The rain continued for a solid three days but on Saturday it poured. It wasn't just rain either, it was a full fledged thunderstorm with lightning every fifteen minutes. I was surprised the small town hadn't been blown away by the howling wind already.
I was the only one home, as Abby had gone to pick Grandma up from Grandma's 'buisness' yesterday night and couldn't come home until the thunderstorm died down a bit. With how the storm was raging outside, I doubted that would be any time soon.
I had spent the day in yet another pair of sweatpants and a tank top, hair in a messy bun and eating ice cream.
I was deep into Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire so I didn't hear the persistent banging at my door. Personally, I blamed the howling wind and continuous thunder.
My phone started to ring, blaring out Katy Perry.
I scowled when I saw who was calling, partly because of being interrupted from Harry Potter, and partly because I was less than fond of the butterflies that appeared in my stomach at his name.
"What do you want, I'm watching Harry Potter." I snapped into the phone.
"Well could you divert your attention from Daniel Radcliffe for three seconds and open your damn door?" He said over loud thunder.
"Huh?" I said dumbly.
"Open your door, Princess." His tired voice kind of scared me. It scared me enough to hastily hit pause in the movie and scramble downstairs, unlocking the door.
When I opened it, the sight that greeted me was not a pleasant one at all. I took one look at him, soaking wet and shivering, and ... Holy mother of brownies was that blood?
Without a word, I stepped aside, allowing him to step into the house.
"I don't have any spare clothes that'll fit you." I bit my lip, knowing he would catch a cold if he didn't change out of his wet clothes.
"It's fine, just get me some towels." Max said wearily and I nodded, sitting him down on the couch before hurrying upstairs to the bathroom to get towels. On the way I grabbed the first aid kit, remembering the blood.
Max dried himself as best as possible, toweling his hair dry so that when he finally just flopped backwards on the couch his hair stuck up all over the place.
I examined him to find the source of the blood, which was smeared on his hands and a little on his shirt. My eyes traveled slowly upwards and zoned in on the gash in his forehead. How did I not notice that before?
I shook his arm a little, and told him that I was going to fix him up. Max merely nodded, not questioning my medical ability, which I had been sure he would have done in any other situation. I frowned at his lack of comment but got to work, years of being an agent making my hands deft and gentle.
Max's jaw clenched as I cleaned the cut, and I winced, knowing how much it hurt, but his eyes remained closed. Once I was done bandaging him up, he finally opened his eyes.
"Thanks Princess." He said. I decided he was fine when I spotted a smirk dancing on his lips and I crossed my arms.
"Okay Max. What the hell happened?" I asked.
I had been refraining from asking Max that question in case it was a touchy subject or something, but judging from how he referred to me by my nickname, I decided it was fine to ask. If he had been really bothered, he would have called me by my real name, like he had done at the amusement park.
"I was out driving -"
"You were driving in this weather? Are you insane?" I cut him off.
"I was pissed off and needed to blow off some steam okay?" Max snapped. I bit back a retort and gave him a look, urging him to go on.
YOU ARE READING
Beach Days
Teen Fiction"Trouble just seems to follow you around, Max." "Trust me, you don't know the half of it." Meet Shannon Miller. She juggles school and work, keeping her busier than ever, but that's how she likes it ... especially after what happened a year back. W...
