Max meandered through the following week in a mindless, emotionless, zombie-like state. He hadn't spoken to Nina since their heated discussion from days ago. They texted on and off through the day and texted each other ILY's every night, which filled the void in his chest by a tiny fraction, but the fact that the two of them had stopped FaceTiming altogether left him feeling painfully disconnected from his best friend.

They weren't broken up, but, somehow, it still hurt like hell.

Nina kept asking him to give her space. Max didn't fully understand why she needed so much space. His girl was already living over a thousand miles away in Seattle.

How much more fucking space did she need?

Max did as she asked, though. He didn't push for more. He didn't argue. But Max definitely struggled not to lose his shit every time he felt her pulling away from him.

As the days dragged on, Max remembered to eat, to shower, to sleep, but—beyond what was absolutely necessary for survival—he simply didn't have the motivation to do anything else.

He lagged behind on the update schedule for his channel.

He stopped hanging out with Chase and the guys.

He even skipped his weekly visit to his mom's house.

Perhaps, the only silver lining to his Nina-less stupor was that the stupid drama from the Moondreams photos hardly phased him anymore.

Lexi called a few times to check in on him. During their last conversation, she asked about Nina, and Max almost burst into tears. Afterward, Lexi didn't call him again.

On Friday, he was curled up on the couch in a depressed lump of sadness. Max was shirtless and wearing three-day-old sweatpants when he heard a loud, obnoxious banging at the door.

An all too familiar female voice shouted at him, "Open up, mijo!"

With a groan, Max shuffled over to open the door. It was his mom. He frowned at her in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

His mom brushed past him as though she owned the place. "Am I not allowed to visit my own son?"

Max watched her with bewilderment all over his face. His mom never came to his apartment. She hated the drive from Temecula to Santa Monica.

She gave him a quick once over and clucked in disapproval, "You look like a homeless man! No wonder tu novia wants nothing to do with you!"

Max continued to gape at her.

What the heck was going on right now?

And, more importantly, how did his mom figure out that Nina was his girlfriend?

Max had only mentioned Nina to his mom once or twice in passing—well, maybe a few more times than that—whenever they got together. Although, now that he thought about it, his mom always made a point to ask about his friend Nina with a mysterious, little smile on her face.

Before Max could even wrap his head around what was going on, however, his mom started shoving him towards an oversized pile of dirty laundry and waved her hands dramatically at the stacks of dirty dishes in the sink.

"¡Necesitas limpiar este desastre!"

You need to clean up this mess!

Max groaned in annoyance. "Seriously, mamá? Did you come all this way to make me clean? I'm not a kid anymore!"

His mom arched an eyebrow. "Your apartment is filthy! Are you planning to make tu novia clean it for you?"

"It doesn't matter if my apartment is filthy. She's not coming back for my birthday," he grumbled.

His mom grinned triumphantly. "¡Ajá! I knew it, Nina is your girlfriend, after all!"

Max blinked. "Wait, what?"

"You didn't correct me when I called her tu novia."

"Shit."

His mom smirked. "How long has this been going on?"

Max's eyes grew wide as soon as he realized that his mom had cornered him good.

"Not long. We just started dating in November," he answered begrudgingly.

She clicked her tongue. "Why isn't she coming back for your birthday?"

Max shrugged. "The girl says she needs her space."

His mom didn't miss a beat. "I'm not surprised. I wouldn't come back for you in your sorry state, either. Now, let's get to work!"

Max scowled. "Wow! Mom of the year right here, ladies and gents."

With lightning-fast reflexes, his mom reached over to smack him upside the head. Max yelped, "Ouch!"

"Serves you right, mijo," she grunted. "Now... are you ready to clean? Or do I need to remind you who's in charge again?"

Max rubbed his aching head and muttered, "Fine, whatever. If you wanna clean, then let's clean."

Max and his mom spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning and tidying up his apartment. Max vacuumed. His mom helped him with laundry. He wiped down the kitchen counters. She cleaned out his fridge. For hours, they barely spoke a word to each other, but these simple domestic tasks and his mom's presence had a strangely calming effect on Max.

For dinner, his mom cooked up some chicken quesadillas, and they ate in companionable silence. As his mom got ready to head home, she turned to Max and patted his shoulder comfortingly. In heartfelt tones, she advised, "A girl like Nina needs a man, mijo, not a boy. Show her that you can be strong when she is weak, and she'll never leave your side."