by Ruth Morse
“I get it… Of course, we should talk about it. She’ll understand. I promise… We have to find the right words…”
I couldn’t make out anything else because Dad lowered his voice even more. What was he talking about? I shook my head. I didn’t have time for snooping; Max was waiting for me outside and his closeness occupied my mind, preventing me from concentrating on anything else.
I opened the window and clambered onto the roof. Max’s wide open eyes followed my every move as I quickly grabbed the ledge and jumped onto the ground. He stretched his hand out to help me, but I grabbed him by the sleeve and led him away from my house. Only when the nearby buildings blocked the view from the windows did I allow myself to laugh.
“You should’ve seen your face when I climbed out the window,” I said, chuckling.
“I didn’t expect you to be that good at climbing,” he replied, locking me in his arms.
“I used to sneak out pretty often. The skill still remains.”
Max winked at me. “I never snuck out of my house. Even when I decided to leave, I just walked through the front door.”
“You have never broken the rules?”
“They never gave me any.”
I snorted. “I know people who’d die for your freedom.”
Max shrugged. “Give them absolute freedom, and the will to use it eventually disappears.”
We walked down the well-lit streets, holding hands. In the yellowish light, Max’s face looked pale and tired. I couldn’t help noticing the black circles under his eyes that had become even darker overnight.
“You definitely need to sleep,” I said.
“That bad, huh?” he asked, smiling.
“A few more sleepless nights and you’ll look like that guy from Fight Club.”
Max laughed and pulled me closer to him, wrapping his arms around me. “I can relate to that character though,” he whispered, slightly ruffling my hair.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I hadn’t noticed how quickly we passed through the streetlights. Soon, the edge of the forest appeared ahead of us.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
Max pulled a small flashlight out of his jacket pocket. A ray of light barely illuminated the road. I almost stumbled a couple of times, but Max held me firmly by the hand. After a while, he stopped.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
“Why?”
“Just trust me.”
I obeyed, a little nervous. It was so quiet I could hear my heart pounding. Max led me forward slowly. I followed him, resisting the urge to open my tightly clenched eyelids. A few minutes later, the pine cones under my feet gave way to soft grass. A light breeze blew through my hair.
“Almost there,” Max whispered into my ear. His warm breath sparked something within me and my whole body tingled. He let go of my hand, and I heard his footsteps move away. Something creaked. After a moment, Max came back and stopped behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“And… open.”
I opened my eyes. We were in the middle of a small field. His huge camper van stood right in front of us, shining bright like a Christmas tree. Small bulbs cast a pleasant yellow light, creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort.
“Borrowed the idea from those rockers at the bar.” Max looked at me with an anxious smile. “C’mon, say something, Lana. Do you like it?”
“I… It’s just so… breathtaking.” My words were barely a whisper. I looked at the lights, unable to tear my gaze away from them. The garland was shimmering in the dark like a hundred fireflies.
Max walked over to the van’s open door. “Welcome aboard,” he said, stretching his hand forward and helping me to climb into the cabin.
Once inside, I looked around. The origami animals caught my attention first; they hung by colorful ropes from the ceiling. As they swayed in the breeze, the shadows of paper swans and foxes danced on the walls as if playing Tag. A lamp with a brown and red floral pattern sat on the wooden table, filling the air with the yellow dim light. Surprisingly clean for a twenty-year-old guy’s home. And very, very beautiful.
“Tea or coffee?” Max asked.
“Do you have something stronger?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I bought something just in case.”
He walked into the kitchen area and took a bottle of wine out of a mini fridge. I raised my eyebrows.
“I’ve never had wine before,” I said.
He winked at me. “Me neither.”
While he uncorked the bottle, I plopped down on the sofa and blissfully stretched my arms. The warmth and quietness of this place made me want to close my eyes, curl up like a cat who drank a whole bowl of milk, and just sleep the whole night through. I knew the nightmares couldn’t reach me here. The dim light and soft cushions of the sofa were soothing. Gradually, I gave in and stretched out, letting my hair down. Max’s closeness filled my heart with pleasant excitement.
“You bought this gingerbread house from your delivery savings, you say?” I asked, as he came back to sit down next to me.
Max smiled widely, his eyes twinkling with delight. “It didn’t look the same when I bought it. I’ve had a lot of free time, so I kinda modernized it,” he said.
“I love it here,” I whispered.
“That’s all that matters,” Max replied.
We took small sips of wine and stared at each other.
“Do you like it?” Max asked, smiling.
I licked my lips. At first, I almost winced from the bitterness inside my mouth, but then it became replaced with some vague floral flavor. The scent similar to violets was blooming and changing until it finally gave way to the strong undertone of some sweet citrus fruit.
“It tastes… weird,” I murmured.
Max laughed. “That’s what I thought too. Do you want to switch to tea?”
Instead of answering, I withstood a long pause and brought my glass to my lips. I made a few big gulps, not shifting my laughing eyes from Max.
Max chuckled and followed my lead, taking a big swig of his own drink.
“Do you want to listen to some music?” Max asked when I was no longer able to discern the undertones in the wine as they all smeared in one bittersweet chaos in my mouth.
