Tuesday & Max

27

EXCUSE ME FOR A WHILE

TURN A BLIND EYE

WITH A STARE CAUGHT RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE

The side of Max's body connects with the wall to the left of the door and he slides down it, landing awkwardly on his knees.

"Max!"

Tuesday drops into a crouch.

"Max-what's the matter-why-?"

Candice appears behind her in the hallway, her face stricken at the sight of his collapsed form. "Is that Max?!"

"He's alright, I think," Tuesday says. She can smell alcohol emanating off him. "Drunk."

"I'm sick of this," Max mumbles, leaning forward and covering his face with his hands. "Sick of it-sick of it-I'm sick of it."

"I know." Tuesday pulls at him, trying to get him to stand. Her stomach churns. Avoiding Max might've benefited her relationship with Jack, but it meant leaving Max alone. Alone, with an ill parent and nobody to confide in. How could she have been so short-sighted? "I know."

"Shall I-?" Candice stammers behind her.

"Help me get him up."

Together-and with his clumsy cooperation-they manage to get him into a standing position and through to Tuesday's bedroom. The entire time he's muttering, talking about numbers, about his mother, about his inability to cope. He's not strong enough, he says, and something inside Tuesday shatters.

"You are," she says when they've flopped him onto her bed. She brushes back some of his hair, which is long enough now to fluff in curls across his forehead, and Candice moves her bag and other items off the bed to make room.

"Do you want me to stay?" Candice asks, clutching her bag and staring at Max's prone form on the bed as if terrified he's about to throw up or start crying again.

"No, it's okay," Tuesday says. "Hang on, I'll come and see you out-"

"Don't go," Max mutters into a pillow.

"I'm not, I'm just... Candice is here. I'm just going to say goodbye to Candice, okay?"

In the hallway, they hug tightly.

"Universe sending you a message?" Candice asks, nodding toward Tuesday's room.

Tuesday shakes her head slowly, lips pursed, as if to say who knows. "Are you going to be alright?"

"I think so."

"Come over or call or message-you know, whatever, whenever."

"Yeah, okay. Is he going to be okay?"

Tuesday's mouth twists. "I think so? I don't think it's stomach-pump level of bad. Probably just upset over family stuff. Julia will be back in a bit, though, so I've always got her."

After Candice leaves, Tuesday collects water from the kitchen and returns to Max. He sits up when she comes in, squinting in a painful-looking way at the light, so she turns it off. He's silhouetted in the orange-ish streetlights from outside.