16

THEN

Maxie peered, breathlessly, out into the audience as they rose to their feet and roared their approval. She'd just concluded her first ever solo, and her heart was racing. The lights on the stage were bright, so she couldn't see past the first two rows of the dark audience, but she imagined her family out there somewhere, watching her proudly. If only her mother could be among them.

After giving one last bow of her own, the rest of her classmates and fellow dancers joined her on the stage for another. All of them patted her on the back or gave her quick praises as they passed. Brilliant. Amazing. Angelic. She beamed. All the practice and hard work she'd put in to prepare for the show finally paid off.

Back stage, Maxie gathered her belongings and made her way to the lobby to meet her family. The building was swarming with people: dancers, families, critics, photographers. She searched the many faces for a familiar one. With no luck, she reached for her phone.

Five missed calls. Two text messages. A voicemail.

"Maxie, it's Mom," Kathy said in her message. "You're going to kill me. I'm not going to be able to make your show today. Car's stalling again, I don't think I should drive it all the way to Manhattan. Good luck, though! I know you don't need it. You'll be great. Break a leg!"

Rolling her eyes, Maxie checked her text messages next. Both from Van. RUNNING LATE. BE THERE SOON, the first one read. And then the next: STILL AT WORK, I'M NOT GOING TO MAKE IT IN TIME. SO SORRY, I PROMISE I'LL BE AT THE NEXT ONE.

Annoyed, she put her phone in her purse. Was she surprised? Kathy hadn't been to a show in two years. And Van? Van caught them when she could. They weren't a priority to her. Maxie shouldn't have been surprised. She wasn't.

But it was her first solo. She had been hoping her family would try a little harder in light of that.

"Maxie!" her instructor called out, stealing her attention. She turned to face the woman who hadn't stopped smiling since the show's first standing ovation after the first half. "You were beautiful out there," she said. "Giving you that solo was the best decision I've made, thus far."

"Thank you," Maxie said, nodding. However, she no longer cared to be praised. No one that mattered saw the show, anyway. She just wanted to leave.

"Remember Markus Ramsey? The choreographer I was telling you about?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Well, he was in the audience. This could mean big things for you, honey. Maybe you should wait and meet him?"

She didn't want to meet him. "Actually, I'm meeting my family," she lied. "They're taking me out to dinner, so I should really go."

Her teacher frowned. "Maxie, honey, it's Markus Ramsey. I'm sure your family will understand if you're late."

Sighing, Maxie pulled on her sweater and followed her teacher to where Markus Ramsey stood, surrounded by three other dancers.

"Mr. Ramsey," she said, gently pushing Maxie forward. "This is Maximilienne, the one we talked about."

Mr. Ramsey stepped forward. "Maximilienne," he said, offering his hand for her to shake. "Finally, I get a chance to meet you. That performance was absolutely flawless."

"Thank you, sir."

"Call me Markus," he said. "I'd love to talk more about your dancing, and possibly an opportunity to dance with my team..."

He was still talking, but Maxie had stopped listening. Across the room, holding a bouquet of flowers, was Isaac.

She inhaled as the butterflies in her stomach took flight. Kathy had missed her show. Van had missed her show. Alex had certainly missed her show. But Isaac was there. And with flowers.

"That sounds great, Markus," Maxie interjected, patting his hand. "Maybe we can discuss it later?" Without waiting for a reply, she pulled away, throwing him an, "I'll call you," before hurrying to meet Isaac.

He looked as handsome as ever, dressed a bit formally for the occasion, smiling as she approached. He stood out like a sore thumb in the wide hall of people. Taller and bigger and a million times handsomer than everyone else in the crowd. Maxie couldn't help but notice how all eyes fell on him as he passed, making his way toward her. She could barely breathe as he halted just in front of her, the smile she wore remained as wide as ever and frozen in place.

"Hi," she said, looking up at him.

"Hi," he replied, handing her the flowers. "These are for you."

She took them and buried her face in them so he wouldn't see her cheeks flame red. "I didn't know you were coming," she said.

He placed his hand on the small of her back and prodded her toward the door. "I couldn't miss your first solo," he replied. "You were stunning, by the way."

"Thank you. I was so nervous. Could you tell?"

"Not at all. That first guy you danced with looked a little nervous, though."

