Chapter Text
Chapter One: You Don't Need to Worry
“Max, sweetheart, are you alright?” Georgia had a quiet summer with Ginny in South Korea with Zion. It was only a month into summer vacation, and the street felt quieter and lifeless. Because that month meant that Ginny had been gone for a month, Marcus had been in rehab for a month, and Georgia realized she hadn’t seen Max in just as much… if not longer. Georgia had evening drinks with Ellen twice since Marcus was in rehab, and Max was out of the house both times. Ellen said she was hanging out with Norah and Abby, but Georgia remembered Ginny saying that Norah was at a family vacation and Abby would be at summer camp and then probably hanging out with her new girlfriend all summer. “Maxine?” It was the middle of the day on a Tuesday, and Georgia walked over to the Baker’s open garage the moment she saw Max riding Marcus’s motorcycle with fresh scratches and a missing mirror.
“Hi! Yes, I’m totally fine!” Georgia was staring at Max’s back for several moments of silence, the teen’s shoulders slumped before her posture shifted and straightened. Max spun around with a blinding smile and sudden exuberance that set alarms off for Georgia, and the teen spoke in a flurry of excitement. “Took Marcus’s bike to Abby’s and totally fell over at a curb! I’m such a clutz! Oh, my mom isn’t home right now, but she’ll be back later. You should totally catch up with her. Between us, I think it’d do her some good!”
“Honey, this looks like a little more than fallin’ over.” Georgia reached out to Max’s arm, the sweatshirt ripped at the shoulder and stained with road rash. A glance down at Max’s leg showed a matching gash. “And where was your helmet? Max–”
“I’m fine.” Max flinched, recoiling a staggered step away with a tight jaw and a cold tone. The ruined black sweatshirt hung loosely, her face paler and the exuberance from a second ago was replaced with a cold, lifeless stare. The shift hung like a guillotine between the two. Then, the cold twisted into guilt and that shifted into a sudden blinding smile. “Really, don’t worry about it! I’m just super gross and dirty. I’m going to shower, and then I’m sure it’ll be fine. It was stupid anyway. I’ll tell Mom you stopped by. Bye, Georgia!” As Max spoke a mile a minute, she’d distracted Georgia with enough of the chaotic change before disappearing into the house and closing the door. Georgia frowned, leaving the garage. She assumed Max retreated to the shower, but as soon as the blonde was out of the garage, the garage door began to close and Georgia knew Max was watching to make sure she actually left. She wanted to text Ginny to see if she’d heard anything from Max lately, but her daughter hadn’t been very responsive to texts since she’d been in South Korea.
Max felt her shoulders sag as she leaned her head against the door in relief when Georgia finally walked back across the street. Her entire body ached. She barely had the energy to give any expected Maxine Baker response, and she knew how perceptive Ginny’s mom was. Max also knew that she didn’t fool Georgia… she just bought enough time to get her to leave. Max grimaced at the burning from the road rash on her leg and shoulder. The house was quiet as she trekked to the shower so she could get rid of all the dirt and sweat and clean the cuts. The shower basin tinted red.
“What the hell was I thinking? That was so stupid.” Max muttered to herself. She’d need to throw her clothes away. Even her right shoe had blood soaked into the Converse fabric, and Max couldn’t keep a single shoe… so she’d need to throw out the whole pair. “What am I going to say when Georgia tells Mom? Max, that was so stupid.” She berated herself again, in a pair of sweatpants and a dark navy hoodie. She needed to think. She needed to come up with a plan. Max closed the door to her bedroom, looking around at the bare walls and dark curtains keeping the midday summer sun from entering the stale, dark room. It only took a week into summer before Max destroyed her bedroom, feeling too much all at once. It was on a Friday, which was labelled Visiting Marcus days on her mom’s calendar. Marcus had refused to see Max, and Max remained blindly upbeat to her parents when they broke the news each week, insisting that Marcus just needs to focus on getting better. That first Friday, with school out for the summer, none of her old friends sending a single message, and Max being separated from Marcus for longer than ever before, Max felt all of her stifled emotions erupt into a dramatic frenzy. The tantrum lasted an hour before exhaustion crashed into Max like a tsunami, and a dull, perfectionist part of her brain insisted that she needed to clean everything up before her parents got home.
.................
