Unspoken Part I
A/N: Just a reminder. I have this entire story outlined and plotted. I know how it ends, so please understand that no matter how long it takes for me to update, I am FINISHING this story. That said, I am truly grateful for your patience and support.
Also, update for Part II next week on Sunday :)
Everything was still.
The house was shrouded in a sleepy haze, walls quieter than a whisper in the night. In her dark room, Max sat alone, unable to sleep, her heart heavy. Aching. Time seemed unmoving. Slow. Only the delicate glow of dawn told her how untrue that was.
The first rays of sunlight timidly peered through the curtains, casting a gentle, golden hue that painted the walls with a sense of hope for a better day, but she knew better.
And she wanted to stay away from the day as long as possible. To just lay there and pretend that she was fine. To pretend that she was the only one in the house. That she was safe as long as she stayed in the room. She knew she needed to get up. To at least eat something, and she told herself she would as soon as Neil left to get her mother.
But dawn turned to noon. Noon to evening. Despite the passing time, Max stayed in her room, too afraid to leave. Fierce growls and popping noises churned in her stomach for not having eaten in over 24 hours. But even the pain of hunger couldn't persuade her to move from her bed.
She didn't want to take the risk of feeling unsafe. Of accidentally running into Neil, even though she was sure he was out of the house by now. Memories of the night before flooded her mind. His drunken sway. The fire in his eyes, and the flush of red on his cheeks. That fear she felt as he undid his belt as he approached her, and her having nowhere to go. Billy's words ringing in her ears.
Just because Neil hasn't punched you in the face yet.
And he came so close.
Max slightly turned. She stared at the chair barred under her doorknob. She heard Neil's rattling keys down the hall and the slam of the backdoor some time ago, but she remained stagnant. Every corner of the room seemed to whisper reminders of the night before, casting shadows that mirrored the depths of her remorse.
Billy.
A storm of memories from last night's events flooded Max's brain. Each one was sudden, hitting her like a gust of frigid air, making her wince as the brutal images began to haunt her mind. The sight of Billy hunkering on the floor, his face drawn in pain as the deafening sounds of a thick belt relentlessly lashed at his back. The darkening bruises, embellished by those cruel strikes, left a mark on her consciousness, yet it would not compare to the mental scars he would bear. The mask of muddled torment and rage that Billy gave her nagged at her again and again. Look, it said. Look at what you've done.
The guilt was swallowing her up, like a giant hole had opened in the floor and she was falling into it without any means to stop her descent to the bottom where she'd surely land and burst wide open, every single thought and feeling flayed wide open for all to see. That little voice inside of her was still yelling, You should have done something, Max! Why didn't you do anything? Yet, her own voice of reason knew that deep down Billy didn't want her to, that he was telling her to stay put, but did that also apply to now?
Should I check on him? The question lingered, poking through the images playing out in her mind, battling for dominance and bringing her back to the present.
His face….that look…
Get away from me!
Max slouched, slowly sinking down deeper into her bed. She wrestled with the desire to check on him, yet the fear of confronting the evidence of his pain–the sure blackened bruises–held her back. The internal turmoil tore at her heart, leaving her feeling helpless and unsure of what to do next.
Max thought about the Metallica box hidden under her bed. The weight of guilt pressed upon her chest, suffocating her with each labored breath.
I should have just stayed at the bus stop, she thought. Instead, she had let her excitement—her wanting to see Billy smile, to see him happy—get the better of her. Clenching her bed sheets tightly, Max burrowed herself deeper into her pillow as overwhelming guilt settled in her gut. I should have just stayed—No! I should have never gone.
A lump lodged in her throat, and the more she tried to swallow and make it go away, the more her eyes started to sting. Her hands fisted the blankets, gripping them tight enough to tear in an attempt to push back the tears that were just under the surface.
There was a sudden, jarring knock on the door. Max quickly sat up in her bed. With a mix of anticipation and trepidation, her eyes fixated on the door, her breath held tightly within her chest.
"Max, I'm back! Max? Sweetie, are you up?" a familiar voice called from the other side. The doorknob rattled, and Max let out a sigh of relief, her body relaxing at the comforting sound of her mother's voice.
"Just a second," Max said softly, her voice tinged with a hint of lingering unease.
Max prepared herself, summoning all of her strength to try and uplift her mood, determined to mask any signs of her inner turmoil from her mother. She rose from the bed, removed the chair that had barricaded the door, and unlocked it, revealing her mother standing there with a smile that concealed her confusion.
