Max

Prom.

Just one word and I bet you're already either reminiscing or anticipating depending on where you are in your life. I don't know what it is about it that gets everyone so hyped up. It's a dance. One that requires me to get all spruced up in some itchy rental of a suit worn by every other high schooler attempting to play a part.

You know what else is absolutely ridiculous? Promposal. What the hell is that? I thought proposing was a one time deal in my life. Something I haven't even begun to think about. Why would I? Something as personal and meaningful as that deserves to be saved for the one girl who inspires your heart to take that leap.

But prom? My heart isn't doing shit. It's beating right along its normal rhythm just like it does every other day. It's exactly why Emily Whethers gave me an eye roll when I casually leaned beside her locker and asked her if she wanted to go with me. I had heard, or rather was told, she wanted me to ask her, so that's exactly what I did.

Here's the deal, I'm only a sophomore. I don't belong at prom. But when one of the hottest seniors wants you to take her, you take her. But I wasn't about to pull out the fancy works just so she could take a picture for social media with my name, or more accurately, my last name attached to it. Nope. I'm not a publicity stunt.

Don't get me wrong, I love my dad and the fact that he's given me the gift of talent on the basketball court. I really do. But being Tyler Hayes' son carries an unspoken expectation behind it. Or maybe it's spoken.

Sports Center couldn't seem to stop replaying my game winning shot in the seventh grade. One my dad posted on social media out of pride. He was just a dad, showing off an exciting moment in his kid's life. I think he forgot how many eyes would spin that into a protégé story.

I shouldn't be complaining. Fact of the matter is, Emily said yes without all of the lame theatrics. Because the last name Hayes will be tied to every photo she posts. And so, here I am, coated in a penguin suit, looking like every other dude tonight. It's just sometimes, it would be nice just to be an ordinary kid again. A nobody. A regular sophomore that a senior far out of my league isn't chasing to be her date.

As I close the last button on my shirt, my eyes drift over to the bow tie laying across my bed. Another reason why prom seems to be more of a chore than an actual joy.

"Wow. You look so handsome," my mom says from my door with a brightly lit smile and a small tear already forming in her eye. She steps forward, taking the bowtie from my hands.

"I pictured these days a lot when you were little. The big moments in your life." I would hardly call this a big moment in my life. "And I always wondered how long it would only be you and me." That tear she was holding onto falls now. She's quick to swipe it away, looking down to hide the emotions swirling through her.

The thing is, I wondered those same things. How many events I'd experience in life without him by my side, without a father. "Mom," I whisper as I lift her face back up to meet mine. "I know he missed a lot, but I never felt alone. I never felt incomplete. You made sure of that. You are an amazing mother."

She quickly swings her arms around me, providing that warm blanket of support only my mom has ever given me. Maybe this day doesn't mean a whole lot to me, but it clearly means something to her. And that, well that has it carrying a lot more weight than I had originally thought.

"Am I interrupting a moment?" my dad's voice glides into the space around us, my mom not breaking the hold she has around me.

"Yes, you are," she says against my chest, causing both my dad and me to laugh. "But go ahead," she lightly exhales as she pulls away from me, her fingers dabbing at the wet streaks below her eyes.

"Dang son," my dad says now, taking a step inside. "You clean up good."

"So I've heard." I smirk, grabbing my jacket and swinging it on to complete the look, giving it a slight tug at the ends to straighten it out.

"But, uh," he continues, his expression falling to a much more solemn look. "Sam's here."

My heart stops. All jokes and sentimental shit aside. Sam doesn't just casually drop by, and he sure as heck isn't interested in seeing me all spruced up for prom. I haven't talked to Liv today, but I know she was spreading her mom's ashes today.

"What happened?" The words come out frantic, accusation laced between. At who, I don't know, but I have this undeniable feeling something isn't right.

My dad takes a breath, his hand coming out in front of me, an attempt to keep me calm. One that has me gaining more worry.

"I don't know. I just know he's looking for Olivia. Hoping she might be here or that you might know where she could be."

He's barely finished his sentence before I'm leaping past him, flying down the hall to where Sam is now pacing the living room. I can hear my parents' footsteps behind me but the sounds seem so far away.

I don't have anything to go on right now. All I know is Liv has been going through the motions all week. She's been going to school, returning home, and sometimes joining me back along the fence. Those are the moments I'm sorting through right now.

Did she say anything? Hint at anything? What the hell happened that he can't find her?

"Sam," I nearly shout as I come pummeling into the room. "What happened?"

