Chapter Fifteen

All Downhill From Here

The girl with the snow-white hair and smirky smirk comes closer, and even though Max is a foot away from me, I can feel tension radiate off him.

When she stops and quietly starts to laugh, his jaw goes rigid.

"Cat got your tongue or what?"

Max doesn't say a word but he doesn't really have to. His annoyance is directed at her in the roll of his eyes and the heavy, irritated taps his converse make on the thick, spongy grass.

"Oh, no wait, we've got your cat," she says, laughing still. "Dad keeps shooing the bastard away but he continues to sneak in for some pussy...cat company. Sound familiar?"

My tummy lurches.

If only I could hit rewind. If only this situation was a crappy song I could skip or force back to the beginning and ignore.

Why did I have let curiosity get the better of me?

"Not now Libby," Max says, like he's her dad.

She shrugs it off and turns her attention to me. "Whose this then?"

"Who? Me?" I mumble, repeating her words like a drunken parrot.

"Yeah you."

"I'm Josie."

Libby wrinkles her nose. "So, why were you spying on me from the alley, Josie?"

I shuffle on my feet and turn to Max for support, as if he'll be able to bail me out of the mess I've made.

Max stares back, shoulders hunched until he caves in. "We heard you drumming."

Twisting on the chunky heel of her cherry red Doc Marten's, she does a mock curtsey and tosses her hair back. "Aw, really?"

"I wouldn't look so chuffed. We heard you only because you gave us no other choice."

"It's called playing the drums Max."

He tuts and the lurching in my tummy intensifies. The one question I want answered and at the same time not, because I'm scared, bounces round in my head like a shuttlecock.

What is the deal between them? Did they... Did they... No. No way.

"It's called playing the drums, badly," He fires back, shaking his head in disbelief. His lips are curled up, as if ready to smile but I know he's not happy. Mostly irritated. Like one might be at coming face to face with an ex.

"Oh shut up," Libby says, kicking the grass with one boot. Her hands fall to her hips. "If you're here to dob me in, then you can fuck off. My parents aren't even in anyways. And in case you'd forgotten, neither is she."

She?

Max shoves his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, I know."

"So what then?"

I stare at Libby, who stares Max down with icy confidence and minor amusement because his ears have gone all red and his face is half way there. In turn he stares right back and it gets very quiet, uncomfortably so.

"Cool kit," I say, before I can stop myself.

Libby cocks her head. "Cheers."

With my eyes, I trace the black drum kit and shiny, brass cymbals arranged inside the garage and the many poster stuck to the walls, of longhaired guys and girls behind similar looking drum sets. "Do you always practice in there?"

I hear Max mumble under his breath oh here we go and I realise that making small talk might not be the best thing, but it seems to be working, slightly, if Libby's hint of a smile is anything to go by.

At least she doesn't have the look of someone who wouldn't hesitate to bury us in her backyard or a girl royally pissed off to see another by Max's side.

"It's the only place I'm allowed to."

No surprise, I hear Max mumble.

"Actually," I say, carefully stepping forwards, trying to act all casual. I slouch my shoulders to match hers and toss my hair back even though it means my cheeks are no longer partially hidden. I have to hope she won't notice how red they've gone. "I was the one who dragged Max to the alley, and here."

Libby doesn't say anything, waits for me to continue.

"Uh and well, because I wanted to hear more. You're good."

"Yeah I know."

If only I could be so confident.

"That's why you caught be looking over. Curiosity got the better of me."

"There you have it, no need for any further interrogation," Max says, sighing. He reaches out to tap my arm. "Time for us to leave now."

"So you can continue to absolutely butcher a classic song?" Libby giggles, with the quick poke of her tongue. "And you say I'm the one who plays their instrument badly..."

"You heard us?" I squeak, instantly self-conscious. 'When? Today? How?"

She nods. "Noise travels, duh."

"Josie, don't listen-"

Libby cuts Max off by holding up her hand. "The singing wasn't so bad but the guitar needs work. A lot of work."

"Sure it does," Max scoffs, as if he couldn't care less though I know he'll take such a dig to heart. He's not as good an actor as he thinks. Libby must know this too.

"And the timing is off. And it's kind of... bland."

"Blondie's not bland," I say, wishing I hadn't because it makes her eyes narrow.