"Hi, baby. I'm back," her mother repeated, reaching out for a warm embrace.
"Welcome back, Mom." Max returned the embrace. She was rigid as her mother's arms wrapped around her, and Susan's familiar smell washed over her, making the guilt flare like a still-lit ember. She sniffed to try and hold it back before letting herself melt into the hug. Max didn't realize how unsafe she had felt until then. When she went to pull back, Max fought to mask the frown of sadness at the loss of the warmth.
Susan's warm smile began to ebb as she read the look on Max's face, and the little furrow in her mother's brow told Max she hadn't done a good enough job hiding her feelings from her as she thought she had. Susan stared at her for another beat and then glanced at Max's bedroom door as though looking for something before settling back on Max once more. "Sweetie, why was your door locked?"
Max simply shrugged, attempting to brush it off. "Must have forgotten to unlock it. You know how I can get when I'm tired sometimes." When her mother remained silent, a flicker of discomfort passed through Max. She cleared her throat and forced a smile. "How was training?"
Susan's face brightened, and the cheerful demeanor returned. "Oh, it was something! We had drills for potential robberies at The Old National Bank's back entrance. They taught us negotiation tactics and shared some really valuable safety tips..."
Max nodded absently, her mind drifting away from the conversation. It struck her only now–from the way her mother was rambling–that Neil hadn't mentioned her absence at camp to her mother. He couldn't have. But… Why would he keep that from her? If her mother knew she hadn't gone, she certainly wouldn't be wearing such a peppy expression. On top of that, she would have left her training in a heartbeat and rushed back to Hawkins.
The vivid images from the previous night flooded Max's thoughts once more. The chilling sound of Neil's cryptic voice rang in her ears.
This is long overdue.
"...and then they moved on to gun safety and self-defense techniques. Not sure why though since they usually tell us to do what the robber says. Then again, things can always go sideways…" Susan's words trailed off, her expression shifting to concern. "Baby, what's wrong?"
Max fixed herself. She tried to dismiss it with a casual shrug, forcing herself to sound nonchalant. "Nothing, Mom. Just… had a stupid nightmare. Zombies were taking over school and I only had an eraser to fight with…" She looked at the ground as she gave her story, but seeing the surprised look on her mother's face, she gave her a mock smile to try and play off the tension that was making her entire body stiff. Please don't ask any more questions.
Susan clicked her tongue. "Aw…" she rubbed the sides of Max's arms. "Want to talk about it?"
Max shook her head. Susan nodded but caught Max's eye, "Did you girls at camp sneak out and watch one of those horror flicks? It's not good for you to see those kinds of things, sweetheart."
"They aren't so bad..." she said softly. But Susan's raised brow forced Max to go along with her assumption. "Sorry, mom. It was a group thing, and it would have been weird to say no… but like I said. It was just a stupid nightmare. Not a big deal."
Susan sighed, stroking Max's arm again. "Well, come on out and have dinner with us. Neil and I got takeout from Steak and Ale, so I'll join you guys in a second after I put my bags away. I want to hear all about your time at camp," Susan said. Her mother's cheerful words instantly triggered a knot of anxiety in Max's stomach. The mere thought of being in the same room as Neil, let alone sitting just two feet away from him at the same table, sent a wave of discomfort through every bone in her body.
As Susan made her way towards the door, Max grappled with her thoughts, torn between sharing what happened last night with her mother or keeping it buried inside. Memories of her mother's advice echoed in her mind, like a faint plea for admission.
If someone, anyone ever puts their hands on you, Max, I want you to tell me, okay?
"Mom…"
"Hmm?" Susan turned.
Max hesitated, contemplating whether to open up to her. Billy's face would have lingering wounds, without a doubt. If her mom saw Billy now, she'd just think it was another beating. But if Max told her he got those injuries because Billy protected her from Niel, she'd do something about it. She'd have to, right?
But the memory of Neil, the memory of that paralyzing fear that overcame her when he charged towards her gave her pause. And suddenly, the memory began to morph and shape into something far more sinister. Instead of her being locked in place, unable to move from his path, it was her mom. The fake image of her anguish as his hand raised and the belt swinging wide was enough to silence the words on the tip of Max's tongue. The words caught in her throat where she trapped them from ever leaving. "I'll be out in a sec," she finally said, opting to mask her inner turmoil, cursing herself for keeping it locked away and unspoken.
