Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Being out of school is weird. Usually, Max would have homework to groan her way through, or friends to go to the arcade with, or a mother to keep alive. But now, she has no assignments due in the morning, all her friends are too busy for her, and her mother is actually trying. There’s nothing for her to do.

Sure, she’s glad to be out of hell—ahem, sorry, school— but she’s restless and bored. And she knows she needs to be thankful she made it this far. Spring break three years ago, she was sure she wouldn’t make it long enough to graduate. She thought she would die before school started again.

But she made it. She’s alive, she’s recovered fully, despite the doctor’s fears that she wouldn’t, and she made it through high school. 

In fact, her eighteenth birthday is in two weeks. Another milestone she’s immensely grateful to have made it to. She just hopes everyone will be available to celebrate it. 

She at least is certain Steve will be there. He always claims he’ll leave Hawkins—once Robin graduates, then once he finds a stable job, then once the kids graduate, but now they’ve graduated and it doesn’t seem like he’ll be leaving anytime soon. Max is secretly fine with that.

Maybe if she got a job, she’d feel less lost. Having somewhere to go every day, something to do every day would bring back that routine she found with school.

But she’s never worked a day in her life. No matter how hard things got, her mom never let her get a job. But now that Max is on the verge of independence, she’ll need money of her own. 

She walks to the phone and dials Steve. Her mom has the car right now, so she needs someone to drive, and she trusts Steve more than any of her friends. 

“Hello?” Steve’s voice says on the other end of the line. 

“Hi, it’s Max. I need a job, can you drive me? And also tell me how to get a job?”

Steve sighs. “Do you really need me ?” 

He’s trying to sound annoyed, Max can tell, but she knows that, especially after spring break ’86, she knows he’d do anything for her. 

“Yeah, I do. No one else is around and you’re the only one who knows how to get hired.”

“What about Rob?”

“Isn’t she busy with her new best friend, Vickie?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Steve says, fumbling over his words. Max isn’t stupid—she’s seen how Robin and Vickie are around each other. She’s seen the looks they give each other—they’re the same looks Mike and Will gave each other for a year and a half before they finally told the party they were dating. But she also knows that Steve is sworn to secrecy about all things related to the matter, so she doesn’t want to let on that she suspects more than she’s told. 

“Exactly. So you can drive me?”

“Sure. Fine. I’ll be there in twenty.”

+++

Steve is not there in twenty. In fact, it takes him almost an hour to pull up to Max’s small house. She’s been sitting on the couch since she called Steve, waiting for him to arrive. Her foot has fallen asleep, and she makes sure to complain about this as soon as she sits down in the front seat. 

“Sorry, Robin needed me to drop something off. It’s not like you have an actual interview to make it to, is it?”

“No.”

“Then it’ll be fine.”

Max rolls her eyes. “Just drive.”

“Where to?” Steve starts to drive out of the trailer park. 

Max shrugs. “I don’t know, just into town?”

This year, Hawkins had finally started to function like a normal town, like a town that hadn’t been through several disasters, including one that destroyed everything. Because of that, lots of job opportunities were slowly popping up as stores reopened and were newly established. 

Steve drove into town, blasting the most random music Max had ever heard. From The Cure to Madonna, Max undergoes the strangest display of songs in the twenty minutes it takes to reach the town. 

When they arrive, Steve drops Max off at the movie theater. “Call me when you need a ride home, I guess. Good luck.”

He drives off, and now Max is alone again. She’s used to it by now, though. 

She sighs and starts walking towards a bookstore that she hasn’t seen before. She’s not particularly a fan of books—she always loses her focus too quickly—but a job is a job, and a bookstore job shouldn’t be too hard. 

The door dings as she walks in. The lady at the counter, a short woman with long hair, grins at her. “Hi!” she chirps. “How can I help you today?”

Max almost winces at the lady’s enthusiasm. But she doesn’t. She’s trying to seem polite. Or, at least, polite enough to be hired. “Uh, yeah. I was wondering if you were hiring.”

Her grin gets even wider somehow. “Yes, we are! I’m so glad you came, we’re actually getting a bit desperate.” Through her cheery facade, Max can tell that she’s stressed. Worried, even. 

“How come?”

