Archive of Our Own

Max slouches low in her chair, rolling her eyes at the library ceiling. Coffee-colored damp spots have seeped across the white paint over the years, and Max is beginning to question whether maybe the ceiling was actually painted brown. Sure, it would be a weird interior design choice, but this is New York, after all.

Her Psychology textbook is firmly shut on the desk in front of her, as it has been for the past thirty minutes, and Max has had to entertain herself by examining every inch of the ceiling above her.

Lowering her eyes, Max turns her gaze on Mike, sitting across from her and frowning into some old book his English class is currently studying. She’s sure he complained about it non-stop on the walk over to the library (Max had the misfortune of bumping into him on her walk from her lecture this morning), but she really can’t bring herself to pay attention to all of his whining.

She quickly glances around the table – both Dustin and Lucas are still studying hard – and kicks her foot into Mike’s lanky leg under the table.

“Hey!” Mike jerks backwards and tumbles sideways out of the chair, crashing onto the floor.

“Cmon, man. I know you’re clumsy, but this is to another level. How d’you manage to fall over when you’re already sitting down?” Lucas sighs amidst the chorus of hushing from the surrounding students.

Dustin snickers, not lifting his eyes from the brick of a Physics textbook in front of him. “Is Will wearing those new jeans again?”

“Shut up!” Mike flushes, his pale face suddenly flooded with pink. He frantically looks over both shoulders as if Will could have materialised behind him at Dustin’s mention of him.

“Don’t worry, he’s not here,” Max smiles sweetly. “Didn’t he have a date with that guy from his art class?”

“Oh yeah,” Dustin nods, smirking. “Carlton, wasn’t it?”

Mike turns an impressive shade of red. “He isn’t on a date,” he says through gritted teeth. “They’re going to the museum together because they’re doing similar projects.”

“Sure, buddy,” Dustin pats Mike’s arm gently.

“They have similar styles,” Mike insists.

“Uh huh,” Lucas hums, turning back to his notebook.

Mike looks like he wants to protest some more, but Jane swoops in from around the corner and he clamps his lips shut.

Max would continue to make fun of him, but the sight of Jane causes her heart to skip in her chest and the words die on her tongue. While Jane seems to have a calming effect on the rest of the group, Max’s heart can’t help but go into overdrive every time they’re in the same room as each other. Which, as roommates, is practically all the time.

The harsh lights of the library aren’t flattering in any way, but somehow Jane still manages to look as perfect as ever. Her chocolate hair cascades in curls down her back, and the fluorescent lighting manages to highlight the honey strands that glimmer like gold. Big hoop earrings hang from her ears (Max had gone with her at the start of their first semester and had managed to keep her cool while Jane had gripped onto her hand as the needle pierced her skin), and a silver heart necklace is looped around her neck.

Max’s hand unconsciously drifts towards her own chest, where her matching necklace lies under her t-shirt. That same day as the earrings, they had spent the afternoon wandering New York’s streets, enjoying Jane’s newfound freedom. At the sight of these necklaces hanging from some market stall, Jane had turned to Max with an excited smile on her face.

“Will you get one with me?” she had asked.

“Why do I need one too?” Max had laughed, internally shaking her head at the (clearly fake) silver chains.

Jane had frowned, grabbed Max’s hand, and dragged her closer to the stall.

“See,” she had said. “They are matching. For best friends.”

With Jane pouting at her like that, Max had had no choice but to get the necklaces. And if Max insisted on paying for both of them, well, that’s nobody else’s business.

Max shakes her head, pulling herself back to the present. Jane swishes over in her pink-purple-blue patchwork skirt and sits in the chair next to Max.

So what if she made sure no one else sat there when the rest of the group arrived two hours ago? The weird looks she had received from Lucas were now worth it, as Jane leans forwards and folds her arms on the desk. The purple bell sleeves fan out over the table, and Max recognises the material as one of her old sheets that she had tried to throw away months ago. Jane must have taken it to her fashion class.

“Why are we laughing at Mike?” Jane asks softly.

“He fell out of his chair,” Dustin grins.

Mike scowls. “Only because someone kicked me!”

Four pairs of eyes swivel over to stare at Max.

“Why do you all assume it was me?” she asks neutrally.

“That’s not a denial,” Dustin says.

“Forget physics, get the man a law degree,” Max mutters.

Mike grins in triumph “See? It’s not my fault! I’m not that clumsy.”

“Debatable,” Lucas interjects.

Jane frowns and places a hand on Max’s arm. The warmth of it seeps through Max’s jacket, and she finds her eyes are stuck on Jane’s purple nail polish. They still look perfect, completely unchipped three days later. Max doesn’t know how she manages it.

“Max, how could you kick Mike onto the floor?” she asks seriously.

“Thank you,” Mike says, his smug smile growing.

Jane tilts her head in acknowledgement of his words. “You should have waited for me to get here.”

Mike’s grin turns into a scowl. “I don’t know why I even try with you people.”

“You people?” Max gasps in mock outrage. “Wow, Wheeler. Just because Jane and I are women–”

“I hate you,” he glares.

Max cackles as Jane nods sagely.

“Women are not a different species, Mike,” she says with the tone of a kindergarten teacher explaining a very simple rule for the fiftieth time to an especially dense child.

Max laughs harder and Mike splutters, turning to Lucas and Dustin desperately.

“They’re bullying me,” he complains.

“Sorry, dude. Maybe try that kind of pathetic look on Will,” Lucas suggests with a grin.

“Yeah, maybe he’ll kiss it better for you,” Dustin smirks, and begins to make fake kissy sounds in Mike’s direction.

The click of heels on the polished floor cuts through their squabbling, as the librarian rounds the corner and glares at their table. She looks pointedly at the door, and the group sigh as they brush their various books and stationary into their bags and exit the library.

Max thinks that the complaints of her friends – “I’m blaming you when I fail this test” – are worth the beaming smile on Jane’s face. She’d get them kicked out of every library in the city if it would keep Jane smiling.

***

That evening, Max finds herself sitting in a booth in a bar with Dustin and Lucas. She squirms uncomfortably – something sticky has attached itself from the plastic cover of the seats to the bottom of her jeans.

Jane and Mike approach the table, and Jane shoots Max a smile as she leans over the table to be heard over the chatter of the bar.

“I’m going to get a drink. Do you want me to get you anything?” she asks softly.

Jane is leaning close enough that her breath brushes over Max’s tangled red hair, and she holds back a shiver as the curls blow against her neck. If Max turned her head a little to the left, she would be met with Jane’s deep brown eyes, close enough to pick out the flecks of gold in the darkness.

“Max?” Jane shakes her shoulder gently. “Did you hear me?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Max shakes her head clear of those dangerous thoughts. The last thing she needs is for Jane to find out about her not-so-platonic feelings in a shitty bar surrounded by the smell of cheap beer.

Max pats down her pockets, pulling out a few crumpled dollar bills from the depths of her jacket. Judging by the cascade of crumbs onto the floor as she pulls her hand out, they’d probably been in there for a while.

“Here,” she says, handing the money to Jane. “It’s on me.”

Jane beams at her. “What should I get you?”

“Dealer’s choice,” Max grins.

Jane sashays away to the bar, and Max watches the bottom of her skirt dance around her ankles. God, she is getting pathetic. Swooning at the sliver of skin between her skirt and her heeled boots like a Victorian gentleman.

Managing to pull her eyes away, Max turns back to the group and is met with three suspicious stares. 

