Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

  "Sinclair," Max snidely greets as Lucas walks alongside her to lunch. 

  "Mayfield," Lucas replies with ease. "Hope you're ready to lose the debate in last period." 

  Max laughs. "You mean the debate class you've missed six times this semester for basketball practice?" 

  "Hey, I'm not getting a full ride to Syracuse for nothing, Red." 

  Max rolls her eyes as they turn into the cafeteria, looking for their usual table. "Still pulling a higher GPA." 

  "Fuck off," Lucas replies, the usual fire in the statement lesser than it was months and years ago. 

  “Believe me, I would love to, but I don’t feel like being bossed around by you.” 

  Lucas gapes behind her dramatically. “Oh, I’m being bossy? Have you seen you at debate practice?” 

  Their table grows nearer as Max replies. “If the dumb freshmen are going to be dumb freshmen, they’re asking to be yelled at, that’s all I’m saying.” 

  “You are aware that Erica is one of said ‘dumb freshmen,’ right?” 

  “I don’t see how that affects me,” Max shrugs, seating herself next to El. 

  Lucas, sliding in next to Dustin across from her, glares. “It affects me more. She makes fun of me every day for hanging out with a ‘cool person’ like you.” 

  “Aw, I’m cool?” Max asks, fake pursing her lips. “I don’t even hang out with you by choice, Sinclair. It’s because our stupid best friends decided to start dati-” 

  “Are you guys done yet?” Mike asks, snapping at them. 

  “No,” Lucas and Max reply in sync. 

  Dustin groans and drops his sandwich on the table dramatically. “Son of a bitch. You guys never stop fighting, do you?” 

  Max glares at Lucas. “He started it.” 

  “What do you mean, I started it?” Lucas asks, throwing his hands up. “You were the one who threw your shoe at me in seventh grade for getting a point higher than you in Clarke’s test!” 

  “You deserved it,” Max seethes, fueled by the rage from that event. 

  El stops Max from continuing with a small touch on her forearm. “Max, sweetie, can we please have just one lunch without you two chewing each other out? Please?” 

  Max stares at Lucas, who stares back for a solid second before they roll their eyes simultaneously. “Fine.” 

  “Fine,” Lucas echoes. 

  Lunch goes by slowly, with Mike and El discussing their upcoming date and Dustin chatting with Lucas and Will about a new D&D campaign. Because, well, they’re nerds. 

  Max takes this time to get an early start on her calculus homework, taking it out and beginning her work. 

  At some point, Lucas’s face grows closer and closer to her paper in front of her, and while it’s still far enough away to look like he’s simply stretching, Max can feel the looming. “What?” She snaps. 

  “I think you’re doing that wrong,” he replies simply, pointing at a certain equation.

  Max looks away from her math problem and at Lucas. “Kiss my fucking ass, Sinclair.” 

  Her brain immediately goes to the worst possible of places when she watches Lucas’s pupils expand the slightest bit. Shit. “And what, catch what disease you’re possibly carrying?” Lucas shoots back, keeping his eyes trained on Max, and oh God .

  Max instead slams her pen down on the table. “You know what-” 

  “Just fucking make out already,” Mike mutters under his breath as Will hides his smile. 

  El sighs. “Mike, be nice.” Her eyes dart to Max and Lucas. “You guys too.” 

  Ms. Nickels’ gavel slams on the sound block, once, then twice. “Okay! Max and Lucas, you guys are done for today. Maybe for the week. God, what a Thursday.” She sounds phenomenally exhausted, and Max cannot blame her. Today’s mock debate was intense (even more so considering the argument was about unequal pay), and Max spent a solid ten minutes refuting and countering Lucas’s evidence before the freshmen started to scoot their desks back. 

  “Sorry, ma’am,” Lucas says politely. Max gives him the finger where Nickels can’t see, and Lucas gives her the most subtle glare. 

  “Whatever. Class dismissed.” At barely forty-five, Nickels looks like she’s ready to retire because of the two seniors. Everyone stands up to leave, and Max is only stopped by their teacher’s voice. “Max, Lucas, stay back a few.” 

  Max meets Lucas’s eyes, also filled with curiosity, before heading over to Nickels’ desk. “Yeah?” she asks. 

  “Well, that’s awfully polite,” Lucas remarks. 

  Max swats at his arm. 

  “Kids,” Nickels speaks, sighing. “I wanted to talk to you guys about your final.” 

  “That’s not for another four months,” Max points out. 

  Nickels nods. “Yes, but you two are the only seniors in this class. And this is a final for seniors specifically. See, you two are the top two in the running for valedictorian. There has to be something important that you’ve put aside to focus on this, yes?” 

  Suddenly antsy, Max finds herself nodding hesitantly. Out of the corner of her eye, Lucas does too. 

  “Your final is simple. Well, technically it’s not an official final, but Principal Anderson requested me to assign you guys the task of writing your valedictorian speech. But I figured it’d be fun for you guys to write two instead. One for valedictorian, and one just for me. Your speech for this class is simple. I want you to answer this. ‘Is fighting this hard for valedictorian worth it?’” Nickels grins wickedly, as if she is unable to contain her excitement to read their papers. “Due on June 6th. Dismissed.” 

  Max blinks and slowly backs out of the classroom, with Lucas in tow. They walk towards their lockers in silence before she speaks. “So.” 

  “The final kind of seems-” Lucas starts. “A little too easy.” 

  Max nods. “Well, easy A then. That 4.0 isn’t gonna manifest itself.” 

  “In your dreams, Mayfield. We all know I’ll be valedictorian.” 

  Scoffing, Max makes a turn for her locker. “You’re the actual worst.” 

  “That’s not what you were saying last night,” Lucas says, his voice dropping low and smooth. 

  Max feels heat rise in her cheeks. “Shut up,” she hisses. 

  “Again, not what you were saying las-” Max elbows him in the side, and finds her locker. 

  “Shut. Up. No one can know. And both of us would like to keep it that way, so shut it.” She takes out her textbooks and puts them in her backpack, turning around and jabbing a finger into Lucas’s chest. “Got it?” 

  Lucas nods, serious even with the teasing glint in his eye. “Yeah. Yeah, obviously. Sorry, it’s fun riling you up.” 

  Max gives him the finger and slams her locker shut. “Bye.”

  “Is Lucas coming over tonight?” 

  Max jolts from her slouched position at her desk. “He-huh?” 

  “I asked, is your boyfriend coming over tonight?” Steve asks from the doorway. 

  “He’s not my boyfriend, Steve,” Max mumbles, finishing up her math homework. 

  Steve laughs, walking in and sitting on the edge of her bed. “Don’t give me that bullshit, sis. You can’t lie to me.” 

  Max throws a pencil at him. “Shut up. We’re not dating.” 

  “Come on. You’re the only family I have left, and I intend on keeping everything out in the open.” 

  Steve’s parents decided to travel the world again, leaving him with the house. At 22 though, Steve has become a retail manager and is fully capable of both parenting her and making money. After Billy left for college and never came back, Neil also ditched them, and Max and her mother were left alone. They moved in with a newly lonely Steve, only for Susan to enroll in nursing school three months later and move to Chicago for it. 

  With Steve as Max’s legal guardian (well, not anymore now that she’s 18), it seems like the man has all his priorities circled around the redhead. And while she doesn’t complain, it does get a bit…mothery. 

  “We’re not dating, Steve,” Max says again. 

  “So what, you two are just sleeping together for the hell of it?” 

  Max’s head snaps up, and she whirls around in her chair to look at Steve’s smug face. “What.” 

  Steve gives her an oh, please look. “I’ve seen him sneak out of your room window twice this month. How long has this been going on?” 

  “Like…” Max fidgets with the pen in her hand. “Since June.” 

   “June?” Steve echoes. “This has been going on for eight months?” 

  Max rolls her eyes at her brother. “We’re using protection if you’re worried about that.” 

  Steve stands up and paces around her room. “I’m sorry, you’ve been having sex with the guy you absolutely hate for the past eight months?” 

  Hate is a strong word. Max finds that she doesn’t associate the word with Lucas Sinclair anymore, but if it’s to save face, especially in front of her brother, she will. 

  So she ignores it. 

  “No one can know. I’ll let you know everything you want, I’ll let you give me The Talk for all I care, Steve, just do not. Let Anyone. Know,” Max hisses. 

  Steve nods, still pacing. “Who else knows?” 

  Max pretends to think. “Oh, you know, just uh….you.” 

  “Robin’s gonna find out if I know,” Steve mentions, bracing himself for the paper clip Max immediately throws at him. “What? You know she won’t tell anyone.” 

  “She’s gonna tell everyone!” Max tries not to yell. “So do not. Tell. Her.” 

  Steve puts a hand on his hip. “Or what, Max? You’re gonna throw a shoe at me?” 

  “I can get away with murder.” 

  “Not this again. Max, just because you know how lividity works doesn’t mean you know how to-” 

  “I’ll frame you for the murder.” 

  Steve throws a hand up. “Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut. Is Lucas coming over though? Just so I can turn up the music in my room.” 

  Max throws a paper clip at him again. “We have thick walls, and your room is downstairs and across the house from mine.” 

  “Still. I don’t need to hear anything if it gets…loud.” 

   “You’re dismissed.” 

  Lucas doesn’t end up coming over that night, but the next one instead. 

  There’s never a set schedule per se, but Lucas sneaks over at least once a week. Normally once, but there’s the occasional extra visit. Just like when he sneaks in her window on this chilly-adjacent night, without any warning. Somehow Max already knows he’ll be over, and is settled on her bed with a book when he enters.

  “Hey,” he says, from his spot by the window when he finally walks in, taking his shoes and socks off. 

  “What took you so long?” Max asks, immediately tossing her book aside and pulling him to her bed. 

  Lucas’s shirt is off first, then Max’s. His lips are on hers throughout, his tongue sweeping in her mouth in the way he knows she loves, and hell would freeze over before Max admitted this is her favorite part of her day. 

  But it is, and even as they lower themselves onto her bed, Max knows this isn’t going to be a thing. Even if everything Lucas does is driving her fucking insane with hormones, she’s not going to let it go much further than this. 

  She’s not going to complain as he spreads her out and worships her body, though. That is all him, and Max is just here for the ride. 

  Max wouldn’t necessarily call having sex with Lucas a part of her routine, but it’s been going on for months on end now, so…technically yes? 

   Sure, it’s mostly comprised of one of them (normally Lucas) sneaking into the other’s room at night, moans muffled into pillows, touches and words that just send Max into a euphoric kind of high, and of course the usual banter in between. 

  She stares at the far corner of her room as she idly draws patterns on Lucas’s chest. His hand is slowly moving up and down her back, and even though they’ve both been awake for a few hours now and the sun has long been shining through her window, neither of them make a move to get out of bed. 

  This happens a lot on the Saturday mornings when Lucas is over, considering Steve has work and both Max and Lucas rarely have plans on a Saturday morning. 

  “You’re thinking too loud,” Lucas mumbles, his voice reverberating through her. “Care to share, sweetheart?” 

  Max adjusts her position so a leg is thrown over Lucas’s hip. “Just thinking about how my debate final is going to shred yours,” she lies. 

  Lucas pokes at a sensitive spot at her back that he knows better than her at this point. She kicks him in the leg, and he pokes another spot in her side. “Ugh. We should probably get out of bed though. To, you know, make food. Drink water.” 

  As hard as it is to admit, Max really doesn’t want to leave her bed. It’s a warm morning, the sky is blue, all her homework is done, and she wants nothing more than to just stay in. 

  But obviously, she needs food. And lying in bed naked with the boy she hates(or not?) more than anything isn’t the greatest way to spend a weekend morning. So she leans her head up to plant a short peck on his lips before reaching down to the floor and pulling on her bra, underwear, and Lucas’s large Hawkins High sweatshirt. 

  Lucas doesn’t protest her wearing his shirt, since it’s a frequent occurrence. Instead, he simply pulls on his boxers and joggers before following her into the kitchen. Max just makes them some eggs and lets him wrap his arms around her stomach and kiss her neck. Because at this point, it’s pretty normal for them. 

  Max isn’t sure if this is a good or bad sign. But after they finish their breakfast and Lucas’s hands start wandering up her bare thighs, she lets him take her to her room and fuck her senseless. 

  Spring break is (thankfully) uneventful. Mike is out in California with Holly, visiting Nancy. El and Will, along with Joyce and Hopper, have gone to Jonathan’s studio opening in New York. Dustin is also in California with Mrs. Henderson as they tour CalTech. 

  Even fucking Erica is out for spring break, going with Lucas’s parents to Florida while he stays behind for basketball conditioning camp. 

  Obviously Max isn’t complaining. She would totally go visit Eddie and Chrissy in Chicago if she weren’t swamped with assignments and had to work. Besides, she’s housesitting while Steve is on a two-week long business trip to help some expansion in Michigan, and the empty house is all the more reason to have Lucas over. 

  So of course Max lets Lucas move in for the week. 

  Break ends up involving a lot of Max withholding herself from jumping Lucas’s bones while he returns from practice covered in sweat (and often shirtless). 

  It’s a sort of domestic and blissful week they create for themselves (which in turn kind of makes Max wonder if this is what a day-to-day life with Lucas would be like, until she snaps out of it and flicks his arm for no reason), with the two of them finishing up a few leftover assignments and actively avoiding their debate final. 

  Some sick, twisted part of her wants to consider Lucas her closest friend, with the exception of El. He knows her better than she knows herself, and Max absolutely hates how he knows everything about her, even things she hasn’t gotten to tell El yet. 

  “You sure you’re okay alone at home?” Steve is asking, concern and worry lacing his voice. “Sorry it’s been a while, but I’ll be back in four days, okay?” 

  Max laughs. “I’m fine, Steve. Still alive, haven’t burned down the kitchen yet, I promise.” 

  Steve sighs. “I know, but you’ve never been home alone this long before.” 

  “I’m fi-” The door to Max’s bathroom opens dramatically, and Lucas walks into her room in nothing but a towel around his waist and water droplets slowly cascading down his chest. “Jesus fuck.” 

   “Don’t cream your pants,” Lucas replies dryly, walking over to the latest load of laundry to retrieve some clothes. He gives her a wry smile before disappearing into her bathroom again to change, as if Max hasn’t seen it all before. 

  Max forgets she’s on the phone with Steve and is very ready to drop everything to barge into that bathroom and cast aside that damn towel when she hears an awkward cough. 

  “...You’re not home alone, are you?” Steve asks bluntly. He sounds somewhere between disappointed and exasperated, as if he can’t believe his sister is spending spring break with a guy. 

  To be fair, she wouldn’t have believed it a year ago either. “No,” Max confesses. 

  Steve is definitely running his hand through his hair as he speaks again. “Use protection.” 

  “Yes, sir.” 

  “Bye.” A click sounds as Steve hangs up, and Max puts the phone down while trying not to drown herself in the darkness her hand provides her eye when she covers her face. 

  “So-” Lucas enters her room, and Max glares. 

  “You have terrible timing.” 

  Lucas sighs dramatically. “Want me to make it up to you, babe?” 

  (There really isn’t much point in asking when her legs have been opened up since he walked in.)

  Max knows she has zero right to be disappointed when he leaves to go back home the day his family comes back. She was the one who started this whole arrangement back in June, anyway. 

  But later as she sits in front of her still-empty paper for her debate final, the realization that this final is going to be fucking difficult finally sinks in.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Max mumbles, quickly jogging into the Byers-Hopper house and hoping she’s not tracking a puddle behind her. The Indiana rain, more intense than she anticipated, has left her hair wet and her clothes sticking to her skin. She quickly greets El’s dad and Will’s mom, who are leaving for a date, and heads into El’s room, only to find it empty. 

  “You are soaking,” a familiarly annoying voice speaks from behind her. 

  Max turns around, rolling her eyes at Lucas. “No shit, Sinclair. Where’s El? And everyone else?” 

  Lucas shrugs. “I think El and Mike are getting some snacks. Will told me to wait in here while he gets a book for me. Apparently Hopper is doing some renovations in the house and the rooms here minus El’s and Will’s and the parents’ are under some sort of beautification?”

  “Where’s Dustin?” Max asks. 

  “Getting a movie. Probably the fucking Breakfast Club again.” 

  Immediately Max’s nose wrinkles. “Again? It's game night, not movie night.” She peeks into El’s room. “Ugh, I’m just gonna borrow a shirt or something.” Max grabs a sweater that El definitely hasn’t worn in a while, and a pair of sleep shorts. She looks over at Lucas. “Shit, I forgot El’s door doesn’t close all the way.” It’s clear Lucas really doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and neither does she, so Max sighs. “I’m just gonna change now. Turn around.” 

  “I’ve seen it all, babe,” Lucas replies cheekily. 

  “Shut up.” Max waits until he actually turns around before she peels off her jeans, pulling on the shorts and she swears Lucas is resisting the urge to look. To be fair, if he were undressing, she would too. 

   Oh God. Max shakes the thought out of her head and takes off her jacket and t-shirt. Her bra isn’t as wet as her shirt, so she leaves it on and tugs on El’s sweater. 

  “I’m decent,” Max calls, shoving her wet clothes in her backpack. 

  Lucas turns back around. “Thank God. I was about to make sure you were doing okay over there.” 

  “You are so fucking insufferable, Jesus Christ.” 

  “Hey guys!” Will greets as he opens the door. He's definitely gotten used to their arguing, and has become a pro at interjecting with nonchalance.

  Max puts on a smile for the one boy in her begrudging friend group that she actually likes. "Hey. Sorry if I got the floors wet, I didn't know it would be this rainy." 

  "It's okay, Max." Will holds up a book. "Here's the one you wanted to borrow, Lucas." He hands the book over to Lucas, who takes it gratefully. 

  "Thanks, Will." 

  Will, who has finally gotten rid of his horrendous bowl cut, runs his hand through his hair. "No problem. Uh, you guys wanna set up for tonight? We're probably doing some trivia game again." 

  Max nods. "Sure," she says, following Will into his living room, where a few large bowls have been already laid out on the coffee table. 

  Lucas follows immediately behind her, and pokes the spot on her back again. Max turns to him. "You fucking-" 

  "Guys," Will lightly chastises. 

  "Sorry." 

  (As soon as his shirt is off later that night, Max makes good use of poking him back.) 

  Everyone’s staring at Max at lunch, and even though everyone’s been doing that all day, she finds this finally starting to get weird. “What?” She snaps at the table of curious looks. 

  “You had a wild night last night?” Mike comments. Max snaps her head towards him. No way he knows.  

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Max demands, hoping her voice isn’t shaking. 

  Mike nods over in her direction. “You got a little something there, Mayfield.” Max isn’t exactly sure where there is, but El saves her by handing her a compact mirror. 

  “You’ll see it when you see it,” El whispers. 

  Max snaps the mirror open, seeing nothing wrong with her face before her hand lowers and fuck.  

  A reddish-purple bruise has formed on the left side of her neck, and it most definitely looks like a love bite. “What the hell,” she says flatly, stepping on Lucas’s foot under the table to signal to him that it’s directed to him. 

  “You got a boyfriend?” Mike asks. El swats at his arm lightly. 

  “Shut up, Mike,” Max barks, wondering how many people saw the hickey already today. 

  “Nothing to be embarrassed of,” Dustin says, still very clearly shocked. 

  Max glares at him. “Drop it.” 

  Mike and Dustin hold their hands up in surrender, and Max feels a tap at her shoulder. El holds out a tube of concealer with a lopsided smile in hopes that it’ll help. “Use this?”

  Max knows El’s concealer won’t be the right shade, so she shakes her head. “It’s fine, thanks. I’ll just see if I can find a bandage to cover it up or something, maybe.” 

  Lucas pipes up. “If you’re heading to the nurse’s office, can you stop by the library to pick up the books for debate? I’ll meet you there to check them out.” 

  There are no books for debate, Max knows. And she knows the exact hidden meaning of Lucas’s words. She’s about to refuse when she realizes she can use the quietness of the library to chew him out for leaving a visible hickey on her. “Fine. Meet you in ten.” 

  “Good girl,” Lucas replies smugly, and Max is endlessly grateful that she’s sitting down right now because her knees are completely and utterly weak. 

  She has to take her time packing up her bags to recover from that line, because oh lord is she turned on right now. These exact words he spoke to her for the first time three weeks ago, and it has proved to be a phenomenally strong weakness. 

   Max is leaning back already, ready for whatever Lucas brings on tonight when he leans close to her stomach, tapping her completely bare thighs. “Open up for me,” he says huskily, and she immediately complies. “Good girl.” 

  If Max weren’t already naked, she would’ve undressed for him right there and then. She lets out a whimper at those words, and Lucas grins wickedly up at her. 

  “And I have discovered yet another thing on my list to drive Max Mayfield crazy.” 

  He is not wrong, but Max refuses to acknowledge it, even if it is obvious he’s correct. Besides, whatever he’s doing to her right now is much more important. 

   God, the way he makes her come undone. 

  Max finds Lucas in the darkest and emptiest section of the library, one luckily empty. It’s been unofficially coined their spot, tucked away in the shadows between the Westerns and space operas.

  “What?” he asks innocently when she settles into straddling him and ends up glaring a hole into his face. 

  “I told you, hickeys only where no one can see!” she hisses at him. “I have pale ass skin!” 