“Of course.”
He opened a wooden cupboard that I was sure he’d made with his own hands. Despite my expectations, he didn’t pull out a radio. He came back to me with a large envelope of yellowed paper instead. When I realized what he was holding in his hands, I gasped. “Vinyl!”
“Twelve-inch.” Max nodded.
His eyes lit up when he saw the child-like delight on my face. With the dexterity of a magician, he put on a pair of beige gloves and placed the old turntable on his lap. Then he pulled the record out of its sleeve and, nearly holding his breath, placed it down. A small click and the record started spinning. Max rubbed the black surface against the rotation with a special brush and finally nodded.
“I can only hope that you like George Harrison,” he said.
“How can you not love the lead guitarist of the Beatles?” I replied with a pleased smile.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? I never know what I’ll find out next. Maybe you’re a secret fan of the Scorpions, or maybe you prefer to ride with the South Sound Riders while I think you’re at home in bed?”
“Well, no, I’m not that badass yet.”
We laughed. Max lowered the tonearm onto the record, and the static sound of the needle hitting vinyl filled the room. I closed my eyes.
Soon the music started. I recognized the song at the first few notes: George Harrison, My Sweet Lord.
“This is so wonderful,” I whispered.
I put my glass on the table, took Max by the hand, and led him to the center of the room.
“Oh, no,” he said, guessing my thoughts. “This is a really bad idea. I can’t dance.”
“Me neither, so if you didn’t say that, I wo
uldn’t have even noticed.”
“Let’s rewind a little, then,” he said with a sheepish grin.
Max put his left hand on my waist as his right hand found mine, clutching it to his chest near his heart. I rose one eyebrow.
“Am I doing it wrong?” Max asked.
I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his worried face. “Where did you learn to hold hands like this?”
“Well, I saw it in movies. Too old school for you?”
“You only watch black-and-white movies?” I chuckled. “Since George Harrison is playing on vinyl, I think it kinda makes sense to dance like this. Imagine we’re hippies from the seventies who stole someone’s RV to travel the world. No past. No cares. Just you, me, and limitless freedom.”
Max stopped and looked me in the eyes. Something in his gaze made me stop too. The touch of his hand on my waist electrified my skin. I blushed. My heart began to pound, faster with every second of this pause, engulfed by tenderness and shyness of the feelings that were too young to fit into words but too important to keep them in silence any longer.
“I’d love to have that with you,” Max said, holding me closer and kissing me on the lips. A playful smile lit up his face. “Just without the stealing part.” He snorted. “It’s romantic and all, but not really my style.”
I shrugged my suddenly stiff shoulders. “It’d be too boring if I started to explain how you worked hard to buy a van. Just adding some excitement to the story, you know.”
I don’t know how long we stood there, barely taking any steps and swaying to the beat of the music. I realized something was wrong only when the room plunged into silence. The record finished playing. I pulled away and looked at Max.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked.
Max didn’t answer. A strange hesitation flashed through his eyes before he closed them. When he looked at me again, his gaze was full of confidence and some inner determination. His voice was clear and strong when he said, “I love you, Lana.”
I froze.
“Wait… What?” I whispered.
“I want to say these things to you, and I want you to know that they’re true. I love you,” he said, not shifting his glance from me.
“Max, I…” I tried desperately to cope with my erratic breathing.
“You don’t have to say anything.” He gave me a soft, reassuring smile. “It’s all right—”
“No, wait.” I pulled him closer to me. My fingers touched his chest, his racing heartbeat thrumming on my fingertips. “Max, I just… I love you too.”
Saying the words I never really knew how to say was as difficult as leaving prison in which you spent too many years to remember what it’s like outside. No matter how bad your life had been in the cell, you were still afraid of changes. The different, unknown freedom—that was what disturbed me, overwhelmed me with its power to change everything. I raised my head and looked at Max; deep inside I knew that he was my freedom.
Max’s eyes opened wide. He grabbed me by my waist and lifted me off the ground, circling the spot with me screaming and laughing in his arms. My curls were constantly falling on his face, I had to shake my head to move them away so he wouldn’t drop me on the table. I covered his smiling face with kisses.
Max walked us over to the wardrobe. My back leaned against it.
“You drive me crazy,” he whispered, breathing heavily.
I dragged him to the sofa. He lay on top of me, clinging to my lips. I closed my eyes. A strange feeling captured the lower part of my belly as it did at the lake when I felt him through the thin fabric of our jeans.
“I’ve never done it before,” I whispered, my voice breaking and croaky with emotion.
Surprise flashed in his eyes but was then quickly replaced with caring.
“If you’re not sure, just tell me. Should I stop?”
My belly ached again but my legs cramped from fear. “I don’t know,” I murmured through my rapid breathing.
Max kissed my forehead. He continued kissing me, but his passion had already given way to tenderness. I tried to pull him closer with my legs, but he kept a reasonable distance. A heavy sigh escaped my chest.
Max smiled. “We’ll come back to it later,” he whispered.
He stood up and took his jacket from the sofa. “Let’s go outside,” he said.
I looked up at him from the soft cushions. “Are you serious?”
