Mike looked up at the sky as he approached the station wagon with his duffle bag in hand. It was a beautiful spring day, the sun was shining and there was a warm breeze ruffling the newly sprouted leaves on the trees. It was so warm in fact, that he took off his denim jacket, deciding he would be comfortable enough in his Star Wars t-shirt and denim shorts. He tossed the bag and jacket in the back seat of the car and jogged back up the driveway to say goodbye to his parents.
"Have fun, honey," his mom said as she enveloped him in a too-tight hug. "Be good to Lucas's family." Mike cringed inwardly at the lie he'd had to tell his parents to let him go to Indianapolis overnight, having told them he was going to a comic book convention with the guys and staying at Lucas's aunt and uncle's house.
"You packed the tire pressure gauge and made sure the flashlight has batteries?" his dad asked as Mike extricated himself from his mother's arms.
"Yes, Dad," Mike nodded. "And I have the map, and I'll make sure to gas the car up before I get home."
"Good boy," his dad replied gruffly, giving Mike a pat on the shoulder—an impressive display of physical affection for Ted Wheeler.
"Alright," Mike said, clapping his hands together. "I'm gonna get going… gotta pick up the guys." He turned and made his way back towards the car.
"Bye, honey!" his mom called out again as he got in the front seat and started the engine. "Drive safe!" Mike gave his parents one more wave before backing out of the driveway, turning left at the stop sign towards Forest Hills Trailer Park instead of right towards the Sinclairs.
Max was waiting on the front steps of her trailer when he pulled up, smiling widely when she spotted him and bouncing over before he even came to a complete stop. She leaned down to the open window on the driver's side and slid her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose.
"Lookin' for a good time, sugar?" she drawled in a fake breathy voice.
Mike rolled his eyes. "Get your ass in the car, Mayfield." He glanced over at the Munson trailer, the remaining scraps of yellow police tape flapping uselessly in the breeze. Dustin had cautiously approached him at school earlier in the week to let him know that they'd scraped together some cash and dropped Eddie off at the bus station in Chicago. Eddie had a cousin in Florida who would let him lay low there until there were any new developments in the case.
Max tossed her overstuffed blue duffel bag in the back and slid into the passenger seat before hauling her school backpack onto her lap.
"So, music," she started, pulling out several cassette cases. "We're obviously starting with Psychocandy, then I thought we could keep it in the UK and do some Bowie, then get the energy up with some Billy Idol and th-"
"Dude, relax," Mike chuckled, "I trust your music taste. Plus, it's only a three-hour drive, I don't think you'll need all of those." Max wrinkled her nose.
"I wanted to have options," she said as she popped the JAMC cassette into the tape deck and cranked the volume up. "Let's get this show on the damn road, Wheeler!"
"Check it out, Indianapolis, 150 miles!" Max exclaimed an hour later as they cruised down the I-69. She had the window rolled all the way down, the roar of the wind and busy highway competing with the music that was blasting through the speakers. They'd decided to swap sunglasses for no particular reason, Mike wearing her red knockoff Ray Bans, while she had his silver framed aviators perched low on her nose as they sang along to "China Girl" by David Bowie.
He glanced over at the sign and then at Max, who was leaning on the passenger door with her arm out the window, letting her hand "surf" over the wind that was howling past the window and blowing her loose red tresses behind her wildly.
She looked back at him, flashing him a contented smile just as the sunlight behind her illuminated her hair like a halo. Time seemed to freeze for a second and Mike felt his stomach do an unfamiliar flip-flop as he was suddenly struck with the thought that Max looked… really beautiful. How had he never noticed how long her pale, golden eyelashes were? He swallowed and quickly looked back at the road, jerking the wheel to the right when he realized he'd started to drift out of his lane.
"Woah, Wheeler, eyes on the road," she teased. Mike let out a nervous high pitched laugh and snuck another glance at her out of the corner of his eye. He'd never had that kind of reaction to her before. Well, except when she was changing in his room after the party but that was just because she was a girl, not specifically because it was her… right? It had better be, because the last time I felt something like this was when I saw El in that blonde wig for the first time, he worriedly thought to himself. His hands suddenly felt clammy, and he realized he was barely paying attention to the road again when a pickup truck honked as it passed him in the right lane.
"Hey look, a gas station!" Mike exclaimed when he saw the sign for the exit come up. "We should get snacks!"