With a brief nod, Susan exited the room, cracked the door ajar, and disappeared down the hall, leaving Max alone. She stood there for a moment and stared at the crack in the door, wondering what she might face when she left to join them for dinner. With a deep exhale, she turned to her bed, crouching down to snake her arm just under the left side to pull the dented box out. It was still in the same crumpled shape from the night before and light as she lifted it in her hand, but the weight of it—the meaning of it—was like holding a bowling ball in her hands. One made of regret. She tugged off the lid and looked blankly at the tickets; Metallica Ride the Lightning February 11, 1985.
Max squeezed her eyes shut, unable to see anything other than what the tickets cost her—no, cost Billy—and secured the lid again. She started to put it back under her bed, but then her eyes stopped at the crack in the bedroom door. It was a risk to leave the box in such an easy hiding spot. Especially if Niel had decided he still wanted to know what it was and came looking. She moved quickly to her closet, knowing she didn't have a lot of time to pick something. She shoved the old boxes of stuffed animals and memorabilia that she'd never unpacked as far left as she could, just so the box could slide in right behind them. She stepped back to analyze the choice, wondering if Neil, or anyone else, would be able to tell something was back there. Feeling a bit of the tension ease from her chest, she shut the door and tried to forget the tickets existed, even if just for a moment.
As she came out of her room, Billy slipped out of his. She froze.
Billy's swollen face looked like an old peach dropped in a supermarket — bruised, battered, and blemished with deep reds and purples. He bore a mark on his cheekbone, a busted lip, and day-old injuries and blackened bruises that spoke volumes to the beating he endured the night before. Max's heart sank as she took in all of the marks. And tears threatened to return when she saw his somber expression. This is what she'd feared to see. This was why she wanted to stay in her room. One reason at least.
If only I could have done something. If only I could have helped… If only I wasn't so powerless.
Billy gave her the briefest glance before turning away. As they crossed paths in the hallway—her making her way to the dining room, him making his way to the bathroom—Max mustered the courage to speak.
"Billy," she softly called out, her voice laced with concern and remorse.
But Billy said nothing. Instead, he just walked right past her, his gaze fixed straight ahead, deliberately ignoring her being there. He didn't even spare her a glance, treating her as if she were nothing more than mere wallpaper, blending into the mundane backdrop of his life. The weight of her guilt grew heavier, knowing that her attempt to reach out was met with indifference. But she just decided to give him some space. He deserved that much at least.
Max slowly made her way to the living room, hoping not to see Neil, at least not until her mom was there. But as soon as she stepped into the room, she froze, lips slightly parting.
It was a sight. She almost couldn't believe her eyes and her hands raised to rub at them until spots appeared. She blinked them away and swallowed that lump that was still living in her throat before looking around in utter disbelief.
Everything was clean. The broken picture frame. The fallen items over the fireplace. The empty beer cans…even some of the drops of blood left on the floor from Billy were wiped clean.
No way her mom did this as soon as she got her. The way she was cheerful… Someone else must have.
Max continued to the dining room, her footsteps slowing when she heard rummaging. She froze at the entrance to the dining room, breath tightening. Neil was standing at the table taking the food out of a white Steak and Ale bag. Styrofoam to-go box in hand, he plopped right down in his usual spot.
Slowly, she stepped back, out of Neil's sight. Her breathing quickened, close to hyperventilating. Should she go in and sit? Turn and go back to her room? Wait for her mom?
A gush of air zipped past her. Max turned to look just as Billy brushed past her, so fast that a few of her wild curls whipped right into her line of sight. On instinct, she took a step forward to try and get a better look at his face, but it was the downturned sullen expression he wore outwardly that seemed to match the one she felt internally. But more than that, he plopped down next to Neil in his usual exasperated way without a second thought, and it propelled her to do the same, albeit shaking when he was still.
Something about his lack of hesitation made her feel just a bit safer. Billy made her feel safer.
Max walked in, cautious, never turning her back to him. Neil only glanced and then went back to unboxing his food. She sat across from him where her mother usually sat; she didn't want to be beside him.
