Burnout - Coralee June Page 0,69
Maximillian’s company, and I didn’t want to blur our dynamic with his hopes and my realities.
I’d make an exception just this once. “If you’re not game, no problem. I can have a good time by myself,” I replied with a shrug before shoving my messenger bag into my locker and slamming it shut. I wouldn’t need it today.
“Oh, no, no, no. I’m going with you. I’ve got just the place in mind, too,” he replied before putting his arm over my shoulders and hugging me close. “I’ll drive, okay?”
We walked down the hall, with Maximillian’s arm still wrapped around my shoulders and a wild grin on my face. I was looking forward to the day. When I had first woken up, Mama’s birthday had haunted me. It made me sick. Maybe it was wrong to spend the day getting drunk in her memory, but I wasn’t willing to sit around and mope.
The bell rang, and we continued to walk, and as we passed Decker’s classroom, I glanced inside. I was met with the dark, steel eyes. It was a brief flash, a slight moment in time that seemed to last forever but couldn’t have been more than three seconds. His eyes lingered on how Maximillian held me, and I saw the confusion in his expression. We should’ve been in class by then.
I watched his mouth open and close in indecision for a flash, but we were out of eyesight long before he could make up his mind. Decker probably knew we were up to something, but it would go against our promise to be nothing if he stopped and asked me about it. So instead, we made our way to the parking lot, leaving thoughts of our broody teacher behind.
Maximillian drove a Honda Accord. He was pretty popular around this place, so I was surprised to see that he drove such a mundane car. I liked it. It almost normalized him. “Where we going?” I asked while sinking into the seats, which smelled like AXE Body Spray. He adjusted the rearview mirror before flipping through the radio channels, pausing on a country-western station that blared music Mama would’ve enjoyed through the speakers.
“It’s a surprise. Just leave it to me, okay?” he said with a grin.
It felt nice to have someone take the reins for once, and I was okay with letting him make the decisions. “Okay,” I replied while biting the inside of my cheek. I sunk further into my seat and fought the first real smile I’d felt in weeks from breaching my face.
This would be interesting.
“You can’t be serious,” I said while staring down at the chocolate cake in front of me. We were at a bakery, and Maximillian was sitting across from me with his phone out, prepared to record the embarrassment.
“It’s a smash cake, Blakely. Eat it.” His order was full of mirth, and I stared longingly at the silverware he had tucked in his shirt pocket.
“It’s not even my birthday,” I replied with a chuckle before dipping my index finger into the moist cake and picking up a dollop of icing. “I don’t understand why I have to do this.”
There wasn’t anyone at the bakery with us, so it wasn’t too bad. Max had been doing a stellar job of distracting me thus far. I thought I wanted a wild night, but everything so far had been wholesome. He drove me to the aquarium, to lunch at his favorite fast-food restaurant, and now to this bakery, for me to do this smash cake. He was making today all about me, and it was healing in a way.
“It’ll be fun. I promise not to show the video to anyone else, but maybe it’ll help you get some of your frustration out. There’s nothing like stuffing your face with something yummy to help cool off,” Max said with a chuckle.
Rolling my eyes, I grabbed a handful of cake and shoved it in my mouth, making sure to smear the chocolate icing along my chin and lips in the process. Damn. That was a good cake. Maximillian was laughing as I dove in for another bite, this time forgoing my hands and just using my face. When I sat back up, I could feel bits of icing and cake stuck to my cheeks.
“Oh my gosh,” Max began. His words were short and choppy because laughter kept interrupting between each syllable. “You’re a mess.” I realized just then how playful this entire moment was. Decker might have made me