
He nods bitterly, "My sister was conceived on exactly the same night that my dad was killed while out looking for my mum." He sucks in a shaky breath as a lone tear begins to slide down his cheek. "I had no idea about any of it when I was growing up. My stepfather raised me – he's the only father I've ever known – and my sister and I were close when we were kids. We were just your run-of-the-mill happy family.
"But when I was sixteen, I came across a couple of old diaries in the attic when I was searching for something and I found out the truth." He looks down at our joined hands. "Maybe I shouldn't, but I blame my stepfather for my dad's death. I hate him – I can't help it. Every time I see him, it reminds me that he's the reason Mum didn't come home when she was supposed to; he's the reason my father was even in the car that night and if it weren't for him, my dad would still be alive today."
"Max, I don't know what to say," I murmur gently, leaning in toward him as I wrap my arm around his comfortingly. "I'm so sorry this happened to you."
"I don't really speak to my family anymore," he confesses then. "My sister keeps trying to persuade me to come home and spend some time with them, but I just can't face it. It feels like I'm betraying my father by going." He sighs, "After weeks of nagging, I stupidly agreed to spend Christmas at home this year, but it was just a big mistake."
"Why, what happened?" I ask curiously.
He lifts his head, gazing out at the ocean, "I just couldn't handle being there with them all… it's like they're this perfect little happy family of three and I just don't fit in."
I look down at my arm wrapped around his and nod in understanding before lifting my eyes to his face again.
"What about before you left home? How did you handle it then?"
He shrugs, "I wasn't at home much. In fact, I made it my mission to be out of the house as much as possible after I found out the truth. I spent all my time with my friends or going out with girls so that I didn't have to face them. By the time I finished school I knew I had to get away, so I left as soon as I could and I've barely been home since."
"Did you ever try to talk to your family about what you found?" I ask curiously.
"No," he shakes his head, looking down as his thumb begins to move back and forth across the skin of my hand, still encased in his larger one. I ignore the tingling sensation it creates in me in favour of focusing solely on Max. "Just the thought of it was too much for me. So, I did the only thing I knew how… I closed myself off and then ran away so I wouldn't have to deal with it."
My chest tightens in response to his soft words and my heart goes out to him for everything he's been through.
"Maybe you should try," I suggest gently, not wanting to overstep my bounds. "Maybe if you talk to them, tell them that you know what really happened and that you're angry and upset, it might help." He begins to shake his head in protest and I quickly add, "Max, you can't keep all this anger and hatred bottled up inside forever. It's not good."
He turns his head to face me and our eyes meet.
"I can't, Liz," he says adamantly. "I just can't."
"Okay," I quickly backtrack, not wanting to push the subject further than he's willing to take it just now. "That's okay; you don't have to do it right now or anything. It's just something to consider."
He relaxes then and returns my nod, before fixing his gaze on the ocean once more. I study his profile contemplatively, as a thought pops into my mind. Isabel has been going through something similar with her brother not being close with her or her parents. Perhaps if I introduce them, she could give Max some insight into how his family might be feeling about their relationship with him. It's obvious Max isn't in the mood to discuss it right now, but maybe I'll talk to her later and see what she thinks.
After spending a few minutes sitting together in silence on the damp sand, taking in the view of the grey sky where it meets the dark horizon of the sea and watching the timid waves break and rush up onto the beach, Max shifts beside me and extracts his hand from mine as he turns to face me, his features more relaxed than I've seen them all day.
"I'm starving," he announces as he stands up and brushes the sand from his jeans. "You wanna get something to eat?"
"Sure," I reply, looking up at him from my spot on the sand. "Although I don't have any cash on me."
I don't have much on me at all, actually. All I took to the party last night, apart from my jacket, was my hall key.
"S'okay," he returns the smile as he holds out his hand to help me up. "My treat."
"Thanks."
"No," he shakes his head, as I take his hand and he pulls me upright. "Thank you."
I just smile in response.