The lady sighs. “No one wants to work here after all that happened, even though everything is fine now. And the fact that we’re a small bookstore doesn’t help. Not a lot of people read these days.”

“Well, to be honest, I don’t either,” Max admits. “But I really need a job, and… I want to help out.” She’s not really sure if that last part is true—how much does she care about this tiny bookstore?—but it’s definitely the right thing to say. 

The lady’s expression turns warm and grateful. “I’m so happy to hear that. And you don’t have to like to read to work here! It’s just a bonus if you work somewhere that makes you happy.” She winks, and Max can’t help but smile. She likes this woman. 

“So, can I get an interview?” she asks.

The lady shakes her head. “Not necessary. You’re hired! If you’d like to be, of course.”

Max blinks. That was easier than she thought it’d be. “Oh, uh, yeah. I would like to be.”

“Great. I’m Dory, short for Dorothy.” Dory extends a hand. 

Max smiles and takes her hand. “I’m Max. Short for Maxine.” She doesn’t hate saying that name as much anymore. She’s Max, that’s her name, but it’s also a nickname. Maxine is also her name. 

That name was her only connection to her mom when she was distant for the past few years. That was the name her mom always called her, always had since she was a child. And after all they’d been through, the bond was more important than ever.

“Welcome to the team, Max. I’m glad you found us.”

Max is glad she found them, too.

+++

Max’s first shift at the bookstore is in two hours, and the thing she’s most worried about is What should I wear??

Usually, she doesn’t care much about clothes. But this is her first day at a new job. She wants to look like she tried. But all her clothes seem too boring or too… weird. Half of her clothes are black or other dark colors, and the other half is bright, funky patterned tops she doesn’t like.

She ends up wearing cuffed jeans, a dark green tank top, and a beige flannel over it. It may be summer, but she can’t leave the house without layers. Plus, she realized at her “interview”, the bookstore tends to be cold.

She laces up her black Dr. Marten boots and ties her hair back into a loose bun. She’s getting tired of her hair—it’s too long, too thick, too annoying. She needs to get it cut, but she knows that will only end in a shorter haircut that she doesn’t like and can’t even tie back as well.

Someone honks from outside. Steve is here to drive her to the store. 

She runs outside and gets in the car. “Hey,” she greets him.

“’Sup,” Steve responds. “You ready?”

Max shrugs. “It’s just a bookstore. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright. Good luck,” he says driving off.

Max takes a deep breath, rolls her shoulders, and walks into her first-ever job.

There are, surprisingly, a few customers in the store when she walks in. Several of them seem to be around her age, but she doesn’t recognize them.

Dory spots her and lights up. “Max!” she squeals. “Welcome!”

Max tries her hand at an enthusiastic smile, but she knows it comes out half-heartedly. In her defense, it’s 11 a.m., she woke up an hour and a half ago, and she didn’t have any coffee. 

“Alright. You’ll be stocking today. We have a lot of full boxes in the back that we haven’t unloaded yet, and guess what! They’re all yours.”

Max suppresses a grimace. “Okay.”

Dory shows her to the storage room, where there are, in fact, half a dozen large boxes, some overflowing with paperback novels. With a jolt, she recognizes a box full of books like the ones she’d been forced to read in school. The memories are unpleasant.

“There are sheets here of how they’re organized throughout the store. There are also plenty of signs and labels on the actual shelves. You’ll figure it out easily, don’t worry.”

Max nods. She knows this will be easier than it seems, but the amount of books she is expected to unload is daunting. 

I didn’t get a job because I thought I’d be paid to sit around all day and do nothing , she reminds herself. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To have something to keep herself busy with? This would certainly keep her occupied.

She gets to work, breaking open a large box labeled ROMANCE . It’s stacked to the brim with books bearing cheesy covers of unrealistically-fit men and women in flowy clothing. She rolls her eyes at almost every book cover she sees. 

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” Dory says from behind her, making her jump. “Those kinds of books fly off the shelves.”

Max furrowed her brows, picking up one of the books. “Really?” she asked. “Even… ‘ Love on the Estate ’ sells well?”

Dory nods. “Even I own that one,” she says matter-of-factly.