  Lucas only grins. “I know, babe .”  

  Max flicks his forehead. “Everyone can see if you leave marks, dumbass.” 

  “Fine, I’ll stop,” Lucas says, holding a hand up as if swearing an oath. “Besides, it was just this one time. What can I say? I got carried away last night. Please just don’t flick me again.” 

  A solid ten seconds go by with Max pretending to debate whether or not she will. “Fine.” 

  She knows what’s immediately coming next, but is not prepared either way. “Good girl,” Lucas whispers into her ear, and it’s all it takes for Max to press Lucas into the floor under them and force him silent with her mouth. Heat rushes up and down the apex of her thighs every time Lucas says the two words, and whenever she can do something about it, Max will. 

  So if their library makeout is a little hotter than usual, it’s all Lucas’s fault. 

  (But yeah, he makes sure to leave hickeys only where the two of them can see from there on out.)

  “Well?” Nickels asks Max one afternoon after class. “Do you have an idea for the final yet?” 

  Max sighs. “Kind of.” 

  She’s not sure if valedictorian is worth anything anymore. Especially considering her simmering not-hatred of Lucas. 

  But she gives Ms. NIckels the answer she wants anyway. “I mean, I know what I’m going to write. I only kind of have an idea on how I’m gonna write it.” 

  Nickels smiles. “I look forward to reading your essay.”

  Max feels sick to her stomach as she walks away. She’s not entirely sure why. 

  An obnoxiously cheery Lucas sidles up to Max on the way to lunch, as he normally does. Max is too tired to fend him off. 

  “What?” She asks, trying to get through the muddy pulsing in her head. “I’m not in the mood.” The immediate realization of the secondary implication makes her wince. Which makes her head pound. Which in turn makes her wince harder. 

  At that, Lucas stops in his tracks and steps in front of Max, a finger on the bottom of her chin forcing her to look at him. “You’re sick.” 

  Max shakes her head and curses herself for making the pulsing worse. “I’m not. I’m fine.” 

  Her eyelids feel burning hot as she blinks, and she can feel them dragging down. 

  “I swear,” she adds, as if it’ll help. “I can walk in a straight line?” 

  “That’s bullshit,” Lucas says. Max is thankful this particular hallway is empty, because she doesn’t want anyone to see them like this. “Your face is pale, your eyes are unfocused, and you are-” He puts his hand on Max’s forehead, and she almost moans at the relief of his cool hand. “Burning. You have a fever, don’t you?” 

  Max shakes her head, stubborn. “I’m not. I’m fine. I have a calc test after lunch, and I can’t miss it.” 

  She immediately knows Lucas will roll his eyes. (He does.) “Max.” Her eyes are definitely drooping, because he taps her cheek lightly. “Max. You can miss a calc test. You can retake it. I’ll make sure of it myself, okay?” 

  “Why would you do that for me?” Max asks, letting the words slip past her puddle of a brain. “You hate me.” 

  “Now that is also bullshit, Red.” Lucas crosses his arms, and Max’s eyes, despite being exhausted, immediately fall to his very visible biceps. “Go to the nurse. Call Steve. Go home. Sleep.” 

  Again, Max shakes her head. “Go away, let me-” 

  Her head somehow pulses again and when she blinks, she’s in an awkward position kneeling on the ground. Lucas is kneeling in front of her, giving her an I told you so look. “Well?” 

  “Fine…” Max says. “I’m not feeling that great.” 

  “Wanna tell me what you feel?” Lucas asks gently. Oh, how Max wishes she could hate him. But his eyes are soft and genuine, and she wishes she could melt in his arms. 

  A wave of nausea hits Max, and she lets it pause before she speaks. “Head hurts,” she gets out. “Nausea. Uh, heavy head. Kind of dizzy.” 

  Lucas’s eyes widen. “Y-You’re not pregnant, are you?” 

  Max’s head snaps up so fast she feels whiplash. Because that was a very real possibility that she genuinely had a breakdown over from the moment she woke up until about an hour ago. 

  What’s worse, her brain managed to conjure up some fantasy where Max ended up creating a family with none other than Lucas Sinclair. Somewhere sunnier, maybe California? A two-story house with a large front yard. Red hair and dark skin flashing as the daydream flew by fast enough for Max to realize that fuck, she wants that. 

  She obviously can’t say that to Lucas’s face, so she simply glares at him. “Is that the first thing you’re worried about?” She snarls. 

  “No! I just want to rule it out.” Lucas holds his hands up in defense, only to put one back on Max’s shoulder when she leans forward and almost topples over. 

  Max narrows her eyes as best she can, before sighing. "I took a test this morning. I'm not. Promise." 

  The boy in front of her nods. “You probably have a fever. I’m taking you to the nurse, and I don’t care if you’re walking or kicking the air while I carry you.” 

  “Fight me, Sinclair.” 

  Lucas chuckles. “I would, babe, but you’re not even strong enough to curl your hands into fists right now. Come on.” 

  Max rolls her eyes (God, that hurts too) and stands up, letting Lucas take her backpack onto his back. “I hate you.” 

  “I know.”

Chapter Text

  “You got a visitor, sis.” Max rolls over in her bed towards Steve’s voice, and hopes it’s El. 

  She doesn’t really get a chance to let said visitor in before she hears the panic from her best friend. “Max! What the hell? Steve said you left at lunch, no wonder you didn’t show up! Are you okay? How are you feeling?” 

  The brunette is a flurry of energy, flying around Max’s room to make sure everything is in prime condition. “I’m fine, El,” Max croaks. “Just a fever. I’ll be fine by tomorrow.” 

  From the doorway, Steve raises an eyebrow, holding up the thermometer with Max’s last temperature check ten minutes ago: 101. 

  “...Thursday,” Max concedes. “I promise I’ll be better by Thursday.” She meets Steve’s eyes. “You can go now, Steve.” 

  “Call if you need anything,” Steve says. “And I mean it. You’re dealing with this on your own in college, and-” 

  “Thank you, Steve,” El cuts in. “I got her.” 

  Steve looks pointedly at El. “No staying the night. I don’t want you catching a fever either.” 

  “Fevers aren’t really contagious-” the future doctor in El tries to fight, but it’s no use as Steve closes the door shut behind him. “Damn it.” 

  Max shyly grins at El from where she is up to her neck in blankets. They still smell like Lucas from two nights ago, but she doesn’t mention it. “Sorry, El.” 

  El sighs. “It was worth a shot. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” 

   Because I only see you before school and first period, and I was too busy panicking about the pregnancy test that I was only able to take during third. My period was a few days late, probably due to stress, but all I could think about was how fucked I am until the test came back negative and I got my period like, two hours ago. I don’t want you to think I’m a liar or something for keeping this Lucas agreement from you, or a whore for sleeping with some guy you think I hate. And obviously, I didn’t want to make it a big deal for nothing, because thank fuck I’m not pregnant.

  Oh, and the fact that somewhere along the panic of being possibly knocked up, I realized that having a future with Lucas, the boy I’m literally having casual sex with, is a very possible future that I can see myself in. Please don’t hate me.

  “Calc test,” Max replies instead. 

  “I should’ve seen that one.” El sits on the edge of Max’s bed. “How bad is it?” 

  Max simply reaches over the trash bin overflowing by her bedside, showing her best friend the snowballs of snot inside. 

  El winces. “Yikes.” She narrows her eyes. “Wait, that’s your bathroom trash can.” 

  “It’s bigger,” Max says, placing the trash can back down next to her. 

  “I’ll get your regular one,” the brunette volunteers, standing up before Max can protest. 

  Max reaches for the water next to her, and almost chokes at the screech El lets out when she goes to the trash bin beside Max’s desk. “What the hell?” Max ponders, her head pounding. 

  El picks up the trash bin and all but shoves Max’s head inside it. “What. Is this?” Her best friend demands. Barely two seconds in the trash can and Max already knows what El is panicking about. 

  Honestly, so is she. “Um.” 

  “Why are there condom wrappers and used condoms in your trash can?” El drops the bin. “ Multiple wrappers. What the hell?” 

  The pounding in Max’s head is still loud, but she’s almost positive the panic settling in is stronger. “Uh.” 

  El continues talking. “Do you have a boyfriend? Are you dating someone without telling me? It’s pretty serious too, from what I can tell. So spill.” 

   No, no, no, please no. Max shakes her head. “I can’t.” 

  Her best friend glares at her. “Maxine. I don’t care if you’re fighting fucking malaria. You’ve hid this from me for a while. And while I love the idea of you sneaking around with some guy, I really don't want to accidentally walk in on an uncomfortable situation where-"

  Max decides to save El from rambling. She's hidden this from her long enough, anyway. “Lucas,” Max whispers. 

  El takes four seconds to let the word connect in her brain. “I- what?” 

  “Yeah.” Max looks down, a weight lifted off her chest. 

  “You’re…dating Lucas Sinclair.” El says it as if she’s getting used to the sentence. “I mean, the tension was there, but you hate him.” There goes the h word again.

  Max laughs humorlessly. “We’re not dating.” 

  El looks confused. “So you two are just…” Her eyes widen. “Oh my god. Are you two hatefucking?” 

   “El!” 

  “What? It’s a genuine question.” 

  Max sighs. “Sure, yeah. That works.” 

  “Maxine Dorothea Mayfield.” It’s not clear if El says Max’s name in admiration, shock, or disappointment. Possibly all of the above. 

  “It’s more just having casual sex, but use whatever you want.” 

  El lies next to Max on the duvet. “I’m not sure if there’s a term for that other than hatefucking, Max.” 

  Max rolls her eyes. “Don’t tell anyone? We swore to each other that this would stay between us.” 

  “Of course. But you know I want all th-Oh my god, Lucas was the one who gave you that hickey, wasn’t he?” 

  “I don’t know how he misunderstood ‘Hickeys only where people can’t see’, honestly.” 

  El gasps. “Does he leave hickeys in… other places?” She wiggles her eyebrows, and Max groans. 

  “I’m going to sleep. Bye.” 

  There’s a small knock at her window, so soft Max is surprised she hears it over the (thankfully dwindling) pounding in her head. 

  Lucas is at the window, and Max nods at him before he enters slowly. He walks over, holding a book in his hand. “Hey. Figured you might want this while you stay here tomorrow.” 

  Max looks at the cover. The Princess Bride. She’s about to protest when Lucas interrupts her. 

  “I know it’s your favorite book and movie. No denying. I’ve seen you hold it at school.” He sits next to her, touching her forehead lightly. “Hey, it’s a little better now, huh?” 

  “Meds,” Max says softly, her brain mildly fuzzy from the sleep medicine Steve made her take. 

  Lucas nods in understanding. “You coping well with missing a whole day tomorrow?” 

  Max glares at Lucas. 

  “Sorry, too far.” He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll get El to bring you your work, then I’ll come over after Hellfire. That sound good?” 

  “Why’re you nice to me?” Max asks, hoping she’s not sounding too sleepy. 

  Lucas holds a finger under her chin. “Vulnerability tactic, sweetheart. You should try it sometime.” 

  A small giggle escapes Max, and she curses the sleep medicine for making her sound helpless. “Whatever you say,” she says, and yeah, sleep is gonna take her pretty soon. 

  It’s obvious to Lucas too, who reaches forward to tuck her in better. “I’ll come back tomorrow?” 

  Max blames the medicine when she shakes her head. “Stay?” 

  Lucas seems a bit taken aback, but nods. “Yeah, of course.” He adjusts himself so he’s under the blankets. 

  And again, Max will blame the medicine and its side effects of intrusive thoughts when she leans over and places her head on his chest. “Are…are we friends?” she tentatively asks. 

  There’s a small pause as Lucas finds his answer. “I’d like us to be,” he decides. 

  “Me too,” Max says, without much thought. She yawns immediately after, and wishes she didn’t yawn so loudly.

  “Sleep, Max,” Lucas encourages. “You’ll feel better after.” 

  Max lets herself stay awake for a little bit longer before giving in. “Fine.” 

  She feels Lucas chuckle. “Good girl.” 

  Yeah, fuck, Max is turned on again, but her sleepiness takes over. She’ll just cash that round in later. “‘Night.” 

  “‘Night, Max.” 

  It doesn’t hit Max until later that a) that was the first time he’d been in her room that they didn’t have sex, and b) shit, are they friends now?

  Her debate final starts to really become a nuisance then. 

  One of many things Max hoped for when she and Lucas first decided on this arrangement was that no one they know would ever walk in on them. Because if people simply finding out is embarrassing, someone they both know witnessing would be absolutely humiliating.  

  They manage to get away with it for a solid nine, almost ten months before it happens. 

  Max blames pretty much everyone when it happens. 

  It’s Steve’s fault for not letting her know in advance that Robin was visiting for a few days. So what if it’s a surprise visit? Max would’ve been able to clean her room out, look actually decent, or, you know, not be having sex.

   Robin also takes part in the blame because who plans a surprise visit at eleven pm in late March? It’s not spring break, and it’s not summer, nor is it even a weekend.  

  And obviously it’s Lucas’s fault for getting Max so hot and bothered during their debate session in class that half an hour in the janitor’s closet before basketball practice wasn’t enough. 

  Which is how she finds herself against the wall by her door, hands pinned above her head, red hair tickling her face. Chest rising and falling, Lucas inside her as he uses his free hand to hold her very much arching back. 

  Max doesn’t have anything to grab onto, just her eyes locking into Lucas’s before he lowers his lips onto her neck and starts moving further down and-

  Her door slams open. “ Hello -oh, holy mother of-” The door slams shut again with Robin muttering inaudible things under her breath. 

  Lucas’s head snaps up to look at Max, and she gives him a single nod before they both finish each other off and scramble to get their clothes back on to welcome the inevitable. 

  Robin’s holding her head in her hands and rocking back and forth from her seat on the couch when Max slowly makes her way downstairs with Lucas in tow. 

  Steve looks up at them, giving them his signature seriously? look. “It’s official. You guys broke her.” 

  “I am so sorry, Robin,” Max starts. 

  “I am never going to be able to unsee any of that,” Robin says, voice muffled with her hands. She finally looks up at them. “How are you two? What is this? Last time we called, Max, you were going off on what a dick Lucas is and how you wish his walkie signal would get jammed. And now you two are-” She gestures some sort of implosion. 

  Lucas walks forward to sit across from Robin. “This is a purely sexual relationship-”

  “No!” Steve yells, trying to cover his ears. 

  “Lucas!” Max hisses, her face flaming red. 

  “Oh God.” Robin’s hair is definitely messed up from her running her hands through it. “I swear you guys are like, fourteen.”

  Max grimaces. “Eighteen. And this is a…casual thing. It’s nothing, really. It’s an outlet for frustration.” 

  “That’s phrased better than ‘purely sexual’. But still…I’m not ready for this,” Robin says. 

  Steve scoffs. “You’re lucky you found out this late. I found out a month ago.” 

  “I am so not ready for this,” Robin mumbles. “I’m going to sleep and hoping this was a bad dream.” She stands up and heads to the spare room. 

  With the awkward atmosphere out of the way, Steve turns to Max and Lucas. “I have no words.” 

  “Me neither,” Max says, glaring at Lucas. And shit, he looks so good in the afterglow. “I’m also going to bed.” 

  “Uh, I should go too,” Lucas says, slipping out of the room with Max. 

  If they spend the night talking about nothing and everything while he runs his hands through her hair, Max will deny it, no matter how hard the butterflies flap their wings in her stomach. 

  “How long exactly is this supposed to go on for?” El asks one day as she braids Max’s hair “Like, is it going to continue at college? You both are going to New York, right?” 

  “If I get in,” Max immediately says, cutting El off. Her waitlist at NYU has been annoying her a bit these past few weeks, and she’s hoping she hears back from them before the acceptance deadline. “And I’m not even sure it’s going to go much further than graduation. Maybe the summer? Then we just pretend this never happened.” 

  El sighs, tying off her hair. “And you’ll be fine with it?” 

  “Why wouldn’t I?” 

  “Well,” El starts. “I can’t help but notice that you two seem to be getting along a little better now. Even maybe staring at each other a little longer than usual?” 

  Max tries to ignore the teasing in El’s voice. “I don’t know, maybe we’re friends now. We’re still figuring that out, kind of.” 

  “Do you want it to end?” El asks. 

  “I really don’t have a preference,” Max shrugs off, her heart feeling like stone as she says it. 

  She does, in fact, have a preference. 

  They start to get a little sloppy with hiding as they dip into April. 

  Max and Lucas are at the Wheelers’ one day in the storage closet trying to have a quick makeout when Mike’s voice starts to ring out as he looks for them. 

  Luckily, he runs back downstairs when Will calls him to help them reach for something. 

  Another time, Dustin stops by the Sinclairs’ to retrieve his forgotten cap, and Lucas has to fake a lie about getting dressed after a shower so Max can parkour her way into his closet. She almost yelps when she bumps her elbow on his dresser and Lucas has to slap his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. 

  It might possibly be the hottest thing she’s ever experienced, Lucas pulling her close with one hand to cover her mouth with the other, placing them in very close proximity before he opens his closet for her to hide in. 

  Seconds after a mildly suspicious Dustin leaves Lucas’s room (“Man, how do you take that long to get dressed?”), the closet door swings open and Lucas falls on top of Max with his lips on hers, and yeah, she’s never going to get tired of this.

  (Max refuses to be called a bottom, but when he’s got her on the floor, it’s probably a sign to give in for just a few minutes, right?) 

  It’s these close calls that start to uptick Max’s paranoia about people knowing. 

  She brings it up with Lucas after a few days of pondering the conversation.

  “I mean, we’re being careful, right?” 

  “...Like using protection, or-” Lucas starts, sarcastically. He’s sitting on her bed, fully engaged in this conversation. Max would’ve found it weird a month ago, the two of them in her room having a conversation like civilized adults instead of making out like horny teens. But since becoming friends (or the in-between of friends and rivals that bang occasionally), things have gotten better.

  Max throws a pen at him. “Hiding this. Because in the past week, we’ve almost been caught by Mike and Dustin.” 

  Lucas catches the pen. “And El, actually.” 

   “What.” 

  Shrugging, Lucas leans back into Max’s pillows while maintaining an eye on her from where she is at her desk staring at her still-blank debate final. “On Thursday. I was gonna come in here, but I saw El through your window. So I turned my car around and drove back. Wouldn’t want to give her a heart attack.” 

  Max buries her face in her hands. “El knows,” she says, her voice definitely muffled. 

  “How?” Lucas asks, not angry, just genuinely curious. “She didn’t walk in or anything, did she?” 

  “Oh, God no.” Max laughs lightly at that. She gets out of her chair and settles on the edge of her bed, sitting so one leg is bent on her bed and facing him while the other hangs off. If she leans slightly closer to Lucas than she normally would, it’s because they’re friends. If her fingertips are closer to his legs, well, nobody has to know. “She found the condom wrappers. I wasn’t going to concoct some lie about a random guy she knows I would never, well, you know.” 

  Lucas nods, letting his fingers reach out to touch her knee. “As long as she hasn’t told Mike.” 

  “Oh, we would know if Mike knows.” Max gives him a soft smile, and when Lucas smiles back, she knows she is so fucked. Butterflies are flapping, her stomach is inversing itself, and she’s positive the dumbstruck look on her face will be kissed off in about two minutes.

  “So.” Lucas looks at her with his wide brown eyes, and Max wants . “Debate final going good?” 

  Max nods, hopefully believable. “Yeah, I’m almost done.” 

  “Same,” Lucas replies. 

  “Ah, fuck it.” Max crawls over into Lucas’s lap and puts her hands around his head, kissing him until they slouch down on her bed, lying and just casually making out. Hands wander, but nothing goes any further. 

  When they slow down to catch their breath, Max lets her eyes linger a little longer on Lucas than usual, and realizes multiple things at once.

  1) He looks really good in the moonlight. 

  2) She can’t really remember a time when they’re sleeping and his hand isn’t tangled in her hair. (When he does, it’s pure bliss if Max gets an opinion on it.)

  3) Max wants him to hold her like this forever. 

  4) Fuck, she’s pretty sure she’s in love with him.

  Lucas Sinclair is good at a lot of things. 

  Math, science, debate, basketball, being a good brother to Erica (even if they both deny it). 

  And there are other less…obvious things he's good at. 

  Like teasing Max to the point of (almost) screaming when they're in bed. Holding her in his arms when they fall asleep as if she's the most precious thing in the world and not the one thing in the way of valedictorian. Whatever he does when his head is in between her legs and she's gripping the sheets so hard she's surprised she hasn’t torn a hole. Making sure she's always okay before going any further. Running his fingers through her hair when he thinks she's asleep. 

  Most importantly, he's good at pretending that their arrangement is simply that: an arrangement. 

  At school they bicker like they normally do, sniping at each other until someone breaks it up, only to continue their argument two minutes later. 

  Max finds it exhilarating, the way Lucas can bring the fire out in her only to easily put it out with a soft brush of skin against hers. It makes her feel alive. 

  It also terrifies her. 

  Whenever they’re not arguing or feverishly making out somewhere, they’re silent and listening into a conversation with the rest of the Party. However, things have shifted in the past few months, and Max finds herself staring at Lucas through the majority of a conversation. Or during class. 

  Or during pretty much any situation where he’s present. 

