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805 Words
It was a quiet Tuesday. Students were walking around all giddy about junior prom. This was going to be the night of legend before we became adults. We were forced to be seniors in our last year, of course. It was all really propaganda. The school year was close to an end and students were looking for a way to celebrate it.
I stare at my red Jacket with the symbol of our school, still unsure if I am worthy of it. It just sits there awkwardly in my locker, like a safety net for me to go back to.
I try wearing it a few times at home but it feels like it's way too big for me. Like someone else should be wearing it. The sleeve length is just ridiculous.
Max saw something in me. Whether it was my awkwardness or maybe my will to stand up for people... To this day I'll never know why Max Newcrest chose me.
In what words could I describe him? I honestly have no words for him. Black hair, green eyes, great jawline. The amount of girls that were after him was insane. Walking next to him was like walking next to a God. Just something totally out of this world. The people around him were his family. Even if he changed girlfriends every week, he protected those girls with his life. They'd always end up dumping him because he ruined their dynamic of sleeping for power.
Thinking back now, I probably never would have guessed what happened. I don't think Max can either. For some reason, Max chose me to be part of his team. His crew. He liked that I could defend myself and others. Some days he said it was because I kept the c-listers at bay. That was what he called girls who got attached way too fast.
The crazies if you will. I don't think I ever got a legitimate answer. Each time it changed. Each time I'd never believe him. The thing about Max was... He made you feel seen. Like all the bullshit you went through was finally over.
I place my jacket in my locker again, not sure if I should wear it or just chuck it somewhere. Max walks up to me, his moves graceful and full of swagger. Sometimes he didn't feel like a human at all. Max smiles his usual crooked grin smile. It was something the girls actually liked. That and his curled head of hair.
"I don't think that jacket was given to you just so you could neglect it like that Rye. Poor thing is being used as a dishcloth"
I roll my eyes at his nickname for me, an attempt to soften me up and wear that piece of cloth he calls a jacket.
"I'm not wearing that thing. It shines some sort of stereotypical light on me that I don't want. "
Max shrugs and rolls up his sleeves. He usually did that right when he was gonna beat the s**t out of someone.
"Go to the curb in two minutes. There's a little welcome to the team gift. Orchestrated by yours truly. "
I didn't know whether to be terrified or excited by that last part. Initiation usually meant something vile like beating up some random kid or stabbing the tires of one of the teachers. It was a stupid tradition, really. One based on showing off your skills. I sigh as I know what's coming. Max wanted me to go out to the curb to beat some innocent kid. His referring to it as a gift made it even worse.
"Max.. You know I don't do that anymore... It hurts people. You know it does. And if anyone sees-
" Relax. This isn't my first time you know. If anything happens.. I'll just trip the fire alarm again. Boy was that a good day"
I sigh and walk with him, taking my jacket and slinging it over my shoulder. There was just no arguing with Max. Once he made up his mind, nothing could change it.
I'm not proud to say that I did beat up an innocent kid. And yes that kid had severe injuries. So bad that his parents wanted to sue. Although Max made it go away. With the amount of power his family had, they could make anything go away.
Every little mistake you ever made. Of course, Maxwell needed a favor in return every time. Thinking back I probably should have seen what kind of person he was. What he's been capable of.
Although I couldn't see it. Because I wanted to see the good in him. Because he saw me. Out of everyone he picked me to be his best friend.
Boy, did he later wish he had never made that mistake?
- Writer
