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❝ 𝗶 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗶 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂❞

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❝ 𝗶 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗶 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂❞

𝖣𝖤𝖢𝖤𝖬𝖡𝖤𝖱 24, 1984
7:24 𝖠.𝖬.

MAX HAD TO to take the bike to school today. She couldn't wait to turn sixteen, so she'd finally be able to drive.

Since her brother's death, she had to take her bike to school everyday. Mr. Hargrove refused to drive her to school. Not really because he didn't want to, mostly because he was drunk all the time.

"Maxine?" The redhead heard her step-father's voice.

"Yes?" She turned around. It was half of a second, but he felt something hit her forhead.

She put her hand against her forhead — she was bleeding.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" She yelled as she took her bike and started cycling.

The ground was wet and it was snowing.
She hated her life — her mom was never home and she had a drunk step-father.

The redhead was feeling awful. Her forhead was bleeding, she was cold and felt like she wanted to die.

"Oh shit." She heard a voice. All of the sudden she felt herself down on the ground. She was crying.

"Hey are you okay?" The voice asked, she looked up to find no other than Mike Wheeler.

She wasn't in the mood to talk, so she just nodded. "Holy shit." He said. "Your forhead."

"Why do you even care, Wheeler?" She rolled her eyes at him and tried to get up, but failed miserably. She felt like her bones were about to break.

And she can't even understand why — she got hit in the head. Maybe it was because of all the other times her step-father had hurt her, or maybe it wasn't, but what she knew very vell was that she as hurt. Really hurt.

"Because, I might seem like an absolute asshole, but you're hurt and I'm going to help." He said.

"How can you help?" She rolled her eyes, trying to get up again. Max always trid tolo

"Put your hands around my neck." The curly-haired boy said, ignoring her question.

"Wheeler, stop pretending we're in a love-drama book." She said.

"Mayfield, if you don't do what I say, you're going to get stuck here for good hours." He told her. "Your might have broken your ankle."

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭.    ❪ 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝗐𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗋 ❫Where stories live. Discover now