Chapter Text
The house is quiet in that strange way it only ever is in the late afternoon when it’s just Max and Billy home.
A hollow sort of stillness that settles in the walls once the adults leave.
Neil and Susan left earlier for their own New Year’s Eve party, telling them both not to wait up just in case they decide to stay at one of Hawkins’ local Motel 6 on the outskirts of town. The front door had barely closed before the house seemed to exhale.
It’s almost peaceful.
The sun sits low enough now that the light coming through the windows looks thin and pale, stretching across the living room floor in long rectangles. Dust drifts lazily through it every time the heater kicks on.
Max sits cross-legged on the carpet with her skateboard in front of her, running her fingers along the grip tape like she’s checking for damage she already knows isn’t there.
Her knees still sting under the gauze Billy taped over them earlier. The pain isn’t terrible, her jeans took most of the brunt — but the pain is still there, just sharp enough to remind her every time she shifts her weight that she wiped out hard… again.
The scent of aftershave and hydrogen peroxide no longer fills her nose, instead the faint smell of cigarette smoke coming from Billy’s room and the strong cinnamon apple savoring from the candle her mother had left burning in the kitchen.
Billy’s in his room with the door half open, his stereo loud enough that the bass thumps through the hallway walls in slow, steady pulses. Not the music he plays when he’s working on the Camaro. This is ‘Billy getting ready for a party’ music.
Max leans back on her hands, listening. She can hear drawers sliding open. Something metallic hitting the dresser. Boots hitting the floor with a heavy thud. The squeak of the closet door.
He steps out a minute later already dressed for wherever he’s going. Dark blue jeans. Black boots. The red button-up he leaves mostly open with a white wifebeater underneath—it’s the one he only wears when he’s going somewhere he actually wants to be.
His hair is still damp from the shower he took earlier, the ends are starting to curl the way they naturally do when he doesn’t bother fighting it with the hairdryer. He’s toweling it off with one hand when he notices her watching. He pauses in the doorway. “What?”
Max shrugs, pushing the skateboard back and forth along the carpet with the heel of her hand. “Nothing.”
He eyes her for another second like he doesn’t quite believe that.
Her fingers walk along her board in a slow lazy stroll from one end to the other while Billy finishes toweling off the last ends of his hair that refuse to dry.
“Are you going to a party?” she finally asks.
Billy snorts, “You think I dress like this for church?” He heads into the kitchen, tossing the towel into the bathroom on the way.
Max follows him with her eyes when he comes into view, he opens the fridge and just… stands there for a second, then grabs a beer and the pull tab making a loud crack when he opens it.
Billy took a long drink, leaning one shoulder against the fridge door, eyeing her over the rim of the can. “You ready or what?”
“For what?” She taunts.
Billy gestures vaguely toward her with the can. “Your little nerd convention.”
Max rolls her eyes. “It’s not a convention and we’re not nerds.”
“Mm.” He takes another drink. “Sureee.” He drags out.
She stands up, grabbing her skateboard. “You’re just jealous you weren’t invited.” Sticking her tongue out.
Billy sneers, taking another swig from his drink. “Kid, I definitely am not jealous of Monopoly night with Wheeler, Zombie Boy, Lover Boy and Elvis.”
Max smirks, “Their names are Mike, Will, Lucas and El.” She corrects, leaning her board against the couch as she goes to grab her shoes from her room.
“Yeah. That’s what I said.”
She digs out her green Vans from where they are buried in her closet while Billy grabs his keys, they jingle loudly as he spins them around his finger. When she passes him in the hallway up close she can smell the cheap cologne he just sprayed as he walks by. Strong. Sharp. Mixed with fresh cigarette smoke.
She quickly takes a seat on the couch, slipping her feet into shoes before tying her laces. The scabs on her palms peeking out from the sleeves of her jacket as she does.
His jaw tightens slightly when he sees them. It’s quick — just a small clench of muscle near his cheek — but Max catches it. “You wipe out again, I'm confiscating the thing,” he mutters, his eyes flick from the bandages to the skateboard leaning against the couch and back again like he’s already calculating how it happened.
“I didn’t wipe out again.” She protests, though she does brush off some dirt off the side of her vans from the crash.
“Better not turn into an ‘again’ or else.” He grumbles.
Max pushes off the couch, grabbing her jacket from the arm, sliding her board under her arm as she heads toward the door.