She chuckled. "Avery? No, Avery's a great dancer."

"I was a little jealous when he touched your butt."

She looked up at him, wide-eyed. "He didn't touch my butt!" she cried.

"Yeah, he did. When he picked you up."

She laughed and playful shoved him. Of course, he didn't even move. "He didn't touch my butt. He was lifting me."

Leaning close to her, Isaac pulled her tightly against him. "I want to lift you."

 

"I got to meet the choreographer that's been asking about me," Maxie told Isaac as they walked slowly back to the apartment. It was over fifty blocks, but Maxie could have walked from one end of the city to the other as long as Isaac walked with her. "He really enjoyed the show. He wants to talk to me about job opportunities or something."

He chuckled. "Or something? Isn't that a pretty big deal?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"Can I give you my opinion?" She looked up at him, nodded. "You're one of the most beautiful, talented dancers I've ever seen. One of the best on that stage tonight, for sure. But I know you, Maxie. I know your heart's not in it. The look on your face when you're dancing and the look on your face when someone tastes a recipe you've just come up with are two very different looks."

"My future has pretty much already been handed to me on a silver platter if I keep dancing. What would everyone say if I just gave it up? And to cook."

"Tell everyone they can go dance if they like it so much."

She chuckled. "I've worked really hard for this."

"It doesn't make you happy."

"Yeah, it does," she said, half-heartedly.

Isaac nodded. "Alright, then. If you're happy. You, Max. Not Kathy or Van or anybody else."

She looked up at him again and smiled. "What about you?"

"Me? I'm happy when you're happy."

How does that work? she wanted to ask. Because I'm happy when you're happy.

Back at the apartment, Van flung herself in Isaac's arms. Maxie looked away as she hugged him and kissed him endlessly.

When she finally pulled away to greet Maxie, maybe ask about her show, maybe apologize for missing yet another one, Maxie was already across the room, closing herself in her bedroom with no plans of coming back out.

"Vinegar and lemon juice," Maxie heard Van say from the living room. They were lounging on the couch, Isaac reading his favorite novel, Van flipping through a magazine. Both of them awaiting dinner. "It says here you should wash your hair with that. It makes it shiny or something. What do you think of that?"

"I think your hair would smell like lemon vinegar," Isaac replied not looking up from his book. Maxie smiled from the kitchen.

Considering it for a moment, Van shrugged and flipped to the next page. "O-oh, a quiz!" she squealed. " 'Are You Meant To Be?' Come on, babe, let's take this."

To Maxie's immense relief, the doorbell sounded before Isaac could reply. "Ugh, who could that be?" Van asked, tossing the magazine down. Whoever it was, Maxie was grateful to them. Until Van opened the door, and she realized it was Alex.

She hadn't spoken to him since the morning of her show days before. He'd missed it without even a word, and he hadn't even had the decency to call and apologize afterward. Yet, there he was, in her living room. And drunk.

He walked steady enough and said nothing, but Maxie could spot the telltale redness of his eyes, and the stench of alcohol on his skin was unmistakable. He grinned as he met her in the kitchen. "Hey," he said, dropping a kiss on her temple.

"Hi," she replied, giving him a once over. He wavered a bit as he stood there staring down at her, paling under the effort to keep his composure. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I came by to see you."

"Why?"

His brows furrowed. "Do I need a reason to visit my girlfriend?"

She glanced at the clock. "Well, you don't show up when you say you will, so I'm just wondering why you would bother showing up now?"

His grin faded and he dropped his eyes. "I'm sorry I missed your show. I was working."

"Why didn't you call?"

"I'm sorry, Max, it just slipped my mind," he snapped. Nodding, she turned away from him. With a sigh, he placed his hands on her shoulders and rested his head in the curve of her neck. "Look, I'm here now. Don't be upset with me. Let's go in your room and lay down for a while."

"I can't," she replied, shaking him off of her. "I'm cooking."

"You're always cooking."

She didn't reply.

"C'mon, Max. Come in your room," he insisted, tugging at her shirt. "I've missed you. I've been thinking about you all night." His hands went around her waist, his fingers crept up her shirt.

