I sat in my backyard all day, kicking around my ball or tossing it into the air as I tried to think my plan through.

I was going to satisfy my mom and go talk to Max. That, of course, took a ton of mental preparation. I knew that he would push me away, would say whatever cruel remark came to mind because he didn't want pity. . . or the girl that he had always hated because I was competition.

"You can do it." I said to myself over and over, and I knew I could. It's not like he was the devil and would take my soul. He would only put me down until I couldn't take it anymore and I walked out or exploded. It wouldn't be that bad, it couldn't be.

"Mom!" I yelled back toward the house. She peeked out of the open door and gave me a weary look.

"Yes, Quinn?" She asked.

"I'm going to go talk to Max." The tired look drained from her face and was replaced by an excited one.

"That's great, sweetie! I'm glad you decided to do this! Say hello to Margaret and Max for me!" I nodded and hugged my soccer ball to my chest, knowing that it would act as my security blanket. Just as I crossed the street I nearly tripped and my soccer ball went flying from my hands and rolled into the Duncan's backyard. I could feel heat rush to my cheeks when I looked up to find familiar thin and frail hands picking the ball up.

"Sorry." I blurted, standing up so I didn't look so weak and embarassed. Max looked up from where he stared down at my soccer ball in his hands, his dark green eyes cold.

"Whatever. Maybe you should try kicking the ball in the other direction." He snapped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I couldn't stop the words before they left my mouth.

"Well maybe you should try to not be such a self absorbed asshole for more than a minute." I threw my hand over my mouth once the words left it, my cheeks growing even warmer. Why had I just said that? The guy was in a wheelchair for christsake, he didn't have any friends or a career, he didn't need me making matters worse.

"I tried being nice once," He finally responded, avoiding eye contact. "It resulted in me getting paralyzed. Fuck nice people and karma. Karma is the bullshit lie that people make up to assure themselves that the person that cut them in line will get what's coming to them because they feel so bad about themselves." I only stared at him, my hand slowly dropping back down to my side.

How could someone that had their whole life torn away from them still had the same shitty attitude and outlook on life? Wasn't nearly dying enough to change someone's way of thinking?

"You don't know how to respond, do you? Not a surprise, Cyrus. I knew that you were obsessed with your feminist and equal rights bullshit, but I never realized that you were this naive." He growled, shaking his head as a smirk stretched across his face. I fought the urge to slap him as hard as I could across the face and clenched my hand into a fist at my side instead.

"Look, Max. I'm willing to start over here if you are. The only reason I was going to come over here was to please my mom. She thinks that you need a friend, and apparently that friend has to be me. So if you can't stop your whole I-don't-care-but-I-really-do act, I'd appreciate it." He opened his mouth to snap something out, but I held up my finger and he slowly shut it.

"I don't want to hear your defensive crap about how annoying or stupid or naive I am, Max. I am sick and tired of you treating me as nothing but a dog because you saw me as competition. Now you don't have to try, okay? We can act as equals and. . ."

"You'll never be as good as me, Cyrus. You can sit here and try to feed me all this "we can be friends" shit, but it won't change who I am or the way I think. Now take you deflated ball and get out of my yard." He threw my soccer ball and I caught in, my eyes wide in surprise as I stared down at him. It was only a fraction of a second that I saw the regret flicker in his eyes, the it was gone, as if it had never been there in the first place.

"Did you not hear me, Cyrus? I do not need you or your pathetic attempt to understand what's wrong with me. Now leave. Go!" His voice started to rise as I stood frozen in front of him, my hands slowly clenching into fists at my sides once again.

"You have nothing left, Maxwell." I snarled, "You don't have any friends, you don't even have a life anymore! How dare you sit here and ridicule me when I'm trying to help you?" I finally snapped, dropping my ball from my hands and pointing my finger in his face.

"I am trying to help you, but like always, you don't think you need any help! Because you're perfect little Maxwell Duncan, the allstar soccer player. Oh wait, you were! Now you are nothing but a disabled asshole that doesn't know how to treat women with any respect. I knew there will be a day when you finally realize how much of a useless piece of shit you are when you act like this, when you act like nothing in the world effects perfect Max!" I knelt down so we were eye to eye, not feeling one ounce of regret at my words.

"But, sweetheart. Look at you now. You aren't anything. You aren't the perfect golden boy that everyone holds up on a pedestal. You are nothing but the handicap kid now, Max. And for once in the seventeen years I've known you Maxwell, I actually see feelings trying to claw there way out of you. My advice is to let them. Because nobody is going to want to help someone that doesn't want to be helped." I swung around and grabbed my soccer ball, turning my back to Max completely as I walked back toward my house.

I couldn't help but feel guilt slowly start to make it's way into my chest. One part of me was happy I had finally gotten everything I had felt about Max off my chest, but the other was horrified I had said all those things when I knew deep down that he was hurting. What I had said was wrong, but I had never felt so happy with myself.

"Quinn?" I heard Max call out behind me. I stopped dead in my tracks, surprised that he actually knew my first name.

"Yeah?" I finally whispered, glancing over my shoulder at him. A sad smile was playing on his lips and for the first time in years I could actually see the openness in his eyes. The sadness and pain that was slowly tearing him apart.

"Thank you." He breathed out, his eyes darting from my eyes to the ball in my hands.

"For what?" I asked. Why would he thank me for talking a bunch of crap?

"For trying to help me. No one has ever tried," He paused and lifted his head and let his eyes burn into mine once more, "Because no one wants to try and fix something that's broken beyond repair."

**

I had always hated the feeling of being watched. It was like a bad cold. It crept up on you without you realizing it.

As I sat on my porch with my brothers Pit Bull Dazey, I couldn't help but feel as if I were being watched despite absolutely no one being outside.

"Do you think I was wrong, Daze?" I asked her, laying my head against her side.

"I can't believe I actually stooped down to his level and went off like that." I muttered, shaking my head slightly. I could see the Duncans moving around their kitchen through the window, and for an instant I felt a pang of jealousy. I couldn't remember the last time my family had eaten together. My dad was usually staying at work after hours, or at least that's what he said. My mom buried herself in work at the hospital and never came home, and my brother was usually out sleeping around or drinking. Even when my sister and her husband would come and visit, we rarely ate together.

The jealously quickly faded once I saw Max look in my direction. Anybody that saw from far away would think they were this perfect poster family for a cereal commercial. In reality they were just as messed up as my family was. Max is just as messed up as I am.

"Because no one wants to try and fix something that's broken beyond repair." Max had said earlier when he thanked me. But as he sent me a crooked smile and turned back toward his family I couldn't help but feel the need to see that smile again. Even if it was for my own selfish reasons, I wanted to help Max.

But Quinn, I asked myself, How can you fix someone that's broken when you can barely fix yourself?

***AN***

Just a little insight on the attitudes of the two. 

I promise that the next chapter will be a lot better. 

Let me know what you guys thought!

~ChasingMadness24