Max and I

Chapter Eleven

On Sunday I decided to go and see Max and talk to him if Beca was not there or if she was busy with her boyfriends.

I went out the front door and saw a moving truck come up the road. I wondered who it was, but now I had no time to investigate. I was off to Max's place.

When I came up to his house I didn't find him outside, so he must have been inside or in town. I knocked on the door, trembling. I was going to ask the question.

"The door is open," said a voice behind the front door. It sounded like a girl's.

I opened the door, and found Beca and her boyfriend sitting in the dining room. "Where's Max?" I asked

The boy said, "He's upstairs in his room or in the restroom. You want to see him? I'll show you his room."

"No, no," I said, greatly surprised. This was probably Beca's boyfriend and he didn't look so bad. In the photo he had an earring and long hair. He was ugly.

Right now he had some short hair reaching to less than chin length. He didn't have an earring and was actually rather handsome and he even looked as if he was a nice boy. He had a small beard beginning to grow on his chin.

I went upstairs and found Max in his room, reading on his tablet computer. When I came in, Max looked up from his reading.

"Hello," I said. "Is Beca's boyfriend here today? The horrible one?"

Max nodded and looked up at me.

"He's not that bad," I said.

Max replied, "Yes, he's quite nice. I was surprised."

"Max?" I said, quietly. "May I ask you a question?"

"Meg, when did I ever say that you weren't allowed to ask a question?" Max looked at me, stunned.

"Well, OK. Let me make this straight. This is sort of a bad question to ask; it might upset you. But it's really important."

"Meg, you can say anything. I need to know what's on your thoughts."

So I began the difficult question, "Are you still my friend? Are you mad at me? I did something really bad."

Max had a strange look in his eyes. "Margaret, as far as I'm concerned, I don't see anything you did wrong. You're really..."

I interrupted. "That's not what I mean. You don't know it. People know about you now and they call you a...a...fre--

"What?" he asked.

"A bad person," I said instead.

"Why?"

"I can't explain. I have to cry now. Please don't ask. I feel so bad for doing it, Max."

"Meg, Meg, settle down. Can I even know about your so-called 'really bad' thing?"

"No." A tear slid from my cheek and Max just looked at me too much. He wanted to make me feel better, but he didn't know what happened.

"Max?" I said, still sobbing.

"Yes?"

"Are you mad at me?"

"Mad at what?"

"That I told everyone about you and they think you're a bad person now? Tell me the truth. You do hate me."

"Meg, people do make mistakes and I'm not the type of person who's mad at others for doing stuff they didn't intend to do."

"Yes, but...but, even my mother...I don't tell her about this. It's just too embarrassing."