Maze's hands didn't always look like this. Until recently, her hands had lived a normal life and she could safely say that her mind was a bit sharper than usual because of it. By the time she had recovered from the surgery that repaired both of her broken hands, university was already in session. This meant that taking notes during lectures was impossible, but she made do.

Now, even though she could write, she was too accustomed to the habits she formed while both of her arms were in casts.

Suffice to say that Maze's hands were, as the kids called it, thoroughly fucked up. Newcomers to the shitshow that was her life reacted in several predictable ways that Maze had come to accept as normal. It wasn't every day that the average Joe saw a pair of hands that looked like they had been wired shut with those dense, black paperclips that held together the fine details of her thesis.

The fine details of a thesis she just nearly passed.

She pinched the metal clip and slipped the stack of papers out. Her dejected sigh was more than an understatement. She was destined to fail her thesis course the second she first stepped foot in class. Her motivation was gone and out the window considering she still had a semester left that she had to forfeit.

Even if she passed this class, it wouldn't change the fact that she'd never graduate.

She stuffed the paperclip into her pocket and dumped the less-than-satisfactory grade into the bin outside of last lecture hall of that semester. She put a hand over her forehead to keep her brains from spilling out.

God, that really was the final straw, wasn't it? Her phone buzzed in her pocket against the paperclip. She let it go on for several long seconds until she was nearly numb to it. Earlier that semester, she might have just let it fade away without an answer, but she was starting to feel a little less distant.

She put her phone to her ear and said, "Hello," in a way that suggested that she would rather die.

"When were you going to tell me you're moving back home?"

Maze pressed her fingers along her brow in a weak attempt to massage the headache away. "Who told you?" she said, but she already knew the answer. 

She was aware that her ma had cut most contact with the McBryans, but their small town politics weren't exactly macrocosmic. Their microcosm spread rumors fast, and the second her ma would tell Declan's parents, it would make its way back around to Bryan's mother, Aunt Rae, in a matter of hours.

"I overheard the Declan's old man this morning," Bryan said. "Why didn't you tell me? What about that internship?"

The internship. Maze couldn't think about it without feeling sick to her stomach.

"I, uh, I decided not to do it," she said, throat tight. She put her hand on her hip and looked towards the ceiling. "Yeah, and my ma's gonna need help back at home and... Yeah, now's not really the time for it."

The half second of silence that followed nearly broke her. It was all she could do to keep from crying right there next to the garbage can containing her thesis paper.

"Okay. Well, it'll be nice to catch up. Been a while since we've hung out."

"Yeah," Maze said with a scoff. Her cheeks hurt the instant she smiled, and it must have been from disuse. "I think it'll be a good break. From everything."

"Do you need someone to pick you up from the station?"

"I was sort of just planning on waiting around in Whiting until my ma's available..." 

 "Fuck that. I'll pick you up. What time?" 

Maze's train was due to arrive in the early morning—so early, in fact, that when Maze stepped out of the Amtrak station, Bryan's headlines blinked from the opposite side of the lot through Michigan's early morning fog. The moisture in the air gathered on Maze's coat the moment she left the station doors behind.

The parking lot was pitched a deep blue that was cut only by tungsten lamps interspersed down the length of the train tracks. Bryan's BMW M5 was a sight for sore eyes, and one that Maze hadn't laid eyes on since winter. It was a stark red that appeared almost purple in the night until it passed under the streetlamp where Bryan pulled up next to Maze halfway through the lot.

Scorpion, Maze thought, and the name brought with it a swell of fondness to her hollow chest. When they were sixteen and obsessed with Mortal Kombat, Scorpion seemed like an ideal match for the fiery M5's paint job.

Maze pulled the passenger door open, leant in, and met eyes with her best friend.

"Get in and shut the door—it's cold as balls outside," Bryan said with a shudder.

Maze's lips split into a smile. She tossed her duffle into the backseat along with her backpack and dropped in. Once inside, she nodded her chin in the direction of Bryan's boxers.

