Maxed Steel by M.J. Fields

Becky and Chill

Max

Pulling into the parking lot,she’s white-knuckling the steering wheel.

“Much smoother turn than the last time you pulled in here.”

“Yeah, well, someone stows away in the back of your truck, like in all those Dateline shows, and that’s followed up by a near-death experience, that’ll happen.”

“Didn’t mean to scare you, Blue. I’m not gonna lie and say that I wouldn’t take another five stitches, though, if that’s what it takes to get you to look up at me like you did fifteen minutes ago. Because I would. But next time we’re alone in a vehicle, I’ll be driving, because you are as nervous as a short nun at a penguin shoot.”

“I do just fine.” She pulls into her designated parking spot and throws it in park.

“Just wanna point out that you wouldn’t have been if I didn’t grab the wheel.”

“You arrogant—”

“Aaaand I may have gotten lockjaw had I not gotten to the ER and got that shot. So, Mila, what I’m saying is we’re better together.”

She doesn’t say anything, but she yawns as she puts Becky in park.

“Do me another favor?”

She gives me a sideways glance.

“Kill the engine and just chill with me here. My ass is numb, as a matter of fact, so is my leg. If I get out and fall flat on my face, you’ll never look at me the same.”

She looks at the dashboard clock. It’s almost five in the morning, and again, she yawns before saying, “I’m heading home for the rest of the weekend, so do what you have to do to wake that leg so I can head out.”

“Not gonna try to get in your panties. Not yet, anyway. But, just so you know, that’s where this is heading.”

She turns her head and stares at me. I see her desire to argue, but exhaustion wins.

All I want to do is keep her talking. Hell, I want her to give me shit, because the more time she spends with me, the more I see the old Miller. The one who looked appalled when I passed her a dirty little note in English class, and by the end of the week was passing them back.

“Nothing to say?”

She shakes her head. “I need to go.” Then she yawns again.

“Not until you take a fifteen-minute power nap.”

“You don’t get t—”

She covers her mouth as a yawn interrupts her.

“Not a suggestion or request.”

Before she says anything, I cross my arms, close my eyes, and lean back in the seat of her Becky.

“Max, we’re not happening, so—”

“As a friend—”

She huffs, “We’re not friends.”

Opening my eyes, I roll my head to the side and look at her. “But we were friends before, and once a friend, always a friend.”

“That’s not always true.”

“In my world, it is.”

“Everyone you’ve ever been friends with is still your friend?”

I nod.

“Marcello Effisto?”

“We swim in the same school once in a while, and if he was broke down on the side of the road, I’d pull over and help him out.”

Her eyes get heavier, as she looks me over, like she’s trying to answer a question. Maybe more than one that’s swimming around in her head, yet she doesn’t.

She rests her head against the seat. “If I close my eyes for ten minutes, not fifteen, when I open them, you have to get out.”

“I can do that.”

* * *

“What the hell!”

Startled awake, I jump, and so does she, and our heads collide.

Groaning, she rubs her head. “I said ten minutes. Ten, Max! It’s—”

She grabs her keys from the dashboard where I set them after I watched her fall asleep then slowly slid sideways until her head rested on my shoulder.

“You were tired, Blue. You fell asleep. I must’ve followed suit.”

She turns the key, and the engine makes a ticking sound. She hits the dashboard. “No, no, no, no.”

“Pop the hood, and I’ll see—”

“Absolutely not. You and Becky have a history. And, in case you forgot, Sleeping Beauty, it’s not a good one.”

She grips the steering wheel and closes her eyes. “Please, please, pleeeease start. Please.” Mila turns the key, and the engine clicks then screeches, and that’s followed by a loud pop.

“This cannot be happening!” She throws her door open like a badass, and I scurry out of the passenger side like a little bitch. Not gonna lie, I’m not sure it’s because, right now, she’s scary hot and acting all badass. Or maybe it’s because she … Nope, that’s it in a nutshell—so fucking hot.

As she fidgets with the hood latch, the truck backfires again, and she jumps back, right into me. I grab her tight against me as black smoke starts billowing out from under Becky’s hood.

She struggles to get out of my arms, cursing like a sailor as I hold her back. She somehow manages to turn.

“You were supposed to last two more years, Becky.” She struggles In my hold as kicks at the truck. “Two fucking years is all I asked of you, ya heap of shit!” She continues kicking at it. “I hate you! You stupid son of a bitch! Motherfu—”

Holding her I step back “All right, Becky gets it. She’s just tired and a bit angry. She needs a nap. I’m sure she’ll be fine after a tune —up, yeah?”

She whips her head around and glares at me.

“Okay, maybe not.” I loosen my grip when she looks down.

“Please tell me that is not—”

“Nope, not my dick,” I cut her off as I reach into my pocket. “It’s my phone.”

Total lie, but I’m not admitting a damn thing right now.

She walks around to the passenger side, flips the seat forward, and then grabs a backpack and a big ass binder from behind the seat. Then she nudges the seat forward, drops the bag on the floor of billowing Becky, and grabs her phone.

“Just fucking great.” She tosses it across the truck.

“Dead battery?” I ask as I walk toward her.

She glares at me, and I wonder if smoke is rolling out of her ears, or if it’s just Becky. One more loud backfire, and a bit more smoke, I realize it’s just Becky.

Feeling pretty good about this because, one, I know a guy who works on old trucks; and also, fuck the meathead at home.

I hold my phone out to her. “You need to call Sal and tell him you’ll be staying with me. I mean, on campus this weekend.”

“This is not some joke, Max; this is my life.” Her lip starts to quiver. “I am supposed to be back home in two hours.” She holds up two fingers and repeats, “Two. And now …”

There’s very little in this world that I can’t handle, and a girl crying is one of them.