“What is it?” she asks. “Is there a reason why you’re all staring at me like I’ve suddenly sprouted a second head?”

“Nothing,” Lucas breaks first, turning back to his beer. From the years that they were together, Lucas is the only one of the group who seems to understand that they will never be able to out-stubborn Max.

Max raises an eyebrow at the other boys, and Dustin follows Lucas’s lead, withering under Max’s stare.

“It’s not nothing,” Mike announces. “You were weird, just then.”

“Weird?” Max turns her most sarcastic expression on Mike. “You want to talk to me about being weird?”

“Ha ha,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“No, please, enlighten me, Wheeler. In what way was I weird?”

“You were weirdly nice to El.”

“Uh…OK? Sorry for being nice to my friends?”

“Exactly!” Mike exclaims triumphantly. “Since when were you nice to any of us?”

Max turns to Dustin and Lucas slowly. “Is this how you two feel as well?”

“Well…” Dustin begins.

“You definitely treat El in a… different way to the rest of us,” Lucas says carefully. “Not that I’m taking Mike’s side!” he adds in a hurry.

“It’s clear favoritism,” Mike complains. “You pay for her stuff, you always save her the best seat, I even saw you carrying her books the other week!”

“Yes,” Max nods slowly. “Jane is my favorite.”

“Ouch,” Will smiles, sliding into the booth next to Mike.

“Will!” Mike grins and immediately pushes an untouched drink across the table to him.

Max shoots him a look. “What was that you were saying about favoritism, Wheeler?”

Mike at least has the decency to look embarrassed before turning his attention back to Will. “How was the museum?” he asks.

“Fine,” Will waves his hand. “Heard you guys got kicked out of the library again.”

As Mike launches into a tirade against the librarian, probably explaining how the whole incident was Max’s fault and so, really, she should have been the only one sent out, Jane returns to the table with two drinks in hand.

“Thanks,” Max smiles, taking the glass from her and making space on her side of the booth.

“Oh!” Will interrupts Mike’s rambling. “Jane’s buying you a drink for once?”

“Thank you,” Mike mutters as Max feels her face heat up.

“No,” Jane says, smiling, completely unaware of the conversation she had missed while up at the bar. “Max gave me some money.”

“That was nice of her,” Dustin says, trying and failing to hold back a laugh.

“Of course,” Jane frowns. “Max is always nice.”

She states this as if it is a fact of the universe, something as undisputable as gravity. Max can’t help the way that her heart warms at this, and it’s all she can do to stop a stupidly lovesick smile from spreading across her face.

Get yourself together, Max tells herself.

Judging by the amused looks Max is getting from the other side of the booth, she isn’t as good as she once was at carefully controlling her expressions.

She settles for scowling into her beer instead.

“She is very nice,” Jane is insisting.

“Yes,” Will agrees. “Anyway, sorry I’m late. After the museum, Carlton said we should get lunch together, and then we ended up going back to his place–”

“What?” Mike splutters, nearly choking on his drink.

“Not like that!” Will flushes.

Max smirks at Mike over her glass and kicks his foot under the table. He glares at her and stomps down hard on her toes.

“Ow!” Dustin yelps. “What was that for?”

“Oh– Sorry, Dustin. I was aiming for someone else,” Mike says, glaring harder at Max as she grins smugly at him.

“You two,” Lucas shakes his head. “Honestly, Dustin, sometimes it feels like we’re the parents of two very naughty children.”

“Who are we in this scenario?” Will asks mildly, lightly waving his hand between himself and Jane.

A mischievous glint shines in Dustin’s eye. “You must have married into this dysfunctional family. You’re the only responsible ones here”

“I would never marry Mike,” Jane frowns.

“I wouldn’t mind being married to Max,” Will considers thoughtfully. “It’s not like I’ll be able to actually marry someone, anyway.”

“Well, that’s depressing,” Dustin sighs. “But in this imaginary family, anything is possible. You’re married to Mike,” he gestures between the two of them,” and Jane is married to Max. Someone has to keep an eye on those two.”

Max and Mike both kick Dustin’s shin under the table.

“Naughty, naughty,” Dustin grins, waggling his finger at them.

Jane leans against Max’s shoulder and smiles at her. “I wouldn’t mind being married to you,” she whispers, lips gently brushing over Max’s ear.

Oh. OK. Max struggles to form a coherent response to that, but her brain seems to have switched itself off. This is what being Mike would feel like, is the only thought she can muster, but she can’t very well say that out loud without explaining the effect of Jane’s proximity.

Jane’s head comes to rest on Max’s shoulder and she begins to hum softly, the vibrations of her voice shooting down Max’s arm. Without thinking, Max raises her hand to softly brush it through Jane’s silky hair. While Jane was one of the few people on earth entirely capable of pulling off a buzz cut, Max prefers her hair like this. It suits Jane better, and it’s clear that Jane also prefers it this way through the care she puts into looking after it. 

“Aw, look at the happy couple,” Dustin coos.

“Which one?” Lucas snorts, and Max’s eyes drift away from Jane to see Mike and Will in very close proximity to each other, noses nearly touching as Will whispers something to Mike that makes him break out into a laugh.

As they walk back to their dorms later that night, Will and Jane wander in front of the group, linking arms as Jane bombards Will with questions about his date with Carlton.

Mike and Max walk in silence behind them, both gazing wistfully at the two in front of them. 

“God, we’re pathetic,” Mike sighs.

“Speak for yourself, Wheeler,” Max looks at him sideways.

He stares back, an eyebrow raised. Something he’s clearly picked up from Max, and is now using against her.

“Fine,” she relents. “You may have a point.”

“I’m glad you’re admitting it,” Mike says, looking far too satisfied, in Max’s opinion.

“Well,” Max shrugs, “Turns out everyone else seems to know anyway. Well, everyone except Jane.”

“And everyone except Will, for me,” Mike agrees.

“So what are you two gonna do about it?” Dustin strides up from behind, wrapping his arm around their shoulders.

“What do you mean?” Mike says, trying and failing to shrug his arm away.

“Don’t act dumb,” Dustin sighs.

“Oh, it’s not an act,” says Max.

Mike moves to elbow Max and instead jabs Dustin in the ribs.

“Really, man? That’s the second time tonight.”

“Yeah, it’s time for you guys to stop dancing around it. Both of you,” Lucas adds sternly.

“Where did you even come from?” Mike mutters.

“You need to make your moves,” Lucas carries on, ignoring him. “In fact, I say let’s make this interesting. The first one of you to land the respective love of their life doesn’t pay for their own drinks for the rest of the year.”

“That means only paying for one lot of drinks instead of two,” Dustin grins at them.

“Please,” Max scoffs. “As if I would base my love life on not paying for drinks.”

“As much as I hate to agree with her, she’s right,” Mike nods. “I’m not risking my friendship with Will for some stupid bet.”

“But it’s not just the drinks, Michael,” Dustin declares, gesturing wildly.

Lucas grins. “It’s also a chance for you to beat your arch nemesis, once and for all. I mean, think about it. Whoever wins can hold it over the other one… for eternity.”

“You are greatly overestimating our pettiness,” Max says, shaking her head.

“Uh huh,” Mike agrees.

“Maybe. But wouldn’t it just eat you up inside, knowing you had let the other one beat you?”

Max pauses, quickly glancing over at Mike. She can see him considering it, watching Will and Jane laugh under a streetlight up ahead.

