This story is NOT left incomplete. The remaining chapters are being written as we speak. (May 5, 2024).
A/N: I'm still alive, I promise. This was another chapter that should have probably been split up, but… that didn't happen :P Enjoy!
The Reckoning
It was well past eleven when Billy finally decided to emerge from his room. Max peeked around the corner as he zombily walked into the kitchen, scoping out the fridge as he always did. It was a strange habit of his to signal to his brain that it was morning—like the fridge light would somehow conjure up a breakfast spread from the raw eggs and milk. It had annoyed Max before, but right now, she used it to map his movements, searching for the opening she needed.
She'd waited all morning, running several scenarios in her mind of how she should go about project "Mom-nipulation: tell Billy about Wendy and possibly convince him to call his mom without unleashing the Rage Monster." She gripped the wall.
I'm going to give him the number today… or tomorrow… or maybe Monday… Maybe…
Max shook her head. No, I can't do that.
The last thing she wanted was to make the same mistakes she did with the tickets. She couldn't wait that long. Something could happen—something always did—and the longer she waited, the more Neil was likely to find out. And not only that, Wendy might also call again… and someone else could answer, which could give her away. She couldn't let that happen either. She had to tell him about the call and give the number to him immediately.
And yet…
Billy grabbed the milk and downed it straight from the carton without a thought as usual. There he was without so much as a care in his groggy stupor. Max winced at the way his lips wrapped around the mouth of the carton, a trickle of milk running down the side of his chin. He gave a long belch and haphazardly tossed the carton onto the counter. She rolled her eyes. This seemed to be the relaxed Billy, all things considered. The worst thing she could do right now was start his day by bringing up Wendy, let alone his mom.
Max grimaced at the sudden thought of what might happen if she bombarded him first thing. The images morphing through her head were so vivid–the way his lips would press tightly together to keep from spitting harsh words. His face would turn beet red as he yelled at her to mind her own damn business. If she pushed the number into his hand, would he blow a fuse? Shove it back at her like it caught fire and then scream about how annoying she was? Would he really yell at her this time? Would she have opened the unleashed anger that only seemed to come out when she asked about his mother?
"Maaax… Shut up… or I'm gonna lose it."
Max ruffled her hair at the eerie words. Ugh. Why is this so hard?!
"I can feel your eyes peeling off my skin, creepo. You wanna stop stalking me first damn thing in the morning?"
Max startled at Billy's groggy voice, his back still facing her as he said it. Was her internal freakout that loud?
Billy grabbed his bowl of cereal and turned that half-sleepy gaze to her, appraising her as though she'd coughed on him and given him the plague. With a final glare, he brushed past her shoulder and pulled a chair from the dining table, the legs making a noisy screech on the floor.
She shook her head. Get out of your head, Max. Stop overthinking.
With a calming breath, she came from behind the wall and walked into the kitchen. Max had already eaten that morning when their parents left for work, but she walked to the fridge unsure of what else to do. It would be weird to just sit by him at the table without at least bringing a bag of chips or something—she never just chose to sit with Billy. At least, that's probably what he'd think. It would spike up his suspicions. So, she had to eat something, and it had to be convincing if she had any shot of trying to ease into this plan of hers without setting off his alarm bells.
Or maybe I'm just overthinking again.
Either way, Max decided to make herself yet another bowl of cereal. She wasn't hungry. Far from it actually. She hadn't even tasted her first bowl earlier in the morning. It tasted of guilt and panic. Bitter and somehow like cardboard. She grimaced when she pulled the carton of milk Billy put his mouth over, even though she should be used to it. As she prepared her food, she felt Billy's eyes on her back. A small glance over her shoulder confirmed that he was definitely trailing her from under his long eyelashes. Max held her breath.
Why am I so nervous?
Answering the phone when Wendy called felt like a sign. A golden opportunity to fix her mistake and relieve herself of the guilt that clung to her like a second skin anytime she thought of the missing tickets—of all the terrible things that happened as a result of her getting them. She literally had nothing to show for it, until now. There was a chance, and she wasn't sure how big or small, that Billy talking to his mom again would be better than any tickets could ever be.
Unless of course, it wasn't what he wanted at all. That he would see it as anything but a gift. What did she really know about his true feelings regarding his mom? She had gotten so little out of him thus far. Then again, that night Wendy called at dinner, his reaction to hearing her name was more of shock than anger, right? She hadn't made that up in her mind? It didn't seem like he hated her, and when Billy hated someone, it was pretty obvious to Max. Maybe he'd happily take her number. Maybe he'd just been hoping for an opportunity to catch her when she called. Maybe he'd be overjoyed to have a chance to speak to his mom again. Yeah…
But what if he had no reaction at all?
Max grabbed a spoon and joined Billy at the table. His head was down now as he casually chewed his frosted flakes. Max repeatedly pushed her cereal down into the milk, stealing glances.
How am I going to bring this up to him? she thought. Not only to explain Wendy's proposal to call his mom, but to convince him to actually go through with it. Because the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to get him to actually do it. Not just take the number and consider it. It would be good for him to have at least one positive parent in his life. At least, that's what she hoped.
Yet, Max knew she couldn't outright mention his mother, not after that warning in the car: Shut up or I'm gonna lose it. His mom was a touchy subject. A hair trigger on the best of days. So Max had to ease her way in. Get him to think about his mom—to long for her—on his own (with a little nudge from her, of course). This was going to require a finesse that Max wasn't sure she had when her urge was just to spit it all out at once and rip off the Band-Aid. Maybe with a push in the right direction, she could somehow trick Billy into being the one to bring her up and perhaps even make it seem like calling her was his idea. Or, at the very least, she could try and gauge how open he was to the idea. That way she could decide if she needed to be bold or tiptoe more.
Max wanted–needed–Billy to be happy. But she knew it wasn't something he could achieve himself.
I'm going to give him the numbers today… I just… need to make sure this doesn't blow up in my face.
"It's too early for you to be thinking that damn hard. What, are you trying to figure out the life cycle of cornflakes?" Billy huffed. "If you're plotting some stupid shit over there, then stop it. It's too early and I'm too tired to deal with your crap today, Max. You look like you're at a damn crossroads or some shit."
Max looked up. But Billy didn't meet her eyes. "I'm not plotting anything," she said with a sigh before glancing at the clock. She huffed right back at him, "And it's literally 12 o'clock. Some would call this lunchtime. Not my fault you don't sleep like a normal person."
"And it's not my fault you're a borderline insomniac. Aren't you a little young for a midlife crisis? Then again, those bags under your eyes get bigger every day," he snarked.
She rolled her eyes. Of course he'd wake up ready with insults locked and loaded. "At least I sleep like a normal human. You look like a mummy came back to life after being wrapped for three thousand years."
"Whatever, raccoon eyes."
"Buttmunch."
"Turd."
