TANGLED PLANS

58

The next day, when I see Max at school, I find him standing by my locker. After having shared all that I did the day before, I'm kind of nervous as I approach him. Max heads toward me as soon as I am close enough; his arms wrap around my waist to pull me close. I'm sure I gasped at the unexpectedness of the action.

The hug is warm and comfortable. His hands around me make it seem like there is something positive about it. Max pulls one of his hands away while he keeps the other one light on my waist. I'm looking at him in confusion when he lets out a chuckle.

"Right," Max says with a little shake of his head. "I should tell you about my excitement before attacking you with a hug."

Not that I mind.

"Hm?" Max asks, and it takes me a second to realize I had said that out loud. I didn't have much of a mouth filter around Max anymore. The thought was both troubling and a bit comforting. I had grown used to Max. He squeezes my waist and then says, "I'll keep that in mind for the future."

That makes me smile. I hadn't expected him to be this affectionate with me in the future. I'm not sure how it happened, but we have developed into something more in the span of not even a full day.

Max grins, his lips pulled far apart, and the lightness in his eyes returns. "As per your persistence that I do so, I talked to my dad."

I studied his face and how there was no tension in it. He was truly happy as he stood here with a hand around my waist. "Judging by your positive energy, I take it it went well."

"More than I thought it would," Max says with a little laugh. "I thought my dad would... I don't know. I didn't think he would be so supportive or disturbed. I'm not sure."

"But it went well?" I ask him with a little tilt of my head. Max nods and says, "Dad said he wouldn't be calling my mom anymore. He knows that my acting out was her fault and that I didn't need to see her anymore. He even went as far as asking me if I wanted to see someone."

I don't know why I question if I should do it; I mean, Max was leaning toward me, his hand pulling me toward him. With a little hesitation, I braved my actions and put my hand on his chest. Just lightly, but enough to get closer to him. I look up at him and say, "So are you going to see someone?"

Max glances down at my hand, and maybe sensing that I had wanted to take it off from self-consciousness, he places his other hand on mine. He then picks our hands up and interlocks them. "I'm not sure yet. I mean, I don't know if I am ready to talk about what happened yet. Maybe I'll consider it."

I keep my gaze on him and feel my heart warming at the sight. When I whisper my next sentence, there isn't an ounce of falsehood in the words that I share. I felt it in my heart; I felt it was as easy as breathing. "I'm proud of you, Max."

My words cause Max to smile in a way that I haven't seen before. He inhales a breath and leans down to press his forehead against mine. "Thank you, sweetheart."

The nickname he uses sounds so much nicer today. Today, for some reason, I'm free to let my mind wander to places where I was restricted. It felt nice to hear him call me something and mean it so much.

The bell for school, starting at last, rings, and Max groans in agony. I laugh and pull away from him, but Max brings me back toward him with a tug on my hand. I'm turned back to him, where he leans down and presses a kiss so close to my lips that I swear I felt his own on mine. But he hadn't met our lips together yet.

He pulls away and holds our hands, which he had brought back together. Smiling at it, he says, "Can I walk you to class?"

I nod, which causes the both of us to walk toward my class together. Walking with Max with our hands together makes me a little nervous—it wasn't like anyone was watching us, but I felt exposed. Once we are standing in front of my class, Max turns toward me and says, "I'll see you in science."