Billy moved to reach the plastic bag on the table and froze just as his fingertips brushed the opening. Her eyes went back to his face where his jaw was suddenly tight. His eyes twitched, making his lip curl into a grimace of pain. A wince. She couldn't help but wonder if it was his back that was hurt, or perhaps his ribs, maybe his arm? He pushed through the motions, but the hunched-over position as he started to eat made it obvious he was hurting everywhere. The way he just walked in without a second thought to sit next to Neil, like yesterday never happened, astounded her. She knew it shouldn't have. He'd done so plenty of times after a beating, but after one like this?
Still, Billy didn't bother even looking in Neil's direction. Instead, his dad glanced up at him, doing a double take. His fork hovered over his steak as he froze, eyeing Billy with wrinkled brows. With robotic movements, Max reached for the bag to grab food for herself, starved, yet her eyes continued to bounce between Neil and Billy. Even as she funneled bites into her mouth where she chewed and swallowed without even tasting it, her eyes never left them for long, as though she was watching for the moment when all hell would break loose. Neil never looked in her direction, just stared at Billy with this bewildered, curious look in his eyes, like he was staring at a rare exotic forest animal.
"What the hell happened to you?"
Billy halted his movements, a stunned look in his eyes, only for a second. Max too. Despite her fear, she stopped mid-bite and looked at Neil, taken aback by the outrageous question.
Billy slowly turned to him, his face contorting into a mask of anger. His brows furrowed intensely, and his eyes narrowed into fiery slits.
"What, you get jumped going to pick her up, or did you start the fight?" Neil continued. Billy just gave him a stern look.
Is he serious? Max thought.
Neil looked between the two as he chewed. "What, am I talking to myself? Why are you two looking at me like I got shit on my face? Did you get in a fight or not?"
The muscles in Billy's cheek bulged with tension as he clamped down, sealing his mouth shut so tightly that his lips thinned and the vein on his temple began to pulse. For a second she thought he might have stopped breathing until he spoke through gritted teeth as though it pained him to say anything at all.
"Yes," he managed to spit out, his voice a low growl. "Something like that."
His dad didn't even flinch at the obvious growl in his son's voice. Instead, he scoffed. "Well, did you win?"
Max blinked, her eyes wide. She turned to Billy as if to say, Can you believe this? But she quickly stopped, shuddering in horror as she watched him. A deep, crimson flush spread across Billy's cheeks, accentuating the growing wrath within him. The corners of his lips tightened, and his jaw clenched, revealing the tense muscles beneath his skin. His nostrils flared with each sharp breath he took. It was as if the very essence of rage was sculpting his features, transforming his once calm demeanor into an unmistakable display of fury.
Billy's lips pursed together in a hard line. "No."
"So you got your ass kicked?" Neil shook his head as he looked down at his plate, stabbing another piece of steak. "Pussy. Next time, give him what for. If you're going to start something, be damn sure you can end it."
Billy just stared at him, his lips scrunched. The veins on his forehead were like raised ridges, pulsating.
Max was aghast. What the hell did this mean? That he had no memory of last night?! That Niel had no memory of beating the ever-living shit out of his own son?! How could he forget something like that? How could he forget something so god damned important?! So goddamned awful?!
Deep down, Neil had to know he caused this. He just had to! Right?
She felt a singe of anger try to ignite inside her, but when she saw Billy, some of it ebbed. His anger was plain on his face. She couldn't quite distinguish the hint of something else in his eyes. His eyes were searching for something on Neil's face, flicking back and forth, trying to see something Max didn't understand. It was as though Billy could see that Neil had grown another head because Billy's face began to stutter, and some of that anger shifted into what looked like shock, if the paleness of his face was any indication. But just as quickly, the anger was back even stronger than before. His nostrils flared and his fists clenched there on the table.
Max's mind wandered, trying to grasp the situation. If Neil didn't remember attacking Billy…then did that mean he didn't remember her coming home late? She shoveled another bite of food into her mouth to keep the gasp that almost slipped out, silent. She stared at the corn on her plate so intensely, it began to blur while she chewed and chewed. Her shoulders slumped slightly as she processed the thought. Neil doesn't remember any of it?
No wonder Billy was so livid.
Still, a part of her was slightly relieved he didn't remember her coming home last night, but the thought of Neil not remembering what awful pain he brought to Billy made her want to spit her food at him, made her want to throw her plate right at his head to jog his memory. To make him feel bad, even though that was hardly likely. But she wanted him to feel something, to feel the pain he caused Billy. To show him what he put Billy through.
Then, a thought cut through all the others.