Billy took a sloppy spoonful of flakes, milk dripping haphazardly back into the bowl. Max scrunched her nose. He didn't look like someone who'd eat cereal, let alone breakfast, but there he was in all his Billy glory. He'd pointed out her "raccoon eyes", yet his poorly cut mullet was skewed in different directions, looking pretty similar to that of a pissed-off skunk. The little divots on his left cheek from his pillow followed by the crust still lingering from drool only added to the zombie effect he had going on. Not to mention he smelled like he had a cigarette as an appetizer.
Watching him eat was even worse than seeing him in this state. Eating dinner had always been normal because at the minimum there was a level of composure to the animalistic way Billy ate when Neil was around. He wasn't as zoned out, sloppy, or downright gross with the slurping sounds. But at breakfast—or brunch or whatever—it seemed like Billy's manners didn't exist. He ate like a ravenous wild animal, and Max wondered if all of the milk would be on the table before he was even done. Not to mention, it seemed weird watching Billy eat cereal of all things.
Sure it was easy and didn't require anything but the skill of pouring stuff into a bowl, but it just didn't fit him. She just couldn't wrap her head around this being the same Billy who drank a beer while lifting weights. Shouldn't he be chewing cigarettes or raw eggs with orange juice while claiming protein was the fuel he needed for the day? Or maybe something normal like some eggs and toast? Then again, could Billy work anything other than a microwave?
Max scrunched her nose again at the memory of him making soup when she'd been sick. He seemed totally out of his element, and that was only a step up from making cereal. The soup hadn't been totally warm, so trusting him to make anything on the stove would be a stretch, right? And as she tried to sift through the memories, she couldn't pinpoint a single time she saw him actually cook something for himself.
"Do you ever cook?"
Billy narrowed his eyes, giving a puzzled glare like he was trying to figure out if she was asking an actual question or just making fun of him. When he raised a brow, she gestured to the bowl.
"The cereal… I mean, is that and sandwiches all you ever eat? Can't you make anything else?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound curious instead of accusatory. "It just makes me wonder how you and Neil got by… before Mom and I came into the picture at least." Shit, Max thought. Of course he had someone helping him get by. His mom. But the words slipped before she could stop herself.
Don't get mad… don't get mad.
Wait a minute… No… This was it. The perfect opportunity sitting right in front of her to ease him into thinking about his mom. And maybe if done correctly, he would even bring her up again and give her the chance she needed to bring up Wendy.
Billy paused mid-bite, his eyes tracing her face as if attempting to dig up a secret. He opened his mouth, then closed it before opening it again. "Takeout and TV dinners. It's not rocket science."
"Sooo neither of you cooked then? I mean… someone had to cook at some point, right? What about when you were younger?"
Billy frowned. "What kind of stupid question is that, Max?"
"I'm just curious," she said with a small shrug. She waited for him to say more, to make some snide remark before giving her an answer, but it never came. She'd meant it as an actual question, but it was clear as he turned back to his frosted flakes that he had no intention of answering it.
Come on, Billy. Give me an inch…
Of course, she already knew the answer. Or at least assumed: his mother. Who else could it have been? She just wanted him to say that.
Max sighed. She needed a different approach. Something to get him interested in the conversation.
Max sat up in her chair, glancing between Billy and his bowl of cereal. "Ok. Then… what kind of meals did you used to have growing up? One of mine was spaghetti with the giant meatballs... and extra cheese. So good. Any favorite recipes you still remember?"
Billy scrunched his face, an odd mix of disgust and confusion, like the thought of recipes or cooking made him want to peel his face off. "Why?"
"No reason," she said, pushing around the flakes in her bowl. "I'm just making conversation. I mean, how often do we have brunch together? Besides" —she shrugged—"at some point, you'll have to cook for yourself. Frosted flakes and cigarettes aren't exactly the breakfast of champions. Like when school starts, you'll need to eat something other than cereal, right? I hardly think the beer and cigarettes pregame followed by milk and sugar are hardly enough to energize you."
She gave a forced chuckle that was mostly awkward since he didn't react whatsoever. She continued anyway. "You have to admit, a lot of people have favorite recipes. Even you, right? Take Mom's chocolate chip cookies. They're the best."
Max paused to gauge Billy's reaction. He had that bored look, eyes still scrutinizing her. She cleared her throat again and took the first bite of her cereal—a little soggy. She wiped her mouth. "But I like some of Grandma's recipes too. I dream of her breakfast casserole sometimes, oh, and her gooey brownies. I thought I was going to get to have some last summer but that didn't work out. I think it's been a little over two years now since I've seen her. Or even talked to her. Maybe I could call her and find out how she made them… I mean, it's always nice to… reconnect with someone who'd love to share some of those recipes. You know, for old times' sake."
Max caught her breath when she peered from under her eyelashes. Billy's spoon hovered over his bowl, his grip suddenly tight, a dark shadow across his face, jaw clenched.
Shit… was that too much of a nudge? Did he catch on?
"Right," he said, "Like that's gonna happen." He dropped his spoon in the bowl with a plop, bullets of milk splattering on the table. "Let's not do this–" he waved his hand over the table "–again. Weirdo…" He pushed himself out of the chair and snatched up his bowl, disappearing into the kitchen one moment, then down the hall the next.
Max's shoulders slumped. It didn't feel like she was off to the best start. She couldn't be sure, but it had felt like a dismissal at the end. One that perhaps edged on mildly defensive, but she couldn't pinpoint if that was because he caught her nuance or if it really was just 'too early' for her to be prodding around in his zombie brain.
Give it some time… and try again. She sighed, both in exhaustion and irritation, because not only was she no closer to telling him about the numbers, but now she also had to clean up Billy's river of milk and cereal left on the table.
. . .
Max had been pouting on the couch for two hours. Not once had Billy come out of his room, and her thoughts were forced to stir. How could she convince him to call his mom if he never showed his face or if he didn't present her with any actual opportunities to talk? So, bored, she'd taken to flipping channels. And by luck or fate or whatever magical coincidence, she happened to land on the one channel playing This is Elvis. A theatrical documentary on the life of Elvis Presley.
Her mind instantly flew to the past, to that first time Billy had given her the smallest nugget of information about his mom. She was a fan of Elvis—well, technically he told her she listened to one of his songs on repeat, but still... This could be another opportunity. Perhaps she could grab his attention with the documentary somehow. Would he even care? He'd stopped by the Elvis section that one day in the record shop after all, like a swarm of memories had come to haunt him. Maybe this would be the golden ticket she needed to mention everything.
She smiled to herself and turned up the volume, hoping to lure him out. It was worth a shot to see if she could get that opening she needed from Billy. And sure enough, the second the music roared through the living room loud enough to make Max jump a little, Billy's bedroom flung open. She quickly fumbled to turn it down as he appeared in the living room, looking thunderous.
"Max, turn that shit down!" he yelled.
"Oops," she huffed in an attempt at laughing it off like she didn't do it on purpose. And he was one to talk since he always blared the TV during his workouts. But she didn't argue. Instead, she turned to him, but his focus wasn't on her. It was on the TV screen. Her heart pumped. She turned the volume down, and he glanced back at her.
