A/N: Merry Christmas! There will be a short update next week on Sunday :)

Scour

Max tore through her room like a hurricane. And even by the end of all the destruction, the tickets still hadn't turned up.

About 15 minutes ago, Billy stood out in the hall, tapping his foot impatiently as she rampaged.

"Max, what the hell are you doing in there? Hurry up. I need to finish my workout."

His words sent her reeling. There he was waiting on her, waiting on the "surprise" she'd planned to give him. A surprise she'd have to just play off like a complete idiot all because the tickets weren't where she freakin' left them!

She tried to give another quick look through the scattered mess, trying to convince herself the white box was there somewhere–that just maybe somehow in her flurry of movements, she magically missed it, but she couldn't find it. Max bit her lip in frustration, trying to tame her panicked thoughts. Why isn't it here? I know it was in the closet before… Did I move it? No, couldn't have. I'd remember that… unless… Did I do it in my sleep? Ugh, no… crap! What do I do? I can't just leave him standing out there. I have to give him something… and now! It was the only seemingly rational thought.

Max eyed the various things on the floor but none of them seemed like good choices. So, rubbing her head in frustration, she quickly snatched up the first thing she saw so she wouldn't leave her room empty-handed. It was a shot in the dark, but maybe it would buy her some time to keep looking for the tickets.

"Here," she said, rushing out of her room in a huff, trying to hide the fluster on her face.

She held out a Journey cassette that fell to the floor out of one of the boxes, the one that used to hold the Walkman she'd given Billy. In addition to the Walkman, her dad had given her a variety of cassettes to go along with it—music he thought she'd like. She knew Billy's taste was limited to Rock and Metal, so she figured this would be a safe bet. She handed it to him. "For your workout. Figured you could give Metallica a break."

Billy stared at her outstretched hand holding the cassette, his brows raised like he was trying to piece together some sort of complicated puzzle. He shifted that look to her, and she impatiently rattled it at him with a nod. He shook his head and scoffed. As he swiped it from her grasp, he turned around and stomped down the hall mumbling, "...wasting my damn time… Who even listens to Journey?"

Max blew out a breath and waited until he was just out of sight before whirling around. She popped back into her room, staring at the disaster with wide eyes.

Fifteen minutes later the disaster had only grown. All the contents of her drawers littered the floor–pages crumpled and strewn about. Her comics were in a haphazard pile among the books she'd tossed in her fury. The boxes from the back corner of her closet were now dumped and dented from where she'd shaken them, only leaving old stuffed animals and clothes covered in dust to join the hurricane. Her bed had taken a hit as well, the sheets and pillows yanked off so she could try and flip her mattress to peer under the bed better. But to her dismay… she wasn't strong enough to do it. Which had resulted in it sitting at a weird angle.

But just to be sure, she'd crawled under the bed just in case the box somehow ended up there, even though she had no memory of moving it at all. Carpet burn added to the frustration, and she rubbed at her stinging elbows as her heart raged in her chest. Now, she could only pace, not bothering to avoid stepping on the mountains of things on her floor. A teddy bear squeaked under her foot, and she glared down at it before rubbing at her temples, her fingers moving through her hair as she tried to relieve the pressure. She had no memory of touching the box after that day… and yet it was gone. So something must have happened. Although, she had no idea what… and she didn't have a clue just how long it had been missing.

Did I misplace it? Take it out? No, I'm sure I left it there in the closet. Then where? How?!

Max grabbed her head again, trying to rack her brain as to how or when the box could have disappeared. She was mainly out of her room only twice—for New Year's Eve and the night before that when she hung out with her friends. So what the hell could have happened to them?!

Nothing is private in my house.

Max sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly remembering the words.

Neil.

Could it be? It has to be, right? He was the one who suggested she leave the house. And that night of Billy's beating, the way he asked her about the box in her arms...

What is that..? Show me.

Max stopped pacing and stood stone-still among the clutter, her heart plummeting to the deepest pit in her gut. Shit… Shit, shit, shit! Why the hell didn't she keep it hidden better?! Why the hell had she forgotten the thought of this being a possibility?!

It was like a sinking ship in her gut, the realization that his facade might not have just been for her mom. But to trick her into thinking he was letting it all go. Pretending nothing had happened. His fake cluelessness had been more carefully constructed than she ever thought… Not once had she suspected a thing!

Frustration bubbled inside her at the thought of Neil's grubby fingers all over the box, looking through it, looking at the tickets, throwing them out. Or worse… using them as "evidence" of her running off that night.

No… that wouldn't be the worst of it…

Sure, everything in the box would point to where she'd been. The certificate, the nametag, the Next Level t-shirt… She'd be in major trouble. It showed she was lying. Obviously, he already knew she was, but this could give him leverage. An excuse to punish her—to finish what he first set out to do that terrible night. But what was worse was that it could give him an excuse to punish Billy. Again! Even though he had nothing to do with it, Neil would notice the Metallica tickets and associate them with him.

Something tight grasped Max's chest, sinking into her stomach even more. A storm of anger and devastation flooded her entire body. What do I do? What the hell do I do?

If Neil had taken the box, it could only mean he'd hide it somewhere. A place he didn't think she'd look, or even risk checking, right? Would he have thought that far? How could she even begin to know what he might have done with it? Where could she start?

Maybe…

Max turned to her clock; 5:32.