While Max was filling her arms with bags of chips and beef jerky, Mike went to the restroom to calm himself down. The tiny room was as disgusting as he'd expected, mysterious stains covering the walls and floor and a sad roll of single-ply toilet paper sitting on the toilet tank. The tap sputtered as he turned it on, and he splashed his face with cold water before bracing himself against the edge of the sink and glaring at himself in the cracked mirror.
"Stop checking out your friend, you fucking perv," he instructed his reflection. Surely it was just a momentary lapse. The light had hit her at a particularly flattering angle and caused her to look like some kind of angel- "Nope," he said out loud, shaking his head. "Not thinking about it."
Walking back into the store he saw that Max was nowhere to be found, so he made his way back to the car, lowering her sunglasses back down onto his face as the late afternoon sun hit his eyes.
The sight that greeted him made his chest tighten in a way that was markedly different from the anxiety he occasionally experienced. Max had taken out the state map and spread it over the hood of the station wagon, leaning over as she examined it closely, her cut-off denim shorts not leaving much to the imagination at all. Don't you dare look at her ass, you sicko, he thought to himself, staring pointedly at the cornfield on the other side of the highway as he approached her.
"So we just stay on the 69 until we get to the 465 West and then we take that until… Exit 17," she said, squinting closely at the tiny print on the map and tracing their route with her finger. Mike nodded wordlessly as he got in the car and Max looked up at him sharply, aviators perched low on her nose. She flashed him a bright smile through the windshield that made his heart clench and started to fold the map back up. At least she tried to, as she struggled to figure out the direction of the pre-existing folds, eventually giving up and folding it carelessly before climbing back into the passenger seat and shoving the map into the glove compartment.
"Jerky?" she asked, holding out the already opened bag.
A while later as they were singing along to Billy Idol, Mike had all but forgotten his earlier feelings when he saw Max shuffling around in his periphery. She adjusted the angle of the seat and leaned back before throwing her sneaker-clad feet up on the dash and taking a long sip of her bottled iced tea, her tongue flicking out to catch a stray droplet on her bottom lip.
He gulped as his gaze travelled the length of her pale, bare legs, feeling an unmistakable pang of arousal below his belly button, like the snap of a rubber band. This could not be happening. It was Max for fucks sake—up until recently, they'd barely tolerated each other. And now she was arguably his best friend. He was just having some horny teenage boy crisis that was clouding his judgement, he reasoned. She just happened to be the first girl he saw. He probably just needed to jerk off and then he'd be clear-headed and completely over it.
As the sun continued to sink towards the horizon the houses started to become denser, farmland slowly turning into suburb as they approached Indianapolis, and soon they could see the few tall buildings of downtown on the skyline.
"Alright, we should be approaching the exit for the interstate soon," Max said, squinting at the map and peering up at the signage.
"You said I-456 right?" Mike asked, eyes constantly flicking between his side and rearview mirrors. He was tense. He'd never driven in a large city before, and these interchanges were considerably busier than the one or two-lane streets of Hawkins.
"Yeah…" she nodded, tracing her finger over the map. "Oh shit no, it's 465!" she exclaimed, looking up in alarm. "It's this one right here!"
"Fuck," Mike swore under his breath as he jerked the wheel to the right, just barely making the exit in time and earning an angry honk from the semi-truck he'd just cut off. He gave a wave of apology through the back window, feeling the adrenaline pump through him at the close call.
"You could've given me a little bit more warning, dude," he grumbled as he looked over his left shoulder and merged onto the freeway.
Max winced. "Sorry! I promise I'm on it now."
"It's fine," he reassured her, giving her an apologetic smile. "How long am I on here for?"
"I don't know," she said as she frowned back down at the map. "How are you supposed to use this scale?"
Mike sighed. "It's fine, I'll just stay in the right lane."
Max nodded absentmindedly as she squinted at the page. "What's the intersection the club is on again?"
"34th and College, Max," he groaned. "You're killing me, dude, you're supposed to know that!"
"I'm sorry, I'm not good at reading maps, apparently!" Max cried, unsuccessfully trying to hold back her laughter at the debacle. "Jeez Wheeler, don't have a cow, we'll get there." Mike rolled his eyes and chose to remain silent, biting back a small smile as he was reminded of what a pain in his ass she could be.
"Okay it's the next exit," she said confidently after around fifteen minutes of driving.
"Are you sure about that?" Mike asked, glancing over at her with a raised eyebrow. Max threw him an unimpressed look in return.
"Yes I am sure," she shot back. "Next exit, Wheeler." He got in the exit lane and Max continued to direct him through the busy city streets. Razz-Ma-Tazz was located west of downtown, an area that was popular with Indiana University students. They decided to stop at the first motel they saw, not wanting to drive in circles in rush hour traffic any longer than they had to, especially since sunset was rapidly approaching, glowing orange over the city streets.
