Chapter 33 - "Micah, I think I'm having an existential crisis."

"Are you ready for this, Angry Biker Girl?" Courtney asked.

Max turned around at the sound of Courtney's voice then surveyed the crowd of escaping prisoners... correction, students.

Courtney and Max stood in the center of the mass exit. A focal point for passing gazes. Though Courtney was used to attention, she figured Max wasn't. Max held the strap of her bag and leaned to one side, clearly going for a confident but unbothered pose.

Might fool everyone else, but not me. Gonna have to work harder than that, Max. That strap is about to die from the stranglehold you have on it. The rebel is scared of a cheerleader, this is an amusing situation. Well, amusing if Max wasn't trying so hard to be tough.

Courtney took a step closer. "You don't have to do this. I offered but that doesn't mean you have to accept. You have nothing to prove to Brie."

Max dropped her confident pose, her eyes widening a fraction. And there's the real Max.

"How about this?" Courtney said. "I'm going to walk to my car. I'll be walking on my brace so it will take time. If you choose to follow me back to my house, that's up to you."

Without waiting for a response, Courtney headed into the parking lot. When she got to her car and looked back at the curb, Max no longer stood there. I guess we'll see.

Courtney pulled into the main school lane and drove slowly. As she passed Max and her bike, Max met her gaze. Contrary to the black attire and the motorcycle, she looked normal, like another girl who felt uncertain about who she was.

Fudge nuggets, you're human Max.

Max slid on her helmet and trailed Courtney's car out of the school parking lot. As she drove, Courtney glanced back at the rearview mirror. Every time she found Max right behind her.

Past self?

Yes, present self.

Tell me again why we offered to coach the girl who was mean to us?

Because we're making up for all misrepresented cheerleaders portrayed in teen fiction.

I feel like we need a stronger reason.

This is the girl Micah likes and if you want to stay his friend you'll have to be on good terms with her.

Wow, wish my past self was less logical. Can't you come up with a weaker argument for me to go against?

You have a compulsive need for people to like you.

I'm leaving this conversation.

You can leave this conversation but you can't leave yourself behind.

Groaning, Courtney leaned her head back against the headrest. That was not helpful. She stopped at a red light and glared at it.

I should have said no to helping him from the beginning. Yes, I was going to be able to say no to the awkward guy who helped me in my time of need and looked adorably out of his element. Courtney moaned in despair as she clutched the steering wheel and laid her forehead on it.

What's the point of being a cute blonde if the guy likes someone else?

Courtney jerked upright. That's it. Pathetic whining moment over. Too much self-pity will only create wrinkles. She shook her head and then her body. Let it go. Fact: Micah likes Max. Fact: I am his friend. Fact: this sucks but that's life. Fact: get over it.

The light turned green and Courtney drove on.

By the time Courtney parked her car, she could greet Max with a pleasant smile, having spent the rest of the drive mentally flinging her unwanted thoughts out the window. She only hoped they didn't hitchhike their way back to her.

As Max pulled off her helmet, she gazed at Courtney's house.

"You have a nice house," Max said.

"Can't take credit for it," Courtney said. "But on my parents' behalf, I'll say, thank you."

Max continued to gaze over the house as they walked up to it and stepped inside. As Courtney told Max she could leave her helmet by the door, Courtney's father appeared from a hallway. At seeing them, he brightened.

"Fantastic," he said. "A female in her mid-teens."

Courtney held up her hand. "No. This is Max's first time being here, you are not going to put her through a survey."

"But she's the demographic I need right now," her father said.

"No."

"Sunshine, come on."

"Mom!" Courtney yelled towards the open office doors.

"George."

"Lauren!"

"George."

"Dad."

"Daughter."

"George."

"Fine." Her father's less than pleased expression reverted to his normal friendly one as he held out his hand. "Hello, I'm Courtney's father and that's the only role I seem to be playing today. It's nice to you meet you. Do you have a name by any chance?"

Courtney watched as Max went from bewildered to vaguely unsure but slightly entertained. It was a very specific facial sequence and one Courtney knew by heart.

"I'm Max," Max said.

"A pleasure to meet you. If you need anything, let me know. I function as a supportive parent fairly well."

Max's expression fully switched to enjoyment and Courtney rolled her eyes. Max had witnessed her father's petulant antics and still, he managed to win her over in two seconds. She swore it was a superpower.

"I'll leave you two to whatever it is you're going to do," he said.