“Max, what happened to your room?” Ellen was tired from the drive and emotional day. She saw Max hanging up dark curtains in a dramatically sterile bedroom, and Ellen was at a loss for what her daughter could possibly be doing now. She was too tired for Max’s spontaneity right now.
“I haven’t decided yet! It’s summer, and I’m going to redecorate it, but I’m just not sure with what yet. It’ll be a blank canvas until I’ve decided. I’ll let the inspiration come to me!” Max beamed with a theatrical flair, and Ellen took a deep breath and nodded.
“Okay, just… try not to let inspiration strike you in the middle of the night, okay?” Ellen sighed at the exaggerated laugh from her daughter, leaving her teenager to finish cleaning while she updated her husband. At least Maxine would keep herself busy this summer…
If Ellen had turned around, she might’ve seen Max’s smile fall like a curtain closing on a Broadway performance, exhaustion from the act overtaking the tired performer's posture.
....................
“Mom, I took Marcus’s motorcycle over to Abby’s. I fell over a curb on the way back and scratched it. But it’s totally fine and I’m totally fine and I promise I won’t do it again! And I’ll fix the bike before Marcus gets back!” Max was in the kitchen practically waiting to ambush her mother when her parents returned from visiting Marcus at rehab. The smile and rapid signing as she spoke was dizzying as Ellen shared a stunned look with her husband. Ellen was exhausted, and she and Clint argued right after visiting Marcus, so they weren’t in a good place either.
“Max! What were you thinking? You can’t just take Marcus’s bike because he’s away! You don’t even know how to drive it!” Ellen exploded, but Max’s smile didn’t falter and she shrugged. “You’re grounded for a week. Go up to your room while your father and I talk.” Max didn’t argue, she didn’t say another word, she just disappeared up the stairs. “What was she thinking?” Ellen asked her husband, and Clint signed back.
“I don’t know. You sent her to her room before she could answer.” He responded, and Ellen rolled her eyes.
“Because we don’t need to deal with this right now. Marcus loves that bike. What are we going to tell him?” Ellen sighed when Clint shrugged his shoulders.
“Max said she’ll fix it.” Clint answered.
2 Months Later…
“People are going to be arriving soon, Max.” Ellen announced as she pushed the door open. Today was the day Marcus was coming home from rehab, and next week, school was starting. Ellen felt relief for the first time in months, happy her son had seemed so much better. Marcus had even asked if Max could come to his rehab graduation, but Ellen didn’t want to put too much stress on him during such an important event. “Max?” Max was at her desk with headphones on, writing something in a notebook. “Max!?” Ellen raised her voice, and Max turned to look at her mom with complete confusion. Pulling her headphones down, Ellen could hear the faint sound of Max’s music… something acoustic. “People are going to be arriving soon.” Max tilted her head, the confusion and furrowed brow a much heavier expression she hadn’t associated with her daughter. “Marcus will be home soon too. Are you okay?” Max looked away for a moment, and in an instant, she gave a blinding smile and closed her notebook.
“So good! Marcus is going to love the party. You did such a great job, Mom!” Max complimented, the excitement easing the tension that coiled in Ellen’s chest. “I’ll be down right after I change! I need to find the perfect outfit!” That sounded just like the Max she knew, and Ellen laughed.
“Max, still thinking about what you’re going to decorate your room with? Now that Marcus is home, maybe I can help you come up with some ideas?” Ellen offered, noticing the lifeless walls and dark drawn curtains. Max kept a smile in place, and shrugged her shoulders.
“I think I’ll just leave it. It’s more functional like this anyways.” The words were strained, but the smile was still shining. Ellen nodded, sure Max just wanted to have the inspiration strike at the right time.
“Okay, well, hurry up.” Ellen left Max’s room, closing it so her daughter could change. Max smiled, walking up to the door and standing on her tip-toes to draw the lock she installed at the top of the door. She learned how to do it online, and neither of her parents had been inside her bedroom for months. As soon as the door was locked, Max allowed her smile to drop and her shoulders to droop. She was exhausted, and the voices in her head were getting louder and louder.
You’re too much. This isn’t about you. Stop being so dramatic. Get a grip. Why are you like this? No wonder they left you. No wonder they all hate you. They don’t know you. They don’t care about you.
This isn’t about you.
Stop making this about you.
