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chapter sixteen the pollywog
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Jealousy was a tricky thing for Maxine to understand. Anger, she understood. Max knew that with anger-- everything was easy—you break shit, yell at people, maybe even cry a little once you're overwhelmed with it.
But jealousy is different. In some way.
It feels like there is an itch at the back of her throat, so she coughs once, trying to get rid of it. Two times when it doesn't go away. Three times, but the itch still persists. It starts to spread by then, reaching her fingers and toes and quickly consuming her until she can barely breathe, and that's when the jealousy turns to dark envy, and envy turns into bitter anger, and suddenly Max wants to scream.
Okay, so maybe jealousy isn't so different from anger. At least it's familiar, and that was comforting enough for Max to bite the inside of her cheek as she watched Rue run into Will's arms after locking her pretty pink bike on the school's bike rack.
Max squints at the sun, feeling a scowl grow on her lips. The whole morning, she had had that itch burn at her throat, and it was all Rue's fault. Rue Newby, who wakes up before her alarm, never slouches and always looks like those girls in the movies.
The girl wears skirts, tights, pink long-sleeved shirts, and fall jackets, and pins her long hair with white ribbons.
"Hi, Max."
Will Byers tears her out of her thoughts. He's smiling, and it causes Max to raise her brows. She notes the similarity Will and Rue have, how quick they are to clean up and ultimately forget about any of the bad things that happened less than twelve hours ago.
"Hey, Byers," Max nods at him, and then she adds, "Feeling any better?"
He blinks at her, almost as if he doesn't know what she's talking about, but then his face shifts into something Max doesn't quickly catch as either embarrassment or panic. "...What? Oh, right. Last night... yeah. Totally cool now."
