BLACK TAR → madwheeler

four.

     ⋆｡˚ MAX AWOKE TO A SLIGHT DIM ORANGE LIGHT, SHADOWS BECOMING INTO DARK SHAPES AS SHE TRIED TO REMEMBER WHAT HAD HAPPENED. Bits and pieces came back to her in the darkness, and she slowly sat up, putting a hand to her temple.

     She had taken the oxy, that she remembered for sure. She remembered drinking the whiskey -- almost retching as the burning taste came back to her -- and she remembered Mike suddenly becoming a hard-ass out of nowhere.

     He had asked Xan to talk, left the room, and then. . . then, Xan had stood up, and of course, Max had already been watching him.

     The boy turned to her and raised an eyebrow before sliding the bottle towards her.

     Then, he had leaned in, and she at first thought he was going to kiss her, which both excited and terrified her at the same time. But Xan didn't kiss her. Instead, he said in a calm and quiet voice, "Do whatever the fuck you want."

     He leveled his stare. "Especially if they don't want you too."

     Xan left her with that, raising back up and shaking out his hands before he steeled himself, and had opened and closed the door. Max was left shrouded in silence, only low, murmured voices coming from the entryway.

     And with that, Max had reached for the whiskey bottle, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she unscrewed the top, and took a swig.

     Now, she was definitely feeling the effects of the night before. Her head was pounding, and she felt nauseous and clammy, probably from the hangover and the lingering effects of the oxy she had popped.

      She groaned, putting her head in her hands before getting to her feet, grabbing her bag by the couch and stuffing her full capsule of pills, her phone, and the rest of the Jack Daniels bottle in her bag. Who knew -- maybe she could use it with Jane.

      Max opened the door, starting down the long stretch of hallway. As she entered the living room, she heard voices coming from the kitchen. Moving past the long dining room table, she entered the doorway to find Xan leaning against the counter, his phone pressed to his ear.

     "Troy," He hissed into the speaker. "I don't give two fucks how long it takes, those deals need to get done today. Mike already had to cover for your ass two shifts in a row. Get your fucking shit together before I fuck all your re-ups, you got it?"

     He shook his head hard, a vein in his neck standing out before he hung up the call, turning finally to see who had wandered into the kitchen.

     "Well, well, well, Maxine, rise and shine," He chuckled, resting his forearms on the countertop. "How's the hangover?"

     She grimaced. "Kills."

     Xan's smile widened. "How was the party?"

     Despite herself, Max felt herself smiling back. "Un-fucking-real."

     Xan grinned before pushing himself off the counter, jerking his head in the direction of the foyer. "C'mon, I'll drive you home. Least I can do."

     "Really? Shit, thank you. I think I'm still a little drunk."

     Max scooped up her bag, following him as he lead the way towards the front door. She dug around for her keys before handing them to the blonde as he closed it behind them, Max following him to her black Corolla.

     "Wait, fuck," She stopped briefly, looking back at the house. "What about Mike?"

     "He's good," Xan called to her, having not stopped walking. "He's crashing here till later. I'll drive him when he wakes up."