Right Hook (Gaslight series) COMPLETE

51| Late night confessions

Alyssa ♔

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Despite the chaos of the last few days, rapping to Tupac in Max's car makes everything feel right again. I can forget that I've barely spoken to my parents, that I'm staying at the gym, that the future is more uncertain than ever, and I can finally be me – whoever that happens to be.

The slam of the horn makes me jump. Max swears under his breath, quickly changing lanes as he glares in his rearview at the guy who undertook him. He'll never admit it, but the last few days have been stressful for both of us, and with him picking up more delivery shifts to help me get by, he's practically running on steam.

I swallow hard and risk a glance over, taking in the shadows beneath his eyes. It's my fault that he's working so hard, but I plan to find a part-time job to relieve some of the pressure, though I've had little luck. Despite sending my application to a handful of places, the only response was from the pretzel place at the mall, who felt obliged to tell me my resume was bare and that I needed to gain the necessary experience. On paper, there is nothing special about me after all.

We pull up to the parking lot, where Max kills the engine. Maybe it's stupid, but part of me wanted to come and get milkshakes to feel a little more normal. So much changed in such a short space that grabbing milkshakes and playing footsy under the table sounds like heaven.

Like the gentleman he is, Max walks around the side of my car to open my door. Together, we head into the milkshake bar and find a booth in the corner, relieved that none of my old friends are around. While I'm still friends with Tiana, who's been supportive despite everything, the others have frozen me out.

"What are you going to get?" I ask before scanning the menu. "Chocoletta delight? Pixie Eton mess?"

His eyebrow quirks. "Those sound like porno names."

I lightly kick him under the table. "I can't take you anywhere."

He leans forward and grabs my hand before grinning. "That's not true. You can take me home if you want."

I laugh because things feel back to normal again. We're just two kids getting milkshakes, and I don't have to worry about money or family or what's going to happen with college in the fall: I get to be here with him.

"What do you wanna watch when we get home?" I ask.

The word slips out before I know what I'm saying. Home, like we made a conscious decision to live together or that we're two well-rounded adults instead of a couple of kids who have no idea what they're doing. Max's eyes snap to mine, and as he stares at me, I can tell he's thinking the same thing.

"There's this new series I'm watching," I say to change the subject, and for the next few minutes, I tell him all about it while he watches me, eyes on mine like he's listening to every word – the complete opposite of Justin. I could be talking about the most stupid thing, and Max will listen like I'm giving a Nobel Prize speech.

That's why I love him.

"Let me get this straight," he says, leaning forward. "This chick's mom goes around killing everyone, and everyone's just fine with it?"

"Well, she's so charismatic that not many people know yet," I say, "except for the kids."

"And are the kids messed up?"

"Kinda," I say. "Everyone online hates the daughter because they think she's too dramatic."

Max leans back, shaking his head, and says, "Yeah, it sounds like she's taking this my mom's a murderer thing way too far."