"This, um, is really interesting so far," Max said. "It's about Elvis' life. Did you know that Graceland is a museum now?"
He blinked and stared, that bored expression still on his face. But she could have sworn there was a flicker of something in his eyes when Don't Be Cruel started playing. He glanced at the TV, but she couldn't let it stop there.
Just another push.
"Did you watch stuff like this growing up? Documentaries on musicians or anything? Maybe with anyone?"
"No." His tone was clipped, his jaw firm. His defenses were up, and it was clear by the tension in his shoulders that he was wired tight.
Well, this isn't going the way I wanted. Definitely not how she'd seen it in her head. Max backpedaled, easing up on the push. She needed him to relax and put down those defenses. Otherwise, she'd never get in (or make any progress).
"You know they filmed his concerts in Vegas before he died? That's what they said on here."
Billy scoffed, tension unchanging. "What the hell is with you today? What, did you just crawl your little pea brain out of bed thinking 'Let me annoy Billy with 20 questions today'? It's a lot, even for you."
"I just… thought it was interesting…" she said, feeling herself sink further into the couch as her attempt began to freefall where it would crash and burn on the ground. Her mind scrambled for a way to fix it, to get him to stick around. "Well, if you wanted to watch it, or something else… we could… I won't talk."
He snorted, "Yeah, like that's possible. I'd rather go deaf than listen to this shit." He turned but glanced at the TV once more before scowling and stomping back to the room.
Max's stomach twisted at the thought of her failing this entire thing before she'd really gotten started. Two attempts down and so little time left.
Max stared at the spot he'd been standing for another few minutes as she let herself accept that she had no idea what to do next. For a second, it seemed like Billy was interested; at least, that little blip of something in his eyes made it seem that way. Like back in the record shop—as if a far-off memory had come rushing back.
Max stood, intending to turn off the TV. Instead, she sauntered down the hall, heading to her own room to brainstorm. But something caught her eye. The something that gave her just a little glimmer of hope that perhaps she was on the right track after all.
Billy's door was cracked open.
Is he listening to the documentary? she wondered. And then that little part of her brain that housed her occasional genius sparked an idea. What if the thing she needed was to immerse him in the very music that made him think of his mother, just like it had in the record shop? Yeah, Max thought, nodding to herself. That could work. But how would she get access to something like that?
She glanced at the clock and the ball of anxiety tightened in her chest. She had mere hours before their parents would be home, and her day was shortening by the minute. Time wasted while she floundered through her ideas. Even if she grasped onto an idea, who's to say it wouldn't be another wasted attempt? Not once had Billy even seemed close to saying the word "Mom". Nor had there been any blatantly obvious signs he was even thinking of her. The little flicker from before could have been anything.
Maybe he just doesn't care…
No, that didn't feel right either. If anything, she thought he might care too much. Why else would it be such a touchy topic for him? The way he spoke about her in the past, both sober and drunk, was more than enough for Max to see that underneath that tough disinterested exterior was someone who missed their mom. Why else would he still wear the necklace? Why else would he sometimes seem triggered by a memory and be lost in his thoughts? People who don't care don't do those things.
She nodded to herself. It was settled in her mind. She was going to find a way to get him the music, but she had no idea where she would find an Elvis cassette. No way in hell would Neil ever have one in the house. The one time Elvis appeared on TV during a movie, Neil had made sure everyone knew just how much he found his gyrating distasteful. Not to mention the fact that he "couldn't understand why he's singing and dancing like a colored man".
The only person she could think to ask was Lucas. Max peeked down the hall, then went to the phone. It rang a few times before a snippy voice answered, "Hello?"
It was Erica. Max hadn't exactly met her yet, but the horror stories about her from Lucas made her feel like facing a Demogorgon might be a more pleasant experience. Oddly, that only led Max to believe she might have found a kindred spirit in Lucas's tiny, fierce tornado of a sister.
Max glanced around just to make sure Billy hadn't snuck up behind her. "Is Lucas around?"
"He's not here," she sneered, "but if you happen to catch him, you let him know that the next time he steals my pudding, he can expect a culinary curse that'll turn his taste buds against him and give him a one-way ticket to a porcelain throne!"
Max blinked. Erica might just be mouthier and more ruthless than she was. She chuckled, "Sure Thing." Then hung up.
That only left two places Lucas could be. Will's or Mike's. She tried Mike first, figuring it was as good a shot as any with his basement being the place they normally hung out. She called, bouncing lightly on her toes while she waited. Was it just her edginess or were the minutes ticking by faster than normal?
"Hello?" Mrs. Wheeler answered in what sounded like an exasperated tone. "Sorry, hold on. Boys! Stop yelling so much! Okay, hello?"
"Mrs. Wheeler, it's Max. Is Lucas there? I need to talk to him."
"Oh, yeah honey, hold on one second. Lucas! Phone call!"
Max couldn't help but roll her eyes when groans and hoards of complaints erupted in the background. She heard the word 'game' and figured they were right in the middle of something good.
Dustin yelled, "If that's Erica, tell her to stop calling! We don't have any pudding!"
"And if it's your mom, ask if you can stay a while longer! We just started this dungeon!" Mike said.
Someone grumbled as the phone shifted. This time, Lucas spoke. "Erica, is this you? I already told you–"
"It's Max," she said, cutting him off.
"Max?!"
The guys blared her name in the back like ricocheted echoes. "Is she still confined?" one yelled, but Max drowned them out.
"Listen, I have a huge favor to ask and it's gonna seem weird, so don't ask."
"Oh, uh, sure."
"Does your mom have any kind of Elvis cassettes, vinyl, anything? Like with Suspicious Minds on it?"
Lucas snorted, "Seriously? Duh. What woman doesn't have something of his lying around? Shit, even listens to him." He paused. "Um, did you wanna borrow it?"
"Yeah, can you bring it today? Like… as soon as possible?"
There was another pause, some muffled voices, followed by a few groans before Lucas answered, "Yes, be there shortly!"
. . .
Max watched through the windows as she waited for Lucas to show up. She had no idea how long it would take once Lucas had hung up, and she didn't want to look at the clock anymore. Billy hadn't emerged from his room again, and for the first time that day, she was glad about it. She was sure he'd take one look at her and know she was up to something.
An hour passed when she did a doubletake out her window. Mike and Dustin raced on their bikes, trying to kick at one another while pedaling. Lucas trailed behind along with Will. Max sighed. The last thing she expected was for the whole entourage to show up.
When they began looking for her, she carefully opened her window as silently as possible before sticking her head out to beckon them over while shushing them. They got as close as they could on their bikes without leaving marks in the grass. Mike and Dustin hung back a bit, but it was the latter voice who spoke up first.
"I'm guessing you're still on house arrest."
"Obviously," Mike snapped. "Otherwise, she could have come to us, which would have been sooo much more convenient by the way," he said looking at Lucas.
