Chapter Text
It started as a game. Max formulated it as she sat in her brother’s garage on the first day of summer vacation. She was holding her phone but she didn’t know what to do with it. She felt like she should text someone, reach out to someone, clear the air, but it seemed that she was the only person interested in that. So instead, she locked her phone and decided that she would wait and see, if she went completely tech-silent, how long would it be before someone reached out, and who would it be?
After a week it felt less like a game and more like a sentence. She was glad she hadn’t reached out now – if no one had texted her in a week, they couldn’t be very interested in clearing the air. It was probably for the best. It left Max with a lot of time to think. After all, that’s what she did best, right? She was an expert thinker. All she ever did was think.
Is Marcus getting better? Did they pick the best rehab? Are they looking after him? Giving him art supplies? Has he made friends there? Does he still hate her? Will he ever forgive her?
Marcus still wasn’t speaking to her, so chances were he still hated her. Max knew she had done the right thing, she did, but that didn’t stop her overthinking it. At least twice an hour she went back through it all in her head. Maybe she overreacted. Was that possible? Sure, Marcus was drinking a lot, but was there any chance he was just being a normal teenager and she was being dramatic? No, she shook her head remembering the vodka in his locker, the Gatorade at Mousse, the way he knocked back the shots in front of her at Brody’s. None of that was normal teenage drinking. There was something more going on. She had done the right thing. He was angry because that’s what addiction did to you, not because Max had done the wrong thing.
“This is why you lost all your friends.”
She knew he was just lashing out, but she couldn’t forget his choice of words. She’d tried, she’d shaken them off as nothing that day, and the day after, but after a while there was only so much ignoring she could do. And it came down to his choice of words: “this is why you lost all your friends”. Not, “this is why you will lose your friends”, not, “this is why you’re a bad friend”, not, “this is why your friends don’t tell you things”. No, he had told her that she had lost all her friends. Almost as if he knew something she didn’t. Because at that point, she knew that things were weird with MANG, she knew she felt left out, but she really thought it was just a blip that they would figure out. But Marcus, it seemed, had better intel than her. After all, they’d all been hanging out with him more than her lately anyway.
When her thoughts spiralled about whether or not she had done the right thing for Marcus, she always ended up at the conclusion that she had, as difficult as it had been for both of them. But when her thoughts spiralled about what Marcus had said to her, she always ended up at the conclusion that her friends had decided to leave her behind, and that Marcus knew that. She couldn’t think of another reason he would have lashed out with those words in particular.
And yes, she had tried to ignore it, brush it off, but after being told in no uncertain terms by both Abby and Ginny that they weren’t all that interested in being friends with her anymore, she eventually had to accept the truth. Her friends were over her. They didn’t need her anymore. Sure, she had brought the group together, but now they were better off without her, it seemed.
Max knew that at another time, she would have been angry, furious even, but somehow she couldn’t muster the energy for the anger. Besides, last time she’d reacted with anger it had been categorically the wrong response. She had been trying so hard in the last few months to improve. She knew she could be too dramatic, she knew she could be too self-centred, and she knew she could be overbearing, especially within the confines of MANG. So, she had been trying her best to tamp down those instincts within her, to meet people where they were, but it hadn’t been enough, it seemed. If she got angry now, she would be going backwards into the kind of behaviour that had pushed people away in the first place. Instead, Max felt she had no choice but to continue on the path she was on, keep tamping down her negative traits until finally she was more acceptable, better able to be a good friend.
Max knew that she meant well as a friend. She offered her heart and soul up free of charge. She would literally give her friends every part of herself. But she was starting to think maybe that wasn’t what it meant to be a good friend. Maybe that was too much to give people. Maybe she was giving them something too heavy to hold, when they had their own lives and their own hearts and souls to hold as well. She would help them hold their hearts and souls if they wanted, she would help them hold anything, but maybe they didn’t want help. Maybe they wanted to hold their own stuff, and expected Max to do the same. That wasn’t how Max was used to thinking about friendship, but however she was used to thinking about friendship obviously wasn’t working, so it was time to reassess.
So, Max wouldn’t be the first person to reach out to MANG. She had given them enough of herself – too much – so she would wait until they were ready to hold some of her again. And if they were never ready… well, she could only blame herself for that, couldn’t she?
