#mm006

“are you sure you’re good?” it was at least the third time lucas had asked her that question tonight. it had seemed like a good idea at the time to ask dustin to drop him and max off a few blocks from his house. the last thing they needed was for his parents -and max’s uncle jack- to find out that they’d been chauffeured home in a stolen school bus. as soon as the vehicle hung a left at the stop sign, though, lucas was having second thoughts. 

not because he wanted to roll up to his house in a bus, but because max had been attacked by one of those dogs...and that was after she’d hit herself in the face trying to punch chrissy cunningham. lucas was still trying to figure that one out, he had bigger things to worry about than the tree commune people. namely, he was worried about max and her broken nose and whatever other damage would appear once the adrenaline inevitably wore off. 

subconsciously, lucas took a step closer to her as they walked beneath the dim streetlights. he hadn’t been inside of the bus when the dog had gotten to max. he’d just heard the commotion and saw her on the ground, but as he looked at her in the moonlight, he still felt a little bit like he was drowning in icy water. what if max would have gotten really hurt while he was up on the roof playing the hero? lucas would never forgive himself. he looped an arm loosely around her waist, pace slowing to meet her slightly shorter strides. he was taller, after all. when he spoke, his voice was all fucked up like he was a two pack a day smoker. “i’m so glad you’re okay.” what if you weren’t? what if i- he shook his head to shake off the thought. no. he wasn’t going down that path again. he just gave her a little squeeze and took a deep breath. “you are, right? okay?”

how did max do this with such ease? lucas was standing beneath his own open bedroom window after parking his car a block away. he had his hands on his hips as he studied the water spout and gutter, trying to decide if it would hold his body weight or not. his parents were undoubtedly tucked away in the living room watching the newest episode of dallas and the last thing he wanted to do was try and explain away why he’d been out so late alone. so he shifted his bag on his shoulder and started his way up the side wall of the house.

at first, the water spout gave a bit, and lucas was sure he was going to end up flat on his back, but with a little bit of purchase of his feet against the side of the house and some quick movements, he managed to climb his way up to the window ledge and vault himself through the open window, rolling a bit on the carpet before settling at the foot of his bed. 

he kicked off his sneakers, splattered with paint from when he’d dropped the can, and shoved them under his bed along with the rest of the evidence in his backpack, then thought better of it. erica already went snooping around under there, so he removed the spray paint cans from the bag and stuffed them and the paint-splattered shoes into the back of his closet instead, tucked behind his letterman jacket and a collection of hellfire t-shirts. there was a streak of green in his hair and more on his palms, a few drops staining his karate kid t-shirt. he switched the shirt for a fresh one without really thinking about why his tv was on. maybe he’d left it on when he’d left earlier? once his head popped through the right hole in his shirt, he realized the television was on because max was watching it. lucas had almost forgotten she was staying at his house. almost. his heart rattled around in his ribcage for a second or two until his brain caught up. fight-or-flight response activated. it was just max, not a home invader or a doppelganger. it was fine. “jesus. say something next time, will you? or were you just enjoying the show?” 

We had whined, vented, and consoled Loren when her dip-shit coworker was promoted and then listened to her very justified complaints over the next two years as he proved that his MBA from MIT had in fact been bought and not earned. So when she finally replaced his ass as the first CEO of the company she helped build, fresh out of grad school, we celebrated. A lot.

She found out Thursday at 5:04pm and by 5:10pm the group chat stopped vibrating individual notifications and instead became one continuous buzz until I pulled over on my drive home to see who was dying to justify this nonsense.

By 7pm we were all two celebratory shots in and finishing off our first round of drinks. In any other bar we'd be a strange group--five women, spanning three generations, with seemingly nothing in common--but we weren't strangers to the usual McDonough's crowd, in fact, the bartender had jokingly counted us and informed us we were missing a friend.

Alyssa left us at 9:30. "It's a school night," she shrugged, ever the responsible one.

At 10pm, Shirley and Corinne were fading fast, so Loren and I each walked one home before reuniting at her apartment for more celebrating.

But what I assumed would be more chatting over drinks and then a midnight Lyft derailed entirely once clothes were removed and I found myself in her bed. It wasn't the first time, but was after what had said would be the last.

"This may have been a terrible idea," I laughed, honest and carefree, before pressing another kiss to her lips.

"Shh," she exhaled directly into my face.

We were caught in a game of childish pecks when her phone rang. She attempted to look for it and I scolded her silently.

"I have to answer my phone, I have a company to run," Loren responded in a serious tone but with a wicked smile. She yanked it out of her pants, still draped across the end of the bed, and showed me Cara's face lighting up her screen.

"Oh good. You're alive," Loren answered. She pressed a finger to her lips, signaling for me to be quiet, but then put down the phone and pressed on the speaker button.

I gestured what the fuck and was silently shushed again as Cara responded.

"I am! I'm sorry. The boys's baseball game went SO late and my phone died and gah! It doesn't matter! You got the job! You got YOUR job! It's about damn time! I'm so happy for you! Please tell me you're still celebrating."

"Of course I am! Erin and I are still drinking at my place. You're on speaker."

"Oh good. I was a little worried everyone had called it a night- most of your building looks dark..." Loren and I immediately made eye contact and she scooped up the phone. "I brought champagne! Someone come down and get me! I want to--" Loren took her off speaker and I hopped off the bed and began the clothing search.

"Yayyy!" Loren managed to sound genuinely excited while jamming the phone between her ear and shoulder to tug on her pants with both hands.

"I'll be right down!" she added cheerily, before hanging up and tossing the phone on the bed with a panicked "Fuck!"

"Can you grab the lights?" I asked, trying to make sure I wasn't putting my shirt on inside out and backwards.

"No, because then she'll see the light outside!" Loren hissed. "Fuck. It had to be Cara," she continued, hooking her bra, "Fuck!"

"She's going to know." I finished her thought, pulling the bedroom door open further to let in more of the hall light.

"I can't LIE to her. If she asks me right out..."

"I'll puke," I decided.

"What?"

"Just go get her. I'll take out drinks and when you come back I'll be in the bathroom." The wheels were turning quickly. "Had too much to drink. She'll mock me for forever but--" I grabbed Loren's keys and handed them to her with one last kiss. "She won't suspect anything if I'm curled around a toilet bowl."

"You're crazy," she called as she pulled open her apartment door.

"I'm a genius. You're welcome!" I yelled back.