Max blinks, raises her eyebrows, then gets back to work. She hadn’t originally pegged Dory as the kind to enjoy romance novels, but now, she could imagine it.

It’s meticulous work: picking up five or so books at a time, carrying them out to the main store, locating the correct genre section, and then placing them in the right alphabetical order. But it’s easy to get lost in, to fall into a rhythm. Collect, carry, place. Collect, carry place. 

She doesn’t even realize nearly three hours have passed when Dory calls into the back room, “You can head home if you want, Max.”

Max looks up. “Really?” she says. “It’s already two?”

Dory nods. “Two-thirty, actually. You’re free to go.”

“Oh. Alright.” Max dusts off her jeans and stands up. She’s just now realizing how tired her body is from moving all around the store and lugging stacks of books around for three hours.

“You’ll get your first paycheck in a few weeks. Your next shift is on Wednesday, same time as today. Got it?”

Max nods. “Yep. Thanks.”

“Thank you ,” Dory says. “You were a huge help today. I’m so glad to have you here now.”

Max takes a deep breath. That small compliment, that small praise, has lifted her mood more than she expected. She hasn’t felt that appreciated in a long time. 

“I’m glad I’m here, too. Thank you, Dory.”

She looks out the window. Steve has already pulled up to the store to take her home. He notices her looking and waves to her. She waves back. 

“I’ll see you Wednesday,” Max says to Dory. 

“Yes! Have a great afternoon, hon.”

Max walks out and gets in Steve’s car. As she buckles her seatbelt, he asks, “How’d it go?”

Max smiles. “It went well. Really well.”

“What did you do?”
Max looks into the bookstore, watching Dory talk to a customer with a bright smile on her face. “I helped.”

Chapter Text

It’s the weekend. Not like it matters since she’s not in school, but it means she has no shifts at the bookstore this weekend. Most people might feel relieved, but Max only knew that meant she’d be bored and lonely. 

After she finished stocking at the store on Wednesday, Dorothy taught her how to work the cash register and ring people up. Again, it was easy work. The most difficult part was maybe counting out change, but even that came easy—although she’d always disliked school, she was good at math.

Max is home alone right now. Her mom has been working a lot, even on weekends. The last time she had a true conversation with her ws Tuesday. She doesn’t even know about Max’s job.

The phone rings, scaring Max out of her zoned-out stupor. She gets up and answers it.

“Hey, Max!” It’s Lucas.

“Oh, hey.” It’s been a while since they’ve talked. Max has been busy with work and Lucas has been busy with… whatever he’s doing to prepare for college.

“We’re all going to the Wheeler’s to hang out. Maybe play some games. You in?”

Max’s heart lifts. It’s been so long since they’ve all been together. “I’m in.”

“Awesome! Do you need us to pick you up?”

She could just get Steve to drive her again, but he’s been driving her to work for the past week, so she figures she should find another way to the Wheeler’s house.

“Yeah, if you can,” she says. 

“Yeah, we’re already in the car. We’re going to pick you up and then get El.”

El will be there. For some reason, that surprises her. El isn’t sure if she’s going to go to college yet, but she’s been just as unavailable as the others. Max has no clue why.

“Okay. See you soon.”

“See you soon.” Max can hear the smile in Lucas’s voice, and she can’t help but smile herself.

+++

Max is in Lucas’s car on the way to get El. She’s in the backseat next to Will, and Dustin is in the front seat. She’s just now realizing how much she missed her friends.

Her friends, and Lucas.

They’ve been technically together for about three years, pretty much since the moment she woke up from the coma. But for the past month or so, it hasn’t felt like they’re together. They’ve barely seen each other, barely talked. Max has missed him.

From the smile Lucas gives Max in the mirror, he’s missed her, too.

They pull up to the Hopper cabin. The Hoppers and Byers are planning to buy a house to move into together, but for now, they’re still living in their own homes. So, when Max, Lucas, Dustin, and Will walk into the cabin, there are boxes everywhere. 

“El?” Will calls.

“I’m in my bedroom,” she responds.

They walk into her room, where she sits on her bed, folding sweaters and placing them into a box. She grins when she sees them.

“Hi!” she says, jumping up. 

She walks straight to Max and wraps her up in a hug. Max is stunned for a second, then hugs her back. 

