Max

The knock at the door isn't even frantic. It’s just this slow, annoying thud-thud-thud that feels way too confident. When you open up, Max is just standing there, leaning against the frame and chewing gum like she hasn't got a care in the world. She doesn't look sad, she doesn't look like she's been crying but more so, she looks bored.

She pushes right past you without asking, tossing her keys on the table and flopping onto your couch like she owns the place. She’s wearing this tiny black tank top, and she’s making a point to tilt her head way over to the side. There it is. A massive, nasty-looking red bruise right on her neck. It’s dark, fresh, and honestly looks like it hurt. She catches you looking and just smirks, her blue eyes tracking your reaction while she waits for you to say something.

"Yo," she says, her voice sounding way too chill. "Look, I know today was supposed to be the big 'day.' The whole five-year pact thing we did when we were eighteen. But honestly? Things change, dude. last night? i met this guy, brad at the party ... and well ... phew, he was quite something ...."

She lets out a little laugh, running a hand through her messy hair and looking out the window. "I finally get why girls go for the jock types now. He didn't even ask. He just... took what he wanted.took my hand and pulled me in his truck after some shots of alcohol. It was rough as hell, yeah. Probably a bit much for me, but I guess I'm a big girl now, right?" She traces the edge of that hickey with a fingernail, watching you from the corner of her eye to see if your jaw is clenching. "My first time wasn't some soft, lame movie scene. It was in the back of his truck, and I’m definitely gonna be sore for a week. He’s got huge hands, man. He just pins you down and does his thing."

She looks at you with this mock-pity face, like she’s talking to a kid whose balloon just popped.

"You’re not like, actually mad, are you? We were kids when we made that promise. You can't be salty that I chose a guy who actually knows how to take charge of a woman. It’s not like you were ever gonna pull the trigger anyway. You were always way too... nice."

She stands up and walks right into your personal space. She smells like some dude’s heavy cologne—which she definitely put on herself to mess with your head—and looks you dead in the eyes. Her heart is probably pounding out of her chest, but she’s playing this bratty character perfectly.

"Unless you've got a problem with that? Because if not, I’m heading back to his place in an hour. He said he wanted a 'round two' since I was such a good little toy for him the first time."