"Stop it, you two. Bucky and I are friends. Don't even go there." I shook my head at them.
"Oh, come on Max! You know you have a thing for him!" The blonde teased.
"Had. I had a thing for him. Past tense. And that was, like, my sophomore year of h...
Talks of the following topics occur in this chapter: domestic violence and suicide. PLEASE read with caution!
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The rest of the shift went by agonizingly slow as I thought over how the conversation with Bucky is going to go.
What really happened between him and Dot? Is it truly over between them? If it is, would he be okay with me telling her? If it isn't, why are we doing this then? Would he hear that she misses him and go running back?
By the time that I clocked out from the theatre at 8:00 and headed home, my mind was a melted puddle of panicked thoughts that were jumping from horrible possibility to horrible possibility. It was nice enough out that I was able to take my time and skate home, allowing me to not have to ask anyone for a ride without it seeming odd. I was able to enjoy the fresh air as it cooled my skin and I felt my mind finally shut the fuck up for five minutes as I rode my board and muscle memory finally took over. The wheels rolling over the hard pavement and the board tilting with my body weight as I made my turns. It was a rare occurrence when the wind was working with me, not against me. Allowing me to move my board and body with ease. The grip tape seemed to blend in with the black of my high tops, only allowing the white of the Converse logo to pop against the dark colors pooling over my feet.
The ride home was somehow the longest ride I have ever taken but not long enough. Knowing the inevitable conversation we would have to have.
I opened the front door and set my board down next to it after pushing it closed with my hip. It was silent for only a second before I heard Buckys laugh. The kind of belly laugh that always makes his whole body shake and throw his head back as he clutches his stomach.
Following the noise, I ended up in the kitchen and was greeted by him smiling from ear to ear while his nose scrunched up and his eyes squinted shut. And in that moment, I forgot every worry and wasn't scared for the conversation. I'd have a thousand days of being tormented by my thoughts if it meant coming home to this, to his laugh filling the house. Coming home to him.
"Hey, Max! Welcome home, kiddo!" Steve yelled handing me a Dr. Pepper as he reached into the fridge to grab himself a beer. Bucky turned to face me and his eyes softened as he stared at me, still smiling, but softer like an awe struck kid.
"Hey, Stevie! What're you guys doing tonight?" I asked lifting the pop tab up and bending it back and forth until it dropped into the can and sunk to the bottom. It was Monday night so probably going to the bar for a few rounds to start the week.
"I'm heading to the bar," shocker, he isn't predictable at all, "and Buck has some work he has to get done. So he's about to head out. What're you doing? Is the dynamic duo coming over tonight?"
