This week has been weird. I'm not used to people paying this much attention to me. Some guys have started checking me out, like for real, Emma has caught more then a couple guys taking sideways glances at me. Not that I don't mind, really.
It's flattering, but sad to know that the only reason why is because they think Sam's getting it from me, so then I must be good. Or something, I don't know. I'm never gonna understand the guys mind.
I come home in sweaty clothes. As much as Sam's a sweetheart, he still hasn't offered to drop me off home after school. I'm impatiently waiting for the thought to cross his mind but it if it has, he never asks. And I don't know how long I can stand Wanda's constant break downs and low rumblings whenever Jack starts the engine.
I dump my bag by the door and race upstairs to change out of my clothes. I start to lift up the hem of my shirt but think better of it. I walk over to my window and close the curtains, just in case a pair of green eyes are watching. I get undressed and as soon as I'm getting my baggy, comfy clothes over my head, the doorbell rings.
I tug on my clothes and make my way downstairs to the front door. I don't remember ever inviting guests coming over tonight. My mum is out still working so she can't be expecting anyone either.
I open the front door and at first I don't see anyone, but then I look down to see a little black haired kid with gleaming blue eyes.
"Hey Max." I smile to hide my surprise. He grins all big and toothy and he shows me a large tin full with biscuits and cookies.
"I cooked them!" He tells me proudly and I beam. His pronunciation of the work 'cooked' sounds a little bit like 'cwooked' and I find him adorable. I shut the door behind me and step forward.
"They look great," I tell him with exaggerated surprise. He grins and I notice a fat man dressed in a white cooking apron, standing on my stairs that lead to my porch. He looks to be in his middle thirties and has a large potbelly. He's got a lit cigarette dangling from his lips.
With confusion in my voice, I address him, "excuse me, hi."
He glares at me and then says, "he wouldn't shut up about seeing you, Harry's friend. I figured if he saw you it would keep him quite for a while."
I'm taken back by the man's tone. He must be hating life or something because Max is the cutest thing in the world and he's acting like he hates the kid. I look down at Max and he doesn't seem to notice what the fat man is saying. He just meets my eyes and hugs my waist.
I affectionately lay a hand on Max's black locks and smile down at him. He steps back and hands me the cookies.
"These are for you," he says shyly, his big blue eyes twinkling. I accept the tin and bob down to his height.
"Thank you, Max," I gush, "hey, where's Harry? Who's looking after you?" Not that I care about the cheeky bastard, I just have no idea what this old fat guy means to Max and as far as I know, Harry is Max's only guardian.
I look up to meet the old guy's sneering face. "I'm the one looking after him, okay? I'm the one stuck with him whilst Harry's out."
My face reddens at his rudeness, "oh."
"I'm the cook," he tells me like I should already know this. I nod my head and stare at Max. I feel so sorry for him. Why on earth would Harry leave him alone with this old fart? I stand and take Max's hand in one and the tin of cookies in the other.
"Wanna go have a picnic in Harry's backyard?" I figure since Harry isn't home and the cook doesn't want Max around, I'll take care of him. I'm not really doing anything, plus I can do homework later.
Max seems to like the idea of this. He nods his head vigorously and pulls me back towards the house which he came from. The cook flicks his smoke to the ground and stubs it out before following us.
When we get into the house, the cook gruffly shows me where the blankets are kept in the massive mansion and Max and I, accompanied with Max's battered superhero action figure called Mr Man, make our way out into Harry's green backyard. I spread open the blanket and let it fall over the grass.
Max happily jumps on it and starts laying out the fruit and other foods that we managed to find on our way through the house. I chuck the tin of cookies down and sit next to Max. He and I start making our way through the food.
"How old are you?" I ask him through a mouthful of cookie.
"Five. But I'm nearly six" He grins and I can see all the bits of apple in his teeth. I laugh and tell him he's got food in his teeth and he just frowns and puffs up his cheeks.
"Can you guess how old I am?" I ask and he leans forward and studies me impassively for a minute before finally coming up with an answer.
"Twenty."
I roll my eyes and laugh, "try sixteen."
We talk for what seems like hours. Max tells me about the adventures that he and Mr Man get up to and I tell him about the life of a high schooler. It doesn't seem to appeal to him although. He screwed his nose up when I spoke of the large amount of work that I do and the little amount of free time that I get.
We headed in after it begun to get dark. I had called mum to let her know where I was. Now Max and I wait here in the kitchen until Harry gets home. I managed to find some paper and pencils and we're sitting in a comfortable silence, drawing.
