𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲; byler

- 𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓇𝓎 10 -

𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝓍𝓉 day and a half, my phone doesn't stop beeping.

First, Mike tries to reach me through text, but I block his number. Then, Skype. For about an hour and a half my phone and laptop beep simultaneously with the tinkling music I've come to loathe. It's much harder than I thought, not answering. I hate ignoring him like that.

When I block him on there too (with a heavy heart), he moves to Instagram. 
I honestly can't bring myself to block him on there. I don't know why. I just feel like it's the last thread tying me to him at the moment. I need it, I need to know I still can write to him if I need to. I need to know I didn't cut him all the way off.

So for hours later my phone keeps buzzing with messages from him.  It literally takes every inch of self control I have not to respond, but that notion makes me even more sure this is the right way to go. 
I can't afford to fall this hard.

When I wake up on the day of my lunch date, however, the messages have ceased. I know it's not fair to be upset that they have, so I push those feelings as far back as I can.

It's going be a good day, I tell myself. Forget about him, Brady is coming. Brady. For  you. 

I hear the tinkling of Skype again, and my all body just stops. Could it- no. You blocked him! I try reminding to myself, but I have to admit I'm still a tiny bit hopeful as I open my computer.

MadMax calling.

 I click answer with a tiny grimace, and the smiling face I know so well appears on the screen.

"Eek!" She squeals the moment she sees my face, "It's the big day!" 

I laugh, and I hope she can't hear the nervousness echoing from the sound.
"Okay. First tings first- that's not what you're wearing, is it?"  She looks at my old "Jaws" T shirt with a skeptical look, and I shrug.

"I hadn't really thought about it yet-?" I say cautiously. Her blue eyes widen in shock.
"You're kidding?? god, men. You're lucky you have me," she says.
"That I am," I say sincerely, and she winks.

"Okay. Take me to your closet!" she commends, pointing forward, and I oblige. I take my laptop to the closet, and she clicks tongue disapprovingly.
"That's all?" She asks, and I shrug once more.

"I didn't really pack for a date," I reply.
"I'll guess we'll make due." she says.

                                                                                ✏ - - - - - - - - - -- - -

For the next hour or so (yes, a full hour!!!) Max commends me to move the laptop back and forth, pull out various articles of clothing and put them back.

"ooo, that's pretty! what is it?" She points at something on the very back of the closet, and I pull it out. It's a light blue knitted sweater, but it's my mother's. She must have forgotten it here at some point.

"Yes. You have to wear it!!" She exclaims, but I shake my head firmly.
"Max, it's my mother's sweater. I can't wear it!"
"Why not? I doubt she'd mind..." Max says, but I shake my head again.

"No! It's a women's sweater!" It's more fitted and thin than any of the clothes I own. It's beautiful, but it was very clearly made for a women. It's not that it's not that I don't like it, it's just... I don't think I have it in me to wear women's clothes in public.

"So?" Max dares, but I shake my head again. 
"Fine. But for the record, I think it would look great on you."

In the end, she settles on the one button down shirt I have that's light grey. She pairs it with a pair of black jeans and a white belt and I didn't even know I owned. 
"Okay, good enough. I wish we could share clothes, I have the perfect shoes for you! but I guess just wear your converse." Max looks over the outfit with a satisfied nod, and stretches.

"Masterful work, as per usual. Now, be a good boy. Don't do something I wouldn't do-"

"I don't think that's a very clear line-"

"-You're right. Don't do anything you wouldn't do. Don't forget to call me when you get back and most importantly- have fun!!" she squeals, and I smile at her. I try not to let it show how un-excited I am for this. The more time passes, the more I think this was a bad idea.

"Thanks, Mad Max. Love you," I say and she smiles and blows me a kiss. Then her screen goes black. 

I look at my watch. 2:20. Probably time to get ready. I wear the clothes Max had picked out, but after a second I make an impulse decision. I remove the shirt, and pull on the soft blue sweater instead.

I look at myself in the mirror I rarely use- I actually don't look too bad. I've basically forgotten what it was like to wear jeans, to put effort into the way I look. Although I'm not actually that formal I feel like I could go to a ball. Max was right, the sweater brings out the green bits in my eyes. I actually kind of like the way I look today.

I take a deep breath. I can't believe I'm actually going on a date. I grab my oxygen tank and head out the door, so stressed I can barley breathe.

I try not to think how disappointed I am that it's not Mike I'm going to see.

                                                                                                                          - 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝓁

[AUTHOR SAYS]

Sorry!! I just really wanted the date to have a chapter of it's own:))

P. S I need a Will x Max friendship in season 4 BAD. come on Duffers!!!!!