Chapter Eleven
Logan stepped in the door later that evening, carrying a brown paper bag full of Max's favorite foods. Tonight he was going to make a dinner to end all dinners, and sit down and talk with Max, actually talk to her, and hopefully, close the gap that had so quickly been growing between them. "Max? Are you here?" He called out. When she didn't answer, he glanced around the apartment, looking for signs of life. Logan knew she had had an appointment with her shrink that morning, but that was at like ten or so, she should be back, since it was close to five. He saw a note taped to the refrigerator, and grabbing it with one hand, he read it as he dropped the bag of groceries to the counter.
Logan,
Went out, will be back later, don't wait up.
Max
"Where the hell are you Max?" Logan muttered as he leaned against the counter and re-read the note.
Max was having the time of her life. At least, the time of her week long existence. She was at a bar in the middle of South Market, hanging out with a whole new group of people, people she didn't know, people who didn't know her. They didn't have any expectations of her, didn't have any little inside jokes she was expected to understand. You had Michael, the mechanic, dating Grace, the nurse, whose sister was Rachel, the bartender whose best friend Phillip was the bouncer at the bar. And she was simply Max, who was more than happy to make up her story as she went along.
Drinking a few beers with people she was comfortable with, Max felt completely comfortable with herself.
That mood of giddiness followed her up to the penthouse floor of Foggle towers. Realizing she forgot her key, Max stared at the door. It was past midnight, and Logan would probably be asleep. Max checked her pockets a second time, trying to make sure she definitely did not have a key before she knocked. When she found a set of thin metal picks in the one pocket, she instinctively pulled them out of her pocket and slid them into the lock. She was surprised when the door opened with a quiet click a few seconds later.
"Since when do I know how to pick locks?" Max muttered as she stepped into the apartment. "Why do I know how to pick locks?"
She was pulling of her leather jacket and tossing it onto a chair next when she saw the light under the door to the room where she hadn't done much exploring yet. When she glanced in, she recognized it as an office, but she really didn't even know what exactly Logan did for a living.
Max went to walk into her room, when she thought better of it, and walked over to the office door. He would probably worry if she didn't let him know she was back. Max knocked softly on the doorframe before she walked in. "Hey, I'm back."
Logan turned, unconsciously moving in front of the computer screen to block it from view. He had been trying to find a way to contact Zack, even if he hated him, he was Max's brother and he did have a right to know. "Oh, hey. Where'd you go off to?"
"Oh, here and there. Question for you, did you know if I was able to pick locks?"
"Huh?" Logan asked, caught off guard. "Do you remember something?"
"No, not really, but a minute ago, I was at the door, and I forgot my keys. I found these in my pocket," Max explained holding up the case of picks. "And for some reason or another, I was able to pick the lock."
Logan smiled slightly. "Yeah, you knew how to pick locks. Drove me insane with it. I never knew when you'd walk in, unexpected. There was only like one time ever that you rang my doorbell."
Max smiled, happy to have another memory to the other handful of information she knew about herself. Then she frowned slightly. "That wasn't very nice of me, you must have had like no privacy."
Logan laughed at this. "To say the very least. But trust me, only you could barge in at three in the morning, wake me up for no apparent reason and get away with it."
Max laughed with him. "Didn't I ever sleep?"
"That is a question for the ages, one we may never know the answer too." He replied soberly.
"Hey, is there anything to eat, I never got a chance to grab anything tonight, and I am starved."
"Oh sure, I'll make something for you, I never got a chance to eat myself." Logan said standing.
They ate waffles at one AM, sitting on the counters in the kitchen, the tension and discomfort of the past couple days melting away, at least for the time being, as Max talked about her session with Ethan, Logan about the fiscal that shopping in South Market had turned into.
Max finally claimed fatigue and slipped out of the room at close to three AM, having spent almost two hours talking with Logan. As she crawled into bed, she wondered what had changed, and why it was so easy to talk to Logan now, and wondering why she feared that it wouldn't be that easy tomorrow.
