Max

I've never seen anything like what I saw yesterday. Coming home from that, listening to Liv when she told me to leave, messed with my head. I should have stayed. I should have gotten help. The look in Liv's eyes told me to keep my mouth shut though. She's done so well at hiding what's behind those doors, and it's pretty clear she's been doing it for a reason.

When a small knock at my window fills the silence I've come to build over the last few hours, I spring forward. As I pull back the curtains, that cocky smile is already playing across her face. A smile that tells me all is good, for now. I'm beginning to see though, that all is most definitely not good. That smirk she likes to play around with is beginning to look a lot more like a mask than confidence. Or maybe confidence is always a mask, used to cover up the things we all have hidden within us.

I check my door one more time just to make sure I don't hear my parents walking about before I slide the window open. She barges in, foot lifting to the sill of the window before she even bothers to ask for permission.

She walks to my bed, conveniently making herself at home as she plops down. Her chestnut hair is falling into her face, her baggy sweatshirt covering her, hiding her.

"Morning," she smiles, taking in the surroundings of my room.

I pause by the open window, still trying to steady my thoughts about what happened. She's chosen not to have friends, and it's clear now that there's a much darker reason for that.

"Liv," I breathe out, taking a small step forward.

"Why so serious?" she plays, her voice dropping to mimic the Joker.

I take another deep breath, approaching the bed to sit beside her. She watches me carefully, her eyes following my movements. 

"Liv, is it always like that?" I ask, my eyes searching for those halos of hers.

"Like what?" she questions, looking away as she quickly stands to reach for one of my trophies. "You have a lot of these. Are they worth anything or just all participation trophies?"

I stand from the bed to join her, ignoring her attempt to change the subject, again. "Was she..." I search for the thoughts. I don't know a lot about what I saw, but I have seen movies. Whatever was going on wasn't normal. I at least know that much. "Was she drunk or something?"

"You know," she begins, making her way to my guitar now. "Not many athletes also play an instrument. It's almost like you've got this whole split persona thing going on. Should I be careful not to make you angry, big guy?"

"Does that happen a lot with your mom?" I ask, continuing to pry until one of the questions stick.

"Actually," she spins around to face me, "I think I just figured you out. You're torn aren't you? Between ball and music? I mean, it would totally make sense. Basketball gives you something in common with your dad. Keeps you connected with a man you are just now getting to know. But I've seen you play guitar. That's what you really want isn't it?"

She's deflecting. And she's observant as all heck, I'll give her that. But I ignore her investigation and take a step closer. "I'll take all of this as a yes. How bad does it get?"

"But you'll never put music first, will you?" she continues. "You're going to choose basketball because it will mean you're just like him. Proves that time was never an obstacle, that you really are his son. I guess that makes you more Troy Bolton than the Hulk."

The fact that she's somehow seen into a deep corner of my mind is frightening. Only thing is, I see her too.

"Yes," I reply, giving her a short victory. "If it comes down to it, I'll choose basketball to be close to the man I spent my whole life only dreaming about."

She smiles, more to herself than to me. But it's not long before that smile falls, when her eyes slowly roll up to mine. The playfulness is gone, replaced by something much more real. Something I don't know that I'm ready to hear, but I want to.

"It happens a lot," she whispers, the words fighting to stay locked inside.

I don't move, worried it might scare her back into avoidance. "What's a lot, Liv?"

She lets the quiet settle between us, neither one of us moving. "Often enough," she finally replies.

"What is it exactly that happens?" I don't know if I've asked too much, if my next question will be the one that causes her to throw her walls back up. But I can't unsee what happened yesterday, and I can't just let her tackle it alone, not anymore.

Her head begins to shake back and forth, this inner battle she appears to be fighting begins to surface. I can see it. The struggle to keep it hidden, the war that rips her apart each and every day.

"I can't," her voice barely escapes, a tear falling down her cheek now. I never thought I would ever see this girl cry. All I've ever seen is a tough exterior, one that she's worn as armor.