Could this be why Neil didn't tell her mom about camp? That he'd caught her sneaking back into the house? But the beer cans….they had littered the ground in a way that she hadn't processed at the time, but now… she was sure there had been more than ten. Did he not say anything because he had been so drunk that he didn't remember? He couldn't say anything if his memories weren't actually there…right? But no. He could have told her mom over the phone, before ever picking up a beer. Unless of course…he'd wanted Max alone? She shuddered at the thought. Because she knew just as well as he did that if he'd called Susan, she would have been back on the next travel bus back to Hawkins. It just didn't make sense….
Neil continued to eat, but Billy never took his eyes off him, a hard stare. And it seemed like he'd be that way forever. Like he was willing—no—daring his father to look at him. Look at me!
Max jumped at the blaring sound of the phone ringing. But no one in the dining room moved to answer it. Just as soon as it started, it stopped. Down the hall, she could hear her mom's muffled voice.
"Hello, Hargrove's residence. may I ask who's calling?" There was a pause. "A friend? Oh, you want to speak to Billy? We're about to have dinner right now, so I could have him call you later–Oh, OK. Well uh… just a moment…"
The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. Susan called out, "Billy, there's a Wendy calling for you."
Neil and Billy sat up at attention.
Wendy? Max thought, wondering if it was one of the girls from school. But then, why was Neil suddenly on high alert?
Neil perked up, threw his fork down, and quickly stood from the table, calling "We got it" back to Susan. Max saw Billy peering up at him, watching him leave. A knowing in his eyes. Only then did Billy finally look back down towards his food, eyes still burning with fury.
Neil took long strides into the kitchen and picked up the phone, speaking in hushed tones. "How did you get this number?" His voice was harsh. Curious, Max leaned slightly to peer into the kitchen. Neil had a hard expression, his lips pressed into a hard line under his mustache. "I don't care. Don't call here again." Neil slammed the phone on the hook. Max quickly turned back to the table as he quickly returned and plopped down with a huff.
They sat in silence a bit. Nothing but the sound of Neil's chewing and the creek of styrofoam boxes.
Max glanced at Billy again and startled slightly to see he was still staring at the phone, his bottom lip trapped in between his teeth as though he was punishing it for something. His brow was furrowed, and Max couldn't be sure, but it seemed like longing in his eyes. He peeled his eyes away slowly and kept his head down, not sparing another glance towards Neil as he ate, even though Neil threw curious glances at him occasionally like he was waiting for him to say something.
The tension and awkwardness, the air of secrecy so palpable, left her to question, Who is Wendy?
Finally, Susan came into the room, a slight bounce in her step. "Who was that on the phone? Someone from school?" she said as she put something away in the cabinets.
"It's nobody," Neil said."Just wanted to sell something stupid. If she calls again, hang up."
With a shrug, Susan gathered the loose bags on the table and went to the trash. As soon as she opened it, she gasped. "Oh! Thanks for taking the trash out, Billy."
Neil cleared his throat abruptly, making Susan spin and stare at him in confusion. "I took it out," he mumbled, throwing Billy an accusing look before turning back to her. She sucked in a breath, the shock never leaving her face.
"Y-you took it out?"
He shrugged. "Yeah."
Susan beamed. "Oh, honey! Thank you."
Max scrunched up her brow. Not just from her mom's over-the-top outburst, but that Neil had done a chore. As though this "dinner" couldn't get any more surprising. Neil never helped clean. Never even bothered to rinse out his own plate. So what the hell prompted him to take out the garbage himself?
The sound of a heated sigh grabbed Max's attention. Her head snapped to Billy and then to Neil who looked as though he hadn't heard the very audible noise. Billy's knuckles popped as he tightened his grip on the fork so hard, it started bending. He bore down at the plate as though he could burn a hole into the middle of it. His chest moved faster as his breathing escalated as though something was about to break out of his chest and lash out at any moment.
Susan walked to the table, ready to give Neil a peck on the cheek, but as soon as she turned, she gasped again, this time covering her mouth. She looked straight at Billy for a beat too long, taking in his battered appearance. Then turned to Neil. It wasn't hard to imagine what was going through her head. Max just knew by the way her mother was staring at Neil with wide eyes that she was assuming Neil had beaten him again. Her hand trembled and her eyes were glossy. She was frozen, and Max's earlier image came back at full speed. She would do something, right?