"Hey, I told you guys you didn't have to come," Lucas said.
"Well, how can we finish the campaign if the freaking dungeon master bails?"
Dustin stepped forward, interrupting their squabble. "You ready for the break to be over so you can hang with these losers?"
Mike shot him a dirty look while Lucas only rolled his eyes.
Will chuckled. His voice was quiet yet still reached her ears. "Pretty sure you included yourself in that as well, Dustin."
"Yeah," Max said with a smile, then sighed. "It's boring here. Besides, I missed your stupid arguments."
"Hey, our arguments are completely justified," Lucas said.
"And did that really warrant interrupting the campaign? Which, I'd like to point out, you missed." Mike huffed but then smirked. "It was gnarly. Dustin got eaten by a goblin. Who even does that?"
Dustin gave a dramatic gasp, "You led me into a trap!"
Lucas shook his head and slid in so that he was at the bottom of her window. He pulled the cassette from his pocket and handed it to her.
The boys' eyes widened as the half-whispered arguments came to a screeching halt. Max tried not to wince at their looks of betrayal.
"This was the emergency?!" Mike barked.
"Since when do you like Elvis, Max?" Will asked, raising a brow in confusion.
Dustin's head hung, but then he just sighed, turning to Lucas. "Yeah, you couldn't wait until Monday to give this to your girlfriend?"
Lucas blushed. "She's—look, just shut up."
Max felt her face heat at their taunts, but she couldn't help but smirk all the same. Lucas looked back up at her with obvious strain as he tried to ignore their friends behind him.
"Thanks for this," she said and laughed when Lucas landed a kick at Dustin's shin for making kissy faces.
"Just uh, bring it to school Monday if you don't mind. My mom will kill me if she finds out anything happens to that tape."
"For sure," she said, glancing behind her. "I gotta close this before Billy hears me talking to you all. I'll see you on Monday!"
"Lucas, let's go! My mom is getting pizza!" Mike shouted, pedaling off after Dustin.
Max started to close the window but waited to watch them all ride off, wishing she could be on her board tagging along. Will waited for Lucas even as Mike and Dustin began to race one another down the street. Will scrutinized Lucas as they began to peddle away.
"Since when do you like Elvis?" he asked. Max smirked as she heard Lucas try to defend himself before closing the window. She didn't want to watch them disappear out of sight. While she wanted to be with them, she couldn't focus on her missing out. Not when she still had Project "Mom-nipulation" to focus on.
The cassette felt heavier than normal in her hand. It felt as though she was at a crossroads in her plan—one that was sure to blow up in her face regardless of her method of execution. And an execution this might very well be because, not willing to risk using their parents' radio, she decided the best way to get Billy to listen to Elvis was through the Walkman. And putting the tape in the Walkman was like setting a trap for a bear. She just had to make sure she knew how to properly play dead or perhaps chew off her arm to get away.
She tiptoed to her door even though she could still hear the TV playing a loud western movie. Somehow her brain told her that to pull this off without getting caught, she needed to sneak. Max made only a small crack in her door so she could peer outside to see if Billy's door was still open. Her heart gave a little flip of excitement when she saw that it was, and not only that but it was wide open. He wasn't inside at all.
Max stuck her head out further and glanced down the hall. Billy stood by the TV at an odd angle, like he'd been walking until he was sucked in. His back was facing her, and she knew this was her moment to risk it all.
Biting her lip, she rushed as soundlessly as possible across the hall and into his room. The Walkman lay ditched on his bed and her fingers trembled as she switched out the cassettes. She left the Metallica one on the nightstand between his phone and alarm clock so he wouldn't immediately spot it. Then, she made sure to fast-forward the tape to Suspicious Minds.
Her heart raced inside her chest, and she was sure it would come up her throat at any moment. With a quick look down the hall, she saw Billy flipping through the channels. Max pushed back into her room and closed the door. She leaned against it for a moment to catch her breath. Her stomach rolled with uneasiness at her decision, but it didn't compare to the lingering guilt that told her to do this for Billy in the first place. She knew this attempt would spark thoughts about his mother, but how he'd react on a scale of 1 to 10, she wasn't so sure. It was wishful thinking to hope for a 3 like he was at the record shop, but she could still hope. Whatever the case, she knew the confrontation would come to her.
As the TV finally cut off from the living room, she knew it was now only a matter of time before he found the evidence.
She slumped to her bed and reached into her pocket to pull out the folded scrap of paper with the numbers on it. Not once had she left it anywhere other than her pockets. She hated how the clock seemed to scream at her. You have no time left! Tell him, tell him, tell him! The day was coming to an end, which meant she had to act soon. If he ignored the cassette, she would just have to decide to tell him about Wendy. And just picturing the rage on his face as she bombarded him with that news was enough to make her shudder.
And just when Max didn't think her heart could beat any faster, her door burst open, slamming off the wall with a boom so loud she was sure it went through the opposite wall. The paper crumpled in her hand as she quickly shoved it under her leg and stared at Billy with wide eyes. She noticed his hand first and the way he held what she could only guess was the Elvis cassette like a red flag.
He yanked the headphones down so they hung around his neck, and she finally met his face. His lips were pressed into a tight line, and his eyes held a sharpness to him as they pinned her in place. This was it blowing up like a carefully planted bomb. She swallowed. Billy shook the cassette as he took a step closer.
"What the hell is this? Huh? What are you trying to pull here, Max?!" No sooner than the word 'pull' left his mouth, he threw the cassette at her in a careless throw. She fumbled to catch it as it bounced off her knee. She glanced at it to make sure he hadn't damaged it. Max looked back up and tried to speak, but her tongue was stuck like glue.
Spit it out, Max! Just tell him already!
She cleared her throat and winced when he tilted his head to the side. It felt like he was daring her to say the wrong thing. "Billy I–"
"Since the moment you decided to waltz your little prying ass into the kitchen, you've been trying to probe into my damn head and annoy the shit out of me with all of your ridiculous ass questions. Can I cook? Do I have any recipes? Memories… Did you know Graceland was a museum? I mean fuck, Max! You are starting to piss me off." His chest heaved by the time he was done. Max could only stare at him. But Billy wasn't done.
"It's bad enough I have Neil breathing down my neck all the damn time. Now I have to look over my shoulder for you too? Why the hell are you doing this all of a sudden? Why won't you leave me alone?!"
"Billy, I wasn't trying to annoy you, I swear." Spit. It. Out.
"Then what the hell are you trying to—"
"Wendy called."
Billy went quiet and so still he looked like a frozen sculpture... His face altered as if she'd spoken a different language. Max could have sworn he'd gone pale. "What?"
Max noted his reaction. She was right. He did know Wendy.
With the little glimmer of guilt still guiding her through the cloud of nerves, she lifted her leg and removed the crumpled piece of paper. Smoothing it out as best she could, she looked at it one more time before outstretching it toward him.
