Let's Ignore What Should Be Forgotten

Not everyone is as lucky as I am. I spent my secondary school years in a mansion, having food to eat and a bed to sleep on.

Having millions of views on a video where you're in the thumbnail? It feels like I stepped on a four leaf clover somewhere and its been stuck to my shoe ever since.

"Are you Maxine? My name's Dylan, nice to meet you."

"... it's Max."

I can still remember how quiet my voice was, scared to be ridiculed as a ten year old for my choice of presentation.

Identity was never my strong suit. Staying in one place wasn't either- because of that my hair was always grown out, so people thought I was a girl. But boys' clothes were cheaper… mix the two and you get a tomboy.

"So do you prefer gossipping with the girls or playing basketball with us, Maxine?"

Gender stereotypes are overrated, and I'm not saying that because I'm bad at sports. It felt like I had to prove myself for some reason, which ended in bruises and scratches.

"You don't have to play with us if it's not fun for you…"

That feeling when you're out of lives on the last level of a video game… that's how I felt. I kept to myself after, defeated and confused.

"Do you like ice cream, Max?"

"I'm okay-"

"It's a yes or no question."

"...Yes."

I'm still sure pity was the reason Dylan snuck me an ice cream sandwich that day, but I didn't care.

"Do you want a sticker?"

"But I didn't do good on the test…"

"I'm offering them because they're in my possession, not because of anything you did."

"I want more than one sticker, then."

"Hmm, so that's how it is- those negotiation skills are quite unparalleled, I think I'll give you a handful."

The details of the legal process are difficult to remember. Yet, the smile on Dylan's face when we went out for ice cream, as brothers… it remains in my memories.

Mr. Sullivan wasn't around often, though. He went on many trips, and Dylan was the one who remembered my favorite food, supported my interest in singing, and paid for my haircut.

"Am I really that bad at karaoke? I sort of took some creative liberties near the end."

"Hahaha, yeah! You're really funny, dad-"

"What?"

Dylan paused for a moment, and I realized my mistake. I do think I overreacted just a bit, though. To little me, the guy was a fun adult, but nonetheless all adults were a little scary to me.

"I'm sorry… I'm really sorry-"

"You don't need to apologize, Max."

I thought he'd tell me not to cry as well, but he let me do that. Still unsure how long it had been since I was allowed to feel something of anything.

"Shhh, I'll be your dad. Would you like that?"

"...Please."

When I got older I went back to calling him Dylan, but he'll always be my dad. He's the only parent I have.

Of course, if you don't bury something at the center of the earth, it still might find its way back up.

"This is the most confusing letter I've ever read. How is the manager of your group coincidentally your mom?"

Dylan hands the paper back to me, and I stare at the bubbly handwriting. I don't understand if Clarissa is trying to promote something or not, but I feel a twinge of longing.

"Do you think… my real mom will ever contact me?"

"It's hard to be sure about things like that, but I think you're just as strong and capable without her."

"You're right, maybe this is a social media trend I haven't heard of yet."

The money she offers perplexes me even more. I refuse, thinking back to when she called me Maxine…

"It's making me kinda uncomfortable, Clarissa."

I stare at her soft pink hair as she leaves. If we were really related, she must've had to bleach her hair so many times to get that color. But maybe it's just a crush?

"Wait-"

"Huh?"

Her hand touches mine as she places a handkerchief in my hand. It's soft, and white… but I'm confused. Are my allergies acting up?

"I think Jeremiah left it in the practice room, can you give it to him?"

The embroidered name on the back catches my eye, and my "oh" turns into an "ugh" real fast.

Of course someone happens to take a photo of us at that moment, and it looks like my blushing face tells a different story.

People are really going to get the wrong idea… I know I am! How can our manager stay so composed when she's the one that has a crush on me?!

Jeremiah's dad stops by the building and he offers to take us all out to an Italian restaurant. I sit by Luke, and the son of such a nice man sits far away from me. Whatever. I hear Zachary speak up across from me.

"Performing on a live stage was pretty cool, don't you think?"

"Obviously! I've already seen fan edits of me on the internet, it's clear I'm the sexy of the group."

Jeremiah is so damn cocky. But he's not wrong, people actually describe him that way. I'm just the mysterious one, or the emo one. The latter definitely irritates me.

Asher's somehow gotten into the habit of calling everyone "big bro", and Gabriel has eaten enough food for half of us, yet he's still so fit. Elias ordered the spaghetti and meatballs, though he eats all of the noodles before the meat-

"You're thinking so hard there's a bulge in your forehead."

"What?"

Great, everyone's staring at me. Nothing is wrong with my forehead!

"Well, mine's not as large as yours."

I expect Jeremiah to have to clap back at me, but all I see is an irritating smile. Luke pats my back hard, and it almost arches. That's actually

so embarrassing.

"Who knew Max could be a little devious, guys? I think we're the only ones that can see this true side of him!"

He's actually… right about that. Maybe it's because our dorms are close to each other and we're interacting almost every day, but I feel like I can relax around these guys. They're pretty chill.

"How would you like to see the side of my fist, Luke? You need to control your strength!"

We actually start to laugh and talk some more, Jeremiah's playful banter making me accidentally flash a smile at him.

Why do we dislike each other again?

Leaving the restaurant, Gabriel whispers in my ear.

"Yo, isn't that your dad?"

My head flips itself around, and my pit drops in my stomach… Clarissa?! With Dylan?! They went on a date to a seafood restaurant?! Dylan is literally allergic!

"Give me your hand, Gabe. I can't watch this."

He shields my vision from the horrifying sight, and we're dropped back off at Kassel.

Maybe I should sleep it off, but Asher proposes a fun idea.