“Just. Stop. Please.” Max winced, eyes closed tightly and gripping her head like it might explode. A shaky breath finally released when a bout of dizziness hit. She’d been holding her breath…
Why are you so selfish? He’s worked so hard and you’re ruining this for him.
Stop being so dramatic! Stop being so emotional! Just. “STOP!”
Max was panting, her hands shaking as she saw herself in the mirror. Her right hand held the blade, a thin trail of blood already seeping down like a velvet curtain. Her left hand gripped the hem of her hoodie, holding it up so she could finish drawing that practiced straight horizontal line just below her left breast and over her rips. There were other lines, various stages of healing… but the voices were quiet. Max hadn’t realized when her hand moved to trace the outline of two pink scars with the razor, adding fresh curtains of red to her skin.
“Maxine!” Her mom’s voice drifted from downstairs. Max could finally breathe, as if the cuts freed her lungs from an unseen suffocating force. She cleared her throat, tears filling her eyes as she looked at herself in the mirror. Thin, pale, eyes rimmed red and bloodshot, meticulous scars across her ribs, hands shaking and shame mixing with comfort at the release.
“Coming!” She yelled back, forcing herself to sound upbeat despite the dull hatred in her eyes as she stared at herself. Why couldn’t she just keep it together?
Max went to her desk, opening the bottom drawer and taking out the papers that covered the shoebox at the bottom of the drawer. Inside, she used paper towels to wipe the blood, quickly putting antibacterial ointment over the red lines and adding new bandages to cover her shame. She changed into a black shirt and a dark navy hoodie… just in case she bled through the bandage, it would be less risky that anyone would notice the blood through the dark fabric. With the bloody toilet paper shoved in her hoodie pocket, she exited and headed to the bathroom. She flushed the evidence down the toilet, touched up her makeup and thought of an excuse in case anyone noticed her bloodshot eyes. Max rolled her eyes at self-centered thoughts. Of course she’d believe someone would notice, as if the day was supposed to be about her.
“Honey, what took you so long? The girls are already in the backyard.” Ellen said with anxious exasperation.
“Hey, Max!” Georgia smiled, tilting her head when Max looked away and gave a quick ‘hi’ before darting out of the room. Ever since Georgia confronted Max in the garage about the motorcycle, Max had avoided the woman like the plague. Georgia was careful to broach the topic of the motorcycle with Ellen, confused when Ellen went into a full rant about Max confessing to the joyride and getting grounded. It didn’t take Georgia long to realize Max confessed to avoid Georgia broaching the topic. “How’s she been?”
“Max? She’s Max. She’s fine. Marcus even wanted her at his graduation, but I didn’t think it was a good idea.” Ellen brushed it off, finding busy work to fidget with as they waited for Marcus and Clint to return home. Georgia kept her opinions to herself, smiling at her friend.
“What’d Max think?” Georgia wondered, glancing towards the backyard. Ellen frowned, tilting her head with a sad smile.
“She said she understood. She was just happy Marcus was doing better. She really loves him.” Ellen let her shoulders sag as she finished rearranging cupcakes for the fifth time. Max closed the door to the garage, leaning against it as her head pounded. This happened sometimes… she’d feel nauseous and have a splitting headache, and her ribs would ache. It was easier to deal with those symptoms than the voices though. Max barely had energy left for this day, and she didn’t want to waste it going outside and sitting with ANG and prolonging her Oscar worthy performance. The selfish part of Max ached for Marcus to still hate her, to refuse to talk to her, because she was terrified that he’d look right through her soul and see just how broken she really was inside. But then there was that voice that said it didn’t matter… because he wouldn’t notice that she was drowning. Maxine may have noticed her twin’s pain, and maybe that was because she cared about her brother more than Marcus cared for her. Maybe she did love too much.