  This ever so constant reminder that Max has fallen hard for Lucas keeps irking her, every time she remembers again. It’s not a good idea to fall for him, she knows. For a variety of reasons. 

  So much so that by the time prom season (which is a bit earlier this year) rolls around, she finds herself finding him only to see a girl talking to him in hopes he’ll take them to the dance. Max can’t help the nauseous feeling that rises whenever that happens. 

  “Another one bites the dust?” Mike teases as Lucas breaks away from the girl and joins them at lunch. 

  Lucas shrugs, his eyes flitting to meet Max’s for a moment. “I guess.” 

  “That’s gotta be the sixth one this week,” Will brings up. 

  “What can I say?” Lucas asks, grinning cockily. “The ladies love me, I guess.” His eyes land on Max’s again. 

  “My back is arching,” she replies sarcastically. 

  Beside her, El coughs on her juice and covers it up. Max flicks at her best friend’s wrist in what she hopes is a casual move. 

  Dustin nudges Lucas dramatically. “So, which one are you going to take?” 

  “None,” Lucas replies. “I got you guys instead.” 

  Max rolls her eyes and tries to ignore the gnawing in her chest. “Are we still doing the afterparty at Jennifer’s?” 

  El nods. “Yep, and then sleepover at Mike’s.” 

  “Assuming we don’t get wasted,” Max points out. 

  “Nah, we got Will,” Lucas says, putting an arm around the boy in question. “He’ll keep us sober.” 

  Will laughs nervously. “No promises, guys. I’ll just be there to take you guys home after.” 

  “As long as Hopper doesn’t catch us like he did two years ago,” Mike says. They all collectively shudder at the memory of El’s dad finding them (minus Will) each somewhere on the tipsy-drunk spectrum one Friday night. 

  “Well,” Dustin says, raising his can of soda. “Here’s to hoping.” 

  They all raise their drinks and tap them against each others’, and for once Max doesn’t think a family could feel any better than this. 

  The second her eyes meet Lucas’s and her heart does a backflip, though, she knows she’s screwed on prom night. 

  (Not literally, she thinks.) 

  El sleeps over for the first time since finding out about Lucas and Max, and obviously she has a lot of questions. 

  Max lets El ask all of them, and she answers (most of) them honestly. Besides, there’s a bigger question she’d like to get answered, and it’s only fair if she gives El what she wants in return. 

  “When did it start?” El asks, sitting cross-legged in front of Max while she paints the redhead’s nails. Normally Max wouldn’t allow it, but prom night is in two days and she has no time tomorrow or the day of to actually get them done. “The hatefucking.” 

  “Please don’t call it that,” Max says, exasperated. “It was hatefucking. Not anymore. And uh, June.” 

  El almost drops the nail polish brush. “June?” she echoes. 

  Max nods. “Yeah, why?” 

  “You two have been having sex for a year?!” The brunette hisses. 

  “I mean, yeah?” Max says, slightly awkwardly. She looks down at her nails to avoid El’s eyes. They’re being painted a soft nude right now. The bottle of warm yellow polish by El’s foot suggest she’ll be using that later. “Well, technically, like, eleven months, but.” 

  El turns her focus back to Max’s nails. “Holy shit.” 

  Max laughs lightly. “Yeah, holy shit.” 

  “ Where did it start?” 

  The question, while definitely expected, still makes Max go bright red. “Um. The debate classroom.” 

  El chokes on air. “The huh?” 

  Cheeks on fire, Max continues, looking anywhere but at her best friend. “Lucas and I had to go in about a week into summer to pick up something for our summer assignments, specifically for seniors. And uh,” Max clears her throat awkwardly. “We ended up getting into a really heated argument about, fuck, I don’t even remember. And then we just stood closer and closer and I’m pretty positive I kissed him to shut him up and then we ended up, uh, yeah.” 

  “On the floor?” El asks, completely immersed in the story, yet utterly horrified.  

  “No!” Max says, a little too loudly. Then she drops her voice to not much more than a mumble. “On Ms. Nickels’ desk.” 

  “STOP.” El is absolutely mortified with this information, and Max is positive her flaming red cheeks aren’t doing much to help her situation. “Wait, you two definitely did not use protection that time, right?” Max is about to respond when El cuts her off “Wait, I do not want to know that. I am so sorry I asked.” 

  Max, face still heated up, nods in hopefully a nonchalant way. El looks genuinely curious as to what exactly went down, while completely appalled at the sheer idea of her best friend and boyfriend’s best friend having their first time on their teacher’s desk. “If it counts for anything, we cleaned it after.” 

  “Oh my God. You guys actually had sex on her desk.” 

  “She clears it out every year on the last day to clean it, and leaves it like that until the week teachers come back, so it’s not like we knocked anything over-” 

  El holds a hand up. “I’m changing the topic.” 

  “Please do,” Max says, hoping Steve isn’t outside listening in. 

  “Does Nickels know?” 

  Max coughs. “No, and I’d like to keep it that way.” 

  “...Does anyone else know?” 

  “Considering the blinds were shut and the door was locked, I hope not? No one was at school that day, I’m pretty sure. Nickels just stopped by Lucas’s place with the key to the school and classroom and I met him there,” Max replies, watching as El finishes up the nude paint on her fingernails. 

  The brunette pauses to cap the nude bottle, uncap the yellow, and take out a small toothpick. “No, not about your first time. I’ve learned way too much information about that. I meant about you two. Your not-hatefucking. Does anyone else know?” 

  Max nods, as El takes her left hand and begins strategically placing yellow dots on her nails. “Steve knows. He’s known, actually. Uh, Robin found out two weeks ago. She…walked in.” 

  “Oh God.” El blanches a little at the idea of possibly walking in on Max and Lucas, and honestly, the redhead does not blame her. “I’ve learned more about your relationship today than I think I bargained for.” 

  “Well, I think it’s time to just forgo this entire conversation,” Max quickly suggests, much to both their relief. 

  “I agree with that,” El immediately agrees. 

  “Besides,” Max starts, taking a deep breath. “I wanted to ask you something in return.” 

  El pauses her painting. “Max, I love you, but I really don’t feel like sharing the details about my sex life.” 

  Max feels her face automatically scrunch in disgust. “Ew, no. Please no. I was talking about, uh, feelings.” She whispers the last part, and El immediately finishes off Max’s nails and puts away all the polish. 

  She watches El’s eyes light up with recognition, and holy shit, it scares Max. She’s too scared to admit it out loud. Even if it’s her best friend, Max isn’t ready to say out loud that she’s in love with the boy she supposedly hates. 

  So, she lies. 

  “Mostly, like sibling-relationship feelings? Robin walked in on us a bit ago and I'm still trying to figure out how to apologize to her.” 

  El’s shoulders slump the slightest bit in disappointment, but Max holds fort anyway. She can’t have anyone know before Lucas does. 

  “Your prom dress is yellow, right?” Lucas asks suddenly the next night. One of his hands has tangled itself in her hair, the other wrapped snugly around her bare torso. 

  Max nods, then realizes he can’t see since her back is facing him. “Yeah. Warm yellow. Why?” 

  “I, uh, was thinking-” 

  “Sounds dangerous,” Max says, without thinking. 

  She doesn’t expect Lucas’s body to vibrate with laughter that rings through her body. Her heart clenches in a painful way when she realizes how much she’s smiling about it. 

  She is absolutely fucked. 

  “I was thinking,” Lucas says, continuing his previous thought. “We could go to prom together? As friends, not as dates. I mean, I know you want to do the stupid corsage shit Mike and El are doing, don’t even deny it.” 

  Max can’t help the mild gasp that escapes her. She pretends it’s fake and dramatic to cover up her true feelings, though. “Are you asking me to prom, Stalker?” 

  “Only if you want to,” Lucas replies seriously. “I know it’s last minute since it’s literally tomorrow, so if you don’t, forget I as-” 

  “I do,” Max says, hoping she’s not shaking with happiness. “But where are you going to get the corsages in time?” 

  Lucas chuckles. “Oh, how you doubt me, MadMax.” 

  “You are not going to bother your sister at work, Sinclair,” Max says, realizing. It's common knowledge that Erica works at Fields' Flowers, the local flower shop. It is also common knowledge that Erica would rather be mauled by a bear than see a familiar face at work.

  “I’m not going to bother her, Max,” Lucas says. “I’m just gonna go and maybe sweet talk Mrs. Fields into giving her favorite employee’s older brother some free or discounted corsages.” 

  Max rolls her eyes. “You really asked me for the color of my prom dress to get a matching corsage?” 

  “No,” Lucas answers, as if she’s stupid. “I asked you the color of your dress so I can match with my bow tie.” 

  “So what color will the corsages be?” Max asks, officially lost.

  Lucas just wraps his arm around her a little tighter in response. “You’ll see.” 

  “You’re a jerk,” Max responds. 

  “Well, looks like you’re going to prom with a jerk, then.” 

  Max is about to respond when Lucas puts his head on her shoulder and begins to rub small circles on the spot between her breast and ribcage. 

  “You’ll love it, I promise,” he simply whispers. Max wants to melt in his arms and whisper The Three Words to him over and over again until she falls asleep. 

  The corsage is orange. 

  It’s the exact same orange as her hair. 

  Max is pretty sure her soul leaves her body entirely when Lucas appears at her front door, frozen as he stares at her, and vice versa. 

  “You…you look great,” Lucas finally gets out. 

  Quickly patting at her hair, Max tries not to blush. “Thanks. El did my makeup before she went back to her house to meet Mike and Will.” 

  Okay, admittedly, the makeup is more than Max would ever wear. She only let El do it in the first place for two reasons: 1) it’s prom, and 2) the look on Lucas’s face she knows he’ll make. 

  It’s working. So well. The eyeliner El somehow flawlessly painted onto Max’s eyelids brings out the starking blue contrast in her eyes, and the red lip accentuates her red hair, which is in a half-up, half-down style. 

  (This is only ever going to happen once in her life. Makeup is not Max’s thing.) 

  Lucas, on the other hand, is in a simple suit adorned with a warm yellow bow tie. He cleans up nicely, and Max feels her heart palpitating inside her chest as she watches him short circuit in front of her.

  “Um.” Max looks at Lucas, who’s still standing in the doorway. “You coming in, or should we go?” 

  “Y-sorry,” Lucas says, snapping out of his trance. “Here you go.” He holds out her corsage, wrapping it around her wrist. “There.” 

  Max smiles up at him (she’s wearing simple flats underneath her dress, because she can’t walk in heels for the life of her). “Thanks.” She takes the other corsage and pins it near his heart. 

  “Picture time!” Steve hollers as he whips out his Polaroid. He snaps more pictures than necessary, before herding the two of them out into the driveway. 

  Max hops into Steve’s car, while Lucas gets into his own, and they drive to the Byers-Hopper residence to meet up with everyone else. 

  The two of them are in silence before Steve speaks up. “Sinclair’s a good kid. I’m glad you chose him.” 

  “Huh?” Max asks, turning her head to her brother. “What?” 

  “Listen,” Steve starts as he finds the right words. “I know the two of you didn’t get off on the right foot, but if it were out of all the guys in Hawkins, I’m glad Lucas is the one you decided to fall for.” 

  “What.” Max says flatly. 

  Steve laughs. “You’ve had this dopey smile on your face all day. I don’t want details, just promise me you use protection if-” 

  Max’s cheeks heat. “Not having this conversation with you.”

  “Okay, fine,” Steve replies, holding a hand up in surrender. “Just don’t break his heart, okay? Neither of you deserve it.” 

  Somehow Max feels like he’ll be the one breaking hers. 

  El, in all her midnight blue gown glory, swings the door open with a flourish, eyes lighting up at Max in her dress. “I told you this dress was the one,” she declares, practically pulling the redhead in her house. “Come on, we have to take pictures and go!” 

  Max enters, with Lucas and Steve behind her. 

  It hits her then that they didn’t exactly tell any of their friends that they’re prom dates. 

  “You two.” Will notices first, as he usually does. “Your corsages.” 

  Max flashes her wrist. “Oh yeah, uh, Lucas and I decided to just go as friend dates.” 

  “Since when are you guys friends?” Mike voices, suspicious. 

  Lucas laughs, wrapping an arm around Max’s waist in a surprisingly affectionate gesture. She only lets out the tiniest of squeaks in surprise before leaning into his side. “Just because we have some friendly fire doesn’t mean we’re not friends, Mike.” 

  Dustin clears his throat. “When did you ask her?” 

  “Oh, so I can’t ask Lucas to prom?” Max immediately interjects, raising an eyebrow menacingly. 

  “I, uh, I didn’t mean that, I just-” 

  Lucas saves Dustin from his suffering. “Last night. It was kind of last minute.” 

  “Interesting,” Dustin muses, while El gives Max a pointed look. 

  “Can we take some pictures before you all go?” Mrs. Byers cuts in with her camera, and Steve pulls his out as well. 

  The teens stand together for a solid two minutes and fight through flashes of cameras before they’re finally free. 

  El pulls Max aside under the pretense of fixing her up before they leave. “I don’t know what this between you and Lucas has become, but I’m glad you two are getting along.” 

  “It’s weird, but we’re figuring it out,” Max replies, forcing down the stupid smile making its way on her face.

  “He asked you last night after sex, didn’t he?” El asks bluntly, definitely seeing the dumb smile. 

  Red floods Max’s cheeks for the umpteenth time this month. “I’m leaving now.” 

  Prom is surprisingly enjoyable. Max originally thought it would be utter shit and just an excuse for the school to make a shit ton of money from $100 tickets, but it’s actually…decent. 

  The food isn’t the greatest, but it’s digestible. Of course the punch is spiked, and of course Dustin has a few cups. 

  Music is tolerable (there is such a thing as too much ABBA) , fucking Stacy is arguing with her stupid jock boyfriend in a corner of the room, and the teachers seem ready to leave the community center and the booze it reeks of to head home to their families. 

  El and Will are jamming out to Hit Me With Your Best Shot, her dress puffing out like a cloud every time she hops. Mike and Dustin are in a heated discussion about how their roommate situation will work at Caltech, and Lucas is standing with her at a tall table in a comfortable silence. 

  Max has learned during her time with Lucas that settling into a comfortable silence is something you’re only able to do with your true friends. And this is comfortable, it’s silent, and everything is right. 

  “You’re bored, aren’t you?” Lucas speaks into her ear over the music.

  Max would like to know how she’s still able to stand upright with his lips hovering over the shell of her ear. “U-Uh, yeah.” Seriously, Mayfield? Get it together. “Yeah, it’s pretty boring. But hey, spiked punch.” She raises her cup, only for Lucas to take it out of her hands delicately. 

  “We’re not drinking that. Wait for the real booze at Jennifer’s,” Lucas says, placing the cup down on the table. 

  “The real booze as in…shitty beer?” Max asks dryly. 

  Lucas is silent for a solid two seconds. “Shit, yeah, you’re right.” He hands the cup back to her. “Take the tequila punch.” 

  Max laughs, possibly cackles. She’s not sure which. “Thanks.” 

  Eternal Love by the Bangles starts playing, and Max watches as El perks up and essentially forces Mike Wheeler onto the dance floor to dance. 

  She doesn’t expect it, doesn’t exactly have this written down on her prom bingo card, but the second Lucas turns and dramatically holds a hand out to Max, she’s pretty sure she wouldn’t have left tonight if they didn’t dance at least once. 

  “Well, I did say yes to prom with you,” Max groans dramatically, getting out of her seat to take his hand. 

  Her hands settle comfortably on his shoulders, and he wraps his hands around her waist, pulling her in closer. Max lets her eyes meet his for a fleeting second, hoping her jaw isn’t on the ground from how softly he’s looking at her. 

  Max wants so badly to let him know how she feels. She’s been trying to find the courage to. Honestly, everything she’s been doing, every brave thing she’s wanted to do this past few months, it’s all been for him. Joining Hellfire despite everyone’s protests. Watching the last ten minutes or so of Lucas’s basketball practices/conditioning (the season’s over, but the team is full of gym rats, honestly), just so they can head to the library together later. 

  She doesn’t even care if people see them together anymore. They can all suspect all they want, but Max doesn’t even bat an eye as long as she gets to spend more time with Lucas. She would never call him her best friend before El, but he’s the closest thing to second now. 

  Life is so much more simple when they don’t have a label on their relationship. It’s not exactly even considered a relationship, considering they’re just really close friends that have no strings attached sex. 

  Yes, Max wants more. No, she will not pressure Lucas into anything he’s definitely not interested in. 

  This is more than enough. It won’t last much longer, but everything here in this exact moment is everything to her right now. 

  Somehow that thought ruins her more than Lucas Sinclair ever would. 

   Well, she thinks, as Lucas dips her dramatically and his hand crawls up her back to bring her back up. That’s what alcohol is for.

Chapter Text

The second the song ends and Max peels herself away from the dance floor, Lucas knows something’s wrong. The way she covers it up as being “not in her element” is enough for everyone except him to believe, and Lucas decides he’s going to figure out what it is that’s bothering her. 

 He really doesn’t get a chance to when they’re in his car, because Dustin is also in the backseat claiming that there’s more space. Dustin pretty much chatters Lucas’s ear off in the short ten minute drive, talking about everything and nothing, and honestly, Lucas is glad for the distraction.

  Then Max cuts in with an exasperated voice and asks Dustin to shut up until they get to the party so she can let the alcohol settle in, and Lucas’s original concern for her returns.

 Anyone would chalk it up to Max being her usual grumpy self, but this is different. 

  No, Lucas is not by any means an expert on the behaviors of Maxine Mayfield. But after studying every emotion she’s possibly been able to make, from happy to sad, angry to horny, aggressive to sarcastic, this seems to be a subcategory of angry, sad, and somehow forlorn? 

  So, yes, Lucas blames himself when an hour later, he finds Will barely holding up a very wasted Max. “Shit, I was supposed to be watching her,” Lucas mutters, poking at Max’s cheek to see if she’s going to fight him on poking her. 

  “It’s okay, Lucas,” Will says, with Max’s arm around his shoulder and his around her waist to hold her up. “You were talking to your basketball friends. Besides, I’m keeping an eye out too. But I think you should take her. She’s been mumbling your name for the past two minutes. I’m assuming longer.” 

  “Thanks, man,” Lucas replies, poking Max in the cheek again. She only giggles in response. 

  Will is somehow the Hawkins High guardian angel when it comes to parties, keeping an eye on everything while staying silent enough to be unnoticed. He safely gets drunk teens home, protects vulnerable almost-victims, and all does it without batting an eye. 

  Lucas isn’t surprised when it’s him that finds their friend absolutely plastered, and he’s endlessly grateful for that. 

  “I don’t think the sleepover at Mike’s is gonna work for her like this.” Will comments as he tosses Max’s other arm over Lucas’s shoulder. 

  “Yeah. Speaking of Mike, where is he?” Lucas asks, trying to look over the crowd of people. 

  Will shrugs. “He said we’d head to his place at midnight, and we’re about ten minutes out. I’m sure he’ll show eventually. Last I checked he’s still mostly sober. However, I did see him and El grinding on each other a few minutes ago, and I’m never going to unsee that. Dustin was singing Take On Me in a terrible British accent out on the lawn, so he’s definitely tipsy.” 

  “You gonna get them home okay?” Lucas asks. 

  “Yeah. I’ll drive them all to Mike’s place. Mike’s car is down a street, and I think he’s sober enough to get the two of them.” 

  Lucas claps a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Thank you for finding Max, Will. Really.” 

  Will smiles. “You taking her home now?” 

  “Yeah,” Lucas says, taking Max in his arms bridal style. Max lets out a little whee! as she’s lifted in the air. 

  “You’re good for her,” Will says. It completely throws Lucas off guard. This kind of compliment wouldn’t be so out of the ordinary if it weren’t for the context and Will’s lack of knowledge in their relationship. 

  Lucas nods anyway. “Call Max’s number when you get to Mike’s just to make sure everyone’s good?” 

  “Of course. Stay safe, Lucas.” 

  “You too,” Lucas says, taking Max and her (thankfully not-poofy) dress out of the house and into the quiet of his car. She ends up in the backseat because getting her to sit up straight in the passenger seat is too much of a hassle. 

  “Where’re we going?” Max mumbles about two minutes into their drive. 

  Lucas tries to keep a steady eye on the dark road in front of him and her in his rearview mirror. “Your house, Max. Is Steve home?” 

  “Ummmm,” Max draws out her thoughts, as if trying to collect them. It’s mildly unsettling seeing her like this, but her woozy smile is becoming one of Lucas’s favorite of Max’s smiles. “No, he’s with his new girlfriend tonight. I told him I was going to Mike’s, remember?” 

  “Ah,” Lucas responds, making a turn. “Take a little nap, MadMax. You’ll be tired tomorrow morning.” 

  Max pouts. “I am not tired, Lucas.” 

  She’s knocked out when he pulls into her street. 

  One thing Lucas has learned about Max in the past year of their relationship is that she snores when she sleeps. It’s not the adorable soft snores, it’s the fucking equivalent of a pig-snort snore. 

  He once mentioned it. It was a soft morning when he woke up first, listening to Max’s snores die out scattered breathing-turned delirious consciousness. 

  “You snore,” he said. 

  Max didn’t even bat an eye, only pressed her face closer into his side. “Is that going to be a problem?” 