The High Country Inn looked like a standard cheap motel that had seen better days, the faded brown paint on the siding was peeling off in places and the partially illuminated neon "Vacancy" sign flickered erratically. Mike pulled into the pothole-covered parking lot, weeds growing out of the cracks riddling the pavement and scattered litter rolling around in the wind.
They shouldered their backpacks and made their way inside, the rusted screen door creaking on its hinges as it swung open. The smell of stale coffee and bleach permeated the air while an old radio in the corner played a staticky Sinatra song. A kind-looking old woman looked up as they approached the front desk.
"Hello dears, what can I do for you?" the woman asked.
"Uh, we need a room for the night," Mike said in what he hoped was a confident tone, subtly deepening his voice in an attempt at sounding older. "Two beds, please," he added. The woman clicked her tongue as she ran her finger down the book on the desk in front of her.
"We do have available rooms but we only have singles left. One queen bed." Mike felt his cheeks flush at the thought of sharing a bed with Max, and he opened his mouth to let her know they'd just look elsewhere.
"That's fine!" Max piped up from beside him. He glanced down at her sharply, shocked by how readily she agreed. She looked up at him and widened her eyes, suddenly looking embarrassed. "I mean if you're cool with it," she said quickly, looking down at her shoes. Mike shook his head.
"No that-that's fine. I'm cool with it. Super cool," he stuttered, even though he was rattled by the situation. He looked back at the woman. "We'll take the room." She smiled and took his information down in the book and he handed over a handful of bills to pay for the night.
"Checkout is at noon," she said as she handed over a key with 112 on the tag. "Turn left out the door and head all the way down to the end." Mike thanked her as he grabbed the key, avoiding eye contact with Max as they made their way to the car to grab their bags and head to the room. The room in which they'd be sharing a bed. Kill me now, he thought to himself.
Mike felt his hand shake slightly as he turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. The small room was dark and outdated but smelled surprisingly clean. It clearly hadn't been updated since the early 70s, sporting faded brown wallpaper, worn-out maroon carpeting, a round wooden table with a single chair, a dresser that held a tiny television set, and a queen-sized bed covered in a mustard yellow floral duvet.
He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room staring at the bed as if it was going to jump up and attack him. Max, meanwhile, appeared to have no such qualms as she tossed her backpack and duffle onto the left side of the bed before taking a seat on it herself like it was no big deal.
"Sorry, did you want this side?" she asked, brow furrowing in concern at his lack of movement.
"What?" He snapped out of his paralysis and shook his head quickly. "Uh, no, go ahead." God this was weird, why wasn't she acting like this was weird?
Max glanced at her watch. "Doors for the concert open at nine. There's a pizza place next door, do you wanna just stop there?" Mike nodded, relieved they wouldn't just be sitting in the room alone for two more hours.
After they'd each smoked a cigarette and wolfed down a greasy slice of mediocre pepperoni pizza, they went back to the motel to start getting ready for the concert. Well, Max started getting ready, shutting herself in the bathroom with her duffle bag while Mike sat on the edge of the bed and turned on the small tv, flipping through the channels while she clattered around. He didn't know why she needed to start now, she was like the most low maintenance girl he'd ever known, surely she'd be done in a few minutes.
Almost an hour later Max still hadn't emerged, so he opened his duffle bag and changed into his plain black t-shirt and jeans, repeating the outfit she had approved for the party a few weeks ago. Peering at himself in the dusty mirror above the dresser, he frowned and pushed his overgrown bangs out of his face, finding himself for the first time feeling self-conscious about his appearance in front of Max. He let out a noise of frustration when his cowlick refused to cooperate, throwing himself back onto the bed once he'd given up trying to tame it.
The news anchor on TV was droning on about some issue the city council had been debating when Mike heard the sound of the bathroom door unlocking and he glanced up as it swung open. Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. She was trying to kill him.
His gaze travelled slowly upwards as he took in Max's black combat boots, fishnet tights under her cut-off shorts, an oversized Pink Floyd t-shirt tied up over her bellybutton; her hair was in loose, bouncy curls and she'd put on dark red lipstick and black eyeshadow that made her eyes seem impossibly bluer than usual. She fidgeted with her hair, running her fingers through the curls and smoothing them away from her face.
"You look… nice," Mike choked out, resisting the urge to wipe his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans.
