Whatever Happened to Maxwell, Charlie?

The third time I saw Max, I heard his laugh for the first time; it came floating through the air until it pounded in my temples and made a breeze flutter through my eyelashes. All of us girls would sit side-by-side on the bleachers. We made a point to share an entire jar of peanut butter and a sleeve of crackers. We would just pass the peanut butter jar from one to the next down the line, absentmindedly. All of the girls were fused to the bleachers, silent, staring, while I would sit there and write. They all had this look on their faces of mischievous intrigue, except Jane, as her boredom was beginning to escalate.

           "There they go, running in a circle again, yay," Jane barely emoted from her sneering lips, “Goin’ round and round.” She made a circle with her fingers. "Big deal."

           "Yeah," Laura mused under her breath staring straight ahead unmoved, "super…lame," she attempted to mimic Jane’s bored tone but was unconvincing.

           I looked up and turned my head to look at Laura and tried not to laugh at her with my mouth full of crackers. Laura’s body made a sharp twist, "Joanie, quit bogartin’ the peanut butter," she growled with hunger as she grasped the jar out of my hand.

           "Sorry." I faced forward again, squinting, trying to see where she was looking. Then, once again, Max was running out ahead and caught my eye. Just then, the sky opened up and it started to rain. The girls squealed and ran inside. I didn’t stir; I just sat on my notebook, put my hood up and put my hands in my pockets.

           The fourth time I saw Max, was one of those rainy days. The team would keep running until it became too rainy to see, then they would move from outside into the quad. The girls would run out ahead of them, but I would follow behind. Jane thought I was nuts for staying behind and she sometimes would run from me to escape the rain, but still shouting my name with a frustrated groan. “Joanie! Joanie!”

Even on what we all thought would be the clearest day, it had started to rain. The guys and girls had all rushed inside and when I finally arrived as well, I got an intense whiff of fresh rain mixed with sweat. I watched them all as they instinctively paired off, flirting, sharing towels, shameless. I looked for Max, but he was nowhere to be found.

           The fifth time I saw Max, was the day after Jane gave me his phone number. That day Jane said she was too tired to run, so I went by myself. None of the other girls showed either. Embarrassed, I just sat on the bleachers by myself. My eyes circled the track and I noticed none of the other guys showed. A lightning bolt of realization struck me and split me open: it was just me and Max. I saw Max’s steely eyes flash to the sideline and lock on mine as he ran by. He was at once a blur and then when he looped around again was still. Up close, he looked so familiar to me.

           Who was this blonde know-it-all running over to me? This can’t be Max. Who is it exactly, and why does he look like someone I’ve met before? No, it’s Max, it’s Max. Of course, it is. Oh, look at him that sure is Max. And he is running over to me, though, why? Why am I overthinking this? Not since Charlie had anyone mystified me so much.

           "Hey, you're Joanie, right?" He pulled his eyes from mine and they traveled about my face as he was still gasping, out of breath.

           "Mmhmm, that's me…Joanie." I nodded and swallowed all of my thoughts, trying to forget them.

           "Yeah, Jane told me about you." His smile was warm, but it startled me.

           "She did," I sputtered this, uncertain. Jane talking about me wasn’t always a good thing.

           "Yeah, she said you guys have known each other a long time, err something, I don’t know sometimes when she talks, my ears close."

           "Oh,” I sighed, relieved, “Yeah, well… yeah. A long time.” I acknowledged this as I looked away from him, finding it disquieting to be held in his gaze. “Too long.”

           "Cool." He smirked and held back a laugh.

           "Max, right?" My eyes were pulled into his again.

           "Right," a nervous chuckle replaced his heavy breathing.

           "She gave me your number, Max." I shrugged as if I needed to apologize but that it was Jane’s fault. He was silent, and still seemed to be studying my face. I blushed and wondered what more there was to see. “Is that okay?” I gushed with a laugh, filling the silence.

           "Oh yeah, she told me," he reassured, “You haven’t called yet, though.”

             I swallowed air like I was choking, “Well, I could give you mine err-"

           "-Just call me soon, Jo-we'll talk."

           Max looked at me in that moment as if he realized who I was, and, briefly, had an unnerved expression. He caught himself with a judicious smile and ran back to the track. I was left standing there, in shock.

           “Well, well.” Gabby taps her pencil on her pad and then to her lips. 

           “Yes” My eyelashes flutter as Gabby brings me back, and I ruminate with a groan as the gray walls come back into view, “Well, well.” 

           “Did you realize at the time,” she breathed out her curious thoughts.

           “I know, everyone wonders how I didn’t know who he was. He looked different, and I mostly saw him from afar," I laugh at the thought. "And Charlie had been on my mind, always, but I hoped that Max would help me forget.”

           “Did he?”

            “He would try.”

           “Did you form a friendship then?”

            “…With Max?” I smile. “Of course.”