Neil glanced at her, giving a bored look before nodding in Billy's direction. "Don't worry about him," he said casually. "He's OK. Just got into a brawl and got his ass kicked on his way to pick up Maxine."
"Today?!"
"Apparently."
She looked to Max for reassurance. But she could give her none. In fact, Max wasn't sure what her expression was conveying at the moment. All she knew was that a storm of emotions was swarming inside of her and at the table. There was a thick tension in the air, swirling around them now. No one said anything—and no one moved apart from Neil. Max felt the urge to twitch uncomfortably, and Billy still hadn't stopped glaring at this plate. Max couldn't help but feel like dinner was just a ticking time bomb. And they were all about to get caught in the explosion.
Susan looked Max up and down, no doubt scanning her body for possible injuries judging by the slight worry and panic in her eyes. But it was what she did next that made Max's blood boil.
Susan sighed, a wave of relief reflecting in her sinking shoulders. It was a visible relief that Max was seeing come over her Mother. Her mom was glad that it wasn't Neil, or she seemed to believe and accept his words as truth.
But Billy was fuming. He was back to glowering at his dad. As his lips pressed together in a thin line, another vein pulsed visibly on his forehead, almost as if it were trying to contain the rising storm of fury within him. The transformation was palpable, and the air around him seemed to crackle with the electric charge of his boiling emotions.
Any closer, she could get zapped. Max leaned back.
Susan gave Billy a sympathetic expression. "Oh, that looks bad. Just a second…" She quickly went to the freezer, and Max was surprised when she pulled out a bag of peas. She stared at her mom in awe, but something stirred in her. She tried to analyze the concerned expression that seemed stuck on her mom's face, causing a permanent frown. Max had never seen her do something like this before, at least not when she was around. So why, when she thought Billy was jumped by others, did she show this kind of care, but when it came to Neil, she didn't? Was it fear of what he might do? Maybe she thought he'd see it as a rejection of his methods. A blatant act of disrespect for how he disciplined his child. As though she was siding with Billy by nurturing him as a mother would…
Like you all are turning against me…
Susan circled the table over to Billy and raised the bag of peas. "Here. This will help the swelling a little."
She went to place the bag on his cheek, but Billy snatched himself away. He swiveled his head and shot a daggering look at her, his eyes piercing like he'd hurt her—like he wanted nothing more than to choke the life out of her. Susan quickly pulled back and backed off.
"Hey," Neil barked, "Don't take it out on her just because someone else decided to teach you a little bit about respect. It's not her fault you got your ass handed to you."
Billy was breathing loudly now, heavy, nostrils flared like a bull. His plastic fork bent in half. And like that, the thread snapped.
Billy slammed his hands down, causing Max and her mother to jump. He shoved himself from the table with a loud screech, throwing his fork down before shooting up and storming down the hall. Slamming his door so hard, a picture frame fell off the wall.
Max waited for Neil to react the way he always did, to blow past talking and go straight to discipline. To the belt. Instead, he just watched Billy go with that bland, bored look.
Susan still stood. Frozen. Hands up on her chest as though keeping her heart in place. She looked at Neil, almost expecting the same as Max. But when she saw him do nothing, she opened her mouth to say something, but Neil was quicker.
"Just leave him alone. Let him sulk."
Susan nodded, put the peas away, and joined the two at the table. Max was still more tense than ever, even with Billy gone. Her protection, gone. She wished she could have stormed out with him. Maybe it wasn't too late.
"So, Max…" Susan said after a long stretch of silence. "How was camp?" Her peppiness was dimmed. Almost forced now. But like Max, she probably couldn't handle the silence.
Max turned to her and swallowed, then glanced at Neil. He was looking down at his food, paying no attention to her as he vigorously chewed his steak. Nothing different he did whenever her mom asked about school, or the arcade, or whatever. No interest at all.
Max relaxed. But only slightly.
"Um, well it… it was… ok. Um…" Max quickly thought of what to say. She saw somewhere once that whenever telling a lie, to mix truth with it if you ever wanted it to sound believable. "The place was really huge, and there were a ton of other kids there."
"Oh, really? What did you do?"
"We–" she paused when she saw Neil looking up at her from under his lids, suddenly attentive. Max stared only briefly, then turned back to her mom. "We… We played a lot of games. It got a little heated for some people. Coaches had to kick some people out because of… you know, just some arguments getting heated." Max didn't want to say "fight" because she knew her mom would get squeamish and her worry mode would increase. Susan frowned again and opened her mouth to interject, but Max saw the opportunity to quickly change the subject before she could force her to explain further. "The dorm rooms were nice too. A lot more spacious than I thought. And some of the girls were pretty cool. I got to spend some time with them. You know, before Billy came and got me."
