I met my Max through a friend. Well, maybe not a friend, more of an ex. Max was best friends with this boy I was talking to when I was about 13. Smart phones and dumb people were rising like wildfire and as young as I was, I made a Meet me. (Or was it called MyYearBook back then?). Anyways, I met Max through his best friend at the time; Let's call him Matt. Max and Matt.
Sounds pretty cool.
How I really met Max though, was just plain ironic. When I was younger, a childhood friends dad used to try and molest me; when I told Matt about this he freaked and didn't want to talk anymore. I don't blame him, we were 13/14. Max stepped up to the plate, hearing so much about me through his friend, he tried to become mine. The ironic part is that Max tried to make me feel better about abuse, when he was familiar with abusing. Have you ever seen someone struggling with a diet eat a cookie, and so to make them feel better you give them another cookie in a different flavor? That folks, was Max.
My different flavor of cookie.
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Move on Max
RomanceVery first story on Wattpad. Based on events that happened in my life, but I have changed all the names except my own because it's my story. How I became stronger then the boy who killed me.
