Hazy
A/N: Can you believe it's been a year since I started this story? This is so crazy to me. I was not expecting to still be working on this, but thank you all so much for joining me on this ride! A million thanks for your patience and support.
Thwack… Thwack…
Billy stirred, the world around him shrouded in darkness.
Thwack… Thwack…
He twitched at the sound. What the hell is that?
Thwack…
Billy groaned and slowly peeled his heavy eyelids apart, squinting against the bright morning light that pierced his skull like a thousand tiny daggers. His room seemed unfamiliar, a jumbled landscape of blurred shapes. As he tried to remember what he did the night before, his throbbing head reminded him of his terrible encounter with vodka.
Thwack… Thwack…
Billy looked around, the shapes coming into focus until, finally, he realized he was in his room. How the hell did I get here?
He reached for his clock, but his hand seemed unmoving, heavy like a block of lead. He slowly turned his head. Through bleary eyes, he squinted at the screen, wincing at the harsh brightness of the blinking time–11:52. Fuck.
Thwack… Thud… Thunk… Crash! "Shit."
A cluster of noise rang through his room. Billy, still groggy, lifted his head to find the source of the noise. As he rose, he scrunched his nose, catching a whiff of something nauseating, a foul stench that resembled an awful blend of alcohol and vomit. He turned toward the fireplace, releasing a deep groan when he saw Max straightening a toppled nicknack on his mantel, holding her hands out as if to say, "Stay there." Then, she stepped back, rearranged something in her hand, and proceeded to throw darts at his dartboard.
Billy let his head fall back onto the pillow. "Do I need to put up a stay-out sign?" he growled, his mouth dry and raw. It's only then he realized the nauseating smell was his own breath.
Max startled slightly, her dart veering dangerously close to the edge of the board. She glanced over her shoulder. "About time you woke up."
"Ugh… Maaax. How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my room?" he groaned. "Get. Ouuut." When she only stared at him, clearly indicating she wasn't gonna listen, he huffed and snapped, "Well, you going to tell me why you're in here?"
"Making sure you don't run off… Again." She threw another dart. Thwack.
Again?
Billy's eyes darted along the ceiling, trying to piece together the fragments of the party. But the more he strained, the more he realized his night was such a blur. With a huff, Billy lifted himself up, letting the blanket fall from him as he planted his bare feet on the ground. He suddenly felt a lot less hot but was still surprised to find his leather jacket still on. His chest felt sticky. And his shoes were gone yet he didn't remember taking them off. Didn't even remember how he ended up in bed.
Billy ruffled his matted hair, stopping when it agitated his throbbing forehead. He opened his mouth, ready to ask Max how he got here, but she flew into a rant.
"I can't believe you!" she said as she focused on the dartboard. Her brow furrowed as she glared at it just before sending another dart flying. Billy winced, actually winced, when it struck the middle of the seven. She huffed and spun towards him, swinging her hand with the other darts still in it. He reared back as she pointed at him with a dart.
"I can't believe you made me deal with all that last night," she exclaimed, frustration evident in her voice. But the frown on her face seemed like a permanent fix, pointed right at him. Yet her eyes were slightly red, and he blinked a few times trying to understand what she could possibly be talking about.
When he didn't respond, she flailed her hands. "I mean, you know how heavy you are, right? Why make me have to drag you through the house like that? Only to trip all over the place like some freaking toddler. I'll bet you think it's so funny now, huh? Let me do all the work while you go on and on. 'I'm hot… ugh it's so hot,'" she mocked with a scowl. "I bet you feel really silly looking back… I know I would." Her face twisted as though remembering last night left her visibly irritated, and she shook her head.
Billy raised a brow, his brain finally catching up to what she was spouting. "You carried me in? How the hell a little pipsqueak like you manage that?" Does she really expect him to believe that? That she, being four foot nothing, actually carried his weight into the house? Not a shot in hell.
Max stopped mid-throw.
A flash of surprise flew across her face as she threw a glance his way, this time holding it a second longer—long enough for him to notice the bags under her eyes—but it vanished just as quickly. He frowned, blinking again as if that might clear his vision somehow. Why would she be surprised by that question?
"By dragging you in… sort of…" she finally said. "You helped a little…very little. God, it was like wrangling in a child." She snapped with an impatient huff, as though she was the elder one and he was on the receiving end of a scolding. He focused again on the bags under her eyes and watched as she narrowed her focus on the board.
He scoffed as she tossed another dart, missing the bull's eye by a mile. But then Max shifted her attention back to him, idly toying with the last dart in her hand, her gaze fixed on him. He, in turn, maintained a steady stare, leaving his expression flat so she couldn't scrutinize any ridiculous meanings out of what might be on his face. Maybe then she'd spare him and not come up with a thousand questions like normal in some lame attempt to discern his emotions. It seemed like a habit of hers anytime she gave him that stare. And in turn, it was a habit—and instinct—of his to look indifferent whenever she, or anyone, gave him that look. That same stupid look as if she were dissecting him once again, trying to figure him out or read his mind. He scowled, and she looked away.
