The Runaways – Chapter 8
By MyNameIsCAL
---Max's POV---
Iggy left in a hurry all of a sudden. He barely said goodbye as I walked back into Fang's room with drinks.
Fang had his eyes closed, rubbing his leg.
"Can I tell you something?" he asked.
"Of course," I said, placing his drink on the bedside table.
He sat up, his eyes meeting mine. "Sit for a while."
I took a seat on the opposite side of the bed. It took a long time for him to say anything else. He looked content with staring at the wall, as if he might be able to burn a hole through it with his eyes.
"I haven't told anyone else…My dad did more than beat me up," he said in an almost whisper. "My mom is a drug addict. And I stole her drugs to sell to Josh so I could get money to support myself. The car you drove me here with I stole from my dad. And my dad was never around. He just…Showed up the other night. He's messing with my mom's head. Then he drugged me, beat me, and he…"
Fang trailed off, his eyes going from the wall, to me, and then back to the wall.
"It's ok, you can tell me," I assured him. "I won't tell anyone."
He closed his eyes. "He raped me."
Tears began to stream from Fang's eyes. I let him lean against me as he cried, shaking. He began to sob how he didn't get help because he was trying to protect his mother. He told me of how he sold stolen drugs to Josh every Friday night before going to the mall where he would see me. By the time his sobs turned to shudders, I felt like he had just gave me his whole life story, revealing his secrets along the way.
I gave him a hug and he hugged me back, his chin resting on my shoulder as he sniffled.
"I'll tell you why we took you in, Fang," I whispered in his ear. "I had a brother, Ari. And Jeb, my dad, beat him all the time. Ari wanted to run away, and when he tried, he got hit by a car. Seeing you and the way you had been hurt, I couldn't just let you go off by yourself. I didn't want to see something bad happen to you."
Fang and I pulled away from each other. His eyes met mine, full of deep sadness. In exchange for his story, I exchanged the one I had never told anyone else.
"Please stay here," I pleaded, feeling teary myself now. "I've never had anyone to talk to like you."
He gave me a sad smile, taking my hand. "Thank you, Max."
---Fang's POV---
Opening up to Max made me feel a whole lot better. A weight had lifted off me and now it felt easier to talk to Max about anything. She sat at the end of the bed now, eating dinner with me as she told me about her father.
"Why do you have to see him?" I asked.
"Well, Mom was never the one to fight back." Max never said my mom. I found that interesting. "And Jeb wanted to split custody. I fought with our lawyer that I only had to spend every other weekend, but it ended up being every weekend until I turn eighteen. That's next year."
"So you won't be around this weekend."
"Unfortunately, no," she responded. "But you should invite Iggy over or something to keep you company. Mom and Ella won't mind."
"I guess I should catch up on homework too," I said.
"Make yourself at home," she offered. "You should unpack your bags, get your clothes into drawers."
"Are you sure? I don't want to take up so much space."
She shook her head. "Hey, this is your room now."
I looked around. How did someone like me get so lucky to meet someone like Max?
---Max's POV---
I thought about today as I lay in bed. Fang just seemed so misunderstood now. I felt bad for him. But there was something else about him. Something that would make me resent going to Jeb's more and longing to come back home sooner.
I didn't really have a lot of friends. I guess Ella, well she was really my best friend. Telling Fang about Ari had been the first time I had ever told anyone about it. I don't know what had compelled me to tell him, but it felt right telling him, like he really needed to know about it. Now that I thought about it, I sort of trusted Fang. And trust wasn't something I let people gain easily.
Turning to my side, I faced the wall. It was late now and only the beginning of the week. Once this weekend was over, I could finally enjoy Spring Break. A whole two weeks to wake up at noon, sleep at three in the morning, and watch TV reruns. The best part, I wouldn't have to see Jeb over break.
Still, Fang kept invading my thoughts. He was constantly on my mind. In school, I would sit and stare off out the window, wondering how he was doing back at home. I even started to notice his empty seat in my classes.
"Does anyone know where Nick is?" Mrs. Hutchins asked.
"He'll be in school tomorrow," I replied.
Mrs. Hutchins looked at me, taken aback. "Oh, ok."
The rest of the class gave me strange looks too.
When the bell rang, Josh approached me.
"Is he okay?" Josh questioned quietly.
I shrugged. "Considering what happened to him, yeah I guess he is."
"Tell him if he needs anything to call me," Josh said.
"Ok, thanks," I nodded.
---Fang's POV---
Max helped me out of her mom's car. It was Wednesday, the halfway point of the school week. She carried my backpack as we went through the hallways. People whispered as we went by. I would ask the same questions if I were them too: What was someone like Max doing with someone like him?
We stopped at my locker and she grabbed the books I needed. Today was going to be interesting.
None of my teachers questioned my absence. I wondered what they thought of me. It wasn't a secret that Josh was dealing drugs and that I was his friend. The teachers probably knew, but Josh had money and money meant power to his family, so the teachers didn't mess with us.
"So, you do you want to sit with me at lunch?" I asked Max.
I waited for her to say no, but she didn't.
"Where do you want to sit?" she responded instead.
"Where do you usually sit?"
"With my lab partner and her friends," Max shrugged. "They won't miss me."
I looked around the lunchroom for Iggy, but I didn't see him.
"What's wrong?" she questioned.
"Iggy isn't here. Usually I sit with him," I answered.
We sat at the table Iggy and I usually sat at anyway. Every now and then I would catch someone pointing or staring at us. They were quick to look away when they noticed I was looking. Max seemed to be less self-conscious, although she wasn't the one that had a face covered full of bruises. Then again, I was worried she would be made a social outcast because of me. No one hung around the people who made friends with drug dealers and addicts besides the same kind of people.
"Don't pay attention to them," she told me. "Just let them think what they want about what happened to you."
I started to eat my sandwich. "That's not what I'm worried about."
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