He kissed the top of Courtney's head before slipping into the office. Courtney heard her mother repeat her husband's name in a more pointed tone than the even one before.

"Lauren, she was our demographic."

"Come on," Courtney said.

Best to leave before the scolding got underway.

"Do you have workout clothes to change into?" Courtney asked.

Max nodded. After a brief stop at the bathroom, the pair headed through the house to the backyard. But if Courtney thought they would find solitude from her bizarre family there, she was mistaken. She spotted Miles sitting on one of the lounge chairs, working on his iPad.

"What are you doing out of the Batcave?" Courtney asked.

Miles didn't even glance up from his work. "Mom said I had to get at least two hours of sunlight every couple of days or there would be consequences."

"Did she mention what those consequences would be?"

"No, but I figured they'd be creative enough that I'd want to avoid them."

Finally, he raised his head and looked startled at seeing that Courtney wasn't alone.

"Oh."

"We were going to work out here," Courtney said.

"I can leave if that would make you more comfortable."

Courtney looked at Max for an answer. Having her brother around wouldn't make a difference to her. She'd performed cheer routines in Miles's room because one, she didn't want to be alone and two, it annoyed him which as a little sister was her right to claim.

"It's fine," Max said.

Which was a lie. Where was the bold, blunt girl who stared Courtney down like she was a vivacious dragon?

"Leave, Miles," Courtney said. "You make me uncomfortable. You're too judgy of my cheer routines."

"I just think your expressions could be more creative."

"We're cheering for football, not the poet's society."

Miles shrugged and stood up, tucking his iPad underneath his arm. He stopped before Max and held out his hand.

"I'm Miles, by the way," he said.

"I'm Max."

Miles turned a sharp look to Courtney. Which felt unwarranted, a safely dull-knifed look would have been fine. No need to be waving around sharp things. People could get hurt.

"What did I tell you about M names," he said.

"This is M-A, so technically, I'm in the clear. Besides, you're leaving so that solves the problem."

"True."

Miles left without anything more said. When Courtney focused on Max she knew what she'd find. It was the same thing she found when new friends visited her house for the first time and met her family. It was an expression that said wow-you-looked-like-an-average-white-girl-from-an-average-moderately-wealthy-family-but-now-I-have-to-question-my-previous-assumptions.

Served everyone right, they shouldn't be making assumptions in the first place.

"Do you remember any of the routine you learned from your cheer tryout?" Courtney asked.

Also best to move on, the strangeness doesn't go away and it is rather hard to explain away.

"Uh...I think so?"

"Okay, I'm going to get us some water. Try to remember as much as you can."

Max nodded and Courtney headed back inside. She didn't go to the kitchen though, instead hid out of view of Max, to watch her. Courtney didn't react when she heard footsteps approaching her.

"Why are you creepily standing here?" Miles asked.

Courtney reached back and grabbed hold of Miles's shirt, tugging him out of view.

"I need to know Max's strengths and weaknesses, that's easier to see when she isn't thinking about someone studying her."

"She's here for cheer then."

"Why else?"

"A girl in all black with a Six Feet Under band t-shirt doesn't scream cheerleader material."

"Goes to show how much clothes dictate a person's opinion."

"I'm leaving before you turn this into a lecture on why I should give more thought to my wardrobe."

"Ah, it seems contrary to your lazy appearance you do possess a smart intellect."

As Miles left, he smacked Courtney on the back of her head. She merely grinned while still observing Max. What she found in her observations made it obvious to her why Max hadn't made the squad, she had no sense of performance or rhythm. Who didn't like a challenge?

When Courtney returned outside, she carried two water bottles in one hand and held onto her single crutch with the other. Made the process of walking slow but progress was progress. And one crutch was better than two.

"Okay," Courtney said, plopping into a chair. "You need to come up with a creative insulting name for me."

"What? Why?"

Courtney grinned. "Because you'll be using it a lot as we work."

Though the name was stolen from Courtney herself, Max did as Courtney predicted and used it frequently. Especially since Courtney left behind the smiley girl everyone knew and became the intense cheer captain few ever saw.

At the end of half an hour, Courtney knew all that she needed to, and Max was sweating and breathing heavily.

"We can take a break now," Courtney said.

Not bothering to walk to one of the chairs, Max sank onto the grass and lay sprawled out. Courtney joined her on the lawn, bringing with her the second water bottle, the first already empty.

