Page 81 of Revenge At Raleigh High
I stare at the new clock beside my bed, not thinking. Trying desperately and failing not tofeelanything…
“Silver?”
Max hovers in the open doorway to my bedroom, looking down at his socks. Over the past three weeks, Max has come to visit me nearly every day, but he’s been quiet and withdrawn. I’ve wanted to spend time with him, hang out and talk to him about school, and Jamie, and whatever video game he’s been playing, but the opportunities have been thin on the ground. At the hospital, there were always doctors and nurses coming in and out like my room had a revolving door on it, checking on me, asking questions, recording my stats, running more tests. My parents were there without fail, one of them always sitting by my bedside, trying to make me laugh or feel better, when all I wanted to do was shrink into a fetal position beneath my sheets and cry.
This is the first time we’ve been alone since the night I nearly died.
Propping myself up on my elbow, I close one eye, squinting at him. “Hey, buddy. What’s up?”
Max swallows hard, gradually lifting his gaze to look at me. “Are you mad at me?” he whispers.
This has me sitting upright in no time. “God, no. Why would I be mad at you, bud? Come on. Come here and sit down.”
My brother comes and perches on the edge of the bed, halfheartedly petting Nipper when he nudges his nose into his hands, looking for a treat. “Well, I was mean to you,” Max whispers. “I called you a bad name.”
Bitch. He’d called me a bitch at Jamie’s. With everything going on, I completely forgot that even happened. “Dude. It doesn’t matter. We all get frustrated and lash out sometimes. It’s not a big deal.”
He sniffs. “I felt bad about it. Afterwards. At the new house. And then you got hurt, and I thought you were gonna die, and—”
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m okay now. And I love you, Maxie. It doesn’t matter. It’s tough being eleven. Sometimes, it feels like the world’s against you and you react badly. I know you didn’t mean it.”
“You do?”
“Of course.” He looks so miserable, but when I tell him this, a spark of life seems to return to his dark eyes. Eyes like Dad.
“Okay. Well. I’m sorry. I won’t ever call you a bad name again. And, um, I know you don’t ruin everything. I was just mad, because Mom moved out and took me to the new house, and I didn’t like it, and—”
“Shhh, it’s fine. I know.” I pull him further onto the bed, into a tight hug. He sniffles, hiding his face into my hair. “I know everything’s different now that Mom and Dad aren’t together anymore, but it doesn’t really change that much. They both still love you. And so do I. You just get to have two bedrooms now. And double the cool stuff. Dad got you a new PlayStation to keep here, didn’t he?”
“No. He got anXbox.”
“Ahh, you know Dad. He has no idea. We can take it back and exchange it if you like.”
“No.” Max leans back, smiling a little. “I like having both. I just need to get some new games.”
“See. Twice the cool stuff. Maybe next week, I can come get you and we can go to the store or something.”
Max nods. He seems much happier now that he knows I don’t despise him for being difficult. “Mom can’t stop sneezing. She says she’s allergic to the dog. We have to go home in a minute. Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah, bud. I am, I promise. Everything’s A-Okay now.” Lies, lies, and more lies. For Max’s sake, I’ll tell them.
“Are you gonna go and see Alex tonight?” he asks. “I like him. I didn’t mean to call him stupid.”
“Uhhhh, I don’t think so. I don’t think Alex and I are gonna be spending much time together from now on.” Man, it’s a miracle that I managed to get that statement out without bursting into tears. I’m quite proud of myself; my voice barely even wobbled.
Max’s frown takes up half of his face. “But why? Don’t you love him anymore?”
Oh, god. Comeon. This is excruciating. “Yeah. I love him more than anything.”
“So…he doesn’t love you?”
My chest pinches, a sharp pain stabbing into my heart. It’s just my ribs, I tell myself. But it’s not. My broken ribs never hurt as much as the idea that Alex doesn’t love me anymore. “I—I guess I don’t know. But he doesn’t seem to want to be around me right now, so…”
“You should go see him,” Max says firmly. “I think you should find out. And if he says he doesn’t love you anymore, then you’ll know. And you can burn down his trailer.”
“Shit, Max.” I laugh. “I’m not going to burn down his trailer. That’s crazy.” I’ve thought about it, though. I’ve already struck the match and flicked it into the gasoline doused double-wide more times than I can count over the past ten hours. I shouldn’t have. None of this was his fault. This is all on me.
I haven’t texted Alex. It felt wrong to make contact somehow, knowing that he was out there, free as a bird within the Raleigh city limits, and he hasn’t made any attempt to come and find me. It’s been three weeks, for crying out loud. We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in three long, horrific, painful weeks, and Alex has just gone about his life, probably heading on home when he knows I’ve been in the hospital? Reaching out to him…it’s just felt like the wrong thing to do.