‘You coming tonight?-Q’ Max looked at the text message on her phone, and she ignored it. ‘$$$’ The next text said, and Max sighed. It’d be good to get out tonight. But she didn’t owe Q anything, so she read the texts and deleted them. He’d know she read them, and that’s what mattered. The sound of cheers drifted from the house, and Max sighed before placing a blinding smile on her face. She slipped into the house, seeing the backs of Abby, Norah, Silver, Brodie, Press, Tris, Nancy, Georgia, and at the front was Ginny giving Marcus a tight hug. Clint grinned from Marcus’s side, and Ellen held out a plate with cake on it for Marcus. Max’s fake smile softened as she saw her brother. He looked good. He looked clean and healthy and uncomfortable, but in a sheepish way. Marcus’s awkward expression shifted as he met his sister’s gaze, and Max froze. It was like a magnet pulled Marcus to her, because suddenly, her brother had his arms wrapped tightly around her torso. Max felt her eyes widen, and her throat constrict as she felt everyone’s stare land on them. She had to respond. She needed to respond. If she didn’t respond right, then they’d think something was wrong. Why was everyone staring? Marcus tightened the embrace, and Max grimaced in pain before releasing a strangled laugh.
“There’s easier ways to murder me.” Max said before she thought about her words, the humor in them followed by a forced laugh. Marcus pulled back, and before Max let him think too much, she put on the Max Show. “I’m so proud of you! You look so good! Except for your hair, you totally need a haircut! You look like you’re starving! Did they feed you? Let’s eat cake!” Max said in a dramatic whirlwind, pulling Marcus into a tighter hug and spinning him around with overflowing enthusiasm. The party guests laughed, and Ellen told her to calm down before she broke Marcus’s spine. With a boisterous laugh, Max released her brother and faded into the background as the rest of their… of his friends came up to welcome him home.
The party continued in joyous celebration, and Max managed to escape conversation with anyone by being around everyone. With a pitcher of juice in one hand, Max flitted around groups with various compliments, playing the perfect hostess and flowing like a butterfly in a field of flowers. Or a hummingbird… yeah, more like a hummingbird. The faster Max flapped her wings, the less likely people had time to ask her questions. Max ignored the stares of ANG, hyperfocusing on who hadn’t had enough cake yet, or who needed a new glass of water or juice.
‘You’ve been invited to LOCATION PIN.’ Max was in the kitchen by herself, throwing away plates as people finally seemed to begin to leave. She saw the new text message, a location for tonight’s meet finally shared. She probably shouldn’t go tonight, but…
“So, your phone does work? Good to know.” Abby had her arms crossed, expression bored. Max pocketed her phone, face shocked for a moment before she wrapped her arms around her torso and eyed Abby with caution. “Silent treatment? Really? That’s a little dramatic. Even for you.” Abby sounded hurt, and Max felt like the rug was pulled out beneath her feet.
“Abby, I really don’t know…” Max tried to keep her words from shaking, tried to keep the emotion from suffocating the conversation. “...what you want from me.” Abby frowned, looking Max up and down like she was some sort of imposter. “What do you want?” Abby Littman always had a way of getting under Max’s skin, for better or worse. She was Max’s polar opposite, calm and disinterested and above it all.
“I want you to let it go. Whatever this is, Max, let it go.” Abby spoke like it was simple and tedious, and whatever point Max was trying to prove was childish and immature. But Max couldn’t understand what Abby was saying because…
“I did. Can’t you see that, Abby? I did. I let MANG go. I let my friends go. I let Marcus go. I let myself go. Abby, there is nothing left of me to let go. It’s gone.” Maxine’s voice should’ve raised into a scream, but that Max was gone. She retreated… disappeared… and her voice got softer and quieter and further away. “It’s all gone. And this is what that looks like.” Abby furrowed her brow, shifting her weight from her left foot to her right uncomfortably, the argument dying on her lips because… there wasn’t anything to argue. Max wasn’t fighting. Abby swallowed thickly, a sudden lump in her throat and her eyes welling up with uncharacteristic tears as she realized… Max wasn’t fighting.
“I broke up with Tris.” Abby blurted out, expecting to get a reaction. Max looked down for a second, and then she gave Abby a sympathetic frown and furrowed brow.
“I’m sorry, Abby.” Max said it, but it didn’t sound… like Max. Her eyes were empty, and the kindness in her words was genuine but resigned.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Abby demanded. Max stretched her face into a shining smile and laughed.
“Nothing. I’m fine! We should get back to the party though. It’s Marcus’s night, and I don’t want to ruin that.” Max kept her smile in place as she brushed passed Abby. The redhead reached out, holding Max’s wrist tightly. Abby didn’t understand why the hell Max was acting so… weird all of a sudden. But before Abby could interrogate, Max’s smile dropped and a cold expression fell into place as Max tensed. “Just let me go. It’ll make things easier, Abby.” Abby felt like she’d been slapped across the face, her hand suddenly empty as Max slipped past into the living room with her blinding smile back in place like nothing happened. When Abby followed a few minutes later, Ginny and Norah immediately came to her side.
