Chapter Twenty one

The first week back at school had gone better than anyone expected.

Not perfectly.

Max still complained about his teachers.

He still dropped his backpack beside the front door instead of putting it where it belonged.

He still had an impressive ability to turn the simplest question from Sarah into an argument.

But he was trying.

That was what mattered.

And everyone noticed.

Especially Nate.

Which was precisely the problem.

Because lately, Max was noticing Nate too.

Not in the ordinary way.

Not the way he'd watched him when he was ten years old and thought Nate and Micah were the coolest people in the world.

Something had changed.

And Max didn't know what to do about it.

It had probably always been there but intensified that night.

The night he'd been unable to sleep and had stayed downstairs reading one of Nate's medical textbooks., eventually he'd fallen asleep with the book beside him.

The night he'd dreamed.

A strange, confusing dream.

One he didn't understand.

One he absolutely did not want to think about.

He'd woken with his heart racing and his face burning, staring into the darkness and wondering what the hell was wrong with him.

He hadn't told anyone.

He couldn't.

And since then, being around Nate had become...

awkward.

Painfully awkward.

Nate hadn't noticed yet.

At least, Max hoped he hadn't.

----------------------

Saturday morning arrived bright and clear.

Max was halfway through breakfast when Nate walked into the kitchen.

"Morning."

Max looked up.

Their eyes met.

For one horrible second, Max remembered the dream.

He immediately looked down at his cereal.

"Morning."

Nate paused.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Yep."

Nate frowned.

Max shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Sarah looked between them.

"Why are you eating like someone's trying to steal it?"

"I'm hungry."

"You've eaten two bowls already."

"I'm still hungry."

Nate smiled.

"Teenage metabolism."

Max's ears went warm.

He stood abruptly. "I'm finished."

"Already?" Nate asked, looking down at the suddenly empty bowl.

"I'm full."

He grabbed his bowl and hurried toward the sink.

Nate watched him go.

Something was definitely wrong.

----------------------

Twenty minutes later, Nate knocked on Max's bedroom door.

"Get dressed."

"No."

"We're going out."

"I don't want to."

"Too bad."

"Where?"

"Surprise."

Max opened the door a crack.

Nate stood there holding two bicycle helmets.

Max stared at them.

"...Absolutely not."

Nate grinned.

"Absolutely yes."

----------------------

The drive to Lake Alder was strangely quiet.

Normally Max would have filled the silence with complaints.

Today he stared out the window.

Nate glanced at him several times.

"You've been quiet."

"I'm tired."

"You were quiet at breakfast."

"I was eating."

"You've been quiet since breakfast."

Max shrugged.

"Maybe I'm developing."

Nate laughed.

"That would be terrifying."

Max smiled despite himself.

Then immediately looked away.

Nate noticed.

He didn't say anything.

Not yet.

----------------------

The lake was beautiful.

The morning sun glittered across the water while cyclists moved along the winding trail.

Nate rented two bicycles.

Max stared at his.

"I haven't ridden one of these in years."

"Neither have I."

"That's comforting."

"It'll come back."

"Unless I die."

"Then I'll explain to your mother that you died doing something you didn't want to do."

Max laughed.

"You're terrible."

"Thank you."

----------------------

Within ten minutes, Max was racing down the trail.

"Nate!"

"What?"

"You're slow!"

"I've been riding for thirty seconds!"

"Excuses!"

Nate laughed and accelerated.

Soon they were flying down the trail, shouting at each other while people turned to stare.

Max's laughter carried across the lake.

It was different from the small laughs he'd been giving everyone lately.

This was genuine.

Careless.

Free.

Nate found himself smiling.

There he was.

The boy he'd remembered.

The ten-year-old who used to race through the backyard with a plastic sword.

The kid who had once followed him everywhere.

For a moment, Nate could almost see that child again.

----------------------

They stopped at a small bridge.

Max leaned over the railing, breathing hard.

"Okay."

"What?"

"I admit it."

"Admit what?"

"You beat me."

Nate stared. "You challenged me."

"And you won."

"Then say it properly."

"Hell no."

"Say, 'Nate is the greatest cyclist in the history of humanity.'"

"I'd rather swallow the lake."

Nate laughed.

Max laughed too.

And for a few minutes, neither of them thought about anything else.

----------------------

By lunchtime, they were starving.

They found a small diner beside the lake and ordered an absurd amount of food.

Burgers, Fries, Chicken tenders, Onion rings, Milkshakes, Pie.

Max stared at the table.

"We're going to die."

"Probably."

"Mom's going to kill us first."

"Also probably."

Max picked up a fry.

"But this is worth it."

"Absolutely."

For the first time that day, Max relaxed.

He talked about school.

He complained about one of his teachers.

He told Nate about a classmate who had fallen asleep during history.

He even admitted that he'd made a new friend.

Nate smiled.

"That's good."

"Yeah."

"You like him?"

"He's okay."

"High praise."

"Don't make it weird."

