Michael slowly leaned over the unconcious body of his friend, brushing dark brown hair away from Max's eyes. "Do you know what happened, Michael?"
Michael sighed softly as he heard Isabelle's voice. She was concnerned; he knew that. But did she haveto act like he knew all of the answers? Was this how Maxwell felt all the time? "He's comming to!" Michael suddenly annoucned, cradling the side of Max's face as the young man slowly opened his eyes, moaning softly at the harsh glare of light that instantly assaulted him.
"Light . . . . . . . ." He muttered, and he heard the Michael holler, "Is, shut your damned win dow! And your light! It's hurtin' him!" Since when did Michael swear? Max thought confusedly, rolling his head over to the side.
He was lying in Michael's bed, stipped down to his boxers. Michael never let ANYBODY into his bed, event hough it was rarely made. His room was always a mess. And yet, he could feel the clean blankets beneath him, spread out neatly underneath him.
And from the glimpse he'd caught of the room, it was neat and orderly; not something he'd come to expect from Michael Evans.
"Are you okay, Maxwell?" That was Michael, concern lacing his voice. Michael must have carried him here, brought him nito his own room, rather than take him all the way back to Hank. Back to Max's hell.
"I'm fine, Michael. Stop fukin' hoverin' over me, k? Jesus Christ!" Max xclaimed, slowly sittingup in the bed. Just a moment ago he'd been hoping with all of his might that Michael and Isabelle would let him stay here, atleast for the night. Now, all that he wanted to do was get out.
"Dammit Maxwell, you don't haveto snap. I was just worried about you. Do you have any idea what happened back there? I mean allt hat you did was touch the thing ........" Michael let his voice trai loff into nothing, watching his friend closely.
"Yes, Michael, I do have an idea what happened. I touched the granolith, and I practically exploded into red-hot fire ........ or atleast that's what it felt like. Other than that? Don't remember a thing, don't know a thing. Noe leave me alone!" Max hissed, running a hand through his dark brown hair.
Since when did he wear his hair like this? Usually he had it spiked, or atleast jelled up. With his luck, Isabelle got him into the shower or somet hing equally degrading. She'd always hated the way he wore his hair. And since when did Michael wear his like that?
Michael was always the calm one of the group, the one making the rational decisions. Max, on the other hand, was willing to just give somebody a good beating to get whatever information they needed. They usually didn't get along too well.
"I"m going home," Max muttered, slowly swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The sooner he got outo f here, the better. Not that he'd actually go home.
More blank stares, mixing with an over-riding confusion. "Max, you are home. This is our house; you know, where you, me, mom, and dad live?!" Isabelle exclaimedshifting slightly, the better to see Max. She had been sitting, slouched in a chair across the room from his bed, but now she sat bold upright, gripping the arms of the chair, until he nuckles turned a stark white.
"What are you talking about Is ........" Michael cut him off harshly before Max could ven finish saying the young woman's name, asking gruffly, "Max, I thinkt hat something more than just a nock on the head might have happened when the granolith reacted to you the way that it did. The others looked away when it hit you; I didn't. I think that ........ I'm not exactly sure what I think. But maybe we should have Liz run some tests, find out if anything out of the odinary is g oing on ehre."
"Wait, wait. Who's Liz?" Max asked, noticing the look of terror that crossed both of his friends faces. Was he supposed to know some chick named Liz? He definately didn't remember meeting her, but then again Michael was always yelling at him for forgetting stuff that he should remember. Probably the reaon why Michael was the thinker, and he was the doer.
"Majorly, something happened. And i'm gonna find out what it was now." Michael hissed, slamming out of the room. Max sunk back down, onto the neatly folded covers to the bed beneath him, mulling over what Isabelle had said a couple of moments ago.
"Isabelle, what d'you mean, this is where I live? I mean, not likin' Hank is one thing, but refusin' to beleive that I live with the fuy is anot her matter altogeather." Max murmured, rolling over so that he faced the other woman.
"Hank? Max, Michael was the one who lived with Hank, not you. You got adopted by the Evans, same as me, remember? Michael, Geurin, Isabelle and Maxwell Evans. Ring a belle?" Isabelle laughed nervously, anything to break the tension radiating throughout the room.
"Okay, now you've lost me. Isabelle, my name is Maxwell Geurin. NOT Evans. And i'm tired. WE'llt alk 'bout this again when I wake up, K?" He got no answer, and Max didn't check to see if she'd even ehard him, merely rolled over onto his back and slowly closed his eyes, allowing his muscles to relax. He only did that when he was in this hou se, and he asn't going to giveup the chance to have a good night's sleep for once