"Wendy called yesterday asking for you… She… she mentioned your mom."
Billy tensed.
She continued, outstretching the paper further when he didn't reach for it. "She gave me your mom's number and asked me to give it to you so you could call her. I know it's your choice if you want to or not, but…" Max looked up, "knowing you, I figured you'd reject it without giving it a chance. That's why I was asking all those questions. And why I got the tape. I thought maybe if you were reminded of her, of good times, you'd want to."
He was still so rigid, unmoving. He stared at the paper wearily as if Max handed him an open blade that was sure to cut him the moment he touched it. His jaw clenched as his throat bobbed and she could see what looked like a war of emotions happening in his head.
"I know your mom is a touchy topic, but still… I just… I wanted you to at least have the mind to give it a chance."
Billy's brows knitted, his mind clearly dissecting each of her words. He stared at the number, hesitant. He took a cautious step back, his hands fisted at his sides. "I don't want it."
Max's heart caught in her throat. Even after all she said, how could he just say no? Why would he say no? God. Sometimes she hated being right. But she didn't want to give up. Not now. If she couldn't give him the tickets, or give him this, what could she give him? What could she do to make him happy?
"Billy, I know it could be awkward and scary, but… maybe try to consider how this might be good for you. Maybe it could be an opportunity to get further away from him."
"I said I don't want it, Max. Just throw it away."
"Why? Billy you—"
"How many times do I have to tell you to keep your nose out of my business?! Leave it alone!"
"I would if you just tell me why. Help me understand why you're so against this. I just want to help you…"
"Maax…" His voice took on that ominous edge. And his eyes were no longer looking at the scrap of paper. If anything it was like it didn't exist to him at all. He glared at her in a way that had that chill crawling up her back again. She tried to plead with her eyes, but he bared his teeth in a snarl. "Leave. It. Alone."
She lowered the number, dejected. What more could she do? "OK."
Billy lingered for a moment, then left without closing the door. He shut his with a slam that made her jolt. Max slumped on the pillows, cradling the paper in her palm. The sting of rejection burned the back of her throat, filling her mouth with the taste of bitterness. Her eyes gave that all too familiar prickling sensation that warned her she was close to tears. She bit down on her tongue to fight it off. How was it possible that this felt worse than the tickets going missing? Like this was a true failure. After all, she had been so sure that this was what he would have wanted more than anything. For him to be that close to the edge of anger all because she wanted to be there for him? To help him?
It felt hopeless. What more did she have to offer now?
. . .
The moment their parents walked in, Max's mom said her hellos and started on dinner. As she did, Max just sat at the table playing with the salt shaker, her cheek resting lazily in her palm. She sighed.
"What's wrong, baby? That's your fourth sigh."
"Nothing," she sighed.
Susan glanced back but didn't push. "I bet you're excited about tomorrow."
"What's tomorrow?"
"What's tomorrow?" Susan repeated with a smile. "Your comics. Remember? Didn't you say the new Wonder Woman issue was coming out?"
Shit. I forgot about that. It was tomorrow. So much had happened that month, Wonder Woman was the last thing on her mind.
"Do you need a ride? Neil and I could take you. What time do you want to go?"
Max tensed at the name, remembering the tight grip he had on her in the truck. No way in hell she'd want him to take her. Which meant the only other person who could do it was Billy, and with how their last conversation went, she wasn't sure she could convince him to take her.
She slumped but just as quickly sat back up as a light bulb went off in her head. She wouldn't really need to do that, right? The memory seemed so far away given everything that had happened, but a promise had been given not that long ago. Back at the skate shop, Billy had told her he would take her, and the sincerity in his voice soothed the disappointment back down. That day had been the first kind promise he'd ever made her, and the reality of remembering it now still shocked her. He didn't often make promises unless they were threats. And even then, he never went back on his promises. Her broken skateboard could attest to that. So maybe…
Yeah… He wouldn't go back on his promise to her, she was sure.
"No thanks," Max finally said. "Billy will take me."
A contented look spread on her mother's face. A smile? Why? Max wondered. Could it be that now instead of groaning at the idea of Billy taking her somewhere, Max was now offering it up? She didn't want to ask in case her mother pressed for details. But she couldn't think of any other reason she'd smile at her statement.
"I guess that works perfectly then." Susan set a bowl of ground beef aside and walked over to Max. She sat in the chair next to her and looked around, before leaning in. "Neil said he'd consider giving the keys back to Billy tonight since tomorrow is the last day before school and all," she whispered.
Susan stretched her smile. Max forced a faint one but remained unmoved. Knowing Neil, he'd give his keys back a day early just so Billy could spend his last day running errands.
Susan stood and touched Max's shoulders. "I'll give you some money for tomorrow." She kissed her hair, then went back into her bowl of ground beef.
Max watched her mom start back on dinner humming to herself and then looked back at the salt granules on the table. She pushed them around with her finger as she thought of everything bouncing around in her head. All she had wanted when this started was to get those tickets for Billy—to make up for the missed ticket sales and broken radio. She'd risked everything only for it to blow up like a geyser. Still, she had grasped onto the fact that she'd won them and he would get to have a sliver of happiness outside of this hell. And yet, thanks to Neil, that was taken from him too. Now the situation with Wendy was like a fresh wound, yet no greater than the constant burn of his rejection. Why was he so determined to turn her away at every turn? The guilt bubbled, mixing with the sourness of his constant rejections and she longed for the bit of happiness her comic might bring her. Maybe she could feel a little better once it was in her hands.
. . .
Last day of winter break. And school seemed like a retreat she was more than ready for. After everything that had happened, she was more than ready to be out of the house each day. It was getting harder to get out of her own head. The guilt seemed to chase her, and the more she tried to defeat it, the more she seemed to push Billy away with her attempts.
Billy was distant, acting as though their conversation never even happened. Though, the intense furrow etched on his face seemed to say otherwise.
The sound of his weights hitting the floor was a steady drum in her head that pulled her from her thoughts. She needed to ask him to take her to the comic store soon or she risked missing out on a copy. That or it being too late to go.
As she made her way toward the clanging sound, she wondered if Billy already had the keys or not, or if Neil was going to make it a calculated decision that would only make Billy simmer in more anger. What worse way to celebrate getting his keys back than to be forced to run errands on his last day of freedom? Or maybe Neil was deciding to wait until night when Billy could do nothing with his day. It had to be that because why else would Billy stay inside this prison?
Billy didn't bother to look in Max's direction when she stopped a few feet away from him. She picked at her fingers as she waited for a moment, but when it was clear he was set on ignoring her, she took a deep breath. "Billy, can you take me to get the new Wonder Woman comics?"
"I'm busy, Max."
"Well, what about after?" She glanced at the clock. She had already let enough time pass in her hesitation to ask him, but for each minute that flew by, she was that much closer to missing out on the new issue.
"No."
Max snapped her head back to him. She blinked, taken aback. "No?"
