18.

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◈ 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒗 ◈

I never intended for Baxter to know any of this information. I should have known that the stress of finding out about him and Summer would trigger a nightmare. My nightmares are stress induced. When I'm feeling overwhelmed I get transported back to the night my life went to shit. Asking Bax to stay was a flaw I couldn't pass by. He blinded me from the pain.

The nightmare was embarrassing—annoying even. The phone call with my mother, that was inexcusable. There was no ripping that memory from his mind. My outburst didn't help. The pain that I hold toward her for being the reason my brother is gone, will always tarnish the relationship between my mother and I.

She lets me do whatever I please because she holds that guilt so deep in her soul that she can't tell me no. She's been a shell of a human, medicated to numb the pain she feels. It's why I've felt like I've lived alone with no one but Summer.

I healed as much as I could on my own. My parents insisted I try therapy. So I went... once. They'd drop me off at the door and I'd wander for an hour until they'd come to pick me back up. They bought me medicine to numb pain that didn't exist—in the way they thought it did. I flushed it because I didn't want to be like my mother.

I'm not the daughter they think I am. I'm not some broken girl, spending every night weeping over the death of my brother. I'm a fully functioning person, capable of forming meaningful bonds—capable of sharing the love my brother taught me to have.

Life had always been May and Max. He taught me everything I knew. We were Irish twins. My mom had him and knew right away she needed another. We were inseparable. We were partners in crime. My mom lumps us together still like we are one. But we aren't because he is gone and I'm still here. I'm trying to live as much as a normal life as I can. I really just want that to exist again.

Don't get me wrong, there are times that I lose myself in Max. I find myself wondering what life would be like if he were still around. But I find him whenever I need him, still lingering. It's how I have grown to accept it all—how I've grown to accept all my decisions.

As Bax lays in bed next to me, I stare at a light reflecting in my window onto my wall. It's flashing. A constant pattern never changing. I ask it a simple question, "do I stay?" I tell myself that if it changes I stay, if it doesn't I will go home. I will oblige to my parent's demand, and I will uproot my happiness for them.

As my eyes focus on the light, my finger taps against Bax's chest, completely in rhythm with its flashes. As my finger taps, the light stops. It stays lit, no longer flashing. My finger stops, and Bax replays the taps upon my skin.

"Can't sleep?" I nuzzle my head into his chest, adjusting to hear the thumping of his heart inside. The sound centers the whirling thoughts in my head. Organizing them into their correct filing cabinets. My hazed mind becomes clear, everything falling into line like it's being ordered to do so.

"A lots going on in my head right now." He admits. I'm glad he does because I want him to be honest. Honesty is what has kept our relationship healthy. Granted it hasn't been long, but it's what works for us.

"I'm not crazy." I draw hearts on his bare chest. The tip of my finger barely grazing against his skin. If it were me I'd fighting the urge to squirm from the tickles it'd send through me. "I wouldn't hurt you—or anyone for that matter—like my mom suggests I would."

"I know. If you were going to hurt someone you would have already hurt them." He means Summer, and he's not wrong. If I were as mad as my mom says I am, Summer would be the first target—even if I did love her like a sister.

"What else is it then?" I sigh, hoping he'll open up, but it's highly unlikely. He keeps everything close to his chest. A fear of everything crumbling around him otherwise.

"Just thinking about how alike we are. Broken families. Pained past. We deal with our emotions the same. We bottle it up until we crack. I almost lost my shot with you because I'm trapped in a web." He lets out a heavy breath. My head rising and falling with it.

"You're known to fuck shit up Bax. Comes with being a Radic." I chuckle quietly, I hope he takes it lightly. "It's okay to make mistakes. It's going to happen. If you don't learn from them, that's when things don't work. I don't want to be the reason you lose any of your connections. But if you are still caught up on any feelings you have for Summer then we shouldn't be us. You should work through that because it's not fair to either of us. I don't want to second guess any time the two of you are alone."

"That's what. I don't want. That's what I'm scared of. The past being our downfall. I want to keep a friendship with Summer and I want you. I want those ideas to exist side by side. But what if I slip again? What if I inevitably fall back to who I have always been?" Bax runs his fingers through his hair. The loss of his fingertip taps is like a little blow to the gut. It's a distraction, one that's now missing.

"Don't worry about all that. You know what will happen if you do fall back. You lose me. If you can accept losing me and still do it then it was never meant to be. We cross that bridge if it ever arises." I place a kiss to his bare chest, rolling over to my stomach—resting my head on my crossed hands against his chest.

"Don't go?" His eyes glance into mine.

"Don't plan on it." I smile at him.

My mom wasn't coming. My dad wasn't either. No one was going to take me to the airport. No one was going to force me on a plane. I was here until my mind told me otherwise. Even if it meant sleeping on the street. This place felt more like home did home did. New York home felt like existing, Australia home felt like living. I liked living a lot more.

𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭  ||  baxter radicWhere stories live. Discover now