Max watches Jane, the way she seems to glow in the light. Despite all the darkness she has been through, she somehow manages to remain the best and brightest person in Max’s life. Unlike Max, whose own experiences have made her bitter and cynical, Jane instead glitters with goodness. 

Maybe what Dustin said in the bar wasn’t entirely untrue. Both her and Mike could do with someone to balance them out, to hold them back from the worst impulses, to stop them when they go too far.

She looks back at Mike, and realizes from his expression that he has reached the same conclusion she has.

“I’m in,” she sighs. God, she’s going to regret this.

“Me too,” Mike nods.

“Well, then,” says Dustin. “May the best man – or woman – win.”

***

Max scowls as she rushes across campus in the rain. It’s day one, and Mike is already winning this stupid competition.

He and Will are walking behind her, heads dangerously close together under their shared umbrella. Every so often, Mike trips over some invisible bump in the street – Max is ninety percent sure he’s faking it, but he might just be that clumsy – and stumbles into Will, who steadies him with an offered arm.

Stupid, Max internally curses herself. How could you forget your umbrella? That’s like the cliche for couples in the rain.

Well, that and kissing, but Max isn’t sure springing that on Jane out of nowhere would go down well.

Shooting a look behind her, Max sighs. At this rate, Mike will have won before the day is out. She’d never be able to live that down.

She chances a look to her left, and finds Jane walking with a kind of grace that should be impossible in this kind of rain. Her face is turned upwards towards the steely clouds, and droplets of water caress her cheeks, running over her features and streaming down her neck before soaking into the pink fabric of her top.

Jane blinks her eyes open, and turns her head to smile at Max. Leaning close, she whispers conspiratorially in her ear. “Let’s make a run for it.”

Max kicks herself internally. Instead of a romantic stroll in the rain, she’s getting a hurried dash for safety. She silently curses Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and everything involved in this godforsaken competition.

 “Ready?” Jane murmurs, and Max’s eyes are drawn to a droplet of water that is slowly dropping from her bottom lip.

Max nods, her throat dry,

“Go!” Jane shouts, grabbing Max by the hand.

She drags Max through the street, dodging groups of students who had been smart enough to bring raincoats, and pulling her around a flickering streetlight.

Jane’s hand is warm and soft, despite the general wetness that seeps into everything in this kind of persistent rain. Max tightens her grip, sliding their fingers more securely together as Jane turns, beaming at her. Strands of her brown hair are plastered to the sides of her face, her clothes are soaked through, and her necklace has somehow become twisted in both her hair and clothes, but Max has still never seen a more beautiful sight.

Max stumbles, but Jane tugs her hand to right her balance, and they’re running again, weaving through the sharp pellets of rain. Jane is laughing, loud and joyful, and Max can’t help but join in, slightly hysterically.

By the time Jane pulls them into their dorm building, both girls are shaking with uncontrollable laughter. Max grips onto Jane’s arms, convinced that she will collapse onto the slippery ground the moment she lets go, and Jane’s hands form matching bracelets around Max’s own arms as they hold each other upright.

A senior walks past them, looking more than a little concerned as he takes in their dishevelled appearance. Max meets Jane’s eyes, and they both collapse into another fit of laughter. The student rushes out of the doors quickly, clearly favoring his chances in the downpour than inside with the seemingly hysterical pair.

The doors swing open again, this time spilling a slightly less soaked Will and Mike into the foyer. 

For some reason, the sight of their bewildered faces sets Jane and Max off again, and it’s another few minutes before either of them have caught their breath enough to speak.

“Have a nice run?” Mike asks, raising his eyebrows at Max.

“Very nice,” she smiles innocently back. “How was your walk?”

“Just perfect.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“OK…” Will says, glancing between the two of them. “Does anyone know when Dustin and Lucas are going to show up?”

Game night. Max had almost forgotten, and wishes that she actually did. She doesn’t know how she is supposed to sit through another five hours of monopoly with Dustin’s knowing looks.

“Not sure. We might as well set up,” Mike says.

He grabs Will by the wrist and marches him towards the staircase. Will makes a small sound of surprise and turns to look back at Jane with wide eyes and a faint blush on his cheeks. Max can only hope that Mike remains oblivious to the fact that Will clearly returns Mike’s feelings, at least until she can make her move on Jane.

She turns to Jane, rolling her eyes. “As much as I am not looking forward to watching Mike awkwardly flirt with Will all evening, we should probably follow them.”

Jane nods and walks with Max to the staircase in comfortable silence. When they reach their floor, Max makes to turn right down towards Mike and Will’s shared room, but is stopped by Jane grasping her hand.

“Let’s go back to our room for a bit,” Jane says, already turning away from Max and looking down the corridor on the left.

Max blinks at the back of her head as Jane leads her down to their room. Rooming with Jane has been Max’s favorite part of college, not that she’d ever admit to something so sickeningly sappy. Seeing her wake up, with bedhead and crumpled clothes, watching her stumble towards the bathroom while stretching and yawning, and falling asleep with the image of Jane’s peaceful sleeping face in Max’s mind is all so incredibly endearing that it’s no surprise that she hasn’t dated anyone since Lucas.

She realises that Jane is probably expecting a response. “Oh– yeah, sure,” she says, eloquently.

Jane turns back for a second, and Max notices that the rain has somehow left Jane’s makeup untouched. Her blush still looks as perfectly applied as it does when she swooshes back into the room after her morning shower.

“We need to get dry,” Jane says, although the words sound as though they’re directed more at herself than Max.

Max agrees by nodding her head, not that Jane is looking at her to see. Jane unlocks their door and pushes it open, tugging Max into the room behind her before pushing the door shut again. 

Her hair goes frizzy in the rain, Max notices, and finds her eyes glued to the strands framing Jane’s face. 

Which is closer than Max had initially realised.

Close enough for Max to pick out the glimmers of gold in Jane’s eyes, to examine each individual eyelash, to see the edges of her smudged purple eyeshadow.

Definitely close enough for Max to see the moment that Jane’s eyes dart downwards, almost seeming guilty as she quickly looks back up at Max. 

She watches Jane swallow, her mind spinning. Max has stared at Jane’s lips enough to recognise the movement in somebody else. Why would Jane do that? Maybe Max has something on her face? Or maybe that’s not where she was looking at all.

“Um,” Max breathes, her voice embarrassingly soft, barely louder than a whisper. “You can let go of my hand now.”

That’s definitely what Jane had been looking at just now – their hands, still intertwined for no reason at all – but Max immediately regrets breaking the moment. She should have made the most of the unexpected but welcome closeness while it lasted.

Jane’s eyes go wide as she drops Max’s hand as if it is burning her skin. “Of course,” she says, turning away from Max.

Taking a deep breath, Max turns towards her own half of the room. Unlike Jane’s side, which is clean and decorated in a way that makes it look like a picture that would be used on a mood board, Max’s half looks like a tornado has just torn through the room. Books and clothes are strewn on the floor at the foot of her bed, and the draws are open and overflowing with a rainbow of clothes like an oil spill.

They dress in silence, and Max determinedly stares at the barely visible floor in front of her. The air is heavy with awkwardness, but Max manages to reassure herself with the sure reality that Mike has definitely similarly messed up with Will. 

If he hasn’t… Max grimaces to herself. She cannot accept that she could be worse at romance than Mike Wheeler. She’s heard the horror stories from Jane, and witnessed a few of them herself.

