Chapter Text
Max blinked away tears as she shoved her phone beneath her pillow. She had been trying so hard to convince herself that she was okay, that she was fine, that Marcus was okay.
But none of it was okay. And neither was she.
She didn't realise how hard this all would hit her, like an oncoming truck, as she stood stuck, helpless on a highway road.
The weekend after her performance of the school play had been rough. She hadn't left her bed unless it was to go to the bathroom, which she almost always stalled so she didn't have to get up. She didn't even go downstairs to eat. It's not like anyone had noticed anyway.
She would pick up her phone. Endlessly scroll, then shove the phone under her blanket. Just to pick it up again. Drop it. Scroll again.
It was a cycle she just couldn't break.
She watched people from school posting pictures and videos, having fun with their own friends, while she sat alone in her room with no one to talk to. She didn't have her friends anymore.
They were fine by themselves; they didn't need her. They were ANG now, not MANG anymore.
She was just being dramatic.
But she watched as the only people she loved drifted away from her, floating away in her sea of feelings. She kept reaching out, trying to somehow reach them, her arms flailing uselessly. They just wouldn't reach back. But she kept trying. Why wouldn't she? She loved them.
But they ignored her now, never reached out, and even had their own group chat without her in it. So now she was just drowning.
It hurt. It really fucking hurt.
She had no one to admit that to but herself.
It hurt knowing Ginny, Norah, and Abby hung out without her. God, even Abby, her best friend since elementary school, had ditched her for some random skateboarder, Tris. She hadn't even known they were a thing, and then in the audience of the play, she saw them so close… so fucking close. Tris had their arm around Abby as Abby leaned against them.
Max squeezed her eyelids shut to get the image out of her mind. She didn't know why it hurt so much; that Abby didn't tell her she was queer, or that she was in a relationship.
Max threw herself over onto her other side. Her sheets were getting bunched up again, but she couldn't care less about fixing them. Maybe she was really that dramatic. Just like everybody's been telling her recently.
But she couldn't help but wonder.
In a forest full of trees, you wouldn't notice if one got cut down, would you?
────୨ৎ────
Abby sat on her bed, unmoving, staring down at the floor. She had this weird feeling draped over her. It felt like a faceless creature was staring at her from behind, or under the bed, just waiting to pounce and prey on her.
No matter how hard she tried to look okay around people, she really wasn't. She was starting to eat more, which resulted in more throwing up. Which came with more excuses for why she was constantly in the bathroom.
Oh, I just had too much to drink, was the most common.
She groaned and let her body flop against her freshly made bed. Probably the doings of her mother, since she hadn't cared much recently about how well her bed looked.
Her face scrunched up as the vision of Max walking away from her after the play replayed behind her eyes. She had looked… so broken.
"God, I'm such an idiot." Abby pushed her palms against her eyes so hard she saw colors.
She didn't know why she was being such a bitch to Maxine lately. She just… was. She never considered Max's current feelings as ANG left her out of all their hangouts. Or… had she?
Subconsciously, she had thoughts of what things would be like if Max were there. Her bright smile and long dark hair being constantly flipped over her shoulder. Her attitude was always so bright, and so… much?
Was that it?
Abby sighed and started to fiddle with the corner of her blanket. Max's feelings were a lot, yeah, but Max couldn't control that. It was stupid to blame her feelings on Max, her best friend. Or… ex-bestfriend? She didn't know anymore. She probably screwed up so badly that Max didn't want to talk to her. Which was understandable.
God, she was horrible.
Abby loved her for her, which meant everything about her. This included her sometimes heavy feelings.
But Abby didn't like feelings.
Abby suddenly felt the need to calm herself, so she ran out of her room to the bathroom.
Where she threw up all of her breakfast.
She stood to clean herself off at the sink, but just ended up staring at herself in the mirror anyway. She hated the way she looked. She felt too fat and too ugly almost all of the time. And she hated to see her reflection in mirrors because of it.
She scoffed at herself when she saw her eyes get slightly glassy, and she rubbed them. Her hands fell to her sides, leftover makeup smudged on her palms.