She glanced at Billy's empty chair, feeling just a bit thankful that he'd left the room. She could only imagine the way he'd be shaking with rage after hearing her lies. The lies that had gotten him beaten once again.
"What exactly did they teach you?"
Max jumped as she was yanked from her thoughts by Neil's gruff voice. She looked over at him and startled a bit, leaning back into her chair to see his fixed expression on her face. He was no longer chewing his food. Instead, his arms were folded in front of him as he stared and waited for her to explain. Does he really not remember anything?
"W-What?" Max asked, still surprised by the sudden shift in conversation, that Neil asked her anything.
"Your volleyball coaches. What did they teach you? I'm sure you had to go through some type of drills before they threw you into a game."
Max was taken aback by the question. She was trying to avoid being specific. She dug deep into her memory of when she played volleyball so long ago and blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Digs," she finally said. "We had to kind of throw ourselves on the ground to get the ball. They had us practice setting and serves with a partner too. Other stuff of course, but, such a short time, we didn't get into too much."
Neil observed Max the entire time, nodding slowly as he listened intently.
Feeling awkward. Max changed the subject again. "Honestly, I feel like they were going easy on some of us with training. But Mom's training probably went a lot better than ours…Oh, by the way, mom, about your training…"
"Yeah, what about it?" Susan had just opened up her food.
"Since you just got back today, does this still mean you have to go to work tomorrow?"
"Well, yes, a half day but–Oh!" Susan quickly put her fork down, remembering something. "I'm glad you said something. Neil, the bank is having an office party for New Year's tomorrow late at 10, and they want us to bring someone. There'll be food and a firework show. The whole shebang, no pun intended." She chuckled to herself, then cleared her throat.
New Year's Eve? Max forgot about that. With all that was going on…
"You think you can go? You don't work that night, right?"
Neil shrugged. "Not working, so… I'll think about it."
Susan smiled. "Max, you think you and Billy want to come too? Make it a family thing?"
A family thing… Max swallowed her last bite of green beans and tried not to grimace as the taste went bad in her mouth. She needed to talk to Billy somehow… and being stuck at an event like that would make it impossible. She didn't want to waste any more time before trying to explain things to him… or apologize. "No, I'll just stay here."
Susan looked dejected, almost helpless. Knowing her mom, Max knew she wouldn't want her to be alone during the holidays, and the look in her eyes only conveyed that. She tilted her head and her forlorn expression turned to that of the worry Max read on her face earlier in her room. Max tried to give her a reassuring smile, and thankfully Susan nodded. "Oh, that's ok. But… you sure you want to be home alone during the new year? I don't have to go," she said.
"Don't be ridiculous," Neil said, making them both look in his direction. He huffed under the sudden attention on his face and waved his fork in Max's direction. "You should go to your party even if she doesn't. Besides, Billy will be here with her." He sniffed, and when Susan's shoulders slumped, he rolled his eyes, then turned to Max with that scrutinizing gaze. "You haven't hung out with your friends in a while right, Maxine? Maybe you should do that."
Max's mouth opened, but no words came out, only a small gust of air as the breath wooshed out of her. She knew her eyes must have been wide because he raised a brow in question. She blinked before shaking her head to let the shock of hearing those words settle. Not in a million years did she ever think he'd make that suggestion, let alone now, especially since he was the reason she couldn't hang out with them in the first place.
"That's Ok," Max said. "They'll be busy with family that day." She didn't know that for a fact. In fact, she was sure they'd gather together and probably make their own fireworks to pop off, and they'd gladly let her join. But they'd probably want updates on her situation with the arcade tournament. And Lucas especially would want to know how her attempt at getting the tickets for Billy went, and she wasn't sure she could tell them the truth about what happened the night before. At least, not yet.
"Then maybe you should call them up today. Go downtown or to a movie or something. Billy could take you." The words rolled off his tongue as though he'd said them a million times. He looked back down at his food and began to eat again as though there was no more to be said.
