Marlowe's Massacre | ;

CHAPTER 14

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[.20.3.30]

It had been too bright for Max, too late in the day when he woke up again, this time at 4:11—the afternoon light had made him realize only one little thing, that he had slept in. It felt good. Normalizing. No headache. No Marlowe. Not even an unwanted urge circulated through his body, only the best parts stood strong despite the long night—and he thanked his mind for the peacefulness of it all.

"You shouldn't be sleeping this late." André announced leaning on the frame of his door. A bowl of cereal in one hand, his cocky demeanor in the other. "However, I'll let it slide."

Getting from off his bed, Max made his way to the bathroom. He was about to ask André why he was here but then he remembered. "You know, you are very hectic when you're drunk, right?" He engaged back as André followed, eating a spoonful of Lucky Charms. "I thought you died last night, you know?"

"Could say the same about you, you know."

"Fair enough." In the half bathroom, Max brought white toothpaste to his teeth and brushed in such a boyish way no one would see the problem unless that someone was a mother. André scooped another spoonful of cereal in his mouth. Max's brain put one and two together. "I have cereal here? I don't remember the last time I ate it, honestly. That might have expired some time ago."

"That could explain why the milk was a bit churred." André said, dropping the spoon into the empty bowl of milk.

"There's no way...you're disgusting." Max laughed, wiping his face. "If you throw it up all right now, I'll forgive you."

"Whatever."

"I'm serious." He said coming out toward the kitchen.

"I'm fine." André protested dumping the milk down the sink. "No one can survive with coffee and stale toast anyway." He joked.

"That's why you're tagging along." Max said putting the coffee mugs from last night in the sink. "To the store."

"Hell no, I'm busy."

"Doing what? Bullshit."

"No."

"Nice try." Max mocked coming over to the living room space to fix up the couch. "Get ready."

"If I get ready, wear something cool. After we take the groceries back, we'll go out later."

"Later, where?"

"I don't know, out? You need a shot or two."

"There's plenty of liquor here."

"Not the same, I'll roll one maybe two for us."

Max turned back to look at André. There was no getting away from this. Perhaps the thought of getting high with him peaked his interest for a bit. "If I say okay, you'll get ready?"

"Yeah."

"Here's my answer, get dress."

~~~

It takes four hours of André carelessly dropping chips, cookies, sodas and boxes of cereal into the cart without Max's consent, for them to finally be done shopping. Max had spent 208$ on food and half of it was from Dré's snacks he so desperately had to have according to him.

Opening a bag of Hot Cheetos, André waited for Max to be done with the cashier —it wouldn't take much but the swipe of that black card; however just as he stepped outside, a small impact hit his left leg leading to his chips to be scattered on the ground. André nearly lost his mind and was about to curse the guy out until he looked down and saw a little girl instead.