"I didn't say they were," she tuts, though her expression softens. "I said you guys were."

My cheeks flush. Max's too. "Oh."

Throwing her hands up, she scrunches her face and says, "I'm just being honest. All I mean by it is that it's not punk at all. It should be played faster. Harder. You want to put people in the hospital from dancing so hard, not from falling asleep."

I swallow hard. Deep down I know she's right.

With a short smile, she says, "I don't mean to sound bias, but like, you guys need a proper beat, some drums, some god damn bass."

"We're fine, thanks." Max starts to step back, one food behind the other towards the gap in the fence. He wiggles his eyebrows at me to follow.

"Suit yourself then. Whatever. Just trying to help."

As Libby starts to turn, I make a decision I know I might come to regret but one that might at least boost my chances of beating Maddie and winning the bet.

If I thought she was at all wrong I'd be back over the fence already.

But she's not.

"Wait," I say, louder than anticipated and desperate too. "Do you think you'd be able to help us out?"

Libby stops.

Max stops.

Fiddling with the cords of her baggy jogging bottoms, she glances up and sighs, "You want me to drum for you?"

"Uh, maybe." I know Max is shaking his head but I don't stop. "Just to practice, see if it sounds any better."

"It would," she says, sharply.

"Josie," Max warns, so quietly I sense he's close to giving up trying to stop me.

"Okay then, yeah. We do. Would you do it?"

Max shakes his head again. "There is no 'we'. For the record."

"What's it for anyways? You guys hoping to get a recording deal or something?" The way she flat out ignores him and laughs makes my ears wince but I work through it.

"No," I laugh back, "Just a song we're performing for our college's talent show."

Libby rolls her eyes and lip back, unimpressed.

"It's for charity."

Her shoulders lift and fall, less unimpressed.

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's not a no."

"Do you ever give yourself a rest?" He says, voice cracking. "Is it not exhausting to always be this... rude?"

Libby grins. "Is it exhausting to still be so in love with someone who's long since forgotten about you?"

"Is it exhausting to be so jealous?" Max snorts. "And to constantly make up such lies?"

I freeze to the spot, caught in the crossfire. Irrationally I wish to scream out for them to stop and get a damn room already, no matter how that makes me feel to think of Max with a girl. This girl to be exact, whose stroppy and stompy and smirky and weirdly, infectiously confident attitude threatens to swallow up our whole afternoon left to practice.

"Of her? As if!" Libby says, face dropping to indicate the contrary. "She wishes!"

My frustration bubbles over.

"Who wishes?" I ask, cutting through the crap.  "Who are you talking about?"

Looking past me, Libby's eyes dart back and forth. I hear Max tap his feet again. A few seconds pass. No one says a word.

Then, "Oh shit. Wait, are you two together?"

I start to laugh like someone caught lying. "Huh? Who? Us?"

"Yeah, you two." She appears worried. "Bollocks. I've said too much. Whoopsie. My bad."

I hold out my hands. "No, no you're wrong. We're not 'together' Hah." And I roll my eyes a little too far, a little too hard. "As if!"

"Oh phew! That's alright then," Libby replies, wiping her forehead.

I turn and catch Max looking down at the grass. When he notices me, he shrugs, but nods too and says, "Yeah, what Josie said, just friends," and he carries on staring at soil.

"For a second I thought I'd actually caused some real trouble."

"Why?"

Libby points up at her house and a double window, with the curtains half drawn. "My sister."

I'm confused. Apparently so is she.

"She. My sister is the she," Libby says, watching how my face drops like ice cream off a spoon on a hot day. "I was just winding him up about her, Because most of the time she's a heinous bitch and anyone that can stand to be near her, let alone with her has to have a screw loose."

"Oh." I should have expected the worst and, well, a part of me did, I just wasn't thinking past the obviousness of Libby.

"My sister and Max went out for a bit," she says, voice quiet, softer. "Didn't you?"

Max comes forward again. "I wouldn't call it that."

She rolls her eyes and covers her mouth with a hand, like he won't be able to hear her if she does. "Sneaking in and out then. They did it for like, the whole of last summer. It sucked. And was so gross."

I want to throw my hands over my ears, to block it out but I can't. "Right."