"Here," she said. "It's important to always stay hydrated. You don't want to pass out."

Weakly, Max pushed herself up and drank.

Start with the positive.

"First off," Courtney said. "You have a lot of determination, which is important."

Max gave Courtney a flat look. "You've been stopping me every two seconds to correct something I did wrong, don't try to be upbeat now. Stop patronizing me and tell it to me bluntly."

Ah, so the Angry Biker Girl still lives. I wondered if she'd died under the hesitant girl.

"All right," Courtney said. "You have zero core and arm strength, you lack rhythm, and you have no flexibility." Max froze, though this information shouldn't have come as a shock. "But if you want to put in the work, all those things are fixable."

Hesitantly, Max toyed with the water bottle as she studied Courtney. In turn, Courtney offered her most encouraging smile. Seems the Angry Biker Girl and Hesitant Girl are one and the same.

"Are you sure?" Max asked.

"I am. Do you want to stick with it?" Courtney grinned mischievously. "It might mean you become the thing you hate so much: a cheerleader."

Max sipped more water. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Despite the pause for more water, her answer was certain. Courtney couldn't help but pair this response with the outward appearance that as Miles put it, didn't give off the want-to-be-a-cheerleader vibes.

"Get my insulting title ready if you must, because I'm going to ask a question," Courtney announced.

Max eyed her but didn't say anything.

"You already tried out for the squad at your old school, but your overall aesthetic is heavily rebel, don't-mess-with-me. Was that really who you were back at your old school?"

Courtney decided to allow the excuse of Max's bright cheeks being the result of her working so hard and not from embarrassment.

"Ummm..." She twisted the bottle's cap over and over. "No, not really."

"I see. But you changed when you transferred to Oceanside?"

Wow, a week ago I could barely get you to stop talking when you were around me and now it's like dragging words out of a deep well. Come on, Angry Biker Girl.

Max looked away from Courtney, still wring the water bottle's neck. First off, rude. What did the bottle ever do to her except give her hydration?

"It's going to sound stupid," Max said.

"Well, you've already had a couple of weeks of that, so you can't get any worse. Just spit it out." Courtney playfully tugged on Max's arm. "Come on Angry Biker Girl, what made you become an angry biker girl?"

"I thought that if I looked tough...Well, that I wouldn't be messed with like... like I had been." Max flopped back on the grass and snorted derisively. "It's stupid, I know."

"Not really."

Max raised her head, disbelieving. Courtney shrugged. Something she was able to fully pull off since she wasn't hindered by crutches.

"You didn't want to be hurt, so you put on a persona of someone who couldn't be. Big whoop, you're like everyone other teenager trying to figure out who they are. To your credit, you did a great job. The motorcycle and leather jacket were perfect touches."

Max laid her head back down and Courtney noticed her mouth twitch. "My dad works on motorcycles and since our move, I would need a way to get to school so it fit. And my mom is the manager of a boutique. I kinda went with it." She turned her head to look at Courtney. "You don't think I'm strange?"

"Nope, I've seen a lot of people do it. Blake is one of them." This made Max sit up, her self-conscientiousness forgotten. "Yeah, that whole bad boy thing you like about him. Completely put on."

"Really?"

"Yup. Has he done the whole thing where he acts like something is happening at home that he doesn't want to talk about?"

"Yeah."

"You probably thought of abuse or strict parents, right? Yeah, I've known his parents my whole life and they are about the sweetest people ever. They own a bakery and are extreme literature devotees. That's how Blake knows how to play the bad boy role so well, he studied it."

"Oh."

Wow, it's almost like breaking the news that Santa isn't real.

"So when you told me I didn't know who Blake really was..."

"I wasn't being mean I was trying to tell you that what you know of him is put on. Whether there's still someone to like under that stupid persona, I don't know. But everything about what draws you to him is contrived."

Max said nothing and drank more water. Courtney leaned on her hands and dropped her head back. Truth is best absorbed in silence. As Max did some absorbing, Courtney would absorb the sun's rays.

"Are you serious about helping me improve my cheerleading?" Max asked.

Not sure where the trails of your mind went, Max but that's a good trail to follow. Leave Blake behind in the dust.

"Yeah, I am. You ready to get back to work?"

Max stood up and put her hands on her hips. "Bring it on, Brainless Blonde."

*******

Courtney leaned over her sink, rubbing her foam cleanser all over her face. Her music cut out as her phone rang. Through her blurred vision, she could make out a short name and the first two letters of M-I. She answered the FaceTime call and went back to scrubbing her face.