“So, what’d she say? Is she still mad?” Norah asked nervously. Ginny was a little more reserved, but just as desperate to hear Abby’s response.
“Why’d she skip the MANG hangouts?” Ginny had suggested they all meet at Blue Farm to catch up when she got back from South Korea, and it was unnerving to get only static back from Max. Abby looked worried, and that set off alarms. “Abby, did she say she’s still mad?”
“No, she… she said she let MANG go or some bullshit.” Abby hissed defensively, casting quick glances at Max as the extrovert kept fluttering around the room.
“What does that mean? We’ve been best friends since we were kids.” Norah shook her head. “I told you we should’ve apologized before summer.”
“There was a lot going on.” Ginny reminded, and Abby shot her a glare.
“Like Marcus having an alcohol problem and going to rehab? Newsflash, Max was the only one to care enough to do something about it.” Abby snapped, and a silence hung over the three teens. Ginny looked wounded, but she swallowed the lump in her throat and remained silent.
“Okay, maybe Max is just being dramatic? You know, like she’ll get over it once we apologize or something? You said it yourself, Max turns everything into a big deal.” Norah tried to reason, but Abby glared.
“Except she didn’t make this a big deal or a scene. She just told me to let go and walked away.” Abby snarled. “What the hell do we do with that?” There weren’t any answers, and ANG watched painfully as Max played hostess until the night was over. The Welcome Home celebration ended with Max cleaning up the kitchen as Ellen and Clint finished ushering guests out of the house. It was quiet… so quiet.
“We have a surprise for your brother in his room. Can you get him and let him know to meet us up there?” Ellen smiled at Max. “He’s in the garage. Wait a few minutes though so we can get setup.” Ellen disappeared, and Max finally allowed her plastic smile to drop. She was so exhausted. She finished the dishes before heading to the garage with a heavy sigh, rebuilding her mask and opening the door.
“Hey, Mom and Dad have a surprise for you in your room.” Max told Marcus after she saw him sitting in front of his partially finished canvas.
“Max, did you repaint my bike?” He quirked a curious eyebrow at his twin, and Max shrugged her shoulders with a wry smirk.
“I kinda crashed it so…” Max saw Marcus’s eyebrows lift.
“Really? Mom said you fell over a curb. So, you lied to Mom?” Marcus wasn’t judging, but Max glanced away. “I could’ve taught you to ride some time, you know that, right?”
“Don’t worry about it. And I didn’t… Mom and Dad didn’t need to worry, okay? I fixed the bike, and now it’s fine.” Max insisted, missing Marcus’s concerned frown. “Come on, Mom and Dad–”
“Max, were you okay?” Marcus questioned suddenly, and Max felt cold rush through her veins. “Did you get hurt?”
“I was fine, Marcus. Stop worrying. I’m here, aren’t I?” Max grit her jaw, forcing a tight smile even as her hands clenched in fists repeatedly like a pulse. “I’m sorry I messed up your bike, but I fixed it. Everything’s fine now.”
“...Okay, Max. I’m glad you’re okay.” Marcus spoke quietly, standing up and walking up to Max. “I can teach you how to ride, if you’re interested?”
“Don’t worry about it. Come on, before Mom and Dad worry.” Max didn’t stick around to see the surprise. She was exhausted, and drained, and definitely going out. She waited until the hall light finally turned off, and then she hid her pillows under the quilt on the off chance her parents actually looked in her room. Max grabbed a dufflebag from her closet, put her hood up, and made the practiced trek out her window. She walked the two blocks down to the neighbors that were gone most of the year, and pulled the old motorcycle from its parking spot hidden around a line of bushes. In her dufflebag, she put on the leather jacket over her hoodie and her motorcycle helmet, leaving the bag behind the bush and starting the motorcycle.
“You’re late.” It was the town over in the middle of nowhere, some abandoned construction company lot hidden from general view, where a circle of cars and motorcycles huddled at the late hour. “The bike is over here.” Q explained, gesturing to the dirtbike. “Track is lit by chem lights. Old quarry track.”
