Your Hand In Mine

To: Superstar
Hey.. are you busy later?

After watching the green check mark appear on the screen of my phone, I set it down on the coffee table. I let out a sigh, running my hand through my hair while getting up to go do some dishes that I had left in the sink.

Five minutes or so passed, and I still hadn't heard my phone ring. I began wondering if he saw my name and automatically deleted the text, not bothering to read it. But then I thought, was he really that cold? That was when I heard my phone play some old Metallica song my brother had set at Christmas; I had never changed it, and I was never going to. I shut off the water and dried my hands, praying that Max had texted me back.

Nope. Just tell me where and when and I'll be there

MixStirs in an hour?

I love that place. Grant or Market street?

Market

Okay, see you in an hour

I set my phone down and got back to the dishes. I know that one person living by themselves wouldn't normally have a lot of dishes and stuff to wash, but I did. And it wasn't because I was a complete pig, it was because I never put anything in the right pan then I would always end up burning it or something. Then I'd have to go back and remake it. I seriously needed to enroll in a cooking class, or better yet, watch the food channel.

So that was what I did, after I was done with the dishes, of course. It was a pain in the ass, too. I really needed a dishwasher, it would solve this whole issue.

I plopped down on my couch and flipped through the channels until I came to the Food Network. Iron Chef America was on. And guess what the "secret ingredient" was..

Barramundi.

Who the hell eats barramundi? I don't even know what the hell it is! There was no way in hell that watching extremely talented chefs make a five course meal in sixty minutes was going to help me, no way in hell.

As the show went on, though, I figured out what is was. Alton Brown said it was some fish that swims around over by Australia, and they just so happened to be the ones to name to creepy thing.

They couldn't have picked like, pasta as the "secret ingredient". I'd actually eat that. Although, it would be sort of cool to say that you know how to make a five course meal using barramundi. I don't think anybody would eat it, though, despite how pretty they made the finished product look. I know I wouldn't. I didn't even like salmon or any other kind of fish.

When the show had ended and Bobby Flay had beat some French guy, I looked at the clock; it was already two. Shit. I had to meet Max in five minutes. I grabbed my keys and practically ran out the door, thanking God I hadn't misplaced them again.

Seven minutes later, I was standing in line behind Maxime.

"Okay, so what should I get?" he asked, turning around to face me. "Oreo Madness, Marvelous Mango, Mix'd Mocha, Skinny Squeeze, or Coldkicker?"

"Yeah, um..," I drifted, scratching my head. "Top three."

He groaned. "Why must they have so many choices," he complained, dragging out the 'so'.

"It's fun to torture you, I guess," I told him as I gave my shoulders a shrug.

He stuck his tongue out at me. "Top three, here we go. Coffee Utopia, Orange Creamsicle, and," he paused, scanning the menu for at least the hundredth time. "Stir'n it Up."

"You do realized that none of those were in the other list of smoothies and shakes you rambled off before, right?"

"Yeah, I know. They just didn't sound good anymo-"

"Hi, can I help you?" some lady asked in a pissed off tone.

"Yeah, I'll have a Ragin' Raspberries, and she'll have- Shane what did you want again?" he asked, pulling a twenty out from his wallet.

"A Mix'd Dream, please," I told the lady.

"Sounds dreamy," Max gushed, fluttering his eyelashes. "Like me." She scoffed at him, and I cracked up at his humor and her reaction. He paid the lady and then we moved off to the side, waiting for our drinks.

"Somebody put their tampon in crooked this morning, damn," he mumbled out loud.

I let out a little laugh. "And I thought it was just me who thought she was a bitch."

"Nope, she might as well tattoo 'Fuck Off' on her forehead," he said.

I gave my head a nod. "Here," I said, reaching into my back pocket and pulling out a five. "For my smoothie," I explained to him.

"Shane," he started, pushing my hand away. "It's only five dollars, not even."

"I know, but somehow I still feel bad," I admitted, shoving the five dollar bill back in his direction. "Just take it, please. It'll make me happy." Correction--happier.

"Fine," he sighed as he grabbed it out of my hand and stuck it in his pocket.

"Ragin' Raspberries and Mix'd Dream!" came from a guy's mouth. The two of us moved in front of the few people standing near us, grabbing our drinks and finding an empty table.

"So," Max said, taking a sip of his smoothie. "What's up?"

"I, uh.. I sort of wanted to talk to you about Kris," I said quietly, choosing to look at his drink rather than his eyes.

"Ah, Tanger. Poor guy. He hasn't been the same," Max said as he gave his head a shake.

We didn't say anything for a moment, not until I had finally worked up the courage to ask him the one question I had wanted the answer to for a long time. "Did he really cheat on me?" I asked, facing my fear--the truth.

Max pulled the glass away from his lips and set it down on the table. "No," he shook his head. My eyes closed for a few seconds as I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in. It felt so good to hear that word. And I know the guys had tried to tell me numerous times before, but I had never believed them. But you could tell that Max was being completely honest, and I was.. relieved.