As we walk back across the sand and up the steps to the road again, I notice that Max's demeanour has changed since earlier this morning, as if finally telling someone about his family has lifted a huge weight from his shoulders. In fact, I soon decide that it is definite a weight off his shoulders because within moments of being seated in a small, local café along the seafront and picking up the menus, he's pretty much back to his usual teasing self. But the funny thing is, as he sends me a knowing smirk and makes a teasing comment about something on the menu, it doesn't annoy me nearly as much as it would have a couple of days ago.
"So you're telling me that you've never considered it? Not once… ever?"
I roll my eyes, with a slight shake of my head, "No, Max, I have never considered it."
"Really?" he wrinkles his nose in thought. "Not even as a passing thought?" I shake my head again. "But aren't you, like, curious or anything?"
"Max," I sigh in exasperation, shooting him a glare as we enter the train station a few hours later. "I am never going to sleep with another woman, okay? So you can just get your mind out of the gutter and stop trying to picture it."
"Fine," he huffs with a pout, shoving his hands in his pockets as he continues to walk beside me. "Spoilsport."
I turn my head and stick my tongue out at him before heading for the platform where our train home is waiting. I can't help but conceal a smile as I step onto the train in front of Max; today has certainly been… interesting. Actually, I don't think 'interesting' is the right word; it's actually been eye-opening. Max Evans is still something of a mystery to me, but today he's given me a small insight into who he really is. I would never have imagined that beneath the flirting and the arrogant behaviour was an emotionally damaged, vulnerable boy.
Just like this morning, the train is virtually empty and so I choose one of the table seats again, but this time I decide to sit by the window. Max slides into the aisle seat opposite – presumably so he can stretch his legs – and shoots me a mischievous grin.
"What about threesomes?"
"Just stop, okay, Max?" I say warningly. "Never gonna happen."
"It was worth a try," he smirks with a shrug and then glances around the train as it begins to move.
I let out a soft snort and roll my eyes as I turn to look out of the window. It's almost five o'clock now and because of the heavy cloud today it's almost dark already. Despite the cold, wintry weather, I've had a pretty good time today. After lunch, Max and I spent some time wandering around the shops and then went for a drink in one of the local pubs when the darkening clouds finally gave way to rain. All afternoon, the atmosphere remained light – kind of an unspoken agreement between us, I guess – and so the majority of the conversation was teasing small talk, neither of us willing to bring up any serious issues after our exchange on the beach earlier.
I continue to stare out of the window into the darkness, until Max's voice saying my name catches my attention.
"Yeah?" I ask, turning to face him. He's looking at me thoughtfully.
"What happened with you and Jake?"
I frown at the unexpected question, but choose to answer anyway.
"We decided to call it a day," I give a shrug. "I already told you that."
"Why?" he asks bluntly and I frown again. "I mean, was it just not working out?"
"Why do you want to know?" I question, a little offended. "I mean, that's kind of a personal question."
"I'm curious," he replies; but then his expression becomes closed and he looks away, "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. Just forget about it."
I remain silent for a couple of moments, but then something compels me to speak.
"It just wasn't meant to be," I admit. "Jake and I."
Max nods, but keeps his gaze fixed on something further down the train.
"It wasn't anything in particular, it was just that we didn't have that… chemistry, I guess," I say softly. "We sat down one day and realised that it wasn't working out. So we agreed to break up."
Max turns his head to face me then, his eyes dark and serious, "But you did have feelings for him?"
"Yeah," I nod. "I just… I didn't feel enough, you know?"
He nods, but glances away again.
"And I think maybe Jake felt more for me than I did for him," I confess quietly, as I look down at my hands in my lap. "So, it was for the best, I guess."
"Yeah," murmurs Max as he shifts slightly and then props his legs up on the seat opposite him.
We settle back into silence and I rest my head against the window, the lack of sleep last night finally catching up with me. I feel my eyelids getting heavy and so I bring my legs up to rest on the seat in front of me, mimicking Max's position and close my eyes.