She looked back to her bedroom door, now opened slightly, so she could see into the hallway. An idea crossed her mind–though not a bright one–but she snagged it, not letting herself chicken out.

Slowly Max blew out the breath she was holding and stepped to the door, yanking it open. She peered down the hall, hearing the clanking of Billy's weights and the low-playing music of Journey from the headsets. (How he wasn't deaf by now, she didn't know). With a final nod, Max proceeded down the hall in the opposite direction toward the master bedroom. Then, she stopped, staring at it for just a moment with her hand on the knob. With a slight gulp, she shook herself into action and opened the door.

The bed was nicely made—by her mother no doubt. Max's heart pounded, her rapid thoughts wondering if she should proceed. Neil had a knack for noticing some things out of place, at least when he was looking for them. So she needed to be careful and make sure she put everything back where she found it.

This was a risk that Max never would have taken if she wasn't desperate to find those tickets. So, this had to go smoothly–anything left out of place would be like an alarm going off.

Max took a timid step inside. She had at most 25 minutes before their parents returned, so she had to make quick work of it.

She tiptoed across the floor toward one of the nightstands, thinking she needed to be careful not to alert Billy, but with the music playing, she figured he wouldn't hear anyway. She felt silly for her nervousness and yanked open the drawer, which she assumed was Neil's based on the army knife front and center–the one her mother had gifted him for Christmas. The tag was still attached. She glared at it, annoyed by his blatant lack of appreciation, and kept her fingers from touching anything. The drawer was basically empty with only a flashlight, a tattered-looking newspaper with the bold headline REAGAN WINS BY A LANDSLIDE, some random coins, some antacid tablets, and a broken security badge.

Max rolled her eyes. Were these really the kind of things men put in their bedside tables? Her shoulders slumped but she tried to have hope–it would be silly for him to put the tickets in his stuff, right?

Her mother's drawer was next. Max wasn't surprised to see the assortment of night creams and lip glosses. Some dog-eared magazines–all the girly ones her mom loved like Cosmos, Vanity Fair, and Better Homes and Gardens. She could only imagine the kind of articles written in those—it made her shudder, and she shut the drawer in defeat. He wouldn't have risked hiding them in that mess.

She dropped to her knees and lifted the bed skirt, peering into the darkness, but there wasn't a single thing stored under the bed. Max frowned, expecting to at least see more of her mother's shoes there… not just soft carpet and dust bunnies. Her stomach twisted, hope fading fast. She sat there for a moment and looked around… Where else could she look? Her eyes settled on a narrow door, and she huffed out a breath of impatience. The closet… It was the last option.

Max's frustration grew the moment she opened the door. It was so perfectly organized… so pristine that she knew she couldn't risk messing anything up. Not to mention it hadn't looked like her of a closet or, heaven forbid, Billy's. No boxes of memorabilia, or useless crap shoved in corners, clothes they didn't wear but kept away. No, her mom and Neil's closet screamed responsible adult… and it also screamed, There are no tickets here! She peered around every coat, every pocket, every dress, and every pair of shoes regardless. Anything to silence that voice in her head that said, What if? No box… no tickets… nothing. Not even under the pillows, or in the trash. It wasn't there.

Giving up her search of the room, she stepped toward the door, but the sound of footsteps made her freeze. Her heart pounded at the thought of being caught by Billy—or worse, Neil—and the last thing she needed right now was him asking questions. She bit her lip and waited until the thumping of his steps stopped and a door slammed. She waited just a moment longer before peeking into the hall, only breathing out in relief when the shower turned on.

Shutting the door behind her, she slowly walked into the living room, glancing at the clock. 5:45. She had roughly fifteen minutes to check a few more places before their parents got back. Having no time to waste, she started in the kitchen.

. . .

Max had given up on the kitchen after five minutes. The cupboards were filled with dishes and endless food packages, which left no room for her white box. Of course it wouldn't be here. The kitchen was her mother's domain… she'd notice anything out of place, so why would Neil risk hiding anything in it?

So, Max decided to rummage through the house, checking bookshelves, tables, and even the chimney. At one point, Billy peered around the corner, his eyes following back and forth as Max traveled briskly from one room to another.

She was elbow-deep between the couch cushions when a grunt to her left caught her attention. Sweat gathered at the base of her spine, and she panted breaths, glancing up to meet Billy's raised brow.

"The hell are you doing?" Billy grumbled.

Max pulled her arm free of the cushion. Just as her mind tried to prepare an excuse, the back door slammed shut.

"We're home!" her mother's voice called out.

Billy apparently took that as his sign to escape by dropping his question altogether and slipping back around the corner and down the hall like some stealthy ninja—here one second, gone the next.

Max cursed to herself, seeing how the cushions were sprawled onto the floor. Given the way she was also sweating, she knew she had to look like a ridiculous mess. Her frustration was palpable, so much so that she could almost taste it. Where the heck did he hide that box? Or maybe just the tickets? After all, they were the most important thing in the box. Ugh… She needed to look harder…

"Oh!" Her mother's startled voice caught her off guard as Max fixed a cushion. Susan's smile faded. She furrowed her brow as she looked at Max. "Sweetie… what are you doing?"

Shoot! I didn't think of this before…

Max chewed her lip as she ran through all of the possible things she could say, and she blurted the one that felt the most like the truth. "I was looking for my favorite pencil. It was… It was the last one from the pack we bought… before school started... I, um, thought it might be in the couch."