"That's what I said. Are you deaf?" He placed the bar on the rack and moved to change the weights.
"But… you said you'd take me… remember? When we were at the skate shop."
Billy thought for a moment, scrunching up his brows in remembrance. Then, he raised them for a split second before giving a dismissive wave. "Doesn't ring a bell."
Max scrunched her lips. "Billy, you promised."
"Look, Max. This is the last day I have to myself. A day where I can actually do nothing for a change. No work, no babysitting you, and especially no trips to the comic shop. Can I at least enjoy this before having to go back to essays and bitching teachers tomorrow?"
Billy didn't wait for an answer. He finished loading the weights and dove right into bicep curls.
Max clenched her fists, and when he didn't bother to acknowledge her soul-piercing scowl, she stomped away. It was bad enough she was feeling guilty for the tickets and for him not connecting with his mother, but now she just needed one good thing. Just one. To lift her spirits. To lift her freaking head out of the muck of darkness and tension she'd been downing in the last few weeks. And he promised her. For once in his life, he promised her something that didn't involve pain or hurt or threats.
Billy had been lazing in bed moping and wouldn't get up for nearly half the day, and suddenly he wanted to work out? It was the same thing he'd been doing most of the winter break!
She considered taking up her mother's offer, but she was out shopping for groceries by now, and god knows how long that would take. She could walk but that would get Billy in trouble for not looking after her. And that was the opposite of what she had been trying to do.
Max plopped down on her bed in a huff. She looked at the phone number still in her pocket. After Billy left her room yesterday, she considered throwing it away like he said, but she just couldn't bring herself to. This was his mother for Christ sake. She couldn't just get rid of his only link to her.
Maybe I should try convincing him again…
"Leave it alone."
Max sighed, once again finding herself at a crossroads that would surely result in something blowing up in her face again. But she found herself more and more angered at him for breaking his promise. If he couldn't be relied on to keep it, then that left her with only one thing to do.
At the sound of the weights hitting the floor for the last time, Max shot up from her bed, determination in each step as she strode across the hall. In her own frustration, she swung open his bedroom door. She wasn't sure what she was looking for until her eyes landed on his bedside table. There, the keys to his car sat alone. Neil must have given it to him after all. That only boiled her blood more. Using the car would have been so much easier than the bus, and he still wouldn't take her?
Max snatched up his keys and swiveled on her heel, marching back into the living room.
"Billy!"
Billy groaned and turned his head, raising the headphones from his ear. "Max, I told you I'm not–" He stopped, his eyes locked on the dangling keys in her hand. "Max…"
She waited.
Billy, processing only a second, slid the headphones from his head and was up on his feet in an instant. Adrenaline coursed through her. She stumbled back on socked feet, desperate to get away in time. His face was red, and spittle flew from his mouth as he tried to disentangle himself from the headphones. Max spun in an attempt to flee, only to hear a crash from behind. She glanced over her shoulder to see Billy down on one knee having tripped over a weight. He let out a harsh flow of curses before jumping back up only to stumble into the wall as she turned the corner and ran.
"Max, you're dead!"
Max wasn't sure what he'd do if he caught her. But she didn't want to find out.
Just as Billy lunged out a hand, she veered again into her room, slamming the door with a sharp click of the lock.
Billy crashed into the door, slamming it with his palm. She backed away, but only a step.
"Max, open this fucking door!"
"No, not until you take me to get my comics."
"You fucking hypocrite. Breaking your own deal!"
"And so are you! You promised you'd take me!"
"Max—!"
"You promised!" her voice cracked with a wine that she wished she could take back. She said it again, softly, "You promised…"
There was silence on the other side. Max stood completely still. Then took a cautious step forward to press her ear against the door. Did he leave?
"Open the door, Max." His voice was low. Soft.
She hesitated.
Then, he said it again, firmly. "Open. The door."
Max pressed her lips, not moving. Weighing her options. She grabbed the knob, slowly creaking the door open, showing only an inch of her wary face. In a swift motion, Billy pushed the door open wide and snatched the keys from her hand. He locked eyes in a glare that showed his lingering irritation. They said nothing, just stared at one another.
Billy's chest heaved with even breaths. His jaw worked over and over, grinding his teeth. The keys jingled in his clenched hands that moved mindlessly like he needed to keep himself busy. Max had never seen him look so torn. It was as if he wanted to lash out at her again, yet something in his mind was holding him back.
"You've got two minutes to get ready," he finally said, then quickly turned, slamming the door to his room.
Max just stood there trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.
. . .
They rode to the comic shop in silence. An apology had been resting on her tongue since he'd sped off down the road. It poked at her lips even now. It's not like she wanted to resort to key snatching, but maybe she had taken it a little too far.
Max stole a fifth glance in his direction. Both of his hands were on the wheel, which was already not normal, but it was the complete whitening of his knuckles that told her he was fuming. Not to mention the vein in his head seemed to throb, it stuck out so much. And his lips were pressed so tight, she wondered if he was holding back a slew of insults. She swallowed her apology, thinking it might just harden his already rock-solid defenses. She would wait until he calmed down… if he ever did.
By the time they arrived at the shop, she was sure she might suffocate from the tension, but she tried to ignore the way it made her chest tight as they pulled to a stop. She looked up at the building with a grimace. It wasn't as big as the one in California, but people spilled out from the door, a long line of girls and boys ready to get the new Wonder Woman issue. Billy let her out right at the front. Before the door was fully closed, he screeched off god knows where. Her guess was either the smoke shop, the nearest parking lot, or simply driving around instead of waiting in a mess of snot-nosed brats as he would so kindly say.
Max got in line.
Somehow, the banter and excitement of the others around her lifted her mood a bit. Only a bit. This comic would be something to help her take her mind off of things. At least until she could figure out the situation with the tickets and Billy's mom. And Billy…
To her surprise, it didn't take as long to reach the front of the line. There were at least a dozen comics left when she finally reached the front, so she was happy she came when she did. She paid and walked out with a small bounce in her step. (At least she could say one good thing happened this week). Fortunately for her, Billy was parked along the side of the building, smoking from inside the car with the windows down.
Max walked over. As soon as she opened the door, he was already throwing out his cigarette and starting the car. And as soon as her passenger door closed, he was off.
Max held onto the laminated comic tightly, a small smile on her lips.
But Billy was still silent. Eerily silent. Her stomach rolled with uneasiness, and her smile faltered. A sudden wave of guilt gripped her chest for feeling even an ounce of joy. It felt wrong, especially after how she convinced him to take her, and especially after how he'd been feeling lately. She looked over at him, then averted her eyes.
"Thanks," she barely whispered.
He barely offered a glance before his grip tightened on the steering wheel hard enough to make it creak in protest. He puffed on a newly lit cigarette and blew out a breath of smoke in her direction. "All this for a chick in a swimsuit? Tsk." He flicked the ash out the window before muttering under his breath, "Hope it's worth it."
