When I reach the end of the aisle, I mourn the loss of the items left behind for a quick second before maneuvering into a crouch.If I time it right, and if he’s facing the back of the store, I can dart out the door and down the street without being spotted.
"Who are we hiding from?" Max whispers conspiratorially from behind me, and I scream, falling backward onto my ass like the lunatic I clearly am.
"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me." I shove his arm lightly.
I can’t believe I didn’t hear him.
"Me? At least I’m not on my knees trying to literally crawl away from you." His eyes narrow, and he crosses his arms. "What was your plan here? Ghost me? You remember how small this town is, right?"
He’s hurt, genuinely upset by my antics. "No!" I push to standing, extending my good hand to a still crouched-down Max. "I just, I don’t know. Yes. I guess I was hiding after—"
"Not here." Max grabs my hand, standing to his full height. "Grab your stuff and let’s go talk… please." His eyes are pleading.
I nod, turning to make my way back toward my abandoned book and coffee with my head hung in shame. It seemed logical this morning to avoid him, to pretend nothing happened—but now, I feel like an asshole.
Once I’ve gathered my things and paid for the book I selected, with an all too knowing grin plastered on Olive's face as she rang me up, we head out the door and away from the crowd that’s beginning to pour into the square. Our walk is silent, so quiet it almost hurts.
"Look, Max, I—"
"Sadie, I—"
A laugh bubbles out of me, and Max follows suit. I’m not sure how our timing is so in sync, but then again, am I sure about anything anymore?
Max spots an open bench on a grassy patch of land surrounded by houses. It’s not uncommon in Mage Hollow, as most of the blocks have some sort of park or natural area in the centerof them. It’s the town’s way of preserving its charm instead of throwing up tons of little box houses that fit in perfect rows. I appreciate it. There is room to breathe here, room to sprawl out and read a book, or talk to the guy you kissed while getting stitches for the first time.
We cross the street, sliding onto the bench sideways, facing each other. A willow tree waves over our heads, and the scent of flowers tickles my nose.
"Can I go first?" I ask, reaching out to grab Max’s hand. He nods. "Okay, so this is going to be a lot, but I think I just need to get it out. My boss, Levi, made me take a leave for a whole host of reasons, including the panic attack I told you about, but the biggest one was that I have zero work-life balance."
Max squeezes my hand and nods in understanding.
"I’ve always been this way: study hard, work hard, play later… except the last part rarely happens. It’s not that I don’t want to have a life outside of work, it’s just that there isn’t enough time with everything else I need to accomplish, and with ADHD I have to work harder than everyone else to complete even the smallest of tasks… to stay focused."
"Your one-legged stool?" Max smirks, echoing my words from last night, seemingly unfazed by my confession.
"Exactly. Everyone else has multiple legs. Take my sister, for example. She has a family, a career, us… multiple legs. So, if one breaks, she’s still standing. But me, I only have one priority in my life, one thing to keep me afloat."
"That makes sense, but what does that have to do with me?" Max runs his hand through his hair. "Why were you planning to avoid me?"
There isn’t a good way to explain this to him without making myself sound like a coward. But the genuine interest in his expression makes me feel like I can be honest, even if it’s embarrassing. He puts me at ease without even trying.
I release a slow breath, relaxing my shoulders. "I was avoiding you because of this"—I wave my hand between us—"this is fun. Spending time around you, laughing with you, heck, even getting stitches with you is more fun than I’ve had in years—and that’s scary. I have so many goals I want to accomplish, so many kids that I want to help. I’m worried that if I slip, even slightly, my priorities won't ever be the same. And that’s not meant to be a big declaration. It’s just that giving in to what everyone else says I need feels like I’m doing it for all the wrong reasons."
Releasing Max’s hand, I cover my face. "It feels like they’re setting me up to fail."
Max tugs on my arms gently, settling my hands on his thigh as he traces my bandage lightly. "Why would anyone want you to fail? Have you considered that maybe they just want you to be happy? Fulfilled?"
"I am happy. I love my job."
"Right, I know. But when’s the last time you did something that was only for you?" Max strokes my arm, a light touch of his fingertips running from my elbow to my wrist. "Because the job makes you happy, but couldn’t you be happier if you had that plus a few more legs on your stool?"
"I honestly don’t know. I’ve tried dating, and every time it doesn’t work out… I’m relieved more than anything else." Slumping back against the bench, I hang my head over the back as I peer at the sky.
"Sounds like you’ve been dating the wrong guys, Sade."
That’s an understatement.
"Are you saying it would be different if I dated you? That you’d understand every time that I had to stay late to do media with a spark the flame kid, or every time that someone called me at eleven at night with a planning question for the gala?"