“Ready to go?” Max asks, with a forced cheerfulness. “Dustin and Lucas must be there by now.”

“Yes,” Jane turns and smiles, although it looks a little forced. 

Max’s stomach drops. Hopefully she didn’t make her uncomfortable earlier. Maybe Jane finally noticed the (let’s face it, painfully obvious) staring, and has pieced together what it means.

When they arrive at Mike and Will’s door, it is Lucas who opens the door to them.

“Took you two long enough,” Dustin calls from inside the room, and Max can hear the teasing in his voice.

Lucas raises an eyebrow at her as she enters the room behind Jane, and all she can do is shake her head. God, she is awful at this.

Making her mood worse, Mike and Will are sitting like they do every week for Game Night – that is to say, if they were any closer, Will would be in Mike’s lap. 

Max scoffs as Mike meets her eye over Will’s head and grins smugly. One of these days, she thinks she might actually kill him.

Jane nudges her gently. “Can I join your team again?”

Max smiles – Jane has been out since their first session playing Monopoly (how anyone is supposed to finish this game in one sitting, Max doesn’t know), and has since spent every week leaning her head on Max’s shoulder and whispering advice in her ear. The fact that her advice is usually terrible added with the way Max’s brain seems to go completely blank every time Jane leans close enough for her hair to tickle Max’s cheek makes it a miracle that Max is still hanging on in this game at all.

“Obviously,” Max answers, taking her seat on the faded carpet. The way that Jane beams at her is enough to clear any remnants of her bad mood.

Three hours later, Jane is sitting crossed legged and leaning against the side of Max’s body, left leg pressing into Max’s. How is she expected to focus on the board under these conditions?

“You should bribe him to go after Dustin instead,” she murmurs into Max’s ear, who is locked in a silent staring contest with Mike.

Max refuses to be knocked out by him. However, her desperation is clear by the fact that she actually considers Jane’s words.

“With what money?” Max whispers back. “We’re bankrupt.”

A wad of Monopoly money slides out of Jane’s sleeves and lands in Max’s lap. When Max turns to look at her, eyes wide, Jane simply shrugs and turns back to the board, although Max notices a dot of blood on her sleeve.

Well, Max isn’t above bending the rules a little, especially if it saves her from losing by Mike’s hand.

“I’ll pay you,” she declares, waving the stack towards him. “Make Dustin your target.”

Mike frowns at the money. “Where did that come from?”

“The game? You understand how Monopoly works, don’t you?”

“You didn’t have that a minute ago,” he insists.

“You’re right, Mike. I materialised the money from thin air. Do we have a deal or not?”

“Not!” Dustin jumps in. “She’s bribing you, Mike!”

“Oh, definitely,” Max agrees.

Mike turns suspiciously to Jane. “Did you do something?”

“Do what?” she blinks innocently.

“Will’s the banker. Are you accusing him of letting someone steal money from under his nose?” Max asks. Will takes his role very seriously, although he does make theft very easy with the way that he spends the whole evening staring at the side of Mike’s head. Not that her and Jane make a habit of cheating. Definitely not.

“No! No,” Mike shakes his head. “Yeah, I’ll take the deal.”

“Finally,” Lucas mutters from his spot on the floor. After being knocked out last week, he has spent most of the evening lying on the carpet, seemingly asleep. 

“Mike!” Dustin glares.

“Sorry, man. Unless you have a secret stash somewhere too?”

Dustin points at the girls. “I’m on to you two.”

“Oh, no,” Jane says, straightfaced.

When Dustin finally concedes an hour later, with a lot of muttering under his breath about cheaters, the group ends the game for the week.

“Just you and me left, Wheeler,” Max grins.

“You’re going down,” Mike says. “You have no shot at winning.”

Max only shrugs. “But I have Jane on my team. We might surprise you.”

***

Day two, Max barely sees Jane. By the time Max wakes up (she’s never been an early riser), Jane is already long gone to her morning class, and Max knows her schedule well enough by this point to know there’s no chance of seeing her before lunch.

After sleeping through the morning, Max reaches the cafeteria ten minutes late, breathless, and with unbrushed hair.

“Move, Wheeler,” Max says, elbowing her way into her usual spot at the table.

Mike sighs and moves over to his designated seat.

“Jane’s not here yet?” she asks as she sits down.

“Sorry, Max,” Will says. “You just missed her.”

“Ugh. Why am I here, then? I could still be in bed,” Max sighs, shooting a wistful look in the general direction of the dorms.

Lucas pats her arm. “I’m sure you’ll see her this afternoon.”

“Yeah, I have to go to the library and study,” she grimaces.

“Me too!” Will brightens. “Study date?”

Which is how Max ends up at their usual study table four hours later, gripping onto the sides of her head as she stares uncomprehendingly at the words in her textbook that are now swimming in front of her eyes.

She slams the book closed and rubs her eyes. “That’s it. If I have to read one more page of that thing, I swear to God I will set this library on fire.”

Will laughs, and shuts his art history book much more gently than Max had managed. “I think that might be what finally gets us banned for life.”

“We could just frame Mike, let him take the fall. He’d go along with it, too, if you asked him,” Max says, shooting Will a sideways glance.

“Maybe,” Will blushes.

That’s not a good sign. A few months ago, Will would have categorically denied any suggestion that Mike might treat him in a different way to anyone else. Him admitting to getting special treatment means Mike is one step closer to winning this stupid bet.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Will asks, nudging Max’s foot under the table.

Does he know? Did Mike tell him about the deal? Has Max already lost?

“About what?”

“About Jane,” Will says gently. “You know, I might be a good person to talk to about having complicated feelings for your best friend.”

Looking at Will’s self-deprecating expression, Max begins to feel guilty about the whole situation. If Mike would just hurry up and tell Will the truth, Will wouldn’t still be suffering through what he believes to be one sided love for his ‘straight’ best friend. Maybe Max shouldn’t be rooting against him so hard. 

Or, looking at it another way, she’s encouraging him to finally say something. She likes that interpretation more.

“It’s ok if you’re confused,” Will is saying. “I know it can feel like your whole life is turning upside down. But if you want to talk, I’m here.”

Max considers his words. She has known about her sexuality for a long time – on some level, she’s always been aware that she likes both boys and girls. Being bisexual isn’t something that’s ever really been confusing to her. Being in love with Jane is.

“I guess I’ve never really…come out or anything,” she says slowly. “But I’m pretty sure I’m bisexual.”

“That’s great! I’m really happy for you, Max,” Will smiles, and he looks like he means it.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not like anyone will be surprised. Apparently I’m embarrassingly obvious about it all.”

Will winces. “Maybe a little bit obvious.”

“Do you think she knows?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I think she might actually be confused. Remember when I came out? She told me later that she didn’t even know what being gay was, that she didn’t even know it was an option.”

Max's heart races as an idea begins to form in her head. “Maybe I should come out to her. See how she reacts, help her if she is struggling with her sexuality.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, why not?” Max says, packing her books away. Suddenly, she has to get back to her room, desperate to put her plan in action.

“Just…” Will laughs, “It took me forever to even tell anyone about me, and the thing that held me back the most was Mike. I thought, if I told him, he would immediately understand that I… liked him.”

“Well, if she does work it out, at least I’ll know.” She pushes her chair back and slings her bag over her shoulder. “Thanks, Will,” she says, leaning down and quickly kissing his cheek.