“I missed you,” El says. 

“I missed you, too,” Max says. “How’s the packing going?”

El shrugs. “It’s fine. I don’t have a lot of things, so there isn’t much to pack.”

Every day, Max is still surprised at how naturally El speaks. She still remembers when she first met her and she struggled with some grammar basics, but now it’s like nothing ever happened. 

“We should get going,” Dustin says. “Mike will pick a game without us if we’re late.”

“Ugh, he will,” Max says. 

They all load into the car. El takes the last spot in the back, so now Max is squished in the middle. She doesn’t mind.

They pull up to Mike’s house and unload from the small car. It really can’t fit five people, but they do it anyway.

Inside, Mrs. Wheeler is in the kitchen, stirring something in a large metal bowl. Holly sits at the counter, doing homework. Another thing Max can’t believe: little Holly is nine now.

“Hi, everyone,” Mrs. Wheeler says, clearly shocked at the number of people walking through her house. “Mike is downstairs.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Wheeler,” Lucas says quickly. The group walks to the basement door, and just as Dustin puts his hand on the knob, it flies open. There stands Mike, shaggy hair looking unbrushed and shirt buttoned crookedly. 

Mrs. Wheeler sees him and tut-tuts him. “Michael, did you even try to look decent?”

“I woke up thirty minutes ago, Mom! I didn’t realize they were all coming so early!” Mike protested. 

Max notices El looking at her former boyfriend with a look of amusement. She didn’t realize until they broke up, but they really are better off as friends. El even told her that right before he kissed her for the first time, he talked about his parents adopting her and mentioned that Nancy would be like her sister. How weird is that? Not very romantic, in Max’s opinion.

“Alright, we’re going downstairs,” Mike says loudly to Mrs. Wheeler, who is shaking her head at him exasperatedly. 

They all pound down the stairs into the basement. It’s changed so much over the years. It used to be a cozy den full of nerd stuff. But now, the game table the party used to play D&D at has been replaced by a bigger folding table. The video game and movie posters have been taken down, packed into a box presumably labeled MIKE COLLEGE . All the stray toys that used to litter the floor and shelves are long gone, donated to appreciative children.

It’s not the place Max and the others knew for most of their teenage years, but still, it’s one of the homiest places Max knows.

They all sit down, Will, Mike, and Dustin on the couch and the others sprawled across the floor. 

“So. We haven’t talked in like a month. What’s going on with everyone?” Will asks. 

“I’ve been trying to talk my mom out of getting another cat once I leave,” Dustin says. “It’s not going well.”

Max laughs. “Just let her do it, dude. Maybe that way she’ll only call twice a week instead of every day!”

That quip sends a ripple of laughter through the basement, and this. This is what Max missed. Sitting, laughing, talking with her friends. Not having to worry about filling the awkward silences because there are none—just content ones. 

But before she knows, it’ll all be gone. One day, they’ll all drive off to their respective colleges, and Max will be alone again. Except, maybe, for El, but who knows how long she’ll stick around?

“Uh, I got a job,” Max says, mostly to quiet the depressing thoughts circling her mind. “At a bookstore.”

“You hate reading,” Lucas says immediately. Max smiles at how quickly Lucas recalled that.

“Yeah, but a job’s a job, and it’s easy. The owner, Dory, is super friendly, too.”

“Woah,” Mike says, sounding shocked. “Could it be? Does Max… not immediately hate someone?”

“No way,” Dustin says. 

Max rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. That makes me sound like a jerk.”

Even Lucas, her boyfriend , grimaces. “Well.”

“Oh, come on!” she says again. She crosses her arms and turns to the side, pretending to be upset. “Fine, then. I get it.”

Lucas tackles her from the side, wrapping his arms around her torso. “Oh, don’t be like that. You know we’re joking.”

Max looks back at him with a grin. “I know.” Lucas’s arms are still around her. 

God, she’s missed him. She’s missed him so much.

Someone clears their throat. “Quit it, lovebirds,” Dustin jeers.Lucas lets go of Max and goes back to his spot leaning against the folding table. 

Max’s face is on fire, but she doesn’t care. Being held like that, being looked at like that, sharing a moment like that… it’s so special, so rare these days, that she’d do anything to hold on to it.