Billy eyes the board as it rests on her hip. “Hold up.”
She pauses, “What?” Her free hand went up to her hair, believing that was the issue.
He reaches out and takes the board out from under her arm before she can protest.
Max frowns, following him when he moves past her. “Hey—”
Billy flips it over, spinning one of the wheels with his thumb. It whirs softly. He tilts the board closer to his face, eyes narrowing slightly like he’s listening to something inside it as he walks back to the kitchen. Grabbing the skate tool from the junk drawer without even looking. He must have decided the wheels weren’t the issue.
“Your trucks are loose.” He says factually like he’s explaining like she’s a customer at the shop.
“They’re supposed to be loose.” Giving him a puzzled look but with how hard she had been riding her skateboard it's possible they have been loosened.
“Not this loose, no wonder your wobbling when you get speed.”
Max blinks. He noticed that?
He tightens something with quick practiced turns, then he nods to himself when he is satisfied. “There, don’t mess with it anymore.”
Max watches him carefully. “You know stuff about skateboards now?”
“I know stuff about wheels.” Billy corrected, handing it back.
“Yeah except for the wheels in your head.” She laughs, grabbing the board before he can pull it back. “Thanks.”
Billy‘s glaring at her, “Don’t break your neck when you show off for your fellow nerds.” He says, moving past her.
He’s already halfway out the door when he adds—“And you better not burn Wheeler’s house down in the mean time. Not even sure you guys can be trusted with sparklers let alone fireworks.”
Max groans as she followed him, walking down the driveway,“You’re literally going to a high school party, I don’t think drunken teenagers should be trusted with fireworks either.”
They climb into the Camaro and Billy turns the key in the ignition. “Exactly but it’s not my house and it’s not anybody I’m friends with,” he says.
The engine roars awake instantly, loud enough to vibrate through the steering wheel. The heater coughs to life a second later, blowing a stream of cold air across Max’s legs before it slowly warms up.
Billy backs out of the driveway with one hand on the wheel, the other draped loosely across the top of it like he’s done it a thousand times. His wrist turns smoothly as he guides the car backward, barely looking over his shoulder.
The neighborhood passes slowly outside the windows. Christmas lights are still hanging from some of the houses even though the holiday’s over. Half of them blink lazily in the growing dark.
Max presses her forehead against the cold glass for a second. The glass fogs slightly where her breath hits it.
Billy drives one-handed, the other resting loose on the wheel, fingers drumming against the steering wheel in time with whatever song is playing from the radio speakers.
They don’t look like they’re going to the same night.
Max with her skateboard and patched-up knees.
Billy with his cigarettes, his cologne, and whatever trouble waits at the party he’s heading to.
Same car.
Different worlds.
A few months ago she would’ve sworn they’d never exist in the same room for more than five minutes without fighting. Now they sit in the same car, driving to completely different nights, and somehow it feels… easier.
Not normal.
But easier.
Billy glances over at her after a minute. “You’re quiet.”
“I’m just thinking.” Max shrugs, stifling a yawn she didn’t expect into her sleeve.
“Uh-oh that ain’t ever good.” He teases.
“Shut up!” She bites when Billy smirks at her.
Billy studies her for half a second longer than usual, she’s already yawning and it’s not even close to 7:30 yet. He looks back at the road when he offers,“If you want me to pick you up early, I can.”
Her fingers idly spins the wheels of the skateboard. “No, I’m fine. You've got the heat on blast, it’s making me sleepy.”
Billy turns onto the main road when he says, “Well try not to fall asleep at Wheeler’s before I pick you up.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She says. “1 am and not a moment later.” She repeats.
—
The Wheeler’s house glows warm through the windows, the porch light spilling across the yard, but the trees along the edge of the property are dark and still. Not illuminated by the street lights nor the Camaro’s headlights from where it rolled up to the curb.
Max reaches for the door handle but pauses.
For a second she thinks she hears something, over the Camaro’s purring engine and the kids running around in their front yards with sparklers.
Not a voice.
More like branches shifting somewhere deeper in the woods.
She squints toward the tree line.
Nothing moves.
Billy taps the steering wheel impatiently. “You going or what?”
Max blinks and looks back at him. “Thought I heard something.”