“Bye,” he calls after her as she practically runs out of the building. 

***

Despite her apparent confidence when talking to Will, Max wastes the evening staring wistfully at Jane while they eat their takeout pizza on the floor of their room. Jane’s hair is tied in a messy bun and she is wearing her pyjamas already, despite the fact that light is still shining in through the window. The oversized t-shirt is stained with paint – it must be one of Will’s hand-me-downs – but Jane somehow manages to make it look stylish as she bites into the slice of pepperoni pizza.

“Ouch!” Jane shakes her head from side to side, fanning a hand in front of her mouth.

Max passes her a glass of water. Jane burning her mouth on food that has not yet cooled down is an almost daily occurrence. Even with the Upside Down destroyed and the corrupt government officials that would have tracked her down gone (thanks, Dr Owens), she still eats with an urgency that Max has not seen in anyone else.

After gulping down a few mouthfuls of water, the pain seems to subside and Jane places the glass back down on the floor. “Thanks,” she smiles gratefully at Max.

All thoughts of her coming out plan clear from Max’s mind, which instead starts to fill with daydreams about Jane’s perfect smile. Which leads to Max thinking about her lips, which derails any other thoughts for the rest of the evening.

It’s only when Max is lying in her bed and staring at the outline of Jane’s still form that she remembers what she was supposed to be doing this evening.

Maybe it’s a bad idea. Maybe Jane will think it's weird. Maybe she'll realize that Max likes (loves?) her.

She takes a deep breath. The only way that she’ll win this competition – and Jane’s heart – is if she takes more risks than Mike. This plan is a big risk, and definitely one that he would struggle with.

“Jane?” she whispers, her voice harsh in the silence of the room. 

“Yes?” Jane breathes back.

Max watches her shadow roll over in the dark. They must be staring at each other now, but the streetlight on the road outside their window broke two weeks ago, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. If she focuses, Max can make out the features of Jane’s face, although it’s entirely possible that she’s reconstructing an image of it from all the time she spends thinking about her.

“Are you awake?” Max swallows, and she’s sure Jane must hear it. She must also be able to hear Max’s heartbeat, pounding against her ribcage like it's trying to escape.

“Mhm,” Jane hums softly. “Are you ok?”

“I…um, I wanted to talk to you about something. Something important.” Max feels a little bit like she might throw up. Telling Will had been easy, probably because he basically already knew, but saying the same words to Jane feels like the hardest thing in the world.

Rustling comes from across the room, followed by the padding of feet on the carpet. As Jane draws closer, Max is able to make out more of her in the dark, seeing the slight frown on her face as she sits carefully on the edge of Max’s bed.

“Can I?” she asks, lifting the edge of Max’s duvet.

Sharing a bed isn’t uncommon between the two. When Jane has a nightmare, or Max does, or if they want to stay up late reading Wonder Woman comics, they often huddle under one of their covers and fall asleep pressed close to each other in the same bed. But suddenly, Max isn’t sure if that will still be allowed.

“Maybe–” Max’s hand shoots out, carefully taking the duvet out of Jane’s hands. “I mean, maybe I should say what I have to say first.”

Jane frowns again, but moves her hand back into her own lap. She nods once, waiting.

“So…” Max starts. “The thing is– the thing that I wanted to say is…”

The words feel stuck in her throat, blocking the air from her lungs. She should have planned this out, written the words down maybe, something to help her say something instead of just staring determinedly at her hand clutching her duvet.

“Max,” Jane’s hand hovers over hers for a second, then gently covers it. “It’s OK. You do not have to tell me whatever this is. Not if it’s too hard.”

Max shakes her head slowly. “No, I want to tell you. It’s just– it’s difficult.”

Jane nods again, and slowly begins to rub circles with her thumb on the back of Max’s hand. “You can tell me. You can tell me anything.”

She’s right, Max knows she is. But getting the words out is still a struggle.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m bisexual,” Max says, the words falling quickly from her lips. 

There. She said it. Now she just has to wait for Jane’s reaction.

Jane hums thoughtfully, then gently pushes Max’s hand away and climbs under the covers and lays her head next to Max’s. Their hair on the shared pillow layers over each other’s strands, the fire and gold shining even in the dark. Jane’s hand moves under the sheets, finding Max’s once more and interlacing their fingers.

“I don’t think I know what that means,” Jane says carefully.

Max feels the words brush against her face as Jane speaks, Jane’s breath ghosting over her lips.

“It means that I’m attracted to men and women,” Max says, trying to sound neutral. Like the main recipient of her attraction isn’t currently lying with her in her bed that is really too small even for one person.

The room is silent for a moment, aside from the gentle breathing from both girls. For New York, the night has been unnaturally quiet. Usually Max struggles to sleep with the constant noise of people and cars from the street below.

“How would you know?”

For a second, Max thinks that Jane is doubting her. But in the darkness, Jane’s face is pale, her eyes searching, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

Max’s heart leaps in her chest. She recognises that look in Jane’s eyes – questioning, uncertain, with a glimmer of hope. Like maybe she’s recognized something in Max’s words, something that resonantes within herself.

“I guess… you know that way you felt with Mike?” Max breathes out.

Jane makes a face.

Max laughs. “You know, when you like someone? You want to be with them all the time, and when you’re not with them, you think about them constantly. Maybe you ditch your friends to hang out alone?” she teases, nudging Jane’s foot with her own.

“I…I am not sure I really felt that way with Mike,” Jane whispers after a second. “I think I liked being a normal girl, and I liked feeling like someone cared about me as a person, not as a…” she pauses, searching for the words, “a weapon. But I don’t think I felt the things you are supposed to feel about your boyfriend. It was like I was… acting it out rather than actually feeling it.”

Max squeezes Jane’s hand. “It’s OK, Jane. You had a lot of other stuff going on. Like, you know, saving the world?”

Jane laughs shakily, squeezing Max’s hand back. She rolls onto her back, staring up at the ceiling as she seems to take a deep breath.

“I do not know if I have ever felt that way about any boy,” Jane breathes, her voice hushed.

“Any boy?” Max’s heart jolts. “Have you felt like that about someone who’s not a boy?” She tries to keep her voice even, aware of the silence magnifying any waver or crack in her words.

Jane hesitates. Then, “Yes.”

Max struggles to keep her breathing steady. Jane liking girls doesn’t automatically mean she likes Max back, but it certainly feels like a much closer possibility than it did yesterday.

“Thank you for telling me,” Max says softly.

“I wouldn’t have if you had not told me about you first,” Jane whispers, rolling back over to face Max again. “You are very brave.”

Max opens her mouth to speak, although to say what she isn’t sure, when a car blasting music speeds down the street. The words disappear on her tongue, and Max sighs at the interruption.

“We should have gone to sleep while we had the chance,” Max groans as the shouts of a group of drunk students begin to echo down the street.

“I’m glad we didn’t,” Jane says, so quiet that Max can barely hear her.

“Me too.”

***

When Max wakes the next morning, the other half of her pillow is cold. Strands of brown hair cling to the white cloth, circling a folded piece of lined paper that lies where Jane’s head had last night.

Max jolts upright, lifting the paper and unfolding it with careful hands. 

Had to go to class

See you at lunch x

She smiles as she folds the paper back up and slides it into her psychology textbook. The idea of lunch with Jane will be enough to motivate her through her lecture this morning.

Her lecture this morning.

She turns to look at the clock, praying she hasn’t overslept again.