“Then you’re in luck. I happen to be heading back home myself. Sunday dinners with the family, something a growing man like me doesn’t ever miss.”

“Seriously, did you just pop your man boobs?” She throws her hands in the air.

“Not consciously. Not like this.” I pop ’em good then reach around her to grab her bag.

“I am not riding with you. I’ll call a cab or—”

“Not sure how much you bank working parties,” I cut her off as I walk toward the outer parking lot where my vehicle is parked, “but I’m guessing you’d blow that and then some.”

“You can’t go to my place.”

“No intentions of meeting the guy I’m gonna bust my ass to replace … unless he comes at me.”

I hear her stomping behind me before she sarcastically says, “’Cause I’m Max fucking Steel, and me and my crew are bad asses.”

I laugh genuinely at her, and she snaps, “Not one thing about my life is funny right now!”

I look over my shoulder at her. “Blue, have you ever heard the saying laugh and the world laughs with you?”

“Of course I have. You realize how that phrase ends, correct?”

“Nope. You?” I ask, seeing an opening here to lure her in. Then I turn and walk backward, waiting for her response.

She looks at me like duh. “Cry and you cry alone.”

“That may be your life now, but I promise you, Blue, you’ll never cry when you’re with me.”

“You are so infuriatingly naïve. People cry, Max, they do. And news flash: I have cried when I was with you. Just last night, in fact.”

“Right, I fucked that up. Thanks for having my back and setting me straight. You’ll never cry alone, again.”

“Yeah,” she huffs. “I bet you’re wrong.”

“About?”

She waves me off with one hand while hugging the thick binder to her body with the other, covering her tits. Annoying as hell, too. The nips are a dead giveaway that I’m getting to her. Pretty sure she’s hiding them.

“Would you just turn around before you get hurt and end up in the hospital again?”

Now that she’s caught up to me, I have no problem turning around, because I can see her and know she’s not going to take off. And yeah, I know that thought is fucked up, but even more so is I wouldn’t deny it if asked. I’d chase her ass down.

“I liked our first date, in act two, of the story of us. Rest assured, your virtue is safe with me. I promise not to tell anyone we slept together on night one.”

She throws her hands up in the air, dropping her binder, and she doesn’t even seem to realize it. “Max! Read the room. I’m not interested, and if I was, you’re totally blowing it.” She squats down and starts gathering colorful rectangle papers that are now falling out of her book.

I follow suit.

“This a school project?” I ask.

“No, it’s a life project.”

“Like, for shopping or—”

“They’re coupons, Max.” She is definitely annoyed as she continues shoving them inside the folders. “Things normal, and poor, people use to help stretch their budget, to feed their families.” She holds one up. “To buy toilet paper to wipe their ass for thirty-five cents less than normal.”

“I get it, Blue. I bought a parking pass all the way out on the fringe to save bank. Just never knew toilet paper was something you could save a buck on.”

She looks at me curiously.

I stand up and stretch out my hand to her.

“I can stand on my own, thank you.”

I reach down and grab her wrist, pulling her up anyway.

She pulls away and quickly begins walking away … in the wrong direction.

“Mila, this way.”

When we finally get to my truck, I look behind me to see she’s looking at my ride in confusion. It’s a far cry from the BMWs that I drove in my high school years.

I pull my keys from my pocket and hit the unlock button. Then I open the door for her. Mom would be proud.

“What do you think?”

“I never pegged you for a truck guy,” she says as she climbs in.

“Blue, my asshole just puckered when you mentioned pegging. Let’s not do that again yeah?” I laugh as I shut her door.

Climbing in, I notice her on the verge of tears.

Starting the truck, I try to figure out how to dam up those unshed tears, ease the burden a bit.

“Charger’s yours. Shouldn’t take long.” I pull mine out of my pocket. “Use mine to call home, if you need to.”

I buckle my seat belt, and she does the same.

Plugging in her phone, she says, “The news of Becky’s death isn’t going to be given over the phone.”

“She’s not dead, Blue.” I throw my truck into drive and pull out of my spot. “She’s just taking a smoke break.”

Looking out of the window, she shakes her head. “This isn’t funny, Max, okay? This isn’t, and unless you want me to throw myself out of your freaking perfectly running, ‘old’ truck, I’m going to ask you to just stop talking.”

“She wasn’t running perfect when I bought her. Just needed some tender loving care.”

“Well, good for her.”

Trying to figure out what the hell to say, the right thing to say—anything, actually, because this quiet is kicking my ass.

Rolling up to the light, I say, “Thinking you need a little of that right now, too.”

“Max …” she says, her voice shaking in frustration.

“Sorry, Blue, I’ve never been real comfortable in silence. I didn’t grow up in that kind of space. The ocean isn’t quiet, not when you know it like I do. And reading was always something Mom encouraged, and I loved it, but that all changed when you and I started passing notes.”

“You started passing notes. I ignored you.”

I can’t help but laugh as I hit the gas and pull through the light.

“Aaaand then you didn’t.” She reaches out and slugs my arm.

“Be careful, Blue; you punch Steel, you’re gonna hurt yourself. And BTW, you gave as good as you got.”

“Better.”

“Not gonna disagree. You remember the first one you sent back?”

“No.” Her voice squeaks.

“You asked me when I joined the circus, because it was physically impossible to have sex in that position, and all I could think was how much I wanted to prove you wrong.”

She says nothing. Not gonna lie, it’s rocking my cock-fidence

At the next stoplight, I turn and look at her. “So, tell me, Blue, what did you think?”