"Hmmm… Well if you can't find it, maybe put those back before Neil comes in, okay?"

Facing that brute was the last thing she wanted, so she shoved the last cushion in place while her mom put her things away. As she moved toward the kitchen, Max sucked in a breath, remembering the mess she left behind. Rookie mistake, Max!

"Mom, wait–"

"Goodness, Maxine… did you really think your pencil would be in here?" She turned to her with a raised brow.

Max could have just agreed and let it go. She could have just said she wanted to check all the places and be thorough, but her brain was on overdrive. It was like all reasoning had fled and she was flipping through all of the things she could say. And because she felt like she was under a spotlight with her mother waiting for a response, she just let the first thing on the surface tumble out. "My scissors broke… when I was trying to pry—I mean when I was doing some crafts last night, so I was looking for another pair…"

"Not my kitchen scissors, honey. Those are for food only," Susan said, moving to put away the cups and plates Max left on the counter. "Why don't you go get cleaned up while I make dinner?"

Max, feeling kinda gross from frantically scouring the house, thought about taking a quick shower. But since her mom was distracted in the kitchen and Neil was hidden away in their bedroom, Max decided to sneak off to the basement, thinking maybe the tickets could be found in all that mess. When she couldn't find them there, she went to the garage. She checked every nook and cranny in the small time she had, but no luck.

Max could barely focus the rest of the night. She'd done her best to leave no stone unturned in the house… yet she'd been interrupted by her mother coming in. Then later Neil… That stupid impassive look on his face burned something deep in her gut. How dare he touch my box

Throughout dinner, she kept side-eyeing Neil, angered by his stupid facade, acting oblivious, like everything was normal. But she could never bring herself to say anything, especially with Billy around. Besides, she'd have to out herself if she asked about the box. It would create more problems admitting to her mom that she lied about the camp… So she bit her tongue and held back the venom she wished to spit at him. She couldn't even look at him much longer after coming to that conclusion. She couldn't bring herself to look at Billy either–the faded remnants of his bruises making her guilt bubble and churn in her belly.

Instead, she avoided eye contact with him, too ashamed. And she carried that feeling with her all through the night and with her to bed. Even well into the next morning. How could she be so stupid? So careless?

She felt tired, not having had the best sleep. Her mother and Neil stomping around the house getting ready for work didn't help either. So, she laid there, listening to their muted voices every so often, wondering if there had been something she missed the night before. A spot she'd failed to search. But where else could she have checked?

On most days during the break, Max would wait until the front door closed—a sure sign that her mom and Neil had left for the day—before peeling herself out of the warm blankets, but for some reason, her restlessness propelled her out of bed. The urge to keep looking, to think of a plan had her brain fit to go.

Max tugged on a sweater and some pants before she popped her head from her bedroom. She couldn't hear voices anymore, but decided to head to the kitchen anyway, knowing someone was still in there making noise. She figured it was her mother since Neil never bothered to make his own lunch or morning coffee. Max had no idea what she was after, but she needed to do something to satisfy her brain.

Just as she reached the entry to the kitchen, Neil brushed past, smelling of coffee and aftershave so strongly her stomach rolled. She pressed herself to the wall and he stormed away as though he hadn't even seen her. She glanced back with a glare, watching as he disappeared into their bedroom.

Sighing, Max slipped into the kitchen to see her mother digging in her purse with a frown. She glanced up at Max and blinked. "Oh, sweetheart you're up early. You okay?"

Max licked her lips and shrugged. "Yeah, just wanted some cereal," she lied, fighting off the guilt again. "What are you looking for?"

Susan frowned. "My gloves," she sighed. "I thought I put them in my bag yesterday, but they aren't here. Neil's gone to check the room again… Maybe they're in the truck…"

The truck! Why didn't I think to check the dang truck?!

The idea hit her like a freight train.

Max's heart began to pound. She glanced at the clock; 7:10. Crap! Not that much time

"Oh, well if you can get me the keys to the truck, I can go check for you while you finish getting ready," Max suggested, hoping she would agree. That truck was the one place she hadn't checked yet. How had she not thought of it before?

Susan turned back to cleaning her lunch mess on the counter. "Oh, the keys are already in the truck, honey. Neil was heating it this morning… I think he would have seen them there…"

Max didn't wait for her to say no, so she turned and inched toward the back door. Their bedroom door was shut, so she hoped she had enough time to look before Neil wandered out again. She shoved her feet into her boots, not even bothering to lace them properly or tug on a coat. She flew out the back door and barreled her way down the back steps. Sure enough, Neil's car was on, smoke billowing from the pipes in the back. Her heart was pounding more now than it had last night when she searched their room. It was like going up against a time clock. One that concealed how much time was left.

From the passenger side, she wrenched the door open and peered inside. Nothing obvious was sticking out at her and she tried to fight off the urge to scream by biting on her cheek. Of course he wouldn't just have the box setting there; her mom would ask questions.

She reached for the glove box.

"Ahem."

Someone's throat cleared behind her. Max jolted so hard, she bumped her shin and hissed, spinning to see Neil standing five feet away with a glowering look on his face, his arms crossed over his chest. He glanced inside the truck, then at her, waiting for an answer. His glare suddenly made it feel 10 times colder.

"What are you doing?"