“Shit!” Max curses, and takes off running towards the showers.

Jane’s promised lunch is missed when Max is held back by her (evil) professor who sternly reminds her that she needs to stop disrupting all of his lectures by rushing in halfway through. The catch up assignment he gives her eats through all of her afternoon and most of the evening, and by the time she finally makes it back to her dorm hours later, Jane is sleeping soundly in her bed. The next few days pass in a similar blur of lectures, assignments, and group projects that Max had totally forgotten about, all doing nothing to improve her grades and everything to keep her away from Jane.

Max trudges along the path towards her room, sighing as the moon lights her way. Its position in the sky above her seems to taunt her with the sure fact that Jane will almost certainly already be fast asleep at this hour.

Lost in thought, she doesn’t notice the figure approaching her before it is too late. She slams into his chest, knocking him down, and grabs onto the closest thing (his head) to keep herself upright.

“Ugh,” a familiar voice comes from below. “Watch where you’re going.”

“Mike?”

“Max?” Mike blinks up at her and quickly jumps up from the ground, brushing dirt from his trousers.

Max opens her mouth, ready to give him a piece of her mind for walking around so carelessly. He almost knocked her over! But something about his appearance makes her pause. 

His hair is tangled and unbrushed – still an improvement on the heavily styled look he tried at the end of school, but not by much. It falls flatly over his eyes, which are aimed downwards, and the corners of his mouth are pointed in the same direction. His ghostly pale skin seems almost translucent in the night, stretched over his pointy bones, aside from the dark circles under his eyes.

All in all, he looks utterly pathetic.

Max feels a little guilty. He may have almost knocked her over, but she actually did push him to the ground. And it was maybe a tiny bit her fault too, for walking around staring at the sky instead of the path ahead.

She sighs. “Are you OK?”

Despite her general disdain for everything about Mike, she can’t help but worry about him. Maybe they clash sometimes (and argue all the time) but he is still her friend.

“I’m fine,” Mike says slowly. “Are you? Did you hit your head or something? Because it almost sounded like you were worried about me.”

“Shut up,” Max mutters. “I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t accidentally killed yourself with your clumsiness.”

“You walked into me!”

Max shrugs. “Well, whatever happened, I better take you back to Will. You know, in case you have a concussion or something.”

“Uh– no, actually, I–” Mike stutters, eyes darting everywhere but Max’s face. He’s blushing, but not in the way he usually does whenever Will’s name is brought up. Instead, he almost looks…

“Did you do something?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please. I mentioned Will’s name and you’re acting like I suggested I take you to Vecna’s lair. What did you do?”

“Why does it have to be my fault?”

“Was it your fault?” Max says, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

Mike sighs. “Maybe.”

Max looks at him for a moment, then grabs him by the arm and drags him over to a bench on the side of the path. The concrete is cold, the night air turning it to ice that creeps through her jeans as she sits down and gestures for Mike to do the same.

“Tell me what you did,” Max says. “I’ll help you fix it.”

Mike snorts. “Sure you will. Have you forgotten about our little competition?”

“I haven’t forgotten. But you and Will are my friends, and you’re both clearly miserable. I’d have to be a total bitch to let you ruin your chance with him and do nothing.”

At Mike’s raised eyebrow, she kicks at his foot, although with less force behind it than usual.

“Will you just sit down?” she sighs.

He flops into the seat beside her, leaning back and staring up at the sky. “You’re going to laugh at me.”

“I always laugh at you. Out with it.”

“I… I think he thinks I’m homophobic.”

Max laughs. “Are you kidding?”

“It’s not funny! He was going on and on about Carlton, and I just don’t like the guy, OK? So he’s talking about him, about their art classes and gallery visits, and I guess I’m not doing a very good job at hiding it, because suddenly he asks me ‘What’s your problem?’. And I don’t know what to say, and everything comes out wrong when I try and explain, and—”

“I get it, Mike,” Max interrupts. “You were acting like a jealous asshole.”

Mike crosses his arms but doesn’t fight the accusation.

“And Will doesn’t know that you like him, so he just thinks you’re being a jerk,” she continues.

Mike tilts his head in acknowledgement.

“Because he likes you, he’s scared that you’ll find out about his feelings and be disgusted, so he projects that onto your weird behaviour.”

Mike groans, rubbing his hands over his face. “So what do I do?”

“You could always just tell him how you feel,” Max says, gently poking him in the arm. “You know he’s been in love with you for years.”

“I don’t know…” Mike trails off. “I mean, I’ve been so shitty to him so many times. What if he’s realized that he deserves better? I wouldn’t blame him.”

“You know, Wheeler, your level of stupidity surprises me more everyday. He’s in love with you! Tell him before he eventually forces himself to move on.”

“But…”

“No. No more excuses,” Max says, shaking her head. She really did want to win the stupid deal, but if she has to listen to Mike pining for Will for a day more, she might finally actually kill him. Which would probably disqualify her from the bet anyway.

“Fine,” Mike closes his eyes. “You win. I’ll tell him.”

“See?” Max smiles. “What would you do without me?”

“Probably have a lot less bruises,” he says, but he’s smiling. “OK, well, can’t I help you with El? I was her boyfriend, so I must’ve done something right.”

Max laughs, remembering Jane’s confession of her total lack of real feelings towards Mike during those years.

“Hey, don’t…” Mike tries to look offended, but fails. He starts to laugh too, and Max grabs on to his arm as her own laughter becomes increasingly hysterical.

They nearly slide off of the bench, grabbing onto each other to stay upright as the laughter takes over, shaking through their bodies and squeezing tears out of their eyes. Max opens her mouth to speak, but the sight of Mike’s red, tear-streaked face sets her off again, and it’s another few minutes before she can catch her breath enough to try again.

“Stop,” she wheezes. “I’m going to piss myself.”

Mike gasps for air. “Don’t–” he struggles to push her away while also holding onto her for support.

“Could you fucking shut up?” A voice calls down from above, the window slamming shut as if to emphasise his point.

Max manages to fight off the silent laughter still shaking through her body as she clambers to her feet, offering Mike a hand. He takes it, still desperately suppressing his wild giggles, and wavers dangerously when he stands on his own two feet.

“Be careful,” Max chides. “I can’t have you hitting your head and forgetting my amazing advice.”

Mike rolls his eyes.

The two climb the stairs to their respective dorm rooms in struggling silence, trying to avoid meeting each other's eyes in case that sets off another unstoppable fit of laughter. When they reach their corridor, Mike nods goodbye to Max then turns and walks to his door with a determined glint in his eye.

“Good luck,” she whispers after him, and is pleased to find that she really does mean it.

***

Max’s good deed must have earned her some positive karma with the universe, because when she wakes up the next day, Jane is perched in front of her bed holding a cup of coffee. 

“Ah!” Max startles, sitting up with a jolt.

“Hello,” Jane smiles, as if it's the most normal thing in the world to wake a friend up with your face inches from theirs. “I made you coffee.”

Max takes the chipped mug gratefully, swallowing a mouthful before remembering that making coffee is one ‘normal people’ skill that Jane has never been able to master. She manages to avoid a visible grimace as the bitter taste coats her mouth.

Jane is watching her carefully. “Is it good? I can try again if–”

“No! No, it’s great, Jane,” Max lies, and forces another mouthful of the liquid down her throat. “Yum.”

“So what’s this about?” Max asks after struggling through half of the mug under Jane’s close inspection.