"Do you swear on your hockey stick?" I asked.

"What?" he laughed.

"Do you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Calm down, you don't need to bite my head off," he joked.

"I wouldn't. I'd shove your precious hockey stick up your ass," I smirked back at him.

"Damn. Someone needs to be tamed and put on a leash.. You should go join that lady who took our orders," he said as he pointed back to the lady.

"Fuck you, Maxime," I smiled.

"Oh, please do," he said trying to sound sexy. I just gave him a disgusted look and a little laugh.

Silence fell over the two us as we took another sip from our smoothies.

"I was really the one behind the tally, you know. Not Kris. I didn't mean for it to be anything more than a joke, and I'm so sorry it turned into what it did."

"I know, I believe you," I whispered, a faint smile on my lips. And I really did believe him, even if it took me a while.

"You know," he started. "After you were too far gone for him to see you anymore, he immediately came to me. Shane, I-I.. I can't even begin to explain the look in his eyes or the tone of his voice," he said, giving his head a shake. "He even shoved me up against the wall and grabbed me by the shirt. He hated me. And I've never seen him so pissed, not even during a game or a fight," he told me. "He wouldn't even look at me as I tried to apologize. I felt like complete shit knowing that I made him, and you, feel the way you did."

"No," I sighed. "I made Kris feel horrible. I should have believed him, that he wouldn't cheat on me. But I didn't."

"Because of me. You wouldn't have had to have that conversation, or even see that tally if it wasn't for me. No matter how you try to look at it, it's my fault," he said, dragging his thumb across his forehead and back. "It all comes back to me."

In a sense, he was right, so I didn't say anything; I just kept quiet.

"Kris, he.. he didn't really go out with us to bars to begin with. But after you were gone, he wouldn't even come out to dinner or just hang around us. He's always been a quieter guy, too, but he barely said a word. He still doesn't. I mean, it's not as bad, but you can visibly see that his heart's still broken. He just seems lost and so alone, all the time," he stressed. "And it's my fault, all of it. It was stupid of me to do. He even asked me to erase it, and I didn't, thinking that you wouldn't see it and all, that everyone knew it was a joke. God..," he sighed. "He even played like shit for a few games."

"I know, I watched," I whispered.

"You.. did?" he breathed, shock evident in his eyes.

I gave my head a slight nod. "I had a hard time at first. I had to mute it when they started going on and on about him. And eventually, I turned the TV off. But then I figured that I shouldn't stop watching the game I love because of one man, even if he played a big part in that game."

"I'm glad he didn't keep you from something so important to you." Max shook his head again, seeming to be gathering more thoughts as he shifted in his chair. "He didn't know what to do. He was so.. beside himself. He thinks that maybe time will fix things, but I don't how long he can take it. I mean, I know he'd wait forever if it took that long because he loves you enough to do so, but I don't think he wants to wait anymore. I feel so horrible watching him suffer," he said. "He just wants you back, Shane," he sighed, looking down. "And then your brother passed away. I'm sorry for bringing it up, I know it hurts," he said, and I gave my head a little nod, a few tears forming because of all the things he was telling me about Kris and now Josh. "But you should have seen his face fall when he heard what happened. As if he wasn't down enough, that was like a.. second kick to the nuts, if you will," he tried, obviously not good with metaphors and stuff. But it was okay, he just, he created his own. "He wanted to be there for you and let you know that what you were feeling was normal, that you weren't alone, and that one day, you'd be okay again. You'd smile when you thought of your brother instead of cry, you know? Even if you two weren't together again, he just wanted to comfort you and be there for you. He just wants you to be happy again, even if that means you don't find happiness with him.. But I think he deserves to know if you choose to go on with life with or without him."

By now, there were tears sliding now my cheeks.

"Please don't cry, Shane," Max frowned. "You've cried enough already." I nodded my head a little, trying to wipe away the salty tears.

Max pulled out his phone and sighed, shutting it. "Hey.. I have to get going. It's almost three, and I have to start my pre-game crap. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," I told him as I stood up, Max doing the same. "Good luck tonight, Max," I smiled, giving him a hug.

"Thank you," he said, holding me close for a moment before letting go. "You want to come tonight? You could sit up with Mario if you wanted.. Or is it too soon? Yeah, probably," he rambled.

"I'd love to," I said, dragging it out a little, making it seem like there was more to be said, and there was.

"But?" he said as he threw our almost-empty smoothies away.

"But I have to work. If I wasn't covering for a friend of mine, Mia, I'd call off. But I can't. I'm really sorry," I sort of frowned.

"It's alright," he replied as he pushed the door open and let me walk out first. "I'll get you tickets for another game."

I gave my head a nod. "Thanks for coming, Max. Don't be so hard on yourself, okay?" I smiled.

"I'm not. Well, at least not as bad as Kris."

A frown made it's way onto my face, I felt awful.

"Yellow car!" Maxime yelled out of nowhere, socking me in the shoulder then running away like a little kid who just stole a cookie.

"ASSHOLE!" I shouted back at him half way down the street.