God, I'm dramatic.
────୨ৎ────
It was now Monday, and school was going to start up again. Maxine dragged herself out of bed. She hadn't looked at herself in a mirror for days, and now that she did, she instantly regretted it.
Her hair was insanely tangled and messy, and her face looked so much paler than it had a few weeks ago. Even her bright brown eyes looked so dull, and sad.
She could just barely make out the tear stains on her cheeks and on the sides of her jaw.
Suddenly, moments from the night of the play flashed behind her eyes.
Marcus… who couldn't quit drinking. Abby, who left her for her tutor, calling her dramatic… yet again. Her friends, ignoring her, leaving her out…
Her breathing was shaky now as she turned away from the mirror. She slid down the counter and to the floor, grabbing her knees and holding on to them for dear life.
Why did it feel like her whole world was crashing in all at once?
How could I go to school like this? How could people see me like this?
Her fingers were fighting each other to grab onto something, any piece of fabric, as she attempted to slow her breathing. She counted in her head, inhaling and then exhaling.
After a few moments, her breathing was able to slow, and she collapsed onto the cool bathroom floor. The tears ran freely down her face, and she let out a few sobs as the tears plopped onto the tile floor.
One by one. Until she finally stopped, feeling like all the power and control had drained out of her. She grabbed the counter so she could drag herself up and stand. Though, as she did so, she accidentally knocked into her razor.
She hissed as it cut from her palm to her wrist and quickly picked the razor up from the floor. As she placed the razor back next to the sink, her gaze went to the cut on her wrist, which was now bleeding. The red blood dripped out of her body, and she hated herself for not hating it.
The sting had startled her. But what scared her most was that she hadn't pulled away from it.
She hated that she liked the sting the razor had come with. The feeling of control over her emotions. God, she needed help.
── ⟡
Max slammed her locker closed after halfheartedly shoving some of her textbooks inside.
Her sweatshirt sleeve scraped against the cut on her wrist, and she winced. Though she didn't know how to feel about; it hurt, but almost in a… good way.
She opened her locker back up just so she could slam it again.
"Hey, Max."
Max whipped around at the sound of the voice, simultaneously grabbing her right wrist with the cut.
"Norah?" She muttered.
Norah blinked quickly, and her eyes drifted to her feet before meeting Max's eyes again.
"I-I just wanted to talk to you." She whispered earnestly.
Max inhaled deeply, taking a slow breath. "Fine. Talk then."
Norah nodded quickly. “Look… I just wanted to admit it. I’ve been a bad friend. Especially to you.” She swallowed hard. “I guess I’m kind of a follower, and I didn’t know what else to do.”
She let out a shaky sigh. “I’m really sorry. And… if you’re not totally mad at me, Brodie’s having a party tonight. Maybe you could come with?”
Max considered the apology and offer, to her surprise. "Fine, I forgive you. And, about Brodies, I'll think about."
Norah nodded, taking a step back, letting Max walk down the hall to class. When she sat down in her English class, her eyes widened when she realized what had just happened.
She accepted the apology. Her head fell into her hands.
Should I have accepted it? Was that too quick? Do I just want my friends back?
She took a shaky breath and forced her focus onto the lesson.
── ⟡
All day at school, she avoided talking to anybody. They didn't want to talk to her either, so it didn't matter.
At lunch, she sat on the opposite side of the cafeteria from where all her friends sat, chatting with eachother as they ate. Max didn't eat. She pushed the food around on her plate but never actually ate any of it.
Little did she know, Abby was staring at her the whole time.
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Abby kept sneaking glances across the cafeteria, where she saw Max's slightly hunched figure silently sitting alone. She looked so… dull. She didn't look like the Maxine that Abby knew, the one who was so energetic and caring.
This Max was quiet. This Max wasn't a social butterfly.
And Abby felt guilty.
────୨ৎ────
Max flopped onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Brodie was having a party tonight. And she was conflicted.
She could go, and see her 'friends'. They might all make up, or have a fight, or yell at her, or get mad at her, or…
She slapped her face with her hand. I need to stop thinking so much.
