Do you think Billy has ever hung Max by her shirt on the back of doors when she annoyed him?
Fuck yes I do. And I bet Max would run into his room and bother the shit out of him for this express purpose. It’s a ritual, a little game they play after one of them has gotten yelled at or is upset.
It’s an easy way to break tension. Max coming into his room while he’s cleaning up in the aftermath of Neil. Max not fully understanding, but able to feel the tension in the house. So she laughs and helps him pick up, or comes in and messes with his clothes. Or his books. Or his thunder cat action figures—psh they’re totally dolls, but what’s the fuck ever!
And he pretends to get annoyed. Inevitably, he laughs. Releases his stress and anger. He grabs her arms and drags her closer to him. She’s the only person who’s hugged him in years. Well, no— she’s the only person who’s ever hugged him and doesn’t want something from him. Doesn’t want him in the way adults always do.
He knows. How adults are. What they always want.
How nothing is free.
But for Max? Her prices are easy. Prices he’s willing to pay. He does hate her sometimes though. Because she never has to pay like he does. Adults never touch her. Adults never want things from her. Adults never hurt her.
But he’s glad they don’t. Glad she doesn’t suffer. Sometimes. Sometimes he hates her for it.
But not right now. He doesn’t hate her now. Doesn’t the her ever, but it’s easier to lie to himself and think he does.
As he tells her she’s a little shit and grabs her by the waist, lifting her as she scrambles and whines about being put down this isn’t, you jerk. She laughs in triumph as her shirt catches on the hook mounted to his door and she slides down with a thump, kicking her legs in delight.
She fills his room with laughter as she wiggles in the stupid shirt Susan got her that Max hates because it’s pink and has ribbons and is so ugly and girly. Whenever Susan forces her to wear it, Max ends up in his room, hoping it’ll rip one of these days.
It won’t. It’s too strong. And Billy would never live it down if he ripped the shirt. If he damaged anything that Neil’s good hard earned money was spent on.
But she laughs and tells him he’s a jerk. She blushes with excitement when he calls her shitbird because it’s their secret. She looks around wildly to make sure her mother and Neil aren’t in hearing distance. Even though they’re whispering.
Susan doesn’t want Max to swear. Neil would have an aneurism if he heard her swear because she’s a girl. Because she should be poised and dignified. Or whatever.
But he swears at her and lets her swear back. She flips him off with both hands as she hangs. Max makes a show of rolling her eyes and pretend annoyance, but the wrinkles at the edge of her eyes betray her smiles. As does the fact she can’t stop laughing for more than 30 seconds.
Eventually, she asks for him to take her down.
He shoots her a warning look and says she better behave or else he’ll toss her out his window into the driveway.
She agrees. They both know she’s lying.
But so is he.
He takes her down with a new pact made between them.
She could get down herself, if she wanted to. She’d done it before. She would wiggle out of her shirt and drop down, then grab a milk crate and get her shirt from the coat rack herself. But she doesn’t. It’s all part of this weird game of unspoken rules they have. It’s because she wants to stay.
Then she’s sitting on his bed again, waving her arms and complaining. Telling him about the girls at school, about one specific girl that Billy wants to find and yell at. She’s always on Max for being a tomboy, for her skateboarding and her bruises. For the area of town they live in. About the fact Max’s sneakers are more worn than the other kids. That max’s skateboard and some of the shirts she wears are boys stuff.
They end up sitting on his bed, their backs resting on the pillows pressed against the wall while playing a game of Duck Hunt that’s projected on the opposing wall of his room. She’s good at it, but he taught her to play. So he’s better.
She’s keeping up though, and it’s something. Just barely better than playing alone, he tells himself. She’s annoying and all, sure.
But having her here makes living with Neil easier.
