“I know it can be difficult to have hard conversations with your peers, but it might make you feel better to confide in him. Max may benefit from it, as well.”
“Okay. I’ll—I’ll try,” I promise, hoping that she doesn’t give me any other homework. This already feels insurmountable.
“I’m going to send in that prescription, and also place an order for the therapy, okay? The office will call you to schedule, and I really do want to stress the importance of it. Pleasecomplete at least three sessions and then we will touch base, okay?”
I nod, suddenly exhausted by this appointment. After Dr. Radford leaves and I put my clothes back on, I make my way to the pharmacy to pick up my prescription. When I hand over my insurance card, my stomach tightens with nerves at the thought of my parents seeing it on the EOB. I’ll have to call and give them some explanation as to why I suddenly need anxiety medication and therapy.
Parking in front of Max’s and my apartment building, I look around for Luke’s shit-pot car. It’s gone, which probably means Max is as well. Disappointment wells, before I tamp it back down. I will not begrudge him his happiness. I willnotbe that guy.
I’m in the midst of a firm talking-to when I step inside and am surprised to find the television playing. Max, sitting on the couch, turns toward the door and smiles.
“Hey,” he calls, immediately muting the TV so we don’t have to shout. Walking in, I glance around for Luke, thinking maybe I just missed seeing his car.
“Hi. I didn’t see Luke’s car, so I figured you were out.”
Flopping down next to him with a groan, I tip my head back against the rear of the couch. I’ve got a low-level headache, as though talking about my issues all morning is manifesting as physical pain.
“He went to meet up with Bryce, actually. And then he has to work later. I thought about going and hanging out at the diner, but then I figured me and you could order food and chill.” His face brightens. “We could play Mario Kart.”
I smile. Max and I used to have Mario Kart tournaments at his house growing up—holed up in the basement until his mom came down to shoo us outside for some fresh air.
“That sounds great. What do you want to eat?”
“You choose,” he says immediately. “I always pick. It’s your turn.”
Deciding that maybe a heavy dose of carbs will do us good, I put in a delivery order for Italian. Max waits, scuffing his socked foot across the floor and fiddling with the remote. When I finish and look back up at him, he smiles at me.
“You okay?” he asks. I open my mouth to tell him that I’m fine—a knee-jerk reaction at this point—but change course at the last second when I think of what the doctor told me.
“I’m f—well, I’m okay. I had a doctor’s appointment today.”
Golden-brown eyes widening, Max straightens from his lazy sprawl on the couch. I hadn’t told him I even had the appointment, not sure I was ready to come clean about the exact nature of why I was going.
“Are you sick?” he asks tightly, looking me up and down.
“No. I just haven’t been…right, I guess. For a while.”
He narrows his eyes. “What does that mean? Who told you that you weren’t right?”
I chuckle at the sheer indignation on his face. Max has always been the easygoing one between the two of us—slow to anger, and quick to calm down. He doesn’t like confrontation, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t go to bat for someone he loves. For me.
“Nobody. I just meant I haven’t been feeling right, that’s all. Actually, I, uh…I’ve been having a lot of trouble with people touching me. It stresses me out and makes me feel kind of shitty. It’s been getting worse and worse, so…yeah.”
“So you went to the doctor?”
“Mm.”
“I didn’t know you were feeling crappy. Why didn’t youtell me? Can I help? I know you don’t like it when people are in your personal space. I’m sorry if I made you feel?—”
“No,” I cut in sharply. “It’s not you. Not at all. It’s more”—I wave a hand through the air—“everyone else. But it’s to the point now where I feel like I can’tdoanything without worrying about people, like, brushing up against me. Seriously, all I do is worry about it—I can’t think of anything else. And God-fucking-forbid I try to have se?—”
I cut off, but judging by the faint blush on his face, Max heardsexloud and clear. Which brings me to the other thing I need to talk to him about, I suppose.
“Also, I hooked up with Nate. Your teammate,” I tell him, deciding that the easiest way to have this conversation is by getting it over with as quickly as possible. “Twice. Well, three times if you count phone sex. I don’t think he’s out, though, so this has to stay between us.”
“Ha!” Max exclaims, leaning forward and poking the end of the remote hard into my thigh. I scowl at him and swat it away. “I knew it. I fuckingknewit.”
“What?”