  He didn’t mean it as an insult. It was just an observation. But the way she didn’t swat at him like she would do anyone else meant she knew what his intentions were. 

  They’d only been in this arrangement for two months. And she already knew what his half-awake mind was thinking at the ass crack of dawn.

  Her immediate reaction, snappy hiding the affection, gave him a clear way to respond to her. 

  “I don’t know, is it?” 

  She cracked half a smile. “If I snore, you’re a blanket hog.” 

  She immediately snatched the blankets back to her side of the bed after saying that with a snarky nose crinkle at him. 

  Oh, lord. Her ability to make all the organs in his body rearrange themselves and soften everything inside him is truly miraculous.

  It’s one of the many things he loves about her. 

  The door to Max’s room opens with a light kick as Lucas makes his way in with her in his arms. 

  Max starts stirring when she hears his soft grunt as he lifts her onto her bed. “Are we at home?” 

  “Yeah, MadMax,” Lucas says, trying to arrange her limbs so she won’t be uncomfortable. 

  “I don’t like this,” Max mumbles, her face almost smushed into her pillow as she fights Lucas’s attempts to get her situated in bed. 

  “What don’t you like?” Lucas asks, nudging her face away from the pillow so she doesn’t smother herself. “Being drunk?” 

  Max looks at Lucas with an adorable eye roll. “No, stupid.” She lifts the fabric of her dress with two fingers and releases it. “This. And the makeup. My face feels cloggy.” She wrinkles her nose. 

  Lucas reaches over around her head to let her hair down, and she sighs in relief. “I’ll help you get your makeup off, then get your pajamas, ‘kay?” 

  “Mhm,” Max nods, letting her much less coordinated fingers run through her hair. “I think El left some makeup wipes in the bathroom,” she calls as Lucas rummages through her bathroom cabinet and gets said wipes out. 

  “Alright, sweetheart, close your eyes so I can do this for you?” Max complies, her eyelashes fluttering as she closes her eyes. Lucas runs the wipe along her eyelids and sides of her face before wiping off the red from her lips. 

  When he finishes, he taps her cheek lightly to let her know he’s moving on, and fishes out an oversized tee that he’s positive she stole from his closet and a pair of sleep shorts. 

  “Here you go, Max,” Lucas speaks softly, as she opens her eyes. 

  Max immediately slowly stands up on her bare feet, and reaches behind her to loosen the bow at the back of her dress. It’s double knotted, so she can’t exactly get it out. This kind of dress specifically stays on her with the help of this strategically placed knot. There's no zipper, just this long fabric ribbon used to secure the wearer. 

  (The dress is backless, too. Lucas is surprised he's still breathing.)

  “Would you believe,” Max grunts, as her voice drifts in and out of random tenutos. She stops fighting the bow on her dress and sits down on the bed, looking up at Lucas. “That I only bought this dress for you to take it off?” 

  Along with being unnecessarily horny, Drunk Max doesn’t seem to have a filter. 

  It’s doing some things to Lucas and his hormones. 

  “While I would love to do that for you, sweetheart, I don’t think you’re sober enough for that.” 

  “Maybe you’re just not drunk enough for that,” Max observes, winking. 

  Lucas almost chokes on air. “You are going to regret all of this tomorrow morning.” 

  Max rolls her eyes, then scrunches her nose at what might possibly be the alcohol in her brain sloshing as a result. She continues working on untying the knot before she looks at Lucas again. “Help me?” 

  Lucas nods, and walks over to help her stand so he can get the knot undone. She looks up at him with cloudiness in her blue eyes, and there is definitely not much time left. 

  She’s gonna be knocked out in two minutes, Lucas knows. He’s seen the expression in her eyes in way too many of his basketball teammates’ eyes at parties. So he quickly reaches to undo the double knot before allowing her to tug at the fabric and let her dress fall to the ground. 

  It’s at this exact moment that Lucas realizes she’s not wearing a bra. It’s also at this exact moment that Lucas realizes Max is flourishing in her braless state, and would not want to wear one to sleep. 

  Max reaches for the shirt and has a bit of a difficult time pulling it over her head, so Lucas helps her put her arms and head through the right holes. 

  “I love this shirt,” Max hums as she sits down on her bed and Lucas helps her pull on her sleep shorts. 

  “You know,” Lucas speaks as he drags the fabric up and over her legs. “I’ve helped you take off your clothes numerous times. Helping you put them on, though, is a new one.” 

  Max’s cheeks turn bright red. “Is this weird?” 

  Lucas finally gets the shorts on her and lifts her legs onto the bed so she’s lying down. “Well, no, not really.” 

  He gets the blankets around her and is bringing back two tablets of Tylenol and a glass of water for the morning when she’s rolled over to her side and facing him. 

  “I thought you were asleep,” Lucas says, placing the pills and water down on her nightstand. 

  “I heard the phone ring,” Max replies, mumbling as if she was forced awake. “Was it Steve?” 

  Lucas shakes his head, letting his fingers tangle in her hair as they run down her shoulders. “Will was just checking in. Everyone’s settled at Mike’s now.” 

  “Mkay,” Max replies simply, dropping her head onto her pillow as Lucas continues playing with her hair. “Lucas?” she asks, as if she’s not sure if he’s still there. 

  “Yeah?” 

   Max gives him a soft hazy smile. “Stay?”  

  “My spare clothes are in the car, babe,” Lucas says. “I can go get them.” 

  “No.” The redhead glares at him as best as she can. “Stay.” 

  “I don’t have things to change into right now,” Lucas points out, wishing he did. 

  “You can just sleep in your boxers, stupid.” 

  Only Max would call him stupid while she’s drunk. Again, this is another reason Lucas is so damn head over heels for her. “You are one mean drunk,” Lucas comments as he sheds his prom attire. 

  He slides under the blankets and lets her roll (well, she kind of flops into a facedown position before he nudges her further) straight into his arms, breathing warm air onto his skin. She sighs contentedly, and for a blissful moment Lucas lets himself imagine this happening every day for the rest of his life. 

  If anyone told Lucas five years ago that he would come to discover that Maxine Mayfield is the most important person in his life, he would’ve laughed at them. 

  But as he continues watching her slowly fall asleep, Lucas wishes he could hold her forever. 

  “You know you’re my closest friend?” 

  She says it authentically, as if she’s never been more sure of anything. Lucas doesn’t think such a simple line is supposed to completely change the trajectory of possibly his entire life and brain function, but it does. 

  Max doesn’t seem to be waiting for a response, as she looks about as good as dead right now. But she’s not out yet, and Lucas decides he should probably respond to her anyway. 

  “I am?” 

  She smiles. “Yeah.” 

  Lucas keeps his eyes trained on her as she speaks. “I thought El was your best friend.” 

  Max’s eyes open to give him an eye roll before she closes them again. “Yeah, but you’re my closest friend. There’s a difference, Stalker.” 

  “Enlighten me, MadMax.” 

  “El’s my best friend because, well, I can talk to her about anything. But you’re my closest friend because you know me better than anyone else,” Max says, her words beginning to slur at the end. 

  “What do you mean?” Lucas asks, adjusting himself a little so she can curl into his chest easier. 

  Max speaks against his skin, letting the warm air from her breath bounce off of him. “Well, you always know where I want to be touched, even if I don’t know it. And you know the right time to do whatever you do.” 

  Lucas laughs. “That sounds a little more on the sex side of the spectrum, MadMax.” 

  “And you know when I’m losing my train of thought in debate so you change it up to help me win mock debates,” Max continues. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that.” 

  Max’s drunk words are a big neon sign flashing in Lucas’s face that she knows a lot more than she lets on. “You noticed all of that?” Lucas finally gets out. 

  “I notice everything you do,” Max mumbles, ready to drift off. 

  “Now who’s the stalker?” Lucas teases. 

  Max lets out the breathiest laugh. Or sigh, Lucas isn’t sure. 

  She hooks a leg over his hip, pushing herself up against his chest, and whispers in his ear. 

  “God, I am so in love with you.”

  Lucas entirely freezes at that statement. Max has definitely fallen asleep, leaving him alone with the earth-shattering statement ringing in his ears. 

  He’s very rarely speechless. In this very moment, Lucas isn’t necessarily speechless, rather his brain is forming too many thoughts at once to exit his mouth without it being alphabet soup. 

  Maxine Mayfield is in love with him. Well, drunk Max is in love with him. He’s not entirely sure about sober Max, but drunk words are sober thoughts, right? 

  So why didn’t she say anything? Lucas has been pining after this girl for the past two years of his life, absolutely head over heels, willing to die for her, and she’s also been harboring feelings while letting this arrangement continue on? 

  Lucas knows this girl is basically the end of him. But not like this. 

  He’s out of bed first the next morning, preparing to drive Max over to the Wheelers’ to meet up with everyone else. 

  The words are still replaying in his head, especially as Lucas watches her sleep. 

  When Max finally wakes, she immediately winces. “Ow.” 

  “There’s Tylenol next to you,” Lucas says, dressed in the spare clothes he’s gotten out of his car. 

  “How much did I drink?” Max croaks out, reaching over for the piece of toast Lucas has placed next to her before downing the pill. 

  Lucas shrugs. “Enough to be completely wasted when Will found you last night.” 

  “Shit, did I do anything stupid?” She rubs at her forehead, and moves to get out of bed. 

  “I mean, depends on your definition of stupid,” Lucas says pointedly. 

  Max gives him the best glare she can, clearly still fighting the pounding in her head. “Well, you’re stupid.” 

  Lucas rolls his eyes, glad she’s back from whatever truth serum was in the beer last night. “Do you remember anything from last night?” 

  “Well,” Max says, running her hairbrush through her hair delicately, “I remember dancing. Then Dustin being annoying as hell in the car. We got to Jennifer’s house, and I think El handed me a cup? Then I just…nothing.” She makes a releasing gesture with her right hand, demonstrating how little she remembers. “We didn’t…right?” 

  “Oh, not while you’re drunk. I would never,” Lucas immediately says. “I took you home, since there was no way you would’ve survived at Mike’s.” 

  “Okay,” Max says, looking down at her outfit. “Did you change me?” 

  “No, Steve did,” Lucas says sarcastically. He narrowly avoids the pen Max throws at him. 

  Max puts her hair on one shoulder and heads to her closet to pull out a t-shirt and jean shorts. She turns around, back facing him, and takes off the oversized tee she’s wearing. 

  “Jesus, give me a warning,” Lucas says, staring but not entirely not staring. 

  “You’ve seen it all!” Max calls over her shoulder, before she pauses. “I’m not wearing a bra.” 

  Lucas can’t fight the cocky smile that appears. “Like you said, I’ve seen it all.” 

  Max’s middle finger appears over her shoulder as she marches towards her closet. She reappears a few seconds later, fastening her bra on while facing Lucas. Her lips twist into a smile that is way too sexy for a hungover eighteen year old at ten in the morning. As soon as she's gotten it on, she pulls on the shirt and changes into her jean shorts. “So what’s happening now?” she asks, putting her arms around Lucas's torso and looking up into his eyes. 

  Lucas wants her to let go, for both of their sakes. But she's staring up at him as sober as hungover Max can get, her eyes are bright blue, and the puffiness in them shows off those smile lines he loves to kiss in the morning.

  “You seriously don’t remember…anything?” he asks, reaching his hands around her neck to brush her hair back.

  “Nope,” Max says, shaking her head. “If I did, I would tell you. Why, did I say anything stupid?” 

  Lucas shakes his head, almost too fast. “No, not at all. Of course not.” 

  Max doesn't seem convinced, so he slips a finger under her shirt and rubs a small part of her lower back. 

  "You didn't, babe. I promise." 

  It seems to work, as Max gets on her tiptoes to kiss him. Lucas doesn't want to ruin anything right now, so he reciprocates. 

  They're definitely late for the lunch meeting at the Wheelers'. Only El points it out with a mild smirk on her face. 

  “You’re acting different,” Max comments one day. They’re on the grass field at school, lying down and staring at the sky. 

  Lucas doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s true. To be fair, it’s not even his fault! Max drops a bomb on him one night only to forget it entirely the next morning, and expects Lucas to pretend nothing happened. 

  What’s worse, this is the literal girl he’s been pining after since sophomore year. Ever since the Byers-Hopper wedding, Lucas has been a complete utter disaster when it comes to Maxine Mayfield. 

  She had her hair down that day. It was curlier than usual, and by the looks of a partial braid left behind, Lucas deduced that she had slept in braids. Honestly, he’s surprised his brain managed to form that thought. 

  Max wore a simple floral slip dress and sneakers, since the wedding was on a field. She had a jean jacket around her shoulders that made her look both beautiful and badass at the same time. 

  When she made her way over to the rest of the Party and immediately made eye contact with Lucas, he knew he was screwed. 

  Her eyes, staring in his, were surprisingly not full of dislike, as per usual. They were just simply blue. Wondering, curious as to how this wedding would pan out. Innocent, even. 

  Lucas vividly remembers wanting nothing more in that moment than wishing her eyes were the ocean so he could drown in them. 

  The feeling was more than enough to confirm what he’d been questioning for a little while now: He, Lucas Sinclair, had a fat crush on Max Mayfield.

  (Did he almost trip over himself later that evening when she twirled with El on the dance floor? Yes.)

  “Lucas?” Max’s voice cuts through, soft and sweet. As if she doesn’t hate him. As if this entire situation between the two of them has just been a casual thing that doesn’t matter to either of them. 

  Which is a complete and utter fucking lie.

  Which is exactly why he lies in return. 

  “I’m just…stressed. College," Lucas offers. Max definitely narrows her eyes in suspicion, before rolling her eyes fondly and scooting closer to Lucas. 

  It’s a blithe Tuesday afternoon, with no basketball practice or debate rehearsals after school. Mike and El are on a movie date (Tuesdays are discount days), and Will is with Dustin planning their next Hellfire campaign. 

  They’re nearing mid-to-late May, where the weather is becoming warmer and no one stays after school anymore, opting to go to the mall or head down to the quarry instead. This, in turn, makes school the perfect spot for Lucas to pretend for half an hour that maybe this could be them in public. 

  Max laughs and exhales all in one breath, something Lucas has still been learning to get used to. “Tell me about it,” she sighs, rolling onto Lucas’s outstretched arm and leaning over to place her head on Lucas’s chest as if this is a natural thing they do all the time. 

  Lucas doesn’t know what’s happening, but he is here for it. Does he have to confront her about what she said on prom night? Definitely. But they’re here two weeks later, friendship still going strong, pretending that this arrangement won’t be ending in a few months. 

  His fingers rub the hem of her striped tee, and she pushes up her red sunglasses onto the top of her head so she can look at him better. The freckles on her face are more noticeable in this late spring sun, and Lucas wants to stop time just to count and kiss them all. 

  “A little off topic here, but," Lucas decides to speak, making sure he still remembers how to use his vocal chords. “The debate final has been rough.” 

  Max stops breathing for a second, and Lucas wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t notice everything about her. “Yeah, no, same. I mean, it’s been hard to put it into words, but valedictorian is definitely worth it if it means kicking your ass.”

  Lucas nods shakily. “Obviously. Yeah.” 

  “Mhm,” Max agrees, before closing her eyes again. “I’m gonna miss this.” 

   This could refer to their relationship. It could refer to senior year. Hawkins, even. Lucas isn’t entirely sure if Max is staying or not. Last he heard, she’s still on the waitlist for NYU. 

  There is absolutely nothing worse than not knowing what anything means anymore. 

  Lucas has had his debate final done for weeks now. He knows, is confident with every part of his soul, that fighting Max for valedictorian is not worth it. It’s not worth the pining, not worth the angst and the arguments between them. Even if he secretly loves watching her get fired up when they argue, no part of hurting each other is worth a fucking title and speech in front of a thousand people. 

  Max, on the other hand, has completely avoided the topic. Normally, Max would snidely mention that she’s finished this paper weeks ago, but this time it seems different. She’s being cryptic about it, and Lucas isn’t sure if she’s even already turned it in already. 

  He hopes she has a similar response to his, at least. 

  Somehow the worst part of all of this is that as time goes on, Max seems to genuinely not remember anything from prom night. 

  Dustin’s managed to remember his terrible rendition of Africa, and has spent the past week physically deceasing from the second-hand embarrassment as if the rest of the Party didn’t witness it with their own eyes. 

  Yet, Max is unable to recall a single thing she said that night after her supposedly third cup of shitty beer. 

  “I remember drinking three cups at least,” Max claimed the last time Lucas asked her. “The first one El gave me. Then the second I got myself, and the third one I remember Will tried to take out of my hands before he saw Lisa about to fall out a window and ran to save her. After that, nothing.” 

  It’s frustrating. 

  Every day Lucas wakes up he’s reminded that drunk Max is in love with him. Then he’s reminded that sober him is in love with every stage of Max, and that sober Max probably isn’t in love with Lucas. 

  These thoughts are cursed. 

  And, okay, Lucas and Max are friends. With some very good benefits. Even if the benefits are only part of the agreement on Lucas’s end to make Max happy, they’re still excellent benefits. 

  Except when they’re not exactly benefits and more misunderstandings. Because one day Max will help Lucas turn in his debate work and he’ll almost lean in to give her a peck on the lips after handing over his paper. 

  Sometimes he almost puts an arm around her torso when they’re lying down on the hill watching the sunset, then remember they’re surrounded by the rest of the Party. 

  They’re starting to slip up, and Lucas is sure Max knows it too. The weirdest part is, the slip-ups? Most, if not all of them, are indicated by Max herself. 

  The exact same girl who constantly reminds Lucas to keep this quiet is the one who runs into his arms after a Hellfire club win (she’s started to join. Eddie is very amused.) and presses her face into his chest. Max, who glares daggers into his soul whenever he so much as pats her shoulder in public, has begun publicly wearing shirts of his she’s stolen and mysteriously shrugging off every question from the Party. 

  Max, the girl who wrinkles her nose in disgust every time Mike and El hold hands under the table, is now reaching over under the table at lunch and during Hellfire Club to poke Lucas’s knee. She even lets him run his thumb over her knee and thigh when he can. 

  This, paired along with Max’s vehement insistence that this is just a thing that means nothing, is more than enough to confuse the hell out of Lucas. 

  Does she feel the same way or not? Drunk Max and subconscious Max seem to (and sleeping Max too, since she does curl into his side a lot), but conscious Max does not. Conscious Max snaps at Lucas in debate, snarks at him with their friends, and playfully pokes him in the side when they’re alone. 

  Conscious Max does not remember any part of prom night, and Lucas wishes he could forget it as well. 

  “What if this was real?” Lucas asks one night, thoughts of prom night still haunting everything in him. 

  Max laughs in a hum. “If this was real, it would ruin everything, baby.” 

  Oh, yeah. She calls him that now. It doesn’t help anything. All it does is liquify Lucas’s organs and force him to cover up the flip in his stomach by pulling her closer. 

  This might just be personal purgatory. 

  The end of the year assembly rolls around, with a rally incorporated into it for school spirit, per Principal Anderson’s request. 

  It’s bullshit, really. They have the same assembly every year, to promote spirit for finals week, and some sports teams come out to introduce themselves and put on an inspiring speech. 

  (The speeches are not inspiring.) 

  This year, however, the student council has decided to immerse an interactive game with the students to emanate a sort of spirit that literally nobody cares about. 

  The game happens to be a balloon popping war, with staple guns. 

  Lucas is positive whoever suggested the game is burned at the stake later on, because the staple gun war, a five-way battle, resulted in the Max Mayfield getting injured via staple graze. 

  The second the staple fired by the unlucky sophomore cheerleader Marie Sanders hit Max’s elbow, resulting in a mild “ow!” by said redhead, the entire game ceased. 

  Marie’s eyes, immediately widening, looked like a deer in headlights. Everyone dropped their staple guns and balloons, preparing for the worst. 

  If Max is known for one thing at Hawkins High, it’s the ability to exact revenge through smartassing and cutting down people to size. 

  (It’s another thing on the long list Lucas loves about her.) 

  Lucas is still on the court when he hears Dustin’s ever-iconic “Oh, shit.” 

  He meets Max’s eyes from across the basketball court, before dropping his gaze down to her elbow, which is adorned by a line of red. 

  Lucas doesn’t believe in a higher power or anything like that, but he’s praying to every one out there that Marie Sanders makes it to graduation.

  There’s a silent conversation they have before Max turns around the stalks in the direction of the girls’ locker room. 

  After the game is reset (who even let this game exist?), Lucas follows her into the room, closing the door and thanking every higher power that it’s empty. “You good, Max?” She’s sitting on a table, the first aid box next to her as she cleans a cut on her elbow from the slip. 

  “I’m fine,” Max says. “You should head back to the rally. You’re the star basketball player, anyway.” 

  “I already did my speech thing. Now it’s just the principal’s speech about togetherness through finals or some shit. That’s less important than this is. How is it?” He asks, gesturing to her elbow. He nears her, and she looks up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes he can’t ever get enough of. 

  “What, you wanna kiss it better?” Max deadpans. 

  Lucas rolls his eyes. “You wish.” The redhead stares at him for a moment longer than normal and he decides to continue. “But really. Is it okay?” 

  Max shrugs, wincing the slightest bit as she applies a cotton gauze of rubbing alcohol to the wound. “I skateboard. It’s been worse. This won’t take too long to heal, maybe three days? It’s not that bad, I swear.” 