She scrunched her lips at his tone and winced at the harsh smell of tobacco. "It's not just some chick in a swimsuit. It's Princess Diana of the Amazons. And this is her battle outfit."
He scoffed, "Whatever. Waste of my damn time…"
"Sorry…" She softened, thumbing at the crisp new pages. The excitement dulled to a distant numbness. Now all she felt was the guilt as it surged full force to the front of her mind. Was she really always ruining things for him? She had practically bent his will to make him do this. Even if he had promised, she still pushed and pushed…"Sorry for taking your keys too. After everything, I just really wanted this comic to make me feel a little happy, you know…"
He didn't speak as he flicked his cigarette out the window. But that familiar twitch of his jaw told her he was far from letting it go. He was rigid in his seat, and she wondered if he wished he could flick himself from the car to get away from her. She wanted him to hear it all though, to be told sorry and to hear that she actually meant it. About all of it…
"And sorry for the whole Wendy thing…" It was barely an audible whisper, but he'd heard it. He shifted in his seat, cracking his neck… or was that the steering wheel again? His glare sharpened on the road, shoulders tense.
He didn't like her mentioning it.
Nice going, Max.
When he ignored her still, she took a deep breath. Had she really dug herself in so far deep, he didn't trust her enough to let her in? She tried to sort through the jumbo in her brain to see if she had the words to convey how her intentions had only ever been pure. She knew he wouldn't like her shoving sentiments down his throat, yet she wanted him to hear her apology. Maybe then he'd see that this time around she had only ever had his best interest at heart. She was trying to do all of this for him, not against him.
"I realize now I should have just told you about it instead of pushing and plotting those things to get you to talk about it. I just…wanted you to have something for once. After the few things you told me, it just seemed like something that you'd want…"
Empty, ear-splitting silence echoed between them like a cavern. His eyes were slowly thundering, and she half expected the steering wheel to break in half at any moment. He blew out a slow breath, and she watched his throat bob. Was he thinking about his mom now?
Max paused, trying to keep from asking. But she couldn't hold the words back. "I'm just curious… Why… why don't you want to call your mom?"
"Max. Don't start." His voice was cold, packed with unmistakable warning.
She bit her lip. "I'm not telling you to. I just… wanted to know… to understand yo–"
"You don't need to know. Just leave it alone."
"No, I don't need to know… but I want to. For you."
"Well, I don't want you to. What part of that can't you get through your damn head?"
Max gulped. Everything in her body told her to shut up, to drop everything right then and there. But when she closed her eyes, she could see it. Years down the road when they were older and out of Neil's house, and Billy being all alone with nothing but his flings. No one there because of his incessant need to push them all away. How he would become a monster of his own creation. A man like Neil. It made her stomach hurt and her eyes burn to think of him that way, especially when she had been given the smallest of glimpses into the good that was still inside of him. Somehow she just knew in her gut that talking to his mom again could stop that from happening. At least… she hoped.
"Maybe… if you'd just call her—"
"Ugh, it's not that simple, Max." Billy's voice came out exasperated and his hand smacked at the steering wheel in ever-growing frustration. "And there's no point, so drop it."
"Of course there's a point. If it's what you want then that's more than enough reason to do it!"
"Whoever said that's what I wanted? Huh? Why can't you just fucking leave it?!" Billy looked at her with wild eyes, his hand up in the air in question. His lips were red from the pressure of pressing on them. He looked only seconds away from bursting at the seams. But Max couldn't understand why he was so adamant about dropping the conversation.
"Because you obviously miss her!" she said, her voice raising an octave. "Knowing that, I thought you'd at least want to see your mom again!"
"Why would I want to see someone who abandoned me?!"
Max was shocked, and Billy appeared to be as well. His tough exterior cracked for a split second when the words shot from his lips. His shoulders tensed, and a flicker of pain crossed his eyes. And Max knew he hadn't meant to say that. He quickly turned away.
Her mouth hung, unable to find the words. "She… abandoned you?" she finally mustered. Her voice was soft, shaking with disbelief. "What do you mean she abandoned you?"
"What the hell do you think it means? It's exactly what it sounds like, Max." He turned to face her. "She left… She left me… with him."
Max's eyes widened in disbelief. She couldn't understand… Why? How could his mother leave him like that, and with someone like Neil? There had to be a good reason. Right? The way Billy spoke about her in the past with such love and longing… there just had to be…
Maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe Neil forced her to leave and refused to let her take Billy with her. Or maybe something even worse.
Whatever the case, she needed to help him realize that there was likely a reason for it all. To get him to see that Wendy reaching out meant his mom wanted to reconnect. What else could it mean? Surely that meant she wasn't abandoning him. Max needed to make this happen for him, to finally give Billy something he deserved after never getting anything at all. If she couldn't do this then it was all for nothing. The tickets, the beatings, Wendy, all of it would be for absolutely nothing.
"No… no there must be some mistake. Maybe… maybe she did it for a reason. Maybe she didn't have a choice."
Billy scoffed and it came out as a broken attempt at a dismissal. His brows knitted as he shook his head once. Max couldn't tell what was more obvious on his face, the anger… or the hurt.
Her voice came out soft, "Billy… she could have had her reasons."
"To leave me alone with him? To leave me all alone in that fucking house knowing damn well what he could do?"
"You mean what he could do to her too?" she added hesitantly.
His eyes shot to her, wide and blazed. "Why are you defending her?"
"I'm not. I'm just saying don't waste this opportunity. You can find out. You can talk to her."
"I don't need to talk to her when I already fucking know. She packed up her bags and chose to leave. She was saving her own damn skin and didn't bother taking her crutch of a son with her. Made it all the more easy for her to get away and leave me behind to take the brunt of his wrath."
"You don't know that—"
"No! You don'tknow that!" he boomed. "So just do me a favor and stop it. Just stop it!"
"But you're saying you do? You haven't even spoken to her! Seems to me like you're just making assumptions…"
Billy took a heated breath. "No one asked for your help in this, so stop putting your nose where it doesn't belong."
"Seems to me like I'm the only one in your life who even cares enough to bother. So why not just let me?"
"Oh yeah, because you're so great to have around, huh? You just help sooo much!"
"I could if you let me, but you always push me away! I don't get why you can't stand to be around me!"
Billy's eyes widened. He turned away from the road to glance at her like she's sprouted a third eye. "Because everything you fucking do always gets me into trouble! Even taking you to get your stupid little comic could!" He scoffed, his voice morphing into a growl. "You wanna know why I'm always in a shitty mood? It's because of you! Because I just know that every damn day, your annoying little voice is going to be in my ear again with your stupid prying and poking. And every damn day, I just hope you will have swallowed your damn tongue."
She shook her head, the sting of tears threatening her eyes. "You don't mean that. I know you, and you're just saying that to hurt me. To try and get me to shut up about this, but I won't."
He scoffed. "What are you trying to do, huh? Why do you care?!"
"Because I want to see you happy! Is that so wrong?!"
