Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Grounded

The flashing blue and red lights painted the brick walls of the convenience store parking lot in violent streaks of color.

Maximilian Elsher sat on the curb with his hands cuffed behind his back, his head hanging low. The cold metal bit into his wrists, but he barely noticed.

He'd been arrested before.

Just never like this.

A police officer stood over him, flipping through a small evidence bag. Inside were several pills in a clear plastic container and two tightly rolled joints.

"You know how old you are?" the officer asked.

Max didn't answer.

"I'm talking to you."

"Sixteen."

"So you know you're underage."

A shrug.

The officer sighed. "Whose drugs are these?"

Max stared at the pavement.

"They're mine."

"They're not yours, are they?"

Silence.

The truth was they belonged to one of his friends, but there wasn't a chance Max was going to snitch.

The officer shook his head.

"You kids think loyalty is taking the fall for someone who'd leave you behind without thinking twice."

Max laughed bitterly.

"What makes you think they left me behind?"

The officer looked toward the empty parking lot.

"There wasn't anyone here when we arrived, was there?"

That answer stung more than Max expected.

His friends had scattered the moment the police cruiser pulled in.

No one looked back.

No one called.

No one stayed.

Just like always.

---

The ride to the precinct was painfully quiet.

Max leaned against the window, watching city lights blur into streaks.

He wondered how long it would take before his mother found out.

Probably not long.

She always found out.

---

Nearly an hour later, the desk sergeant looked up from his paperwork.

"Your mother's here."

Max closed his eyes.

Great.

A few moments later, Sarah Elsher walked through the station doors.

She looked exhausted.

Her dark hair was hastily tied into a bun, and she still wore hospital scrubs beneath a long cardigan. One sleeve had a faint stain that looked like coffee. She'd obviously come straight from work.

She stopped when she saw him.

For a second, there was nothing on her face.

No anger.

No disappointment.

Just heartbreak.

Somehow...

That was worse.

She quietly signed the paperwork without speaking.

Paid the bail.

Thanked the officers.

Then turned to Max.

"Let's go."

Her voice was calm.

Too calm.

---

The drive home was silent.

Sarah kept both hands on the steering wheel.

Max slouched in the passenger seat, staring out the window.

The silence stretched until it became unbearable.

Finally Sarah spoke.

"Drugs?"

"It wasn't a big deal."

She laughed once.

A short, humorless sound.

"You were arrested."

"I said it wasn't a big deal."

"You could have been charged."

"I wasn't."

"You could have overdosed."

"I didn't."

"You could have—"

"But I didn't!"

His shout filled the car.

Sarah's grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"You think this is a joke?"

"I think you're overreacting."

She slammed on the brakes at a red light and turned toward him.

"Overreacting?"

Her voice shook.

"I got a phone call in the middle of my shift telling me my sixteen-year-old son had been arrested."

People in nearby cars glanced over.

She didn't care.

"I spent the last twelve hours taking care of strangers, then left work wondering if my child was hurt, bleeding, or dead."

Max looked away.

Instead of softening, Sarah continued.

"And I find you sitting in a police station acting like this is an inconvenience."

"I said I'm fine."

"No."

She swallowed hard.

"You're not."

The light turned green.

She drove on.

Neither of them spoke again until they reached home.

---

The house felt unusually quiet.

Sarah tossed her keys onto the kitchen counter before turning to face him.

"Phone."

"What?"

"Give me your phone."

"No."

"Max."

"No."

She held out her hand.

"Now."

After several tense seconds, he pulled the phone from his hoodie pocket and dropped it into her palm.

"Your car keys."

"I need my car."

"You lost that privilege."

"I have plans, I've got school."

"You should have thought about those before getting arrested."

Max scoffed.

"This is ridiculous."

"So is getting arrested with drugs."

She held out her hand again.

He hesitated before fishing the keys from his pocket.

She placed them beside the phone.

"You're grounded."

He barked out a laugh.

"I'm sixteen."

"And you're acting six."

"You can't keep me here forever."

"No? Watch me."

Her eyes met his.

"For the next month, school and home. That's it."

"A month?"

"Six weeks."

"What?"

"You want to argue?"

He clenched his jaw.

"This is bullshit."

Sarah flinched.

Not because of the words.

Because of the venom behind them.

"I've done everything for you."

"I never asked you to."

The words landed like a slap.

For a moment neither of them moved.

Sarah blinked rapidly.

"Since your father left, I've worked two jobs."

Silence.

"I've missed birthdays."

Silence.

"I've missed holidays."

Silence.

"I've missed sleep."

Her voice cracked.

"So you could have a roof over your head."

Max folded his arms.

"I didn't ask for that either."

The room went deathly still.

Sarah looked at him for several long seconds.

When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I know you're angry."

"I'm not angry."

"Then tell me what you are."

He opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Because he didn't know.

He wasn't angry.

Not really.

He was tired.

Lonely.

Lost.

But admitting that felt impossible.

So instead he shrugged.

"I don't know."

Sarah nodded slowly.

"I think you do."

She picked up his phone and keys.

"You'll get these back when you've earned my trust."

He rolled his eyes.

"Whatever."

He brushed past her, taking the stairs two at a time.

His bedroom door slammed hard enough to rattle the picture frames downstairs.

Sarah remained standing in the kitchen.

For a long time, she simply stared at the closed bedroom door.

Then she sank into one of the dining chairs, covered her face with both hands, and finally let herself cry.

Upstairs, Max lay flat on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

His room suddenly felt smaller than ever.

His phone was gone.

His keys were gone.

His freedom was gone.

And despite everything he'd said, he couldn't stop thinking about the moment the police lights had flashed across the parking lot.

His friends hadn't even hesitated.

They had run.

They hadn't called.

They hadn't come back.

For the first time in a long while, Max wondered if he had been trying so hard to belong to people who had never really wanted him there in the first place.