Chapter 7

(Max's P.O.V)

"Don't tell me you're interested in him," I said, my voice low and harsh.

"What?" Max asked,

"Are you interested in Dylan?" I asked, demanding a straight answer.

"No," she said. And I believed her. Until her next sentence, "And even if I was, what's it to you?" I had to hand it to her. She was a world-class actress, but her last sentence was a dead giveaway. She was interested.

"You cannot he interested in Dylan," I spat the last word.

I saw a Hispanic girl shake her head. Ella, Max called her earlier.

"You do not tell Max what to do," I heard her say softly.

Why shouldn't you tell Max what to do? I thought. My question was answered soon.

"5, 4, 3, 2," Ella said as Max's mouth worked without a sound.

"1," Ella said, just as Max said,

"Ex-cuuse, Me," Her voice had shot up an octave or two, but was still pitched just loud enough for only those sitting at our table to hear.

"You cannot like Dylan Tomlinson," I said firmly, my anger rising.

"Oh," she said. "And why is that?" She flipped her voice hair impatiently.

"Because," I trailed off.

How could I tell Max about two years ago, when Dylan, Iggy and I were best friends. How could I tell her about my girlfriend at the time, Chasidy. How could I tell her about how Dylan stole her from me, even he knew I was in love with her. How he got drunk at a party and got in a fight with Chasidy. How she walked home alone that night. How she was gang-raped, then killed. How could I tell Max of that without breaking into tears.

I couldn't. So, I didn't.

"I'm waiting," Max said, impatiently.

"You just can't like him," I answered, finally.

I barely even knew Max, but still some strong protective instinct welled up in me.

"I just can't," she said indignantly. "Where do you get off telling me what I can and can't do?"

I turned away and didn't answer.

"Nicholas Walker, look at me when I'm talking to you!"

I looked at her, and her expression made the side of my mouth twitch. It was angry, yet very cute.

She crossed her arms across her chest.

"Why am I forbidden to- No," she stopped. "You can't forbid me from doing anything. Why don't you want me to be interested in Dylan?"

"I already told you," I said, taking a sip of her flavored water.

She grabbed the water from me. She looked as if she wanted to call me by my full name. apparently, Angel thought so too, because she said,

"His middle name is Micheal, Max."

"Thank you," Max said, her eyes softening as she turned to Angel. They hardened as she refocused on me.

"Nicholas Micheal Walker. I'm going to ask you one more time." Her voice had fallen to deadly tones. "Why shouldn't I like Dylan?"

I still didn't answer as she narrowed her eyes at me.

"You know what?" she said eventually. "You can't dictate to me who I can and cannot like." She took up her book bag, swung it over her shoulder and left.

"Are you going to tell her about Chasidy and Dylan?" Iggy asked.

"No," I answered.

"But she has a right to know," Angel said gently. "You can't just forbid her, or try to forbid her since she said you can't forbid her from doing anything, from liking him without an explanation."

"I don't want her to know about it okay?" I said firmly. "Not yet anyways."

Then the bell rang.

"C'mon," Iggy said. "Music."