Max - Bey Deckard Page 0,2

or out of the loony bin on holiday. That is what you’re asking me to do.”

Crane was disturbed by the way Max’s gaze held his, but he couldn’t look away. It was like all of his reactions were being categorized and filed away in Max’s lizard brain. At that moment, he realized that Max would do it and send Eddie away if he asked him again. But if Crane did that, he would be responsible for… responsible for what? He blinked, trying to hide his unease from the young man sitting across from him.

In a flash, Max’s face split into the friendly smile that seemed to be his default expression, and he pulled himself to his feet. There was a pulse of fear in Crane’s gut at the sudden proximity—tiny, but it was there.

“Time’s up!” said Max cheerfully.

Sure enough, with a glance to his watch, Crane saw it was three thirty. He rose out of his chair, towering over his dark-haired patient. He was more flustered and tense than after any of his other consults.

“See you next week,” Crane managed, and Max made a double clicking noise with one side of his mouth, like he was chastising Crane for being unnerved.

It was also the same noise that Crane had heard people use to call their dogs. A seed of anger took root inside him, but he kept a calm smile on his face even though Max gave a little nod, like he could see right through his pretense.

Reaching for the doorknob, Max threw a look over his shoulder. “I’ll do them all in reverse next week, just for fun,” he said with a wink. Then he was gone.

Crane looked down at the page where he’d been keeping track of Max’s tics. He slowly tore it out of his notebook, crumpled it up, and threw it in the garbage. Looking out at the bright sun, he was struck with the urge to cancel his next appointment and bike home, simply to see Mary’s smile.

2

Common Ground

Monday, June 20th

Crane smiled as Max sat down across from him. They were supposed to be in the same therapy room as their first session, but he had found Debra, the receptionist, having lunch in it when Max arrived. Crane shifted a little in his seat and chided himself for not simply telling her he had booked the office instead of abdicating and taking the empty one at the back of the clinic—this one was cramped and musty smelling, and the chairs uncomfortable. No wonder it was always free.

Grow a backbone. Five weeks working at the clinic and he had yet to find his stride—he felt like the bumbling newcomer, still wet behind the ears.

Max crossed his legs and leaned back. Steepling his fingers, he returned Crane’s smile.

“Are you going somewhere after this?” asked Crane as he opened his notebook on his lap.

Max’s brown curls were tamed, and he was wearing a black button-down with a tie, black pants, and polished square-toed dress shoes. He looked down at himself and frowned. When he met Crane’s eye again, his expression was one of amusement.

“Nah.”

The tone was friendly, but Crane felt the same strange tension as the previous week. He was being made to feel stupid for asking, even though it was a valid question—the last time he had seen Max, he had been dressed in old jeans and jackboots. Crane gritted his teeth and stared down at the blank page for a moment.

“So… How was your week?” he finally asked, smoothing out his expression as he glanced back up.

Max’s dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he contemplated the question. “Oh… It was okay. Didn’t get up to much.”

Crane nodded and jotted down the date. “And your level of stress?”

This time Max’s brows pinched above his nose, and Crane wondered if the uncertainty he saw in his face was sincere.

“I… don’t know,” said Max. “That’s the problem. By the time I’m able to recognize that I’m stressed, it’s pretty bad.”

“What are you feeling now?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Max’s face split into a wide grin, and he let out a laugh. Crane found it a little startling the way his expressions changed suddenly.

“Nothing is a simplification of what I’m feeling at this exact moment. Yes, I feel something. No, I don’t know what it is.”

“Can you describe it?”

Max’s expression went pensive. “My heart is beating faster than it normally does. My shoulders hurt, which I’m going to attribute to tension. Sometimes, I feel like I need to take an extra breath.” He sounded