Max watched Zack rise out of his chair and cross his arms, then looked to Logan, who seemed to be thoroughly displeased. She told herself it wasn't happening. Zack was busy somewhere else in the country, he wasn't standing there in front of her. Her evening with Logan was still fine. Whatever lies she had been telling herself had disappeared when she heard an unfamiliar voice ask, "What are you doing here?"
It was her own voice. She felt like she might faint.
"Where else would I find you?" Zack replied coolly.
"That's not what I meant," she said, anger slowly bubbling to the surface, "and you know it."
"I got your message," Zack spat.
"That was why I sent it," she said and jammed her hands in her jacket pockets. Old habits died hard, it seemed.
Zack shook his head. "I can't believe you did this."
"Don't act too surprised," Max said. "You were always telling me about staying safe and how I wasn't careful. Don't tell me some part of you didn't expect this."
"I thought you changed," Zack told her. "I thought you… I thought a lot of things. A lot of stupid things it seems."
He looked angrily at Logan.
"Don't do this, Zack," she said forcefully. "Don't make that mistake."
"Mistake?" he shot back. "Mistake? You're the one who made the mistake, Max. This is -"
"Phony sentimentality," she bit. "I know. I know that's what you think. When I asked you if you ever had a friend and you never answered… Zack, that gave me all the answers I needed."
He walked toward her. The champagne sloshed under his boots and the pieces of bottle he stepped on crunched.
All she could think of was snow.
He grabbed her arm roughly and pushed her into the next room.
"Hey!" Logan called angrily and followed them.
"Stay out of this!" Zack growled at him.
"Leave him out of this," Max said, feeling her face go red with anger. "It isn't about him!"
Zack stepped closer to her and scowled. "Of course it's about him! It's always been about him, Max! You think I was blind in Canada? It was always him."
"What are you even doing here?" she asked quietly and took a step back.
"I came back to try and change your mind," Zack told her. It was obvious he was trying to calm himself. "I talked to Jondy, Max. She said she misses you."
"You bastard," Max breathed. "Don't you dare try to use that against me!"
"Come with me," Zack pleaded.
"How could I ever go anywhere with you again?" Max said. "I tried being your sister and was only ever your prisoner, Zack."
"I can do better, Maxie," he said, rolling his emotions into one neat package again. "I'll take you to Jondy. You can stay with her. It's safer there."
He grabbed her hand but she pulled it away.
She told him, "I'd rather die here than live somewhere else."
He shook his head and made his way toward an open window - the way he had gotten in. He placed a foot on the sill then turned to face her.
"Do want you want, but you're throwing away your freedom," he said, new anger evident in his voice.
She crossed her arms and bit off, "Consider it a moment of weakness."
Zack turned and jumped out the window.
Max stormed over to the window and looked out. Zack was gone, of course. She slammed the window shut and stood in front of it, not wanting to face Logan. She could only imagine what Zack had told him. She wanted to kill Zack. She wanted to pound on his chest until he admitted that she was right to stay in Seattle. She wanted a brother. She stared out into the emptiness of the city and felt like crying. She felt like allowing every sob she'd kept in during her short life to creep out, but instead she hunched her shoulders and kept it all in. She was good at keeping it all in. It seemed as if leaving wasn't her only talent.
She heard the wheelchair retreat from the room and blinked back tears. Logan was probably disgusted with her. He was probably tired of the problems she brought to his doorstep. She thought he was probably a lot of things. There was only so much a person could take.
She rubbed a hand over her face and ignored her slight reflection in the window. She heard the wheelchair behind her and braced herself. She would simply turn around, apologize, and leave. She wouldn't bother Logan any longer.
She turned around slowly, expecting to find him behind her, looking disappointed and angry. Instead, she found him with a rag and a broom, sweeping up the champagne mess. She walked over to him and gingerly took the rag from his hand. She stepped inside the computer room so she could better reach the mess then dropped to her knees and began wiping up the liquid.
"You don't have to do that."
She noted the strain in his voice but didn't stop what she was doing. "It's my mess. It's my fault. I'll clean it up."
"It's all right," he said gently and grabbed her hand. He held it in his own and rubbed lazy circles on her palm with his thumb.
"God, Logan," she sighed and dropped the rag, "when did it all get this bad?"
"I wouldn't say bad," he said and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, "just… a little off course."
You couldn't blame her for being in love.