"Thanks," Max mumbled in a self-deprecating tone. "Rachel did my makeup when I was at her house so I just tried to copy what she did." She looked at herself in the mirror next to the closet and grimaced. "It probably looks stupid."
"No! It looks uh, really good," he reassured her, stopping himself from using one of the many complimentary adjectives that were currently swirling around in his stupid lizard brain.
"Thanks," she repeated, giving him a small smile and then a quick once over. "You also look good." Mike felt like his face was on fire, suddenly feeling very awkward reclining on the bed while she stood there looking like that.
"Well," Max said, crossing in front of the television and taking a seat at the round table next to it. "I'm gonna roll up." Mike nodded absently, trying to stay focused on the TV instead of staring at her like an idiot.
"Mike?" she asked, looking at him expectantly. "Pass me the bag?" He felt himself blush again, quickly reaching for his backpack and fumbling with the zipper before pulling out his plastic bag of weed and rolling papers.
"Oh um, yeah. Here," he said as he tossed it over. Max got to work and his eyes kept flicking over to her like a magnet, each time that he had to tear his gaze away felt harder than the last. The tip of her pink tongue flicked out, licking languidly along the seam of the paper, and he felt his dick give a twitch of interest. You are going to hell. Disgusted with himself, he gritted his teeth and turned his gaze back to the news report, steadfastly keeping it there until she was finished.
They started walking the five blocks to the club, Mike charging ahead to avoid looking at Max any more than was strictly necessary.
"Slow your roll, Wheeler," she panted, struggling to keep up with his long strides. "We've got time." Mike frowned when a group of men catcalled and whistled at Max from across the street. She flipped them off without hesitation and he smiled to himself, slowing down until he was walking on the left side of her in an attempt to shield her from the street. A few minutes later they stopped in an alley to smoke one of their joints, leaning up against the brick wall as they passed it back and forth. It was dusk now and the sky was painted with soft pastels and deep oranges.
Mike could feel the change in energy in the city as night fell—traffic roared around them and groups of what looked to be college students filled the sidewalks, laughing and talking loudly as they made their way to the various restaurants and bars that lined the street, ready to blow off some steam after a long week of classes.
"There it is!" Max exclaimed once they resumed walking, pointing down the block at a large neon sign spelling out "Razz-Ma-Tazz", the theatre-style marquee just below it advertising The Jesus and Mary Chain in black blocky letters. Mike felt a rush of adrenaline as they approached, the reality of the concert finally kicking in.
They joined the lineup of leather and denim-clad young adults outside of the club, huddling in the cool evening air and smoking cigarettes, chattering excitedly about the band. He and Max exchanged a nervous look as they reached the front and she handed the bouncer her cash and ID. The bored-looking man glanced at the license and then up at her for half a second before waving her through, doing the same for Mike.
They shared a grin as they pushed the doors open, entering the dark and already crowded club. The air was hazy with cigarette smoke and loud rock music played over the speakers quickly overwhelming their senses, their eyes widening as they took it all in.
The wood-panelled walls were covered with neon beer signs and black and white photos of bands and clubgoers over the years; strings of multi-coloured lights crisscrossed the exposed beams on the ceiling; there was a stage at the far end where a few roadies were milling about, setting up equipment and taping down wires while a disco ball rotated slowly above, casting a pattern of swirling white lights on the large empty dance floor.
"Drink?" Max shouted over the noise, tilting her head towards the busy bar on the left side of the room. Mike nodded, instinctually hovering a hand over her lower back to shield her from being jostled by the crowd. She shoved her way toward the front and glanced back at him when she reached the bar. "Beer?"
"Sure," he nodded. Once the overwhelmed bartender finally got to them she quickly ducked behind the counter and popped the cap off of two beer bottles, exchanging them for the five dollar bill Max slid across the counter. Next to them, a tall, heavyset man in a denim vest who already seemed wasted stumbled backwards into Max, almost spilling his drink on her.
"Hey, watch it!" she snapped at the oblivious man as she was knocked off balance. Mike yanked her in front of himself, curling his hand around her hip to stabilize her and quickly pulling it away once he'd gotten them out of the way.
"Thanks," she muttered, narrowing her eyes at the rowdy college boys. Drinks in hand, they scanned the crowded space for a free table. When they didn't see any they made their way toward one of the large wooden pillars, leaning against it as they sipped from their bottles.
A few minutes later a short-haired blonde girl tapped Max on the shoulder to get her attention and leaned in closer to her ear. Mike thought her haircut looked just like that British princess that was always on the cover of his mom's magazines.
"Your hair is amazing!" the girl shouted over the noise of the bar.