After what seems like just a moment later, but must have actually been several minutes, something tapping against my leg rouses me from my light doze and I force my eyes open to find Max watching me in amusement, his chin resting on his right hand which is propped up on the table as his left knuckles rest against my leg where he was trying to get my attention.
"Huh?" I mumble sleepily.
"We're here," he smiles, nodding towards the window at the station platform outside. "Come on."
I bring my hands up to my face and rub away the sleep, before nodding, sliding out of the seat and following Max out of the train.
"Come on, sleepyhead," he smirks over his shoulder as he strides through the station toward the exit and I have trouble keeping up with his large steps.
"I'm coming," I mutter, still a little disoriented from being woken up only a few minutes after I'd fallen asleep.
I quicken my steps in an attempt to catch up, but almost bump into him when he suddenly stops just inside the station entrance.
"Shit," he murmurs.
"What's wrong?" I ask, but then I notice what he's looking at. It's absolutely pouring with rain outside… and it's about a twenty-minute walk home from here. "Oh."
"Yeah."
"Can't we get a taxi back or something?"
"I don't have enough cash left for a taxi," he tells me, his tone frustrated. "And I don't have my card on me."
"Oh," I say again. Crap. "All I have are my keys."
He shrugs, "I guess we're just gonna get wet then."
I look out at the heavy rain with a raised eyebrow, "Yeah…"
"Well, we might as well get it over with," he sighs then, holding out a hand to me. "You ready?"
I slide my small hand into his much larger one, "I guess so."
"Okay, on three. One, two, three."
At that, we both make a run for it. We move across the car park, trying to dodge the large puddles as the rain beats down on us. I can feel the large, heavy drops soaking my hair as we make our way to the main road and then begin to follow it back towards campus as quickly as possible. However, after a while I feel my body become tired and I tug on Max's arm to get him to slow down. We end up alternating between walking and running until we arrive back at his house on Barrow Road again.
When we finally come to a stop outside his front door, I bend down, resting my hands on my knees as I try to catch my breath.
"You okay?" I hear Max's voice from above my head.
I nod and stand up straight again, pushing my wet hair back off my face, "Yeah, just tired… and wet."
I lift my head and my eyes suddenly lock with his. I feel my heart skip a beat as I take in his intense expression. His hair is plastered to his forehead, making him look both sexy and endearing at the same time. I can't help it; I take a step closer, drawn in by the look in his dark gaze and suck in a breath. I see his eyes flit lower for a second and then I feel a hand slip around my waist. Incensed by the now familiar tingling feeling that is beginning to spread through me, I lift my head in invitation, but as I watch Max's lips lower toward mine, I find myself pulling away. I can't do this now; it's too much… it's been a long, confusing twenty-four hours and I still haven't got my head around it all yet.
"I, um, I'd better get going," I stutter, as I take a step back.
His arm falls from my waist as I do so and he looks confused for a moment, before his expression quickly becomes neutral.
"Okay."
"Thanks for a great day, Max," I say a little nervously, as I take a few more steps backward, in the direction of the campus. "I had fun."
"Sure," he nods, his tone even. "And thanks for… you know."
He doesn't need to elaborate, I know what he means and I give a slight smile.
"No problem."
I know I should move, but as I look at him, his hands now shoved into the pockets of his wet jeans, I find that I'm frozen to the spot. The rain continues to beat down, drenching our hair and clothes even more as we just stand there looking at each other. His eyes bore into mine and I feel my heart racing in reaction, but I know that I can't give into temptation right now. Everything's kind of confusing at the moment, and I need some time to figure it all out in my head… to get some perspective of the situation… before I do anything else.
With a resolved exhalation, I gather all the willpower I have and turn to leave.
"Bye, Max."
"See you around, Liz," I hear him utter the now familiar words as I begin half-walking and half-running along the dark road and back to my hall.
But all the way home, I can't get my mind off Max Evans and the events of the past twenty-four hours. In just one day my entire opinion of him as been turned completely upside-down and I can't quite work out how to sort it all out in my head.
TBC…