Billy was getting more and more annoyed by Max's constant staring. It wasn't like he had any deep, dark secrets to hide about yesterday. In fact, it was growing more obvious that he couldn't remember a single thing from the night before. His last clear memory was playing three rounds of beer pong and his team downing whatever the hell was in the cups. But after that, things became hazier and hazier until everything was a blur. How did they end up here, back home, with Max throwing darts and Billy trying to remember what the hell happened? Actually, how did they even make it back home in one piece? These questions gnawed at him as he stared back at Max, searching for any clues in her expression that might jog his memory.
"And how did I get here?" he finally asked.
"I just told you."
"To the house, dumbass."
That flash of surprise flickered in her eyes again. She pursed her lips. "I drove."
Billy's eyes flared as his jaw fell. "Drove what? My car?!"
"How else do you think you got here? No way in hell was I about to let your drunk ass drive."
He looked horrified, wondering how she managed that. Hell, how she even managed to get his keys. But then he remembered how she stole it the first time after drugging him. Being drunk as all hell was no different. She could have easily taken them. Fuck. Could she even see the road when in the driver's seat? Did she know how the wheel sometimes pulled to the left? His stomach twisted at the thought her her keeping it on the road. Fuck, she didn't drive it on the damn sidewalk, right? Not once had he ever seen her behind the wheel, but why the hell would he have?
He eyed her suspiciously again, trying to wrap his brain around the idea that she drove them back. He'd heard her say before that her dad taught her to drive in a parking lot, but that's much different than going down the road at the speed limit. He clutched at his stomach, imagining her scraping along the curb… hitting the signs as she drove past and scratching the paint. Not in a million years would he have given her the keys willingly…. She better not have lost them. He wanted his keys back… he—
Billy's eyes widened, panicked at the thought. He shot up out of the bed to slap at his pockets, but his arms felt heavier than normal. Sluggish almost. He growled in annoyance when he found them to be empty and slapped at his leather jacket.
"Where are they? Where are the keys?!"
"In Neil's room. And don't worry, I parked the car in the garage."
He blinked, processing the words, and as he looked up at Max, the room began to spin. His stomach clenched again, and he stumbled back to the bed, landing on it with a grunt. "Oh shit…"
Massaging his temples in an attempt to slow the spinning sensation, it was clear his head was pounding. Which meant he'd drunk more than he'd planned. But for a moment as he thought about how little he remembered, he tried to see past his splitting headache to sense for anything else that might be injured. Any indication something else happened—if Neil happened. He flexed his chest and back, and moved his legs. Besides his killer headache, there was nothing else. No pain. Neil would have definitely chewed him out if there were any damages to the car or if he discovered Billy had been drinking, especially after explicitly telling him not to. Did Neil even know he'd been out?
Billy relaxed slightly, only to tense again as he pointed to Max. "There better not be a fucking scratch on it."
Her jaw dropped, as though lost for words, and she slowly shook her head at him. "That's what you're worried about?" She scoffed, "Heck, and here I was more worried about you barfing in it, which wouldn't be a worry if you hadn't drank so much." She glanced at the trashcan in the corner and shivered, her voice dropping into a grumble. "Guess I should have worried more about you doing it here."
Max threw the last dart in a 10-point black zone. She walked over to his pile of clothes on the floor and tossed a shirt toward Billy, who veered before snatching it from the air. Her tone was firm, "Please put something on. I really don't feel like seeing you half-naked right now."
Billy rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't have to if you stayed out of my room," he mumbled. As he slipped off his jacket to put on the shirt, Max couldn't help but continue her exasperated rant.
"Honestly, why do you keep taking off your shirt? Trying to show off to the girls? Ugh." She paused and tilted her head at him as her eyes narrowed. "You know, this would be the time to say thank you."
Thank her? Is she the one drunk all of a sudden?
"What for?" he said blandly, wondering why she was still staring at him.
Max scoffed and crossed her arms. "Like you don't know," she said to him, her tone cynical. But when she saw the seriousness in his eyes, she frowned and let her hands drop to her sides. "You don't remember?" she asked, her voice breathy like she'd stumbled on a surprise. Her eyes were slightly wide and something about it made him picture a light bulb turning on in her mind. He stared at her, still unsure how it wasn't totally obvious that he remembered nothing. Her expression wavered, changing from shock and awe to a raised brow, like she was about to call him a liar when he hadn't even said anything.
Billy narrowed his eyes, and she shook her head with a scoff before glancing down. Her expression fell, replaced with a disappointed look as her shoulders slumped. But then her expression hardened again. She sniffed, then looked back up, pointing at him. "You have no idea how hard it was trying to put you to bed. You kept springing up like you had somewhere to be. How did I get stuck babysitting when you were supposed to be the responsible one?"