“Keys.” Max kept her helmet on and the visor down, her voice muffled through the gear. It felt good to be nobody. Q didn’t have expectations… or at least, Max didn’t care about his expectations. He provided the dirtbike or motorcycle, and Max would race. They’d split the wins or Q would leave with the loss. Q usually made money and didn’t have to risk his neck, and Max… Max could finally lose herself. The thoughts quieted, and she could finally focus on one thing. If she didn’t focus, she’d probably die. Somehow, that had become a comforting thought. It either worked out or it didn’t. Max either succeeded or she failed and never had to face the consequences.
“Keep it tight. Looks like rain is coming in.” Q said, placing the keys in Max’s hand. “Pot is looking like $10K tonight.” That was a lot of money, and even with them splitting the winnings, Max wasn’t sure what to do if she won. This wasn’t about the money for Max, it was about the quiet… It was about the peace. She’d have that peace one way or the other, and tonight… she needed it. “You have a target on your back. You won the last three races, and it’s made you pretty unpopular. Watch your back.” Max wouldn’t… she’d only watch what was in front of her. She didn’t need to be popular here. They didn’t know her. They didn’t need to like her. This wasn’t about them.
“Great, Brooding Barbie is back.” One of the other racers sneered from his bike, rolling his eyes when Q snarled threateningly. “The whole schtick is getting old.”
“If you’re so tired of losing, learn to drive better.” Q snapped. The other driver, Tag, laughed, gesturing to Max like she was some tool on a workbench.
“Sorry I’m not racing towards my death. Is that why we call you Ghost? I swear, you chase death like a stripper chasing dollar bills.” Max didn’t care, but Q cared. He cared, because Ghost had made him a lot of money over the last couple of months, and Ghost could stop racing at any moment. Q protected his investment.
“Shut the fuck up, or you’ll find yourself with a lot less teeth before the race even begins.” Q threatened. But the threat didn’t really matter, because the cavalier whistle broke through the night air, and that meant one thing… It was time for the starting line.
The voices finally quieted.
The gravel track grew wet, the loose gravel sinking tires and slowing reactions.
Max felt free.
The final turn was only wide enough for one bike to get through at a time. Max could feel Tag over her shoulder, but she didn’t look back. She couldn’t look back… not here.
One wrong move, and the bike would flip. One wrong move, and Max would be eating gravel or throwing away another pair of ripped jeans. One wrong move, and maybe Max would finally find peace.
But she’s a perfectionist. Even illegal racing, she hated the feeling of wrong more than the thought of finally finding peace. She beat Tag through the narrow turn, crossing the finish line and numbly getting off the bike. Finally… quiet.
“Great race, G! Here you go.” Q grinned as he accepted the money from the organizer, splitting it 50/50 with his anonymous racer. The easiest $5K he’s ever made… just bringing his bike and letting Ghost do whatever the hell she did during a race. Q only ever raced her once, and it was in that moment he realized she’d always beat him… because he’d always pull back. He wouldn’t fight for the lead because he had too much to lose. Ghost acted like she’d already lost everything. Like risk meant nothing. “I’ll see you around.” Max didn’t answer, just headed to her bike and stuffed the cash inside her jacket.
“You fucking bitch!” Tag came out of nowhere, his hands on Max’s shoulders as he tore her off her bike and threw her on the ground. His boot hit Max once, twice, three times… until Q tackled him to the ground. Max hadn’t even given Tag a second thought, but he was pissed. Her ribs hurt, every breath like fire and the bandage on her left side felt damp and losing its adhesive. Max laid flat on her back, trying to regain her breath as chaos erupted around her. Her helmet visor was cracked, leaving a spiderweb across her vision. “She could’ve gotten me killed!” Tag screamed as he was back on his feet, pointing accusingly at Max over Q’s shoulder.
“It’s not her fault if you fucking risk your life!” Q shouted. A woman leaned over Max, offering a hand and a worried frown.