"Hey Max," I start, looking up from my crap drawing of a lion, "where's your mum?" Max's blue eyes don't look up at me.
"She's at home," he informs me. A little crease forming between his brow as he concentrates on colouring in his drawn superhero on the piece of paper in front of him. I frown but continue on.
"Yeah? Why are you here then?" I ask him casually, trying to fix up the scraggy mane on my lion.
"Cause," and then he shrugs rolls his head back and forth on his shoulders because he doesn't know. I watch him with a concerned frown but I don't push it, I'll ask Harry later.
Thinking of Harry...
"Hey, what do you think of Harry?" I ask and he grins.
"He's really fun," Max tells me happily, "he lets me stay here." This takes me by surprise. He actually likes Harry? I thought him and cook hated the kid. Judging by the way they treat him.
"Do you like it here?" I ask Max. May as well get the kid's input, I mean, who could be possibly be more trusting and honest?
Max nods his dark haired head and grins up at me, "I love it here." Again, I am surprised. Max likes it here? Why on earth would he?
Oh shut up Mia, you're just being obnoxious and you don't know anything about how things are here. A voice at the back of my head whispers to my head and I tell it to go away.
"Really?" My eyebrows fly up and he nods again. "Yeah. I get to play all day and mummy's boyfriends aren't here."
What? I frown and then I kinda see what's being said between the lines. There's a minute of silence between us as the wheels in my head begin to turn. I drop my pencil onto my page and lean in towards to Max and grasp his hand in mine.
"Max," I say, concern laced in my voice, "Max," I say again and shake his hand when he doesn't look up. When he does, his gaze is totally devoid of any sadness and fear. It's humble and unworried. He's happy right now and I wonder if I'm even allowed to get wrapped up in this, it's probably not even my problem. But I gotta know. For the sake of Max.
"Baby, what do you mean? Don't you like being at home?" My hand tightens on Max's when he just shrugs and goes back to drawing.
"Max, tell me please. Your mum's boyfriends, why don't you like them. What do they do?" Desperation's getting thick in my throat. What did they do? I swear to the Lord, if they've fucking touched him.
"They're mean," Max mumbles, almost ashamed of what he's saying. I lose my breath for a second. I should not be pushing this subject, I should not. You are not in the right position to worry for Max. He's not your problem to worry about, I tell myself this over and over. But fucking curse myself, I continue.
"What do they do?" My voice is a hushed whisper and Max looks like he's gonna answer but then the door opens and closes behind someone. Max shrinks back in his seat and let's go of my hand and starts furiously colouring his cartoon superhero. Totally ignoring me.
I stand as Harry comes into the room. He sees me and his brow creases in question. He's dressed in jeans and looks like he's just been at a formal party or something. He's wearing a blazer over a navy printed shirt and he's actually tried to do something with his unruly curls.
Harry looks between Max and I. With my hand covering my mouth and a horrible expression in my eyes.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asks, confusion in his eyes.
I don't say anything, I just walk over to him and tug on his arm, leading him into the next room. I need to speak with him. I need to understand.
I pull him into the living room and ask quite rudely, "who does Max belong to?" Harry's face draws together in a taken back expression.
"How is he related to you?" I snap out another question.
"He's my cousin's son," he tells me, his brows furrowing. "Can I ask why you're asking me these things?"
My hand flies to my forehead in stress. What am I doing? I feel like crying, but yet I know that I have no right to. I've known Max for pretty much two days, he is none of my concern. Harry's looking at me strange, his green eyes staring into mine filled with suspicion.
"Where's his mum? Why is he here and not his mum?" I'm rambling a little. Maybe a lot.
"His mum is dealing with stuff at home. Mia, why are you asking this?" Harry's starting to look a little less suspicious and little more angry. And I'm slowly losing it.
"Stuff at home!?" I gasp hysterically, running a hand through my hair, "is that why Max is here and not with her? Cause she's dealing with stuff at home?" I can honestly say that at this point, that I have no idea where I'm going with this and what I'm saying. But I know it's too late to not back down about this topic now.
"I don't think that's any of your business." Harry's definitely angry now. His eyes are a stormy green and his figure is stiffening and growing more still by the second.
"I came here today to hang out with Max today after I got back from school. We were talking and I asked about you." I'm being truthful and not really comprehending what I'm saying.