Max looked taken aback for a second before giving her a smile. "Thanks, I grew it myself."
A look of surprise crossed the girl's face before she burst out laughing and leaned in again. "Do you guys go to UI as well?"
"Uh no, we're from out of town," Max replied.
"Right on," the girl nodded, glancing up at Mike. "Well my friends and I have a booth over there, you guys should come join us!" She gestured over to the crowded booths at the back of the club. Max looked up at Mike who shrugged, letting her know it was up to her.
"Yeah sure, thanks!" she replied to the girl, letting her lead them over one of the crescent-shaped booths.
"I'm Kate by the way," the girl said as the noise of the crowded bar lessened slightly. They came to a stop in front of a booth filled with other college kids, a few pitchers of beer on the table in front of them. Kate pointed at each of them in turn, starting with a black girl with waist-length braids and a nose ring. "This is Lisa."
"Hi!" The girl flashed a pearly white smile and waved. Kate gestured at the two brunette boys on the other side.
"That's Scooter." The shorter haired boy nodded at them, pushing his black framed glasses further up his nose. "And that lovely specimen right there is Cheese."
"Sup?" the long-haired boy sporting a bright yellow beanie asked, tilting the chair he was sitting on onto its back legs. Mike gave the group an awkward wave.
"I'm Max and this is Mike," Max shouted over the noise of the club.
"Scooch over guys!" Kate exclaimed, motioning for the group to move over on the cracked brown vinyl seat. Mike took the empty wooden chair next to Cheese while Max slid into the booth beside Kate.
"So where are y'all from?" Scooter asked Mike, leaning across the table so he wouldn't have to yell.
"Uh… north of here," Mike answered, bouncing his knee. He wanted to avoid bringing up the now notorious town's name if possible.
"Oh, whereabouts?" Scooter inquired, eyebrows raised in interest. "My mom's from South Bend." Shit, Mike thought to himself.
"Um, Hawkins?" He saw Cheese perk up next to him out of the corner of his eye.
"No shit," he exclaimed, turning towards Mike from the chair next to him. "Isn't that the town that had that mall fire last summer where all those people died?"
"Yeah, that's the one…" Mike replied nervously, glancing over at Max who thankfully appeared to be deep in conversation with the girls. He let out a relieved sigh, glad she wouldn't be potentially upset by the mention of the "fire".
"Wild shit, man." Cheese shook his head, taking a sip of his beer. "Life is so like, fleeting. One day you're just chilling at the mall with your homies and the next, poof, you're gone," he mused, snapping his fingers. Mike nodded, desperately wishing someone would change the subject as he felt his chest tightening with anxiety.
"So, you guys big fans of JAMC?" Lisa asked, tiling her chin towards Mike before leaning her head on Scooter's shoulder and resting a hand on his knee. Oh, thank god.
"Yeah!" Mike nodded enthusiastically. "We were both basically obsessed as soon as we heard the album."
"You know what would take the concert experience to a whole 'nother level?" Cheese asked as he reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a small plastic bag, shaking it temptingly in front of his face.
Mike frowned. "What is it?"
Scooter smirked and leaned over the table. "Let's just say this night will be brought to you by the letter… X." Mike and Max shared a glance, both of them raising their eyebrows in surprise.
"X as in… ecstasy?" Max asked.
"Yeah, man," Cheese interjected. "This is gonna be the perfect night for it, we're all taking some. There's enough for you two if you want. No pressure though, dude, totally up to you," he added.
"You guys can split one if you want it to be less hardcore," Kate added, leaning closer to them. "It's pretty strong shit." Mike scooted his chair over to consult with Max, who moved closer to the edge of her bench and bent her head towards him.
"Are we doing this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Max grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I mean I think we have to, right? At least for the story."
"I will if you will," Mike chuckled as he shrugged, fully surrendering to wherever this night was taking him. Max nodded decisively before turning and holding her hand out to Cheese. He grinned and dropped a single white tablet into her palm.
"When should we take them?" she asked as she pressed her thumb nail into the pill, breaking it in half and handing one to Mike.
Scooter glanced back at the stage where they were starting soundcheck and then down at his watch.
"I think it's actually about that time kids!" Lisa grabbed the pitcher of light beer and refilled everyone's cups while the others passed the plastic baggie around, each of them taking a pill and popping them in their mouths before chugging their beers. Mike and Max glanced down at the jagged half pills perched on the tips of each of their index fingers before looking up at each other.