Her words went in one ear and out the other, his head throbbing even more from her annoying shrill. Billy wasn't in the mood for a lecture. He really just wanted her to leave already so he could close his eyes and will his headache to pass. But she kept going. He fought a groan.
"...and then in the middle of the night, you suddenly got up and kept saying 'I gotta take a piss, I gotta take a piss'," she mocked with a shake of her head, then groaned. "If that wasn't enough, you tried to barge out the door! Practically slamming into it like some… brute jock. I had to stop you from making a bunch of noise." Her nose scrunched as she looked towards the trashcan again. "Had to convince you to use the trash to pee. And of course that wasn't all because, ha, just my luck, you spun just in time to hurl your guts out. I had to clean it all up after you face-planted on the bed again." She looked at him in disgust, like she smelled something awful.
Billy glanced down at himself with a frown, checking to see if he had gotten any vomit on himself. He breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't see any. He thought her rant was over, but she still kept going.
"Ugh… it smelled so awful. Even got some on my shirt…" She shuddered, and he looked back up at her admission, wondering if she was ever going to shut up.
Still, with each added detail, Billy's brows couldn't help but unfurrow from annoyance and raise in amusement. Knowing how easily Max got grossed out, he wished he could have remembered the look on her face–would it match the one she had now? Scrunched nose, curled lip…did she go green in the face and hold back her own urge to puke? It would have been satisfying, to see her squirm in discomfort as she wiped at the beer taitined spew on her shirt. Oh what he would give to have chuckled at that, but the look on her face now would have to do.
Billy chuckled, despite the short throb it sent to his head. "Seems wild. Guess that means I had a good time last night."
"It's not funny!" She balled up another shirt and threw it at his head with all her might. His hand was too slow to block his face, so the shirt slapped him right in the nose and mouth. His head gave a throb, and a flare of annoyance surged, but seeing the incredulous look on her face made the smirk stay on his.
He tossed the shirt to the floor. From what Max was saying, so much had happened last night. And he couldn't remember even a minute of it. Her driving them to the house, her putting him to bed, her keeping him in his room… "Wait a minute…"
Billy's amused smile faltered as he turned to her, her arms crossed angrily. "You said you stopped me from leaving the room? You were in here up all night?"
"Watching you, yeah. Someone had to. No telling what you'd do. If I wasn't, you would have probably woken the whole house. Barely got any sleep 'cause of you," she mumbled.
His thoughts churned as he gave Max a puzzled stare. That explained the bags under her eyes. Still, she had stayed up, keeping an eye on him, preventing him from doing something stupid, or more stupid he supposed, and keeping him out of trouble with Neil.
That weird, sappy feeling in his chest flickered again. Not once did Billy question if what Max was saying was far-fetched or not. He believed her. Every word of her long night. Her driving his car. And not just that, going through hoops to get him home and put him to bed? Now that he thought about it, it actually dawned on him that she literally cleaned up his mess. You couldn't pay him to clean up crap or spit let alone someone else's chunks, yet she had? And a good job apparently because there was no evidence left other than the stench on his breath.
For everything she said, she was at the center of it. And he couldn't even remember a moment of it.
Billy squeezed his eyes, trying to think back to the last thing he remembered. The memories of the party were fuzzy, like looking through static. Jello shots, beer after beer, more shots, and no memory of fireworks… The fuzziness grew into nothing. Blank. There was so much time he was missing. Usually, he wouldn't care (only saw it as proof of a great time), so why did he now? Why did he want to remember what came after?
"Does Neil know?" he asked, his voice softer.
The annoyance on Max's face fell as she slowly uncrossed her arms. She shook her head. "I don't think so. They came home and went straight to bed… for the most part. Neil slept in too, but he's probably awake now 'cause mom is up cooking breakfast… or brunch I guess."
Billy simply nodded, his gaze drifting to the floor briefly as his mind wandered and ruminated. His fingers unconsciously stroked his chin as he thought. It wasn't unheard of for Neil to be a little oblivious to some of Billy's antics. There were plenty of times when Neil hadn't caught wind of his hangovers. Seemed oblivious really to some of the mischief he found himself in and out of faster than Neil could sniff out. Some things, Neil never found out about. But something as big as this? A blackout… Billy was shocked he hadn't woken up with more bruises. Had he actually avoided punishment or any repercussion at all… because of Max?
How the hell had she managed to keep it secret?
He glanced up and ceased all movement. Max was standing in front of his couch, fully facing him, that curious sad, and sympathetic look in her eyes. Similar to the looks she'd give him after a beating, or after the car accident when he'd barely said a few words to her, or even like the time he'd taken care of her when she was sick. It was the unsure, guarded expression that left him unsettled and on edge.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he said, only slight irritation in his tone.
She shifted on her heels, her fingers mindlessly rubbing together at her side. "So… you really don't remember anything about last night? Nothing at all? Not even what you said to me?"
Billy's eyebrows furrowed in a mix of shock and curiosity. "Why? What did I say?"
Her eyes widened ever so slightly. Then her shoulders and eyes fell, disappointed. "Nothing… you just… called me a bunch of names."