“You okay?” She asked. Max had seen her around, she knew the woman had spoken to her before, but Max didn’t care. Max glanced at her motorcycle that had fallen on its side, seeing one of the side mirrors was busted and laying a few feet away. If it was broken, and if it was broken she couldn’t adjust it. And if she couldn’t adjust it, she couldn’t make sure her bike was perfect. If her bike wasn’t perfect, someone she loved would get hurt. She’d need a new mirror to fix it, and the mirror would take at least a week. “Ghost, are you okay?” Max tasted copper on her tongue, but she wasn’t sure if she bit her cheek or her tongue or she was just being dramatic. Panic and anger welled up inside. She stood up, ripping her cracked helmet off and throwing it at Tag. The guy was still arguing with Q, and the helmet smacked him across the face.
“Fuck.” He winced, about to snap at whoever threw it at him, but a fist connected with his nose. “Fuckin’ fuck.” He gurgled through the blood, face paling when he saw the girl. It was the first time he’d seen Ghost’s face, and he hadn’t realized… uh, she was a teenager.
“Fuck off.” Max hissed at Q when he tried to reach out. She stormed over to her bike, picking it up. Her helmet laid on the gravel, the cracked visor covered in dust. When Max arrived back at her neighbor’s vacant house, it was almost sunrise.
“Well, aren’t you up early?” That southern accent made Max freeze. “Max, what are you doing over here at 4 in the mornin’? And where’s your helmet?” Georgia quirked an eyebrow knowingly. She’d noticed a pattern on some mysterious biker that seemed to be at a vacant house, and Georgia spent plenty of the summer following her suspicions. Max hadn’t turned around yet. “Maxine, are you okay?” Georgia softened, and her eyes widened when Max finally turned around with a blinding smile that didn’t match her dull eyes, bleeding lip, or dusty leather jacket.
“I’m fine! Please don’t tell my parents. They’ve got enough to worry about with Marcus just getting back, and everything’s fine.” Max smiled. Georgia felt her heart break at Max’s desperate facade. “I’ll tell them, I just… wanted to wait for the right time.” Georgia nodded slowly, more for Max’s benefit than belief.
“You will tell them, and get a proper license. But… come on, at least park the bike in my garage. You shouldn’t be walkin’ out here by yourself in the dark, Maxine. It could be dangerous.” Georgia chided lightly, walking side by side with Max as the teen walked the bike towards Georgia’s house.
“I have a license.” Max finally whispered.
“What?” Georgia knew Ellen would’ve mentioned it if Maxine started wanting a motorcycle license. “How’d you get a motorcycle license without your parents knowin’?”
“I just… I did… it’s technically a learner’s permit. And it’s registered.” That was true too.
“But it doesn’t have insurance.” Georgia quirked an eyebrow, noticing the lifeless shrug Maxine gave in response. “Max, you could get seriously hurt. You know that, right?”
“I’ll tell them.” Max said instead. Georgia sighed as the bike was parked in her garage, frowning as she looked Max over in the proper light.
“You look a bit roughed up. Did you fall?” Georgia had asked Ginny what Max had been up to over the summer, and Ginny just shrugged it off like the question hadn’t even occurred. Georgia had asked Ellen how Max was coping with Marcus being in rehab, and Ellen waved it off because Max was fine. Max was always fine.
“I’m fine. Really. Just tired.” Max looked exhausted, but Georgia was worried it was about more than just a sleepless night.
“Okay. Come over with your mom to get your bike later, okay? And I better see a helmet next time.” Max smiled, walking back to her house. The door would still be locked, so she slunk around to climb back into her window. Her side was burning. Finally, in the safety of her bedroom, she locked the door, drew the curtains, and took off her leather jacket. Lifting her hoodie and shirt, Max grimaced at the dark purple bruises and the smattering of red as her cuts reopened. Tag’s boot caused some damage, and she probably couldn’t go back to the races soon since her outburst. Why did she take her helmet off?
“That was the one place I didn’t have to be me…” Max whispered, burying her head in her hands as she sunk onto the edge of her bed. She was exhausted… so exhausted. And now, she needed to tell her parents about the motorcycle before they found out from Georgia. Max could spin this… she could figure this out. She just needed a nap first. Just rest her eyes for a minute…
Max hadn’t realized she’d laid back on her bed. She didn’t realize she’d closed her eyes. She didn’t even realize she left her boots on, her dirty jeans sticking to her legs, her throbbing side screaming against the awkward position. Until the pounding started. It wasn’t just in her head, it was the door. The door she locked. Max winced as she shot up in bed, her side felt like a bag of needles being beaten against a pile of broken glass.