"I'm not."

Max smiled.

Then he remembered the dream again.

The smile disappeared.

Nate noticed immediately.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Something changed."

"Nothing changed."

"You were laughing two seconds ago."

"I'm tired."

Nate leaned back.

"Max."

"What?"

"You've been acting strange all week."

Max's stomach tightened.

"I'm not."

"You are."

Nate's voice remained gentle.

"You don't have to tell me what's wrong."

Max looked at him.

"But if something's bothering you..."

"I'm fine."

He said it too quickly.

Nate knew better than to push.

"Okay."

He picked up his burger.

"But I'm here if you want to talk."

Max nodded.

He couldn't look at him.

----------------------

The arcade was worse.

Or better.

Depending on who was keeping score.

Nate challenged Max to air hockey.

Max destroyed him.

"This game is broken."

"You lost."

"The table is broken."

"You lost by eight points."

"The puck was biased."

Max laughed.

"You are such a sore loser."

"I prefer determined."

"I prefer embarrassed."

"Of course you do."

They moved to the basketball machines.

Then the racing games.

Then the claw machine.

Max spotted a stuffed shark.

"Look."

Nate followed his gaze.

"That thing looks miserable."

"Exactly."

"We should rescue him."

"That's probably not what the machine wants."

"I don't care."

Nate sighed.

"Fine."

Twenty minutes later, Nate was several dollars poorer.

Max was laughing uncontrollably.

"You are terrible at this."

"I've got it."

"You said that six attempts ago."

"This time."

The claw dropped.

Grabbed the shark.

Lifted it.

Max's mouth fell open.

"No way!"

The machine released the toy into the prize chute.

Max practically jumped.

"We got him!"

Nate handed over the stuffed shark.

"You wanted him."

Max hugged it against his chest.

"He's perfect."

"His name?"

Max considered.

"Bruce."

"Bruce?"

"Definitely Bruce."

Nate shook his head.

"Fine."

----------------------

The afternoon slowly faded toward evening.

They sat on the pier overlooking the lake.

Max held Bruce in his lap.

Nate stretched his legs out in front of him.

The silence was comfortable.

Then Max spoke.

"I need to tell you something."

Nate turned toward him.

"Okay."

Max swallowed.

"It's embarrassing."

"You don't have to be embarrassed."

"I do."

"Why?"

"Because it's stupid."

"Most things aren't as stupid as they feel in your head."

Max stared at the water.

"I had a weird dream."

Nate waited.

Max's fingers tightened around the stuffed shark.

"About you."

Nate's expression changed slightly.

"Okay."

"I don't want to tell you what happened."

"You don't have to."

"It made me feel..."

He struggled for the word.

"Confused."

Nate nodded.

"Dreams can do that."

"I woke up feeling weird."

"You've been avoiding me because of it?"

Max looked embarrassed.

"Maybe."

Nate smiled gently.

"You don't have to avoid me."

"I don't know what the dream means."

Nate was silent.

"What if it means something?" Max asked.

"Then you'll figure it out eventually."

Max looked at him.

"You aren't angry?"

"Why would I be?"

"I don't know."

Nate shrugged.

"You had a dream... Big deal. It doesn't mean you have to explain something you're not ready to explain."

Max's shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Okay."

Nate looked back at the lake.

"You know what I've learned?"

"What?"

"The human brain is weird."

Max laughed softly.

"That's your medical explanation?"

"Absolutely."

"Very professional. I'll put it in my thesis."

----------------------

They sat quietly for several minutes.

Then Max said something else.

"I think..." He stopped.

"What?"

"I think I'm scared of figuring myself out."

Nate looked at him.

"That's not so hard, you know."

"How?"

"Because that's something you can actually talk me about."

Max smiled faintly.

"I don't know what I am."

"You don't have to know today."

"What if I never know?"

"Then you take your time."

"What if people judge me?"

"Some will."

Max looked down.

"But the people who love you?" Nate continued. "They'll still love you."

Max nodded.

"Okay."

Nate smiled.

"And for what it's worth..."

"You don't have to be afraid of telling me things."

Max looked at him.

"I know."

It was the first time all day that he felt certain of that.

----------------------

The drive home was quieter.

Max eventually fell asleep against the window.

Bruce rested against his chest.

Nate glanced over at him at a red light.

The boy looked peaceful.

No anger.

No defensive expression.

No walls.

Just sleep.

Nate smiled.

He thought about the last few months.

The fights.

The grief.

The shouting.

The locked bedroom door.

The suspension.

The apologies.

The hiking trail.

The garage.

The books.

And now this.

Progress wasn't always obvious.

Sometimes it was simply a teenager trusting someone enough to admit:

I'm confused.

I'm scared.

I don't understand myself yet.

Nate understood that.

More than Max probably realized.

He turned back toward the road.

"Take your time, kid."

Max didn't answer.

But his arms tightened slightly around Bruce in his sleep.

And Nate smiled.

Maybe that was enough.