"Max," he says, taking a step forward with his eyes now locked on me. The clear panic behind them does nothing to calm me. "Have you talked to Olivia?"

"No. What happened?" I ask again.

He takes a breath. "She took my car and left earlier today. We were supposed to spread her mom's ashes but she hasn't returned. She isn't answering her phone either. I've checked the Snack Shack, the dock, Ryder's. Shit," he lets out a deep breath, his hand running down his pale face. He looks like he might throw up. "I don't know where she could have gone."

I have a feeling I know exactly where she is. She wanted to escape, to breathe. There's only one place she can do that without being found. At least by anyone else.

"I might have an idea." His eyes light up. "But I'm going alone. She ran for a reason."

He steps forward, but I ignore the urgency in his movement. "Max, I've got to find her. To be there. To let her know–"

"I know," I cut him off. "I know you care, Sam. But you know if she disappeared, it's for a reason."

He's quiet. Watching me as that glint of worry filters through his eyes.

"Yeah." He nods now, taking a small step back. "Yeah, you're right."

I nod once, taking one brief look back at my parents. They don't say anything. My dad's arm clings around my mom as they look with knowing stares.

I don't waste one more second as I turn, taking three long strides past him and grabbing my keys from beside the door.

"But Max?" he questions as I swing the door open. "Make sure she knows I love her. And that I'm here. Can you do that?"

I don't know what the hell happened, but I do know one thing. Sam is a good person with a damn heart of gold. But I also know Liv. I know she shuts down, pushes us all away when she's hurting.

"Yeah, Sam." I nod again. "I'll let her know."

***

I pull up to the cliff, Sam's car parked along the bottom. My heart is in this weird pattern of beats. It's frantic and worried, pounding against my rib cage. But it's also relieved. Heating the walls within my chest at knowing she's actually here.

I exit my truck, quietly closing the door and quickly beginning my ascent to the top. As I round the corner, the waves of brown capture my entire throbbing chest. She's here. Seeing her, knowing without a doubt that she's actually here, and knowing how much damn pain she's in, has me launching forward.

"You finally decide to jump and you leave me behind?" I ask, attempting to add a small smile to her face, even if it is a brief one.

Her eyes glance over to mine, but they're not the eyes I'm used to seeing. They're brimmed in red, those pretty halos of hers clouded over and dark. My body reacts, crashing to the ground beside her and wrapping her up in my arms. She doesn't hesitate. Her body is against mine without pause, falling against me as her face burrows into my chest.

The thing about Liv is she believes that hiding is easier than being seen. She would prefer to bury her pain, to cover it up and shield it from everyone around her. And though I've always been able to see around her walls, she doesn't easily drop them. Right now, every blockade she's ever erected is down. She's completely crumbling, and I just want to be able to put her back together.

"What happened?" I whisper against her soft hair.

Her fingers clutch to my back as her tears begin soaking through the front of my shirt. "I've been happy, Max," she exhales between silent cries.

"I know," I acknowledge her admission as I continue to hold her tightly in my arms. "I know you have, Liv. But that doesn't mean you can't still be hurting. That you can't keep hoping for more."

Her grasp along my shirt loosens as she slowly pulls away from me, her tear filled eyes find mine. Even though she's breaking, she's still so goddamn beautiful as her eyes search mine.

"She left me," she cries. It's the first time I've seen the pain hit her eyes, the ache consuming her chest. "She promised she'd get better. And all this time, I held onto this tiny ounce of hope that she would. That I'd be enough for her to fight for. But she gave up. And I'm so...mad. I'm just so fucking mad at her." Her voice cracks, the shattering impact of her pain like a hammer to my own heart.

Earlier this week, she felt relief. Calm in the fact that she could finally move on from that glimmer of hope that her mom would come back. But now, that relief has manifested into something different. The realization that her mom is truly gone.

"Liv, it's okay to be angry. It's also okay to be sad."

"I'm not sad. How can I mourn someone who never wanted me in the first place?"

The agony that lies behind her gaze shatters my chest. It grips my heart and holds it hostage. Her tears fall, each and every one an anthem to the pain that echoes in my chest.

"I don't know how all of this works, Liv," I say, wiping away the tears that stain her cheeks. "But I do know that you deserve to feel whatever you want. If it's relief, then feel it. All of it. Be free. If it's anger. Good. Let it out. Be mad. Scream, throw something, break things. Embrace it." She watches me, her eyes so goddamn perfect as she waits on my next set of words.