"How are you so lazy that you can't just walk across the hall to talk to me?" she said.

Courtney furiously worked the cleanser into her skin waiting for Miles's retort. But what she received was a cough. A distinctly awkward cough. And a cough that was most definitely not Miles.

Courtney froze. Not Miles. And not Miguel.

Oh jeez.

Woah, that whole M-I name thing did play out into something after all. I can never tell Miles, he'd never let me live it down.

Now, embarrassment or embrace?

Em going to go with the latter and hope that ladder helps me climb out of this hole of embarrassment.

"Hey, Micah."

"I thought about hanging up but figured that might be rude."

Courtney hurriedly cleaned off the foam from her face and snatched the closest towel, burying her face in it. It's fine, not like I need to be attractive to him, he likes someone else. Also, a person can't die of embarrassment, I've already proven this lately. Way too many times for my liking.

When Courtney took away the towel, she glanced in the mirror. Red face and messy hair. Fan-flippin'-tastic.

"If you'd hung up right away I would have to think that my natural state terrified you and that would be detrimental to my self-esteem. Though maybe I'm too egotistical and should think less of myself. In that case, maybe hanging up would have been for the better."

Shut up, Cory, you sound ridiculous.

"I didn't want you to feel awkward," Micah said. "But I don't think there's anything wrong with your natural state."

Oh please stop being so sweet Micah, it's making this so much worse.

"Well, thanks," Courtney said. "What did you call for?"

She snatched up her moisturizer and squeezed some out before rubbing it into her face. See, acting completely natural. Not at all embarrassed. Just doing my thing and not stressing. Definitely not stressing about Micah watching me. Nope. Totally chill.

"I was wondering if you could help me with what I should wear tomorrow."

Something normal!

"Of course," Courtney said, taking the hair tie out of her hair. The result looked worse and she inwardly sigh. No winning today. Whatever. "Are you in your closet?"

In answer, Micah flipped the camera around and she saw the pleasing sight of perfectly color-coordinated clothes. How soothing that picture was.

"Go to the blues. You'd look good in blue."

The view bobbed as Micah moved and Courtney took the time to quickly throw her hair back into a messy bun. At least this time the messiness was intentional.

"Pick out one of the darker ones that you like."

Micah shuffled through them, occasionally stopping and inspecting one. Courtney climbed onto her bed and laid down on her stomach, resting her chin in her hand. Nothing more relaxing than picking clothes. Well, picking clothes when not pressed for time. That was a type of stress that was universal.

"This one is good," Micah said, holding out a shirt that held a cartoon character that she'd never seen before.

"I like it, even though I have never seen that character before."

"It's not an American cartoon. It's an old superhero that's not actually a superhero in how we think of them. He doesn't have powers. He's made of bread and helps people by giving parts of himself to starving people."

"Slightly cannibalistic but okay."

The screen flipped to show Micah. "I like it because he's not like Thor or Captain American who are unstoppable. He's average but can still help people."

Stop it, heart. Stop freaking out, that was not that big of a deal. Okay, maybe that is a heartwarming sentiment. Never mind heart, you can be happy. Because that was thoughtful, that's all. Not for any other reasons.

"I like him too. Now, shorts. To the shorts drawer!"

Micah smiled and the Courtney only caught it for a second before the screen flipped again. Micah opened the drawer and a chaos of shorts appeared.

"I think I need to break into your house and organize your shorts," Courtney said.

"Why do you have to break in? Why can't you simply come over?"

"Because it makes me more interesting."

"I don't think you need help there. Besides, my family might find it weird if you did break in."

"Like they would catch me."

"You do still have an injured ankle, don't you?"

"Your logic is too strong, I can't argue with that," Courtney said. "Being invited again will have to be the way."

"You can always come over, Cory."

Courtney fought a smile at the soft note in Micah's voice. Stop it, girl! This is not good. Quick! Evasive maneuvers!

"Good to know. Now pick out those red shorts. That should work well."

The screen jerked around before settling on the shirt and shorts laid out on the drawers.

"What do we think?" Micah asked.

Before Courtney could give her approval and quickly end the call since her heart was rebelling, a bright voice called out.

"Micah, you said you'd help me with my English homework. Oh! Who are you talking to?"

"Fee! Don't!"