  Lucas steps forward, reaching her and taking the bandage she has placed down beside her. “Here, I got you.” 

  “Don’t hurt yourself,” Max teases, bringing her elbow closer to him. She lets her knees part so he can stand closer to her, and Lucas tries to think of everything except the fact that he’s standing so close to her. 

  He slowly places the bandage on her cut, making sure it’s sticking correctly before letting go. “There.” 

  “Thanks,” Max breathes.

  Her hair has been recently tugged out of its messy ponytail, orange flowing down one shoulder. A lock has fallen into the cleavage of her low-cut electric blue tank top she’s decided to wear today.

 “Listen, El said it looks hot. I was going to try something,” Max says at lunch when Mike points it out. 

  El gives her a winning grin from across the table. “It does, Max. Brings out your eyes.” 

  “You know how many guys in math asked me for her number?” Mike asks, fake-gagging. 

  “I mean, if Max was my type, I’d ask her for her number,” Will voices, looking up from his drawing. 

  El smiles even wider at Max. “I told you, Maxie. This top is making people lose it. It’s working.” 

  “Working?” Dustin asks. “What’s her top supposed to work?” 

  El only looks at Max again, giggling. Everyone turns back to their lunch and the planning for their final campaign.

  “It’s definitely working, isn’t it?” Max whisper-drawls in Lucas’s ear. When she makes eye contact with him, she’s “fixing” her necklace at the hollow of her throat. 

  Lucas almost chokes on his soda. 

  Max only winks at him in return, and joins El and Will’s conversation about their English assignment.

  Lucas reaches up to grasp a lock of hair at the crown of Max’s head, before letting his hand move through its softness. When his hand lands near her chest, he slowly reaches in to fetch the strand of hair with a single finger, curling it around and placing it softly with the rest of the pile of hair on her shoulder. 

  He drops his eyes down to Max’s, which are definitely pulsing with desire. She doesn’t really need to give him permission to kiss her, just lets the slightest upward lift of her lips give her consent away. 

  “Max-” 

  “Yes,” Max replies, with zero hesitation. Lucas immediately sweeps in and draws her in, capturing her lips in a soft yet heated kiss.

  Her hands reach up his arms and around to the back of his neck, one hand going up to play with his hair. His hair, the two of them learned, is a soft spot for him. She can tug on it the slightest bit and have him give in to everything she does. With Lucas’s hands wandering in her long curls as she leans forward to press herself closer into his body, Max’s legs lock tightly around his torso, and slowly allows her mouth to open, letting this go further than they usually would. Max’s tongue slips into Lucas’s mouth, grazing his teeth, as her hands slowly slip under his jersey, feeling the defined lines on his stomach. 

  Her lips still nipping at his lightly, she takes the hem of his jersey in her small fingers and pulls them up and over his head, dropping it on the table beside her. Max lets her hands then roam up and down his chest and arms, poking at his biceps and titters softly as she lets her lips pucker slightly in amusement. 

  As soon as she separates her lips from his slightly to catch her breath, Lucas turns his head and starts kissing her neck. Does Max’s head immediately fall back? Yes. Will Lucas do it again and again to get that from her again? Hell. Yes. After kissing this girl for the past almost year, Lucas knows every spot and every reaction it’ll result in. He knows which part of her body will elicit the breathiest moans, which parts will cause him to be kicked in the side. Of course, he also knows exactly when she’ll open her mouth during a kiss, when she’ll move to take off her own shirt, et cetera. 

  Max takes Lucas’s head in her hands and brings his mouth back to hers, his hand on her waist. Two of his fingers in his free hand find a belt loop on the waistband of Max’s jeans, and tug her closer. 

  “This fucking top,” Lucas mumbles into Max’s lips. 

  She only smirks in return, leaning back the slightest bit to look Lucas in the eye while she responds. “It worked.” 

  Lucas has to withhold a groan as Max gently kisses him again, slowly removing his hands from her waist to her thighs. “You’re annoying.” 

  “Everything you’re doing right now says otherwise,” Max purrs, her tongue darting out just the littlest bit to lick at his lips. 

  Lucas smiles against her lips and lifts her up off the table, keeping his hands under her thighs (okay, maybe on her ass a bit, but the little whine in the back of her throat says this is more than okay) to hold her steady as he pushes her up against a row of lockers. Their chests pressed against each other, the slope of Max’s neck as she has to lean down to take Lucas’s lips in hers, it’s all just pure. Fucking. Ecstasy. The taste of the mint he watched her pop into her mouth on the way into the locker room still lingers on her tongue, and Lucas decides this is his new favorite mint flavor.. 

  “God, you’re-” Max tries to speak, only to be cut off when Lucas suddenly realizes what this is doing to the both of them.

  He immediately pulls away, almost dropping Max in the process. “What are we doing, Max?” 

  “Wha-” Max regains her footing, wiping at her very swollen lips. “What do you mean?” 

  “What are we doing?” Lucas says again. “Why do we keep doing this?” 

  Max walks around the aisle, only to turn to him again. “Doing what? Making out? Having sex?” 

  “Pretending, MadMax.” Lucas wishes he could form all his emotions and thoughts into words, but no combination of the 26 letters of the alphabet could ever sum it up correctly. “This, this is something that’s too much for either of us.” 

  The humorless laugh Max lets out in response catches him far too off guard. “Baby, you have no idea.”

  Lucas looks at her, trying to figure out where this came from. She doesn’t remember what she said on prom night, does she? “Is this something? Or is it nothing, Max? Because every time we try to talk about it, we sum it up to nothing.” 

   “I don’t fucking know, Lucas,” she snaps. “I don’t know if this is something or nothing. Because it doesn’t matter.” 

  “Is this your idea of a fucking joke?” Lucas bites out at her. 

  This makes Max freeze and look at him. “What?” 

   Lucas stands his ground. “What is this, Max? Don’t give me some half-assed answer. I want the truth. Because this is fucking complicated, and I want to know how much further you’re going to let this go on for before it destroys me.” 

  “Destroys you?” Max echoes, thoroughly lost. 

  If he weren’t so desperately in love with her, Lucas would’ve missed it. But his fire is raging, and he’s not stopping. “Yeah, me. This is a year of time I’ve been setting aside for you, for this. But if this is just going to be meaningless to you, what’s the point? I know you, Max, and I know you never do anything without a purpose, but this…this is insane.” 

  Max’s cheeks turn red with anger this time, her eyes blazing a sharp blue. “You really think this is nothing? Fine, it’s nothing. Because I’m not wasting my time on this anymore. We spend a year like this with neither of us asking any questions, and now suddenly because we’re friends you think you’re entitled to knowing everything about me? That’s not happening.” 

  “I’m not entitled to knowing everything about you, I’m just worried! You only have Steve now, and when he’s not here you-”

  “Don’t you fucking bring my family into this, Lucas. I know I have a shitty one but that does not excuse you to make it a point in your argument,” Max seethes, poking into his chest aggressively. Her eyes fog up with unshed tears, and Lucas is in physical pain.  

  He wishes he could hold her and cry into her hair and apologize for hurting her like this. He wants to reach forward and wrap her in his arms and press his lips into the crown of her head and tell her that this is all a misunderstanding, that it’s just a bad dream. But if it’s the safest way for her to leave before this gets worse, he’ll do it. He has to make her hate him. 

  “Why do you always push people away, Red?” He asks softly. 

  Max stops all movement for a short moment. “I don’t,” she settles. “People just leave before I get the chance to get close to them.” 

  “Is that why you don’t let this become more than friends?” Lucas asks. “Because I’m going to leave?” 

  “What?” Max asks, thoroughly confused. “What do you mean, more than friends?” 

  “Nothing,” Lucas hurriedly responds. “You just…you’re acting different lately.” You’re making this feel like it could be real. 

  Max laughs haughtily, leaning against the row of lockers opposite him. “What, and you’re not? You’ve been looking at me different, like I’m…hiding something. Like you know something I don’t.” 

  “Because I do!” Lucas tries not to raise his voice, but this is such a hair-pulling conversation. How can she not know? 

  “You are so fucking insufferable,” Max spits at him, for possibly the sixth time this month. “Tell me, then, Sinclair. What is it you know that I somehow don’t?” 

  “What you said on prom night!” Lucas finally yells, hands up in the air like a madman. “I know what you forgot you said on prom night, Max. And it has been destroying me for the past two weeks because I can’t do anything about it.” 

  Max freezes. Physically stops moving. She stays that way, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, for a solid four seconds before she finds it in herself to speak. “What did I say?” she whispers.

  Lucas looks her in the eye, sees the terror in them, and he knows. He knows she knows what she said. “You know what you said.” 

  “Why is it destroying you?” she asks, her voice so soft he wouldn’t have heard it if he weren’t paying so close attention to her. 

  “Max?” Lucas keeps his voice perfectly even. “I’ve been in love with you since sophomore year.” 

  He sees the exact moment all the words put together clicks in her brain. Her mouth falls the slightest bit open, and when she blinks, an actual, honest to God, tear, rolls down her cheek. “Fuck you, Lucas Sinclair,” she growls out, before exiting the locker room out the back door. 

  Out of all the responses he could’ve gotten, this was not it. Lucas lets himself fall against a locker, sitting on the ground as he tries to figure out where he went wrong. He's never seen Max cry before, not even when her asshole of a stepdad and Billy were still around. There's no way him confessing would bring a single tear down her cheek. 

  So...what the hell. 

Chapter Text

The first time it almost slips out, they’re making out in the computer lab. 

  No one ever comes in during lunch, since there’s no food allowed inside. After a quick lunch, Lucas had asked her to go with him to go meet with Nickels about the final. She followed him until  they reached the computer lab, locked and blocked the door, and turned to Max with possibly the most wicked smile on his face. 

  (So Max has been taking it upon herself to be a little more forward with Lucas. And yeah, maybe trying on one of El’s redder lipsticks for fun might be a little too forward. But it’s worth it if it means Lucas’s eyes will keep dropping down to her lips during lunch,) 

  They end up on a chair far enough away from the stream of light through the small window on the door. Lucas is sitting on it, hands tracing up and down Max’s thighs and hips, while she straddles him. Her legs are each on one side of Lucas as their lips meet again and again, becoming more desperate and heated as time goes on. 

  Max’s hands wander down to Lucas’s chest and around his arms, because fuck, she can never get enough of this. Everything about Lucas is a drug that she would kill to be high on. 

  “God, I l-” Max realizes what she’s about to say, and panics, covering it up. “I literally cannot breathe, hold on.” She lifts her face away from Lucas’s for a second and watches as he wipes the red off his lips. Her knees are fucking weak. 

   “Take your time, sweetheart,” Lucas replies. He smiles wickedly up at her, and Max wants to tell him so bad. 

  She fights that thought by pressing her lips to his again, slightly rolling her hips. Lucas’s hands are still on them, swaying with her. 

  “We have more time for that tonight, MadMax,” he whispers huskily in her ear when it almost becomes too much for her to not go further. 

  Lord, Max wants to tell him.  

  Max finds herself at El’s house. Her one place of comfort when everything goes to hell is El’s room, where everything is quiet and pastel, like nothing bad ever happens. 

  El, ever the emotionally intelligent one in their friend group (save for Will), immediately pulls Max into her room the second she sees the redhead’s tearstained face. 

  (Max pulled her shitty car over twice on the way during this ten minute drive to sob.) 

  So naturally, Max collapses onto El’s bed immediately. It’s soft and bouncy, enough for Max to calm her nerves the slightest bit. 

  “We have finals next week,” El says, closing the door. “Is that what you’re worried about?” 

  “One,” Max says, lifting her face from El’s mattress, “I don’t have a final, except for my debate paper. AP exams are my finals.” 

  El rolls her eyes in of course they are, before getting onto her bed with Max. “So what’s bothering you?” 

  “Lucas.” 

  “Elaborate,” El says, fishing out the bags of candy she stashes under her bed for these situations. Max almost wants to cry at the fact that her best friend knows her this well. 

  As packets of M&Ms fly onto the bed, Max says the hardest part first. “I’m in love with Lucas.” 

  El’s head pokes up from under the bed. “Finally!” She hops on next to Max, legs crossed in anticipation. Her eyes scan Max’s face again, and she relaxes. “Oh no. Did you tell him?” 

  “No!” Max says, a little too abruptly. “Well, it kind of went the other way.” 

  “I’m gonna need you to explain a little further,” El says, opening a bag of M&Ms and holding it out to Max. 

  So Max explains. Prom night, how everything went down, and how she’s almost positive she fucked up at some point while drunk. “And he’s been telling me I didn’t do or say anything stupid on prom night, but I know I confessed. I could see it written all over him, El. Lucas is just protecting himself from the truth, I know, but it hurts, ” Max cries into El’s pillow at the end of the rant. 

  “So.” El tilts her head, trying to understand what’s happening. “You’re in love with Lucas, he’s in love with you, but you told him you love him while you were drunk and he doesn’t think you meant it. And your stupid debate final is making you second guess everything because while valedictorian is definitely not worth all of this shit, it’s probably worth beating Lucas just because you’ve worked this hard for this long enough. You also don’t want your arrangement to end because I bet he gives you a banger of a time-” 

  “Not funny,” Max snipes at El, who dodges the M&M the redhead throws in time. 

  El reaches forward for an M&M, popping it into her mouth. “As I was saying. You’re now a little too physically attached to Lucas and whatever it is you guys do at night, and you don’t want it to end. However, college is a bitch and it’s going to happen unless you do get into NYU. Even then, it’s four hours away from Syracuse. If you don’t get into NYU, and NYU would be stupid if they didn’t let you in, you’ll only be able to see Lucas when we all come back for break, and you guys would only get like, two weeks to fit in months of build up horniness-” 

  “Lord.” Max knows El’s trying to be lighthearted about it to make her feel less shitty about the entire situation, and while it’s making her smile the tiniest bit, it’s a bit brutally honest. “I don’t even know anymore, El. It’s like…it’s like I’m wanting something I can’t have, but now there’s a door open for that and I don’t know how to cross it.” 

  “You’ve kind of been doing that lately, though, right?” El asks, a little tentatively. 

  Max’s hand stops on the way for another M&M. “Huh?” 

  Twirling a piece of hair around her hair nervously, El continues. “I just noticed that these past few weeks you’ve kind of been sticking closer to him than usual? Like, sitting next to him more, et cetera. I don’t know.” 

  “Oh, that.” Max tries not to blush. “It’s just my brain not thinking before actually doing. It’s a lot worse in private, but less embarrassing.” 

  “We’re entering this part of your sex life with Lucas that I don’t want to know about,” El warns. 

  Max smiles, and looks down at the blanket she’s been picking at. “Sorry.” 

  “Can I ask, though, real quick?” 

  Max looks up. “Ask what?” 

  El fidgets for a short moment, before asking the question Max has been waiting she’d ask. “Why’d you let this continue after the first time?” 

  Even though she’s been preparing for this question for a while, Max pauses to find the right words. “It takes thirty days to build a habit.” 

  Thoroughly lost, El still nods along. “Um. Okay.” 

  “By the time we started our arrangement, I’d spent four and a half years despising everything about his existence. And I thought, maybe this is a way to get to know him better.” 

  “You sure did,” El comments. 

  “Eleanor Hopper.” 

  “Sorry.” 

  Max rolls her eyes. “Not like that, obviously. I meant, like, maybe I’d find something to like about him so I wouldn’t always be sniping at him. Because honestly, I was running out of things to hate about Lucas.” She looks at El’s face and the raised eyebrow. “Okay, and the sex was pretty good.” 

  El almost screeches at the confession. 

  “Back on topic. I don’t know how to fix this,” Max says. 

  The girl in front of her ponders the situation for a bit before she indulges Max in her thoughts. “You know, when you first told me you were sleeping with Lucas, a part of me wasn’t entirely surprised.” 

  Max’s mouth falls open a little. 

  “You definitely don’t know about this, but remember the time we all took a road trip to Indianapolis?” El asks. “It was spring break of junior year.” 

  “Yeah,” Max says, not sure where this is headed. “Lucas spent the whole time complaining about missing basketball conditioning so he ended up going on a lot of runs at night.” 

  El smiles a bit at the memory. “You fell asleep on the way back. I wouldn’t blame you, honestly. But yeah, you did. And you were riding shotgun. Lucas was driving, since he was the only one who had his license long enough to do so. We were about half an hour out from Hawkins when we all decided to stop by a diner to pick up a bit of food. And on the way there, Lucas almost hit a stop sign because he was too busy staring at you. I don’t think anyone noticed but me. Mike and Dustin and Will were all talking about a fucking campaign, but I saw.” 

  Max nods awkwardly. “And…your point is?” 

  “I knew Lucas had feelings for you, Max. I just didn’t know how strong they were until that moment. So I guess it wasn’t entirely surprising when you guys started sleeping together, because I knew he wouldn’t be against it. And I’m your best friend. I’ve seen you ogling him when we take you to his games.” 

  “Oh.” Max definitely doesn’t remember the car thing, but everything about that is just magnifying the deep shithole she’s dug herself. “God, I shouldn’t have drunk so much on prom night. I ruined everything, and all I want to do is fix it. All I have are stupid emotions right now, and I’m trying to put them into words.”

  "And how is that going for you?" El asks, concerned. The evident how the hell did you get yourself into this is written all over the brunette's face, and Max tries not to wince. 

  “Horribly,” Max sighs. “I’m hurting the both of us, and I’m supposed to fix it. How am I supposed to do that?” 

  El reaches for Max’s knee gently, patting it. “Tell him how you feel?” 

  “No offense, El, but that’s kind of a dumb idea. If I tell him how I feel, he’ll be upset that I never said anything.” 

  “But you did. On prom night. You were just hammered,” El points out. 

  Outside, the sun is still bright despite it being almost five thirty. Max looks out at the sun, still in the sky and shining through El’s window, before sighing. “That’s just making it worse, because I had to let a less capable part of me admit it to his face.” 

  “Okay, let’s back up a little bit.” El adjusts her position so she’s sitting up straight. “How is this entire situation making you feel?” 

  Max lets the words come to her. "I'm sort of…ashamed, honestly." 

  The answer surprises El, who sits up straighter. "What do you mean? What are you ashamed of?" 

  Max lets the previous tears return to her eyes, blinking them back. "That I let him pull me close just to let him go." 

  “Oh, Max.” El pulls the redhead into a hug. “You know there’s nothing you could do to let him go, right? He always comes back. It’s Lucas’s personality.” 

  “This is so stupid,” Max says, letting the tears flow now. “He once said I always push people away, and that’s what I’m doing right now. And now he’s made it a part of him to always come back, I-” 

  El smiles when she pulls back. “So now you know he’s a good one. Get him before it’s too late, Maxie.” 

  “Never call me that again.” 

  “Sorry.” 

  “But I do know what to do with my debate final now.” Max smiles, gets up, and pulls El into another quick hug. “None of this is worth that title,” she whispers in El’s ear, much to her delight. 

  El smiles even wider. “Tell Lucas that.” 

   “We’re almost there,” Lucas says, pulling into an almost dark dirt trail. 

  Max looks out the window. “By almost, do you mean we have some walking to do?” 

  “Yep,” Lucas chirps, unbuckling his seat belt and reaching into the backseat for a backpack. “Come on, you’ll like this, I promise.” 

  “You know, I don’t think dates are part of this arrangement,” Max comments as they head up the hill. 

  Lucas laughs. “Friends can hang out and not make it a date, MadMax.” 

  Max hopes her heart doesn’t squeeze too tightly. Some part of her definitely wishes this was a date. She continues walking, a little faster up the hill to catch some of the spring breeze. 

  When they get to the top, Lucas places his backpack down, taking things out of it. “Here you go.” He holds out a paper bag to her, and Max opens it, eyeing the plethora of candy inside. 

  She looks back at him, and he’s setting out a blanket so the grass doesn’t scratch their exposed legs since they’re both wearing shorts. “What’s happening?” Max asks, settling down on it. 

  “I’m assuming you’ve never gone stargazing,” Lucas says. 

  Max’s heart leaps in her throat. Lucas definitely knows that she’s never gone stargazing, since it’s been an item on the bucket list pinned to her wall’s corkboard for a while. But she never expected him to actually do something about it. “You saw my list?” 

  Lucas stretches out, then lies down on his back. “I’ve been in your room more times than El at this point, babe. Of course I saw your list.” 

  Lying down next to him, Max takes out a Snickers bar and hands it to him. “So you gonna take me to see Tony Hawk one day too?” 

  “Oh, you wish,” Lucas replies, opening the candy bar and taking a bite of it. “There’s no way I’m ever taking my favorite skateboarder to see her favorite skateboarder.” 

  Max is glad it’s dark so he can’t see her smile. “I’m your favorite skateboarder?” 

  “You’re my favorite a lot of things.” He holds out the last half of the candy bar, and Max takes it. 

  “Really? Like what?” 

  Lucas takes his time answering. “Study partner for sure. You’re definitely up there as my favorite sex partner somewhere-” 

  Max flicks at his arm, and Lucas collapses into laughter next to her. “Not funny, Lucas.” 

  “Fine. You’re my favorite.” 

  “I’m also your only,” Max points out. 

  Lucas turns on his side and raises an eyebrow. “You sound really sure about that.” 