And that thought ultimately made the decision for her. She would go and try to have fun. She didn't want to feel like this anymore, like she was drowning and couldn't save herself from the inevitable.
She sighed and stood up. She changed into nicer clothes than her set of sweats.
She was a little skinnier than normal, but not by much. Max only noticed cause she stared at herself for so long. The cut on her wrist burned, but figuratively as well. It was a physical sign of what she was going through. How bad it was getting. And she felt shame when she stared at the spot in the mirror, burning holes into it.
She shook her head and exited her room, turning the light off…turning it back on…turning it back off…turning it on again…turning it off. She left the house, making sure the door was locked at least three times. She didn't want to be the reason her family might all get murdered.
Speaking of murder… Max both wanted and dreaded having to see Ginny at the party. She wanted to talk, but she should hate her friends right now… right?
They surely hated her.
I mean, Norah apologized. That should be something, right? But the little voice in Max's head was trying to convince her it was fake. She almost believed it, but pushed the voice far deep down inside her mind as she walked down the driveway.
She glanced across the road, noticing all of the lights were off at the Miller house.
She sighed and kept walking.
── ⟡
When she reached Brodie's basement, she snuck down the stairs, her hand trailing down the wooden railing. Her fingers wrapped around the end, and she spun herself off the last step.
The smell of alcohol was painfully heavy in the air. The sound of music thumped through the walls like a pulse.
There was also a surprising number of people. A lot of them were drunk too, and Max couldn't wait to get like that. All flowy and forgetful of her problems. Numb.
No.
I can't be like Marcus.
They need me to be okay.
She headed to the drinks table, where she instantly downed a shot. It burned as it went down her throat, and she slammed the glass back down on the table.
As she walked away from the other insanely drunk teenagers, she saw a glimpse of Abby on the couch. She felt her breath freeze, and she took a step back.
She shouldn't have been surprised that Abby was here. Or that Abby was with Tris.
But the sight still felt like a stab to the chest. When Tris put an arm around Abby, it felt like the knife was being twisted deeper, making it a struggle to breathe.
As she took a few steps back, she bumped into someone. As she turned her head around, she saw that it was Ginny.
"Max?"
Maxine's lips pressed together, and she looked anywhere but at Ginny's eyes.
She frowned. "Whoa, are you okay? You don't look so good." Ginny had begun inspecting Max's face.
Max laughed dryly. "Wow, thanks."
Ginny tilted her head, trying to catch Max's eyes. "Come on, Max."
After a moment of silence, Max finally forced herself to meet Ginny's eyes.
"Did something happen?" Ginny reached to put her hand on Max's shoulder, but she jerked it away.
"I'm fine." Max's jaw tightened around the words.
"Clearly you're not."
Max snapped. "How would you know? You just ignore me all the time. But I'm probably just too dramatic." Max replied sourly as she turned away and walked toward the bathroom.
"Max-" Ginny called out, but Max was already walking away.
Her heavy steps led her to the bathroom door across the basement. She raised her hand to knock, but paused when she heard a noise from inside. It sounded like someone was throwing up. It didn't sound good, obviously.
She grimaced slightly and took a step back to wait outside.
It took a few minutes, but finally the door opened.
Max wasn't prepared for who was about to step out.
It was Abby.
Max's breath got caught in her throat.
Abby's breath froze for a second, too, though Abby looked like she'd been caught.
"I..are…" Max struggled to spit the words out as she stared down at the shorter girl.
Abby blinked rapidly before looking away from Max's eyes. “I’m fine,” she mumbled.
"But, it doesn't look like you drank anything tonight."
Abby’s eyes widened for a split second, but she controlled her expression as she looked back up. "It's nothing, alright?"
Max nodded a little too quickly and mumbled. "Right, right."
Abby stood there, staring at Max for a moment longer before taking a shaky breath and pushing past the taller girl.
Max's eyes slowly trailed after Abby as she went back to the couch area.
And Maxine couldn't help but feel like Abby was lying to her.