“I think they’re cute,” El says, smiling. Considering she’s the only one without a partner in the group, she’s incredibly supportive of everyone else’s romances. 

“Yeah, well, it’s still gross,” Dustin says, sticking his tongue out at Lucas and Max.

“You don’t complain like that when Will and I are like that,” Mike points out.

Dustin shrugs. “Yeah, well, that was because we were all so glad you guys had finally cut the crap and gotten together.”

Blush blossoms on Will’s cheeks. Even after all these years, he still seems bashful whenever the topic of his and Mike’s relationship comes up. They’re so cute together.

“I think you’re just jealous that you never get to see Suzie,” Max says. 

“No, I’m not!” Dustin objects. “It’s just weird seeing my friends hang all over each other like that.”

Lucas leans over and smacks a kiss on Max’s cheek. Max grins. Lucas gives Dusin a pointed look, raising his eyebrows like he was challenging him to complain. Dustin just rolled his eyes.

He is definitely a bit jealous. Suzie lives all the way in Utah, and they won’t see each other for a long time—they aren’t going to the same college, and once it starts, they’ll have no chances to visit each other.

Max knows that it must be hard to be in a long-distance relationship for that long. But she also knows that, soon enough, she’ll be experiencing that. Lucas is going to IU Bloomington, and while they’ll still be in the same state, they’ll be far enough away that visits will be scarce.

Max desperately wanted to apply to all the colleges her friends were applying to. But she knew that there was no chance she’d be able to afford any of them. Even community college wasn’t a reasonable option. Every bit of money her mom (and her, now) earned had to go to paying for their tiny trailer, for their car, for the bills. Furthering her education hadn’t been in the picture for a long time.

“Max?” Lucas waves a hand in front of her face. “Are you okay?”

Max snaps out of her thoughts. Lucas is looking at her, worried. She knows what he’s thinking about—Spring Break 1986. When her zoning out meant terrible, terrible things.

“Sorry,” she says. “Just thinking about things.”

“Well,” Mike says. “Enough about… whatever we’re talking about. Game time!”

Dustin suggests Monopoly, and, to Will and El’s annoyance, Mike, Lucas, and Max support the idea. So, for the next three hours, they sit at the game table, playing possibly the longest game of Monopoly ever. 

But, despite the game that seems like it’ll never end, Max hasn’t had such a good time in so long. She’s missed her friends so much. 

Today, she thinks as she laughs with her friends, is perfect. 

Chapter Text

On Monday, Lucas drives Max to work. They talk the whole time, just catching up on everything they missed. It feels right.

As Max grabs her bag and gets out of the car, Lucas tugs on her arm. “Wait.”

Max turns around. “What?”

Lucas pulls her in and kisses her softly. “That’s all. Have a good day.”

Max walks into the bookstore giddy. For a while, it didn’t feel like she even had a boyfriend, but now, everything is perfect.

But when she walks into the shop, Dory is sitting behind the counter, head in her hands, sobbing.

Max drops her bag and runs over to her. “Dory! What’s wrong?”

Dory sniffles and shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry, hon.”

Max obviously doesn’t believe her, but she knows she shouldn’t pry. If Dory wants to talk about whatever’s making her cry like this, she will.

“Okay.” Max grabs her bag and walks to the back room. Technically, her shift today is working the register, but she felt like it’d be awkward to just stand there while Dory is upset, so now she's wandering around the store room, looking for a way to procrastinate going back to the front. 

She does not succeed, but she sees Dory walking past the store room door, wiping at her eyes, so she takes the chance to go back to the register. She sets her bag down and pulls out the notebook she uses to track the sales she makes. Having this notebook helps her stay organized, and being able to see all the work she did that day gives her a sense of purpose she didn’t know she needed. 

However, business today is slow, giving her plenty of time to dwell on what had Dory so upset. 

Maybe it wasn’t one specific thing. Maybe she just broke down. Max understood that all too well—for the past few years, the weight of the trauma, the anxiety, the memories sometimes all came crashing down on her at random times and she couldn’t help but fall apart. It’s been better lately, but from time to time, she still feels it. She still feels the pain that lingers, refusing to let her live in peace. 