  Max laughs. “Please. You didn’t even know how to interact with girls before you became friends with El and me.” 

  “Fair.” 

  They make eye contact a little longer than they should, and Lucas reaches out to tap Max’s nose. 

  “You definitely are my favorite person, I’ll admit,” he says softly. 

  Max fights the smile, but it’s a little too obvious. “You might be mine too, then.” 

  “I sure hope so,” Lucas replies, cheekily. “Your cheekbones are gonna get stuck with you smiling like that, Red.” 

  “Shut up,” Max mutters, trying to not smile. 

  “Make me.” 

  And so Max leans in to kiss him, as if they’re a real couple on a real date staring at the stars. 

  The debate final paper is written in two days. One weekend. By the end of it, Max’s wrist is absolutely exhausted from writing (typing is a thing, but it’s more from the heart like this, Max feels), but it’s worth it. 

  She finds Nickels at lunch, placing the papers on her desk. “Do you think you can grade it by end of class?” 

  Nickels places her salad down and takes a small sip of water before looking at the binder paper. “You’re a week early.” 

  “Yeah, and?” Max fidgets in her spot, massaging her still-sore wrist. 

  The teacher sighs, not disappointedly. “You handwrote this?” 

  “Over two days, yeah. Is it too long?” Max asks, hoping her eye bags aren’t showing too badly. 

  “This is…” Nickels fingers through the pages. “Impressive.” 

  “It’s only two pages,” Max says. “Typed, probably one page or longer.” 

  Nickels chuckles. “Well, I always told you to stop writing Bibles and keep your word count at less than a thousand.” Her eyes scan the first page, and she smiles softly. “I’ll give this back to you by the end of class, Max.” 

  “Thank you,” Max breathes, smiling. “I kind of need it by then.” 

  “Of course. Now go to lunch.” 

   Max stands a beat longer, remembering how this is where it all started. After a slight eyebrow raise from Nickels, she quickly leaves. 

  “Sinclair,” Max greets at the front of the school building. “This isn’t the debate classroom, dumbass.” 

  “I know,” Lucas shoots back. “I was just making sure you knew how to get there.” 

  Rolling her eyes, Max pushes past him to get to the classroom in question. “Nickels got you the key?” 

  Lucas simply holds a gold key up. “Watch, Mayfield.” He sticks the key into the lock and twists it. The door opens with little fanfare, and Max heads in. 

  “Where is it supposed to be?” She asks, looking around. The summer assignment is supposed to be in here somewhere, and Max would very much like to get started on it. 

  “In her desk,” Lucas responds. “She said it should be unlocked. And we should get out of here after we get it. No one else is here and it’s creepy.” 

  Max digs through the drawers. “Then turn on the lights, idiot. The blinds are closed and neither of us are tall enough to reach it.” 

  Lucas gives her a straight stare. “We can see fine in here.” 

  “You were literally just-” 

  “Did you find the assignment or not?” Lucas interrupts, heading next to her to dig through the drawers. 

  Max elbows him aside so she can look better, and pulls out the assignment. “Here.” 

  “You didn’t have to shove me out of the way,” Lucas snaps. 

  “Well, you didn’t have to be in the way,” Max bites back. She stares him down for a moment. “You know you’re really insufferable?” 

  “You’ve mentioned it, Mayfield.” Lucas flips through the assignment. “You’re also insufferable. I can’t believe you’re running against me for valedictorian.” 

  Max laughs humorlessly. “I would’ve run for president too if I wasn’t swamped with my own shit.” 

  “Oh, aren’t we ever the overachiever?” 

  “Die,” Max barks. 

  “I would, but I’d rather outlive you instead,” Lucas replies. He smirk-grins down at her. “Besides, my life is much too interesting to be cut short this early.” 

  Max rolls her eyes yet again. “Oh, so I’m boring?” 

  Lucas chuckles. “Of course you are, MadMax. You have the exact personality of the tomboy in every movie and TV show.” 

  “You’re a dick,” Max snipes. 

  “You’re just plain embarrassing to be around,” Lucas shoots back. 

  Max straightens up to look at him in his eyes. “I hate you.” 

  Lucas only smirks in response. “I hate you too, Red. You, as well, are fucking insufferable.” 

  They’re brushed so close to each other, Max is literally breathing the air he is. “You stole my line,” she says, softer than she intends. Her heart is pounding unnecessarily hard. 

  “Well, you just used it before I could think of it.” 

  “Jesus, you’re an idiot,” Max says, feeling an overwhelming urge to do something absolutely unforgivable. 

  Lucas shrugs, noticing the change in her behavior. “Yeah, Max, I notic-” 

   Oh, just fuck it. Max gets on her tiptoes and all but pushes her lips into his. She’s about to pull away when she feels his hands wrap around her back and press her closer to him. 

  Listen, this is not Max’s first kiss. It’s not Lucas’s, either. They’ve dated other people, and while those could barely last more than three months, this kiss is different from the rest. 

  When Max dated Ben Lane, he kissed like he was eating her face alive. And Max has seen Lucas with Sally Farland and watched how fucking stiff Lucas would stand when she kissed him awkwardly.

  So…yeah, it’s safe to say neither of them have had a good, sufficient kiss until now. And lord, this is taking Max away into wherever angels get their wings from. 

  She would never admit it, but Max secretly loves romance novels. So of course she knows how to kiss. And she’s pretty sure Lucas wouldn’t touch one to save his life, but she swears he’s doing it exactly like in those books. 

  Their kiss, still somehow not quite registering in her brain yet, begins to escalate, enough so Max falls on top of Nickels’ desk. She reaches a hand out to steady herself, and ends up sweeping their papers to the floor in the process. Her free hand weaves itself around Lucas’s shoulder and onto his neck, even as they’re literally right laying flat on their teacher’s desk. “The doors are for sure locked and no one’s coming in, right?” Max gasps out. 

  “I don’t think so,” Lucas replies, catching his breath. “Why-” He takes a look at her, and Max curses herself for realizing how turned on she looks. Well, to be fair, she’s pretty sure he is right now, too, from the blown pupils. “You sure?” 

  “Only if you are,” Max replies, forgetting that they’re literal enemies. 

  Lucas lowers himself a little, just so his face is a mere inch away from hers. “No going back once we do this,” he whispers. 

  Max nods. “Fuck it.” 

 

  (Later if Steve wonders why she’s home two hours later than she said she would be, Max will blame it on the arcade bringing a new game in.) 

  Unsurprisingly, Lucas makes it a point to avoid Max all day long. She doesn’t blame him for it. After all, she did just scream at him as if she did nothing wrong, when she unintentionally messed with his emotions and landed multiple blows in everything he believed in. 

  Also unsurprisingly, Lucas’s nose scrunches up the slightest bit in annoyance when Nickels places the graded debate final on Max’s desk with a large A+ and a note to see her after class. It almost makes Max smile at him. But even looking at him hurts too much right now. Everything he does makes her heart twist even further. 

  Hopefully she’ll resolve this by the end of today. 

   “Before we actually let this continue, I want to make two solid ground rules,” Max says, cross-legged on her bed by the pillows. Lucas is at the end, looking at her while she speaks. 

  “Okay, what are they?” 

  Max holds up a finger. “One. No one can find out.” 

  Lucas rolls his eyes. “Obviously. I don’t want to lose my cool factor with anyone.” 

  “And we just can’t let anyone know,” Max says. “Not even the Party. Not El, not Mike, Dustin, Will, anyone.” 

  “Yeah. Of course,” Lucas agrees. 

  “And two-” Max holds up another finger, before placing her hand down. “All arguments should be resolved, or forgiven, at the end of the day.” 

  Lucas actually sits up at that, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Interesting rule.” 

  Max sighs, picking at the corner of her pillowcase. “Listen. My mom had two failed marriages, both because communication was not a thing. I don’t want this to be that, either.” 

  “You’re comparing your mom’s marriages to our sexual relationship.” Lucas says it flatly, as if he can’t quite comprehend her statement. 

  “No, well, yeah.” Max scoots closer to Lucas, tapping his knee with her foot. “I just don’t want us to hate each other and still use each other to our advantage.” 

  “Is that not what we’re doing?” Lucas asks, lips tilting upwards in amusement. 

  Max rolls her eyes. “This is friendly fire. I mean, like, full-blown, hating each other, want to throttle each other sort of argument. Like a bad one. I want those to be resolved so we’re not having sex while trying to rip each other’s throats out.” 

  Lucas nods in understanding. “But we’ll still pretend to hate each other in front of the Party to continue our charade.” 

  “Exactly,” Max says. “So, do we have a deal?” She holds out her hand, and Lucas immediately shakes. 

  “Deal, MadMax.” 

  Max finds Lucas at the gym after school. It’s not hard to find him, since he spends more time here than he does anywhere else when he’s stressed. He’s shooting hoops aggressively, making most of them in. 

  The rest of his team isn’t in the gym. Max suspects it’s because they’re studying for finals. Thankfully, Max and Lucas don’t have any, thanks to AP exams. 

  He doesn’t notice her walking in until she’s sitting down on the lowest row of bleachers. Even then, he continues shooting a few more baskets before he puts the balls away and slowly walks over to sit next to her. 

  “Hey,” Max starts. 

  “Hey,” Lucas says. It’s definitely awkward, and it’s definitely Max’s fault. She blew up at him when he was the one that was angry, and that’s messing everything up for sure. “Uh-” 

  “I got into NYU.” 

  Lucas’s water bottle stops halfway to his lips. “You-huh? When?” 

  Max fidgets with the papers in her hands. “I got the letter two weeks ago.” 

  “So why are you telling me now?” 

  “Because I’m an idiot-” 

  “Kinda got that.” 

  “Shut up. I’m only telling you now because I’m a fucking idiot and I didn’t want to imply that I wanted our arrangement to go into college too.” 

  Lucas looks a little confused. He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead and stares ahead to try to connect the words. “So…you don’t want this arrangement to continue in college?” 

  Max sighs. “Yes. Well, no. I mean-” She sighs again, hoping she’s not wrinkling the papers in her hands too much. “I want this to continue. But just not like this.” 

  “You lost me,” Lucas replies. Animosity still sharp in his eyes from the locker room situation, everything about him screams hostile. Max wants to scream. 

  Thrusting the papers out at him isn’t exactly intentional, but hey, she brought them for a reason. So she places them in between them, holding them out for him to take. After a brief moment, he takes them. 

  “What?” 

  “I want you to read it.” 

  Lucas eyes her warily. “Not worried I’ll copy off of you?” 

  Max rolls her eyes. “Like you’d ever copy off someone as incompetent as me.” The smallest of smiles ghosts Lucas’s lips as he breaks their eye contact to look down at the papers. “But if you don’t want to read it, you don’t have to.” 

  “No, no. I’ll read it. You want me to, right?” 

  “...Yeah.” 

  Lucas presses his lips into a line. “I’ll let you know when I finish?” 

  Max shrugs. “You know where to find me.” She wants to lean in to press her lips into his cheek before leaving, like she’d been doing before The Incident, but she forces herself away from the gym and back home. 

   It’s a Friday night, and Max is reading when the phone goes off. She sighs and stomps over, ready to reject the telemarketer when she hears the loud sounds in the background. “What the hell?” she speaks. 

  “Maaaax.” The voice is all too familiar. 

  “What the hell, Sinclair?” Max barks into the phone, keeping in mind to not be too loud. “It’s eleven at night.” 

  There’s a rattle on the other line before Lucas speaks again. “Can youcomepickme upppp?” He slurs into the phone. 

   Note to self, Lucas is a slur-his-words drunk. “Why would I do that?” Max asks, looking down at her sleep shorts and oversized tee equivalent of pajamas. 

  “Be cause. You’re the only one that can.” 

  Max rolls her eyes. “Call Mike or Dustin.” 

  “I-on’t remember their numbers,” Lucas whispers, as if telling her a secret. “I norm’lyjust walkie ‘em.” 

  “But you remember mine.” Something warm blossoms in her chest. 

  Lucas lets out what sounds like a huff. “Of course I remember yours, MaddieMaxie.” 

  “Call me that again and I’m not coming over.” 

  “So you’re coming then?” Lucas perks up. “I’mat Jordan’s house.” 

  Max sighs, knowing exactly where that is. It’s just down the street from her old house. “Be there in ten. Stay put. Don’t drink any more.” 

  “Kay-kay,” Lucas whispers loudly into the phone, before hanging up. 

  After a solid second of wondering how she got herself in this situation, Max changes into sweatpants and a debate hoodie. It’s March, but it’s Indiana. On her way downstairs, she piles her hair up into a bun and grabs Steve’s car keys. 

  “Hey, dipshit, where are you going?” Steve calls from the couch. 

  “Call me dipshit again, see what happens,” Max threatens. “I’m going to pick up something from El’s. I need it.” 

  Steve puts a hand on his hip as he stands and makes his way closer to her. “Can you get it tomorrow?” 

  “For the love of Christ, Steve, I’m going to borrow tampons from El,” Max yells, knowing it’ll do the trick. 

  Blood drains a bit from Steve’s face, and he nods immediately. “Go, go, go, just don’t get any blood on the seats.” 

  Max smirks and grabs the keys from the tray, heading out the door. “No promises. Go to sleep, Steve. You have early work tomorrow, remember? Seven thirty.” 

  “Shit.” Steve immediately gives her the quickest of hugs before turning down the hall to head to his room. “Don’t stay out too long.” 

  “Bye.” Max shoves her feet into a pair of sneakers, not bothering to put on socks. She’s out the door in less than ten seconds, and at Jordan Pierce’s house in eight. 

  There’s a swarm of high school students on Jordan’s front lawn, as well as inside. Max spots Lucas off to the side on the porch, almost asleep. 

  “Jesus.” She heads over to get him. When she approaches him, her hand reaches out to touch his shoulder. “Sinclair. Wake up.” 

  His eyes fly open and meet hers, going back and forth from hazy to focused. “Maaxx!” He grins and reaches out. “You’re here.” 

  “To take you home, you asshole. Come on, let’s go.” She tugs at his outstretched hand to get him to stand up, but he refuses. “What is your problem?” 

  “You should stay and hang out,” Lucas whispers to her. 

  Max is entirely unamused. It’s eleven fifteen on a Friday night, she wants to finish her book, and she’s here picking up Lucas Sinclair from a fucking high school party. “What are you even doing here?” She asks. 

  Lucas shrugs. “We won a game. This is the afterparty.” 

  Max silently notes Lucas’s post-game attire: sweatpants, a tee, and a simple jacket. “I see. How much did you drink?” 

  “Um.” 

  “You’re a fucking idiot.” 

  “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” Lucas says it without hesitation, without remorse. Max hopes the ground will swallow her up whole. 

  She hauls him up with one hand, getting him on his feet only for him to slump against her shoulder. “I’m taking you home. You are wasted as fuck.” 

  Lucas awkwardly walks alongside her, wrapping an arm around her waist while she holds him up the same way. “You smell nice,” he comments. 

  Max pokes him in the side. “You need to shut up.” 

  A jock stops them before they get to Max’s car. “Yo, Sinclair, you taking this chick home?” 

  Lucas rolls his eyes. “She’s taking me home.” 

  “Oh, you got game, Red,” the jock whistles. 

  Max gives the jock an overly friendly smile. “Walk away before I use your kneecaps to smash your head in.” 

  The guy immediately scrambles away, and Max all but hauls Lucas straight into the back seat of the car. “I can’t go home,” Lucas says, as soon as Max is in the driver’s seat. 

  “No shit,” Max says, putting the key in the ignition. “I’m taking you to my house.” 

  “I love your house,” Lucas says softly, before Max turns the radio on to tune him out. 

 

  When Max pulls Lucas out of the car and into the house quietly, she has to literally make it an effort to have him shut up and go upstairs silently. 

  “But-” 

  “Shh!” Max hisses, clamping a hand over his mouth and all but forcing him upstairs to her room. “Stay here. I’m getting you water and Tylenol. Shut up and sleep.” 

  “You’re mad at me,” Lucas deduces. 

  Max puts up a middle finger and stomps downstairs for the medicine and water. When she’s back upstairs, she almost drops everything she’s holding. 

  Lucas is curled up in her bed as if it was his own, and for a fleeting second Max wishes it was theirs. The thought vanishes almost immediately when he opens his eyes and grins lopsidedly. “Ma-” 

  “Shh!” She hisses again, putting the Tylenol and water down. “I’m going to sleep. Move over.” 

  He obeys and scoots to the left side of the bed, dropping his head down on the pillow as Max turns off her lights and heads into the bathroom to change back into her pajamas. “You’re pretty,” Lucas says, his eyes closed as he wraps himself up in her blankets. 

  “Thanks,” Max replies dryly. “You’re not.” She gets into bed next to him, and huffs. “You owe me for this.” 

  “I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” Lucas whispers. “Also, I’ll return the favor soon, I bet.” 

  Max rolls her eyes. “In your dreams, SInclair. Go to sleep.” 

  “Night, Maxie.” 

  “I’ll beat you up.” 

  Lucas simply takes her arm as his personal stuffed animal in return. 

  Max doesn't panic. She rarely paces around her room waiting for anything, much less a boy, but here she is. 

  She's about to drill a hole into the floor, waiting for Lucas to enter. 

  The sinking revelation that he’s probably not coming starts to eat away at her. It would make sense, though. Max’s entire debate final revolves around the idea that valedictorian is not worth sacrificing a friendship (and more) with Lucas, and it’s definitely enough to scare him off. 

   The title, I realized a little too late, isn’t something I’d hold onto with my life. Not if there’s someone that’s more important, Max wrote in it. I personally am not aware of his stance on this, but either way I’d like to pursue a stronger relationship with a living, breathing person rather than a title that does nothing in life. 

  Somehow, with piles of workload and pressure, I realized and remembered that none of the goals I set for myself are worth the cost. I wish I saw that earlier. 

  Max does admit her final was less debate-voice and more Max’s English class voice. Luckily the 100 at the top of her paper shows Nickels doesn’t mind, and-

  A pebble hits the pane of her window, and Max perks up almost too fast. When she looks outside, the faintest silhouette of Lucas Sinclair is scaling up her wall slowly and into her window. 

  She hopes she doesn’t look too eager as she opens up the window, letting the breeze in her room. “Hi,” Max says, a little breathlessly. A stray piece of hair flies out from behind her ear, so she reaches out to tuck it back in. She hopes it doesn’t make her look nervous. 

  Lucas waves the papers before sliding the window closed. “Hey. I, uh, read it.” 

  “I sure hope you did, baby,” Max says, nervousness taking over too much for her to roll her eyes. “And, uh, what did you think?” 

  “Did you mean everything?” Lucas asks, sitting on her bed awkwardly. 

  Max nods, fidgeting with the hem of her oversized tee. “I would never lie to Nickels.” 

  “Except for the desk thing,” Lucas brings up. 

  “...Except the desk thing,” Max concedes. “But yeah, Lucas. I meant everything.” 

  “Including the part where you say…” Lucas pulls out the paper and reads a certain line. Max is certain he’s already got that memorized but doesn’t want to be weird, so pretends he doesn’t. “‘Everything I’ve worked on this year academically has been but a diversion from where my true intentions lie. Surprisingly, they lie with a person. I’ve grown to accept that.’” He looks at her, his gaze soft. “A person.” 

  Max feels a smirk tug at her lips. “Yeah, a person.” 

  Lucas returns the teasing smile. “Sounds like a real important person.” 

  “He is,” Max says, smiling shyly. “I hope he understands how important he is to me.” 

    “Why didn’t you tell him before?” 

  While expecting that question, Max realizes that the answer is something that isn’t able to be formed into one sentence. “Well, I think he knows my life is pretty fucked up. Dad left, mom married an asshole, asshole gave me a dick of a stepbrother. Life was hell for a solid year and a half. Stepbrother left, asshole stepdad left. Then, by some miracle, life got better.

  “Somehow, though, this person, he managed to stick with me throughout. Even when I was a dick to him. Even when I made it clear I didn’t want to be friends. And now-” Max hopes her voice isn’t breaking. “Now I think there’s something about him that’s too valuable to lose.” 

  “Care to share?” Lucas asks. He’s stepping closer to her as she does the same to him, and Max doesn’t care if this defies everything she’s ever learned with gravity. Because all she gets pulled to now is Lucas. “I won’t tell a soul. Zip my lips, throw away the key.” He mimics the gesture, and Max finally lets her teeth show in a wider grin. 

  Max lets herself break into a smile. “Romantic feelings have had a terrible track record with me. But I think it’s time to change that. And I think he can.” 

  “Really?” 

  She steps close enough so their chests are almost touching, looking up at him. “You know, baby, there was a time when he was the bane of my existence. Now, he’s the reason I keep going. If he’s the ocean, I want to drown.” 

  Lucas’s mouth falls open the slightest bit. “You know, I don’t exactly wish death upon you-” 

  “Just kiss me already.” 

  “You should’ve just asked me to,” Lucas replies, bringing a hand up to her cheek and pressing not just his lips but his body against hers. 

  Max feels a huge weight lift off her chest as she takes his arms in her hands and holds him closer, as if she’s never held him before. She’s flying, everything is good, and there’s nothing she would trade for this moment. 

  Lucas pulls away to ask her something before their kiss escalates. “Wait, what about valedictorian? Did you write a speech for that too?” 

