ḾṎᕍ⁅ᖇṈ ℄Ṏv⁅ | The Lost Boys

ᏨᏲᾀᑬt⁅ᖇ ຮḭჯ

Max had a nice car. Like, a really nice car. It had air conditioning that actually worked and a stereo system out of this world—and windows that actually worked.

He made light conversation in between me giving directions.

"Your necklace is pretty."

"Oh, thank you." I fiddle with the quartz, feeling its weight in my palm. "It used to be my mom's, but I took it from her so often that she eventually let me have it."

"Do you like crystals?"

"I guess so, yeah. They're pretty."

Max hums thoughtfully, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. "What's your favorite?"

"Um, well, I like quartz, but I think my favorite is obsidian."

He nods, "Remind me, which one is that again?"

"A black one. I don't know why but I've always liked it. And Onyx."

"There's a shop on the boardwalk, somewhere around the theaters, I think. I never go down that way, myself, but I have seen the owner during the occasional meeting. Nice woman."

I smile. "That's nice. I'll have to check it out. Maybe I'll find mom something, as a thank you for letting me steal her necklace."

Max chuckles. I can see why my Mom finds him attractive. "That's very generous of you. You have a giving heart—just like your mother."

"I dunno about that, but thank you. Turn left up here."

Max made the turn. "How do you like Santa Carla so far?"

"It's okay. We used to come up here a lot during the summer, but we haven't in almost a decade."

"It's a wonder we never met until now."

"There's a lot of people in Santa Carla."

"That is true." He reaches down and turns the dial. A new radio station comes on. It's not a genre I particularly like, but it's not like I'm listening to it anyway.

To fill the silence, I carry on talking. "Honestly, I feel like a bit of an outcast here. Everything is so vibrant and different."

"Do you not like different?" He wonders.

"It's not that I don't like it as much as it's a lot to get used to. I'm not really the adventurous type. Mikey and Sammy, they have their moments, but not me. I'm more of a homebody."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"You would be one of the first to think it."

Max glances at me. "Home is where the heart is, as they say."

"The heart is mom."

"A home needs a heart. A mother. That much is true, but a home also needs a good foundation, something to hold it steady and make sure that it doesn't sink or shift. You strike me as that kind of person, the foundation, if you will."

I'm glad that it's dark out because I feel my face heating up. "That's nice of you to say. I guess I am an exception to the middle kid rule—you know, how they're supposed to be wild and all that. I guess I tried to be like that once, but Mom's always needed a friend, especially this last year with everything. I guess I tried to become that."

Max smiles, fondness in his eyes. "I wish my boys had someone like you around. Maybe you could knock some sense into them."

"You have sons?"

"Oh yes. They are," he pauses, whistling, "They are a handful. I try the best that I can, I try to give them structure and stability, but there are certain things I am not capable of giving them."

"I'm sure you do fine."

"They might disagree with you. What my boys need is something they've never had, a mother. A heart. Or, a foundation, for that matter." At this, he lightly nudges me. "I hope one day they can have it before it's too late."

The conversation had taken a strange turn. I smile awkwardly as words evaded me.

Max pulls up to my house, the totem poles towering over us menacingly. However, he doesn't unlock the door.

"Look, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I do want you to know: I like your mother very much. She's ... She's unlike any woman I've ever met. I know I've only known her a few days, and I understand you all are going through a difficult transition..."

I cut off his ramblings gently. "She likes you, too, Max."

"Really?" I nod. Max exhales, running a hand through his hair. "Then you wouldn't mind if I asked her on a date?"

"You seem like a great guy. I think she would love that. It's up to her to say yes," I reminded him.

"Of course! Thank you—Your consent means more to me than you know."

He unlocks the car, and I pop open the door. "Thank you again for this. You saved my ass."

"Any time. You have a good night!"

I wave goodbye and open the front door. I managed to bypass both Mom and Sam without raising alarm. Grandpa peeked out from his taxidermy room and acknowledged me with a grunt before returning to his work, not saying a word about Michael's absence.

I don't even remember until much later that I'd stopped giving Max directions halfway home.