"Alex!" she said sharply, shoving his hand away. Was Isaac watching them? she wondered. Did he see Alex's insistent gropes? She felt her face redden at the mere thought. "Stop it," she said, lowering her voice. But he wouldn't. His hands were on her again, stroking and caressing her, pulling her back against him. He lowered his mouth to her neck and kissed the skin behind her ear.

After a moment of vain resistance, she finally shoved him back violently. Her eyes widened as he stumbled back, catching himself on the table. "What the fuck, Max?" he lashed out. "What's your problem?"

She shook her head. She could feel Van and Isaac's eyes on her. "Listen," she said. She spoke low, hoping the living room's occupants wouldn't overhear her. "Why don't you just leave, alright? Sober up, call me in the morning."

"Why? I want to be with you now," he said reaching for her again, but she stepped back. "What, now I can't touch you at all?" He laughed a thin laugh.

"Just leave," she repeated.

On the couch, Isaac moved to intervene but Van stopped him. "Mind your business," she whispered.

He glared at her. "Are you joking? She wants him to leave."

Van shook her head. "Don't get involved. You're going to get involved, and all she's going to do is take him back when she gets bored. Don't get involved."

"Can we just talk?" Alex said. "I know you're mad at me for missing your little show. I'm sorry, alright? Let's just go in your room and talk about it."

Maxie almost considered it. She would have gone anywhere with him if it meant Isaac didn't have to witness it. But she knew how volatile Alex could get when he drank, like a ticking time bomb that she wasn't sure she was capable of defusing.

"I already told you, I'm in the middle of making dinner. Please, Alex. Just go. You're drunk."

"I'm fine!" he insisted. "I had a few beers, I'm fine."

She rolled her eyes. This wasn't the result of a few beers. She knew it was no use arguing with him about it, though.

"If you just come in your room with me—"

"No, Alex, I'm cooking—"

"You're always fucking cooking!" he exploded, snatching the entire pot of boiling spaghetti sauce off of the stove and heaving at the ground. Maxie shrieked as the pot hit the floor, the sauce splashing up at her bare legs.

"Maxie!" Van cried as she stumbled back into the cabinet and crumbled to the floor.

Before she could even comprehend her burning skin, Isaac was out of his seat. He thrust himself in Alex's path as Alex reached for Maxie again. "Leave," he said, his voice surprisingly calm. "Right now. Walk out the fucking door."

Alex glared at him. "This is between me and my girl." His voice was much lower now. He was indeed prideful, but not stupid.

"This is over," Isaac said. "Leave."

"Isaac," Maxie said, but Isaac raised his hand to hush her without even turning around.

"Isaac, baby, just calm down," Van said.

"You calm down," he snapped, glaring at her. "Go back in the living room, read your goddamn magazine, and pretend he isn't in here harassing her if you want to, Van, but I'm not going to do that." He turned back to Alex. "I'm going to say it one more time before I'm a lot less calm. Leave."

Alex's jaw was tight, his hands were in fists, his chest was inflated, but he took a step backward. Shooting one last glance at Maxie, he turned and walked out of the apartment. No one moved until the front door opened and shut again, and then Isaac turned to Maxie.

At once, his body relaxed, his eyes softened. "Are you alright?" he asked, kneeling before her. From her knees to her feet were covered in bright red tomato sauce.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice barely audible. Isaac grabbed a nearby towel and Maxie cringed as he gently cleaned the sauce from her burned skin.

"Maxie," Van said, going to her. "Are you hurt?"

"Stop," Isaac said. "Don't be concerned now. Now he's gone."

Van gasped. "I was concerned!" she cried. "But he always gets like that, and Maxie always takes it! When am I supposed to stop offering help that she obviously doesn't want?"

"Never," he said. Glaring at him, Van huffed and stalked off to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Not even acknowledging her exit, Isaac scooped Maxie up in his arms and raised her to the counter to continue washing her legs with soap and water. When they were clean of the sauce, he carefully rubbed ointment on the large, red blotches. "It's not so bad. How do they feel?" he asked. Though he spoke softly and touched her gently, she could still see the sparks of rage flashing in his eyes.

"Not so bad," she replied. "Hey." He met her gaze and for a moment, she simply held it. "I'm fine."

Stepping forward to position himself just between her legs, he lowered his face to hers.

