Stop Standing There

I was cleaning the kitchen for about the fifth time that day, wondering why the heck they couldn't just let me work today. I didn't even need to get paid. I just needed to get out of the house. I needed something to do. But no... Apparently there was a law against how many hours you could work in Canada?

I was aimlessly moving the cloth around in circles on the table when I heard a buzz. I looked up at the box on the wall, debating whether or not to get up. I was tired. Tired of everything. And it wasn't just effecting me emotionally anymore - it was draining me physichally.

It was probably Skylar, having forgot her key. The resentful part of me wanted to ignore it so she could wait - my form of small revenge. What revenge did I need, though? I wasn't even sure why I was still upset.

I sighed and stood up, pressing the button on the small white box and saying, "Hello?"

"Sarah, it's Max."

I turned around and glanced at the clock. It was 2:00 in the afternoon - practice was over for the team, but Skylar would be working until 6:00. I turned back and released the talk button, pressing instead on the button that would let the French man in. I headed into the living room, hastily making sure everything was clean there. I had checked about five times that day, but I was a bit OCD when it came to perfection.

Moments later, a knock came to the door. My stomach twisted into nerves and I took a deep breath before opening the door. Max smiled, lifting his hand in a wave. I smiled back, stepping aside to let him in.

"What's up, Max?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to do something."

My eyes widened. Well, he sure cut to the point. I ran my fingers through my hair, realizing that all I had done was brush it. I glanced down at my t-shirt and shorts, instantly panicking. I couldn't go out like this.

"Um, yeah, but uh... I'll be right back," I called over my shoulder as I hurried into my bedroom.

When I reappeared, Max was sitting on the couch. When he heard my footsteps, he turned, standing up. "Ready?"

I nodded, smoothing down my sun dress and looking in the mirror in the hall, making a face at my hair. I wanted to fix it, straighten it, put it up... But I couldn't keep Max waiting.

I grabbed my keys and purse. As we headed down the hall, there was silence between us. I didn't even think about it, since my thoughts were occupied. Like I had been doing for days, I was replaying the fight between my cousin and I, worrying if I looked presentable, and thinking about my family.

"Sarah?" Max's voice cut through my thoughts as we reached the elevator. He pushed the down button, and I turned to him, my eyebrows raised. "You didn't 'ave to change," he commented. I looked down, picking at the skirt of my dress. Was it too formal? Did he not like it? Did - "You looked good before," he added after a pause.

I bit my lip as the elevator reached our floor. The doors opened to reveal an empty box, and Max gestured with his hand for me to go first. I self consciously tugged at my clothes before running my fingers through my hair. I didn't know what to say. It was silent again, with a bit more tension, all the way down to the ground floor. We entered the lobby and crossed it, side by side, but farther apart then I would have liked. As soon as we exited the apartment building, Max placed his hand on my arm to stop me.

"What I meant was... Well I didn't mean you look bad now." I turned towards him, and he pulled me closer against the building so that people could pass by. His eyes searched mine, and I gave him a weak smile before looking down. "Do you still want to go?"

I nodded, trying not to let my emotions get the best of me. I met his eyes again, trying to give him a convincing smile. "Yes, I do," I replied. Max furrowed his eyebrows and stared at me for a moment before turning and beginning to walk again.

The ride to the small cafe was silent. This was not normal for us, and it was really getting to me. As we slid into a booth, all I could do was look down at the table, my hands on my lap.

I couldn't meet the gaze of the man before me as I said quietly, "I have to be perfect."

Max didn't say anything, and I bit my lip. I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"Nobody is perfect."

I let out a bitter laugh halfway through his sentence, before realizing that had probably come out rude. I shook my head, running a hand through my hair. I was about to set it back down in my lap when Max reached out, pulling my hand onto the table and holding on to it.

"Sarah." He didn't have to say my name, considering I was staring at him now, wide-eyed. His touch had sent my insides flying. He leaned forward a bit before speaking up. "You don't 'ave to be perfect." He paused. "Want to know a secret?" He raised his eyebrows, and I nodded with a tiny smile. "Even I'm not perfect." He let go of my hand and I let out a laugh. I smiled, pulling my hand back into my lap. I didn't say anything, and I felt Max looking at me. "Why do you feel that way?"

I chewed down on my lip. I couldn't just up and tell this man - who I was definitely developing feelings for - how much was wrong with me. I stifled a sigh, before looking up at him with a forced smile. "It doesn't matter. What are you going to eat?"

Max stared back at me, his eyebrows furrowing. I took a deep breath of relief as he dropped the subject, moving on to what he was going to order that day.

After lunch, I reluctantly climbed into Max's car so he could drive me home. The team had a game tonight against the Flyers, and neither Skylar nor I were working. I was not looking forward to being home with my cousin. I didn't really want to leave Max, either, even though the entire ride home, he had been silent.

He pulled into our apartment parking lot, and I turned to him as he came to a stop. I gave him a smile. "Thanks, Max. I had fun."

Max nodded, and I was about to get out when he said, "Are you ever going to let me in?"

I paused before sitting back in my seat. I leaned my head against the head rest, before rolling it in his direction. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat upon seeing how he was looking at me. He looked as though he really, truly cared. The thought made me want to cry.

I couldn't burden him with who I was. I couldn't do that to such a happy man. He didn't deserve that. I refused to be something that weighed him down. As much as I found myself compelled to, I couldn't let him in. I just couldn't.

"Have a good night, Max," came my quiet reply before I stepped out of the car, not turning back as I headed into the building.