But she doesn’t want to feel like that anymore. She won’t let herself feel like that anymore. 

There are no incoming customers, so Max heads to find Dory. She isn’t in the store room or her tiny office. She finally finds her among the bookshelves, mindlessly reorganizing the A-through-D shelf in the mystery section. She sniffles every few seconds

“Dory?” Max says. 

Dory looks up, clearly startled. “Oh, hi, Max. Do you need something?”

Max shakes her head  “No. I just wanted to let you know… if you want to talk about anything, I can listen. But if you don’t want to talk about whatever is bothering you, I completely get it. Just want you to know that.”

Dory’s face softens and her eyes fill with tears. “Oh, thank you, hon,” she says, wiping her cheeks. “It’s nothing, really, just… I had a fight with my daughter.”

“You have a daughter?” Max asked, surprised. Dory had never mentioned having children, or even a spouse. 

Dory nodded, a wistful smile coming over her face. “Yes, I do. Lillian. She’s… twenty-seven now.” She sighs. “We’ve never gotten along that well. She had more in common with her dad, but when it came to personality, we were very similar. Too similar.”

Max gets that. She and her mom both have very big, outgoing personalities, and they used to clash often because of it. 

“Does she live here?” Max asks. 

“No, she moved to Florida for college and stayed when she found the love of her life.” From her tone, Max suspects Dory isn’t a fan of this love . 

Dory sighs again. “Oh, well, I don’t need to bother you with my problems. It’s really no big deal.”

It seems like it is to Dory, but Max knows not to try to dig any further. Dory opened up a lot to Max, and that was nice—it’s good to know Dory trusted her after only knowing her for a week or so.

That evening, when Steve drops her off at her trailer, her mom’s car is parked outside it. It’s been a while since they’ve been able to talk, so—especially after talking to Dory today—Max plans to walk in and try to initiate a nice conversation.

But when she pushes open the door, fumes of cigarettes and alcoholic drinks engulf her. 

Her heart sinks to her feet. She thought her mom was fine. She thought she was sober.  

But now, everything that she thought had gotten better has been thrown out the window. 

She’s been drinking and smoking again. God. Why can’t she just stay sober? Why can’t she just stay happy?!

“Maxine?” she hears her mom calling. “Is that you, are you home, sweetie?”

Max doesn’t respond. She doesn’t set her bag down. She just turns around, slams the door behind her, and starts running. She can’t be here right now. 

She doesn’t have any destination in mind—she’s just running. And running. She’s out of breath and her legs are burning like crazy, but she doesn’t care. It feels good. It’s a distraction from the heartbreak of her mom falling back into her old, horrible habits.

She has no clue how—maybe muscle memory, maybe her subconscious mind—but she ends up standing outside Lucas’s house. She really doesn’t want Lucas, let alone his whole family, to see her like this, but she toughs it up and knocks on the door anyway.

It takes about a minute for the door to open. During that minute, she tries her best to catch her breath and stop crying. But she can’t. The tears, the heaving sobs, just keep coming. It will never end. The pain will never end.

The door finally opens and fourteen-year-old Erica Sinclair stands there, looking at the door with a bored, annoyed expression. But then she sees who it is and sees that there’s something wrong, and her expression turns worried.

“Max?” she says. “Are you okay?”

Max tries to respond, but all that comes out are stifled breaths. She just shakes her head. 

Erica calls for Lucas. Max barely hears it—she just hears her mother’s voice over and over again—she realizes now that when she called her sweetie , her words were slurred.

Lucas arrives and immediately wraps his arms around Max. Max just leans her head against his neck and stares at the ground. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Lucas says. But he doesn’t even know what’s wrong. He doesn’t know if it’s going to be okay. Max doesn’t even know if it’s going to be okay. She doesn’t think so.

Max shakes her head. “My mom—” she sobs. “She– I thought she was better. But she’s drinking again. It was a lot. I could– I could smell it.”

Lucas squeezes Max tighter. “It’s gonna be okay,” he repeats again, this time firmer, more sure.

“I thought things were getting better,” Max says, finally regaining some sense of composure. Her eyes are still clouded with tears, though. “I thought maybe it could be normal. I was fine. I thought she was, too. Why isn’t she?”

