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She hadn’t wanted to end things with Lucas, of course, she hadn’t, but he was too caring, which turned into too nosy, and she was bad at keeping secrets.
Secrets that appeared as her Mom drinking too much and losing her job, cocaine straight scars on her hip bone, and her fingers down her throat after every meal.
Secrets that appeared as nightmares and her waking up every night screaming, sweating, wanting to tear her skin off, feeling like a murderer.
The rest of the party had given up a while ago. But Lucas never did. She knows that he can’t know about what she does to herself or how many Tylenol she pops a day or how her grades are or how miserable her life is, but she’s nervous around him as if he’ll crack her open with a look.
She’s not entirely shocked when he approaches her after the pep rally, but she is surprised when he hands her a green ticket,
“It’s the championship game. You should come.”
“Why?” She scoffs, “to be surrounded by these morons even longer? No thanks,” she turns to walk away and he grabs her arm. She doesn’t flinch. She never flinches away from him, she’d never flinch away from him.
“I want you to come. And, it could be good for you to get out of the house.”
Her eyes narrow,
“What the hell do you know about me being in my house stalker?”
Lucas sighs,
“Every time I ride by “
She shoves him,
“You ride by my fucking house?!”
“Max listen, I know you’re depressed I know you’re-“
“You don’t know shit!”
“Please. Come to the game. I want you there.”
“I’m not your girlfriend anymore Lucas. I don’t just go where you want me to anymore,” she says, turning and walking away.
She’s barely turned around when the tears start running down her face and she runs out to the quad.
Max doesn’t know why she’s there. She’s not fully inside the gym so she doesn’t know if that technically counts as there. But she does see Lucas get off the bench. And she does see Lucas make the rebound shot.
She doesn’t hear herself scream out a cheer, nor does she hear herself call out his name. His head snaps up and he looks towards her, getting down from where he’s being held up by the crowd.
He follows her into the much quieter hallway,
“You came,” he says softly.
“You won.”
He shrugs,
“You know I got a little something-something,” he says brushing his shoulders off with an awkward laugh.
“Lucas, I’m not good for you anymore,” she says abruptly.
“What do you mean?”
“My life is too, crazy and a mess and I’m not who I was before the mind flayed and everyone seems content to just move on and I can’t. I fucking can’t.”
Lucas rubs her arm,
“Your life is crazier than the supernatural monsters we’ve been fighting for years? Crazier than Nancy’s love life? Crazier than Dustin and Steve’s friendship? I doubt that.”
She laughs,
“Okay, maybe not that crazy but that doesn’t mean, Lucas I’m not the same.”
“I don’t think any of us are the same,” he says looking into her eyes curiously.
She sighs and looks up at the ceiling, willing herself not to cry, trying to tell herself it’s not that big of a deal. But she tells herself that all the time. Just like she tells herself she can stop whenever she wants.
“I’m not physically the same.”
“What does that mean?”
Max slams her hand on her forehead,
“Fuck Lucas I cut myself. I cut myself okay. And not some petty little white girl cut myself, I hope I can still say that even though we’re not together, I’m talking deep, ugly, don’t wear a swimsuit in public cut yourself.”
She’s leaned against a locker and his head drops to press his forehead against hers,
“Fuck, Max,”
She can barely breathe. This is the closest that she’s been to another human in six months and he still smells the same and this is Lucas. This is Lucas. This is Lucas. It takes her a moment to realize he’s crying,
“I should have tried harder, I should have-“
She shakes her head against his,
“No. I’m the one who did it. I wouldn’t let you help okay?”
Lucas pulls back and wipes at his eyes, taking a step back, realizing he’d literally been caging her in,
“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”
She shakes her head quickly,
“It didn’t.”
Lucas looks down at her and her eyes are so blue and her hair is so red and he wants nothing more than to take her pain and destroy it like the fucking Demogorgon.
“Do you want to do something?” He asks quietly.
“With them?” She gestures to the team coming out of the gym.
He twines his fingers with hers,
“No. With me.”
“I think I could be free for that. As long as it’s not depressing the whole time. Like a 20/80 situation.”
“How about 30/70?”
“25/75?” Max offers with a small smile.
Lucas beams,
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen one of those.”
“One of what?” She asks, face turning red.
“A Shy Babe Max Mayfield Smile,” he says, walking her out of the building.
“Has a shy babe not washed her hair in four days?”
He pokes a simple,
“I dunno. I still see a Shy Babe, that happens to be named Max Mayfield.”
“Did you know you’re popular now and your flirting still sucks?”
It’s silent for a few moments and the air is cold.
“It wasn’t you,” she says, “I do love you.”
“Then why can’t we-“
“My own mom doesn’t even want to be around me. I can’t expect you to want to be.”
Lucas stops and grabs her arm to pull her to a stop standing in front of her,
“I want to be there. For everything. It doesn’t take a genius to see you’re not eating or sleeping. You told me about the, the cutting, I am here Max. Put it on me. Put it on me.”
She feels tears sting in her eyes and she looks down. This is not what she intended to happen. She did not need to get him tangled up in her web.
“Max, look at me,” he says softly.
She blinks up at him and because she’s now a crybaby, tears fall down her cheeks,
“You can put it on me. You can put it down. You can let it go. It’s not your fault.”
She bursts out into sobs and falls forward into his arms and he catches her as she buries her head in his chest,
“I got you. I got you baby. Put it down. You’re not alone. I got you. I got you.”
It takes her a few minutes to cry it out and eventually she wipes her face on the arm of her sweater which is the best she can do, and since she’s not trying to win Lucas back, she honestly couldn’t care less, when he leans in and kiss her cheek softly like he doesn’t know if he can kiss her lips,
“I love you, Maxine Mayfield. And I always fucking got you. But I have to warn you, that I sleep on the left side of the bed.”
She laughs,
“Loser. Hey, um, I don’t think I’m ready to talk to the rest of the party yet.”
He nods,
“I’ll keep you all to myself.”
“Your parents won’t mind?”
Lucas hesitates,
“Shit. I will figure something out. All I know is that I am not letting you go?”
“What about going to the bathroom?”
“Fine.”
“To go to class?”
“I could get my schedule changed.”
“Go to the store?”
“Why can’t I come?”
They go back and forth the whole way home as Max counts Lucas’s pulse she can feel as their wrists brush together while they hold hands.
The air is cool and the one day Max doesn’t tie her hair up it’s windy. It’s dark and barely any street lamps work. Lucas is warm and his hand is solid, his body a warm presence next to hers. She tries to sneak secret glances at him. She hasn’t gotten to stare at him in months and his new haircut and his sharp jawline, he’s changed so fucking much.
But clearly, she’s bad at sneaking it, and every time he catches her, he smiles back with the most genuine smile and it lights her heart on fire from the inside out and whatever the hell that she’d been living in, this is the opposite, Lucas is the opposite. She leans up and kisses him, hands grabbing his cheeks.
Lucas nearly falls back before he picks her up and twirls her around and around until he’s as dizzy and dreamlike in real life as this feels because this is his girl and he has her back and he’s kissing Max fucking Mayfield in the middle of his fucking street and he doesn’t ever want to stop.