Billy watched her turn away, a frown on her face. At first, he thought he said something hurtful, which wouldn't surprise him. He was always dishing out insults whenever he felt it was necessary. But the lag in Max's gaze, the disappointment said otherwise.
For the hundredth time that morning, Billy tried to search through his memories. He remembered the party, the keg near the pool, making out with some chick named Kim or Kimberly, and even chasing some guys away from his car, but after that, everything was a blur he couldn't remember.
Now, he wished he had.
What the hell did he do last night? What did he say?
Billy grabbed his throbbing head, as though it would help jog his memory.
"Here."
He looked up to see Max's arm outstretched to him, handing him a glass of water.
He grumbled.
"Just take it." She nudged it toward him.
Billy gave a short glare before slowly taking it from her. He took a small sip.
"I also found your gum. And an apple," Max said, pointing to the items on top of his fireplace. "Food probably doesn't sound appealing right now, but I heard eating something can help mask bad breath."
Billy ignored the subtle dig. His thoughts and emotions swirled in a mix of surprise and conflicting feelings. Even now after everything, she was looking out for him. He wasn't used to someone, other than his mother, looking out for him like this. That warm feeling he was getting, it was just plain weird… alien, almost unreal. And the thought of her going to such lengths, and even her suggestion about the apple helping with the booze breath? That threw him for a loop. It was all so new, so casual. A part of him wanted to shove down the feeling, to shove down anything creeping up, anything close to vulnerability. Still… he felt kinda torn between appreciating it and still not quite believing it was happening.
Max hadn't moved from her spot. The ways she shifted, Billy could tell another (most likely annoying) question was coming. He tried to guess to take his mind off the warm feeling in his chest: Do you have any idea how much you drank last night? Why on earth did you think it was a good idea to get that wasted? Do you realize how much trouble you could have gotten into? Why–
"What's in the trunk?"
Billy stopped mid-sip, taken aback. He at least remembered that.
He slowly tipped his head up to look at her. "What?"
"Last night, you kept pushing me away from it. Said I'd scratch the paint or some nonsense. But really, it just seemed like you didn't want me looking in there…"
Silence seemed to echo in the room as they stared at one another. He couldn't understand why she was so nosy all the time. With her questions first and now snooping. His head throbbed and he glared. "Get the fuck out, Max."
Max's mouth dropped. "Wha–"
"Bad enough you drive my car and lounge in my room looking through stuff, but to be sticking your nose into my trunk too? Ugh, you're so annoying."
"But I–"
"What's next, Max? Wanna search through the closet or the bedside table? Do you have to know about literally everything? Ugh, you're so nosy. Can't believe you tried to look in my trunk."
"But…I didn't–"
"Go!"
Max was flaberghasted. She smacked her lips and grumbled, turning on her heels. "Why is that so taboo all of a sudden?"
Billy couldn't think past the ache of his head, at least not fully. But there was that part of him that knew Max didn't know what was in his trunk. Maybe it was the hint of curiousness in her voice when she asked. Or the way she had stared at his face, waiting for an answer. Surely if she had known, it would be obvious, right? Whatever the case, he wasn't very subtle about it. He could have been, but he couldn't handle the barrage of questions she would throw at him if he relented and told her the truth. So he'd said whatever he could to get her out. Hell, she could have looked for herself when she put the car back. He couldn't help but wonder why she didn't.
Max stomped to the door like a pouting child, and Billy rolled his eyes at the ridiculous sight. As soon as she placed her hand on the doorknob, she stopped. For a moment, she just stood there until, finally, she slightly turned to face him, her expression soft.
"You're not…pretending, are you?"
Billy bristled, feeling slightly annoyed by that question, immediately knowing what was being asked. Not only was it a subtle comparison to Neil pretending not to remember the other day, but it implied she didn't trust him… But then again, why would he be upset that she didn't? In fact, he didn't want to think of all the reasons why she probably didn't trust him—why she shouldn't. He couldn't seem to shake the way her question made his chest feel like it was in a pinch.
"What do you think, Max?" he snapped before mumbling under his breath, "Why the hell would I bother?"
She said nothing for a moment. "I don't think you are."
But something in her eyes told him she knew he wasn't lying. The strange softness in the way she regarded him? He wanted to squirm under her gaze, but also… he felt relieved by it. Why? But that softness began to dissipate, being replaced with something like acceptance. Her downturned mouth and tired eyes looked sunken all of a sudden and her shoulders slumped a bit. He couldn't put a finger on it, but couldn't help but wonder if she had wanted him to be lying? Like she wanted him to remember last night.
What did she want him to remember?
Max spoke gently, "Neil wanted a family day today, so… please just… be careful, OK?"
His irritation faded as a mix of uncertainty swirled in his mind. He sighed, which seemed an answer enough. He didn't have the energy to be anything other than careful. After a lingering silence, Max pursed her lips and quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Billy was left alone on his bed, the glass in his hand forgotten. He lowered it slowly, his thoughts swirling as he grappled with the weight of her words and his own conflicting emotions.