Billy glances toward the house, barely interested. His gaze sweeps the Wheeler yard once — bikes, porch light, the dark trees beyond the fence. "Probably a squirrel or a raccoon frightened by all the firecrackers.” He says dryly.
Max huffs, she glances back at the trees one more time. “Yeah, probably.” And grabs the door handle.
Billy stops her.
“Hold on.”
She looks back.
He reaches across the seat and pulls something from the back. “Put that on.”
He tosses it into her lap.
His hoodie.
The dark blue one she had stolen, it’s was washed with her clothes and returned to his room sadly once it lost its scent.
“In case Wheeler’s basement is freezing.” He supplies.
Max stares at it. “Shouldn’t you keep this? It’s supposed to get colder tonight and I somehow bet the beer keg isn’t going to be inside.”
He reaches over and tweaks her ear, “And how would you know what that is?”
“Movies?” She answers innocently, hugging the hoodie to her chest. “You’re going to want it back after?”
“I have more than one hoodie.” Billy says nonchalantly.
She pulls it on, brings the collar to her nose, it smells faintly like smoke, Billy’s body wash and laundry detergent — a little different now, but still familiar. Nonetheless still eases the tension in her shoulder she didn’t know she had.
“Have fun with your nerd convention,” he says. Billy watches her for half a second, then, almost as an afterthought: “And stay where the lights are, I'll be back at one." She smiles as she reaches for the door handle. "And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, alright.” He tells her as she steps out of the Camaro.
Max raises an eyebrow, “Again! You’re literally going to a party!”
“Yeah!,” he says, starting the engine again. “I’m not twelve.”
“Thirteen!” She exclaims, already half up the driveway.
“Whatever! Hurry up and get inside, Red!” He yells after her.
___
The Wheeler basement smells like soda and microwave popcorn. A bowl of chips is already going stale on the coffee table, and Dustin is arguing with Mike about which movie they should start after midnight.
Lucas is trying to teach El how to snap her fingers, demonstrating slowly, over and over again. Every few seconds though, he glances toward Max when El looks down at her hands. He smiles at her, like love sick puppy. Max pretends not to notice because she knows the moment Dustin and Mike have decided on a movie, Lucas will claim the spot next to her on the carpet like it’s been reserved all night.
Will notices out too. He’s sitting cross-legged across from Max, shuffling the deck of cards from the games they just finished — Slap Jack, Old Maid, and Spoons. El kept winning every round of Spoons, always the first to grab one with the unfair advantage of her powers. They’d switched to Uno after that, laughing at how Dustin ending up with more cards than he started with.
The game lasted three rounds before Dustin dramatically declared it “rigged” and demanded a movie instead.
Will taps Max’s elbow and puckers his lips like a goldfish after Lucas goes back to showing El how to position her fingers.
Max shoves him lightly in the shoulder. “What?” he whispers. “You should know he’s been talking about you being his New Year’s kiss like all day.” He glances over her shoulder to make sure Lucas is distracted by El asking him to show her again how her fingers should be after another failed attempt.
Max rolls her eyes, though her cheeks feel warm. “We already shared a kiss at the Snow Ball,” she mutters, “Don’t know why this one is so special.”
Will shrugs, sliding the cards neatly back into their box and tapping the edge against the carpet so they line up evenly. “Me either. Maybe it’s like starting the new year off with something good.”
Max glances across the room. Lucas is cheering as El finally manages a successful snap of her fingers. She laughs at the sound it makes, delighted with herself.
Max smiles despite herself. “Yeah,” she says. “I guess that makes sense.” She nods toward the couch. “Won’t it be a little awkward though? I mean, you and Dustin not having dates?”
Will shrugs again, neutral as ever. “Maybe.” Then he grins when he looks over to the couch, “But you can make it up to me by teaching me how to stand on that thing.”
Max follows his gaze, her skateboard leans against the couch like a trophy. Every time she looks at it she still feels a little disbelief that it’s actually hers or that Billy got it for her.
“Gonna have to wrap you in bubble wrap,” She joked, pulling up her sleeves to show her scabbed palms. They’re healing nicely but they still ghastly looking.
Will hisses at he looks at them. “Dang, and that was almost a week ago?”
“Yeah, still think about wanting to hop on?”
Before Will can answer, Mrs. Wheeler is shouting down the stairs. “Kids! Thirty minutes to midnight!”
Dustin shoots up like someone lit a fire under him. “Fireworks!” he announces.
