Maxx flipped to a rock station and pulled away from the curb in front of my apartment building.
“How are the jobs going?” I asked him, feeling like conversation was required.
“Not bad. But they’re mind-numbing and sort of pay the bills.”
“Sort of ?” I asked.
“Well, they don’t pay as much as I wish they would,” Maxx said with a hint of bitterness.
I didn’t know what else to say. I had never struggled so much with small talk before. Perhaps it was because there were a million things I felt Ishouldbe saying. Things I should ask him.
Should I talk to him about rehab? Should I ask him how he was getting along now that he had been discharged? Should I ignore the topic altogether and for just one day pretend that that particular darkness never had a place in our lives?
“I was thinking the other day how little I really know about you,” Maxx said suddenly, surprising me.
“What?”
Maxx shrugged. “You know some about my parents and you’ve met Landon, but I don’t know anything about where you came from. And I don’t think we’ve ever really talked about your family before. Not once in all the time we spent together did you ever tell me about your parents or your sister. The one that died.”
“Well, that’s the only one I had,” I retorted.
Maxx shook his head. “See, I didn’t even know that. What’s wrong with me that I never thought to ask you such fundamental questions like how many siblings you have or what your parents are like?”
I knew he was right. As deep and wild as things had been between us, it was startling to realize that I had never shared such simple things with him. On one hand, he knew things about me that no one else did. They were the sorts of things that could only be wrenched out of someone at moments of absolute vulnerability. I had opened up to him about my feelings of guilt and grief about Jayme. But when it came to the little things boyfriends and girlfriends knew about each other, we were completely deficient.
It felt strange to backtrack now. Particularly since we were no longer playing those roles in each other’s lives. I wasn’t sure I wanted to give him those tidbits of truth. I didn’t know what purpose it would serve. I was adamant that I wasn’t here with him in order to pursue a continued connection, yet I was here allthe same.
Would it hurt to let him in... just a little bit?
“I guess we haven’t. My parents aren’t really a subject I like to talk about. We haven’t had much of a relationship since my sister, Jayme, died. They blamed me.Iblamed me. It worked out better to have as little to do with each other as possible.” I kept emotion out of my voice. I was blandly neutral, giving nothing away.
He didn’t badger me for details; he just let that piece of information sit there between us. “What was she like? Your sister? Was she like you? Too smart for her own good?” Maxx asked, shooting me a sideways smile.
I stiffened instantly, not exactly prepared to dive into this particular subject. “Umm...” I began, my throat feeling suddenly tight.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,” Maxx said softly, his smile slipping.
And then, just like before, I was talking. Without even realizing what I was doing, I opened myself up a little bit more. And it felt good. Ienjoyedsharing my memories of Jayme. I needed to.
“No. She and I were nothing alike. Even though we looked alike, our personalities couldn’t have been more different. I’ve always been a little school-crazy. Good grades and getting into a decent college were really important to me.”
“Big surprise that you were always the overachiever. You were probably on the debate team and ran for school council, too,” Maxx deduced, chuckling.
“I wasnoton the debate team,” I huffed with feigned indignation.
Maxx made a point to control his laughter. “I’m sorry. I won’t make that assumption again.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the music. “But I totally called the school council. What were you? The president?”
“Vice president,” I muttered under my breath, grumbling but without venom.
“I knew it,” Maxx said, smacking his hand against the steering wheel.
“Well, Jayme was always more interested in hanging out with friends and going out, even though our parents were pretty strict. I had a ten o’clock curfew until I left for college,” I told him.
“Wow. I never had a curfew. But that’s because David never gave a shit where I was or what I was doing. Sometimes I would wish like hell he’d tell me to be home by a certain time. Then I would know that someone cared if I ever came back at all,” Maxx said, his smile now brittle.
My heart couldn’t help but twist a bit at the thought of Maxx growing up unloved and alone. So much of that sense of disconnectedness had formed the person he eventually became. The guy who had thrown himself into the club scene in an effort to belongsomewhere. The guy who used drugs to stop feeling anything atall.
These tiny pieces of his past helped me understand him a little bit better. It certainly didn’t excuse everything that he had done, but I was better able to get the motivations. Maxx cleared his throat and forced a smile back on his face. “So Jayme was the party girl and you were the homebody, right?”
