Tuesday & Max

35

I'M COMING UP ONLY TO HOLD YOU UNDER

I'M COMING UP ONLY TO SHOW YOU WRONG

March blurs into April in a tornado of drama rehearsals and evening costume fittings. Somewhere along the way, Tuesday finds a new normal. Every night of the week that isn't spent working toward opening night for The Sound of Music is filled with as many cinema trips, meals out and (slightly more responsible) drinking at house parties that Tuesday can afford.

Her shifts at The Bean stabilise after a short but sincere apologetic conversation with Daliyah who, even after everything Tuesday said to her on the terrible night out, remains kind.

Harry makes a profile for her on some new dating app. He insists on doing her makeup and the photography himself, as well as filling out all the info, so the profile Tuesday ends up staring at on his phone is for someone she barely recognises as herself. Harry decides which boys should be liked via the app's big purple heart—as well as a few girls, much to Tuesday's surprise. She refuses to meet or talk to any of them, but it's a confidence boost to see that some of them heart her profile back, even going so far as to drop her a message.

With Jack gone and Max still missing, getting involved with someone new couldn't be any further down on the list. The idea of butterflies in her stomach over someone just makes her feel sick.

Despite everyone's preparations, opening night is still a disorganised mess. Tuesday calls Harry, panicking, to help come over and pack and transport some of the last-minute adjustments and he arrives faster than she could've thought possible.

Tuesday, Harry and Julia are desperately—yet as carefully as they can—stuffing the last of the costumes into bags when there's a knock at the door. Before Julia can leave the room, the front door opens and Tuesday hears Jon's voice from the hallway.

"Hello!" an astonished Julia says, one hand on the doorframe.

Tuesday glances backward, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. What's Jon doing here?

He bustles in, presence big as usual despite his short stature. "'Lo. I used your spare key," he says to Julia. "Tuesday told me about it. You should probably hide that better. I'm parked behind that silver BMW so we should make this quick."

"D'you have enough room?" Harry asks him briskly, leaping to his feet and picking up two of the bags.

"I'm confused," Tuesday says. "What's going on? Did you text Jon?"

Harry looks at her. "How else were we going to get all this to town? On my bike?" He heaves a bag over one shoulder. "Jon has a car."

Tuesday stares back, dismayed. "I thought you came on the train!"

"No way," Harry says, pausing briefly to direct Jon to more zipped bags of clothes. "Pack the boot tight, you're going to need to get Tuesday in the back."

Time slows for a second.

Tuesday has never been in Jon's car. She knows what it looks like because she's seen him screeching away in it sometimes after Wednesdays; consequently, it's probably the car she's least likely to ever want to get in.

"It's okay," she says, turning away and zipping up a bag. "It's fine, I can get the train."

"You can't. We need to be there in eighteen minutes." Harry crosses his arms, frowning.

"They come really frequently, I can—"

Julia dithers in the doorway. Tuesday knows she wants to offer a lift, but she can't, not tonight. She'll miss her accounting exam. "What about—"

"No," Tuesday interrupts. "You need to go to your exam."

"But—"

"What's going on here?" Harry interrupts. "Why don't you want to get into Jon's car? Is this a magical car phobia I haven't noticed before now?" He checks his watch. "We now have seventeen minutes."

Jon looks awkward. "Oh, right," he says, meeting Tuesday's eye. "It's—no, I get it. Fuck."

"What am I not getting?" Harry says, expression growing more and more irritated by the second. "I've seen you get into like twelve Ubers this month."

Tuesday closes her eyes and sighs. The breath comes out in a huge whoosh and she tries to send away her fear with it. "Okay, no, nothing. It's fine." She heaves up a bag herself. "Come on."

"Thank you," Harry says, turning immediately and darting out of the flat with his bags.

Jon hesitates, then follows.

In the doorway, Julia stops her. "Hey. You don't have to do this if you don't want to. Why don't you call an Uber, like Harry said?"

"It won't come in time."

"Isn't it okay if you're a little bit late?"

"No!" The idea of missing the opening, of missing any of it, is horrific. This is all they've worked for the past few months. It's been the heart and soul of her college experience so far. There's no way.

This is the only way.

And it'll be fine, surely. Like every other car she's forced herself into. How much more dangerous can Jon's driving be than Jack's, or the myriad of taxi drivers' that she's trusted?

"It will be fine." Tuesday looks firmly at Julia.

Julia looks back. "Right. Of course it will."

The door slams too loudly behind her as she exits the block of flats and crosses the carpark. Bits of gravel and pebble crunch uncomfortably beneath her feet. She can hear her heartbeat.

She sits behind Jon in the back of his car, pressed against the door beside assorted boxes, electrical equipment and bags of stuff for the show.

"Got enough legroom?" Jon's voice swims into her mind.

Tuesday isn't aware of answering, but he pulls his seat forward anyway.

As they begin their journey, Jon and Harry chatter. Tuesday can see the words leaving their mouths but she can't seem to hear them. Each vowel and consonant sound drifts out of their lips into the air between them and swirls, assorting itself into words, and she manages to vaguely understand what they're saying despite her deafness.

Tuesday grips her seatbelt.

As they get closer and closer to town with no incident, the grip starts to relax.

Every now and then, Jon catches her eye in the rear-view mirror to see how she's doing. The fifth time, she manages a smile. He smiles back.

The college, modern and imposing, looms into view on the horizon and Harry whoops as Jon pulls out onto a busy road. He bursts into the iconic hilltop song from the musical and just as Tuesday opens her mouth to join in, Jon slams on the breaks hard and the car swerves.

Tuesday slams hard against her passenger door. Her brain feels like it's bouncing around in her head.

Everything starts to move like it's submerged in water.

"What the fuck—" someone swears.

Car horns honk.

Tuesday blinks. Blackness.

And then she isn't there anymore.