           “But I mean to say, was friendship on your mind, in that moment?” She looks puzzled. I look at her puzzled and say nothing. “Was he a bit of a letdown to you,” she urges.

           I shrug. “Sometimes, maybe.” I nod then pause, thinking, “No.” The word is as delicate as lace and I feel it twist around my heart.

            “Phew,” Gabby sighs as she continues to write, “Interesting.” 

           “It was what it was.” I sink backwards again into the couch and begin to drift. “I thought: ‘anything to bring us closer.’”

           “Yes, what an odd pickle you faced.” Gabby blinks at me, as the word pickle hits my brain. She says it so innocently, with her gentle British lilt, I fear she is mocking me, and the entire story. And why not? It was a silly, childish flirtation that happened eons ago, sure. But a pickle? I squirm uncomfortably.

           “A pickle?” I pretend to startle out of my dream and laugh, “That’s putting it lightly.” 

           “Oh, Joanna, I apologize,” Gabby sighs and eyes me as she lifts her pad again to write on it. “Do go on."

The first time I called Max, my fingers were trembling. It was that afternoon, just after track practice, when I knew he would be home. There was something about that exchange that altered my image of him. He seemed like he was getting himself together now that he was literally running with the elite. He wasn’t bored, pitiful, or lost. He intrigued me, but in a way that made me excited to get to know him. Still, I had this lingering feeling that I was forgetting something, or someone.

           I sat, my knees bent, all curled up in the spare room on the sunken-in white couch and stared at the elevated phone buttons. "I'm going to use the phone for a minute!" I shouted to no one. We had one phone line. We didn’t even have call-waiting yet. I didn't want to be interrupted as I so often was. I, again, stared at the buttons. I thought about whether or not it would behoove me to memorize his number. I could throw away the incriminating piece of paper with Jane's loopy handwriting on it. I ran my fingers over the buttons once more tracing from one number to the next making invisible circles, so many circles. 4368899.

           “Easy enough,” I took a deep breath and dialed, “Right?” The phone rang once and then a click.

           "Hellooooo?" a chipper voice answered, "This is Brenda, with whom am I speaking?"

           "This is, uh, Joanie, from school, I was calling for Max-"

           "-Oh," Brenda supposes, "You were calling for Max?"

           "Yeah, he's friends with a friend of mine, is he home?” I paused, panicking, “If not I can call back later-" Friends with a friend of mine, god.

           "-Oh no, no!” she retorted reassuring me, “Don't be in such a hurry to go, I'm sure Max would love to hear from a friend…of a friend at school." Pfft. "Max, are you at home?" Another pause, "Oh, hold on dear, here he comes."

           "Is this Joanie," the insistence of his voice startled me.

           "Yes," I breathed through my words as if I had been the one running, "Hi, Max?"

           "I'll take this upstairs!"

           "Max?"

           "Just a sec-" his words bit. After a long pause and a click, a familiar sound whispered through the phone. One I hadn't heard in a year and a half. "Joanna, this is Charlie," his whisper sounded like the breeze over the bay.

           "What?" I felt my heart shake and rattle like it was hollow.

           "It's me, Charlie, well for now," he continued to whisper, like he was abducted and frightened.

           "What? Charlie?" I gasped a laugh, "Max, what are you talking about?" My eyes blurred and my head swam. I kept telling myself it would all make sense soon, and then I felt a brick sink deep into my stomach. I waited for laughter, but it didn't come, "Is this a sick… joke… look, did Jane put you up to this, because she never knew him, I knew him, and it's just uncool to do this to somebody!" My voice started to crack, “I’m hanging up, now!"

           "Wesley, it's me!" he insisted, almost hurt, “Please, don’t go!”

           Shocked, I twisted the phone cord around my finger. I didn’t know what to say, and then all of those little moments of things he did, and said, came flooding back.

           "I knew it, I mean, I knew it-"

           "-You did," he gasped, gutted.

           "Yes. Of course, well, no, of course I didn’t!”

           He laughed, “What?”

           “I mean, I wasn't sure. I mean, I just assumed I was going crazy," I sighed and gnawed on my pointer fingernail.

           "Well, the therapists say that's what I am,” he laughed to himself, "Well, they don't say it but it's written down in the books-"

           "-Charlie!" I couldn't help but giggle his name, as I'd done so many times before. Still, the girlish way I did it, embarrassed me, "You're not supposed to look at those-"

           "-I know, it's Max who looks." He grunted this as if he disapproved. I paused again, for a moment, in final realization that I was once again talking to Charlie. I, then, paused in realization of the mess I was in.

           “Hmm,” Gabby stabs the air with her interruption, and I open my eyes again. “I wonder why Charlie was so eager to tell you?”

           I sit up, still struggling a bit to shake the fog. “I just thought we were the best of friends and always would be. I felt that way since the day we met.”

           “Tell me about that day, Joanna.” Gabby sits back in her chair and I settle into the couch again.