High

Chapter Sixteen-Rumors

I stood up, pushing my fatigued body towards the direction of the door.

Someone had knocked on it.

Groggy from my unplanned nap, I opened the door wide without registering who might be on the other side of it.

I saw his retreating figure, tense from the tasks that had, no doubt, spread him too thin.

"Max?" I asked, and upon hearing my voice, he turned around. His light green eyes met my tired, bloodshot ones.

Once he took in my eyes, how hollow and tired they looked, he whispered in a sullen tone, as if he could take everything back, "Elliott."

His eyes traveled down my body, which was covered in grey sweatpants and an emerald green hoodie. My hair was disheveled, and my lips were chapped.

I licked my lips on instinct, "I'm fine." I said myself. I was just hoping that he would buy it.

He stepped forward and stood by the edge of my apartment door. He didn't want to overstep his boundaries.

His eyes looked sincere, "I just wanted to check up on you. Ellie, I'm so so -"

"Look, Chris and I talked, and he said that this will blow over. So, you don't have to worry about anything. I'm fine."
He opened his mouth to say something but frowned. Instead, he looked quite deep in thought, "Can I use your bathroom for a second?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but I closed it. I sighed and moved my body away from the door.

"Thanks." He said hurriedly as he practically whizzed past me.

I looked at his retreating figure and sighed tiredly. Before I closed the door, I stuck my head out into the hallway.

I couldn't be too sure.

Once I locked the door, my eyes glanced towards my phone. I'd left on the coffee table for my own sanity.

After spending an ungodly amount reading almost every single article about me, I decided that I had to switch off my cellphone.

I hadn't realized that throughout the time I had spent reading those articles about me, tears had streamed down on my face.

Before Maxwell came by, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't help but keep myself occupied with the things that were written about me. Some facts about me were true. I came from a broken home and an older sister who committed arson.

Other facts were on the cusp of being truthful but had missed the mark.

While some, you could tell that the writers let their imaginations go wild. The headlines on every article ranged from intriguing to outright comical.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when Maxwell touched my shoulder. I jerked away from him, and my neck craned to his face.

His eyes zeroed in on my cheeks. Instinctively, I touched them lightly, and my fingers felt damp. I silently cursed, I hadn't realized that I was crying.

Again.

I sniffed, quite unlady like, "I'm fine. Max, you should just go." I spoke away from him. My tone was hollow and dismissive.

Maxwell spoke up, "Ellie. I'm not leaving."

He plopped himself down on the couch, next to me.

I turned away from him, irked by the fact that his presence, even though I didn't want to admit it, comforted me.

"It's just a few tears, Max," I chuckled humorously, "I'll get over it. I'll be fine."

I felt his arm rest on the back of the couch, and I resisted the urge to look at him. He was staring at me. Intensely.

He spoke at me, determination laced in his tone, " I know you're gonna be okay. But not right now. I'm not leaving."

"Just because I shed a few tears?" I turned to face him.

"No," He replied, his eyes laced with concern, "Because you called me Max. Instead of Maxwell, and when that happens, I know that I have to stick by you."

He glanced towards the trinket he'd gotten me years ago, "So I'm sticking."

***

"You want some tea?" Maxwell spoke over the noise from the boiling kettle. Max had taken the liberty of making himself feel at home. In my apartment.

Without asking.

I tightened the blanket around my body, and I nodded. Maxwell pulled out two cups from my cupboard.

"You want chamomile or green tea?"

"Chamomile." I replied.

He nodded and poured the boiling liquid into two small cups.

Max placed the two cups of boiling hot chamomile tea on the coasters, and he plopped next to me.

Silence enveloped us as I became intentionally captivated with the delicate steam coming from my cup, watching as it disappeared into the air.

"You shouldn't be here." I spoke into the silence. "Ellie," Maxwell sighed out, checking his phone, "I'm not leaving, I've already said it before."

I turned to him, and his head was turned down into the direction of his phone. Worry lines were etched into his forehead as he scrolled up, rechecking his feed. I bet it was about me, no doubt.

I placed my figurative foot down, my tone holding more assertion to it than I had originally planned, "You need to leave. You being here only adds more fuel to the drama."

He opened his mouth to speak once more, ready to defend his past actions, dumb actions.

"Maxwell, please." I begged him, and he looked at my face, and he tilted his face sideways. His brows were furrowed. He was deep in thought.

A traitorous strand fell over his eyes. He brushed it away as he spoke, "I've been your best friend for 17 years. I know how you act when you're hurt. So, for the last time, Elliott, I'm not leaving."

"Why?" I asked, frustrated over the fact that he was so stubborn about this, "You do understand that half of this is your fault? If you would just listen to your stupid PR team and listen, this would eventually die down."

Maxwell let out a tired sigh, "Could you at least drink your tea?" He glanced at me, and I sputtered, "W-what? Why?"

He didn't say anything but moved his upper body and stretched out his hands towards the cups that were placed by him on the coffee table.

He handed it to me and looked at me expectedly. I crossed my arms, protesting at his gesture.
I stood up with my arms still crossed, "Once you're done with your tea, you're gonna get out." I stated and turned around to head to my room.

"Do you really want me to leave?" His voice called out to my retreating figure, "Do you want me to leave you alone right now?"

"You shouldn't be here in the first place." I retorted to the door, not ready to face him.

"I'm aware." He admitted, "But you have to keep on mind that we were best friends for the longest time."

I whipped around to face him, all of my emotions bubbling to the surface.

"Do you honestly have to throw that in my face every two seconds. I know that we were friends Max, I was there!"

He nodded, his eyes cast down to the ground, "I'm reminding you cause, even though we haven't been friends as of late. I still know you better than anyone. Even yourself."

"Is this some kind of ploy, Max?"

"How long have you been scrunching your top in your fist? How long have you been chewing your nails? Did you even notice that you were tapping your left fingers on your thigh?"

"You may have not noticed Ellie. But I did. Cause we're friends, Ellie. I'm always going to be your friend even when you may not want me to be."