“You can’t force someone to be fine,” Lucas says gently. “And… Max, are you sure you were fine?”

Max leans back from their embrace. “What do you mean?” Of course she was fine. She is fine. 

“You’ve been so quiet for the past few years. You’ve been anxious—I can tell, even if you say you’re fine. You’ve been… distant, even when we’re all together. I know what fine looks like for you, trust me. And… you haven’t been it in a long time.”

Shoot. Max is inexplicably mad, because he is right. He is right, because she hasn’t been fine for a very long time. 

“I’m sorry,” she sobs. “You’re right. I’m not okay. I’m not okay.”

Lucas squeezes Max tight. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

Max desperately wants to believe him.

+++

Mrs. Sinclair graciously allows Max to stay over that night, but insists she sleeps in a sleeping bag on Erica’s floor. Nowhere near Lucas, but that’s fine. She has a feeling if she was with Lucas, she’d just cry again. There’s something about being around him that makes all her emotions show themselves. 

Still, Max sat awake for hours, listening to the quiet hum of Erica’s breathing. She couldn’t fall asleep. She was in a house filled with people who cared about her, who let her stay over on short notice, but all she could think about was how much things suddenly sucked again. Her mom had fallen back into old habits she’d promised she’d give up, and Max had finally accepted that she still wasn’t okay, even after all this time. Somehow, acknowledging her lingering pain made it worse. 

But she knew she couldn’t just stay up all night. She had work in the morning, and despite all that had happened, she still planned to go. She couldn’t let Dory down.  

“Max,” Erica says. Since when was she awake?

“Yeah?” Max says, her voice weak and raspy from sobbing. 

“Go to sleep.” 

Max tries her best to take Erica’s advice. She really does.

+++

But when the sun rises the next morning, Max still hasn’t slept. She tried, she really did, but sleep just wouldn’t come. Her thoughts wouldn’t quiet down, and even when she lay there for hours, eyes closed, breathing slowly, she couldn’t fall asleep.

She doesn’t feel tired, though. Actually, she feels more energized than she has in a while. Strange.

Mrs. Sinclair pops into the room. “Hey, girls. Sorry to wake you, but Erica has school stuff to pick up. Max, there’s pancakes downstairs if you like some.”

Max tried her hand at a thankful smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Sinclair.”

“Oh, call me Sue, honey,” she says. Max knows she won’t, and Mrs. Sinclair probably knows that, too, but Max nods kindly anyway.

Max stands up and pulls her long, knotty hair into a low-effort low bun. But she hates the way it presses against her neck, so she takes it down and tries again, this time placing the bun higher on her head. Better.

She leaves Erica to get dressed and walks downstairs. The smell of breakfast wafts towards her, and despite having little to no appetite, it smells heavenly. Maybe one pancake wouldn’t be so bad. 

Lucas is already sitting at the table. He lights up when he sees her. Max really wants to give him a good-morning kiss, but his parents are here and she probably has morning breath.

She sits down and puts a golden-brown pancake on the plate in front of her. She cuts it up into small pieces, and when she takes her first bite, she has to hold back a moan. “Damn, Mr. Sinclair, these pancakes are so good!”

Mr. Sinclair looks over and smiles. “Thank you, Max! Been making them with the same recipe for years. Call them Chuckcakes .”

Mrs. Sinclair rolls her eyes. “Charles. Honey. No, you don’t.”

Mr. Sinclair shrugs, grinning at his wife. “I could, though. I could.”

Max likes watching the two of them banter, but it also makes her sad—it reminds her of what having normal, healthy, happy parent s could be like. She hasn’t known what that was for a very long time. She really doesn’t want to be jealous of the Sinclairs, but, unfortunately, she is.

“Max?” Lucas says. She realizes she’s been staring at his parents for a few minutes. They don’t seem to have noticed.

Max shakes herself out of her stupor. “Sorry. Yeah?”

“You were zoning out.”

“Sorry,” she says again. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” Lucas asks. 

Everything . But that’s not a good answer. Lucas wants to actually know what’s up with her—it took her too many years to realize that. He cares. He cares so much.