"My room's next to hers and it-"

"And it's none of your business and we don't need to talk about it because again, none of your business," Max's cheeks are lobster red, worryingly so.

"Fine," Libby sighs, pretending to gag. "Like I'd want to waste anymore time talking about her anyways."

"Is she in?" I ask, betraying every urge to stay quiet and not ask potentially upsetting questions. "Your sister?"

"She's at Uni. Thank god."

I notice Max fold his arms and tongue the inside of his mouth, eyes on everything both us.

"Which one?"

"One far enough away so none of us have to see her much."

I nod and wring my hands together. "Okay, cool, so uh, we'll let you get back to whatever you were doing." My mind goes blank. I just want to get out. Get away from everything I now know and from Max and Libby and today.

I want to go home.

Libby stops me. "But what about the drumming? You still need me, don't you?"

Before I can speak, Max pipes up and says, "Fine. Come over tomorrow. We practice in the afternoon, mostly."

"I'm not lugging my kit all the way over there," she protests.

"We'll come over here then."

"Fine. But you have to be out by six, no later. My dad's not a big fan of yours, remember?"

Max nods. "Yes, I do."

Libby offers out her hand, a wide smile on her face, like butter wouldn't melt. "That's sorted then."

He's hesitant to shake it. He glances at me before he does. I nod. I've nothing left to give to this conversation. I've checked out trying to fathom a way to go back in time and not know about Max and Libby's sister and the sneaking in and-

"Okay then." He shakes her hand.

Libby grins. "Great."

"Finally, we can get out of here."

She grips on to his hand. "There's one more condition.

"You have got to be kidding me," he puffs, tugging his hand back.

Libby continues on regardless. "Due to an incident beyond my control, I've been suspended from school until my exams and, well, my dad's annoyed."

"No shit," Max laughs. "Punch someone again did we?"

"Who can say," she quietly chuckles, before turning serious again. "He's taken my phone and pulled the plug on the Internet and I need access to a computer. You have one don't you?"

"What do you need it for? Go to library if you have to study. Read a book."

Libby's neck flushes. "I do but I can't speak to my boyfriend that way, can I?"

Max isn't having it. "Pick up your home phone then."

"You're not listening!" Her voice cracks. "We met on this..." She pauses, as if it's a struggle to get the words out. "Music forum, for drummers. It's a long story."

With his arms still folded, Max grins, "I've the time." Pushing her into a state of mild panic.

"Whatever Max, please? I'll drum for your band and listen to whatever crappy music you force upon us during and I won't mention Sophia again, and I'll be less... loud."

"Less rude?" He counters, laughing.

"Please..."

Of course she'd be a Sophia, I think. How sophisticated. Elegant. Pretty.

As I zone in and out of listening or caring, he lets her beg, then puts her out of her misery. "Okay, sure, why not."

Her boots leave the grass as she jumps up, as if attempting to catch the sun. When she lands, she tries to high five me but I miss it.

"Cool. So, when's the next practice? Tomorrow?" She asks, beaming from ear to ear.

"Josie, you free tomorrow?" Max asks, snapping me out of thoughts and confusion and horrible, stupid feelings that I wish would just go away. "Josie?"

"Yeah. Free," I say, pulling out my phone.

"Tomorrow it is then!" Libby says, slowly backing away.

Max gives her a limp wave and gently knocks his arm to mine. "Want to get one last practice in before we go all in and become a trio?"

"I'm kind of tired. Mum's doing an early dinner," I fib, watching Libby skip back to the garage and close the glass sliding door.

"She is? Oh, okay then."

"I'm going to get my bag from inside yours."

"Do you want a lift?" Max offers, his eyes wide with concern. I know he's not buying my little white lies but he doesn't call me out.

As a crash of drums fill the space around us, I turn and start the walk back down the alleyway. "Nah, mum's picking me up."

* * *

When Max waves me off from the step of his porch, I wave back and weave my way down his road, pretending to be on the phone to a mum whose 'late' and who can't possibly waste any more time driving further up into the valley.

I say I'll meet her a road down.

He buys it. I make such a speedy exit, he that he has no other choice. 

Casually, I continue to walk until I'm completely out of sight and out of my lie.

And then I run.

All the way home until I'm red in the face, and until I can't feel anything but blood rushing through it. Nothing else at all.