"Why're you—" Maze started, but was interrupted by Bryan putting a hand up to silence her.

"Don't. Even mention it," Bryan sighed. Maze laughed despite herself. She couldn't remember the last time she did that out loud, but there she was, beside herself in the comfort of her best friend's car. She pushed both hands up into her hair and dropped back, sighing in relief. Since January, it felt like she'd been holding the hysteria at bay.

"God, this is good. I missed this," Maze said, running her hand along the window ledge, the other passing over the collection of cassettes in the center console divot. She tipped her head over to look at Bryan, who was mid-yawn.

"Missed you too, dude," Bryan said.

Maze rolled her eyes. "I never said I missed you," she said.

"Fine, then Indiana missed you, too, or whatever. Honestly can't be any better than New York."

As Bryan took hold of the gear lever, Maze's eyes drifted towards the industrial park past the passenger window as said, "You'd be surprised." It wasn't that Indiana had anything "special" in comparison, but it was far less claustrophobic.

They drove alongside the train tracks until navigating their way to the tree-lined highway along the underside of Lake Michigan. Just a few minutes into the drive, the horizon glowed just a bit brighter against Bryan's headlights, just enough to color the fog a cool pink.

When the temperature was only slightly more tolerable, Maze pressed the window control on the center console so she could feel the breeze on her face. Lake Michigan didn't smell much better than the New York sewers, but as they drew closer to familiar home territory, it was crisper, cleaner, and slightly more tolerable.

And then, Bryan put his blinker on ten miles out of their hometown.

Maze didn't think anything of it until the car started turning towards the lake.

"Whoa, hey, no—No surprises," Maze said, all while Bryan said, "It'll be fine, relax."

Maze shot a glare in his direction. "Haven't you learned not to tell me to relax?" she shot back with a dangerous (yet nervous) grin.

Bryan's soft smile was sweet, but to anyone who knew him personally, it was borderline diabolical. "I've learned that it's amusing—does that count?" he teased, sparing a glance at Maze.

The lake came into view and soon Bryan was pulling into the beach's occupied parking lot—an odd sight to see at 5:30 in the morning.

Not only that, but Maze recognized most of the vehicles. She didn't think too deeply on just how intently she searched them, or what car was missing. She groaned, hiding her face behind her scarred hands. End me now, she thought, but once upon a time she would have lived for this. Surprises lost their appeal around the same time her hands lost their symmetry.

When Bryan parked the car, he reached over to tug on Maze's wrist. Through her fingers, she could see the bonfire going on the beach and it was then that she decided to ignore reality and attempt climbing to the back of the car. Bryan grappled for her shoulders, pushing her back down with a stern, "Come on—everyone just wants to welcome you back."

"No. Nope! Get me out of here," Maze said, folding her arms so Bryan couldn't grab at her hands again.

When arguing with Maze did nothing, Maze put her chin up and looked in the opposite direction of where Bryan sighed and stared out at the spot of sunlight to the right of them. Bryan's Simon and Garfunkel cassette tape was still playing an upbeat trill of acoustics to the tune of, "Look around you—all you see are sympathetic eyes... Stroll around the grounds until you feel at home... And here's to you, Mrs. Robbinson—"

Bryan groaned under his breath and shut the car off before pushing open the driver's door. He stepped out in nothing but his hoodie and boxers and, just before shutting the door, he bent down to give Maze the stink-eye. Maze held up her middle finger (albeit awkwardly, since she had trouble raising it without her index finger following suit).

She heard the trunk pop shortly after Bryan's keys chimed outside. Maze looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting around the metal hoops on her ring finger and pinkie.

A disgusting, disgruntled, and unpleasant sensation seeped through her chest cavity like heartburn. She recognized it well enough to bite back a groan of annoyance. Guilt. There Bryan was, just trying to give her a warm welcome back to their hometown, and there Maze was, being an absolute sack of lard of a friend.