"Here's to… whatever this is gonna be," Max laughed, tapping her finger against his as if they were clinking glasses. Mike brought his finger to his tongue, sucking the pill into his mouth before washing it down with the lukewarm remains of his beer.
"And now we wait," Scooter said as he leaned back in the booth and interlocked his hands behind his head.
"How will we know when it kicks in?" Mike asked. Kate let out a high-pitched laugh as the rest of the group chuckled.
"Oh, you'll know. Trust me," she answered. The others nodded in agreement.
"I'm gonna run to the restroom before the show starts," Max said, getting up out of the booth and smoothing her hair down.
"I'll come with!" Kate exclaimed, jumping up and leading Max toward the opposite side of the club.
Lisa leaned over the table toward Mike again. "Your girlfriend's really pretty!" He felt his stomach do the now familiar flip he'd been experiencing since this morning. Why does everyone assume we're a couple?
"Oh, she's not my girlfriend!" he replied, although he suddenly found himself wondering what it would be like to be able to say that yes, his girlfriend was pretty.
"Really?" Lisa asked, cocking her head in surprise before a slow smile spread over her face. "You want her to be though." He felt his cheeks heat up, embarrassed at apparently being so transparent.
"What? No. We're just friends," he insisted.
"I dunno dude, she doesn't look at you like you're just friends," Scooter interjected, eyebrows raised. Mike swallowed. That couldn't be right, could it?
He quickly changed the subject as he chatted a bit more with Scooter and Lisa, learning they were all sophomores at the University of Indiana except for Cheese, who had dropped out after last semester and was now trying to make it as a bass guitarist. Mike jumped in his seat when a pair of warm hands clapped down firmly on his shoulders and gave them a quick squeeze.
"I think they're coming out soon!" Max exclaimed, removing her hands before picking up her beer bottle and polishing it off, flashing Mike an excited grin. Since when did she touch him casually like that? Mike blushed again and glanced toward the stage, seeing an antsy crowd starting to gather in front of it.
"I wonder what they'll open with," Lisa mused as she emptied the remains of the pitcher into her cup.
"Gotta be 'Just Like Honey,'" Kate replied as she tied her flannel shirt around her waist and slung her bag across her chest.
Cheese jumped out of his seat. "Whatever it is, I wanna be near the front when they come out. Let's go!" he exclaimed, leading the group onto the perpetually sticky dance floor, the heels of Mike's Converse suctioning to the worn concrete with every step. The group wove their way through the crowd, finding a spot towards the right side of the stage. Mike stationed himself behind Max, making sure she had a good view despite her stature. She looked back at him, smiling brightly, and he couldn't help but grin back, her giddiness was infectious.
The energy in the air was becoming electric, a sense of excitement and anticipation building as the dance floor continued to fill with people. As the lights dimmed and the music that had been playing faded out, everyone started cheering and clapping in excitement, knowing the band was about to come out soon.
Then the stage was illuminated with bright lights and the four band members, all clad in black were running out onto the stage, waving as the crowd's excitement reached a fever pitch and they picked up their instruments, the opening drumbeats and chords of "Just Like Honey" filling the room as the crowd let out a collective cheer.
The atmosphere was intoxicating as everyone started moving with the music. Max looked back at Mike and they smiled at each other, singing along to the song together for a few minutes before turning back toward the stage and letting themselves get lost in the moment. As the feedback-heavy chords of "In a Hole" rang out, Mike wondered if the Ecstasy had kicked in yet. Kate had said they would definitely be able to tell. He glanced over at their new friends who were jumping around and singing along loudly to the music. They didn't seem any different than they had been before, but then again he didn't know what someone on X looked like.
And then time seemed to freeze for a second as he felt a shiver run through him from head to toe, and when he looked back up at the brightly lit stage he felt… different. He wasn't sure exactly how to describe it but the coloured lights above him seemed brighter, the air felt lighter, and it felt easier to breathe even though his heart rate had noticeably increased. Everything felt… surreal. He reached forward and put his hand on Max's shoulder, marvelling at how soft the cotton of her t-shirt felt under his tingling fingertips. The flashing strobe light in front of them made it feel like everything was moving in both slow motion and double time simultaneously. She whipped around and looked up at him, her pupils blown wide and a carefree smile on her face. Oh man, she's so pretty, he thought to himself. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her, pull her back against him and bury his nose in her soft hair.
"Are you feeling it too?" she shouted over the deafening screech of the guitar. Mike laughed and nodded vigorously, getting lost in her eyes for a moment before being drawn back into the concert in front of him.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed but suddenly the sound seemed to dampen, and then all he could hear for a few seconds was the steady beat of his heart. Thump. Thump. Thump. Then the music rushed back in all at once. He felt like he could hear all the different instruments separately; guitar, drums, vocals, different layers of the music coming into focus at different times.
