Her Titans by Genevieve Jasper

Maxton

14

Monday passes uneventfully and I head home, hoping Quincy hasn’t managed to piss Madelaine off in the last twenty-four hours and cause her to camp out in her room. Thankfully it doesn’t look like he has and I find her at the dining table surrounded by paperwork when I get in.

“Hey, belle,” I say, making her jump. She looks up with a small frown on her face that gets replaced by a big smile when she sees it’s me. I feel like the Grinch, my heart just grew three sizes.

“Hey,” she replies. “What does belle mean?”

“It’s beautiful in French,” I say, which makes her smile widen even further. “What are you up to?” I ask, sitting down next to her.

She sighs and puts her pen down. “Just insurance stuff. I have to list everything I owned that was in the house and the car, or at least everything I want to claim for.” She pulls a face. “I’ve been here forever. Then I have to decide whether I want a payout or a rebuild. Same for the car, replacement or cash.”

“You know who would be great at this?” I ask her but she obviously knows who I mean as she rolls her eyes, making me smile. I’ve been doing a lot of that since she moved in. “What do you think you’ll decide?”

“I have no idea. I loved that house, it was my first proper home after my dad died. It was so special but rebuilding it won’t be the same, will it? I think it’s tainted now, even if we find whoever did it. I’m not sure if I’ll ever feel safe there.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your dad.”

“That’s okay, you didn’t do it,” she replies with a weak smile. “As for the car, I guess whichever makes the most financial sense. It was just a reliable runaround, there was no sentimental value.”

“Atlas is the one you need to speak to about cars,” I tell her.

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think the payout will stretch to a Hummer, but I’ll bear it in mind,” she says as she laughs. That might be my favourite sound.

“Speaking of, he wanted me to tell you he’s got business shit to do tonight so will be back later.”

“Yeah, Quincy’s out, too.”

“Doing what?”

“Running some errands for me,” she says, looking very pleased with herself.

“I would make the most of that, it doesn’t happen often. What other tasks has he got before you forgive him?”

“I think I have forgiven him, he’s pretty hard to stay mad at. But don’t tell him that. I wasn’t even that mad, more hurt. Stupid, really.”

“It’s not stupid. He told you he trusted you and then accused you the very next time something came up.”

“But why do I care so much about what he thinks? I’m sure most people don’t get upset about the housemate of the guy they’re sleeping with not liking them,” she tries to joke.

“Is that who he is to you?”

She meets my gaze with a deep look, warring emotions flashing in her eyes.

“Whatever. He’s not even here, and he’s getting all the attention! Looks like it's just me and you for dinner, what do you fancy?” she asks, collecting all the paperwork.

“I don’t mind,” I reply, not putting any thought into it. I’m too busy thinking about an evening alone with her.

“Choices!”

“Huh?”

“It’s a game Lia and I play. ‘I don’t mind’ is the most infuriating answer ever, so if you say it and someone else says ‘choices’, you have to give them two options to pick from.”

“Okay, pizza or Taco Bell?”

“You don’t eat that shit, that’s cheating!” she complains.

“I eat it!” I definitely don’t, but I know they’re her favourites.

“Shall we be super chill and eat it in the lounge? I can enlighten you with Legally Blonde, another classic. And Atlas isn’t here to moan about crumbs.”

I laugh at that. She knows us all so well already.

“Done.”

Madelaine orders dinner and I let her choose for me. Her eyes widen when given free rein, so lord knows what will turn up. She goes to change into pyjamas but thankfully has a shirt on over the skimpy ones I saw before. It’s Atlas’s shirt, and I have to adjust myself when my mind wanders to her wearing my shirt, with nothing underneath. I’m knocked out of my fantasy by the food arriving, and it’s my turn for my eyes to be like saucers when I see the amount the delivery guy is carrying. I take it back into the lounge and lay it all out on the coffee table while Madelaine grabs us drinks.

“The only thing that could make this better is a Slurpee,” she declares as she comes through the door, and I have to agree. I used to be addicted to them as a kid but hadn’t had one in years before I delivered them to her door the other night. It rekindled my Slurpee obsession.

Her gaze falls on the mountain of food. “Oops, I shouldn’t be trusted when I’m hungry. Let's blame this on wanting to comfort eat my stress away.”

“How long have you got to decide for the insurers?” I ask.

“Until the end of next week, I’ve got some time.”

“If you didn’t rebuild, what would you buy?”

“No idea. I can’t think of setting roots down anywhere while that creep is still out there. What if I settle in somewhere and he finds me? I wouldn’t be able to stay.”

“Do you feel safe here?” I ask, needing her to say yes.

“Yeah, I do, but this is temporary. You guys have been generous enough as it is.”

I shrug, not saying anything but knowing that if any of us get our way, she won’t be going anywhere.

Heading to the kitchen early Wednesday morning, I’m jolted out of my half-asleep state by the last thing I thought I’d see today.

Bobbing over my normal seat at the dining table are three enormous balloons. The biggest is a solid gold sphere with ‘Happy Birthday Maxton’ written on the front with a floating present and cake on either side. I’d forgotten it was even my birthday. None of us guys ever really make a fuss, so the culprit is obvious. I stand there taking it all in: the balloons, the table confetti and the gifts sat on the table. Madelaine shuffles in rubbing her eyes but perks up when she sees me.