Max couldn't look away. She blinked, and then blinked some more as though Neil making these suggestions was a mirage that would disappear after a few more moments. She couldn't wrap her head around his insistence on being with her friends, especially when he was the one that typically tried to find reasons for her to stay away from them. But her thoughts quickly veered as she tried to picture Billy being forced to walk her to the bus stop. After last night, it made her stomach twist uncomfortably. His outburst at the table was only a glimpse into the rage that must be brewing inside him—he wouldn't want to take her anywhere.
"It's a little late, isn't it? The buses will stop running in a few hours," Susan said, her fork still frozen in midair from where she'd paused eating at his suggestion for Max to go out with friends.
"Then I'll let him use the car."
Susan looked at Max and swallowed roughly before shaking her head as though she hadn't heard correctly. Max could only stare with her, mouth still hanging open and her food untouched. She broke her mom's gaze and looked back to Neil, who hadn't bothered to look up from his food to gauge their reactions.
"The car?" Susan simply said with an incredulous, doubtful look that quickly replaced with a cautious smile. Billy nearly got beaten for using the car. What the hell is happening right now?
"That's what I said. And if she can't hang out with her friends tomorrow night, then Billy can take her somewhere then too. They can go to the downtown firework show for New Year's or something. As long as it's only for that day."
Max pushed her food away and blinked in utter shock, unable to comprehend what she was hearing but no longer able to stomach the idea of eating. At the very least, Max was expecting Neil to extend Billy's punishment or give him another on top of his car being taken away. But to say she was surprised he offered his car back would be an understatement of the century. She was floored, but more than that, the growing pinch in her insides made her wonder if she was missing something entirely.
What the hell is going on? Who is this man?
This was not Neil. At least not the Neil she knew. Sure as hell not the one that would go against his strict principles. Against the punishment he set for Billy, even if temporarily. Max couldn't help but think that maybe a part of him knew deep down that he gave Billy those bruises. If only Billy was still here to get a load of this shit, she thought. To witness this unexpected behavior from Neil. She could almost imagine the expression on Billy's face, probably shouting "Bullshit!" in disbelief, but she knew Neil never bullshitted. When it came to shelling out discipline and giving out commands, his word was always final.
"Actually, since you mentioned spending time as a family, why don't we spend New Year's Day together?" When no one spoke he cleared his throat again and continued anyway. "You know, we could rent a movie and order in," he said. "What was that one you wanted to see? The one with the candles?"
"Oh, Sixteen Candles," Susan said as she slowly continued eating, her eyes going to Max every few seconds as though she wondered what was happening as well.
"Right, or maybe action or a thriller. The Hit maybe…"
The Retrievers.
Ghostbusters.
First Blood.
Max had no idea how Neil of all people knew so many movies–knew to even suggest them or what they might be about. He'd circled back to explaining the synopsis of The Retrievers to her mother as though it was a normal day and a normal conversation. She considered again what might happen if she threw her food at him. Would he actually react? This version of the man before her was strange, and she found herself analyzing him like Billy had before, searching for the possible second head he'd grown overnight. Because this was far from normal.
"I didn't think you'd be interested in those kinds of movies," her mom said, a bewildered look on her face. "I didn't think you liked Planes, honey." She gave a mock laugh before silencing herself with another bite. Obviously, she found this Neil odd too.
"I'm not. Not particularly. But I figured Billy and Max might like something with a bit of action. Right, Maxine?"
She stared, unable to get her tongue to peel away from where it was stuck on the roof of her mouth.
"Something like Indiana Jones, The Terminator, or Mad Max…"
Max's heart stopped. Neil held her gaze for a beat too long before turning back to Susan to continue listing movies. It was over in a blip—that moment of heaviness that passed between them. It was as if nothing happened. Had she imagined it? Her mom hadn't even looked at her again when he paused, but his look was so striking. She stared at him, the subtle redness in his face, and the way his mustache moved as he rambled. Her heart began to beat like thunder inside her chest as her mind flickered back and forth over the twister of emotions inside of her: anger, fear, confusion… and understanding. She fisted her fork just as Billy had, the urge to bend it and storm out oh-so-tempting.
It slammed into her then. The weight of the truth as it settled in, making her slump back into her chair, defeated. That familiar unwanted burning in the back of her eyes made her squeeze them shut as she placed the pieces together at last. Billy's anger… Neil's cryptic questions about camp… and Mad Max. At that moment, it became clear to her. Clearer than the stench of alcohol on Neils's breath the previous night.
He remembered everything.
To be continued...