To right a life

CVII

"So... when are you going to fix things with Mike?" Max asks as she collapses on her bed.

   "I don't know..." Eleven murmurs, looking through the window of Max's room; night has fallen a while ago, and movement is minimal.

   "You ignored him this whole week, all while he keeps looking at you with puppy eyes," her friend points out. "At first I thought it was funny; now I feel sorry for him..."

   Eleven grimaces. "I don't know what to do."

   Max rolls her eyes. "Who could have guessed it?" she asks sardonically. "And here I thought you were running away from your boyfriend because you were bored..."

   Eleven looks down. "I'm... sad," she confesses.

   "I thought you were ridiculously happy after Henry healed Poe..." Eleven smiles instantly. "Oh, Eleven..."

   "And I am," she admits. "Poe... is healthy. But I still have this issue..."

   "Issue?"

   "I don't know how I feel," she confesses.

   Max stands up suddenly, her blue eyes shining with unusual seriousness. "I'm going to need you to be more specific."

   "I... feel bad."

   "Because Mike told you that what you did was wrong?"

   Eleven frowns and weighs her words. "No... I know he's right."

   Max bites her lower lip. "If you hadn't just admitted that he's right, I would have said it was out of pride. But obviously it's not that. What is it, then? What else bothers you?"

   Eleven makes a grimace. "I... don't know."

   "Hm." Max reflects for a moment, and finally suggests: "How about you tell me again what happened that day? But don't leave out any detail. What you saw, what you thought. All of it."

   So Eleven does.

#

Having heard Angela's lies firsthand, Henry has come to a decision: she cannot be allowed to live. For much less he has murdered his sister; what could be said about a being as vile as this girl?

   Then, taking advantage of the fact that Eleven has stayed the night at Max's, Henry meets up with her again.

   This time, he picks her up from a park near her house and takes her out of town.

   "Lest Jane or one of her friends finds out you're telling me about her," is the excuse he gives. If Angela had any brains, she would avoid being alone with a stranger, especially at night.

   Luckily for him, her hormones override any suspicion or distrust: Henry tries hard not to read her mind while driving, lest one of the explicit images of him in her head disgusts him so much that he ends up losing control of the vehicle.

   When they finally arrive at the shopping center in the nearby city, they walk for a few minutes before going to sit at one of the tables in a not-so-crowded restaurant—because the fewer memories he must manipulate later, the better.

   Henry orders a Caesar salad and settles in to listen to the usual string of lies about Eleven.

#

"And... that's what happened," Eleven concludes after telling the entire story, this time, without the rush instilled by being in the middle of a class.

   Max thinks about it for a moment. "From what you're saying... Well, the truth is that I want to punch Mike in the face," she huffs, a grimace of annoyance disfiguring her fine features.

   Her friend's words surprise her. "Punch Mike... in the face?"

   The girl shrugs her shoulders. "Oh, I want to punch Angela too, but you already took care of that, so all that's left is Mike, I guess."

   Eleven laughs and rushes to press a hand to her mouth.

   "It's fine, she's a bitch, it's known." Max makes a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Now, Mike... Why the fuck wasn't he by your side at that skating rink?"

   "Uh, he was trying to stop the... DJ and—"

   "And did he manage to do it?"

   "No... But he tried—"

   "He should have tried to be by your side, then." Max does not try to hide the indignation that fills her being. "What? Had he succeeded, would Angela and her friends have stopped once they noticed the music was gone? 'Oh, no, guys, we can't be little shits to Jane anymore, we don't have a soundtrack' or something like that?" She rolls her eyes. "Mike could really use an extra braincell."

   Although the tone in which she says it is decidedly comical, Eleven feels a lump tightening in her throat with each word. She is not surprised when, by the end of Max's speech, a tear escapes her eyes.

   This scares her friend.

   "Shit, Eleven, what did I do?" The girl puts her hands on her shoulders, searching her gaze. "Are you okay...? I shouldn't have insulted him; I know you like him and—"

   "Yes," she admits in a low voice, making an effort to look her friend in the eyes. "I like him."

   Max purses her lips and rushes to apologize: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

   "And that's why," Eleven sputters, feeling something break inside her and escape to the surface in the form of more tears, "it hurt me so much that he didn't defend me."