. . .
Max pushed her scrambled eggs around with a fork as she hunched over the dining table. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the sad thoughts and feelings in her chest about Billy not remembering what he said to her:
That's because it's exhausting with you as a nosy and mouthy sister.
You're the definition of a sister.
Sister… his sister.
They had a full-blown conversation. Several in fact! How could he not remember?
It's not like she had the most experience with dealing with drunk people. How would she know if they did or didn't remember? She just assumed people remembered the shit they did. Heck, Billy had come home drunk before, but he'd always have his memories intact. So she never even considered the possibility of him being so hammered that his night would seem like a dream. Not even that. You could remember parts of a dream, but his night seemed to be completely wiped from existence!
Yet she couldn't keep that curious part of her brain from wondering why he acted so strange when she asked what was in the trunk. He was able to remember that apparently; though how he was able to remember, she wasn't sure. All things pointed to something having been in there before the party. But then again, he only had the car for two days, so it didn't seem that likely. He acted so strange about it when she asked that she was sure it had to have happened during the party. So how did he remember that specifically and nothing else?
Surely, he isn't lying about pretending. Right?
He had no reason to… not to her at least.
Max let out a sigh, still surprised by how much his lack of recall affected her. Why did it bother her so much not to be called his sister? Part of her hoped he was lying because he was just embarrassed about all the things he'd admitted, especially the things about his mother.
You're not nice like her….or as pretty.
Mom gave it to me. Said it would protect me.
I couldn't protect her…
Then again, maybe it was a good thing if he lied…or actually did forget. But she still couldn't stop the prickle of disappointment from fluttering in her chest. After all, she had acted like a sister, hadn't she?
After parking the car in the garage and putting the keys back on Neil's side table, she sat in Billy's room for what seemed like a mere second. As soon as she heard Neil's truck pull up, she made sure Billy's blanket was secure over his shirtless, jacket-wearing self and rushed out of the room into her own bed and pretended to be asleep. Her mom checked on her as she assumed, and Neil checked in on Billy. As soon as they were settled for the night, lights out, she quietly snuck back into Billy's room, staying behind the door in case a surprise visitor decided to check in.
But she hadn't expected Billy to get up in the middle of the night to piss and hack his brains out. She didn't expect to have to clean up vomit either. But she supposed that's why she was there–to keep him out of trouble. Like a sister would… Heck, she had even thought up a plethora of cover stories in case Neil or her mom asked questions. Believable ones, she thought. Like, Billy went to bed early because he wasn't feeling well. Or they both got bored and decided to spend the night in their rooms, and Billy had lifted weights most of the night–and she'd even add an "Ugh, so annoying" just to layer it on thick. She remained vigilant–not only for Billy, but for any small sounds that would indicate her mom or Neil was up and roaming.
She did everything she could to keep Neil from being suspicious of anything, even if that meant cleaning up Billy's literal mess. She didn't expect any form of thanks from him, but instead of Billy just laughing at her story, that would've been the perfect moment for him to say thank you. Sure, she already knew Billy sucked at any form of gratitude. But to kick her out over one simple question? What a jerk!
She'd been up ever sense, still unable to shake that feeling of being vigilant. She couldn't take the risk of falling back asleep and letting them catch on. Even now at the dining table eating the special New Year's Day brunch her mom spent hours cooking, her eyes were heavy as though dragging her face towards her plate. She kept her head down so that maybe they wouldn't notice the bags under her eyes, but also to avoid eye contact with Neil. Even one look made her feel as though he'd be able to see right through her–to know something happened.
Billy was the last to join the table–nothing new there. But it was as if they were both on the same page. She sat next to Neil and he sat across and she figured it was because they'd both had the idea that it would keep Neil from noticing any lingering smells of booze on his breath. Billy's hair was damp from the shower. He had taken an aspirin upon her suggestion so that the lights wouldn't bother him, and she didn't even spare a glance at his annoyed, "No shit, Captain Obvious. You think I don't know how hangovers work?"
Neil didn't seem to pay any attention to the fact that they had switched places, and Max was relieved that she couldn't really smell any noticeable alcohol wafting from Billy anymore. Not like before anyway…
Still, Billy looked more tired than a marathon runner at the end of a grueling race. And if she watched long enough, she noticed him squint from time to time at the afternoon and overhead light. But to her surprise, Neil looked just as exhausted, like he'd woken up only seconds ago. She supposed she was grateful for their parent's long night out. It made him less alert.
Her mom seemed to be the only one at the table who looked bright and awake. Then again, she had plenty of practice with running low on sleep just to get up and go to work or cook for them.
Susan smiled. "Happy New Year, you two! So," she said, looking between Max and Billy. "How was the show, you guys?"
"Boring," Billy said quickly, looking down to eat his food. "No different than any other fireworks show."