When Bryan passed by his window, now wearing sweatpants and carrying a flannel blanket, Maze swallowed her heart down from where it had risen to her throat. She'd be lying if she said her eyes weren't burning, or that they were glassy with tears. It didn't help that she could see her hometown and Chicago friends gathered about the bonfire at the asscrack of dawn. No one in their right mind would wake up at this time just for the hell of it.

They were here for her, that much was clear.

She brushed the sleeve of her jacket over her cheeks and sniffed. "God dammit," she swore, and shoved open the passenger door.

She hadn't even shut the door before the familiar voice of her friend Willa called out from the beach, yelling, "There she is!"

Yeah, on second thought, Maze thought, turning her back on the beach and making as if to hop right back into the car.

"Aw, come on!" Willa whined and soon, the girl was jogging across the beach while the others cheered Maze on.

Maze bit her bottom lip, gripping the top of the door. She faced Willa as the girl hopped the curb. Willa looked different every time Maze saw her, which wasn't often. She had seen most of her friends from the area back in January, and it was a bittersweet affair and uncomfortable for everyone involved. Still, Maze was lucid enough to admit that seeing Willa's good-natured smile was refreshing. But Willa always reminded Maze of the people she never reconnected with from high school. Willa was a social butterfly, an athlete, and a very excellent hugger.

Maze half-hid behind the open car door, but Willa skirted around it, saying, "Come on, you know you want to—C'mere, come on—" while Maze said, "No, that's quite alright—No, Willa—it's fine, really, you don't have to—Oh, okay, no we're hugging." Willa pressed her cheek to Maze's fluffy hair and gave her back a few firm pats. "There... That's more like it," she said, and Maze melted into the embrace. She hooked her arms around Willa and closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to over-analyze whether or not their friends were watching. Willa gave her a tight, strangling squeeze and shook her to and fro. "It's been so long, dude! How've you been? How was the semester?"

"It was fine," she said.

Willa pulled back, still holding Maze by the shoulders. Maze let her hands swing limply to her sides. Willa gave her one firm look before breaking into a bright smile, canines like a vampire. "That's good. God, it's good to see you. Bryan warned us and said you'd be a shy little bitch-baby but I didn't believe him. Let's head over, eh?"

Willa slapped her on the shoulder and started off, shutting the car door for Maze. Maze hesitated to follow, targeting Bryan from across the sand. Bryan raised a glass to her like the smug rat he was, and Maze sneered a little, laughing under her breath. Willa reintroduced her to the group with a flourish, sweeping her hands like she was Will Smith on the red carpet. The group clapped as Maze waved to them dismissively, saying, "Honestly, you guys didn't have to do this. Isn't it a bit too early for you guys?"

"By that you mean too late?" Josie said from beside Bryan. Maze wandered over to them, accepting half-hugs along the way. She waved her soda bottle dismissively in the air and explained, "We just got done hanging out."

"Hanging out," Maze repeated, and Josie shrugged. She rose an eyebrow at Bryan, who was too busy drinking coffee to look her in the eye.

Maze only knew of one definition to "hanging out" at five in the morning in their hometown. The fact that Josie was using euphemisms with her confirmed all of her hesitations about even reconnecting with her friends after last January.

Of course they'd tip-toe around her. "But hey!" Amelia chimed in beside Josie, leaning over to thump Maze on the shoulder. "We're here, we brought your favorite—ginger beer from Auntie's place—and a great fire goin'."

Beside her, Willa nudged a bottle of it into Maze's hand. The lakefront was cold and the bottle was even colder thanks to the cooler that was likely stored in the back of Willa's pickup truck.

Amelia beamed at her and offered an encouraging thumbs up. Maze gave her a wary smile back and raised the bottle up like she had a reason to cheer.

She just wanted to fade into the background of the event, and that was exactly what they allowed her to do. Bryan offered his swiss army knife's bottle opener, which Maze used to crack open the soda. As she passed the knife back, she said, "Shy little bitch-baby?"