Slowly, he kissed her, with urgency and with need. He held her firmly against his body, his fingers entwined themselves in her hair, he took in more of her, inhaled her. Finally. At last. He felt as if he were getting a hit of a drug he hadn't even known he was withdrawing from. And now he was injecting it, directly into his blood stream. Injecting her. His hands roamed her small frame, wanting to touch every inch of her softness, wanting to commit the feel of it all to his memory. The feel of her, the smell of her, the taste of her. All of it.

Had Maxie not been propped up on the counter, she was sure she would have sank to the floor. His lips on her... so full and smooth and soft, his tongue probing, his low sighs of, what? Relief? Where was Van? What if she saw them? In that moment, it didn't matter. Maxie couldn't think straight, she couldn't breathe, but she would have preferred to suffocate there in his kiss before pulling back for air.

When he finally let her go, they were both breathless, speechless.

He stared down into her eyes, so full, and at her lips, so moist, and at her heaving chest. He wanted her so badly. Right there in the kitchen, on the counter, next to the hot stove. He needed to step back, get away from her for a moment, if just to get his thoughts in order, but he couldn't bring himself to take his hands off of her. Not after waiting so long to get them there.

"Isaac," she finally whispered. She raised her fingers to her lips, lowered her eyes. "We can't..." She shook her head slowly, realization slowly beginning to sink in. "We have to stop. We can't do this."

"Maximilienne," he said, gently. "We can't not do this."

It was nearly eleven PM when Isaac showed up at the door of Alex's condo. He knocked calmly enough. No need to startle the man before he even got inside. Alex opened up without even asking who it was—maybe he was expecting someone else. Whatever the reason, Isaac was glad he didn't have to kick the door in as he'd planned.

"Isaac, what are you—"

Isaac shoved him violently, stepping inside of the condo and shutting the door behind him.

"What the fuck?" Alex cried, and Isaac delivered a swift blow right to his mouth. Softly, he thought, but Alex's whole head jolted, and he went stumbling backward before falling to the floor. Isaac barely saw the blood fill the inside of Alex's mouth before he'd cupped his hands over it in horror.

Alex used his feet to push himself back as Isaac reached for him again, pulling him up by his shirt and slamming him hard into the wall behind them.

"Listen carefully," he said, leaning so impossibly close to Alex's face that he could smell the metallic odor of his blood. "If you ever, ever hurt her again, I will come back here and you will have a big fucking problem. Do you understand?"

Panting, Alex nodded.

"I will break your fingers, you little prick. I will break them off. You'll never take another picture in your pathetic fucking life. Don't fuck with me."

He pulled Alex forward and shoved him back one more time before letting him go and turning toward the door. He was sure Alex got the point, but he slapped a couple of pictures off of the walls on his way out, anyway, just in case.

 

NOW

Gnar, Isaac, and Bea and her date, Gavin, all sat in the living room of the apartment, waiting for Maxie and Van to emerge from Van's bedroom.

"What the hell is taking so long?" Bea demanded, glancing at the time. It was already six-thirty. "Our reservation is at seven."

"We probably should have told Van it was at six," Isaac said.

Rolling her eyes, Bea said, "I don't know how you deal with this on the daily basis."

Isaac opened his mouth to reply, but before he could Van's door opened and out stepped Maxie. Both Gnar and Isaac stood, their mouths falling slightly open at the sight of her. Dressed in leather pants that clung to her figure, with a sheer blouse that revealed her lacy bra, and sharp stiletto heels, it was almost like someone had sucked all of the air out of the room when she stepped into it. Her hair was pulled back off her face and she wore a bit of makeup. "I'm ready," she said, completely naïve to the weight of her presence. She stopped short when she noticed the two men staring at her.

"What?" she asked.

Gnar smiled and stepped forward. "You look beautiful."

Flushing red, she looked down at herself. "Thank you," she said, shifting modestly.

"I'm sure you would look stunning in a paper bag," he said, placing his hands on her hips. His grin never faded, his eyes danced over every inch of her.

And all she could see was Isaac. His eyes dancing over every inch of her.

"Alright," Van announced, sashaying out of the room next. "We can go now."

Gnar's attention remained on Maxie, but as soon as Van appeared, she instantly lost Isaac's. The corners of his lips turned up into a small smile, his eyes swelled with pride.