Billy exchanged a knowing glance with Max. He tried to sound level, though they both knew the truth. Earlier, he warned her to keep her trap shut and say as little as possible. They both knew she was a terrible liar.
"Humph," Neil grumbled, cutting his sausage patty. "You should be lucky you even got to go out with the car. Speaking of…" He took a bite of his sausage, chewing quickly like a cow with his mouth wide open. "You need to re-park the Caemero to one side of the garage. Don't know why the hell you decided to park crooked in the damn center of it."
Billy cocked a brow before flashing Max a curious and annoyed glare as if to say, "Really?"
She simply gave the faintest shrug. Still, why the hell would Neil care about that? He never parked in the garage. Unless he wanted Billy to move the car in case he wanted to hide his stupid truck in there again. The dick. The fact that he even knew of Billy's—or Max's—poor parking job… He must have checked to see if Billy put the car back last night.
"Yes, sir," Billy eventually said.
Brunch didn't last much longer after that. Susan asked only a few more questions about the fireworks, which were simple enough to answer: Yes, the show was fine… No, it didn't last that long… No, I didn't see my friends there, unfortunately.
"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that," Susan said. "But hey, how about we continue the fun with a family movie night? Neil thought we should. What do you all say?"
What did they say? Did they even have a choice? They knew they didn't.
Max shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't mind, whatever everyone else wants."
She glanced at Billy, waiting for his answer, and she did a double take at the way his mouth had popped open, his eyes staring at her mom in shock. His fork had stopped halfway to his mouth.
Right, Max thought, suddenly realizing. Billy hadn't heard about Neil's movie night proposal. Sure Max told him Neil wanted a family day, which often meant they'd go out to a family diner or something, but they rarely, if ever, had movie nights.
Billy worked to school his features by shoving the bite in, somewhat aggressively, Max thought, and his eyes jumped to Neil and then down at his plate. He chewed slowly as though in thought. His jaw was clenched tight by the time he swallowed, and it was like the other night all over again. As though Billy was seeing firsthand the way Neil was still covering for what he did. Max's agreement had been out of obligation–not being able to say no, but Billy, on the other hand, decided to make the most of it.
"Action movies for me, then," he said. Might as well enjoy it.
Brunch came to an end, and Neil reminded Billy to move the car. Max, though exhausted from the previous night, decided to tag along. She knew she should be heading to bed, but there was something about yesterday, their rare moments together like that, that made her want to savor her time with Billy. Besides, what kind of sister would she be if she didn't make sure he was alright and pulled through this hangover without a hitch? She'd come this far. What was a few more minutes?
Billy swung the backdoor open and headed down the wooden steps. But as soon as he heard the door reopen behind him, he whirled around.
"Why are you following me?"
"'Cause there's nothing else to do," Max lied.
Billy scoffed and continued down the steps. "Go back in the house, Max. I don't know why you have to follow me for this."
"Why? I'm not even bothering you. Besides, one of us has to make sure you're not totally smashed anymore. It's called being responsible."
Billy couldn't resist teasing, "Yeah, so responsible. Cleaning up vomit really makes you number one."
Max's eye twitched. Annoyed by his remark, she retorted, "Humph. Well, at least I didn't stick my tongue down Birdie Gallager's throat. Seriously, you'd think you were a momma bird or something feeding her your nasty tongue. Heh, get it? Bird…."
Billy's stopped mid-step. His eyes widened in horror as he replayed the hazy memories from the night before. Did he actually attempt something so horrifying? Tonguing Birdie? No way in hell could anyone pay him to kiss that brace face. His stomach curled, and he wondered if he'd actually puke again. Panic washed over him as he tried to recall the details. Hell, what if those bastards at work had seen him doing that? He wouldn't hear the end of it come next shift. The thought left him feeling incredibly mortified and puzzled.
"Tell me you're joking," he said, the flustered look still in his eyes.
"Of course I'm joking," she snarked, walking past him on the steps.
Billy's brows only furrowed more. "Hey shit bird, don't leave me hanging here! Did I or did I not deep-throat Birdie fucking Gallager?!"
Max scrunched her nose at his choice of phrasing. But when she turned to see Billy staring, a mix of sternness and panic on his face, she just let his question hang in the air for a moment. It was a little bit of hard-earned joy seeing him be the one to squirm. "I'm actually joking," she specified, finally.
All at once, a wave of relief flew over him, evident by the heavy sigh that left him. Max raised a brow in amusement but then shook her head. Sure Birdie was a high school girl with questionable quirks and hygiene, but she wasn't that bad, Max thought. Yet it looked as though he was willing to yank out his own tongue if she'd confirmed that he did tongue her. She technically didn't know for sure, and after seeing him in that state last night, she wouldn't doubt it if he had done it. Better to just let him believe otherwise though…
Billy continued to welcome the wave of relief, giving another sigh and rubbing at his still throbbing temples. Max raised a brow, still amused, but then frowned, and Billy did his best to ignore her stare, again. He reached into his breast pocket for his lighter, suddenly craving a smoke. But he froze when he didn't find it in there. Or in his pants pockets. "What the hell?" he said, patting his back pockets. "Where the hell's my lighter?"