They all tumble up the basement stairs at once.
Outside, the cold hits instantly when the front door opens.
Sharp winter air that bites at Max’s cheeks and nose. The Wheeler yard is already glowing with the fireworks the neighborhood kids across the street are lighting, they might have any for when it hits midnight at the pace they’re going.
Ted Wheeler stands near the grill bundled in a heavy jacket, flipping something on the barbecue pit while clouds of smoke drift into the cold air. It smells like charcoal and hotdogs and something sweet burning.
Holly stands nearby bundled like a marshmallow in her coat while Mrs. Wheeler carefully helps her hold a sparkler at arm’s length.
“Look Holly!” Mrs. Wheeler laughs. “Isn’t it pretty?”
The sparkler spits gold sparks into the dark, Holly squeals as she watches it. Mrs. Wheeler grabbing her camera to capture the moment.
Dustin immediately grabs a box of firecrackers from the porch. “Mike, lighter!” He yells.
“You are NOT lighting those near Holly!” Mrs. Wheeler calls instantly.
Dustin sighs loudly but does start walking. “Fine, fine!” He grumbles.
They move farther down the driveway. Lucas lights the first one, the fuse hisses and spits.
Everyone jumps back as it shoots into the air.
POP.
A small explosion cracks through the cold air.
Mike had covered El’s ears to protect her ears as she watches in awe as bursts of vibrant colors streams back down towards them overhead. Max covered her own ears, she laughing at the boys who are already running back towards the box.
Soon the whole street is alive with noise, they still have a third of the firecrackers left.
Other neighbors are outside too, lighting fireworks early. Small bursts of color flash above rooftops.
Someone down the street starts counting early. “Thirty seconds!!”
Lucas edges closer to Max, rubbing his hands together for warmth.
“You cold?” he asks.
“A little.” She says.
He glances around quickly, then steps closer.
Max pretends she doesn’t notice.
Will and Dustin are busy lighting another firecracker while El spins slowly in the yard holding her sparkler like a wand. Mike watches on with a smile.
Mrs. Wheeler is distracted trying to keep Holly from waving hers too close to her coat sleeve.
“Ten seconds!” Dustin voices echoes down the driveway.
Everyone joins in.
“Ten!”
Lucas takes Max’s hands in his.
“Nine!”
Lucas looks at Max.
“Eight!”
She looks back.
“Seven!”
Their breath fogs in the cold air. He looks like he wants to say something, then thinks better of it.
“Six!”
He leans a little closer.
“Five!”
Max’s heart beats faster, suddenly becomes very aware of how close they’re standing.
“Four!”
Somewhere behind them another firecracker screams into the sky.
“Three!”
Lucas looks down to her lips, then back to her eyes – silently asking.
“Two!”
She gives the tiniest nod.
“ONE!”
“Happy New Year!”
Firecrackers explode down the street.
Lucas leans in quickly and kisses her.
It’s quick and soft. A little clumsy in the way first kisses usually are and barely more than a second before they both pull back.
When they pull apart Lucas looks stunned with himself and Max feels her face heat instantly.
Lucas grins like he just won the lottery, Max rolls her eyes at laughs at him under her breath but doesn’t let go of his hands.
El laughs loudly as Mike leans back, they too sharing a quick kiss.
Will just shakes his head with a small smile when Max looks over at him.
For a second everything feels normal – the fireworks, the shouting, the cold air and the smell of smoke. The way a new year is supposed to feel … for just a moment, Max thinks she sees something moving past the treeline at the end of the block.
Not walking.
Not running.
More like the shadow of something shifting between the trunks.
Then the light fades and the street drops back into darkness and when the next firework bursts overhead, there’s nothing there.
Nearby, Dustin whoops and sets off another firecracker. “Max! Lucas!” He shouts, waving another sparkler wildly in the driveway. “Come watch this one! I’m about light it with the sparkler!”
She looks back toward the trees one more time but all she sees is just quiet woods.
‘It was probably nothing,’ she tells herself. ‘A squirrel or a raccoon scared by the fireworks.’
Yet that doesn’t stop the way the back of her neck prickles a little when she and Lucas make their way towards Dustin.
After a few more fireworks, Mrs. Wheeler starts shooing everyone toward the house.
“Inside before you all freeze!”