"How do I look?" she asked, spinning around so everyone in the room could get a three-sixty view of one of the tiny dresses she was infamous for. It fit her like a glove.

Isaac seemed drawn to her. His hands fell around her waist, he lowered his mouth to hers, but she quickly turned away.

"Don't smear my lipstick, babe," she said with a laugh.

Maxie watched as he kissed her, anyway. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned away. It was going to be a long night.

 

The group arrived at the lounge just in time for their reservation and was seated in a quiet corner booth.

"This is perfect," Van said, sitting down. "Maybe we should just order a bottle of wine to start?"

"I like white," Bea said.

"White for me, as well," agreed Gavin.

"How about you guys?" Van asked, looking to Gnar and Maxie.

"White works for me," Gnar said.

"I'll probably just get a glass of red," said Maxie.

"I will, too," said Isaac.

The waitress returned with their wine and Maxie swallowed hers down at record-breaking speed, quickly ordering another one. Bea glared at her over the rim of her glass.

"So," Gavin said. "How long have you all known each other?"

"Maxie and I have been friends since junior high," Van said, flashing Maxie a proud smile. "Isaac and Gnar have been friends just as long."

"Wow. Best friends dating best friends, huh?"

"Works out perfectly, doesn't it?" she said, letting her arm fall around Isaac.

"Actually, Gnar and I aren't dating," Maxie corrected.

"Yet," Gnar added.

Laughing, Gavin turned to Bea. "And how about you? Where do you fit into this equation?"

She nodded at Maxie. "Right beside her."

Gavin smiled. "Of course. Maxie. The ballerina turned chef."

Maxie returned his smile politely. "I guess my reputation precedes me."

"It does," he said.

"I model," Van piped up. "Did Bea tell you?"

Gavin shot Bea a glance and Maxie knew that Bea told him something about Van, though she doubted it had anything to do with her career endeavors. Still, Gavin smiled. "That's right. Van, the model."

 

By the third round of wine, they'd all learned that neither Isaac nor Bea believed in a higher power, Gavin called himself a Democrat despite his Republican stance on most issues, and Van had no opinion on either topic, mostly because she never thought enough about them to form one.

"Well what about your kids?" Gnar asked. "If you choose to stay neutral, that's your prerogative, but you should at least be knowledgeable about the subjects so you know what to instill in your kids."

"We're going to teach our kids to believe, or not believe, whatever they want," Van said. "Once they get out into the world, they can decide for themselves."

"Yeah, but what about before they get out into the world?" Bea asked.

Van shrugged. "I don't know, babe, what will we teach them?" she asked Isaac.

He sank back in his seat.

"Alright, alright," Gavin cut in, to Isaac's obvious relief. "We've discussed two of the three things you're not supposed to talk about at the dinner table. We may as well go ahead and jump into the third thing."

Maxie rolled her eyes and polished off the last bit of wine in her glass.

"Uh oh," Gnar said, sitting back. He set his hand down on Maxie's knee. "I think I might need another glass of wine for this."

"I'm way ahead of you," Isaac said, already trying to get their waitress's attention.

"I think I'm already drunk," Van groaned.

"Even better," Gavin said. "We'll go around the table. Everyone's favorite sex position. Starting with you, Bea," he said.

"Doggy style, for sure," she said without hesitation. Van squealed and raised her glass to toast to that.

Gavin looked to Isaac for an answer. He chuckled. "Are we really having this conversation?"

"Indeed we are," Gavin replied. "Go ahead, Isaac. Favorite position."

"I'll tell you what he likes," Van piped up, smiling wickedly. Isaac rolled his eyes, but he still wore a small grin on his lips. "He likes to be ridden. Backward. And sometimes I do this thing with my fingers—"

"That's enough, Van," he interjected. She and Bea both laughed loudly.

Maxie wanted to scream.

"Your turn," Gavin said, looking at her.

Gnar's eyes lit up with interest. "Is there something you do with your fingers?" he asked.

"Don't bother asking Maxie," Van said with the wave of a hand, and laughing, she added, "She's asexual." Maxie's face flushed impossibly red.

"What?" Gavin cried in disbelief. "No way. C'mon, I don't want to hear that."

