Life of Max ✔️

Twelve

MAX

The white door in front of me is brighter than it should be. My eyes are hurting as I stare at it, but I can't not stare at it. Behind it are my grandmother and my dad. She hasn't left his side since she flew to Paris to be with him, and now, almost two weeks later, he's here, just a few hours away from where I live, dying.

I still don't know what kind of disease he has, if it's cancer, AIDS or whatever, or if it's something else. I just know that he's a lying bastard who should have told me years ago that he was going to die.

The door opens in front of me, and I scowl at my grandmother when she looks at me. She has a soft smile on her face, and it never falters when I practically stab her with my eyes. I'm leaning my elbows on my knees, and my legs are trembling as I sit there.

I don't think I can go in there.

I wish I had someone here with me. I don't know who, though. Brad, maybe? Or Grayson? Preferably Haley or Ives, they both have this thing about them that makes me calm down when I'm agitated..

"You can come inside," my grandmother says, and opens the door wider for me.

I really want to leave. It took me this long to actually come here, and now that I'm here, I want to leave again.. But I guess I can't do that.

He is my dad.

I sigh and get up from my seat. I don't make it through the door just yet, since her arms wrap around me and pulls me into a warm hug. I smile softly to her when she pulls away again, and she rubs my cheek lovingly.

I feel bad for not seeing her more often. I should. I guess it isn't gonna be long until she's gone either, just like him.

She guides me into the room, and I see my dad sitting upright in his bed, using a pair of trembling hands to solve a Rubik's cube. He looks up as we enter, and he smiles widely, just like I'm used to, when he meets my eyes.

"Maxy!" he exclaims, and gets up from his bed.

He looks good for a dying man, and I'm suddenly really confused. Is he okay, and this is all just some hoax, or?

He hugs me, and I hug him back, but I bite my lip a little.

"Uh, hi, dad," I mumble, and start rubbing the back of my head, not really returning the hug with more than one arm. I'm not sure he deserves more, to be honest.

He looks normal, except for his trembling hands. They are shaking. And they are making me shake as he holds on to me.

He pulls back and sits back on his bed, and motions for me to sit down in a chair. His face falls a little as I sit down, and I take another deep breath.

My grandmother kisses my dad on his cheek, and then moves to kiss the top of my head, and she smiles.

"I'll let you two talk. Do you want anything from downstairs?" she asks us both.

"No thanks," I mutter.

"No, I'm good, mom," dad answers with a smile.

She sends us both another smile, before she's out the door, leaving me alone with my asshole dad and his lies.

"I understand you're upset with me, Maxy," he says eventually, and I look up to meet his eyes.

"What's wrong with you?" I ask him.

"It's a disease, it's ge-..."

"I don't mean the fucking illness, dad, I mean the fact that you knew, and you've apparently known for a while, but you didn't say shit?" I say, cutting him off.