It was ten days before anyone posted in the MANG group chat. When Max saw the notification come in, her stomach churned, although she wasn’t sure exactly why. In a cold sweat, she opened the message. It was Norah, sending a picture from her, as ever, fabulous summer holidays. Bev always booked something ridiculous and sublime. This summer they were on a Greek island, very Mamma-Mia, very Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants.
“Should I be mailing you guys my jeans?” was the comment that followed the picture of whitewashed buildings overlooking the azure blue ocean.
“Ew, like I would ever trade my harbours for those abominations you wear,” responded Abby.
“Only if they come with all your deepest darkest secrets,” was Ginny’s response.
After thinking a moment, Max typed out, “Srsly tho, looks amazing, hope ur having the best time!”
She knew that to ignore the message entirely would be too conspicuous and would reek of bitterness, which was not what she was going for. But to join in the banter like nothing had changed was too false for her, so she went for a simple, innocuous message that she hoped could easily get overlooked. Norah hearted the message and that was the end of the conversation. After that, a photo would come in from someone once every week or two, with similar responses. Absolutely nothing of substance was posted, no gossip or advice requests, nothing that would prompt actual engagement. Max knew that this was their way of throwing her a bone. They weren’t cutting her out cold turkey, she wasn’t persona non grata, she just wasn’t in the inner circle anymore. She remembered how Abby had first described Samantha to Ginny – the definition of second tier. It seemed they had now demoted her to second tier too.
Between Marcus being away, the absence of MANG and her new-found singledom, Max had very little to do that summer. She spent most of her time between the garage and her bedroom. She would sit in the garage, not doing anything in particular, just looking around and thinking about Marcus in here. On better days she would think of Marcus drawing and painting, but on worse days she would think of him drinking… drunk… she would think about what it must have been like inside his head. Was it anything like the inside of her mind these days? Louder? Quieter? Better? Worse?
Once a week Max’s parents drove to the rehab facility to visit with Marcus. She went with them each time, but each time he refused to see her. Max would end up sitting in the backseat of the car with the window down waiting for her parents to get back to find out how he was. They would come back with worry in their eyes and sympathy for her. “Next time,” they would say. “I’m sure next time he’ll see you.”
And so, the weeks of summer trudged by. Occasional photos from ANG and weekly denials from Marcus. Around halfway through the summer, Ellen came in to Max’s room as she lay listlessly in bed, holding her phone but not really looking at it.
“Hi honey,” she said slowly, hesitantly. Max just grunted in response. “You’ve been spending a lot of time in bed lately,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “Is everything OK? I know we focus on Marcus a lot, but you know we care just as much about you, right?”
Max fought the tears that pricked the back of her eyes and sat up, pasting a smile onto her face. “Of course Mom,” she said with a shrug. “I’m just bored. MANG are all away and you know, forever alone, party of one here, so there’s not much to do. I’ll get busy once school starts again.”
Ellen nodded. “Sure honey, sure. But in the meantime, it might be good to get out more. I was thinking, Joe must be busier than ever with everyone off over summer and Ginny away. Maybe it would be worth picking up some work there? It would be a good way to keep busy and earn some extra cash, what do you think?”
Max’s insides recoiled at the thought of working where Ginny worked.
“Hey Max, we’ve grown apart.”
“OK cool, I’m just going to stalk you to your workplace so I can feel close to you anyway.”
Um, no thanks. Nonetheless, it seemed that in Marcus’s absence she had let her usual cheery visage slip, and she didn’t want her parents worrying about her. Well, she did, but she also didn’t. Marcus still clearly needed their attention, so she would maintain the mask for now, maybe if he came back better than ever she could let the mask slip, but for now she needed to hold it in place.
“Yeah maybe Mom,” she replied. “I’ll think about it.”
“OK, well I sort of already mentioned it to Joe and he jumped at it, so don’t think about it too long. You’re first shift is on Monday.”
Max groaned internally, but just smiled tightly at her Mom.
“OK great, thanks Mom,” she said, and once Ellen had left the room, she groaned softly to herself and flopped back onto the bed.