“You have been very busy this week. I thought we could do something together today.”

Max’s heart flutters in her chest. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good,” Jane smiles. “You have ten minutes to get ready, then we have to leave if we want to make it there before lunch.”

Max suddenly becomes aware of the tangled mess that is her hair and her morning breath that Jane has definitely been able to smell with how close she is sitting. She silently prays that the overpowering smell of coffee has been able to mask it as she grabs her toothbrush and heads for the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, Max is being dragged out of the building by Jane, who is holding tightly on to her hand as if she thinks Max might try to escape.

“Where are we going again?” Max asks as Jane marches them down the street.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you,” she answers, then tugs Max down an alleyway. “This way is quicker.”

When Jane pulls her down to a subway station and hurries her into the train just before the doors close, Max still has no clue where they're headed. Although they’ve all been living in New York for a few months, Max still struggles with the subway system, and wonders how Jane seems to so easily make sense of all the different routes.

“This one,” Jane commands as the train jolts to a stop, pulling Max out of the doors and hurrying them both up the stairs and onto the street before they are enveloped in the rush of people getting on and off at their stop.

“Where are we?” Max frowns, wondering if she should have tried to explore the city more in these past months.

Jane is seemingly deaf to Max’s questions, instead leading her down a maze of streets before stepping around a corner and gesturing to the bright painted billboard on the building behind.

Max grins. “We’re going to the mall?”

“We’re going to the mall!” Jane confirms, excitement clear on her face. She pauses for a moment, then shoots a worried look at Max. “Is that ok? I didn’t think about–”

“It’s fine,” Max grabs ahold of Jane’s hand again. “It’s not Starcourt.”

Max knows that her friends still worry about her, sees the concern on their faces whenever she sleeps or eats less than usual. She can’t blame them – she knows that her period of depression after Billy’s death had been hard for the party, and that the hardest part for them had been her shutting them out. 

Jane seems to remember Max’s promise to be honest with them (at least about that), and she smiles once more. Her bracelets slide down her arm in a twinkling swirl of silver as she brushes a strand of hair from her face, the sun reflecting off of the crystal charm on one and projecting a rainbow over her face for a split second before her arm is back at her side.

“Let’s find something to eat,” Max says, leading them towards the mall’s entrance, Jane’s hand warm in her own.

After lunch, Jane slots her hand into Max’s like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The way their fingers interlace makes Max think that maybe it is, the weight and warmth of them sliding perfectly together.

“In here,” Jane says, pulling gently.

They walk through the arched entrance, stepping into a shop that looks way too fancy for Max’s budget. The marble floor glistens; it must be getting cleaned far more often than the rest of the mall, where the floors are dull and sticky instead of ice smooth. Her battered sneakers look out of place against the bright white, and the thought is clearly shared by the sales clerk who eyes Max up and down with a sneer.

Jane walks over to the racks of carefully displayed clothes and begins rummaging through the selection, steadily ignoring the staff’s increasingly horrified looks. 

“I think I shall try this on,” she declares, speaking in a poor attempt at a British accent, and lifting a floor length dress from the wall.

Max laughs, grabbing the nearest hanger and waving around what happens to be a black suit jacket. She thinks her accent is slightly better as she too declares that she just must try this on at once, darling. 

“But ma’am!” the clerk interjects, looking pained to have to address Max this way. “That is a man’s jacket!”

“But of course! That is how we do it in England.” Max has no clue what they do in England, and it's clear that her accent isn’t fooling anyone, but luckily the woman’s professionalism outweighs her obvious distaste for Max and Jane as customers, and she steps aside, letting them walk past to the changing rooms.

“Ta-da!” Jane swooshes out from behind the curtain five minutes later, wearing the silver dress.

The dress clings to her body, the silk material sliding over her skin and pooling on the marble floor at her feet. She looks like a statue, a painting or sculpture of some kind of ancient love deity, the kind of goddess whose beauty cannot be captured by human artists. The plunging neckline makes Max dizzy, and the tarnished silver of Jane’s matching heart necklace is framed in the centre like a promise.

Max probably needs to say something.

“You look beautiful,” she blurts out, then blushes hard.

“Thank you,” Jane beams.

Max doesn’t think she’s imagining the blush that rises in Jane’s cheeks, dusting her face in pink.

She steps closer unthinkingly, involuntarily, but Jane doesn’t look disgusted.

Max watches as Jane’s eyes dart towards Max’s lips, just like that night in their dorm a week ago, the subtle movement that Max knew she didn’t imagine. If Max stepped a little closer, if she pressed their lips together, would Jane mind? Would she like it?

A pointed cough breaks her daze, and Max steps backwards, turning towards the sound. The clerk is smiling insincerely at Jane.

“That dress suits you wonderfully. It may be a bit long, however. We offer alterations in store if–”

“No! It’s… not my style,” Jane says, forcing a smile, moment broken and fake accent forgotten.

The clerk sighs.

They spend the rest of the afternoon exploring the mall, trying on clothes and taking free food samples as they wander. Max feels like their fourteen again, except this time, she and Jane spend the day with their fingers firmly interlocked.

Jane gasps as they ascend an escalator and find a rainbow-colored shop standing at the top. Warm lighting glows from behind the windows, and bright clothes fill the shelves, welcoming them in.

“C’mon,” Max grins. Jane’s style has changed a little since they were kids, but she is still drawn to brightly-colored and patterned fabrics, something which she incorporates heavily into her fashion projects. Luckily, her professor seems to share her love for all things rainbow.

“Oh!” Jane exclaims as they enter the store. “Wow!”

Max laughs at her awestruck expression. “Seen something you like?”

“Everything,” Jane answers as she runs her hands over the clothes. 

Half an hour later, Jane disappears into the changing room with a pile of clothes in her arms. She emerges every few minutes in a different outfit, and each one makes Max think that Jane couldn’t look any better than she does in that moment. She continues to be proved wrong each time the curtain is pulled back and a new version of Jane steps out, shining in a rainbow of color.

“Your turn,” Jane commands as she steps out of the curtain one final time, back in her own clothes.

“Oh– I haven’t picked out anything,” Max shakes her head.

“I did,” Jane shrugs, stuffing a heap of clothes into Max’s hands and practically shoving her into the changing room.

“Yes!” she claps when Max walks out wearing a combination of the clothes Jane had chosen for her. “You look so good!”

Max smiles, turning to look at herself in the mirror. She has to admit it, Jane has a talent for fashion that Max doesn’t really understand. Somehow, a pile of clothes that at first glance look like a mismatch of clashing colors and loud patterns is able to form a flattering outfit when worn.

“You really think so?” Max asks, meeting Jane’s eyes in the mirror.

“Of course. Come on,” Jane pulls Max towards her and gently pushes her back into the cubicle. “You need to take them off so we can buy them.”

“I don’t know, Jane, I really can’t afford–”

“I am buying them. For you.”

“What? No, they’re too expensive. I can’t let you do that.”

“You are not ‘letting me’. I am buying them anyway,” Jane says, sounding firm. “It’s my money, I can spend it however I want.”

“But–”

“I am sure you’ve spent more on me, anyway. You’re always paying for my food and drinks and necklaces.” She lifts the silver chain from her neck as she says this, holding the heart pendant out for Max to see.

Max can’t think of a response. She can’t think, period. Jane’s fiery insistence on doing this for her warms her heart in a way that she can’t explain, and although a part of Max still wants to fight against letting Jane spend her money on Max, she knows it’s a lost battle.