  Max looks Lucas in the eyes. “Screw valedictorian.” 

  Lucas blinks. “Um, who are you and what have you done with Max Mayfield?” 

  “I’m serious,” Max says. “What’s the point? This stupid competition with you has only created this horrible mutual disdain for each other, and all for what? Some fucking certificate that says I beat you in an overrated competition? I’m not doing that.” 

  “It’s valedictorian, MadMax,” Lucas says softly. “It’s your title.” 

  Max shakes her head. “It’s not worth it. Valedictorian is not worth the time I wasted pretending I hated you.” 

  Lucas breaks into a grin. “You don’t hate me?” 

  “Of course not,” Max says, bringing a hand up to hold Lucas’s cheek in her hand. “I love you, stalker.” 

  While the confession definitely isn’t the first one, it’s the first time she’s said it sober. 

  Lucas obviously knows. And when he responds, Max feels like flying. 

  “I love you too, MadMax.” 

  This time, Max goes in for the kiss. This isn’t their first kiss. It’s not their second, or their sixty-seventh, but somehow this one is freeing and full of love and fireworks. 

  It’s how the books and the movies said it would be. 

  She smiles against his lips. “We have to make up for lost time,” she speaks. 

  “Oh, believe me, I’ll spend a lot of time doing that,” Lucas says, caressing her collarbone. Then he drops his hand lower to her thighs and lifts her up, keeping a hand on her skin as she tightens her legs around him. “Fuck, I missed this.” 

  Max smiles down at him, and lets her fingers slowly scratch up to his head as he lets out a small moan at the feeling. “Mm. Lucas-” she tries to speak as he begins to massage circles onto her thigh and hips with his thumb. “Oh.” He moves his lips to her neck, finding the right spot and licking it as his hand moves closer to the inside of her thigh. 

  “This okay?” He mumbles, his lips moving on her skin as his voice vibrates through her body. 

  Max is honestly surprised she can form a coherent word when she gasps out a “God, yes”, adjusting her position so she’s a little higher than when Lucas first lifted her up. “Please-” 

  “Damn, babe, you don’t have to beg,” Lucas teases, his tongue darting out to dip into her collarbone. When Max’s fingers twist in his hair a little too much, he moves down to another spot at her neck, sucking at it gently but hard enough to leave a very visible hickey. 

  Max’s head falls back almost immediately. Lucas chuckles, lifting one hand off her inner thigh to tip her chin closer to him. He’s holding her up with one fucking hand and Max is about to evaporate staring at his biceps. She lets out the tiniest of whines as Lucas gives her a dirty smile. 

  He chuckles again. “I take it back. Beg.” 

  Max releases his hair and flicks him on the nose. “Fuck you.” 

  “I would love for that to happen, sweetheart, but I’m kind of asking you to beg me for it,” Lucas says, smirking. He reaches down and slowly pushes down the neckline of her shirt with his nose. “Hm?” 

  The choked sound Max lets out is all the answer he needs. “Fuck. You.” 

  “I need the opposite of that,” Lucas responds, running a hand up and down her thigh. His thumb slides under the hem of her shorts, slipping closer and closer and-

  Max whimpers, letting her head drop onto Lucas’s shoulder. “Please.” 

  “Please what?” Lucas asks innocently, his breath in her ear. 

  “Please…” Max whispers. “I need you. I want the smell of you on my skin for days,” she begs. 

  He smirks. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” Lucas turns and drops them both on her bed, him on top of Max as they slowly but sweetly move to fit together. 

  Fighting the urge to sigh with relief, Max’s hands roam around Lucas’s shoulders and down to the hem of his shirt. One hand finds its way under the fabric, and Max presses her palm against the defined lines on his stomach from four years of basketball. She traces the grooves with her finger and pokes him, causing him to fumble a bit while going in for a kiss and fall on her chin awkwardly. Max doesn’t allow recovery time for Lucas before curling her fingers around the hem of and tugging his debate sweatshirt up and over his head. 

  The two seconds in which Lucas parts from Max to let the shirt pass through might be the longest two seconds of Max’s life. As soon as Lucas lowers himself back down on to Max, his body heat spreads through her, making every fiber of her being come alive. 

  He lets his hands fall to her exposed thighs, running his hand over her skin until goosebumps flesh out and Max is whimpering. His lips run over her lips before falling down to her collarbone, teeth pulling lightly at the skin. 

  “Okay,” Max gasps out, before she regains her voice again. “Back up here, buddy.” She reaches forward for his face, and kisses him again. Lucas grins against her lips, putting a knee in between her slightly parted thighs and teases the hem of her shorts. 

  Max releases a leg from under Lucas to wrap around his waist and create a bit more friction. Lucas groans against her lips, letting out the smallest of laughs before sliding the seam of her lips open with his tongue and letting it softly massage hers. The moan that escapes Max hardens Lucas more on top of her, and Max smirks. 

  She parts from him for the lightest second just to give him a cheeky grin. “Now who’s weak in the knees?” 

  The growl Lucas lets out in response will definitely be a part of all of Max’s future wet dreams. “Oh, you will be soon, babe.” He holds her around the waist, and then moves to sway the two of them together. 

  Lucas adjusts his position and lets his lips hover over Max’s ear. “Steve home?” 

  Max shakes her head. “He’s at Lilian’s.” 

  “Good,” Lucas husks in her ear. He kisses her again, one hand massaging , and suddenly flips her so she’s on top. “My turn.” 

  His hands slowly glide down her arms and settle at her hips, moving them slowly before he effortlessly lifts up her shirt and discards both that and the bra underneath, tossing it somewhere to the right of the room. “Mm. You’re good at this,” Max mumbles into Lucas’s lips as he continues running his hand up and down the back of her thighs. Her legs instinctively part so she’s straddling him, and she lets her hips roll against him. She lets herself reach up to nibble at his earlobe. 

  Lucas bites out a soft groan, holding onto the waistband of her sleep shorts. “Learned from the best, babe,” he replies. One of his hands reaches up and trails along her ribcage, tickling her lightly before settling on a spot where his thumb rubs along the side of her breast. “Okay, I think it’s time this comes off too,” he murmurs, letting a finger slip into the waistband of her shorts and underwear. 

  “Fuck, please,” Max rasps, letting Lucas drag them down past her hips before she kicks them away. Feeling a sudden surge of confidence, Max lets a hand fall behind Lucas’s shoulder and pull him up so they’re sitting up while she straddles him. 

  When she finally gets the hair out of her eyes, Max sees just how fully blown his pupils are. Lucas’s hands splay across her waist and back, drawing her closer and closer to him. “You are so beautiful,” Lucas breathes into her neck, sucking at a pulse point and making his way down her skin. 

  She can literally feel her thighs quaking as he nips at a particularly sensitive spot. Lucas runs his hands around and over them, lowering his lips to the valley in between her breasts. “Fuck,” Max grits out, hoping her nails aren’t digging too much into his skin. 

  “You like that, babe?” Lucas whispers, eyes meeting hers. He licks his lips and winks at her, and Max is so fucking wet right now. She’s pretty sure he knows, too. 

  Max hopes she’s not smiling too wide. “You know, it’s not entirely fair if I’m the only one who’s entirely naked here,” she purrs into his ear. 

  The absolutely evil smile Lucas gives her in return is one she’ll remember for a very long time. 

  He brings them both back down on the bed, and turns them so he’s on top again. His fingers find hers as Lucas hooks hers in his sweatpants and boxers, tugging them down. 

  They end up somewhere in the room. Max doesn’t care where right now. 

  She reaches blindly for her nightstand, pulling open a drawer and taking out a condom to pass to Lucas. As soon as it’s on, well, that’s where the fun part begins. 

  That night, it’s not hatefucking. It’s not simply sneaking around and having sex, it’s making love. 

  As soon as the glass in her mind shatters for the second time, Max lets her entire body collapse down onto the sheets, hoping her hair isn’t sticking too badly to her forehead. 

  “Fuck, Lucas.” He kisses the line between her (still shaking) thigh and hips, then her stomach, taking his sweet time climbing back up next to her. Max places her head on his chest, her heart still beating rapidly. 

  “We’re two for two,” Lucas exhales into her hair. Max can smell herself in his breath. “You did good, sweetheart.” 

  Max looks up at him, smiling. “I could go for a third?” 

  Lucas is inside her in less than a minute, and the moan Max lets out has been a long time coming.

  “Hey, Sinclair!” Max calls across the gym. The entire team, changed out of their uniforms, turns to her, and Lucas looks up as well, a smile lighting up his face. It warms every part of Max’s body. 

  “MadMax,” Lucas greets, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “You came to pick me up from practice?” 

  Max rolls her eyes. “I’m here because you’re my ride, stupid.” 

  Lucas laughs. “I’m sure I am,” he says, winking when she looks at him. 

Oh fucking Jesus Christ. “I don’t want to respond to that,” Max mumbles, hoping her cheeks aren’t flaming. 

  “You’re cute when you blush,” Lucas croons. 

  “Keep talking like that and I’ll steal your keys and drive off myself,” Max responds, elbowing him. 

  Lucas laughs again, and Max wants to make him do that again. “Don’t complain, Red. I’m taking you to the arcade, after all.” 

  Max rolls her eyes. “Remind me why we’re friends.” 

  “You couldn’t resist my charm, babe,” Lucas replies. 

  “Keep talking like that, baby, I dare you.” 

  Lucas only laughs again in response. Max decides to let her confidence win over. Max winks at Lucas and watches as his neck creeps up with color. She all but pulls him into the janitor’s closet and slowly backs him up against a wall. “What are you doing?” 

  “Dealing with you myself. Is that cool with you?” Max asks, letting a sinful grin take over. 

  Lucas only nods in response, too shocked to say anything else. 

  Max kisses down his jawline. “Good,” she whispers, slowly sinking down to her knees. “Try to keep it down, baby?” 

  “Uh-huh,” Lucas chokes out, as Max reaches for the belt around his khaki shorts and undoes it, tossing it to the ground. “This is bold,” he says. 

  “Mhm,” Max says, licking her lips before looking up at him, her hands still firmly on his waistband . "Don't pull too hard on my hair," she drawls, winking. 

  “I love you,” Max whispers as they wrap themselves in her bedsheets. She presses her cheek into the crook of his collarbone, and he holds her by her hip, drawing stars around all her imaginary scars. 

  Lucas strokes her hair as he speaks against her forehead. “You know, I wanted to say it first.” 

  “You kind of did,” Max points out, hoping her eyelids won’t close before she gets to say it again tonight. “In the locker room.” 

  “No, you did.” Lucas brushes a piece of hair out of Max’s eyes, and angles her chin so she’s facing him. “On prom night. That’s why I was so angry.” 

  Max hopes her eyes aren’t too wide. “Oh.” 

  “But I do want to stake the claim on being the one who was in love longer.” 

  “Fine,” Max says, scrunching her nose a little in a smile. “You get that one.” 

  Lucas gives her the quickest of pecks on the nose. “You know you have about four hundred and eighty-six freckles?” 

  Max looks at him, confused. “I what?” 

  “I counted once. You were asleep.” Lucas brushes a finger across the band of freckles on her nose. “It’s probably wrong though, since you got a few more since then.” 

  “My dad used to tell me they were stars. Scattered on my skin. Before Mom married Neil, Dad told me they would help me find my way home,” Max confesses softly. “I thought he meant California, which is pretty stupid. But I think he meant I’d find someone who loves them as much as I do.” 

  Lucas stares at her for a moment. “You think I’m home?” 

  Max smiles at him. “Yeah?” 

  He kisses her again, and again, until he kisses every single freckle on her face. 

   “You let me win that one,” Max says softly, as she and Lucas leave class as the last ones. 

  Lucas looks over at her. “If you didn’t win, you’d be chewing me out right now. And I personally would rather us actually get along, like we have been for the past few weeks,” he points out. 

  “Yeah, but,” Max sighs, stopping in her tracks to look at him. The flow of traffic is disrupted, and grumbles from students are heard as they push past Max and Lucas to leave the building. “Why would I chew you out for winning? Your argument was way stronger than mine, anyway.” 

  Her eyes meet his tentatively, and Max wants to just melt into the ground when she sees how softly he’s looking at her. “Max. I want you to be happy. Against all odds and our past, I do. If me losing makes you happy, then-” 

  “First of all, that’s stupid. Why would I want you to lose all the time? I’m happy when we argue and it becomes a fun, equal debate, not when you rig it so I win. That takes the fun out of it,” Max says. “Besides,” she adjusts her backpack on one shoulder. “We’re not trying to give anyone any hints right now about what this is. If people see that this is a friendship, they’ll think something happened in between and probably fill in the blanks.” 

  “Would that be that bad?” Lucas asks, sounding a little bit hurt. 

  “No!” Max says, almost too fast. “Of course not. I just don’t want all this shit to go down this close to the end of the year. And…I kind of like this being our dirty little secret,” she admits shyly, stepping closer to him. “It’s fun having no one realize how this happened.” 

  Lucas chuckles. “Whatever you say, MadMax.” The two of them head down the now empty hallway  to the lockers. “I have practice and conditioning in about ten minutes, by the way.” 

  “I know,” Max says. “I’ll wait in the library and come pick you up at four thirty.” 

  “I know,” Lucas replies, smiling at her. “See you in an hour, babe,” he says softly, pressing the quickest of kisses to her forehead before heading to the gym with his sports bag. 

  Lord, Max is down so bad for this boy.

   The shrill beeping of Max’s alarm forces her bleary eyes awake. The light coming in from her windows is much too bright for her darkness-adjusted eyes to look at, 

  She reaches over, eyes still squeezed shut, and slaps the snooze alarm just as another hand falls on top of hers. One eye opens and she’s staring into the eyes of Lucas Sinclair. 

  Her insides melt again. 

  “Hi,” she croaks, cursing her morning voice for sounding so goddamn revolting. 

  He smiles lazily back at her. “Hey, Red.” Lucas draws her closer to him and his warmth, and Max sighs against his skin. 

  She wishes she could stay in this moment forever, “Can we stay here all day?” She asks, knowing what the answer will be. 

  Lucas laughs. “I would love to do that, but we have to go to school. You could stay here, but I’m not going to let my perfect attendance take a dip,” he says, stretching his back out from under her. 

  Max elbows him gently. “Fine. You need to get your stuff from your place though, right?” 

  “Nah. They’re in my car.” 

  “Lucas, you got here at eleven last night. Didn’t you drop your things at home before you got here?” Max asks, confused. 

  Lucas grins a little shyly. “I ended up sitting in the gym rereading the letter until, like, eight. Then I ended up at the diner and then, well, here.” His fingers trail up her ribs and back down. “Don’t worry, though. I did the last bits of this year’s homework during study hall.” 

  “I sure hope you did,” Max says, deciding to let her head settle on Lucas’s chest, where it normally lies. “But it is early right now.” 

  “Why does your alarm even go off at six? Do you go for a run in the morning or what?” Lucas teases. 

  “Yeah, I do,” Max replies dryly. Lucas nudges her in the side, and Max rolls her eyes. “I normally wake up early to do homework, okay? But now there’s not much left, and I just use this extra hour to sleep in. I’m just lazy to change the alarm time.” 

  Lucas laughs, and Max wants to keep it in a jar and never let it go. “Well, we have an hour to kill. I could make breakfast?” 

  Lord, how is this boy hers? “You’re…offering to cook me food.” 

  “Yeah, why? I’ve done it before, remember?” Lucas asks, brows pressed together in confusion. “Is that not okay, I can just-” 

  “No! I’ve just never…no one’s ever offered to. Besides Steve, obviously. Everyone else just either does it without offering or just has me do it,” Max says, hoping she’s not mumbling. 

  “Aw, you’re as red as your hair,” Lucas trills, kissing said hair while he speaks. 

  Max pouts. “Shut up.” She curls into Lucas further. “You can make me breakfast. But we’re staying in bed for another half hour.” 

  Lucas wraps his arms around her tighter, idly drawing patterns on her stomach. “Deal.” 

   “You look like absolute shit,” Lucas comments as they walk out of debate. “You need some water or something, Mayfield?” 

  Max ignores the contracting in her stomach and glares at him, slamming into her locker and forcing it open. “I’m fine. Stop hovering.” 

  “I am not hovering,” Lucas says, faking offense. “You’ve just been pale all day.” 

  Freezing while putting books in her bag, Max looks up at Lucas. “...Is that a race thing that I should slap you for, or-” 

  “No! I just mean that you’re not looking so good, Red. Are you sick or something?” 

  Max glares at him again, slamming her locker shut. “I’m fine. I’m just-” A particularly terrible cramp hits her, and she basically spasms while walking. “Ugh. I’m fine. ” 

  Lucas’s lips twitch the slightest bit. “I’m taking you to your house. Come on,” he says, all but dragging her down the hallway and out the door. 

  “What are you-Lucas! Stop! I can bike back, I always do-” Max protests. 

  “Listen, you can either bike in pain all the way back down to your house, or have me physically carry you into my car so you can be comfortable. It’s your choice.” Lucas crosses his arms, an eyebrow quirked in challenge. 

  Max groans. “Fine. But if anyone stops us and asks what’s happening, I’m telling them you’re kidnapping me.” 

  “That’s an awfully nice way of saying thank you,” Lucas says, rolling his eyes. “Get in the car.” 

 

  They make it a silent five minutes before Max speaks up. “Don’t you have basketball practice?” 

  “Eh, I can miss one. I’ll tell them I have an appointment. Here.” Lucas reaches into his glove compartment and hands her a bottle of water. “Drink that.” 

  “It’s spiked, isn’t it.” 

  Lucas rolls his eyes. “What kind of monster do you think I am? That’s regular water, Max. Drink it.” 

  Max tentatively unscrews the cap of the bottle and takes a sip, then another. “Why are you being nice to me?” 

  “I have a sister and a mother, Max. I know the signs,” Lucas replies simply. 

  Max drinks more water silently in response. 

  

  “Do homework on your bed, MadMax,” Lucas says, dropping her backpack next to the queen in her room. “And on your stomach.” 

  “I know,” Max snaps. She instantly recoils. “Sorry.” 

  “Don’t be,” Lucas replies, dropping his backpack next to her desk. “I’m taking your desk.” 

  Max stops halfway through taking her shoes and socks off. “What are you doing?” 

  “I just told you. Taking your desk.” Lucas lays out his things on her desk, and turns to her. “Listen, we take the same classes. We can check answers this way. Besides, you need the company, and someone to boss around.” 

  It’s annoying how reasonable and accurate Lucas’s explanation is. “...Fine. I’m changing into something more comfortable.” Max heads to her closet to pick out a random hoodie and shorts, changing into them when Lucas leaves the room. 

  She collapses on her bed, beginning on homework. It doesn’t sink in that Lucas isn’t in the room with her doing homework like he said he would until the door opens and he walks in with a plate in his hand and a mug in the other. “Here,” he says, placing the items on her nightstand. 

  It’s a piece of toast, buttered and jammed just the way she likes it. And warm tea. “What-” 

  “I know I don’t have much right to do this, seeing as we’re not friends. But if a member of the Party requires assistance, it is my duty to provide that assistance,” Lucas replies, shrugging. 

  Max’s eyes well up and she feels a tear fall down her cheek. 

  “Oh God,” Lucas says. “Uh, I don’t know how to deal with girls crying.” 

  “No, I just-” Max coughs awkwardly. “You’re being so nice to me for no reason and I’m just being a bitch.” 

  “Apologize later another way,” Lucas says, winking. “For now, eat that, drink the tea, and do your goddamn homework. We can cuddle or some shit later, babe.” 

  He presses his lips to the top of her hair before walking to her desk, turning on the desk lamp and beginning on what looks like his lit assignment. 

  Max’s heart pounds a little faster, and her lips part involuntarily while she watches him work. There’s something about him, she thinks. She can’t quite put a finger on it yet, but this boy is something else. They’ve been having sex for five months, and the past five months might just be the most exhilarating five months of her life. She’s not sure if it’s the sex, the sneaking around, or just Lucas.  

  “Thanks,” she says softly to his back. 

  She’s not sure he hears her, but his pen freezes in midair for a second, acknowledging her. Max smiles softly in response. 

   Lucas shifts under her, and Max’s eyes fly open. “Hm?” she mumbles. “Is it six thirty already?” 

  “No, my leg fell asleep,” Lucas replies. Max rolls off of him with as little of a whine as she can, and lets him sit up and get the blood flowing in his leg as he taps it on her bedroom floor. 

  His back faces her, and Max winces as she sees the scratch marks that her nails raked down his back last night. “Um. Lucas?” She asks, tentatively. 

  Still tapping his foot softly, Lucas responds. “Yeah, MadMax?” 

  “You probably don’t…want to go shirtless during practice today,” Max decides on saying. 

  Lucas chuckles, his entire body moving with the sound. “Why, scared the cheerleaders will be ogling? El is literally the captain, babe.” 

  “No, I mean,” Max sighs, reaching a finger out to trace the marks. “I may have dug in a little too deep.” 

  “So werewolf scratches?” Lucas asks, teasing. 

  Max blushes. “Maybe. But they’re pretty distinct. Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 

  “No, don’t be. Besides, we’re even this way,” Lucas responds. 

  Max props her head up on an elbow. “For the hickey? That doesn’t count, baby.” 