I take a quick step forward, ignoring the space she's delicately placed between us. "Whatever it is," I begin. "I think it's time you share it with someone else."

Her head begins to shake again, the pain lacing across her features. The halos that fascinate me begin to fade, clouded over by something I don't quite understand. I'm not ready for something like this. I am way out of my league right now and yet I can't seem to stop helping her break free.

"It's just me, Liv. The boy who you saw on the Buddy Bench. The very one who you sang with on the dock. It's just me."

Her breaths are heavy, the weight on her shoulders holding her down, rooting her in place in front of me. But then I see it, the slight nod of her head as more tears cascade down her cheeks.

"It wasn't always like this. It didn't start getting bad until she needed the drugs to..." she stops herself, her eyes searching mine, continuing to seek the trust in me she desperately needs. "She needs the drugs to numb what she does to survive...to be willing to use herself to put food on the table."

I don't quite understand what she's saying. Use herself?

"Liv, I don't—"

"I can't actually say the words, Max," she begins to shake her head again. She's trying to crawl back into that cave of hers, but I won't let her.

"Okay," I quickly acknowledge. "You don't have to. So, she's addicted?"

"Yes. But she never intended to be. She needed them to do what she does, and eventually, they just...took over. But she's still in there," she quickly follows up with. "My mom. I get glimpses of her here and there. And I know she's going to get better. I just know it. She needs time. And I can do a lot of stuff. I keep the house clean, I get myself to school. In a couple years I can get a job and I can help. And maybe then—"

"Liv," I cut her off, her rambling beginning to steal her breath. "I don't think those things are your responsibility."

She takes a quick step back. "What do you even know? Your mom is perfect. Your dad is in the freaking NBA! You don't know what it's like to struggle and to fight like she has."

"I'm not saying—"

"No. You don't get to try and make her into the bad guy. She's doing this for me. All of it. She's doing it so I can have a home."

"That's not a home," the words leave my mouth before I can process the meaning behind them.

Her eyes widen, and I know I've made a mistake.

"I have to go," she says before shoving past me, flinging herself through the window.

"Liv, wait! I didn't mean that. I'm just trying to figure this out, to help you."

She turns sharply on her heel, the heated halos now digging into me. "You want to help? Show me I haven't misplaced my trust. Show me I wasn't a complete idiot for letting someone in."

My heart is doing something funny in my chest, my breathing taking on a weird pattern. "What exactly are you asking me?"

"I'm asking you," she takes a small step forward. "To keep this to yourself."

There it is. That moment in a friendship where you have to decide what is actually best. Not just best for keeping your friendship intact, but what's best for their wellbeing, even if that means what you have to do will completely crush everything you've built.

I don't know what the right thing to do is. But I can say that the next thing that comes out of my mouth is the biggest mistake I've made yet.

"I promise. I won't tell anyone."

***

I hate promises. It's been a week since I made that promise in my room. A whole week of harboring guilt over something I know will come crashing down. I ignore the weight of it all as Liv and I make our way down the hall of the school. Walking home together has become a bit of a routine.

Unfortunately, this little routine will be coming to an end. The big move to LA is this weekend. Part of me is excited to start over somewhere new, to see the life my dad has lived for so many years. There's something about the thought of diving head first into his world and experiencing it all alongside him that makes me hope it can become our world.

"Alright, if you could meet any fictional character, who would it be?" my far too energetic voice rolls out along with a ridiculous jump in my step.

"Are we seriously doing this right now?" Liv's halos peer back at me, the clear skepticism shooting daggers my way.

"Yep. We're really doing it. So, who would it be?"

We take a few more steps down the hall, making our way toward the front of the school.

"Yeah, I'm not playing that game," she insists.

I stop, causing her to pause as well, turning sharply on her heel as she lets out a deep exhale.

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because, who cares about imagining some ridiculous world where I would meet someone who doesn't even exist," she states so matter of factly.

"For the same reason you watch movies or read books. I mean, do you expect to actually become a part of those worlds? No, but you still continue to go to the theater, don't you?"