Logan stepped in the door later that evening, carrying a brown paper bag full of Max's favorite foods. Tonight he was going to make a dinner to end all dinners, and sit down and talk with Max, actually talk to her, and hopefully, close the gap that had so quickly been growing between them. "Max? Are you here?" He called out. When she didn't answer, he glanced around the apartment, looking for signs of life. Logan knew she had had an appointment with her shrink that morning, but that was at like ten or so, she should be back, since it was close to five. He saw a note taped to the refrigerator, and grabbing it with one hand, he read it as he dropped the bag of groceries to the counter.
Logan,
Went out, will be back later, don't wait up.
Max
"Where the hell are you Max?" Logan muttered as he leaned against the counter and re-read the note.
Max was having the time of her life. At least, the time of her week long existence. She was at a bar in the middle of South Market, hanging out with a whole new group of people, people she didn't know, people who didn't know her. They didn't have any expectations of her, didn't have any little inside jokes she was expected to understand. You had Michael, the mechanic, dating Grace, the nurse, whose sister was Rachel, the bartender whose best friend Phillip was the bouncer at the bar. And she was simply Max, who was more than happy to make up her story as she went along.
Drinking a few beers with people she was comfortable with, Max felt completely comfortable with herself.
That mood of giddiness followed her up to the penthouse floor of Foggle towers. Realizing she forgot her key, Max stared at the door. It was past midnight, and Logan would probably be asleep. Max checked her pockets a second time, trying to make sure she definitely did not have a key before she knocked. When she found a set of thin metal picks in the one pocket, she instinctively pulled them out of her pocket and slid them into the lock. She was surprised when the door opened with a quiet click a few seconds later.
"Since when do I know how to pick locks?" Max muttered as she stepped into the apartment. "Why do I know how to pick locks?"
She was pulling of her leather jacket and tossing it onto a chair next when she saw the light under the door to the room where she hadn't done much exploring yet. When she glanced in, she recognized it as an office, but she really didn't even know what exactly Logan did for a living.
Max went to walk into her room, when she thought better of it, and walked over to the office door. He would probably worry if she didn't let him know she was back. Max knocked softly on the doorframe before she walked in. "Hey, I'm back."
Logan turned, unconsciously moving in front of the computer screen to block it from view. He had been trying to find a way to contact Zack, even if he hated him, he was Max's brother and he did have a right to know. "Oh, hey. Where'd you go off to?"
"Oh, here and there. Question for you, did you know if I was able to pick locks?"
"Huh?" Logan asked, caught off guard. "Do you remember something?"
"No, not really, but a minute ago, I was at the door, and I forgot my keys. I found these in my pocket," Max explained holding up the case of picks. "And for some reason or another, I was able to pick the lock."
Logan smiled slightly. "Yeah, you knew how to pick locks. Drove me insane with it. I never knew when you'd walk in, unexpected. There was only like one time ever that you rang my doorbell."
Max smiled, happy to have another memory to the other handful of information she knew about herself. Then she frowned slightly. "That wasn't very nice of me, you must have had like no privacy."
Logan laughed at this. "To say the very least. But trust me, only you could barge in at three in the morning, wake me up for no apparent reason and get away with it."
Max laughed with him. "Didn't I ever sleep?"
"That is a question for the ages, one we may never know the answer too." He replied soberly.
"Hey, is there anything to eat, I never got a chance to grab anything tonight, and I am starved."
"Oh sure, I'll make something for you, I never got a chance to eat myself." Logan said standing.
They ate waffles at one AM, sitting on the counters in the kitchen, the tension and discomfort of the past couple days melting away, at least for the time being, as Max talked about her session with Ethan, Logan about the fiscal that shopping in South Market had turned into.
Max finally claimed fatigue and slipped out of the room at close to three AM, having spent almost two hours talking with Logan. As she crawled into bed, she wondered what had changed, and why it was so easy to talk to Logan now, and wondering why she feared that it wouldn't be that easy tomorrow.