Marlowe's Massacre | ;

CHAPTER 13

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[.19.6.27]

"Oh, so you're fucking her." André said, the cigarette between his lips curving smoke into the loft. "Wonderful!" He dashed. "How's that coming along for you?"

"Quit it."

"Nah, no!" He slurred. "You're a real ass, fucking the girl who killed your brother."

"Enough." Max demanded, really his body was on fire. "I'm not fucking her, Dré." A sigh of annoyance pestered through. "Have some respect."

"Then why, why is she suddenly peaking your interest. It's because she was last to see Marlowe alive, isn't?" He said and Max couldn't help but feel the small speck of jealousy coming from his words.

"You act like that's such a bad thing! Wanting to talk to the very last person to see your brother alive." He said half-way leaning on the wall.

"You don't find that suspicious though, Maxwell?" He hinted, vowels seeping through the now haze of smoke lingering around the loft. "She could've killed him." André's could've came out as a did in Max's mind. This ticked him.

"She didn't, I know she didn't and I'm sick and tired of you not believing that, Dré." He admitted. "Why won't you believe that, you don't even know Teddy, we just met her. What do you have against her?"

"Nothing." He revealed taking the cigarette out of his mouth and ashing it. "It's just I can't stop seeing you dead next," He confessed. "and then having to explain to your parents that he was with the same girl who just happened to be there at Marlowe's darkest hour."

Maybe, the jealousy he saw was a shield of concern, radioactive protectiveness, endearment; this was the first time, André had voiced compassion—Maxwell didn't know if he should go hug Andréw or cry because he felt so shallow hearing that, he probably looked pale too, on the verge of dying in his friend's eyes because his way of coping wasn't coping now that he had thought about it even more. He never truly healed for the loss of Marlowe, he just swallowed his daily dose of pride and hoped he could. "You know I'm careful, André and she really isn't that bad."

André said nothing in reply.

"Look, I had mentioned to Teddy that I would take her down to the harbor's boardwalk before everything closed. Now I'm thinking we should do something sooner so we all can go, including you to have fun. To be on the same page." Max said and though André didn't say anything again Max felt some closure. "I'm going to bed." He announced leaving him alone in the living space before coming back with a pillow in his hand. "Get some sleep here." Implying the couch as he threw the pillow at André. "You're drunk."

~~~

Faye, the youngest sister of Teddy's mother and aunt had been wide awake when Teddy came home. She had been applying lipstick in front of the dresser. "Where are you going? It's five o'clock in the morning."

"Where were you, it's five o'clock in the morning?"

"You can't answer my question with a question, Faye."

"And you're not allowed to ignore it either. I'm still older than you, tell me where you were now." She said putting on gold earrings, they were hoops that dangled a bit above her shoulders.

"I was over Maxwell's place, you know about him, right?"

"I do," She said after a split second of thinking about it. "And do I have to ask what you were doing with him that you showed back up at the house at five o'clock in the morning, Theo?" She asked and through the subtle question, Teddy completely got the hidden message.