"I… I…" Max stuttered, trying to force the words out of her mouth, the shock still not having left her body. Like any man with a vehicle, Neil's truck was his prized possession. And for her to be caught snooping around in it… "I was just… looking for mom's gloves…"

Before she could analyze Neil's expression to her answer, the back door opened. Susan walked out, bundled in a heavy beige coat with a matching scarf as she waved her gloves.

"Oh, Max, there you are. I found them! I found my gloves!"

Talk about perfect timing.

Max stood frozen, suddenly snapping herself out of it when Neil turned to look behind him. She rushed passed Neil, feeling his eyes burrow into her back as she met her mom at the end of the steps. It wasn't enough… She needed more time. Think, Max, think!

Susan smiled. "They were in my pockets the entire time. How silly of me–"

"I need to talk to you."

"Oh? Well, what do you need, sweetie? You have to make it quick so we're not running late."

Max was at a loss. "Uh…" her eyes darted trying to come up with a quick excuse. Anything that would give her the chance to check Neil's truck again. She could hear Neil move in the background. Then, she lowered her voice just a bit, getting another idea.

"Mom, when are we doing school shopping?"

"School shopping? Honey, you've only been on winter break. It's not like this is the summer."

"Yeah, I know but… you remember how last night I couldn't find my pencil? And that I mentioned my scissors were broken? Well… I'm gonna need more for school, and there's not much time left. So when are we going school shopping? Can it be soon–like today? I really need those pencils… Can never have too many, right?" She gave a nervous chuckle that quickly faltered.

Susan blinked, her mouth opening and closing as she processed. Her eyes glanced toward Neil and back to Max. "Oh…um… Well, maybe I could have him take me after work to grab some for you–"

"No!" Max said, almost too loud. Neil cleared his throat again, and she winced. "It's just that… I need a specific kind. It would be better if I picked them out." She held her breath as her mom pondered that. Then, she smiled a bit.

"Would that be alright, honey?" she called to Neil, "If we go to the general store today for Maxine to get some supplies? I know you need batteries too, and I need to pick up some lightbulbs myself, so maybe we could do it all at once."

Max tried to give Neil the most impassive face possible as he stared at them. He grunted and nodded. "Maybe. Now let's go so we aren't late."

Max sighed, giving her mom a final smile as Susan moved toward the passenger side. She couldn't be positive, but she was pretty sure she heard Neil mumble to her mother, "Can't understand why she doesn't have Billy take her…" She didn't stick around to listen to the rest.

. . .

She was slightly relieved when her mom called telling her to be ready to go shopping when they returned home. Neil was unpredictable and she figured he'd deny her mom's request to take her shopping after, especially being so tired at the end of a workday. But she didn't care about his reason for agreeing. She just had one goal in mind, and she wouldn't let it slip through her fingers.

Max hated riding in Neil's truck, not only because it was cramped but because she had to always sit in the middle. Next to him. She'd always do her best to look straight ahead or down, but never towards him. But now, she looked around for any sign of the box–or the contents that were inside of it, trying not to seem obvious.

Just like that morning, Neil's aftershave was like a clog in her throat, choking the air from her lungs. With him at the wheel, she felt the need to escape. It was a struggle to breathe with him so close. She wanted to rub at her arm, hating the way it had pressed up to his each time they made a turn. She would never get used to that feeling. This trip needed to be worth it… needed to.

A mere 15 minutes to the store felt like hours riding alongside him. So much so Max always felt overwhelming relief whenever they reached their destination. And this time was no different.

Melvald's General Store. It made sense they would go there to get the supplies…

Max had only been here a few times: the first time she arrived at Hawkins and a handful of times with the guys to either buy snacks or drop in to say hi to Will's mom. But the issue she had now was how to search the truck… How would she be able to get the slip on her mom and Neil, but now also Mrs. Byers? Not to mention the place was small, and the shop windows looked directly out to the truck.

Neil pulled into a parking space, cut the engine, and opened the door. A rush of fresh air flew inside. Max took a few moments, inhaling deeply, trying to calm her stomach as it threatened to spill the contents of her lunch.

Neil stepped out with a grunt. "Only general stores in Hawkins… not even a damn Sears."

Susan nodded. "It is kind of a hassle having to go out of town for bigger shopping trips. But I heard from a customer at work that they're planning to build a mall. It should be open by summertime if we're lucky. Won't that be exciting?"

"I guess, but that doesn't change the fact that their selection is small," he said, nodding toward the store. "I'm not sure they will carry anything but number two pencils…" Neil only gave another grunt that sort of sounded like a 'tsk.' "Lucky to find number twos in here let alone anything else."

Susan softened her voice and gave Neil what Max assumed was a reassuring smile. She winced at the sight of it before wishing she hadn't. "Well, we could still check and see. Besides, I'm sure they'll have your batteries."

They got out of the car, Max being the last–resolved that this was her best option. She couldn't help but drag her feet, and when Neil slammed the driver's side door, she pushed the other gently closed, leaving it slightly ajar, satisfied that it didn't give that audible click. If she could find a way to sneak back out, it would make opening the door much easier. There wouldn't be a noise that way.

"Come on, Max."

The bell chimed as they entered. A woman with a brown head of hair and a petite frame was hunched over with her back to them. Max instantly knew that was Mrs.—or Ms. she supposed—Byers stocking one of the shelves. Her voice rang out somewhat muted as she fumbled with something on the shelf in front of her. The high-pitched sound was friendly but somewhat stressed. She slowly began to turn with a giant smile, "Welcome to Melvald's. Let me know if I can help you with any—Max!"