  “No, for the marks probably on your thighs and hips,” Lucas responds, turning around and letting himself roll back into the sheets. “I had to hold you down somehow, Max.” 

  The heat burns harder in Max’s cheeks. “Um.” 

  “Left you speechless this early in the morning?” Lucas teases, planting his head in the crook of Max’s neck and wrapping an arm around her torso snugly. “That’s a first for sure.” 

  Max squeezes her eyes shut in an attempt to keep herself from smiling too wide. “You are insufferable.” 

   “Love you too, babe,” Lucas replies, burying his nose in her neck. 

   “Hey!” Lucas calls, walking down the hallway in his stupid varsity jacket that’s starting to smell less like him and more like Max. She watches as he adjusts the lapels of it while making eye contact, and feels the corners of her lips twist agonizingly. 

  She walks up to him, a little too close, and ends up somehow finding herself wrapping her hands around his neck to get more of his scent. 

  “That’s new,” Mike remarks, hand in hand with El as they catch up with Max and Lucas. 

  “Be nice, Mike. They’re friends now,” El says, giving Max a small wink. 

  Listen, being friends doesn’t constitute hugging in the hallways, publicly. But Max is kind of obsessed with this boy. She’s going to desperate measures at this point. She dreams about him, stares too long at him, and goes to every one of his games, even if it is a bit overdramatic. 

  But hey, she’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. 

  So she rolls her eyes, turning around to give Mike the finger before clapping her hands together once. “Class, guys, let’s go.” 

  Lucas nudges her shoulder lightly as Mike and El head down the hall, and gives her the slightest of smirks. “Oh, it’s one of those days, huh?” he asks. 

  Max scrunches her nose sarcastically at him. “Not doing this with you right now.” She turns and follows El to their first period. 

  Maybe she looks back at Lucas on the way. 

   “Is that a change of clothes?” Max asks Lucas, who’s returning from his car with a duffel bag. 

  “Yep,” Lucas replies simply, heading into the bathroom to change. 

  “You…brought a change of clothes.” 

  Lucas leaves the door open a crack to let sound flow through. “Yeah, I did, babe. Why?” 

  Max is dumbfounded. “Why would you bring a change of-” The realization hits her after a solid minute. “You…knew we were going to-” 

  “Babe,” Lucas starts, exiting the bathroom in a tee and windbreaker, and a pair of jeans. “You wrote me what’s essentially a love letter after I literally told you I was in love with you. You were expecting me to come over, and I did. I don’t think there’s a universe out there where this situation would go down without us ending up having sex.” 

  “Why are you actually smart,” Max mutters, pulling on a pair of loose jeans as well as The Blue Tank Top. 

  Lucas shrugs. “All part of the valedictorian ruse, Red.” He presses a chaste kiss to Max’s cheek before heading out her room. 

  “Your varsity jacket’s in the car as always, right?” Max calls after him, finger combing through her curls. 

  “Yeah, why?” he asks. Lucas ends up in the kitchen, easily finding his way through the fridges to make a simple breakfast. 

  “I’m stealing it for today,” Max replies simply, getting two glasses and filling them with juice before hopping onto the counter. 

  Lucas looks over at her, amused. “Not scared of other people’s thoughts?” 

  “You know, baby,” Max says, taking a sip of her juice. “I have a feeling people have been catching on. Besides, the Party is the most observant. Once they figure it out, everyone else will.” 

  “...They’re really not, but sure, babe. Do whatever you want.” Lucas gives her a smile, before continuing his cooking. 

   Max makes it a mission to avoid Lucas at all costs, all day long. 

  This is all his fault, really. 

  It is not the first time this has happened, but it’s the first time she’s felt like this. 

  Full of want . 

  And, okay, they’re sleeping together. It was a solid guarantee that this would happen, and Max has come to terms with it, but lord.  

  Max won’t lie if she says this hasn’t happened even before they started having sex, but this fucking time. Jesus.  

  Her brain really just had to conjure up the hottest fucking wet dream for her, huh? 

  “Hey,” Lucas says from behind her, making her jump. His lips, eerily close to her ear, blow hot air that makes chills go down Max’s spine. 

  “You almost gave me a fucking heart attack, Jesus,” Max says, resisting the urge to place a hand over her heart to slow its beating. 

  Lucas laughs, playfully nudging her. “Come on, MadMax. You were supposed to meet me by Will’s locker so we could walk to debate together.” 

  Max looks around, and realizes she’s a solid two classrooms away from Will’s locker. “Shit. Sorry, I’ve been…distracted.” 

  “Oh, I’ve noticed. It’s me, isn’t it?” Lucas asks, grinning cheekily. 

  “Oh, go fuck yourself,” Max replies darkly. 

  “I’d rather let you do the honors,” Lucas replies, winking. Max wants to pull him into the janitor’s closet so bad right now, oh God. 

  Lucas picks up on it, of course. “You’re getting that I have the hots for Lucas look in your eyes again,” he mutters in her ear.

  She doesn’t say anything in response. 

  “Damn, already?” Lucas teases. “Don’t worry, babe. Practice was pushed later to four thirty, so we got an hour in between.” He pushes the door and holds it open for her as they walk in. “I’ll see you after, babe.” 

  Max’s cheeks flame, and she all but scurries to her desk so she can drop her head on it and hide her face. If friends with benefits is the general way they’d define themselves, they need to find a better word than benefits. 

  “Nice jacket, Max,” Mike comments as he and El meet her and Lucas at her locker. “You really decided to piss Lucas off by wearing his favorite one, huh?” 

  Max rolls her eyes. “He’s not complaining, so you really shouldn’t be.” 

  El has a shit eating grin on her face. “I bet he isn’t,” she remarks, winking at Max. 

  Lucas closes his locker. “Guys, we’re friends. She just got her jacket stained on the way here, so I gave her mine. Chill.” 

  “Yeah,” Max says, adjusting the lapels of the jacket, confused as to why Lucas is classifying them as friends. “We should uh, head to class, though.” 

  “Oh, yeah. I told Mr. Carlsen I’d meet him before class to talk about something,” Mike says. “Should we head over early?” 

  El nods. “Yep!” She chirps, taking his hand and taking him down the hall. 

  Max turns to Lucas, and takes his wrist, all but dragging him into the empty classroom down another row of lockers. He sputters for a second before letting her slam the door behind them, making sure the lights stay off. The only light in the room comes from the eight am sunlight streaking through the window, and Max takes a second to make sure the door stays shut and locked before hopping onto the abandoned couch in the corner of the room, crossing her legs. 

  “Why’d you drag me into the old art classroom? Also, I’m pretty sure that couch is crusty,” Lucas says, walking over. 

  “Better question, Lucas. Why’d you refer to us as friends in front of El and Mike?” Max demands. 

  Lucas looks at her, confused. “Um?” 

  “Do you want to keep this a secret? Because you can just clarify that before you drop that on me.” Max fidgets with the hairtie on her wrist. “I don’t mind if you do, but I just-” 

  “Why would I ever want to keep this a secret, MadMax? This is a thing, and we confirmed that. I just…I thought you’d want to be the one who told them,” Lucas says. 

  Max looks up at him. “Why’d you say friends, though?” 

  “Well, I’m not exactly sure what to call us. Boyfriend and girlfriend? We haven’t really figured that out yet, have we?” Lucas scratches the back of his neck. 

  Max’s heart flips at the terms. “I’d like that.” 

  “Thank God. We skipped a few steps in this relationship, didn’t we?” Lucas laughs, kissing her hair. “But this is a thing. We’ve gone too long pretending it isn’t.” 

  “Is this going to…continue being a thing? After graduation, I mean. That’s in a week, and after that we have summer, and then college, and-” Max looks up, hoping her insecurities aren’t scaring him away. “We’re going to be four hours away, Lucas.” 

  “We can work with it, babe,” Lucas replies, dropping down so he’s kneeling in front of her. His hands fall onto her knees, and he reassuringly rubs circles through her jeans.  “But you know that you’re kind of stuck with me for a while, right?” 

  Max rolls her eyes, reaching her fingers out to trace Lucas’s cheekbone. “I know, but…how will we even manage that? Four hours is a long drive, and we have school, and you have basketball, and-” 

  Reaching up, Lucas’s hand circles the muscle on Max’s shoulder. His eyes soften, and he goes in for a soft kiss. “You know I’m not leaving anytime soon, right? Not while you’re still in New York with me. We’ll meet up every weekend, and I’ll tell you I love you so much you’ll get sick of me. And-” 

  Max leans forward to press her lips to Lucas’s, holding him there before she pulls back and smiles. “I know. You’ve told me. I believe you, baby, I just…” She runs her thumb over his cheek again. “I don’t want to ruin this.” 

  “Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but I think we’ve already ruined this in every possible way. There’s only up from here,” Lucas says. 

  Max looks around the classroom and the students walking down the halls through the tiny window in the door. “I know I’ve been saying I want to leave this small town since forever, but I didn’t think I’d miss Hawkins this much.” 

  “We’re probably not coming back after college though, right?” Max’s heart flips at the use of the word we . 

  “Oh, hell no. There’s no ocean,” Max says, laughing. “But if you want to, we could. I’d follow you anywhere, I hope you know that. I’ve spent too much of my life not doing that.” 

  Lucas smiles at her with that dumb dopey smile again. “I love you.” 

  “I love you too, stalker,” Max whispers. She kisses him yet again, holding him to never let go. “Okay, we should head back out, though.” 

  “Yeah. And, um, do you want to tell the Party?” Lucas asks, helping Max up. 

   Max ponders for the slightest of milliseconds, before shaking her head. “Nah. They’ll figure it out eventually. Thoughts on being less subtle?” 

  “Anything for the look on Mike’s face when he finds out,” Lucas says, taking her hand in his. 

El nudges her shoulder, and Max blinks, snapping out of her trance. “Hm?” Max asks, a little too sharply. 

  “You spaced out for a second. Listen, I know you hate Lucas, but you don’t have to glare a hole into him every time you see him,” El says. 

  Max can’t help her eyes from wandering over to Lucas, who’s greeting the guys by the pool chairs. He’s shirtless and the abs chiseled from years of basketball practice are on full display. Erica’s off with her friends already, leaving him alone with the rest of the Party as they make their way over. 

  “Hey, El. Mayfield,” Lucas greets, his fingers brushing Max’s arm slightly as he walks past her. She and El have their feet in the pool, and even though it’s a hundred degrees out, Max feels chills go down her spine. 

  “You’re acting weird,” El announces, tightening her ponytail. “Did you and Lucas get into another fight last week? When you went to get the assignments from Nickels’ classroom? You never told me how it went.” 

  Max chooses her words carefully. “Yeah. But it’s…resolved. I promise. It’s just weird that we actually resolved an argument, I guess.” By having some hate sex on a desk, she doesn’t say out loud. 

   “Well, I’m glad you guys got that settled. But can you make it less weird? Go talk to him or something.” El lightly shoves Max to her feet towards Lucas, who’s putting on sunscreen by the pool chairs. The rest of the guys are heading to jump in the pool, save for Will, who’s drawing in the shade. 

  “Hey,” Max says, walking up to Lucas. “Woah, I’m not gonna punch you, don’t hold the sunscreen at me like that,” she says, glaring at the sunscreen tube he’s pointing at her. 

  Lucas drops the sunscreen a little bit. “You’re still mad about last week ? Or weird about it?” 

  “Um. Both. Neither. I think,” Max says, undecided. “Yeah.” 

  “You getting heat stroke this early, Red?” Lucas teases, rubbing sunscreen on his very toned arms. 

  Max rolls her eyes. “No, I’m just…ugh. Yeah, sure, blame the sun. I’m going back to El.” She turns around, cursing her annoyingly hormonal brain for causing her to stutter.  

  “Wait,” Lucas calls, jogging up to her. There’s a safe distance between where Will is and where the pool is so that neither of their friends can hear them. “You’re not…weird about it, right?” 

  “What? No. We agreed it was nothing,” Max says. “And it was. We’re not going to make this something when it’s not anything. Okay?” 

  “Yeah, yeah,” Lucas says. “But…it did relieve some tension. So in a weird way, thanks?”

  Max can’t help but agree with him. “It did, didn’t it?” She can tell he’s thinking the same thing when her eyes meet his again. “So…should this happen again?” 

  “Not right now, but um, why not?” Lucas asks. “We’re both horny, not denying that. And this is a decent outlet,” he says, shrugging casually as if he’s not having a literal conversation about having casual sex with his academic rival. 

  Max nods. “Yeah. So, uh, my window. Is open. At night.” 

  “Got it,” Lucas replies. “Um. Yeah.” 

  “It shouldn’t be awkward,” Max states. 

   “It should not,” Lucas agrees. “So,” he holds a hand out, “Deal?” 

  Max shakes it. “Yeah. Deal.” 

  The Party doesn’t find out. 

  It’s actually pretty hysterical, Max thinks. Everyone else figured it out already, but it’s been almost an entire week and their friends still have not seen through their charade. 

  Walking into class with Max’s hand in Lucas’s had Nickels raising her mug in acknowledgement, as well as an “I fucking knew it!” (along with gasps from the students at the use of the creative language). Basketball practice ended with the guys clapping Lucas on the shoulder as Max walked in with his jacket and telling him he “got a good one”. 

  And somehow, Max leaning her head against Lucas’s shoulder during lunch is just simply “Max and Lucas getting along” in the Party’s eyes. 

  In the end it takes a solid five days, until the weekend, for the Party to finally catch on.

  Everyone’s at the Byers-Hopper residence, hanging out and finalizing their summer road trip plans. 

  Graduation is the next week, and the last day of school was pretty uneventful. Other than a few cries with particularly memorable friends and teachers, the Party’s made it out in one piece. 

  So of course they want to celebrate by driving out to Chicago and Phoenix, then California, and then back before college starts. 

  “So, Chicago first. Eddie and Chrissy can’t make it to graduation in time, so we’ll have to visit them,” Dustin says, circling Chicago on the map. “Then Phoenix because it’s pretty, and because El wants to go and we can’t ever say no to Mike’s girlfriend.” He circles the city as El blows Dustin an overexaggerated kiss. “Then California, where Max will show us around. Right?” 

  “Yep,” Max says, drawing a star around California. “We’re going to Disneyland for sure.” 

  “Oh, hell yes,” Lucas says, pumping a fist up. “You’re the best, Max.” 

  Max smiles, her heart warming at the statement. “Obviously. I’ll take you guys to the best spots in LA.” 

  El jumps up from her spot on the corner of the table, and taps Mike’s arm excitedly. “We have to go see the Walk of Fame! I want to find Audrey Hepburn’s,” she announces. 

  Max nods. “Oh, of course. I love the Walk of Fame. Maybe you guys can find some nerdy actor’s star to fan over,” Max teases. 

  “Ouch,” Lucas says, faking offense. “I’m hurt, MadMax.” 

  Rolling her eyes, Max sneaks a hand over to poke Lucas in the side. “I’ll make it up to you later, baby. But I do want to clarify that-” 

  “Wait.” Dustin’s voice is sharp, and a hand is up in the air as if he were narrating a particularly intense scene in D&D. “What did you just say, Max?” 

  Max blinks. “I didn’t even finish. I was going to clarify that the Walk of Fame is very long and might take a solid half day to explore?” 

  Dustin shakes his head, the extended finger pointing at her also shaking. “No, before that. The part where you said, um,-” 

  “‘I’ll make it up to you’? Was that it?” El asks, feigning innocence as the widest grin makes it onto her face. “Would you like to share something with the rest of the class, Maxie?” 

  “Not really,” Max shrugs. Lucas’s hand on her hip squeezes softly in approval before he pulls her closer. “Nah, we’re just friends,” she says, keeping a straight face. “Right, Lucas?” 

  “Yeah,” Lucas agrees. “Totally platonic. Moving on,” he says, his hand sliding up Max’s hip onto her waist, thumb under her top as he rubs her skin. “We should-” 

  “Oh, they’re dating,” Mike announces, sounding horrified with that fact. “They’re either dating or hooking up. Both is bad. Both are horrible. Either would be the end of-” 

  El elbows Mike. “Shut up, Mike. Let them be happy and in love.” 

  Max looks at Lucas, giving him the widest grin. “Yeah, Mike,” she says, not looking at the boy in question at all. “Let us be happy and in love.” 

  “Aw, you’re in love,” Lucas teases, leaning in to give Max the smallest peck on her lips. 

  “Oh, gross!” Mike yells, as Dustin screams obscenities. 

  El and Will give Lucas and Max the happiest smiles in response. 

  “I love you too,” Lucas whispers in Max’s ears as Mike and Dustin continue getting their shock out of their system. “So much.” 

Chapter Text

This boy is not supposed to be significant in her life. He’s supposed to be the best friend of the boy her best friend is dating, nothing more. He’s her enemy, the one who always raises her academic standards, the one who drives her insane and makes her want to break things. 

  But one day he’s not in class, and Max can feel something gnawing at him. No, it’s not just because of the physical connection they have (that’s one way to say it, at least). It’s just feeling like there’s a hole. 

  There’s no one to debate with Max. The sophomore boy she ends up mock debating with is scared to his seat in less than two minutes, and no one dares to continue the argument. 

   Fuck the basketball team and going to stupid Indianapolis for a game , Max thinks. Because now no one is there to compete with her, and Lucas isn’t here and it’s driving her insane. 

  She really shouldn’t be missing the way he presses a hand to his forehead while furiously scribbling notes in class. She shouldn’t be missing the bounce of his knee when Lucas is in his zone, at ease and working on his classwork. She shouldn’t be missing his head turn to roll his eyes at her every time she points something out in class. 

  But she does, and it’s essentially tearing her apart. 

  All this over a boy. She is not down for him, nor is she particularly fond of him, but damn, she misses him. 

   “Maxine Mayfield!” 

  Max walks up onto the stage, flourishing with her red hair blowing in the wind under her graduation cap. She has the widest grin on her face, she’s thriving in the Converse she’s worn under her gown, and the sun is bright in the sky as the principal hands her her diploma and she faintly hears Steve and the rest of her friends yelling her name. 

  “I love you, MadMax!” Lucas yells, once she’s heading down the aisle and the cheer has died down. A rumble of laughter and aww s echo through the football field, and Max rolls her eyes, blowing a kiss back in his direction before settling down in her seat. 

  “You guys are cute,” Jenny Miller next to her says. “It was fun watching you guys argue in middle school, honestly. I’m glad this happened.” 

  Max’s smile doesn’t leave her face. “Thanks.” 

  When Lucas’s name is called, Max gets out of her seat to scream his name above the roaring crowd. Even with everyone chanting the Hawkins High basketball captain’s name, Max’s heart warms when he turns to her to focus on her voice specifically. As soon as he gets his diploma, he borrows the microphone from their principal. 

  “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, everyone. I’m sure I’m leaving the basketball team in the good hands of Bryan Clyde, so keep it up, man!” 

  The crowd roars again, louder for Bryan Clyde. 

  “Max Mayfield, I love you! Goodbye, Hawkins!” Lucas yells into the mic above the cheers, handing it back to the principal and all but hopping off the stage and flying into Max’s seated row to dramatically hug her. It’s not time for inter-alphabetical hugs yet, but Max cannot find it in herself to care. 

  “I love you, Lucas, but you have to get back to your seat,” Max laughs, glad her seat is in the aisle way. 

  Lucas laughs in return. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you after we’re pronounced, babe.” He swoops in a kiss on her cheek before gliding back down to his seat two rows behind her.

"If I sleep now, I'll sleep forever," Max says, taking another sip of coffee. "This paper isn't gonna write itself, Stalker." 

  Lucas folds her clothes on her bed as if they're something more than rivals. "Well, you should. You haven't slept in two days. That's forty-eight hours, MadMax." 

  Max rolls her eyes, taking her pencil in her hand to continue her essay. "I can do math. And I'm aware. Listen, once I get this in tomorrow, I'll sleep through the weekend." 

  "Can you just take a nap for an hour? Your paper is fine. You don't need to add more to it." 

  "It's only three pages so far, and I'm not into my final argument yet," Max protests. 

  "Yeah, no. This is due Monday. There's no need to turn it in on Friday. Come on, you're going to bed." Lucas gets up, puts her clothes in her closet, and reaches over for her. 

  Max is too weak and sleep-deprived to fight back when Lucas lifts her up effortlessly and lightly tugs off the hairtie securing her hair into a bun. "Lucas-" 

  "Nuh uh. I've set your alarm for an hour. You're going to sleep, you're going to wake up, and you're going to be refreshed. Deal?" 

  "Fine," Max says, yawning. "Stay, though." 

  "I really can't  not stay," Lucas smirks, settling in next to her.

  Oh, she is so in love with him.

  When they’re pronounced graduated, Max flies straight into Lucas’s arms, letting him dip her dramatically into the most movie-cliche kiss she’s ever experienced. “I love you, I love you, I love you-” Lucas does not stop as he continues pecking her all around her face. 

  “We’re fucking free!” Max laughs into his ear as the rest of the Party and Steve join the circle. 

  “Too much PDA,” Steve announces as he takes his Polaroid out. “Pictures, pictures, pictures!” 

  Max doesn’t let Lucas go during the rest of the pictures. 

  She squeezes his hand in assurance, and he squeezes back, smiling at her. 

   Yeah, Max realizes. This is home.