Max

Max began putting her guitar away, grabbing the little cash she'd made that day. She had this odd feeling that someone was too close to her, but she was too tired to bother looking. After all, the subway was one of the busiest places in New York. It wouldn't be strange to have people lurking.

Nearby, Max saw a man and his girlfriend waiting for their train. The man grabbed his girlfriend jokingly, and she screamed with a smile on her face. Max immediately began to shake and close her eyes tight. She clenched her fists, digging her dirty fingernails into the palm of her hand.

The scabs were always there and as hard as Max tried not to break them apart, once again she began to bleed. Her thoughts were racing through pictures in her mind, stuck there for some infuriating reason that she couldn't control.

She remembered a motel room. Dust blew around it and there was nothing for miles, as if it were dropped there to rot. His dark brown eyes were excited, his black hair falling in his face as he grabbed one of the women trying to escape the room. The woman screamed while he looked back at Max with a smile, proud that he could win a two-against-one battle, and she reluctantly smiled back. The next few hours were fuzzy, she could hear the pounding from the back of the car, see the blood dripping down from his caramel skin . . .

"Violet?"

Max heard a woman's voice that made her heart nearly stop.

"Violet Redding?"

Max jerked her head up quickly, but refused to turn around.

A few seconds passed before Max harshly said, "That is NOT my name."

Out of the corner of her eye, Max could see this woman reaching for her shoulder. She had barely touched her when Max shrunk down, afraid to even be looked at. Max clicked the locks to her guitar case, put both of her hands on top of it, sighed, and slowly stood up. Max's eyes shot wide open when she turned around. She immediately recognized the stranger. Seven years had gone by, but there was no mistaking her. It was Anna. Beautiful red hair, a few inches taller than her, with light blue eyes. Max pursed her lips, holding back tears because she didn't want Anna to know it was her. She had tried her best to remain a missing person all of these years, and Anna could shatter all of it. Max rigidly stood there, embarrassed — she was barely five foot three and her hair was as black as the night. She was thin, slightly too thin, and knew her body was in desperate need of some pampering. Max's green eyes watched Anna meticulously observe her, but she swiftly moved her hands out of sight when Max noticed Anna staring at them, lightly bleeding. Anna looked on the verge of asking questions, causing jolts of anxiety to hurdle through Max's body.

How? Max repeated over and over in her now pounding head.

Her eyes met Anna's focused gaze. To her dismay, Anna was looking at her as if she already knew her.

"You are . . . you are Violet," she said as Max raised her eyebrows and tried to calmly reply, "You have me confused wi—"

"No, I do not," Anna brazenly interrupted. "Prove it to me, and I'll leave you alone. Because there's no way that I'm leaving right now. It's you and I know it."

Max looked at her dumbfounded. "Okay, whoever you are, I'm not sure if you do this regularly, but I'm not who you're looking for. My name is Max, I live in a shitty building in Brooklyn, and I come here to do this every day," she said, pointing to her guitar case. "Whoever your person is, I'm sorry to say, she's long gone."

Max watched Anna smirk and reply, "And how would you know that, Violet?"

She looked at Anna, now pissed off. "My name is Max, I'll repeat it until you get it, and just from hearing you speak about this Violet chick, that's how."

Max tried to remain steady but felt her expression change, and Anna's reaction told her it had.

"Look, MAX, I'm not leaving here until you tell me the truth. And if you are my friend Violet, which you ARE, you know I'm not going to lose this fight."

Max looked her dead in the face with a fiery disdain, but Anna didn't flinch.

"Great! Don't go! I will. Bye-bye, weird girl in the subway!" Max raised her voice as she rolled her eyes and turned around.

She picked up her old, dirty guitar case and took a few steps before stopping. Max turned her head slightly, realizing that Anna was a few steps behind her, smiling like an obnoxious child.

"Are you following me?" said Max.

"Sure am, Violet!"

The two looked at each other for a few seconds.

Max sighed. "Okay . . . well, don't."

"Okay!" Anna chirped.

The moment was continuously getting more awkward, so Max once again turned around and walked toward her train. Walking for a bit longer this time, Max decided not to turn around again. Of course, Anna wouldn't just follow her home.

Max chuckled and whispered, "Gotta love New York, right?"

She approached the stop where she waited for her train every day. As always, Max felt happy to be going home, happy to be alone again.

Her pleasant thoughts of isolation were washed away, however, when she looked to her right and noticed Anna right next to her.

Max looked at her in disbelief. "What is wrong with you?" she asked. "I mean truly, what is wrong with you, lady?"

Anna smiled with diabolical eyes. "Look, Violet. I know it's you," she said in an almost whiney voice. "The sooner you give it up, the sooner you'll get rid of me."

"Why do I highly doubt that?" Max said sarcastically.

"See! You still remember how much of a pain in the ass I am! Some things never change, Redding. Including your eyes, hair, face, and SINGING voice. That's right. I remember."

She sensed that a deep-seated pain had spilled into Anna's body, so Max took deep breaths to stay calm, reminding herself to not show any emotion. A long time ago, she had learned to have a constant poker face — it was the best way to go unnoticed. The girls stared at each other until the train breezed past them suddenly, blowing their hair to the side.

"Look, Max," Anna said loudly over the subway train, "I'm just going to have to come with you until I find what I'm looking for. I don't know if it'll be answers, closure, I have no idea. But I'm getting on this train with you. That's final. I'm sorry, but it's final."

Max felt an obvious discomfort, but continued to silently stare. She let a breath out that she'd been holding for too long and softly said, "Fine. Whatever." Max could keep up this charade for as long as she needed to and get Anna out of her life.

Anna smiled and jumped up and down like a bouncy ball, while Max stood there disgusted by her peppy attitude.

"Super," Max said to herself. "I'm bringing a cheerleader home." Anna, clearly ignoring her remark, hopped excitedly onto the train before Max. Max took a moment and also jumped in, mocking her until she sat down and shut her eyes.

"You know, lady, I still don't know YOUR name," Max lied.

"Oh!" Anna exclaimed. "That's because you already know it, but sure, I'll play along! I'm Anna, Anna Johnston."

Max squeezed her eyes shut and put pressure once again on the already bloody palms of her hands.

"Anna," she said, sounding strangely relieved. "It's nice to meet you."