"I wanted to know what Max thought of you. I wanted to know what you're like at home and towards him."
"Don't you think questioning a naive five year old boy is a little desperate?" Harry drawls, tension zapping in the air around us. I wince when I realise what I said and then I start to feel angry.
"Well I didn't really have a choice did I? I have no idea what you're really like because I don't know anything about you," I bite back and Harry laughs humourlessly.
"Not that I didn't give you an opportunity to learn about me before. I did ask you out, remember?" We're about a foot apart and so close to yelling over the top of each other. I can feel Harry's anger rolling off him in waves. It's very intimating and normally I would be to afraid to stand up to him but in this situation, I'm near to losing everything all together.
"That's not the point!" I snap, "what's happening with Max's mum? Why are you looking after him whilst his mother is-"
"What did you ask him?" Harry interrupts me, "what did he say to make you so fired up?" His eyes are burning right into me. I have to crane my neck to see him and he has to look down. I feel sick to the stomach. I have already made my mind up about what has happened to Max due to Harry's defensive attitude when it came to this topic of his cousin.
"I think Max has been abused by his mother's previous partners," I blurt out and then freeze under Harry's raging stare.
What the fuck am I doing!?
Harry doesn't say anything for a while and I know I've crossed a line. I feel like I'm going to vomit, I feel that bad. Who would ever want to hurt that beautiful, beautiful boy?
"Is this true?" Even though I am completely and entirely in out of my depth, I continue. And I don't know why. Harry's stare makes me want to cringe but I hold strong.
"Fine, I'll tell you," Harry spits, "because I can see that this is clearly eating you up." His tone drips with venom and I inwardly shudder at his dark, scary voice.
"His mum, my cousin, always had a taste for the wrong type in men. They'd hit her, they'd hit the kid. They'd throw plates, slap and beat the shit out of both of them." I wince at the images that flow through my mind.
But Harry continues like he doesn't notice my obvious discomfort, "Max doesn't know his dad and neither does Natalie. She moves in and out of relationships all the time but really they're just all the same. Low, sick, twisted men who aren't worth shit. But this time round, Nat can't get out. She's dealing with a psychopath who's threatened the life of both her and Max. She's finally gotten smart though and decided to get the police evolved."
I'm staring at the ground when he finishes. I did not expect this. Anything else but this. "Is that why Max is staying here with you?" I ask quietly.
"Yes. She's been leaving him in my care until she gets her shit sorted out."
I'm out of it. I had no idea that this is going on in Harry's life. To be honest I feel like this is a movie, I just am so unaccustomed to side this of life. I've always been raised in the right neighbourhood with the right people. I've never had to deal with money problems and family problems before. Well, besides the crap with my dad but I hardly think that counts.
Harry laughs a mean laugh. "Look at your face," he spits, "finally getting a glimpse of what I go through everyday. Does it make you feel better about yourself? Makes you feel like you're more superior to me right?"
I frown and step away from him. What's he on about? Superior? No, Harry. I'm surprised, and worried. For the first time since I've ever known him, I feel his hatred. I feel his disgust and spite and it's directed at me.
"Harry.." I trial off at the sight of his menacing glare.
"Don't come here, to my house. Thinking you have a right to worry about Max or any of our family problems. He is here because he needs me. And I swear, if anyone lays another hand on him or hurts him in anyway, I'll kill them." Harry's furious. As furious as I've ever seen him. And I'm embarrassed and shocked.
I'm about to cry, I'm that sorry. I open my mouth to apologise but then Max enters the room. Harry and both swing our heads to look at him and he shyly runs towards me. He wraps his arms around my waist and hugs me.
I look down at him in clear shock and I can feel Harry's glare burning into the side of my face. Max beams up at me and shows me the drawing of his superhero and two other characters on either side of him who resemble misshaped potatoes.
"It's me and you," he points to the picture, "and Mr Man." He's grinning so proudly at his work and I feel so sad. Seriously, if someone does hurt him again, I'll probably have to join Harry on the killing spree.
Harry bends down and speaks to Max in a soft voice, "hey, Max. Do you wanna go help Maurice cook dinner? Mia was just leaving." He glares at me again and I nod stiffly. Max yells goodbye as he runs out of the room, leaving the picture loosely dangling in my hand.
Harry looks at me again and I get the picture. He walks me towards the front door and shuts it behind me, leaving me standing outside in the warm sultry night air.
I have never felt like such an idiot.

Notes

All credit goes to doily