Bryan snorted and said, "Was I wrong?" "The fact that you're right is exactly what pisses me off," Maze said, and Bryan chuckled under his breath. Maze took a sip from the bottle and the sweet, fizzy ginger threw her back to her childhood.

She closed her eyes and hummed.

"You good now? Or are you still gonna give me trouble," Bryan said.

"Nah, I'm good now," she said. She caught herself watching Declan through the mirage above the fire. He had given her a warm smile when she showed up to the fire, but that was it. She didn't blame him. She glanced at Bryan and asked, "How's Declan's dad's shop?"

Bryan cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's fine. He hired a new guy this year, so it's holding up."

The rest went unsaid. It's holding up now that Maze's dad wasn't there. It couldn't have been an easy adjustment.

"It's still called Hiromichi's," Bryan said. Maze blinked. She could feel Josie's eyes shift over to them from where she heard the name. Maze set her jaw tight, pulling her hair out from behind her ear in hopes of shielding her gaze from Josie. She glared at Bryan, but her eyes flitted elsewhere just as quickly.

"Just so you know," Bryan added, belatedly.

Maze nodded, silent. "I figured you'd want to know. That he kept the name."

"Got it. Thanks," Maze said, and when she drank next, she wished it was actually beer. "As long as he's doing okay."

"Yeah, he's fine," Bryan said.

Maze mind went back to what her friends had been doing that night. Her eyes lingered on the line-up of vehicles in the parking lot—there was a new car among the usual, and Willa's truck meant that she wasn't participating that night. And, considering the state of Bryan's boxers in the car that morning, Maze could safely say that Bryan was asleep when all of this was happening.

Street racing.

Declan was into street racing, and he could thank that on his father's influence that had likely eased since January. It was because of him that Bryan and Maze were ever introduced to the scene. Maze had frequented her father's motor shop enough to befriend Declan outside of school hours. On their high school grounds, Maze never would have suspected him to be in the street racing scene. School Council president, Homecoming King, and brief boyfriend to Willa back when they felt obligated considering Willa was the captain of the girls' basketball team.

And then Declan started asking questions about Maze's father's classic Ford Mustang.

Maze had been flattered. He was always charismatic, handsome, and smart and having his eyes on her made her awkward, adolescent heart sing. So of course when he smiled at her during one of Bryan's parties and said in a wistful voice, "I so wish I could see it..." Maze relented.

She had snuck him into her dad's garage, and that was the end of it. It was love at first sight (for Declan and the Mustang, that is) and Maze was desperate for his approval and... perhaps an adrenaline rush of her own that wasn't on a track with her father.

It was odd to think that, as she caught his eye through the haze, he had been the reason she and Bryan were even here. Sure, Bryan threw all of the best parties in high school, but Declan had inadvertently strung them together with something a little thicker than stolen booze and cheap games.

Something illegal.

Some might call it an addiction, and Maze could attest to that. She had crashed and burned that bridge back in January and hadn't picked it up since. It wasn't for fear of trying, by any means. Her envy for them was insurmountable when they had their own cars. Living in New York made that life a mere dream for Maze.

They watched the sunrise as it painted the lake orange. Amelia threw her hands in the air and cheered, shouting, "This view is so much better than Chicago!"

Josie rolled her eyes while Declan laughed, pointed to the west, and said, "We can literally see Chicago from here, you know."

Willa threw her head back laughing because Amelia completely ignored them and proceeded to twerk like they were surrounding a keg stand instead of a bonfire. Declan slapped her ass, but that just egged her on. Maze covered her face and together, she and Bryan took a sip of their respective drinks. Amelia and Josie were both friends that they made through racing. Kids from the Chicago suburbs swung around Indiana because it was convenient, instantly rural, with enough distant country roads to make racing feasible.

Truthfully, Illinois was easier territory to race in, but was made difficult by the fact that they all had to be back by dawn or risk the ire of their parents back in high school. Maze often waited until her parents travelled elsewhere and left the car with her over a long weekend.

