Kissing Max Holden

COME MONDAY MORNING, I’M SEVERELY LACKING IN the sleep department. I spent most of last night whispering on the phone with Max, and the remaining hours of darkness listening to Ally’s wails and Meredith’s out-of-tune lullabies.

I drive her car to school again—she doesn’t have much need for it, since Ally’s not old enough to venture out into the world much—and arrive a few minutes early. Kyle meets me on the quad, tossing a football into the foggy air, catching it as it spirals back to earth. “Leah ran off with Jesse,” he says as we navigate bunches of people. He tucks the football under his arm, his eyes flickering with sudden curiosity. “Tell me—what if you were to see Max right now? What would you do?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’d say hello and go about my business. What do you care?”

He blinks his big blue eyes at me. “I’m just trying to work out the details so I’ll understand why you wouldn’t drape yourself all over this guy you’re obviously nuts for.”

Maybe so I don’t get walloped on campus, I think, scanning the crowd for Becky’s burnt-orange hair. I make an irritated noise in Kyle’s direction. “We’ve been over this.”

“Yeah. And I’ll try not to say ‘I told you so’ when your secret becomes everyone’s business and all hell breaks loose.”

“Thank you, Nostradamus. Consider your prediction noted and ignored.”

The bell blares, and we file into the locker bay with the herd. I spot Max hanging out with Leo and Jesse near my locker. He thumps Kyle on the back as we pass—“Asshole,” Kyle mutters good-naturedly—then catches my eye and tosses me a smile.

I smile back and continue down the hall, struggling to ignore the invisible threads tugging me back toward him. I spin the dial on my locker clumsily. Kyle offers a haughty know-it-all snicker.

I sense Max moving closer even before he taps my shoulder. I turn to find him wearing a look that promises fun whirled with a dash of trouble. “Morning, Jillian,” he says.

Over his shoulder, I see Leo and Jesse watching us. They’re in listening range, Kyle might as well be on top of us, and the hallway is swarming with people. Becky’s still nowhere to be seen, though, and that’s a relief. “Hello, Max,” I say, matching his formal approach.

He grins as he realizes I’m going to play along. “I wanted to see if you’d like to ride to school with me tomorrow.”

So your ex can catch us walking onto campus together? “Oh, um, wow,” I splutter, foraging for an excuse that makes sense. “Thanks, but I’m pretty sure Meredith will let me borrow her car.”

“Seems kind of stupid for us to drive separately when we could easily ride together.”

“But your taste in music sucks,” I say, saccharine sweet.

Kyle snorts.

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “I might be willing to let you choose the music.”

“Really?” He’d give up his beloved classic country just for me?

His voice is a hum suspended in the space between us. “Anything for you, Jilly.”

God. He’s so good at this. The tips of my ears are hot, but I affect an unflappable air because this is a game, that’s all. “What if we hang out after school?” I propose. “We can study. Or … something.”

“Yeah, okay,” he says, his smile turning suggestive. “I’ll see you later, then.” He brushes a lock of hair from my face, out of bounds, but it’s hard to make myself care because his touch sends pitter-patter pops of electricity across my skin. “You won’t regret it,” he says in that same quiet voice, the one that’s meant just for me (and Kyle, I guess, though I’ve mostly forgotten about him).

The exchange has run its course, but Max remains in front of me like his shoes are rooted to the scuffed linoleum. I gaze at him with what I suspect are googly eyes.

The warning bell pierces the din of the hallway, and Kyle grabs my elbow. “See you later, dude,” he tells Max, dragging me down the hall.

“See?” I say once we’ve rounded the corner. “We’re totally capable of keeping things chill.”

“Okay, Miss Delusional. That was the most charged exchange I’ve witnessed … ever. I’m not sure which of you’s going to screw this up first, but it’s bound to happen.”

I shake my head, wondering if there’s something to his conjecture, and hoping there’s not. I recall Max’s whispered words—I just wanna be with you. Like a spring breeze, they drop seeds of uncertainty into the soft soil of my mind.

Should I be open with Max, and take Becky’s wrath as it comes? Should I tell my dad about us, and go back to being the letdown he thought I was after Halloween? After Bunco?

As I walk into French, those seeds of uncertainty shoot into sky-high evergreens of doubt.





28

MIDWEEK, SHOUTING ROUSES ME FROM SLEEP, HOT words blistering my subconscious before I’m alert enough to comprehend them. Bleary-eyed, I glance at my clock; it’s just after midnight.

A thud from the living room makes me jump—a book hitting the coffee table?

The arguments are getting worse. No longer does Meredith attempt to keep her voice down, and Dad has abandoned his evasive I was working mantra. Hurling thinly veiled insults with no concern for hurt feelings has become okay—normal. I hate that it’s all Ally knows.

I sit up in bed as Meredith shouts, “You could tell me where you’re disappearing to!”

“The last thing I need is a babysitter. Get off my back!”

“You’re hiding something. I know you are.” Her razor-sharp accusation cuts the sleepiness from my brain.

“Bullshit!” Dad says. “The only thing I’ve hidden is how much work it takes to keep this family afloat. Your lifestyle isn’t free.”

“Don’t you dare patronize me. I’m your wife, not a financial burden, and you’re smack in the middle of a midlife crisis.”

“Can you blame me? You have no idea what kind of pressure I’m under at work, and you have no idea what kind of debt you racked up with those specialists—even after we pissed away Jillian’s money. All you cared about was having a goddamn baby, and look where that’s gotten us!”

Ally starts to cry. Dad’s pitching low blows, and the hostility in his voice digs into my skin like a thorn—I can only imagine how Meredith must feel. My frustration with him, once a snowball tumbling innocuously downhill, has become an avalanche.

Instinct says I should take his side, but he’s being such a jerk. Meredith could leave him—I’m not sure I’d blame her—and she’d take my sister, who I’m only just getting to know. All I’d be left with is my father, who’s become so dispassionate he’s hardly recognizable, and a future full of uncertainties.

The house falls quiet. I imagine Meredith settling down to feed Ally. Dad probably has buried his nose in his laptop, as if he hasn’t just spewed a deluge of hurtful words. I close my eyes and think of Max, our after-school visits, cruising around in his truck, our final destination the secluded road by the river, where we talk and laugh and kiss like we’re the only people in existence.… The best hours of my day.

I’m sinking back into sleep when Meredith’s voice floats down the hall. “Jake?”

“What?” Cold, brittle.

“Are you having an affair?”

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