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Max let them see what they wanted to see: a badass, redhead, skater chick with a sharp wit and a sense of style.
Madmax.
She didn't let them see the cuts and bruises around her arms, from where Neil had shoved her. She didn't let them see how everytime El tried to find Billy, she would wince. Because Billy, as awful as he was, didn't deserve this. Neil? Maybe. But Billy?
Billy at least tried to help her.
She shuddered. She had ditched her skateboad three streets over, hoping that her stepdad wouldn't be able to find her- to blame her- for Billy not being home.
There's blood coming from her lip (she's pretty sure Neil loosened a tooth) and a noise still ringing in her ears- her mom, shouting at Neil to stop, stop, STOP IT! with a pained expression on her face.
And then Max had ran.
Without stopping, she just let her feet take her as far away from her personal Hawkins hell hole, burning all the anger away.
She ended up at the Byer's.
It was something Max would never understand, but Joyce would know what to do. Joyce could- maybe Joyce could help her.
Reaching a hand up to her lip, she frantically smeared the blood away. It had already starting dripping down onto her new shirt and the tips of her hair... making a deeper, crimson, furious red.
Max knocked.
One knock, two knocks, three-
The door swung open. "Max?"
Shit. "Wheeler? What are you- where's Mrs. Byers?"
Mike gave her an odd look, his dark hair falling into his eyes. "She and Will are getting the new house ready, remember?"
Max scolded herself. "Right. I forgot. Why are you here?"
"Feeding their dog," Mike responded, almost too quickly. "Why are you here?" He narrowed his eyes.
"Ah, so you're still not accepting me into the Party, I see," sighed Max. "Whatever, Wheeler. I'll just-"
Mike opened the door further. "Answer me. Why are you here?" Stepping onto the porch, he caught Max by the shoulder. "Come on, Madmax," he taunted, "Why are you-"
Max spun around, and Mike's voice caught in his throat. "What the hell?" His voice was quiet. Nervous. "What happened to your face?"
"Always quite the flatterer, Mike."
Mike didn't bat an eye. "Max. You know what I meant."
She did.
She could only guess the various shades of purple probably eating away at her bottom lip.
"There was just an accident."
Mike winced. "An- an accident? No. This was- someone did this to you?"
Max could feel her lip start to quiver. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Really, I-" She choked on her own words, like a person getting lost in their own home. "Look, you don't even like me, Wheeler."
"That's not true," said Mike. He reached a slender hand out towards her face, gently wiping away more blood. "Shit, Max... I was jealous, and a jerk, and I'm sorry. You- you didn't... you don't deserve that." Max grimaces and pulls away from him.
"Did that hurt?" Mike's eyes are wide. "Sorry, sorry."
"You're fine," muttered Max, still reeling from Mike's apology.
"Who hurt you?" repeated Mike. He was geniunely concerned.
Max sighed. "You can't tell anyone."
Mike sucked in a breath. "If they're hurting you, I'm not just going to stand by and let it happen. You're in the Party."
Max almost coughed up a lung. "I'm in the Party now?" She narrowed her eyes. "Is this acceptance out of pity? Because I don't want-"
"No, Mayfield. Jeez. But Lucas and Dustin have been wanting it for a while now."
Max was silent for a moment. For ten, awkward seconds, she picked the blood out of her hair tips and then "It was my stepdad" came out of her mouth.
Mike stilled. "He- hit you?"
Max looked away, unable to meet his eyes, dark and full of questions. "Yeah. You think this is bad? You should see Billy on a bad day."
She was unraveling, and fast. She should run. Before she breaks and everyone knows the truth: Madmax is just a lie.
Mike gently led her inside the Byers' house. "Please, Max. We have to tell someone."
"We don't."
"Yes, Max." Mike takes an ice pack out of the fridge and hands it to her. "I don't want to force you, but you're being hurt. You shouldn't be there."
She knew he was right. But she was scared. So freaking scared. Like her life was one centimeter from falling off a highwire. "But Mike, what if he finds me before we can? What if he hurts you or Lucas or Dustin or Billy-"
Mike grabbed both of her shoulders. "I know you're scared. But we have El on our side, remember? And don't worry about me. We just have to get you and Billy out of there."
Max sniffed. "I-" she buried her face in her hands, and Mike was holding her, awkwardly, on Joyce's couch. Not the same, tender, lovestruck way he'd held Eleven (because EW, Max and Mike didn't like each other that way) but he was letting her cry into his sleeves, letting her tell him how terrified she's been. "Mike?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you." Her voice is muffled under the ice pack.
Mike smiles. "Yeah, well. Anything for our zoomer."
Maybe, this kid isn't so bad after all, thought Max.
Maybe, he's just the kind of friend I need.