“Happy Birthday, Maxton!” she grins.

“How did you...” but Quince interrupts, jumping on my back and scrubbing my hair.

“Happy birthday, dude!” I throw him off just as Atlas joins the party, coming up behind Madelaine. He wraps his arms around her waist and settles a kiss on her shoulder.

“Happy Birthday, Max.”

He looks up and takes in the birthday supplies. “Is this what you got up in the middle of the night for?”

“Yeah,” Madelaine says, still grinning. “You stay up so late,” she directs at me. “Lucy will be here to make breakfast in five so I’m going to get ready and then we’ll do gifts after.” She wriggles out of Atlas’s arms and makes to leave.

“Thank you, belle,” I say before she can leave.

She meets my eyes for a beat, then leaves.

“Fuck, man. She’s going to ruin us all,” Quince says when she’s gone.

“Not this shit again, Quince,” Atlas moans. “It’s way too fucking early.” I take a seat at the table, the balloons bobbing over my head. If only our enemies could see me now.

“I don’t mean that. I mean, look at the way Max looks at her. These gifts are way too sweet to come from your best friend’s fuck buddy. I already want to rip your head off whenever you touch her, now I’ve got to beat Max too?”

“Err, Max doesn’t get to touch her,” I complain

“You’re a lot closer than I am.”

“Whose fault is that?” Atlas chips in.

“Yes, I know. I’m working on it.”

“I think we can all tell she likes you, Max,” Atlas continues. “Jury’s out on Quinn, but I’m still not doing anything to scare her off so if that means you two live the rest of your lives with blue balls, then so be it.”

“I don’t think she’s down for the polyamory shit. You should see the guilt in her eyes whenever she thinks she’s overstepped,” I tell them.

“Does she know you’re both okay with it?” Quince asks.

“How the fuck do you bring that up?”

I sigh, wishing I knew the answer to that. “How did she know it was my birthday, anyway?”

“Lucy spilled the other day so heads up At, she knows yours too.”

“Do we know hers?” I ask.

“It would’ve been in her background check, but I didn’t bother to look. Whether she was a Capricorn or a Pisces wasn’t the most pressing issue at the time,” Quinn says sarcastically.

We’re distracted from our conversation by Lucy coming in the front door.

“Oh, you’re up already? You’re never up yet! I’ll get breakfast sorted. Happy Birthday, Maxton,” she says.

“No rush, Lucy,” Atlas says. “I’m going to go get ready for work.”

“Me too,” Quinn adds, and they both leave.

“Thanks, Lucy,” I say to her.

“Balloons, eh?” she asks. “You three don’t normally decorate for birthdays.”

“It wasn’t those two. You know they can barely function as it is. It was Madelaine.”

She laughs. “I assumed as much.”

I’m lost in thought as Lucy prepares breakfast. Quince is right, we are all in way over our heads with Madelaine. How has she got us all wrapped around her little finger so easily? Would she be into being with all of us if we broached the subject with her? Has she really not contemplated a polyamorous relationship, or is that something she wouldn’t do? So many questions are running through my head. I sit there mulling them over and over until the others come back in.

“Morning, Lucy!” Madelaine calls as she crosses over to the table to join me.

“Good morning, Lai. Breakfast will be in ten, okay?”

“Great, thank you!” The others both take their usual seats so Madelaine is opposite me, with Atlas next to her, and I’ve got Quinn next to me. She grabs a large, thin gift off the table, handing it to me. “Open! They’re only silly. What do you get the guy who has everything, huh?”

“I’m sure they’re perfect,” I tell her, and I know they will be because she chose them for me. What is happening to me? I’m not normally this soppy. I tear open the paper and stare down at the square frame. The print inside shows ‘The 100 best movies of all time’ and a sharpie rolls out the bottom of the wrapping.

“You can already cross two off,” she smiles apprehensively but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, like she’s worried this gift isn’t great. I pick the sharpie up and cross over the films we watched together recently.

“Thank you, belle, it’s amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it. You’ll have to open this one next.” She points at the second gift on the table and I lean over to rip the paper off. I chuckle as I unwrap a Slurpee machine. “So maybe this is 50% birthday gift, 50% necessary purchase?” She smiles.

“Saves me running to the garage every time Quince pisses you off,” I say, earning a laugh from Madelaine and a glare from Quince. “Really, thank you.”

She beams at me, happy her gifts have gone down well. “Any birthday plans?”

“Nope.”

“Nothing?”

“Just working, we really don’t do birthdays,” I reiterate.

She rolls her eyes. “Nothing fun at all?”

“We could do a movie night, start in on this poster? I’ll even make you a Slurpee,” I offer.

Her face splits into a wide grin. “I’d love that.”

“I’m there,” Quince pipes up, and Atlas chuckles.

I’m saved from whacking him by Lucy bringing the food over. She loads the table with waffles, pancakes, fruit, and bacon. This might be my favourite birthday yet.