She takes a small step forward. "You know, I think I'm going to enjoy the silence when you move to LA."

I take my own small step forward. "I think you're going to miss my witty comments and charming smile."

She holds my gaze for a moment, a faint smile beginning to form on her face. There it is.

"Olivia!" A voice behind her echoes through the hall.

My eyes glide around her, taking in the face of our principal. She's accompanied by the school counselor, the same duo that sat with me when I waited for my grandma to pick me up and take me to the hospital to see my mom. The sight of them marching down this very corridor with a mission has my heart tightening in my chest. As I take a closer look, I notice a man trodding behind them. I haven't seen him before.

"Great," Liv mutters. "What did I do now?"

My eyes flash back to her, that patter of panic fluttering the beats within my chest. This isn't good.

This isn't good, and she has no idea.

"Liv," I whisper, my voice barely managing to escape.

She looks back at me but it's too late.

"Olivia, honey, we need to speak with you for a moment," Mrs. Dillion says with that same soothing tone she used with me.

"Okay?" Liv offers, waiting for them to start what it is they need to say.

"Can you please come with us to the office?"

I watch as her eyes dance from each gazing adult. When her eyes land on the man, she pauses. "Who's he?"

"Olivia," Mrs. Dillion tries again.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me who he is," she insists, her stance stiffening. That hard shell she's coated herself with becoming seemingly more noticeable. I just hope it's strong enough to withstand the impending blow.

"It's alright," the man speaks up now, holding his hand up to the two ladies beside him. He takes a small step forward, making himself more prominent as he looks down at Liv. "My name is Simon Hadden. I'm a social worker with—"

He's immediately cut off, Liv's body whipping around to face me. "You told!" There's something different in her eyes now. That halo I've grown to find familiarity in is now a much darker shade.

"Olivia," Mrs. Dillion steps in yet again, but neither one of us stop to face her.

My head begins to shake as the tremble works its way down my arms, gripping my hands and taking over. "I didn't—"

"I trusted you," she cuts me off.

I deserve to be cut off.

"Olivia, we really need to talk about what is happening," the principal takes a step forward now, trying to gain more of a presence.

"I..." my words are falling flat. I have to explain why I told. I need her to know that I had to protect her. That even if it meant losing her friendship, at least I would know she was okay.

"Save it," she holds out her hand to me as she turns to face the three adults with grief and pity plastered across their faces. I know the looks all too well. "So I take it you all are escorting me home? How many times do we have to do this? How many times do you have to ask questions just to see that nothing is wrong. How many—"

"Olivia," Simon is the one to intervene this time. Just as Olivia goes to dive right back in, he continues. "We're not doing a home visit. Can we please step inside and talk further?"

"What do you mean? Where's my mom? I feel like whatever you all are trying to pull right now shouldn't be done without my mom." She's smart. An expert at avoiding attention.

"Your mom isn't coming," the principal lets out on a quiet exhale. She's withholding something. There's more going on this time. More that Liv isn't fully aware of.

"Well, of course not," Liv throws her hands up before slapping them against her thighs as they fall. "She's working. But if you could just set up a time for her—"

"I really think you need to come with us," Simon says again, this time placing a hand on her shoulder.

Big mistake. What should be a gesture of comfort to most kids is a red flag for Liv. A reason to run.

"Don't touch me!" Liv shouts now, flinging herself a step back. My hand reaches out to try and provide the very comfort he was going for, but it falls short. I don't think I'm that person anymore either. "I'm not going anywhere with anyone until someone tells me where my mom is."

There's a small echo of panic in her voice. That usual smooth confidence she portrays beginning to peek out from the edges.

"Olive," I deep voice from the end of the hall fills the space around us, causing everyone to fall silent.

The man looks familiar this time. I've seen him before. Liv's eyes widen for a brief moment before she takes off running, her feet carrying her away before I think any of us have a chance to catch what is actually happening.