Max laughed. “I want to meet the dawn with you. At our place,” he said, leaning over me and caressing my neck with kisses.
The dawn mustered up its strength and lit up the sky as sudden as it always had. The tops of the trees on the opposite side of the lake were ablaze with light. The rays broke through the dense foliage, dissolving in the morning mist. Max pulled me closer to his side. My eyes closed, spreading the pleasant fatigue through my body. I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered, “I never want this to end.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“It was so terrible,” I said, fiddling with a blade of grass between my fingers. “I still don’t understand what Mel saw in this girl.”
“What did the girl do next?” Max asked, sliding his hand from my cheek to caress my curls that were scattered on his shoulder. In the sunlight, they shimmered with light cinnamon shades.
“She saw Mel’s red eyes and it finally clicked in her head. Mel had to admit she took the kitten out of courtesy and gave it to me instead. She’s allergic to cat dander.”
“And the girl?”
“Didn’t appreciate it. They haven’t talked since.”
“That’s a shame.”
“It only means that the girl wasn’t the right fit for her. Seriously, wouldn’t you be pleased if I took your kitten to make you happy, even if it was a challenge for me? Sure, it wasn’t smart to pretend to be a cat lady with an allergy like hers, but still, you get my point. We were all kids, but that girl was selfish. Mel just wanted to please her.”
“Did you tell her it wasn’t her fault?”
“She wouldn’t listen. It was her first love, you know. That girl never got to know how Mel felt.”
Max sighed. We lay on the grass, covered by the van’s shade. The wind was gentle as it rustled the maple leaves that it brought from the forest. I didn’t want to go back home. No one called me the whole day, so I hoped that my night-time absence would remain unnoticed. Thinking about Mel, I recalled our last conversation. I rose on my elbows.
“How could I forget, Mel invited us to a concert! What day is it today?”
“Sunday.”
“Damn!”
I quickly grabbed my phone.
“Yep?” Mel answered after the first ring.
“Mel, is tonight still on?”
“Hell yeah, it is! I’ve been desperate waiting for you to call me! Are you guys in?”
I glanced at Max. He leisurely nodded, looking at me with his left eye closed. The sun’s rays fell on his face, dividing it into two parts. I bent over and gave him some shade. He kissed my bare shoulder.
“Yes, Mel, we’re in,” I said, feeling a slight chill where Max’s lips touched my skin.
“Let’s meet at my place at seven then.”
“It’s a deal. See you at seven.”
Max put my phone on the grass and wrapped his arm around my waist.
“We still have plenty of time,” he whispered, kissing my neck. His breath tickled me so much that I couldn’t help wiggling from his grasp.
“I need some time to get ready. You know, makeup and all that stuff—” Max silenced me with his long, passionate kiss. I slightly pulled away. “What? You don’t want to see me beautiful?” I asked, smiling.
“It took me one second to see how beautiful you were back when we first met,” he said peacefully.
“You looked so sad I didn’t have a chance to notice—”
I paused, seeing how Max’s face changed. The smile vanished from his lips. He stood up from the grass, his face tense and his gaze clouded over.
&
nbsp; “I almost forgot, I have some things to do today,” he said sharply.
“Should I be worried?” I asked, anxious at his quick change in mood.
Max looked at me, his gaze quickly softening. I stood up next to him and he embraced me, holding me tight for a whole minute as if something bad had happened and he wanted to comfort me. “No, Lana. I’m sorry,” he whispered and kissed my forehead gently.
***
The road was filled with traffic. Loud music played from the cars’ open windows. All the sounds merged in one crazy melody written by someone stoned and drunk. It was impossible to discern what was rap and what was hard rock. On top of that chaos was lots of giggling and laughter. Some people were stuck in the lane while others got out to walk, passing stalled cars with extremely pleased looks on their faces. Girls in crop tops and plaid skirts swung their hips to the beat while guys drank beer, warming up before the concert.
The air was filled with excitement. No sober people remained. Everybody was intoxicated by the taste of freedom. Many of those who passed by stopped to greet Mel. Almost everyone said the same thing: “It’s gonna be one hell of a night!”
I was grateful they had Mel’s attention. At least she wouldn’t have time to ask me why I came alone. Max didn’t show up, texting me he’d join us later. I tried to get over the uneasy feeling that hadn’t left me since that message came through, but it all was in vain.
The car ahead of us moved forward slowly.
“About time,” Mel grumbled, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. “They’ll be starting in a minute!”
She shouldn’t be complaining; we got there just in time. As soon as we squeezed into the spot under the stage, the floodlights lit up and the crowd screamed, greeting the musicians with applause and whistles.
There were four of them: a drummer with short green hair, a lanky bass player, a guy in a wife-beater on the synthesizer, and a singer. The singer looked much younger, but by the glances his bandmates gave him, he was definitely the leader.
“That’s Gabrielle,” Mel said, pointing to a girl with red hair and a bottle of beer in her hand. She was on the stage, helping the guitarist set up his microphone. A soft, dreamy smile curved Mel’s lips. I raised an eyebrow. You wouldn’t usually see that kind of smile on her face.