Mrs. Byers suddenly stood as if happily surprised. Max smiled at her, although it was likely more forced than she normally would have given. It always struck Max as funny how she and Mrs. Byers were basically the same height. Almost eye level with one another, but Max knew she'd end up taller–maybe even by next Summer.

"How are you? I haven't seen you around lately," Mrs. Byers asked. Max couldn't help but feel a little awkward at the direct greeting. Or maybe it was Neil staring at her.

"I… Uh…" Max tried her best not to look at him or make eye contact. She cleared her throat. "Winter break has just been a little busy."

Mrs. Byers simply nodded with that genuine smile of hers. Then shook her head as though springing from a trance, as if she suddenly realized her mom and Neil were standing there. She tore her gaze from Max and focused on her mom. "Oh, Susan, I remember you. I don't see you come around here often. How have you been?"

"I'm good, Joyce." It was a polite response, but Max could tell there was hesitance in it. She wasn't really going to go much further than that.

Joyce turned to Neil and that genuine smile faded just enough that Max noticed. Would Neil be able to tell as well?

"Neil, how are you?"

He gave her a small nod. "You got any double A batteries here?" His tone was curt. Max wanted to wince at how easily he dismissed Joyce.

"I… I'm sure we do," Joyce said. She blinked at him as if surprised by his lack of response and raised a brow.

He cleared his throat. "How do you know Max?"

As though happy to be back on the subject, Joyce beamed at Max. "Oh, that's easy. All of Will's friends like hanging out at our house, don't you Max? You know there's this game they all like to play, D and D I think, and–"

Max didn't feel like starting a conversation or even having to stand there listening to Mrs. Byers talk to her mom and Neil. She needed them away from the windows and distracted long enough so she could slip away from them and check the truck. She had thought about just asking for the keys—claiming she forgot something inside—but then she thought back to how Neil had caught her in the truck that morning and thought better of it. Risking his suspicion wasn't worth it. No… a distraction was what she needed.

"Mrs. Byers,'' Max cut in, interrupting her talk about Will and DND. "Can you show us where the pencils are?"

"Oh yeah. Sorry. I tend to get carried away once I get going. Max knows all about that. Let me show you the pencils."

Neil interrupted again, making her stop short. "The batteries?"

"Oh in aisle nine. I can show you—"

"No need. I've got it."

Joyce paused for a moment but then seemed to think better of saying anything else. Instead, she motioned for Susan and Max to follow her. She walked a couple of aisles down and pointed to the wall of pens and pencils. "Did you need anything else?"

"No, but thank you for your help," Susan answered.

Joyce gave a simple smile and nodded. "I'll be up front if you need anything."

As she excused herself, Susan knelt in front of the hanging pencils. Max stood at her side, her eyes trailing Neil as he focused on the back wall, moving down the aisle. Further away from the windows.

"So which pencils did you need?" her mom asked, casually flipping through the various packs. "They all seem the same to me."

Max half listened, occasionally glancing at Neil, then his truck outside. Her window of opportunity was closing. Her eyes settled on Mrs. Byers as she made herself busy at the front counter. Just maybe… she would help. But first, Max needed to send her mom on a wild goose chase for these pencils…

"Uh, I'm looking for… for GraphOut," she said, knowing full well they didn't exist.

"GraphOut? What, like graphite? Don't think I've heard of that kind. Let me see…"

Susan scoured while Max continued to glance at the truck outside. "Mom, could you keep looking for them? I'm going to go to the bathroom."

"Oh, OK. Will do."

Max slipped away, making her way to the front of the store. As soon as she spotted Mrs. Byers stocking cigarettes behind the counter, she quickly approached. She glanced at Neil once more to make sure he hadn't turned back to see her. He was too focused on looking at two different packs of batteries. Max looked back to see Mrs. Byers staring at her with a small frown.

"Your dad's a little… tense."

"Step," Max spat, making sure to put the disgust in her voice. She wouldn't even dream of giving him the courtesy of the "dad" part.

Joyce seemed to catch on, giving a brief look of relief. She curled her lip a little as if matching Max's disgust. "That guy's a real bummer, isn't he? I can tell a bad egg when I see one… and he's rotten."

Max smiled a bit. It was a bit refreshing to see someone else notice how intimidating Neil was. But from her short time being around Joyce, she quickly came to discover she had good intuition.

"Mrs. Byers, do you think you could do me a favor?" Max crouched to her level, keeping her voice low. Joyce, catching on again, quickly glanced around before leaning in and lowering her voice too.

"What is it? Is everything ok?"

No, she wanted to say. Neil is a monster in disguise and I want to be rid of him. But she couldn't do that without creating a much bigger problem. One that likely wouldn't have a solution. Would Mrs. Byers understand though? If she told her that vanquishing a monster would be easy if the public never knew of its existence, but when that monster was human, blending in with society as a whole, it became one you couldn't vanquish—one you were forced to live with and pretend wasn't a soul-sucking demon. Can you see he's the real monster? she thought, but instead of saying it out loud or anything else, she just gave her a short nod.

