Page 20 of WASP

Max grinned but didn’t say anything as she moved the car into reverse, backing out of her spot.

“Stop it,” Annie whined playfully, knowing exactly why Max was smiling. “I owned the privileged part of your assessment.”

“You did own it. I’m willing to give credit where credit is due.”

The remainder of the car ride passed comfortably, much more comfortably than Annie anticipated. But then again, nothing surrounding Max had been what she had expected.

Admittedly, Annie’s first impression of Max that day on the golf course was that she was kind of a jerk. But every time their paths had crossed in the last few weeks, that initial picture had grown fuzzier, leaving Annie back at square one, trying to understand who exactly Max Martin was.

Twenty minutes later, Max guided the car into the driveway of her parents’ house, but Annie didn’t quite feel ready to leave the comfort of the vehicle. Not counting the awkward wine tasting with her friends, today had been one of the best days Annie had had in a long time.

“Thanks again for the ride home. I really could have driven myself.”

“I disagree.”

Annie rolled her eyes, a bold idea popping into her head.

“Here, give me your phone.” She held out her hand, Max looking at her with a puzzled expression before reaching into the back pocket of her jeans, unlocking the device, and handing it over. Annie sent a text message to herself, ensuring that she now had Max’s number and Max had hers. “Since we keep running into each other, maybe we could do it on purpose for once?” Her voice softened with vulnerability. “I really enjoyed hanging out with you this afternoon. Today was the first day in a really long time where I felt like myself again,” she said slowly, almost embarrassed by the small cracks in her voice.

Max tilted her head. “See. I told you it gets easier. Every day that passes, it gets easier and easier to feel like a normal person again and forget that bitch ever existed. And I say bitch in a mean way, because like I told you, I’m automatically on your side of the breakup.”

Annie grinned sheepishly, hands twisting in her lap, turning in her seat to look at Max. “That’s brave of you. For all you know, I could be a raging asshole who deserved everything she got.”

“I doubt that,” Max said simply with a sweet smile. “I think there’s more to you than meets the eye, Annie Dillinger.”

A long moment passed between them, one where Annie contemplated an appropriate way to respond to Max’s statement that didn’t make her sound like a bumbling idiot. Instead, she landed on an awkward goodbye via the unfortunate combination of a half-bye, half-grunt as she hoisted herself out of the passenger seat.

“Thanks again for the ride,” she said, gently closing the door and making her way up the front steps towards the large glass-paneled front door, turning to wave at Max as she backed out of the driveway.

Annie hadn’t even made it three steps inside the door before her mom was in the foyer with her.

“Where have you been all day?” her mom asked, hands on her hips, looking flustered.

“Out with friends. Remember? I told you Leah texted me about getting together with the girls from high school?”

She moved past her mom and down the hall into the kitchen, beelining for the cabinet where her parents kept the glasses. She pulled one down, filled it with ice, then with water, and took a long sip of the refreshingly cool liquid.

“I know that, but I thought you would have been home an hour ago.”

“I stayed to have another drink and hang out and talk to Max. What’s the big deal?” Annie asked, rubbing at her temple. She was starting to feel the effects of the number of glasses of wine she had consumed today. “Where do you keep ibuprofen these days?”

Her mother glared at her, stepping around her and opening the cabinet above the fridge where the first-aid kit was kept, including one bottle of ibuprofen, which Annie accepted graciously.

“The big deal is that your father and I could have had plans, but we didn’t know what yours were, so we didn’t make any tonight.” Her mom crossed her arms defiantly, as if that settled any debate.

“Wait. Are you upset that you don’t have plans? You chose not to make them because you didn’t know what time I would be home. Why are you factoring me into your plans?” she asked, confused.

“Colleen, you can’t hold it against her for having fun with her friends.” Her dad’s voice drifted to them from the armchair in the living room where he sat flipping through the most recent National Geographic magazine—one of the many print subscriptions her father refused to let go of.

“I’m not mad,” her mother huffed, “I just think it would be nice that if you’re going to be living here, you communicate your various comings and goings with us.”

“Comings and goings?” Annie asked. “I barely go anywhere. I just started feeling like myself again. Sorry I wanted to get out of the house and have a little fun.” Her voice rose along with her defensiveness. Was her mom being serious right now?

“Don’t act childish, Annie,” her mother snapped.

“Colleen,” her dad said again, still not bothering to look up from his magazine.

Words flew out of Annie’s mouth, dripping with her exasperation. “I’m not acting childish. I’m a grown-ass adult. I have a 401 (k). I don’t need to report to my mother where I’m going to be at all times.”