max mayfield is 7 years old, like kelly green and annie johnson, who are her best friends. she isn’t their’s, she knows this. like she knows kelly will live in a mansion, become a princess and drive a lamborghini with her twelve kids and husband, tom simon, her seat partner. kelly’s happy, obviously, she cheated, she always cheats at m.a.s.h, but max is happy for kelly anyway, she tells her. max is marrying annie’s dad, the other girls gag at the idea, she makes a joke about marrying rich “like grandma said my mom should’ve!” max laughs too loud, no response from the girls. “i’m glad she didn’t though cuz i love my dad…” she specifies. this embarrassment doesn’t stop her from squealing at her own barf joke later on, she repeats it in case kelly and ann didn’t hear. “she’s so annoying, do we have to keep hanging out with her? your guy’s moms aren’t even friends anymore.” kelly pleads after recess, max knows they know she can hear them.

max mayfield is 9 years old, she and billy hargrove recently became siblings, legally at least, billy would not call them that, max doesn’t care. and not in the way that she’s feigning chillness to seem on top of things, but in the way that she knows if she plays her cards right she can prove herself as someone worth calling a sister. “that jacket makes you look like a dyke.” billy says, he and his friends pool into the backyard. a month ago she’d ask if she could play with them, but she’s smarter now, she’s no longer a pussy, she’s a dyke, its change, it’s progress, she can work with it. “yeah, even more than usual.” one of the friends adds, everybody laughs. max remains focused on tightening the bolts of her skateboard and uses her free hand to flip the boys off. mentally she prays this is what playful sibling fighting looks like and not an action that will get her deck ripped away from her and broken against the concrete. it’s fine, the boys mock and jeer but don’t say anything she hasn’t heard before. another friend asks if she rides her skateboard or just pretends to be it’s mom. this is in reference to the time she convinced herself the boys were interested in knowing her and earnestly spoke about the mechanics of her skateboard, being too passionate, speaking too much, smiling too wide. all things she has since learned the right amount of is none. “i don’t know.” she gets up. “do you have a life or are you such a dweeb the only time you feel the need to get off your ass is to annoy a little girl with real hobbies?” when she walks off she hears the other boys gang up on him, he’s the new fool, all the other boys were just guilty of the same thing, but whatever. she thinks maybe if she maintains this for a little longer they can return back to the sibling conversation. they don’t even have to call it that, they could just do the part where they’re nice to each other sometimes.

max mayfield is 11 years old. jenny chen is a teenager, fifteen, from san francisco, short black hair, dresses like she’s on the cover of thrasher, first girl max has ever seen at the skate park who isn’t just there to watch. max wants to be her friend so bad it makes her stomach turn. until it happens. “i never see other girls who skate! it’s so cool to meet you, i’m jenny!” max knows. she ignores jenny’s invitation to fist bump. “do you really skate? or are you just someone’s girlfriend?” max knows the answer to the question, but she also knows the ending to this story. jenny pulls her hand back like max hit it. “yeah i skate, but i’m sure the boys here wish.” her laugh is refreshing, max didn’t know that was a thing laughs could be, it was so cool and light and confident, like it reset something in her. max wonders how someone can be so cool without any hit of cruelty, when max tells jenny she has to do a trick to prove it she shrugs and agrees like it wasn’t something said with the intention of upsetting her. jenny does an ollie off on the half pipe and asks if she can see any of max’s tricks. it makes max more upset that there’s no malice in this request, the audacity to show genuine interest in her. max is usually too mean but to jenny she cannot be mean enough. and typically she cannot do an ollie off a half pipe. today is no different. she falls and wakes up in the hospital. billy hands her flowers, rolls his eyes, then goes to wait in the car. max’s mom lets jenny apologize. it’s a real genuine apology, even though she has nothing to be sorry for it still feels good and different. max tells jenny to leave and never sees her at the park again.

max mayfield is 13 years old, she wonders if the group of boys yelling over dig dug are too. her initial annoyance with their hogging of her favorite game has melted into an admiration.. that’s too bold, curiosity, maybe. there’s arguments every other minute but between those there’s “oh wait! oh shit! lucas you genius! you genius!” whoever’s praising “lucas” gets so excited his friend progressed in the game the other boys have to pull him away. when the little one says he can’t see, no one mocks his size, instead the group instinctively makes room for their friend. and they’re all being too loud, too passionate, definitely taking the game too seriously. max wonders what it would be like to have something like that. she wonders how long they have all been friends for. do you have one chance for something like their’s as a child and then never again? has she missed her opportunity? could she even exist in an environment like that or would her cruelness be so sharp it’d cut through any moments tenderness? if she just walked up and asked to join what they’d say? answers for another day. maybe never. probably never.

max mayfield is 15 years old and mike wheeler’s basement is her favorite place in the whole wide world. which is why it’s the ideal location for her birthday party. sure billy is dead and el and will are moving next week, but ignore that, because yes will and el are moving away which is sad because they’re two of her best friends, but they’re two of her best friends, and she’s there’s. el is sitting on the floor with max making stupid jokes and max is clutching a pillow to her stomach, laughing like she’s alone, too much, too loud, dustin joins in and is even worse, she loves it. lucas interrupts, nudging her back with his foot. “this is the part you like.” he mouths, big, stupid, earnest, adorable smile on his face, so proud to remember. she’s proud of him too, swooned might be the better word, if she’s being honest. she likes him so much she wants to shrink herself into something small and accessible for him, but the worst part is that isn’t even what he wants from her. as much as max is trained to see the worst in others, lucas is real and warm and never says anything he doesn’t mean and he says he likes her. “thanks.” is all she can get out, trying not unravel from the affection. her last straw is mike and will marching down the basement stairs singing happy birthday. she’s clenching her teeth, mentally “don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry”-ing. she’s crying. it didn’t work, she’s crying. they’re doing this nice thing and she’s going to ruin the moment because she’s crying, they’re the best friends she’s ever had and she’s crying, they’re the only friends she’s ever had and she’s crying and they’re hugging her and laughing and she’s laughing and oh god, it’s good, she’s crying because she’s loved.