"Alright," Bea said. "Leave Maxie alone. Gnar, you go."

"No, no, no one gets a pass. If you aren't a virgin, you've got a favorite sex position. Are you a virgin, Maxie?"

She exhaled. "No."

"Alright, then. Tell us. C'mon, we're all adults here."

"She probably doesn't even remember it," Van said, still laughing. "How long has it been since that one guy, Max?"

"What one guy would that be?" Gnar asked.

Maxie shook her head. "Can we just talk about something else?"

"No one's ever met him. Maxie does that, you know. She meets men and keeps them a secret. Right, Max? You don't like to share."

"You have no idea, Van," Maxie replied tightly.

"Well, who was he?" Gavin asked.

Maxie shrugged. "He was no one."

"She was crazy about him."

"Van—"

"You had to see how broken up she was when they stopped seeing each other. Me and Isaac had broken up around the same time for a while, right Max?" Maxie didn't reply. She wanted to get up from the table and run out of the restaurant. "You had to see us, moping around the apartment for months. It was pitiful."

"Who wants to dance?" Bea asked. Thank heavens for Bea.

"Ooh! Me!" Van said, immediately forgetting about the conversation at hand as she slid out from behind the table. She held her hand out to Isaac. "Come on, babe!"

"I think I'll just stay here," he said.

She pouted. "But I want to dance."

"I'll dance with you," Gnar said.

Van considered it for about a second before she perked back up. "Okay, come on."

Gnar took Van's hand and followed Bea and Gavin to the small dance floor, disappearing into the crowd. Maxie exhaled heavily. She felt as if it were the first breath she'd taken all night.

"Some night, huh?" Isaac said.

She rolled her eyes. "If only it would just be over."

He chuckled. "It isn't so bad."

"Sure, if you enjoy Van putting your sex life on display for a table of people... Wait. You did enjoy that," she said, dryly.

"We're just having fun."

"I'm not having fun."

For a while, they sat in silence. The waitress returned with another round of wine. Isaac peered down into his glass for a moment before looking up at Maxie. "I thought red wine makes you sick."

She raised an eyebrow. "What?"

He looked back down at his glass and shrugged. "I don't know. Never mind. Hey, do you want to dance?"

Maxie blinked. How could red wine jog his memory, but she couldn't? How could he remember her being sick, but he couldn't remember anything leading up to it? Anything after? "I thought you didn't want to dance," she said.

"That's because I can't. But you're good enough for the both of us, right?"

"I don't know about that," she replied.

He opened his hand to her across the table just as the music slowed. "I guess we'll just have to see."

Taking his hand, she followed him on to the dance floor. He gathered her in his arms, holding her tightly against him. She closed her eyes and rested her temple on his collarbone. When was the last time she was so close to him? When was the last time she was pressed against him, every part of her on every part of him, so close she could smell his skin?

Isaac's chin brushed against the skin of her face. They stood there, arms around one another, rocking back and forth, though they'd both tuned out the music. His hand went to her head and his fingers entwined themselves in the bushels of curls as if they belonged there. He leaned close to her ear and said, "I told you I can't dance."

Maxie wasn't sure if what they were doing even counted as dancing, standing in place, shifting their weight from one foot to another, but it was good enough for her, regardless. "You're doing just fine," she replied.

"So who was he?" he asked.

"Who?"

"The mystery man who left you broken."

For a while, she didn't reply. "He was no one."

He was you.

"Maxie!"

Releasing Isaac, Maxie turned to see Van standing behind them. Her expression was solemn, her eyes were unblinking, and she stared at them in a way that made Maxie want to hide her face.

 

When Bea and Gavin left to catch a train back to Gavin's place, Isaac and Van stayed behind to walk along the Hudson River, and Gnar and Maxie flagged a cab to take them back to Maxie's apartment.

"I'm sorry you didn't enjoy yourself tonight," Gnar said once they were in the back of the taxi.

"What makes you think I didn't enjoy myself?" she asked.

"Maxie," he said. "If you ever think every single thing you're feeling isn't written on your face for the world to see, you need to think again. Everything is there. Everything."

Everything? she wondered.

She shrugged weakly. "It wasn't that bad."

"You'll enjoy yourself more when it's just us," he said. "When we go on our date that we're not calling a date."