"Oh yeah." Max pulled it from her coat pocket, giving Billy pause.
"Why the hell do you have my lighter?"
"So you wouldn't burn us down in the car. Here."
She outstretched it to him. For a moment, Billy didn't move. Then slowly, he took it from her but stared at it in his palm. Somehow, the lighter seemed to ignite that feeling of missing time again. His mind was still a black fuzzy emptiness where he knew there should be memories of the things Max was saying. The more he learned—or didn't learn by her lying about that Birdie crap—the more uneasy he got. The more annoyed he felt for not remembering. He knew there was still a lot more he didn't know, and he felt he needed to or he'd go crazy.
"What else happened last night?" he asked, his voice level.
Max shrugged after a slight pause. "I told you most of it. You were drunk so I drove us home and put you to bed."
Billy remained unmoved. "What else?"
She shrugged. "You chugged a bunch of beers, stumbled around, almost broke the lamp—"
"You said I said some things."
Her expression changed, her eyes averting. "Nothing much."
Billy cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips. He knew she was lying. He burrowed his gaze into her until she shifted uneasily.
"What? You just… said a bunch of gibberish…"
"Like what? What did I say?" Billy pressed, a mix of curiosity and trepidation in his voice.
"I already told you. You called me names and complained about being hot, complained about a lot of things actually…look why does it matter?!" Max replied, her tone steady, but she couldn't meet his eyes for long—his stare always saw right through her.
"Max, don't bullshit me. I know you're not telling me something. Now, what did I say?!" Billy pressed again, growing more angry and insistent.
There was a pause as Max contemplated on what to tell him or how much to reveal. She bit her lip, trying to think of the words to use to maybe not reveal everything. He saw her hesitance and growled, "Just spit it out, already!"
Finally, she gave in. "Ugh, I asked you about your necklace. And you told me your mom gave it to you. Said it was to protect you," she admitted.
Billy was shocked, his expression betraying his surprise. His mouth fell open. At the same time, his fist gripping the lighter fell to his side. His eyes went wide, and Max couldn't be sure, but it looked like color was tinting his cheeks.
Max continued, "I know you don't like talking about her, so I stopped asking questions then. I didn't think you'd want me knowing that stuff, especially when you were drunk out of your mind."
He realized she was telling the truth and felt a strange mix of relief that she didn't ask more. If she had, he might have exposed the truth.
Still, he wanted to drill further, to see if she was still hiding something, but he stopped himself. After hearing what she said, he didn't want to know, afraid of what might have slipped out of his unfiltered, drunken mouth. Afraid an ugly truth would come back to bite.
"Yeah well…it doesn't take a genius to figure that out," he mumbled, his tone expressing the lingering dissatisfaction.
Max bit her tongue at the snark and just nodded. She was unsure what was going through his head, but if his tone was any indication, she could only imagine. Especially if he was thinking about all the things he didn't say.
She had decided to tell the truth. At least part of it. And even though he was letting it go, his frown told her another story–he was unsatisfied. In fact, she could see his mind working overtime on the subject. But she felt slightly guilty. She didn't want to bring up his outburst about Neil or how he admitted to being afraid of him or that he compared her to his mom. Didnt want to bring that to him. He may never tell her anything again (or anything in his own time). Might even be mad and say she lied. He'd deny it, deny that he'd ever said anything so vulnerable.
Finally, the two made it down the steps, the mood slightly lower.
As soon as he opened the garage door, he winced. Billy slowly shot Max a perplexed look, a subtle mixture of disbelief and annoyance in his eyes as he glanced at her less-than-ideal parking job. The wheels were crooked and the entire nose of the car was at an angle. Like the driver didn't even try to make it straight. How the hell had Neil not pitched a fit during brunch at the state of this parking job? It looked like a drunk man had parked the car… literally. But then, as he peered around the other side, he blinked at the pile of salt bags that looked haphazardly tossed about on the floor. He threw Max a questioning glance.
"What?" she said with a shrug. "I was in a rush, and I've never parked in a garage before. It was already crooked so I knocked over the salt bags to make it seem less… suspicious. You know… like it was lazy parking."
He continued to stare.
"Hey, don't give me that look! I thought parking in the middle was safer so I wouldn't scratch the car. You and Neil would have been mad if I did that or left it on the street."
Billy shook his head and entered the garage. "That's the last time you drive my car."
He flicked his keys and opened the driver door. Then jerked. "What the hell…" He leaned in, only to come out turning the box of condoms front and back like he'd never seen it before. He figured Max would gripe her disgust by it like she always did when she found or heard something "adult" of his, but to his surprise, she seemed unphased by the sight of them. "Why the hell is this up here?" he said. He paused, a sly smirk brimming. "Did I–"
"Ew, no! I was in the car with you, idiot! You really think that would fly with ME in the car too, Billy? You gave it to me so I could reach the peddle when driving."
