Chimney Swift
i am confusion
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TL;DR
Lemon and Max plan a movie marathon
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tl;dr
Max Berkowitz
"It's Fine."
The truck that pulled up in front of Max's house sent a bloody chill down his spine.
It looked like it had been mauled by a moose. He had no other way to describe it. Just… had someone attacked it with a bat? Could a bat even inflict this much damage?
Lemon stepping out of the dented chunk of metal, cheerful as ever, somehow made the situation feel so surreal that Max instinctively pinched his arm as if to break himself out of a dream.
So this is what she meant when she said she'd have to explain the truck?
Max, not wanting to be rude, gave her the same friendly wave he always did, though his face betrayed his nerves.
"Your dad's?" Max knew Lemon knew those 2 words, at least, but he feared the answer. What kind of driver was her dad? This looked like a getaway car that had fled one too many bank heists.
Part of Max worried that her dad was a drunk driver or something. He couldn't just ask that outright, though, so he swallowed the anxiety and smiled, which didn't make him look any less nervous.
Lemon seemed the opposite of nervous, though. She was just as happy and excited to be finally seeing these movies as she'd seemed online. Max told himself to take this as a good sign, in spite of the lingering fear, and watched her as she tried her best to ask him what they were watching first.
That got a more genuine smile out of him.
He couldn't express how much he appreciated that she was learning. For all their little arguments, Lemon was a good friend. A better friend, perhaps, than Max could ever hope to be.
"Film?" Max slowly, clearly went through the simple word. "Oh. Definitely Nightmare on Elm Street." Spelling out the title took long enough, in trying to make sure that she saw every letter clearly, that he hoped he hadn't lost her by the end of it. He shrugged sheepishly and his hand stalled, trying to phrase and structure his next sentence as simply as possible. He had the notepad to fall back on, but really wanted Lemon to have the practice. "People… talk about it a lot." He didn't know if she'd catch the pronoun or not. He supposed it didn't matter, though.
"Uh-- anyway, come on in." He opened the door for her, walking side-by-side with her into the clean and spacious living room. Family pictures lined the mantelpiece of the fireplace, the coffee table was adorned with an oddly elegant wooden duck sculpture, and other than that it looked very quiet and unassuming. Not ostentatious, but clearly affluent. Despite this, Max seemed to show a twinge of embarrassment. Having new people in the house always felt like being judged, somehow, He'd always felt that way, even if Lemon was probably the least judgmental person he knew. Another irrational anxiety, but constant nonetheless.
His next sentence had him fumbling through his notepad, scratching out large, slightly lopsided letters: "you can leave your shoes on if you want. My room is upstairs." He passed it over, again with a somewhat apologetic look.
Despite the nerves, though, he really was happy she was here. Since they got put into different high schools, they didn't get to hang out as much as before. And more than anything, he missed having her around often. Besides, what could be more fun than watching all these movies with her? She had a lot of cinematic catching-up to do, and Max was beyond excited to be her viewing partner.
code by valen t.