“My mom,” Max answers quietly. Maybe it isn’t the entire truth, but she doesn’t want to tell Lucas she’s jealous of his parents. “I just wish things were different. I wish things were normal.”

Lucas takes Max’s hand over the table. “It’ll be okay,” he says. Honestly, Max really wishes he’d stop saying that. He doesn’t know it will be.

She just shrugs. “Hope so. I really, really hope so.”

The thing is, she knows it won’t be. Because soon, all her friends will leave. She’ll be alone. All alone, with only her mom and her job to keep her company. And if her mom’s condition stays like this, she’d rather have no one than her drunk mother.

She knows that’s harsh. But her mother is so difficult to be around when she’s been drinking. She gets angry at every little thing, shouts and screams at Max, and then gets weepy when Max gets angry at her. Then, five minutes later, she acts all sweet and loving, like nothing happened. Like she didn’t just make Max feel worthless with only a few words. 

In summary, Max hates her mom when she’s drunk.

Max realizes she must be zoning out again, so she snaps out of it before Lucas notices. “So… could I get a ride to work?” she asks.

Mrs. Sinclair looks over. “Oh, you’re working now? Of course, honey!”

Max tries to give her a grateful smile. “Thank you so much.”

“Where do you work?” she asks.

“The bookstore downtown.” She doesn’t need to specify which one, because there’s only one. Plus… she doesn’t actually know its name. For all she knows, it’s name could just be Bookstore. But knowing Dory’s lack of simplicity, she doubts it.

“Oh, I love that place!” Mrs. Sinclair gushes. “I’ve found some great reads there. Do you read a lot, Max?”

Max shrugs even though the answer is a definite no . “Not really. But the bookstore is a nice job. The owner, Dory, is really nice.”

“Dory? I’ve never met a Dory,” Mrs. Sinclair says. “She might not have been working at the front when I went.”

“When did you go?” Max asks.

“Oh, years ago. Before the earthquakes.”

Max didn’t know the store had existed before the earthquakes. Had Dory only owned it since Hawkins was rebuilt?

“Do you know who owned it before?” Max asks. She’s suddenly very curious about this store she’s come to love.

Mrs. Sinclair nods. “A nice young lady. Lillian, I think her name was.”

Lillian . Dory’s daughter used to own the bookstore. Why hadn’t Dory mentioned that?

Well. Max knows why: that was part of what hurt. Dory and Lillian had both owned the bookstore. They clearly both loved books, and she’s sure the store was as special to Lillian as it is to Dory. If Dory brought that up after their fight, she probably would have been even more upset.

“Oh,” Max says. 

“Do you know her?” Mrs. Sinclair asks, reminding Max she isn’t a very good actress.

“Oh, no, I don’t. I just thought Dory had always owned it.” There, that was better. More believable.

It’s not like it’s a big deal. But for some reason, she wants to keep this discovery to herself. It feels important to her, and she can’t explain why. 

Lucas gives her a look—he knows her. She just shrugs. 

She’s going to have to talk to Dory about this.

+++

Why is being at work so hard? Today, specifically? She’s tired most days, stressed most days, but work is always a fun distraction. 

But today, it’s anything but. She can’t focus on her work—all she’s thinking about is that her mom is at home, probably still drunk. Probably still smoking. Either way, her mom is definitely at her worst.

And Max left her. 

Her mom is doing horribly, and Max just left. Didn’t see if she was okay—well, she knew she wasn’t. She just left . Without telling her.

Max feels horrible. She’s a horrible daughter. How could she just leave her like that? She obviously needed her. 

No , Max thinks. She won’t let herself think like that. She needed her mother . And now that she’s thinking about it, she can’t recall the last time her mom was truly there for her. Certainly not anytime soon.

She left because she felt betrayed. She left because she couldn’t stand to watch her mother fall apart, again . She left because she needed to. Not because she was a horrible daughter. She wasn’t. Even if she had stayed, it’s not like she could have helped her. Her mom would have gotten offended if she tried to get her to stop drinking. Whenever she got like this, she was beyond help.

After telling herself this, she feels more relaxed. She knows there’s nothing she can do. She knows she made the right choice in leaving. 

The only problem is, she doesn’t know when she’ll go back home, and all her clothes are still there.