As Jane happily takes the bag of clothes from Max’s hand and skips over to the cashier, Max is left staring after her, the gears slowly turning in her head. Jane is always kind to everyone – she’s the most caring person Max has ever met – but today has been extreme, even for her. Waking her up with coffee, planning this trip to the mall, buying her clothes… 

Was this a date?

No, Max tells herself, she’s just being nice. She’s your best friend, and she’s missed hanging out with you. That’s all.

But, while Jane has always been physically affectionate with Max, never afraid to greet her with a hug or brush a hand through Max’s hair to untangle it, she’s never before spent the entire day with her hand in Max’s. That’s something people only do on dates, right?

Jane taps Max on the shoulder. “Ready to go?” she asks, smiling brightly.

“Yeah,” Max says, shaking herself internally. “Let me–”

Max reaches for the bag in Jane’s hand, but she jumps back out of reach.

“Nope,” she shakes her head, hair cascading over her shoulders in waves of honey. “I’m carrying it.”

Max blushes. Now she can’t help but see everything through a lens of romance, and the thought bounces around her skull during the walk out of the mall. Maybe she should just ask her. But if she’s wrong, she could ruin everything.

The subway is crowded when they finally cram themselves into the train, and Max is still struggling to add anything to the conversation apart from occasional hums of agreement. What should she do? Does she need to do anything? Maybe she can just pretend this is all normal ‘gal pal’ behaviour.

At the next stop, another surge of New Yorkers slot their way into the carriage, pushing Jane close against Max, causing electricity to surge through Max’s arm at the sudden contact. Jane is holding on to the hanging straps from the ceiling with one hand, while the other clasps the straps of Max’s clothes bag, and carefully leaning towards her.

They stare at each other, unmoving. Jane is slightly taller than Max, so she has to tilt her head slightly to meet Jane’s eyes, which are dark as she stares back at Max with a similar intensity.

A man pushes into Jane as he gets off the train just in time before the doors close, causing her to stumble. Max grabs onto her, hands clenched in the fabric of her shirt at her waist.

“Um,” she says, sounding breathless. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jane answers in almost a whisper. 

“I–” 

The train jolts to life, causing Max to sway in place and grab on tighter to Jane for support. Her hands slide around Jane’s waist and she holds on tight and the train continues its uneven pace down the tracks.

“Sorry,” she breathes.

“It’s okay.” A pause. “I like it.”

Then Jane’s eyes slip from Max’s face and dart to the station the subway is now pulling in at.

“Oh! Quick, we need to get off,” she says urgently, tugging Max’s hand into her own. They push through the crowd of bodies with hurried apologies from Jane and glares from Max until they step out onto the platform in time before the doors slam shut behind them.

“That was close,” Max says, relieved. She really doesn’t know where they would have ended up if they’d missed this stop, or how they would’ve gotten home from there.

Jane nods in agreement. “Yes. We would have missed Game Night.”

“That’s today?” Max curses. Great. She hasn’t seen Will or Mike since last night, but now she’s going to have to deal with them flaunting their requited feelings in her face while she still can’t say anything to Jane.

“You always forget,” Jane shakes her head, fondness clear in her voice.

Well… maybe she still has time.

Max turns to her, determined, and leads her out of the subway station. As much as she’s grown to love New York (the parts she’s seen, anyway), she refuses to make her confession in the middle of a filthy subway station.

Her heart beats wildly as they walk out onto the street. It’s dark out – the worst part of winter is the lack of sunlight – and as they move further from the station and onto familiar streets, the city seems to fall silent. They are the only two people walking along the sidewalk, and, to Max, it feels like they are the only two people left in the world.

“What is it?” Jane says when Max stops under a streetlight.

Jane stands in front of her, the light beams down on her hair like a halo, highlighting the golden strands. All the different versions of her that Max has known flash through her mind – Jane walking into that cabin with her hair slicked back and a wild look in her eyes the first time she saw her; Jane asking for her help, nervously holding her skateboard; Jane dumping Mike at the mall and laughing on the bus ride back; Jane with her hair buzzed shorter than Max had ever seen it before, protecting her from Vecna. Every time, Max couldn’t help but think of her as beautiful, even before she understood what it meant to be a girl who felt that way about other girls.

Standing before her now, Jane is as beautiful as ever.

Max makes a decision.

“I really like you,” Max says breathlessly. “Or, I’m in love with you. I don’t know, maybe it’s too much too soon, and maybe you don’t even like me back, but–”

In one swift movement, Jane’s hands cup Max’s face and she presses her lips to Max’s, the streetlight shining down on them like a spotlight. 

Max’s hands settle on Jane’s waist, a mirror of the subway, and she steps closer, tilting her head up towards Jane. It’s better than anything she could’ve ever imagined, and she wonders why she ever wasted her time fantasising about this when she could’ve had the real thing all this time.

Jane’s lips are soft against her own, and her hair is silky smooth when Max lifts a shaking hand to brush through it. She could stay in this moment forever, pressed against Jane in the middle of a random street in New York, discovering softness of Jane’s mouth and hair and skin, fireworks exploding in her body with every exploration.

She pushes closer, unwilling to let this end, when cheering rains down from above.

“Go, Max!” Dustin’s familiar voice yells.

They break apart, both turning their heads upwards to look for the source of the sound.

“Over here!” Will calls, and he waves out of a window on the third floor of the building across the street.

Guess the street wasn’t as random as I thought, Max thinks as she recognizes the potted plant in the window of the room a few windows across as her and Jane’s.

Lucas’s head pops out of the window besides Will. “You better get up here before Mike decides to count your lateness as his victory.”

Mike’s voice calls distantly from inside the room, and Will laughs gently before repeating it down to the girls. “He says, ‘not just in Monopoly’.”

“He actually did it?” Max laughs, feeling lighter than she has in months. No more secrets for her or Mike. When was the last time they were both so free?

“Don’t sound so surprised!” Mike shouts, pushing Lucas aside and leaning out the window next to Will. “At least I didn’t let it interfere with Game Night!”

“I’m still gonna win, Wheeler,” Max calls, then turns back to Jane. “You’re still on my team, right?”

Jane leans forwards, smiling. “Always.”

***

“So, we lost to Mike?” Jane confirms, head on Max’s shoulder and arms wrapped around her middle under the covers.

“We won monopoly,” Max reminds her. “That’s way more important!”

Jane shoots her an unimpressed look. “Monopoly is more important than me?”

“No! That’s not what I–”

Jane presses her smile against the side of Max’s neck, silent laughter shaking the bed.

“I just mean that at least we won on something that requires actual skill, you know? I mean, Mike was completely useless without me. You should’ve seen him last night, he was totally pathetic, no clue what to do about Will until I told him.”

“I understand. Mike sucks and you are amazing,” Jane mumbles against her throat.

“Well, don’t say it like it’s not true,” Max says, teasing.

“You are amazing,” Jane repeats softly, pressing a kiss to Max’s cheek.

Max blushes. Will Jane ever stop having that affect on her? 

“You’ll have to let me pay for my own drinks, though. Since you’ll be paying for Mike’s.”

“No chance,” Max grins.

Jane laughs, and Max feels it reverberate through her body. She would stay here for the rest of her life, if she could.

“I love you,” Jane whispers softly. “I didn’t get the chance to say it earlier.”

“I love you too,” Max says into Jane’s hair.