The crowd roared when the song ended, and then again when the band launched into the familiar notes of "Some Candy Talking". Next to him, Kate had climbed onto Scooter's shoulders, swaying her arms above the crowd and singing along to the slower song, her lighter high in the air. Max turned and looked at Mike with a hopeful expression on her face, silently asking if she could do the same.
He laughed and crouched down, wrapping his arms around her knees as she got into the position and he carefully stood up, his hands instinctively sliding up to her thighs to keep her steady.
He suddenly became very aware of the texture of her fishnet tights and her soft skin under his fingertips. Oh god, his head was in between Max's legs. To make matters worse, her hand that wasn't holding up the lighter rested on his head, and she started gently running her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp. Mike shuddered. It felt like she was touching him everywhere, and he felt like he was overheating.
Thankfully, the song came to an end and he carefully lowered Max down to the floor. She smiled and threw her arms around him in gratitude, the feeling of her body against his and her intoxicating scent overwhelming his senses. If he hadn't been practically drooling over her all day he'd just chalk these feelings up to the Ecstasy, but somewhere in the back of his hazy mind, he realized it was more than that.
And when they parted he could have sworn her hands lingered as they slid down his chest but then Kate and Lisa pulled them into the middle of their group, the moment forgotten as all of them started dancing and jumping around with abandon, shouting the song lyrics at each other at the tops of their lungs. Mike felt his emotions spiralling even higher, feeling completely connected to the music and the people and the collective experience they were sharing in this perfect, magical moment where it felt like nothing existed outside the walls of the club.
"I swear Jim looked right at me and winked!"
"He did not Kate, you're delusional and high as balls," Lisa laughed as she shoved her friend in front of her.
After the concert had concluded with an encore performance of "Taste the Floor '', the group spilled out onto the street, ears ringing as they loudly chattered about their favourite parts of the show, making their way down the block arm in arm. Lisa had insisted Mike and Max join them at Scooter's place a few blocks away and they had agreed, too hyped up from the drugs and the excitement of the concert to end the night right away.
Now it was just after one in the morning and they were lounging around the living room of Scooter's small townhouse—Mike and Max sprawled out on the lumpy futon, Lisa sitting on Scooter's lap in the old recliner, and Kate and Cheese lying on the grey carpeted floor. An old Grateful Dead record played as they passed around a few joints, which Cheese assured them would help with the comedown from the Ecstasy, the marijuana smoke mingling with that of the burning incense stick on the sticker-covered coffee table, swirling languidly in the neon pink light of a lava lamp.
Lisa had convinced the group to partake in a game of Truth or Dare after a few rounds of Never Have I Ever kept ending in Mike and Max being the last ones standing, obviously far less experienced than the college students.
"I'm just saying man, the Reagans are definitely lizard people," Cheese declared from his spot on the floor. "In his last speech, you can totally see where his human mask-"
"Okay Cheese, can we have one night without the conspiracy theories, please?" Lisa asked, cutting him off. "It's my turn in the game anyway." He rolled his eyes but raised his hands in surrender before taking a drag off the joint Max passed him. Lisa turned toward Mike, a dangerous smile spreading across her face.
"Mike, truth or dare?"
Mike felt a jolt of anxiety run through him, suddenly panicking that Lisa would ask him something about Max. "Umm… dare, I guess?"
"Okay," Lisa grinned, "I dare you and Max to go into the pantry for seven minutes in heaven."
"Oh, I dunno guys…" Mike said, his heart hammering against his rib cage as his cheeks heated up.
"Oh come on Wheeler, we don't have to do anything," Max said from her spot beside him as she jumped to her feet. How the fuck is she being so cool about this? he thought to himself as he stood and followed her and Lisa to the kitchen.
"Be a lot cooler if you did!" Cheese called out as Scooter wolf-whistled after them. Lisa gave Mike a wink as she shoved him through the narrow doorway of the pantry behind Max and closed the door.
"I'm starting the timer now!" she called out in a sing-song voice as she walked away.
The pantry was tiny, and Mike quickly backed up to give Max as much space as possible, bumping into shelves of dried pasta and cereal. Even though he'd hit his peak hours ago, his skin suddenly felt hot and tingly like it had at the concert as he gazed down at his friend, mesmerized by her beauty in the dim light of the bare bulb above their heads. He'd be perfectly happy spending the next seven minutes just counting the freckles on her face.
