@beenwaitingtoolong Max continued X
If only she knew how often he does cry these days. In the late night/early morning when he should be sleeping he cries through the pain and the fear that his nightmares grip him with. He cries remembering the angry words of a father who was more pissed they were at the mall in the first place than he was glad both kids were alive.
At that moment he was just trying to let the grief out. Let the anger run it’s course in a way that would only hurt himself. Because his body healed more than most would after something tried to rip him apart but he’s still weak. He can’t lift his weights, he can’t do the stupid fucking kegstand, and most importantly he can’t play basketball. Any chance at a scholarship gone.
His chance to leave his asshole father behind, gone.
Billy threw an old little league ball he hated right through his window before he heard Max at his door. Hearing her voice made the anger bleed out and replaced it with shame. “Stay out, Max. There’s broken glass.” His voice comes out tired and ashamed.
