Part 8

309 8 31
                                    

3314 Words

Max's POV


I'm sure those two are talking about me. I just need a shower. I feel like crap right now. I can't believe what I just did. I can't believe what I just said to those two. I can't believe that they both know about me. This was my last secret, and I just came out and told them. Now they're going to think I'm crazy or something. I mean, I'm sure my dad's the one that got me out of the bath. And I'm sure he's the one that got me dressed. Which means, he's the one that found what was in my drawer. And that means, he's the one that put me in this diaper and he's the one that put a pacifier in my mouth. But did he tell her? Did she know? Or did I just tell her my secret? What is she going to think about me now? God, this is bad.


I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I stripped down and got in. I washed my hair and started to wash the rest of myself. That's when it finally hit me, and I started to cry. All of the stuff I had just said out in the front room, all of the stuff that has been going on the last couple of days, all of the stuff that has happened in my life: my world came crashing down on me.


I let my tears get washed away, down the drain with everything else. I know I took too long in the shower, but I needed it. I needed the hot water to beat me up. I needed to feel the heat wash it all away. I needed to feel normal again. I knew that there would be questions. Questions about what I had brought with me. Questions about how long I had my secret. All sorts of questions that I didn't want to answer. At least not yet. I knew I would have to answer them eventually, just not yet. I didn't know all of the answers yet. I had some questions myself, but I know those would have to wait as well. At least some of them.


After I finished my shower, I got out and dried off. I got dressed back into a clean set of clothes. As I was looking around the bedroom, I saw the pacifier and my bear. I quickly put them back in my bag. I didn't want them to remind me of what happened. I was too embarrassed about it. I cleaned up the room, making sure that there was no evidence from last night. By the time I walked out to the living room the bedroom was completely cleaned. I had used that extra time to think, to come up with a game plan: a game plan to keep the talk on what was going to happen next, and not what happened last night. 'A game plan to save the world'. Now that was laughable, I thought to myself.


I walked out into the living room and at first glance I knew things had changed. I could tell that they had talked. I knew they would, but to what extent I didn't know. They both where staring at me, probably wondering how I was going to react. 


I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and said, "So, where do we start?"


That broke the silence, but not the tension in the room. I could feel it. I could almost taste it; it was so thick. I knew right then we would have to talk about what happened. But I don't think they knew how to bring it up. I looked closer at them, and saw they looked scared. Scared of me? Scared of what I might do? Maybe scared of me slipping again? I started to shake a little. I didn't really know why. But I think it was because I just realized that they were worried about me.


Sam, after seeing me and after I said what I did, just looked at her hands. Dad on the other hand, just kept staring at me. Neither of them spoke. Even dad started to look down instead of at me. Neither of the adults in the room could figure out how to start this conversation.


I stopped my shaking. A smile broke out on my face. And I laughed. That got their attention. O god did that get their attention. I couldn't help it with the thoughts running through my head. I thought I would be the embarrassed one. But come to find out, they were. They were so out of the loop, they had no clue what was going on. They probably thought that I was not going to be able to handle this.

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