His face fell and he stared at the box in disappointment. He glared at it, and then at her because of course she'd also be a cockblock as well as a brat stick.
"That's the last time I take you with me when I plan to drink," he mumbled.
"Not like I wanted to be there…" she mumbled herself.
He ignored Max's gripe, counting his lucky stars that Neil didn't see the box during his garage check—he didn't even want to imagine the questions that would be pummeled into his already aching head.
Billy leaned back into the car and popped open the trunk to return the box. In an instant, a wave of panic flooded over him as he realized his mistake.
Max, who was still standing behind the car, instinctively turned, seeing something red inside. She grabbed hold of the trunk and opened it without a thought.
"Wait, Max!" he called desperately.
But it was too late.
Max stood frozen, hand still on the hood as she stared into the trunk, her jaw hanging to the pavement beneath her. And there, among the clutter of wrinkled, cut-off tanks, a grass-stained pair of sneakers, a broken weight, and a waterlogged notebook, was an unmistakable blowup doll, dressed in its red swimsuit with a whistle around its neck. Despite knowing Billy had a reputation for "getting down a dirty," that was the last thing she expected to find in her brother's trunk.
Max burst into laughter, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. As Billy finally rushed over, he pushed Max to the side and away from in front of the trunk, but she didn't care.
"Billy, why–!" She couldn't finish the sentence from laughing too hard. She tried again. "Why on earth is this doll in your trunk?" She couldn't contain her amusement.
Billy's face turned beet red as he threw in the box of condoms and fumbled to remove the doll from his trunk. He could hear Max's uncontrollable laughter echoing through the garage, and embarrassment flooded over him. "It's not what it looks like," he stammered, desperately trying to shove the doll into a nearby garbage bag. When it struggled due to the air, he gave it a solid punch into the bag, and the whistle of air blew up into his face, making him growl in frustration. But his efforts were futile as Max's eyes widened with curiosity. He yanked the ties on the bag closed so harshly, they looked ready to snap at any moment. He gritted his teeth, and it only made his head throb more.
She couldn't contain her amusement, watching her brother Billy frantically try to get rid of it. "Been real lonely huh, Billy?" she teased,
His cheeks flushed crimson, whether from embarrassment, anger, or both, she couldn't tell at this point.
He pointed. "Get in the house!" He hastily tied off the bag and shooed Max away, all while keeping a watchful eye on the inside of the trunk.
"Why? I'm just curious about your friend," she said, stifling a laugh.
Billy tossed down the bag and dove right back into the trunk, desperately shoving something back. "I told you, it is not what you think."
"I think the doll by the box of condoms begs to differ."
Billy shot her a look of poisonous daggers. Jaw clenching so hard, she was sure she heard it crack. But he quickly turned away from her, fluffing a black wool blanket and tossing it back in—to hide any other embarrassing things no doubt—before slamming the trunk shut. He brushed past Max as she stomped back over to the driver's side, kicking the protruding trash bag on the way.
"Those damn bastards I work with must have done this. Ugh, I'm gonna kill them…" he muttered under his breath.
"So what are you gonna do with it?" Max continued to tease.
"Max, just get in the fucking house!" he said, tone fierce and angry. He was still blushing. In fact, his entire face was red now, all the way down to his neck. She'd never seen him turn that color, or be that embarrassed. Maybe not at all when she thought about it. He was always the confident, or perhaps cocky, one who never seemed to let things get to him. Nothing penetrated his shield. He asserted control over any situation, even she could admit that. But this? It was an entirely new side of him, and she couldn't help but want to be that bratty sister.
"Guess this explains why you didn't want me looking in the trunk? Didn't want me to see your girlfriend?" She chuckled, unable to help herself from poking him a little bit more. Payback, she thought, for him mocking her before.
Billy's frustration and embarrassment surged, and he couldn't hold back his irritation any longer. "I swear, Max, you never listen! It's like talking to a brick wall half the time! It's beyond annoying–not to mention frustrating as hell! I can't even have a normal conversation without you turning it into some kind of misunderstanding! It's like I'm stuck forever having petty arguments with my stupid sister!"
Max's smile and laughter stopped. Her smile faded and she stared at him in shock. What did he just say? Did… did he just say what I think he did? Billy continued to rant without missing a beat, but the ringing in Max's ears drowned everything but one word out:
Sister.
He didn't even notice he said it. But she did, she noticed, and it sent something fluttering through her. It was one thing to say it drunk, but another when sober.
"Billy… Billy, you just–"
"What?!" he snapped angrily, whirling around with the driver's door swung open.
Max looked like a deer caught in headlights. She said nothing, still too stunned.
Billy let out a heated breath, flicking his arm in frustration. "Just get in the house!"
He plopped into the car and slammed the door, furiously starting the engine. As the exhaust fumes began to burn her nose, Max turned on her heels, still in shock. But with each step up to the house, her smile couldn't help but widen.
To be continued…