The man opens his arms and Liv falls against him, wrapping her own around his waist. He holds her and she begins to shake. I've never seen her break like this before. I've never seen her walls fall. She's always held it together. But the way she's clinging to him in fear and pain sends a shock straight to my gut, causing me to stumble back a step.

What have I done?

He's talking to her now. Crouched down and looking up at her as he begins to say something. I have no idea what is happening right now, but Liv isn't moving. She's standing frozen, watching the words fall out in front of her.

When her head begins to frantically shake, I have my answer. I begin preparing myself to watch her collapse. I know because what she's doing right now, I've done the same thing. The feeling of shock when you first get the news that will change your life forever. You can't move or breathe or even think enough to function. And once the words finally settle, once you begin to actually process the situation, that's when you try to fight it. When you try your damndest to convince everyone this isn't actually happening.

And then you break.

She turns toward me. She's not crumbling, she's not collapsing in pain. She's...she's angry. And all of that anger is directed intently at me.

"Liv, what's happening?" I ask. Stupid. It was a stupid question. One I wish I could take back.

"You told! You promised me you wouldn't tell anyone! How could you do this?" her words are strong, powerful, yet lined with a sense of pain I wouldn't miss.

"Liv, I—"

"No! This is all your fault! All of it!" The tears are streaming down her face as the words fire from her lips. And that's when I see it. She is breaking. She's falling to pieces beneath her armor and I can't react fast enough to stop it.

"I didn't know...I just wanted to help." I try to step forward, to explain why I did it. But there's no excuse in the world I can muster up right now to cover what she's going through.

"Help me?" she laughs, but it's not honest. It's full of hate. "You think what you did is helping me? Do you even know what it is you've done?"

"I...no. No, I don't know, but—"

"They took my mom from me," she states, the crack in her voice becoming more prominent. "I'm not allowed to live with her. The only family I have ever had, and I'm not allowed to have it."

They what? That's not what I wanted. I never wanted her to be taken from her mom, but she couldn't keep living like she was, right?

That anger she's been blazing with, it's fading. It's becoming something else.

Pain.

The clear coat of water across her eyes is taking over, filling to the brim as the tears continue to cascade down her face without fail. She's breaking. Her world is shattering around her because of me. Because I couldn't keep my mouth shut.

"I let you in, Max," her voice has dropped, that shaky ache now slicing through it. "I trusted you," she whispers on trembling lips.

And that's when I feel it too. I'm breaking right alongside her.

"I know," I step forward but she makes sure to take one back. My head drops to my hand, letting the weight of everything consume me. It's a brief moment. I know why I did this. I know despite every feeling of betrayal flipping my stomach inside out, I did this for her. My head springs back up. "I had to, Liv. You couldn't live like that."

"That wasn't your choice to make!" she fires back. That quiet tone from before is gone. "I won't ever forgive you for this."

"I'm sorry," I try again. I know those words carry no substance with her right now, but they're honest. I am sorry for what's happening. For the role I played in it. But I had to.

"Have fun in LA," she says before turning around and following the small crowd of adults back to the office.

I knew leaving wouldn't be easy. I knew I had built something with her over the last couple months that was deeper than anything I've ever had before. There's something about her presence that calmed me. The way she understood what I was thinking at all times and how to respond to what it was I needed.

When she first stepped into my life, I really believed I was about to lose my mom. I thought in just a few short weeks, she'd be taken from me. Liv was the first one to acknowledge that. To stop feeding me crap about miracles and false hope. She just listened.

Her mom is all she's got. So what now? Where is she supposed to live?

What she needs right now is someone who is going to just listen. To be there for her, no BS about the bright side of things. But someone to sit at the bottom with her and feel the weight of the world come crashing down.

She needs a friend.

And yet, I'm the very person who destroyed her world in the first place. The one who struck the glass and created the weak point. Me. I did that.

And now I'm walking away.

Leaving behind a mess I never intended to pick up. All because I believed I was doing the right thing. But maybe I wasn't. Maybe all I did was make it worse.