With a chuckle, she said, "You may as well call it a date if you're going to call it that."

Back at her building, he escorted her to her door. "Until next time," he said. He was standing close to her, so close she kept her head lowered for fear he would try to kiss her.

She nodded. "Yeah, next time."

As she suspected, he leaned in, his lips aiming for hers. Dropping her chin to her chest, she backed up against the door, turning her face away. "I'm sorry," she said quickly, her face burning with embarrassment.

Still leaning forward, he chuckled. "It was worth a try."

Maxie chuckled, too, and let out a small sigh. "And I suppose that was just the first of many?"

"You suppose right," he said, gently stroking her cheek. "Goodnight, Maxie. I'll see you soon."

 

When Maxie woke the next morning, Van was sitting across the room in the armchair, flipping through one of Maxie's photo albums. "Van?"

"Oh," Van said, looking up at her friend. "You're up."

"What are you doing in here?"

"I just came in to talk. But you were sleeping, so I figured I'd just wait." She looked down at the book and ran her fingers over one of the photos. "God, high school was amazing," she said.

Maxie sighed and peered up at the ceiling. She didn't think high school had been so amazing. The only thing she remembered about it was fading into Van's shadow. Beautiful, popular, social butterfly Van. Everyone wanted to know her, wanted to be her friend. And then there was Maxie, who was never quite sure if she'd ever even had the option. Still, she replied, "Yeah, Van."

"I know you went through hard times back then. But sometimes I think it all happened for a reason. To bring us together. It was like, once I got you into my life, I wasn't sure how I was living without you." She closed the album and set in down on the table beside her. Looking up at Maxie, she said, "You're my best friend."

Maxie sat up. "And you're mine."

Nodding, Van said, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Don't take this the wrong way," she said, shifting uncomfortably. Her eyes remained on her lap, she was fidgeting with the string of her tight pajama pants. "I just feel like I need to ask. I mean, it's probably stupid. I know it's stupid. But just for my own peace of mind, I'll ask."

"What is it, Van?"

"You and Isaac..." Maxie inhaled sharply. If Van's eyes weren't averted, she probably would have seen the wave of distress wash over Maxie's face. "I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm just asking."

"Asking what?" Maxie choked out.

"Do you guys... or did you guys... ever..." She paused, sighed, pushed her hair back off her forehead. Still, she didn't lift her eyes. "Has there ever been anything between you two? Anything at all?"

Maxie didn't reply at first. She couldn't. Her words were all jumbled in a thick knot, caught in her esophagus. Finally, she managed a barely audible, "No." Clearing her throat, she repeated more firmly, "No, Van. Why would you ask me that?"

Van shrugged. "I don't know. I told you it was stupid. It's just that when I saw you two dancing last night, when I saw him holding you... Well, he just looked so comfortable. Like he's held you that way a hundred and one times." At last, she looked up at Maxie, who sat stolidly on her bed. "He's held me like that a hundred and one times, and I can't remember him ever being so at ease."

"Maybe because your relationship with him is different from mine. Isaac and I are just—" Her voice got caught in her throat again. She forced a cough. "We're just friends. It's understandable to feel more at ease with a friend, I think. There are no expectations, less pressure."

"Do I pressure him?"

Maxie shook her head. "I don't know, Van. I'm just guessing here."

"Of course," Van said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even said anything. You're not upset with me, are you?"

"No."

Van nodded and said nothing else, but she didn't move to leave either, and she kept wrapping and unwrapping the string of the pants around her finger. "Is there anything else, Van?" Maxie asked. Van nodded. "What?"

"I had lunch with Alex last week." Maxie blinked. "He was the photographer at my shoot. Afterward, he offered to take me to get something to eat. I accepted. And then he walked me home. That was it. We just ate, and then I came home."

"Why... why didn't you mention it?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I didn't want you to think anything. I thought maybe it would be sort of inappropriate to have lunch with my best friend's ex-boyfriend. But it was just lunch, you know? We just ate. I didn't want to keep it from you. Because then it looks bad. And it was completely innocent, Max. I swear."

"I believe you, Van."

"Good."

"Why did you feel the need to tell me now?"

"I don't know." She sighed, closed her eyes and raised her chin toward the ceiling. "I have no idea."