Adrenaline courses through me. I’m not certain if it’s due to the fact that I’m this close to Max, or because I’m on a motorcycle for the first time in my life.
We don’t travel far before Max pulls over to a park that I’m familiar with. It’s the same park I’d met Kyle in all those years ago. I untangle my hands from around his midsection and brace myself with his shoulders as I dismount. Max pulls off his helmet and runs a hand over his short hair, grinning at me. I’m pretty sure I have a matching expression as the muscles in my cheeks begin to slightly ache from smiling.
“How was your first ride?” His eyes shine as he looks to me for a response and I feel like the last couple of weeks of awkwardness between us never occurred. It’s just back to us hanging out once again with easy familiarity.
“That was kind of intense!” I admit, “It’s an adrenaline rush!”
Max smiles at me, looking proud. “I wanted to make sure you had a little dose of crazy.” He slides the helmet from my hands and places them both in a compartment on the bike as I go back to the conversation we’d had over ice cream at Maggie Lou’s.
He unties a black string holding a rolled up blanket on the back of the bike and nods his head forward. “They’re playing Pretty in Pink. A little birdie told me you’re quite the Molly Ringwald fan.” I look at him in surprise and manage a nod. It comes out much more like a head jerk, but he, smiles, offering his arm to me.
“What little birdie do you keep talking to?” I ask curiously.
Max gives me another giant grin as we set out across the large grass field dusted with couples. My eyes travel across them; some are having picnics, others are shamelessly making out, and a few younger couples look nervous as their eyes search for clues as to what they should be doing. My heart goes out to them, knowing exactly how they feel.
Max stakes claim to a stretch of grass that’s off to the side where we’re fairly secluded by spreading the blanket with a single snap of his wrists. The movie is just beginning and I’m relieved, feeing more and more nervous at the prospect of talking things over with him. I kick off my shoes and take a seat beside him, leaving a large enough gap between us so I won’t accidentally brush him with my arm.
I stare at the screen for a while, working to avoid the pull of Max’s gaze on me. Eventually, I give in and turn my head slightly to look over at him.
His eyes are bright, and his smile playful, as he gently shoves me with his forearm, causing my body to sway. “Afraid I’ll bite?”
“Amongst other things,” I reply before I can stop the slight innuendo from escaping. Max’s smile spreads a bit further, and he reaches over to gently tickle my side. I swat his hand away with a quiet laugh, but he’s relentless, somehow seeming to find the location of my most ticklish spots. The more I ignore him, the more he tickles. Finally, I grip his fingers in mine and bring them to the blanket between us. I feel his fingers move ever so slightly, gently wrapping around mine, so we’re not exactly holding hands but our fingers are loosely tangled.
I don’t dare look at our hands or over to Max. Instead I focus on the large screen in front of us. I want to laugh at myself; here I am being more skittish about holding a boy’s hand than I was when I was twelve … and I’m not even holding his hand!
We sit like this for a while, occasionally one of us moves to stretch out a leg, or shifts slightly to get more comfortable, but both of us are incredibly vigilant to not disturb our link.
Halfway through the movie a soft brush against my thumb catches my attention and I peer down to see Max’s thumb gently skimming back and forth over mine. He continues for a few moments, and I’m transfixed by the simple action. His thumb pauses, and I watch as he moves his hand so that his fingers lace securely with mine.
“I’m not dating, Felicia,” Max says quietly, “I haven’t been dating anyone since Karli’s party. I just, I don’t know, I needed to distract myself from you. I don’t want to interfere. I know you’re with Eric. I don’t understand it, but I know you are.”
“So you distracted yourself by sleeping with Felicia?” The accusation comes out before I can think of a more tactful way of asking.
Max shakes his head, carefully keeping eye contact with me. “We hung out a few times, but this incredibly distracting blonde that lives next door made me realize I was just making everything worse.” He gives me a small, hesitant smile that causes a flurry of excitement to unleash inside of me.
I want to wrap my hands around Max and finally kiss him, but I don’t. I’m not even worried about betraying Eric at this point. I’m worried about betraying myself. Kissing Max and telling him how much I like him, and how long I’ve liked him right now, would be a breach of trust to a relationship I’ve been stubborn and admittedly stupid about maintaining. I need to end it before I begin something with Max in order for our relationship to begin on the right path.
Simultaneously I’m trying to process the last few weeks. Seeing him with Felicia hurts even though I know it’s completely hypocritical because I’ve been doing the exact same thing. And then there’s Megan, and I don’t even know who Megan is. And Max seemed to waffle between his feelings even before Felicia. Was that before Megan? Who’s Megan?! But Jameson warned me that he wouldn’t act on anything until Eric and I broke up.
My head’s spinning faster than the Tilt-A-Whirl at the circus.
“What are you thinking?”
My eyes focus on his, my heart beating faster than the wings of a hummingbird, as I try to articulate my emotions. “I’m worried that you’re going to go back to the gray.”
“Back to the gray?”
“Every time I think you’re telling me that you like me, something happens and you seem to go back to the land of gray where I can’t fully decipher your words or intentions.”
“It’s always been black or white,” he says, shaking his head. He grins as my face balks at his response. Max has been anything but white and black for me.
“I have to finish some things.”
Max nods and then doesn’t ask or say anything more about it. I don’t know if he understands my silent explanation, or is just being polite and allowing me to sort through my feelings. We sit through the entire movie, and he never moves any further than keeping his fingers interlocked with mine.
That night as I enter my room, my cheeks ache from the smile that’s been spread across my face for the past few hours. I head to my closet and stop when I notice Max standing in his window, motioning with his arms for me to open mine.
“Do you want to go with me to San Diego tomorrow? I have to go do a walk-through at seven. We could go grab breakfast and then go.”
“I have something I need to do tomorrow. But I’ll see you when you get home.” I can tell by his bright smile, he knows I’m referring to Eric.
“Thanks for talking to me, Max.”
“Always, Ace. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The next morning I try to contact Eric to see if we can meet up so I can finally end things. He has to realize this is coming; all summer we’ve seen each other only a handful of times and none of them have been even remotely romantic, usually ending in a disagreement or him leaving early, like the barbecue or the party at Tim Evans’.
He agrees to meet me at five, and I spend the afternoon mentally preparing what I’m going to say.
I pull into the parking lot at 4:57 p.m., intentionally parking a few spots away from him. The words that I’ve been rehearsing all day run through my mind again as I step out of my car. I feel slightly guilty for suggesting we meet at a restaurant when I know I’m going to break up with him, but for the first time since Tim Evans’s party, I don’t feel confident in knowing what Eric’s reaction is going to be.