"How um, how are you feeling?" he asked, snapping out of his stupor after a few seconds. A dreamy smile spread across Max's face.
"Amazing," she breathed, crossing her arms and absently running the fingers of one hand over the bicep of her other arm. "I definitely peaked towards the end of the concert but I'm still feeling… a lot."
"Me too," Mike nodded as they continued to stare at each other, his eyes roving over her face. Her red lipstick was slightly smudged around the edges of her mouth. He wanted to lick it off of her. The tension in the cramped room suddenly felt oppressively thick. And then she was somehow closer to him, only a few inches of space separating their bodies. He swore he could almost see electricity crackling between them. There's no way Max fucking Mayfield wants you to kiss her right now, get your head out of your ass. But then her gaze seemed to drop down to his lips for a split second and she was looking back up at him and leaning closer and he was tilting his head down and-
The door was flung open, the fluorescent kitchen light blinding them both as Lisa stood wide-eyed in the doorway.
"Someone smelled the pot and called the cops, you guys gotta go!" she exclaimed, grabbing Mike's arm and yanking him out, Max grasping his other elbow and trailing behind. "Here, out the back," Lisa wrenched open the sliding door and shoved them out into the cool night air.
"Thanks for everything?" Mike whispered as she slid the door closed, giving them an apologetic wave as she pulled the curtain shut.
They crept across the wet paving stones of the tiny backyard, Mike's head swirling from the chaotic sequence of events that just transpired. If he didn't know any better he could have sworn they were about to kiss but there was just... no way Max would have wanted that, was there? He took a deep breath and looked up at the night sky. It had started drizzling at some point in the night, the cold raindrops feeling heavenly on Mike's overheated skin. He slowly opened the gate in the chain link fence, wincing as it squeaked loudly, before he peeked around the corner at the police car parked on the street, red and blue lights flashing over the row of townhouses.
Without thinking he reached back and grabbed Max's hand before breaking into a sprint in the opposite direction, not slowing down until they'd rounded the corner.
"Will you slow the fuck down?" Max panted while they took refuge beneath the awning of a now-closed restaurant.
"It's not my fault you're like four feet tall," Mike teased as he leaned against a window and caught his breath.
Max shot him a murderous look. "I am five four and a quarter you freakish bean pole!" Mike laughed until he realized he still had her soft, warm hand clasped in his, dropping it quickly and running his hand through his rain-dampened hair.
They started walking in the direction of the hotel, taking their time and enjoying the refreshing mist of the light rain as the drugs continued to dissipate from their systems. Mike felt like his skin was on fire every time their shoulders or hands accidentally brushed, which seemed to be happening a lot. It was almost two in the morning by the time they stumbled through the door, giggling while they recounted one of Cheese's more ridiculous conspiracy theories.
A sudden heaviness seemed to replace the lighthearted atmosphere as the door swung closed behind them, leaving them in the oppressive silence of their room. Max cleared her throat as she kicked off her boots.
"I'm gonna get changed," she said, picking up her duffel bag from the floor and making her way to the bathroom.
Mike nodded as he grabbed his own bag and wandered over to the far side of the bed, suddenly unsure of what to do. He usually only slept in boxers but he should probably wear more than that now, right? Should he just sleep in his clothes? He saw a bright light in his periphery and glanced over, eyes going wide when he realized Max had accidentally left the bathroom door open. He caught a glimpse of creamy white skin and a black bra clasp snapping open before he quickly turned away, his heart pounding as a rush of arousal pulsed through him.
He kept his eyes firmly on the floral print comforter in front of him as he stepped out of his jeans, deciding he'd keep his t-shirt on even though he suddenly felt like he was overheating. He slipped under the covers and turned off the light on the nightstand, facing the wall so Max wouldn't suspect he'd seen her changing. She'd kill him if she caught him looking, even if it was an accident. Clenching his teeth and breathing deeply, he tried to will away the hard-on that was trying to make an appearance in his boxers, praying that tomorrow he'd wake up and this temporary insanity would be over.
After a few minutes, he heard Max emerge from the bathroom and slowly make her way toward the bed. It sounded like she was just standing in place for a minute and Mike tried to even out his breathing, hoping she would just assume he'd passed out. He felt the mattress dip behind him as she finally got into the bed and turned off the light, leaving them in darkness.
He stared at the red numbers of the digital clock and tried to remember all the reasons he couldn't roll over and press her body into the lumpy motel mattress, images of her in various states of undress flashing across his consciousness until his eyes drifted closed.