“Max, breakfast is ready!” Marcus shouted, and Max grimaced as she forced as much nonchalance into her tone as she could muster.
“Thanks! Just a minute! Perfection takes time!” She waited a beat before hearing him chuckle.
“Whatever. See you downstairs.” Marcus’s footsteps disappeared, and Max pulled herself to her feet. She changed into sweatpants and a new hoodie, swinging by the bathroom to make herself presentable. “Thought you said perfection?” Marcus teased, tilting his head in confusion. Ellen spun around with a spatula in one hand.
“Hey Mom, where’s Dad?” Max ignored Marcus, a smile plastered on her face and her tone upbeat.
“What happened to your lip?” Marcus interrupted, and drew Ellen’s attention to Max’s face.
“I bit it while I was reading a People’s magazine quiz! Did you know your moon sign says more about your future love life than your birth year?! I’m thinking of learning how to read palms!” Max hadn’t read magazines in months, but it felt like a Max-thing to say. And by the laugh from her mom, it was the right thing to say. Clint walked into the room with a smile, signing his good mornings to his family. Max took a deep breath, jumping right into the deep end with over excitement and bouncing onto her feet. “I have an announcement! I got my motorcycle license this summer, and I’ll be driving myself to school this year! That way you don’t have to worry about me getting to school or anything! I got it all handled! And I already got a bike! Isn’t that awesome?!”
“What?” Clint had been watching the rapid signing from his daughter, but the conversation was so out of the blue he must’ve missed something. Ellen stared agape, and Marcus tilted her head in confusion. “When did you get your license? How?”
“Technically it’s still a learners permit for a couple more months, but it’s totally fine!” Max grinned.
“How did you afford a bike?” Ellen blinked, looking like an owl. Max waved it off, a smile even wider now.
“I got a summer job! Oops, did I forget to mention that? I thought, you know what? I totally need something on my college applications, and earning my own money is a good idea, right? So, I worked hard and bought a motorcycle and isn’t that awesome!?” Max’s enthusiasm was blinding, like staring into the sun. Ellen tried to formulate words, looking to Clint for help and just getting a shrug from him.
“Umm… wow, you’ve been busy. Congrats, Max. I wish you would’ve told us sooner though.” Ellen finally said, and Max bit her lip out of habit.
“Sorry, I just wanted it to be a surprise.” Her voice didn’t hit the excitement level she’d been going for and Max felt drained again. “Can I still drive it to school?”
“Sure, honey. But, your friends will need to ask permission from their parents before they ride with you. And only after you get your full license.” Ellen responded.
“Awesome! Thanks, Mom! Georgia kinda caught me hiding it, so she made me park it at her place until I told you so…” Max gave a sheepish smile filled with shining excitement, and Ellen rolled her eyes.
“Oh, I see now. You got caught and that’s why you’re telling us now.” Ellen teased, glad her friend was keeping her daughter safe. Max gave an ‘oops’ and a little sweet shrug. Marcus studied Max with a frown, feeling something off but he didn’t know what.
“Can we go get my bike now?” Max grinned, and Ellen sighed.
“Okay.” Ellen walked with Max across the street, and Georgia answered the door with a quirked eyebrow. “Max already told me. Thank you, Georgia.” The woman nodded, tilting her head as she eyed Max with a skeptical quirk of her eyebrow.
“Of course. Come on, it’s in the garage.” Georgia opened the garage and Ellen smiled in confusion at the motorcycle. It was black and a dark smoky grey. There wasn’t a single pop of color. It seemed so… unlike Max. “You gonna bring it home, Max?” The teen’s fake smile was still in place as she swung a leg over with a practiced ease.
“Thanks for keeping it safe, Georgia!” Max grinned.
“You’re riding a motorcycle now?” It was Ginny’s voice that dimmed the fake smile for only a flicker. Max was looking away, gathering herself before she added a blinding laugh with a playful shrug of her shoulders.
“What says girl-power more than transportation freedom! Am I right?!” Max grinned, and as if to make a point, she started the bike and revved the engine.
“Maxine, you don’t have a helmet on!” Ellen scolded, and Max laughed.
“Sorry, I’m just taking it home! Love you! Bye!” Max exited, leaving a confused Ginny, an exasperated Ellen, and a worried Georgia.