They pile through the front door in a rush of cold air and laughter. Instantly they can smell the smoke from the firecrackers, the charcoal from the barbecue and the cold winter air clinging to their coats.
Mrs. Wheeler lights a couple candles in the living room to neutralize it.
Dustin smells his sleeve dramatically. “Whoa. We smell like a war zone.”
Mike elbows him, “Come on, let’s put that movie on!” Hand in El’s as they retreat into the basement.
Max pulls Billy’s hoodie tighter around herself as she follows, it smells different now.
Smoke layered over the faint scent of detergent and cigarette ash, there’s two words to describe the feeling she feels when she wears it, safe and comforted.
_____
At 12:40 am, the phone upstairs rings. Mrs. Wheeler calls down the stairs, “Max? Your ride’s on the way!”
“Okay!” She answers, almost drowned out from how loud Dustin had turned the TV volume up, the boys had decided that ‘Ghostbusters’ was a movie that Max and El definitely needed to see.
She wasn’t sure he’d actually come, too wrapped up in his party almost as much as she was. Briefly wondering if Nancy, Jonathan and Steve went to the same party as well. She leaning into Lucas’ shoulder from where they’re sitting on the carpet and it’s possible that they may have been holding hands since Dustin pushed in the VHS tape.
At 12:55 the door to the basement is swung open “Max, hun!” Mrs. Wheeler calls down, “Your brother is here!”
Max perks up, “Coming!” She was starting to fall asleep on Lucas shoulder but he didn’t seem to mind.
Mike glances to the clock hanging on the wall above the TV, wrinkling his nose. “He’s early.”
“He’s always early,” Max says as she gathers her things.
“I thought we agreed upon 1:30?” Will asks from his spot on the couch.
“Well Billy said one o’clock. With my mom and his Dad not giving us a clear time on when or if they would be home tonight he didn’t want to jinx it or otherwise he wouldn’t have cared if I stayed the whole time.” Max answers.
“Hopper will be here soon too.” El adds.
They share a quick goodbye, wishing each other a Happy New Year to each other, saying they’ll have to meet up again before school starts next week and she agrees.
She hugs Lucas a little longer than the others before she heads up.
In the living room, Max passes by a fast asleep Holly on an equally fast asleep Ted in his recliner. She pauses pauses by the window, she can see through the frosted glass, warm yellow headlights, a familiar shape of a muscle car and the loud purr of the Camaro idling low.
She doesn’t know why that makes something in her chest feel steadier. Mrs.Wheeler walks her to the front door, they wish each other a ‘Happy New Year’ as Max walks out the door.
Outside, the somehow the air is colder only an hour and half after they’d been out lighting fireworks and eating hot dogs and burgers.
Billy’s leaning against the driver’s side door like it’s the only thing holding him up, cigarette glowing between his fingers when he takes a long drag. He flicks the dying cigarette away when he sees her coming down the walkway, the ember arcing briefly through the cold air before disappearing into the dark grass.
Max can see she’s not the only one getting picked up. There are other cars in the neighborhood, waiting by the curbs, other rides home.
Billy’s engine is louder than all of them.
He looks different than when he dropped her off. He looks like he’s coming from somewhere else entirely. She can smell the way he faintly reeks of smoke — not cigarette smoke, something sweeter but also like a skunk? And there’s still noise in the way he moves, like the party he came from hasn’t quite worn off him yet.
He reaches out and takes the skateboard from her, sliding it carefully into the backseat instead of the trunk. His movements are a little slower than usual.
She notices that.
He opens the passenger door. “Have fun at the nerd convention after all?” he asks.
She shrugs, trying to sound unimpressed. “It was fine, mostly played games and watched movies.” Hopping into the passenger seat.
“Awh,” Billy exclaimed as he shut the door behind her, leaning down so she can see his fake pout. “Did Mrs. Wheeler not give the babies fireworks to play with?”
She glares, “Not babies!! We did! But we mostly used the sparklers at the end, that way Holly could be out there with us.”
He smirks. “Riveting.”
“You stink.” She says, her nose crinkled when the wind blows.
“Smell of teenage spirit.” He says with a laugh before he walks around the hood and a second later the Camaro pulls away form the Wheeler's curb.
The drive is quiet at first.
Fireworks are popping more frequently now — distant booms over Hawkins.
Billy drums his fingers against the steering wheel in time with some song stuck in his head, that’s not playing on the radio currently.