The screen jumped, rushed, and spun like some small bizarre roller coast then Felicity appeared. She peered closely as if trying to scare whoever was on the other end.

"Cory! Hi!"

"Hey, Fee," Courtney said.

Felicity flopped down onto Micah's bed and Courtney could see Micah rolling his eyes behind his sister's shoulder.

"How's the ankle?" Felicity asked.

"Progressing. I can walk on it with a brace."

The phone dropped and Courtney saw hands clapping excitedly then Felicity came back.

"That's great! Let me know when the brace comes off. My mom knows a million strengthening exercises and I can be there for moral support when you have to do them." She beamed. "I'll be the cheerleader to the cheerleader!"

"I'd be honored."

Micah dove forward and snatched the phone out of Felicity's hands.

"Hey!"

"My room, my phone, my friend. Can you please leave?"

Hear that, Cory? Friend. Say it with me: fffrrriiieenndd. What an absolutely terrible word.

"You said you'd help me with my English homework," Felicity said.

"And I will. Now go."

"Fine."

Felicity popped back into view upside down. "Bye, Cory!"

"Bye, Fee!"

Courtney watched as Micah remained staring off screen and a door clicked shut. He let out a breath and raised the phone.

"Siblings," he said. "You know."

"Not really, I'm the Fee in the lineup."

"Consider yourself lucky."

"I do. I get to be the tormentor instead of the tormentee."

Micah laughed. If Courtney was going to rate laughs, he had an exceptionally wonderful one.

"Hey, Sunshine?"

Courtney lifted her head as her father nudged open her half-open door and peeked his head in. When he saw her phone before her, he paused.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked.

Courtney turned her phone and Micah waved.

"Your new best friend," Courtney said.

Grinning, her father strode in and bent down to the phone. "Hey, Micah."

Look at that. My dad using Micah's name. This is a true accomplishment.

"Hi, Mr. Hart."

"Thanks for filling out the survey packet. Your answers were very useful."

"No problem."

"I was going to talk to Courtney but I don't want to be an interrupting father." He waved at Micah and kissed the top of Courtney's head. "Sweet dreams, Sunshine."

"Night, dad."

When he closed the door, Courtney looked back at the screen.

"Seems we keep getting interrupted."

"Seems so."

Courtney started to announce that without a sister and a father in their way they could simply talk when a voice broke in.

"Micah, I think I'm having an existential crisis."

Courtney raised her eyebrows. Not the statement one usually hears announced.

"Is that Isiah?" she asked.

"Yeah, he has this once every couple of months. He thinks too much."

"Micah!"

Micah made a face and sighed. "I should go."

"Of course. Wouldn't want Isiah to deal with his existential crisis alone."

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I'm happy you called. It's nice to know I'm still needed by my Idiot Adventurer."

Micah stared intently. "I'll always need you. You're my Wise Ole Sage."

**********************************************************************

Teetering trees!

*turns to the wall and proceeds to bang forehead against it*

I don't know even anymore! Like is this progress or is this a delusional that is so beautiful I want to always live in it and never come out?

Is my heart even safe anymore from the torment of these ups and downs? *dramatically places hand on forehead* (Which of course means I stopped banging it on the wall, obviously) Woe is me! And curse the author who has stolen my hope and toyed with it!

If you share similar sentiments feel free to share them. If they aren't as eloquent as mine, stress not, despair and heartache make me poetic. 🗯💭💬💔

*Sighs while still sitting in the hull of a ship filled with water and dealing with a finger cramp from sticking it into a hole, also aware that my pants are soaked and it's an uncomfortable feeling*

I feel it's time to take stock of the situation. Aiden has proven himself to be better than we expected. Max seems like she might move on from Blake. Micah is ~~~~. And Cory is IY%M&%$MER%# as well. Where do we stand?

Corah is still sailing and will sail.

Corah is drowned and Corden will sail away.

I'm on a freaking dock out in the ocean because I know Joy.

I'm on a beach because I've found inner peace by never trusting Joy and accepting what comes my way.

To the last, can I have some of that inner peace because right now my innards are in pieces.

Big sigh. Oh if only life weren't so uncertain and unpredictable. It would be a lot more boring but let's face it, our sanity would be intact. Well, yours. We already know the state of mine. It's definitely in Ohio. And I'm in Massachusetts so you can imagine how bad that is.

ఓటు, వ్యాఖ్య, అనుసరించండి (Telugu) One of my favorite written languages because it's so pretty!