"Can you keep them towards the back for me? I need to go outside for a second and not have them freak out thinking I ran off." Of course, there was no time to explain the real reason. Max wondered if she should come clean about what she was doing, that way Mrs. Byers wouldn't think she was up to no good… but she didn't have time for that either. It would just have to be enough.

Joyce seemed confused for a moment, contemplating. But after a brief moment, she gave a sharp nod. She slipped from behind the counter and headed towards Susan, who was now standing beside Neil. "Are you finding everything ok?"

"Yeah…" Susan said, never taking her eyes off the endless rows of pencils. "Actually, I'm looking for GraphOut pencils."

"Graph…out? As in graph-ite?"

"Well that's what I thought, but Max asked specifically for GraphOut."

Joyce knitted her brows. "I don't think we—" but in the brief second she made eyes with Max's knowing glance that screamed "Go along with it", she seemed to catch on. "Oh oh, thaaat brand. Well, we get shipments of those and… sometimes we don't. You know sometimes they send us the wrong brands and then I have a whole mess of paperwork. And last week someone had moved them all around to be at the wrong labels and prices… We might need to dig through these a bit to find them… I still haven't been able to sort them all out!

"Actually now that I think of it, they've been doing some recalls on lots of brands… because of trace amounts of actual lead still in the graphite! That brand might not be here this time… But might I recommend the ones over here…"

Mrs. Byers led the two further down the aisle towards the back of the store and slipped into a long spiel that allowed Max to slip out the glass doors, being sure not to chime the bell.

Quickly dashing back to the truck, she softly pried the door open to finish what she started. Starting with the glove compartment. She popped it open and rummaged through, a flashlight in there with papers, each of which she checked under in case the tickets were slyly between. But nothing.

Next, Max rolled up her coat sleeves and reached to check under the seat, even in between. In the pockets on the side of the doors. But nothing. She even checked both sun visors, hoping the tickets would slip from them. But nothing.

Then, after pausing a moment, she quietly clicked the door shut, cursing a little at its light creaking. She went behind the truck and jumped to try to look in the cargo bed. She knew the truck was old and didn't want any more squeaks to alert them from inside the store, so she grabbed onto the side and hoisted herself up, using the tire as her foothold, and peered over the edge. The weight of her leaning on the metal made the smallest of creaking noises and she winced, glancing at the store. It didn't seem like they were looking for her yet, so she turned back. The first thing she noticed was two giant, haphazardly folded blue tarps, weighed down with some freshly fallen snow. If she grabbed it, her fingerprints would definitely show, so she didn't lift them even when she wanted to check everything. There was a car jack and a crowbar, but nothing else. No box… or even a place to hide one.

Max clenched her jaw so hard her teeth clacked. She pressed her lips together to fight off the urge to growl. Her mind was a cacophony of "what ifs" and "why me's". Was it not here? What if she missed a part of the house? Would he have left it at the house at all? What if he really did throw it all away?

She shivered against the new blast of wind and her hands started to ache against the cold metal of the truck. She climbed down and felt her whole body flood with discouragement. The truck had seemed like a sure bet.

Her feet drug as she headed back inside, only opening the shop door just enough to slip through so the bell wouldn't ring. She grabbed a random pack of pencils and scissors so she would have a solid alibi for her whereabouts had they noticed. She didn't even care which kind… she just wanted to leave now.

As she turned into the aisle, Joyce was flashing her wallet, showing pictures of Will. Mentioning how his dad was out of the picture. A deadbeat. Susan nodded but the crinkle in her brow made it easy to tell she wanted to pull away. Neil, on the other hand, looked ready to bust a fuse. His arms were crossed close to his chest, his jaw churning from her ramble. Max wanted to laugh at the sight. What is it you always say about respect? She wanted to ask him. Still… while it was satisfying seeing him be forced to practice his own preachings, she could barely muster a smile. Too disappointed.

"I found them," Max said as she approached, interrupting Mrs. Byers. All three turned just in time to see Max present the scissors and pencils she'd snagged.

Her mom suddenly brightened with relief to see her, happy for the interruption. Even Neil looked up in relief.

"There you are." Susan looked at the pencils in Max's hands. "Oh… is that the right one, honey? I thought you said you needed GraphOut?"

Max blinked and then shrugged. "They don't have them, right? These should be fine."

"Oh, alright. If you're sure," her mom said, inching away from Joyce toward Neil.

"Well," Neil said, uncrossing his arms. "I guess that's it then. We've spent enough time here. We should go."

"Oh, no problem," Joyce said. "Let me get you at the register."

They seemed relieved.

Mrs. Byers led the way and proceeded to scan the items. Neil looked just about ready to go. His face was still red with frustration, his foot tapping on the ground as he watched her slowly scan each item… leaving the batteries were last. Max suppressed a smile.

"Did you find everything else alright?" Joyce asked. She looked at Max from under her eyelashes.

Max pursed her lips. "Yeah," she said but gave a slight shake of her head.

There was the briefest of seconds where Joyce's expression dipped as it fell, a frown denting her customer service smile. Max could tell that softness was just for her–a reflection of the disappointment she felt inside. It was odd. Like Joyce could see it too–could feel it. She wasn't sure why, but it felt strangely comforting to see her display the sympathy she didn't know she needed. She had no idea what Max had been up to and yet Max felt so seen by that one look.

As soon as the bill was paid and items bagged, Susan and Neil nearly scrambled out of the store and into the truck with Max sandwiched between them. Just as Neil started it, Susan groaned.