"And if it's sorrow," I continue. "Then cry. Cry until there are no tears left to shed. Because whether she was the mom you wanted her to be or not, she was still your mom. And you loved her. Despite all her flaws, you loved her. It's okay to love someone broken. It's okay to wish they weren't, to wish they were better. And it's okay to feel every emotion like a yo-yo. Just let yourself feel, Liv. Don't lock it up in some box you think the world expects you to build."

She's watching me, letting my words fall around her. Her unsteady breaths get caught in the cool breeze as she gathers her thoughts.

"I did love her," she admits. "And it hurts to know she's gone. It hurts a whole lot." She cries, her head against my shoulder as I squeeze her against me.
"I know," I whisper, placing a gentle kiss against her head.

She's quiet again. Her tears ease as her shoulders slowly rise and fall with every breath.

"And, Liv?" Her eyes drift back to mine, guarded by the silky brown shield of her hair. I reach for the free strands covering her face as I pull them away, tucking them behind her ear. I want to be able to see her, for her to be seen. She isn't someone who should ever be hidden. "You're not just enough, you're everything worth fighting for."

There's a small pull of air through her slightly parted lips. One that I can't help but let my eyes fall to see. We're close, again. That same urge to feel those soft lips against mine fills me. The same feeling I had on her birthday. How badly I want to know what she feels like, tastes like.

But I don't move. Instead, I force my eyes back to hers. She's hurting right now. Which means now isn't the time I get to discover the rhythm of her lips. But for the first time, I'm beginning to realize just how badly I desire the intimate caress of her body against mine.

And that thought right there has me absolutely terrified.

"Wait," her eyes quickly glance down at my chest, pulling me from the terrifying thoughts now coming to light. She drags those eyes of hers down further before bouncing back to meet my eyes again. "You're in your suit. What time is it?"

"It doesn't matter."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter? Max, you're going to be late," she insists, her hands frantically wiping away any last pieces of evidence from the tears left there.

"I'm already late." I shrug, letting her know it doesn't matter, not anymore.

"What? Why are you sitting here listening to my blubbering story when you should be at prom?"

"I'm exactly where I want to be."

"Max. It's prom," she insists as she drops her eyes. "You should be there, not sitting on this cliff with me wasting a perfectly good suit."

She's right. I am wasting a perfectly good suit. I quickly jump to my feet, her eyes trailing my sudden movement. My hand falls in front of her. "Olivia Wyatt, will you dance with me?"

"What? No."

I didn't expect any other answer to fall from her lips but somehow, I still can't seem to hold the laugh from falling. "Come on, Liv. You said it yourself, I can't go wasting a perfectly good suit."

She shakes her head, her eyes moving from the highly uncomfortable shoes I'm wearing up to the spiffy bow tie I seem to be nailing right now.

"How is dancing on the edge of this cliff preserving the integrity of that suit?"

Simple. "I wore it to dance. If we dance, it's served its purpose."

She shakes her head. She's definitely not going to make this easy. It's a good thing I love a challenge.

"There's no music," she tries to exclaim.

My eyes only light up at what she says. My hand extends further as I bend slightly toward her. "When has that ever been a problem for us?"

The bright green halo I constantly seek lights back up, a slight smile fighting to escape her. She doesn't say anything though. Instead, she places that silky hand of hers in mine, grasping tightly as I pull her up.

She gently falls against my chest, her arms so naturally draping around my neck as my hands fall to the small of her back. I pull her in, feeling her flush against me. My heart continues its beat, the one it's created specifically for her. She smells sweet, like sugar and honey. The tendrils of her hair slightly sway across her back, sending a subtle chill across my skin. I drop my head to her ear, savoring this very moment.

And then I begin to sway. I begin to move us just slightly as I sing. I sing loud enough for her to hear, using the sounds of the flowing water beneath us and the rustling of the trees to provide the softest melody.

Her fingers slide along my neck, gliding into my hair as she pulls herself even closer, nestling her face against my chest. The warmth of her chest against mine radiates across my rib cage, sparking something inside my heart, igniting it.

It's in this very moment, in the soft feel of her fingers along my skin, in the gentle breaths playing across my chest, and in the way her heart beats steadily against mine that I know, without a doubt, that this girl is the only one I ever want to dance with.

~~~

Hello! For those of you who are returning readers for this rewrite, how are you enjoying the changes so far? How is the back and forth, then and now working for you? Does it flow okay?

Thank you for being here, whether it's your first read or second of this story. I truly appreciate it and I am always open to suggestions, so please feel free to reach out with any questions or comments!

Thank you!

❤️Amanda