Maze had never raced in anything other than her dad's Mustang. She was a goner the moment she was thirteen and her dad let her try her hand at it even though she hadn't gone through a growth spurt yet and could barely tap the pedals. She went about half a block before bailing out, but that was all it took. She and her dad used to drive up and down the coast into Michigan, Illinois, Wisconsin, all the way up to the UP.

The thought of driving again left her hands tingling. God, did she miss it.

In the privacy of Scorpion, Maze confessed as much.

"I want to race again."

The flaw in that plan went unsaid. Bryan looked at her once, twice, and three times for good measure. Maze rose her eyebrows on that third glance, and since her friend never answered, she repeated it.

"I heard you the first time," Bryan said. "Dude, you don't have a car to race with."

Maze sighed. The chances of her buying her own car were so low, they might as well have been screaming it into the Earth's core. Not only that, but she'd have to purge all that remained of her life savings and then some for modifications.

Bryan readjusted his grip on the wheel, awkward and unconvincing. It wasn't a secret that Maze would be tight on cash well into her late thirties, if she was lucky.

"I wish nothing had to change," Maze said. "Yeah," Bryan sighed. It took several calls over the semester for Bryan to stop apologizing whenever Maze said existential shit like that.

The guilt from sounding like a broken record player gnawed at her chest. "I get that you guys think I'm sensitive or something about driving—" 

"We don't think you're sensitive about it," Bryan said, tired.

"Then explain to me why y'all went racing last night and didn't talk about it this morning? Willa can never shut up about it usually," Maze said, and she knew that because she and Willa were enablers. If one of them started talking about it, it became a competition to see who could talk the others' ear off first. "And why didn't you go?"

"I had plans to pick you up, dude! 'Course I didn't go," he said, indignant. The biting edge sobered

Maze, just a little. "Even if the chances are slim, I wouldn't risk winding up in jail and have to explain it over my one phone call."

Maze couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, right, like you'd use me for your one phone call."

"Don't even deny it. I'd call you, then you'd call my mom, and—" Bryan said, and Maze laughed, shoving his shoulder.

"Fine, I'll take your word for it," she said. "But I hate not talking about your races even if I can't participate anymore. I miss it enough as it is."

It took the remaining five minutes of the drive for Bryan to mull over Maze's words. The tape deck cycled back around to the first track, clicking over the speakers, until Scarborough Fair starting playing as Bryan's car pulled into the parking lot of all-too familiar diner.

The bar and kitchen lights were the only ones on this early in the morning, and Maze could just make out the silhouettes in the kitchen.

"Alright, fine," Bryan decided, leaning his wrist against the gear lever. He put one finger up, looked Maze in the eyes, and said, "Next time, I'll get you my dad's Corvette."

Maze gasped so hard she choked.

Bryan startled as Maze doubled-over, coughing, and recovered with a hysterical laugh as she flung herself over the console to hug the absolute shit out of Bryan. "Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou—"

"Don't—thank me yet, Jesus Christ," Bryan said, gently brushing Maze off. He readjusted his sweatshirt like it had cufflinks. "And for the record, I never agreed to this."

Maze's eyes shined, her smile wider than it had been all year. She gripped Bryan by the shoulders and whispered, "Are you my sugar daddy now?" Bryan looked like he was half a second away from committing arson. "This isn't a promise," he said.

"Are we...? About to kiss now...?" Maze teased with a devious smirk that had Bryan slapping her upside the head. Maze rubbed at her hair with a frown as he leant over her seat to shove open the passenger door. Maze took it as an opportunity to latch onto his shoulders, hugging him again. "If you wanted a hug, all ya had to do was ask—" 

"Get out of my car, you animal," Bryan said, but for the record, he definitely hugged Maze back. 

______

a/n: Hope you enjoy this new story :D Let me know what you think! 

Who's your favorite character so far?