"Oh no. I completely forgot the lightbulbs for the lamp that broke. So distracted."

"Probably wouldn't have if not for that woman's trap running 90 miles a minute…" Neil grumbled. Max felt a pang of irritation on Joyce's behalf but kept her reaction to herself.

Her mom sighed, hand already on the door. "I'll be right back."

Susan climbed out of the truck and shut the door with an inevitable slam. Neil grumbled under his breath and turned off the engine, leaning back in his seat as he dropped his arm along the door and sniffed.

Max sat completely still. The tension was so palpable she could taste it. And the silence didn't make it any better; it was deafening to the point it rang in her ears, only broken by Neil's grunt and shift in his seat.

It was just them.

Alone.

Max fidgeted in her seat, nearly holding her breath, wondering if she should scoot closer to the passenger door, but thought against it. She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, sure not to turn her head and gain his attention. She could tell only just barely that he was looking out the window, his arm hanging over the steering wheel. Max hated being so close to him with the seat next to her still empty. How long was he going to keep up this new façade, she wondered. What was going through his mind when he pilfered through her room to dig for her box? The more that played that over in her mind, the more she felt it was a violation of her space and privacy.

And the longer she sat there in that tense silence, the more her thoughts threatened to bubble into words. Words wanting to slip from her mouth. This was her chance to know the truth. To know what the hell he did with her—with Billy's— box.

Fear and dread bubbled in Max's gut, a wild mix of emotions threatening to spill over. She hesitated, afraid to let it out, to unlock the onslaught of thoughts she wanted to spew. There was a fear of starting something she couldn't finish, something she knew Neil would all too happily finish for her. Yet, in the silence of the moment, with her heart pounding and the weight of unspoken questions pressing down, this felt like the only opportunity she would get to ask him about it. It felt like the only opportunity to make Billy happy…

Yes. All of this wasn't for her but for him.

Max took a deep breath and held it for just a moment before freeing the captive air. With a final gulp, a last pitiful attempt to bury all the words deep inside, she opened her mouth and let them out.

"My white box is missing. Have you seen it?"

She was careful not to mention the tickets specifically in case there was some off chance he didn't open it, but he had seen her carrying the box. He'd even asked about it. Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard she could feel it in her toes. It was like adrenaline was taking the place of her blood with the speed it raced through her body. She'd done it… she'd opened the can of worms. She looked at him now expectantly, waiting for him to respond.

Neil furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes before briefly glancing at her. "White box, huh? Can't say I know where it is… or what you're talking about."

She clenched her fists in her lap, hating the way his words were dismissive. Final, even. He wasn't even bothering to look at her anymore—like she hadn't spoken at all. It made her gut burn with irritation.

The silence was back, but the tension had grown thick. Was it getting harder to breathe? She sucked in another slow breath, wondering if she should continue. Her mouth decided that she should before her brain did.

"I've searched everywhere in my room… and it's not where I know I put it. That's the only place it could have been…" She closed her eyes for a moment and sucked in a breath as her hesitation bubbled at the surface. But at this point going silent would be worse than having spoken in the first place.

She turned her head toward him to see him gripping the steering wheel. Clear annoyance on his face based on the scowl marring his thin lips. It was like forcing the question out, taunting a coiled snake ready to strike. But it was now or never.

"Did you take it from my room?" Max's heart raced as the question flew from her lips. She tried to keep her composure but the sweat pooling in her palms betrayed her. She continued, "It was there… and now it's gone." Her voice came out slightly shaky as she went just a bit further. "The only way it would have been found… is if someone had looked for it… and moved stuff around…"

Neil finally looked at her, turning to face her directly. Her spine straightened. She dug her nails into her palms as she took in the look on his face. His laxed, almost bored expression from before was gone. That scowl had grown into a warning glare with narrowed eyes that locked onto her face. They bore into her as if they were burning her and she resisted the urge to flinch and scoot away from him. It took every muscle in her body going rigid to stay in place. To hold firm in her question. Even when her brain gave warning signals, Max didn't look away.

Just when she started to squirm, he spoke, his voice low like a hiss. "I don't know anything about your box," he said.

"Well, someone took it…" She kept her eyes locked on him, watching his every move. Looking for his subtle signs of deception. He simply sighed, rolling his eyes as though she was just a petulant child. Her carefully controlled irritation was slipping and she hated that look on his face. Hated how easily he could pretend to know nothing. It didn't fit for anyone else to have taken it. No one else even knew it existed!

He must have been able to see the expression on her face. His voice sounded bored even though his expression was a gleam of malice. "Maybe you misplaced it."

"I know I didn't misplace this box," she snapped, losing control of her emotion for a moment. A moment too long.

Neil cocked his head at her tone. Then rolled his tongue inside his mouth as he churned his jaw. "Watch it, Maxine. I don't care about what you do or don't do with your stuff. But you should be careful who you accuse without any proof. Check. Again."

He turned back, dismissing her once again. She narrowed her eyes. He was treating her like some bratty child and it only made her hate him more.

"I'm being serious. This isn't a joke."

"A joke?" he snapped sharply, the echo enough to make her ears sting. That piercing gaze seared into her face and she watched the tension in his jaw harden as he clenched it with effort. He looked away and growled, "No it's not, is it?" He stared out the window for a moment while she seethed, breathing heavily through her nose. He glanced back. "I'll tell you this only once more. I don't know what you're talking about. And I didn't take your damn box, so stop pestering me about it."

