“Never.” He tosses a piece of bacon and nails her right in the nose.
The meal continues, and aside from Max sliding his hand along my leg—low-key, my ass—this morning’s breakfast turns out not so different from the hundreds of other meals I’ve shared with the Holdens. By the time I get up to help Marcy clear the table, I can’t remember what I was so worried about.
We can do this, Max and me.
When the food’s gone and the kitchen’s clean, he and I sneak up to his room. Clothes and sports equipment are strewn about, his bed is unmade, and there are school papers littering his desk. The space smells clean, though, like him. He closes the door, locking it, I notice, then peers at me like a lion stalking a tasty zebra. “Come here,” he says, holding out a hand.
I step forward, slipping my hand into his. I laugh when a mental picture flashes in my mind: a zebra, eager and naive, trotting into the trap of a hungry lion.
“What’s funny?” he asks.
“Nothing. This is just… weird.”
He loops my arms around his neck, then clasps his hands at the small of my back. “It’s good, though, right?”
I lift up on my toes to kiss him. “Very good.”
He walks me backward until we reach the futon under his window. We sit, intertwined.
“How long can you stay?” he asks.
“Not long. I have to work, remember?”
“I don’t want you to go. How’s that for weird?”
What’s really weird is that I get what he’s saying. I’ve lived within fifty yards of him for more than half my life, yet suddenly it seems like we never have enough time together. “Trust me. I’d rather stay here.”
“Ask Kyle to cover your shift.”
“The two of us are supposed to close together.”
“So I won’t see you till tomorrow?”
I tense. I haven’t given much thought to tomorrow. To school.
It’s clear he knows me well when he says, “Jill, who gives a shit? People are gonna find out.”
“An hour ago you were fine with keeping things low-key.”
“Yeah, then I sat through breakfast feeling like I couldn’t touch you. It sucked.”
“That’s just it. Your sister saw us consume a meal together, and she couldn’t have been snottier about it.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“What about Becky?” Becky, who belittles me as often as possible. Becky, who didn’t give a second thought to smacking into me on the quad. Becky, who hates me because she believes I stole her boyfriend. “If you think she’s not going to assume it’s my fault you guys broke up, you’re deluded.”
“Like I’ll stand by and let her give you shit.”
But what if you’re not standing by?I want to ask, suffering the phantom ache of her shoulder check. “You have no idea how terrible girls can be when they feel like they’ve been wronged,” I say. “Let’s just play it cool, okay? I can’t have another thing to worry about. Not right now.”
He rests his cheek on top of my head. “What else are you worried about?”
I stall, then stammer, “Things at home are… not great.” I’m uncomfortable talking about this, even with Max, and besides, the friction that is life under the Eldridge roof isn’t exactly new-relationship fodder. “I’m trying to get back to a good place with my dad, but he doesn’t understand you. He can’t let go of Halloween, or Bunco, or the night Officer Tate found beer in your truck.”
Max pulls away, sitting upright. “Oh, hell. That’s all in the past.”
“I know, but it’ll be a while before he comes around. If he finds out about us now, he’ll be pissed and I just… can’t. For now, can you and me just beyou and me?”
