Max is Cultured

JUSTIN

Two weeks passed, and Max was still moping around and begging Justin to not make him go to school, which he did every day after the second day of not attending school, even though he seemed to be enjoying the math tutoring he was getting from Justin. He just needed something to adjust that attitude. Getting out of the house for something besides school.

Justin stood behind Max, who was sitting on the couch, flipping channels without even stopping on any station. He just scratched his head and moved on. What could he do to change this around? Where could they go? With all the brains he had, relationships with people always seemed to be the hardest to be smart about.

"Maxie." Justin lied his hand on Max's shoulder.

Max jolted in surprise. When he turned around, Justin noticed that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Alex sold a couple paintings."

"That's cool. Max, lets go out for dinner tonight."

"Nah." Max flicked his hand and went back to flipping channels.

Justin got his wand out and made the television disappear. He hopped over the back of the couch, tripping over it. His face landed hard in Max's chest, making him let out an "oph." Justin quickly sat up and straightened his tie and vest.

"If you agree to go out to dinner with me, you can pick the restaurant. Even that Space Pizza place you like so well." Justin urged.

Max pushed his lips from side to side as the wheels in his head started up, very slowly. He had a slight constipated look on his face. Finally, he bit his lower lip and shook his head. "I want to go to Seven Deadly Sins."

Justin sucked air through his teeth. That was one of the most expensive and fancy restaurants in New York. "Are you sure that's where you want to go? They don't have any ball pits or cardboard hats."

"Duh! Justin. I'm not a children anymore. I know what Seven Deadly Sins is." A creepy smile crept up on Max's face.

Justin contemplated the grammar of Max's last statement and decided it was okay. Max was in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. So not what he could go to a fancy restaurant in.

"You have to dress up, Max." Justin said to him like he was a three-year-old.

Max rolled his eyes and shook his head. He went to his room, muttering something about learning to treat him like an adult.

Justin instantly felt a bit guilty. He was telling Max that he could do anything he wanted, yet he was treating him like a kid still. It was hard to see him as the seventeen-year-old man he had become. Sometimes Justin wished that Max was still fourteen and didn't have to worry about being an adult. He briefly considered turning him into a perpetual fourteen-year-old when Max came back out in a light blue tux. He looked . . . stunning in it. Justin had never seen Max in tux before. Where did he even get it from?

Max bashfully stood in front of Justin and dug his toe into the carpet. He no longer looked like a boy, but rather, a man.

Justin stood from the couch, mouth gaping. He was suddenly very underdressed. Justin rocked between his feet, debating on changing his clothes.

"Just use your wand to change. I'm hungry. Well, I'm Max, but I really want some food."

A hesitant laugh escaped from Justin. His clothing melted into a black tux of his own. Dressed the way they were, going to this particular restaurant made Justin feel like he was going on a date.

Together, they walked out the door and caught a taxi. Max rubbed his hands together and blew on them. Winter was always cold in New York. Justin debated on grabbing them to help warm them up.

The ride to Seven Deadly Sins was very quiet. The taxi driver drove a little too fast for Justin's liking. He clutched a hold of his wand and kept an eye on Max, who seemed to be keeping his attention strongly on Justin. That made Justin feel a little awkward.

At the restaurant, the waiter came up and took their order, after Justin had magically placed the Russo name on the reservation list. Justin was actually still looking over the menu, trying to select something that would be impressive when Max spoke up.

"We'll have a sushi appetizer. Then, we'll each have a medium beef wellington for the main course. He'll have white zinfandel wine, and I'll have sparkling water." He shut his menu and handed it over to the waiter, who promptly disappeared.

"Um . . ." Justin was in shock, once again. "Do you know what all that is?"

"Fish in rice, wrapped in seaweed. Beef wrapped in a crust. And a fine wine, according to what I've heard." He raised an eyebrow, then completely closed his eyes. "Mmmm. Mozart's Clarinet Concerto in B Flat." He was referring to the music playing from a nearby stage. He opened his eyes back up and sat up straight.

It was like seeing Max for the first time. Justin couldn't take his eyes off of Max, no matter how hard he tried. All the sounds of music and other patrons of the restaurant fell silent to Justin's ear. The only important thing in the room was Max. He felt himself clinging on to every word that was uttered from the younger boy's mouth as he started to talk about things that Justin never would have thought the boy knew anything about. His eyes were locked so fiercely on Max's that a light shade of red developed on Max's cheeks.

The food was amazing and delicate. Max had to teach Justin how to use chop sticks, so they could eat the sushi correctly. And the beef wellington was amazingly tender. The sweet and bitterness of the wine just tied it all in, being perfect with both of the other courses.

When they finished dining, they walked outside for some time before catching a taxi. Max hooked his arm in Justin's as they walked. It baffled Justin, but he went with it. The moon was full. The night, beautiful. Both boy's breaths were coming out with a puff of white. Was Justin's heart fluttering?

There was a sudden tug at Justin's arm from Max. The younger boy opened the door to an unfamiliar building to Justin. It was toasty warm inside of the building, and it had a smell of fresh-baked cookies to it. Paintings were hung along all the walls and odd sculptures made from all kinds of materials were pedestaled all around.

Max's hand slid down Justin's arm and their fingers locked into each other. And Max was off, tugging Justin to different portraits and talking about them. Some had too much red for what they were trying to do. Others had too little concept. Some had a great point to be made, and Max explained exactly what that point was. As Justin was taken to each painting, he had little clue what they were trying to say. Instead, he found that he was amazed with how much Max said they had to say. After each story, Justin saw the painting in a whole new way. For the first time in his life, he was understanding something abstract like art.

That's when they arrived at the most hideous piece in the room. It was a lot of scrap metal (mostly cans). If Justin had to see it as something other than metal welded together in a strange pattern, he'd have to say it was a fox jumping on a—that part he couldn't make out. When he looked over at Max, though, his chin was bobbing and he was whimpering a bit.

"What's wrong?" Justin asked in a panic.

"Don't you see?" Max asked, not looking back at Justin.

"Um..."

"Oh, Justin! It's such torture. Loving someone you can never have. Being weighed down by them only to die alone." Max wrapped his arms around his older brother and cried into his shoulder.

Man! Where has this Max been?

"Don't worry. You are loved, Max." Justin petted the back of Max's curly head.

"By?"

"Me for one."

"Let's go home."

When they got home, Max headed to his room. "Are you coming back?" Justin called after him.

"No. I want to be alone tonight."

Justin felt a tug at his heart. There was a word for it.

Hurt.