Chapter Twenty Six

:: Max ::

"Scotch on the rocks and a Mornin' Delight."

Max glanced up at the bartender with an odd look. The bartender motioned towards the glass.

"Mornin ' Delight. Imperial stout like you requested. I think you'll like it."

Max just nodded. "Thanks." He raised the glass and took a sip. The bartender hovered, cleaning a glass with a threadbare rag.

"Well?"

The taste of coffee hit him hard. Max shook his head.

"Not my thing."

A large hand tapped the bar top. "Get the man a Devil's Backbone."

"Coming right up." The bartender whisked away the offending drink. Max picked at a basket of soggy fries.

"Sooooo, this is fun."

Max turned to look at his friend. Colosso downed his scotch and smiled at him, his monocle slipping slightly. Nacho cheese sauce clung to his chin.

"I'm sorry," Max said, scooting the basket away. Colosso snatched it greedily, stuffing five fries in his mouth at once.

True to his word, Max had turned Colosso human for a guys night out. After one drink, Colosso was already having a good time.

Max was miserable.

"Devil's Backbone."

Max took the new glass and braved a sip. The flavor hit his tongue and slid down smooth. He gave the bartender a thumbs up.

"Good?"

"Yeah," Max turned the glass around, studying the liquid. "How do you know so much about craft beers?"

Colosso smiled. "I've been studying for the bar."

"Isn't that for lawyers?"

His eyes sparkled. "It's bartender lingo for the bartending exam," Colosso laughed so hard he cackled.

Max smiled. Colosso nudged him.

"Atta boy. Now, will you tell me what happened that night?"

Max took another sip. "Nope."

"Well, I'm smarter than old Hank-o and I did manage to get your suit to the balcony with my own two pa—hands," Colosso looked around and lowered his voice. "I can guess what happened and I'm sure I'm right. So, do you want to talk about what happened after whatever happened stopped happening?"

"Nope."

"Will you at least look at the list I made?"

From his pants pocket, Colosso pulled out a list and unfurled it. The paper cascaded over the bar top.

"What's that?"

Colosso tapped it with his carefully trimmed fingernails. "This is a list of all the times Phoebe has insulted you or me or acted like she was better than everyone else. It clearly demonstrates how—"

Max winced and took another drink. "Put that away."

Colosso sighed and rolled up the paper. "I don't like anyone who hurts you."

"We're both hurt. She's just doing a better job at hiding it."

Colosso pushed his shot glass away and tapped the rim. The bartender slid him another scotch. As he brought his beer to his lips, Max's cell phone vibrated against his hip. He pulled it out and glanced down hoping to see the cross-eyed, tongue out picture of her on the screen.

Instead, he saw a text from Oyster. He read it and sighed.

"More good news?" Colosso asked wryly.

"Oyster and Cherry broke up again."

"They're made for each other," Colosso said. "They just keep breaking up because their combined IQ adds up to nine."

Max kept staring at the message. Oyster was on his way to who-knows-where in his beat up old van. He imagined Cherry blowing up Phoebe's phone. Phoebe would do what she always did, comforting her bestie. Meanwhile, she couldn't even tell Cherry about her own drama.

All thanks to him.

Dreaming of sleeping with Phoebe had been one thing. Actually doing it and then having dreams about it was another. It had only been two weeks and Max was sure he was going to go insane. Seeing her every day, bumping into her awkwardly in the hall…

"I'll be right back," he said, sliding off his barstool.

"Where ya going?"

Max glanced around. He smiled and leaned towards his nosy friend.

"That woman has been checking you out since we got here," Max whispered. "I'm going to get some 'air.'" He bent his fingers into quotes. Colosso leaned around him and smiled at a blonde woman in her late 40s who hadn't looked over at them once. His eyes widened.

"She's a hottie. Thanks Maxy," Colosso flipped the collar of his shirt and swiveled around.

Max hurried towards the door to escape the impending awkwardness and burst out onto the sidewalk. The cool air was a welcomed change from the stuffy bar. Max leaned against the brick exterior, buffered from the roughness by his leather jacket. He stared at his phone for a couple seconds thinking of what he was going to say.

It was completely un-Max-like. She probably would think it was a joke.

He'd have to promise her she'd never tell.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he tapped the icon next to her name and pressed the phone against his ear.

"P-Pheebs?"

"It's Max."

Cherry's wail almost shattered his eardrum. "You're the wrong Thunderman!"

Max let her hiccup out three more sobs. "I'm sorry about Oyster."

Cherry sniffled. "I'm sorry I said you were the wrong Thunderman. It's just I was hoping Phoebe could—"

Even though Max was about to do something he never thought he'd do, he still couldn't be sucked into a Cherry meltdown.

"I have a mission I have to do by myself and I can't move into the apartment. Phoebe needs a roommate. Are you still interested?"

The question distracted the blonde so much she almost forgot to sniffle. "A mission alone?"

Max pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yup."

"Without Phoebe?"

"Yes."

For how long?"

"I don't know."

"Where?"

For Max, the question was 'Why' — Why did Cherry's brain decide to ask smart questions now? He was making up everything on the fly. He didn't have time to etch out details.

"At home. I can't tell you more."

"Ooh, okay," Cherry whispered. "Your secrets safe with me. But, I can't move in with Pheebs."

Max almost groaned. "Why?"

"I lost my job and I bought a car," Cherry began to cry again. "Not in that order, but that's what happened. It's also why Oyster and I broke up. He said his van didn't get a good vibe from my car. Can you believe that? I can live with sharing him with a guitar, but to bring my car into—"

"I can give you six month's worth of rent," Max blurted out.

Cherry sniffled a disgusting amount of snot back through her nose. "What?"

Max sighed, "You can't tell Phoebe I'm doing this, but she wants to move out and it would protect her."

Cherry gasped. "Is she in danger?"

Max's IQ was shrinking the longer the conversation went on. He found himself shrugging at his phone. "Only if she doesn't move out."

It wasn't a complete lie. Max didn't know how they could cohabitate much longer.

"You'd really do that for me?"

Max glanced up at the sky. The stars seemed a lot dimmer than they had been the night on the hotel roof.

"What are friends for?"

Cherry squealed. "I'm going to text Pheebs now!"

"Remember, you can't tell her about my mission or the money."

"Mmmpph."

"What?"

Cherry sighed. "I said my lips are sealed."

"Bye, Cherry."

Max disconnected and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

He knew this was the best plan. As much as he wanted out of his parent's house, he also knew he was savvy enough to get enough money to get his own place. It would take maybe a year tops, but it would be worth it.

He owed it to Phoebe to make life normal again.

Or, as normal as the Thundermans lives could be.

Max turned to head back into the bar, but the sight of Colosso nose to nose with the blonde made him stop. She actually looked interested in whatever Colosso was murmuring to her. Max stepped back out into the night.

Things were falling into place all around him.

Only time would tell if things fell into place for him.

— THE END —

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who stuck with this story until the end. If you could take a moment, honest reviews (good or bad) will help me grow as a writer. If you read this story first, please read Of Blood and Thunder next as it will answer many of the questions left unanswered here. For those who read OBAT first, I hope this story provided an adequate background on how the Thundertwins drama all began!