Billy paused. For a second, he seemed calm. But only for a second. "You can't make me happy, Max. You can't make anyone happy, and your damn pushing and prodding is just making things worse. Why make me happy, huh? Afraid I'll get on you again? Trying to get on my good side so things don't go back to how they were?"
"That's not why and you know it, so stop trying to change the subject. How long do you plan to keep going through life drowning in misery? You need to do something to be happy."
"Oh, and talking to her will?"
"It might if you would just pull your head out of your ass and try!"
Billy dismissively waved his hand. "You know what, I'm done. We're done!" He went to turn on the radio, but Max blocked his hand, and he shot her a look sharp as knives. Still, she continued.
"You never try anything, do you?! Like always, you dismiss anything that could be good for you!"
"And you're such an expert? With your track record, one might think me getting my ass beat is your idea of what I deserve."
Max reared back like his words delivered a brutal slap. She sucked in a breath, and the feelings in her chest began to morph into anger. "Everything I've done has been for you, even my shitty attempts. You know why? Because I'm stupid enough to care about your dumb ass. But you, all you care about is getting drunk and messing around with girls. You don't care about anything else, or anyone. I don't even know if you care to need your mother."
Billy's eyes snapped to her and widened, the car swerving a little with the movement. He let out a frustrated growl as he corrected the car and his voice came out dark and dangerous. "I don't need anyone. Not fucking Neil. Not her. And especially not you."
It felt like a knife pierced through her heart. But she pressed on, nodding while holding back the tears in her eyes. "Yeah, and look where having no one has gotten you," she snapped, forcing herself to look into the heat of his glare. "So determined to make everyone hate you."
He pointed a finger. "Shut your fucking mouth. One more word, Max and you're going to regret pushing me."
"And what's going to happen when you push everyone away and spend the rest of your life alone? You really are set on self-destruction. Sooner or later there won't be anyone for you to hate except yourself."
Billy gave brisk nods as he rolled his tongue. "OK… I told you. I fucking told you."
Max blinked, barely hearing his mumble. "What–" But he was already swerving the car.
"Maybe this will get you to finally shut the hell up." Billy snapped. He reached over and gripped the top end of the comic, but Max quickly tightened her grip. She winced at the small tearing sound, and she knew if she tugged back it would rip the pages more.
"No stop! Billy stop!" she cried out. Billy's face contorted with frustration as she held on. He bared his teeth and gave a fierce yank as he ripped the comic from her fingers. Her eyes began to sting as she tried to fumble for his arm, desperate pleas spilling from her.
The car shook as she undid her seatbelt and threw herself at him. She tried to snag the book back, but Billy continued to veer it out of her reach, wafting it around as if swatting a fly. Her heart sank when he took his hand off the wheel to throw it out the window, but she leaned over the middle console and grabbed his arm.
The car jerked. Letting out a visceral huff, Billy veered the car to the side of the road, threw the gear in park, and opened the door, yanking his arm from Max's grip as he got out of the car.
"Billy, no. Stop!"
Max rushed out the passenger side, weaving around to the driver's side, but Billy quickly went to hers, keeping the car between them. Max went to circle around again, but stopped when Billy pointed at her over the roof of the car.
"I told you to stay out of my business!" Billy sidestepped when Max attempted to rush around to no avail. "You want me to be the bad guy, Max? Fine! If this is the only thing that will get you off my back then so be it!"
Billy gripped one side of the comic with both hands.
Dread instantly flooded in, threatening to drown her. Max's voice cracked, "Billy, please, don't!"
The sound of tearing paper echoed in the dense air, each rip intensifying more than the last.
"No!"
But he disregarded her pleas. The comic was torn into bits, scattered like confetti by the fury of his hands. As the pieces fluttered down to the pavement. Max rushed around the car, falling to her knees to gather and cradle the fragments in her trembling palms.
Tears pooled in her eyes as she snapped her head to him. "What's wrong with you?!" she yelled, her voice a mix of disbelief and anger.
"You. You're what's wrong with me! Stop trying to help me because you can't!"
An unsettling silence hung. Max's trembling breath filled it. Her eyes flashed with a volcanic rage. She stood with clenched fists, not caring about the mud on her jeans. Billy just stood there, bits of torn paper slipping from his fingers.
Her legs shook as she took a single step closer, sinking into the muddy grass. One after the other, she moved carefully, slowly. Her chest rose and fell with each heated breath as she confronted Billy, the torn comic still clutched in her hands.
"I never understood what other people saw in you, how they could just look past what a cruel asshole you were."
"Watch it, Max—"
"I always tried to give you the benefit of the doubt and always ended up being punished for it. And now I see why. You are an angry, aggressive bully just like your dad—"
He clenched his fist. "I'm serious. Shut your damn mouth."
"Why, because it's the truth? Because you can't stand to admit you're just like him!"
Billy let out a sound of disgust as he turned away to face the car, moving toward the driver's side. But Max didn't waver, didn't let him get away from her this time.
"You're always hurting others and taking people down with you because you want to stay miserable. You are the very embodiment of him—"
"Shut. Up—!"
"That's why your mom left. She didn't leave because of Neil. She left to get away from you!"
"I SAID SHUT UP!"
Billy whirled around, and her head swung, vision blinded by the sudden blow to her face. She fell to the ground. The swing rattled her brain.
It was like wiping out on a skateboard and hitting your head on the pavement. She was used to that feeling, but it never made it any less disorienting. It took her a moment to realize that she hadn't been on her board this time. She hadn't turned a trick wrong.
Max pushed herself off the ground. Her fingers trembled, touching her throbbing cheek in shock. Something warm smeared as she brushed it across. She looked at her fingers.
Blood.
"Max…"
She looked up and wished she hadn't.
The color drained from Billy's face, frozen and white with horror. He stood awkwardly, his hands by his sides, unsure what to do.
"Max, I… I didn't…" He held up his hand. There was a red blot on one of the rings that slit her cheek from the backhand.
Billy took a step forward, and she flinched. Max held up her bloodied hand like a barrier as she pushed herself through the mud to scoot away from him. Her lip quivered as she turned away, fixing her eyes to the ground. She stared at the ripped remains of the comic, willing it to make the moment go away.
The silence was blistering. From the corner of her eye, Max saw Billy's foot lodged in the mud, unmoved. She glanced up, again regretting the decision.
His lips, once quick with retorts, now remained parted. Deep lines etched on his forehead, and his once enraged gaze looked haunted.
No words, just irreparable shock.
Billy stared at the ring on his finger, then at his hand as though they were strangers. His mouth opened and closed trying to push out the words… any words that might remedy this moment, but Max knew no words he could have said would take back what he'd just done.
Billy quickly veered, circling to the driver's side door. He gave her one last look before getting in the car and speeding off.
Max didn't move. She just sat there in the cold mud, held her face, and cried.
To be continued…
A/N: Another potential title was "Frayed", but "The Reckoning" just had a better ring to it.