Max's anger surged. She was furious, more than she'd ever been. Maybe even more than at Billy when he shredded her mom's scrapbook, and that was something that surprised her. How could Neil sit there and lie directly to her face? But more than that… how could he care so little? Why was he so set on ruining another thing for Billy?

"That's hard to believe when you pretend that night didn't even happen."

They had a stare-off, both breathing heavier with the intensifying anger. She opened her mouth to speak again but he gave her a single shake of his head—a warning. And his eyes… a gateway to danger.

Despite the metallic tension in the air, his words came out far more calmly than she suspected he felt. He spoke slowly, emphasizing each word. "What, exactly, are you implying?"

She didn't respond. He knew very well what she was trying to say. So when she refused to answer his question, he leaned in, his eyes darkening further as he spit the words at her, "Maxine, you are testing the little patience I have left. If you want to accuse me of something then you better damn well be prepared to back it up. Accusations have consequences. I'd suggest you watch your step."

"But it's not an accusation, is it?"

His chest heaved from the effort to control his angry breaths. "I'm warning you—"

"Stop acting like I'm crazy! I know I left them in my room and—"

"Maxine—" His voice raised, cracking like a whip, but she didn't stop. Couldn't stop the fountain of words spewing from her mouth. He turned to face her, giving her that dangerous look that should have warned her to stop, but she only spoke louder, yelling over him.

"I know for a fact someone went through my stuff. I just want my box back! Now where is it?!"

Neil grabbed her arm and gave her a solid shake, jerking her body in the seat. She tried to yank free with a hiss from the pressure. Her face was ablaze with heat. "Just admit it! Admit what you did and tell me where it is, dammit!"

In one motion, Max flew back, sliding across the seat. Her back slammed against the passenger door, the force so overwhelming it shook the truck and rattled the windows. Her breath shot from her mouth at the impact. A sudden ache shot up her spine, the back of her head throbbing from having crashed into the window. Pinned with nowhere to go.

Neil's grip on her forearm bit into her and he gave a squeeze to regain her attention. It took Max a few seconds to realize he'd pushed her. Her breath–and the fight–instantly left her along with a sharp exhale when he shoved her against the door. She fell silent and stared at him in shock, her heart going so fast she was almost numb from the rushing blood. She tried to pull her arm away, but he yanked it again until she was close enough to see the veins on his forehead throbbing. She couldn't move and only stared at him in disbelief. Her fear was like a tsunami and she tried not to shake, tried to push away the sting of tears at the back of her eyes. He leaned in and pointed a finger at her face, making her pull back in a wince.

His body shook in anger as he spoke through gritted teeth, his voice somehow eerily calm. "I've had enough of your mouth. You're way out of line, little girl."

Her hand was going numb from his tight grip cutting off the circulation. She winced again and yet he still didn't let go. The leather of the seats creaked as she fidgeted and tried to pull away but she was trapped. She couldn't help but see a flash of Billy in that moment. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat but even that didn't work.

"You and this bratty mouth of yours is getting way too comfortable," Neil continued. "This disrespect… and those pitiful accusations end right now, Maxine. Keep pushing me, and you might just finally see what consequences I'm talking about." She winced again and shook her head but he gave her another small shake, his finger only millimeters from her nose. "Go on, keep this up and see what happens. You'll learn one way or another that there's nothing in my house you can get away with, and there is nothing that's private. Nothing goes in or out that I don't know about. Remember that."

Max's entire being rattled to the bone. But even through the trembling, she sucked in a breath and shook her head. "Careful, Neil. It almost sounds like you remember that night after all."

The vein in his forehead pulsed. He pressed his lips together before they curled into a snarl. It looked like a wild animal ready to pounce, and her panic surged into her chest. She wondered if her heart was going to stop just in time to save her, but suddenly the door to the truck swung open and her arm was free. She spun, holding it as steadily as possible, to see her mother carrying a bag. She glanced at Neil to see him holding the steering wheel once more, giving her his usual grimace of a smile. Mask carefully back in place.

"Find what you're looking for?" he said.

"Yeah, and I got the last few. Can you believe it? Scooch over, Max."

The last thing she wanted to do was scoot closer to him. Especially after that display. Her arm throbbed from the ghost of his grip and she held it around her abdomen like a safety belt. She wanted to get out of the truck, but her mom slid right in, forcing her back into the middle. She felt frozen—no—paralyzed. Her head spun from the sheer amount of being jolted back and forth. Her mom buckled her seatbelt and started putting the receipts away in her purse, paying no mind to either of them. Could she not sense the intensity of the air? Did she not see her distress through the window?

Max jumped at the roar of the engine, thinking it matched the way he'd shouted her name. Or the way her heart thundered in her ears, and it didn't stop even as he pulled away from the store.

Not once did she even dare glance at Neil. If anything, she pressed herself up tight to her mother. What would he have done if she hadn't come back right at that moment? Would he have done more than shake her? Should she tell her mother what happened? She seemed so unaware, that Max wondered if she'd even believe her…

So she kept quiet, trapped there in what felt like her cage. A helpless prisoner with no freedom, no voice, no hope. A useless little girl with no sign of the tickets…

For 15 minutes, it took everything not to give in and cry.

To be continued…