She watches him out of the corner of her eye.
He looks younger like this. Less… braced. The tension he usually carries in his shoulders isn’t there right now. Like whatever armor he wears inside the house got left somewhere else tonight.
He glances in the rearview mirror, “You good?” A causal way to ask if she was falling asleep.
“Yeah.”
He nods before it turns into him nodding along to the song that's come on.
They pass the stretch of road that runs alongside the woods. Billy slows slightly when they hit the curve near the woods because the cops are out tonight like vultures he says.
The trees are black against the sky. Bare branches clawing at nothing.
Another round of fireworks explodes somewhere above the trees — a sudden burst of red light flooding the road and the woods beside it. The light flashes across Billy’s face and the windshield in the same instant, washing the road in red.
For a split second the branches glow like bones.
Max sees something shift between the trunks, it makes her sit up straight in the passenger seat. “Did you see that?”
Billy’s eyes flick toward the treeline for half a second before returning to the road. “See what?” He asks lazily.
“There — in the trees.”
Another flash lights up the tree line but there’s nothing there now like before.
“Relax, Red,” he says. “Only thing living out there is raccoons and bored teenagers.”
Her heart is suddenly racing too fast.
“It looked like—” she stops herself.
Like what? How could she describe it?
A shape.
A shadow bending wrong.
Something that doesn’t move like an animal.
“Unless Hawkins suddenly got wolves,” he says.
"No~" Her voice cracked, "Billy, I think I saw something else."
“Now I'm starting to think you're watching too many horror movies with those nerds,” Billy sighs, “It’s just fireworks messing with your eyes."
She swallows and nods. That should be the truth but it doesn't feel like it. She turns back to the woods, staring, eyes searching for a threat she sure is there. Hiding in the darkness, only revealing itself in the shadows.
Billy reaches across the console and taps her knee once, solid and grounding. Enough to pull her attention away from the trees. “Hey.”
His hand doesn’t move right away from her knee when her breathing starts to hitch, waiting for those 'things' to emerge.
'Would the Camaro be fast enough to out run them?' She thinks.
Billy turns the radio down a little when Max goes quiet.
But she doesn't notice because her thoughts are spiraling when the Camaro finally makes it to the stop sign of the road.
Her panic must be more obvious than she realizes because Billy snaps his fingers once near the center console.
"Max."
She doesn't respond right away.
Billy nudges her knee again with the back of his hand.
“Max, look at me."
There's something in his tone that makes her turn away from the woods outside the car window.
And when she looks at him, his expression is softer than usual. His blue eyes catch the flash of another firework somewhere behind them, the light turning them pale for a second.
A little unfocused around the edges. Not drunk. Just… loose.
“You’re fine,” he says.
Another boom shakes the sky. He glances back at the trees one last time, then he looks at her.
“Nothing’s gonna hurt you, alright?”
His voice is certain.
“Not while I’m here,” He adds.
Not like a promise.
Like a rule.
She doesn't know why his words make the cold sensation growing in her chest settles and she feels she can breathe again.
Max doesn't even have time to ask what he means by that before the Camaro begins to drive forward and Billy goes back drumming his hands against the steering wheel to continue his imaginary drum solo.
They drive the rest of the way home in silence well despite the radio playing its usual heavy metal tunes. Every so often his eyes flick to the rearview mirror, catching Max’s reflection before returning to the road.
As they pull into the driveway, fireworks explode somewhere behind the house — bright enough to paint the carport in red and gold.
For a second, the whole yard glows.
Billy kills the engine.
He looks at the house before he looks at her.
Max notices that too.
“C’mon,” he says, already out of the car.
He grabs her skateboard again without being asked.
When they step inside, the house is dark.
Too dark.
Billy shuts the door behind them and locks it without thinking. The click echoes louder than it should in the quiet house.
Billy reaches past her and flicks on the kitchen light, and for a second the sudden brightness makes Max squint. The place looks exactly the same as when they left. But it doesn’t feel the same, the house feels heavier somehow — like the air hasn’t moved since they stepped out the door.
Max pauses in the hallway but Bill keeps moving, his shoulders are tightened, probably since they stepped inside. Like he suddenly remembered where he is.
It's just a small shift, barely noticeable.
And Max realizes something slow and heavy in her chest.
He relaxed in the car.
He doesn’t relax in this house.
He never does...ever.