Doctor Johnson told Max to be extra careful with his injuries, and man is he trying. It seems like every which way he turns his ankle shoots pain up and down his leg and he ends up shouting and falling down.

It doesn't help that he's all out of painkillers, either. He isn't sure how long he has been in the hospital, all he knows is that he was given a splint and some crutches, but now he is in the lobby, waiting to be released.

Zeke had gotten him his spares, which are identical to his normal ones, and now he's kind of leaning on the guy. The crutches hurt his armpits, and his shoulder still stings so he really doesn't want to use them.

Gina's up at the counter, and Zeke turns to him, though he keeps his hand around Max's forearm to make sure he doesn't tip over.

"You know you're gonna have to go to school like that, right?"

Max rolls his eyes, but then realization dawns on him.

"Shit, I will."

Zeke starts snickering, and Max restrains himself from kicking him in the shin. One, because there really isn't any way for him to do that without severely hurting himself, and two, because Zeke is kind of the one holding him up, and so if Zeke goes then they both go.

There really isn't a way to win this.

So Max settles for flipping him off and rolling his eyes.

Right then, Gina shows up and they make their way out to her beat up Honda, which Max has a certain unexplainable fondness for.

Shit, dude. He really is not looking forward to school.

-

It turns out that Max needs to wait a week to go see Doctor Johnson before going to school. He has to get X-rays every week, to make sure it's doing okay and everything is in its place. That week mostly consists of him sitting on the couch playing video games and eating chips while Gina pesters him to keep his leg elevated and take his pain pills—the latter of which he has absolutely no problem with.

When it is finally time to go to the doctor, Max is completely out of it. He has just woken up and the pills are not helping. At least, not as much as he wants them to. He's thanking everything holy for Zeke. Zeke, who had actually taken the day off from school, which Gina was surprisingly okay with.

Aw, Zeke does love him.

The ride in the car is filled with Max falling in and out of consciousness and Zeke doing something on his phone, Max doesn't even care enough to look. When they arrive, Zeke holds one of Max's crutches in his left hand, while Max is using the other one with his right. He's using Zeke for the rest, though. He hates crutches.

Gina does all of the reception bullshit while Max and Zeke go to the very corner couch. Max stretches himself out, while Zeke sits on the floor beside him, holding both of his crutches. Gina eventually makes it back to them, sitting in the chair at Max's feet. She picks up a magazine and begins reading, despite the fact that it's most likely outdated.

"What if your ankle never gets better, and you're stuck on crutches for the rest of your life?" Zeke whispers from beside him.

Max punches him in the shoulder for that.

"Ow! It could happen," Zeke defends, rubbing his shoulder—which is probably not in actual pain, by the way.

"Maxwell?" A woman with fair skin and dark eyes calls from the doorway, a few minutes later.

Max stands up, reluctantly taking his crutches from Zeke and following the friendly looking lady to a back room with a small bed.

She helps him sit down on it, though he's bigger than her so it's barely successful. He leans against the wall and spreads his legs out in front of him while she leans his crutches on the side of the bed, before asking him a series of questions. Shit like 'what have you been eating recently?' And 'how have you been treating your injury at home?'

His answer to most of them makes the lady frown, and give him a small lecture on how important it is to make sure that he's treating his injury with care.

She soon leaves, and Max is left to wondering about what exactly his life would be like if he had a broken ankle for forever until Doctor Johnson appears.

"Hello, Max," Doctor Johnson greets as he steps through the door, setting his clip board on a small desk in the corner of the room while sitting in his chair.

"Hey."

It wouldn't matter if Max answered though, because Doctor Johnson goes straight to the X-Rays, and he eventually informs Max that he's healing correctly and the pieces are where they're supposed to be.

When Max is finally able to leave, he goes straight to the waiting room and shoves his crutches into Zeke's arms, before leaning on him like he has jello for legs. Sorry, he really hates crutches.

Gina and all of them make their way straight to the car. Max goes back to passing out against the window while Zeke continues doing fuck knows what on his phone.

"Hey, Zeke?" Max murmurs, half asleep.

"What?"

"Do you have my pills?"

"No."

Max groans, banging his head against the window. Zeke rolls his eyes.

-

That weekend is mostly made up of the same shit that Max was doing earlier. He really needs to buckle down on this or else his leg may actually end up broken forever.

When Monday comes, he is passed out on the couch in the greeting room. Gina typically goes to work at around four in the morning, and even then she is almost always in a huge rush. This probably explains how she didn't see the numerous beer bottles laying on the floor around Max, and one resting in his hand.

After rolling his eyes and trying not to kick Max's ass for getting drunk the night before he has to go back to school, Zeke shakes him awake. It's always been a relatively easy task to wake the boy up, so it only takes a few seconds before Max is stirring.

As soon as Max opens his eyes, he wants to go back to sleep.

However, when he realizes that he has to go back to school that day, he wants to lock himself in his room and never come out.

Then, when he realizes that he has to go back to school with a broken leg, he wants to fucking jump off a bridge.

"Wakey wakey, cupey-cakey"

It takes all of Max's strength not to tell Zeke to fuck off and go back to sleep.

Zeke has to literally drag Max out of bed, make him take a shower, force him to get dressed and eventually sit him at the old, creaky wooden kitchen table—with chairs in just as bad a shape. It is a wonder how it hasn’t all collapsed yet.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Asprin."

Zeke nods and begins readying them each a bowl of Lucky Charms, setting down some asprin and cup of water in front of Max. Max is more than ready to take it, too.

Eventually, Zeke is done mothering him and has him fed, dressed, and all caught up on his hygiene. Then, they go outside to wait for their ride. When Harvey pulls up outside of their apartment complex, he can already tell Max is a wreck.

"Dude, you look like someone killed your cat," he laughs as Zeke takes shotgun, after laying Max's crutches on the floor of the back. Max literally flops down across the back seat, groaning and holding his head.

"I fuckin' wish I had a cat..." Max mutters, he doesn't even put on his seatbelt.

"Uh, if we got in a crash you'd probably die."

"Don't get my hopes up."

Harvey and Zeke roll their eyes—it's almost synchronized—before Harvey steps on the gas and they practically fly to the school. Harvey seriously needs his license revoked. Or, at the very least, another in-car session with an instructor.

When they arrive and Max gets out of the car, he gets one of two reactions from everyone. One: they laugh, to which he sighs and rubs his head. He doesn't give a shit, he's too hungover; or two: they simply stare. He responds the exact same way as before.

Max is heading to his first class, however, he stops in his tracks when he hears his name over the intercom. "Maxwell Tucker, please report to the principal's office."

Max immediately figures that they want to talk about something to do with his ankle, so he  exchanges glances with Zeke and they make their way in the direction of the principle's office, waving bye to Harvey.

When they arrive, the guy directs them to one of the back rooms.

As Max steps into the room, he immediately recognizes the lady as Miss Thompson. He isn't sure what she does, but he does know that she works with his schedule a lot and he has to talk to her about his studies and eyesight and how he's doing in his classes.

He also isn't quite sure how she feels about him, most teachers are kind of awkward around him (especially when forced to address his learning disorders or visual impairments) but he's never been able to pinpoint her thoughts.

"Hello Zeke, Max, please take a seat."

They both nod and sit in the small chairs in front of her.

"Now Max, I understand that you broke your ankle?"

Max nods.

"Alright, well we have arranged to have a student help you throughout the next few weeks. Carry your books, hold your crutches, and maybe help you with your studies—you know, things of that sort."

Max raises an eyebrow, "but couldn't Zeke do that?"

Zeke frowns and gives Max a look "Who said I wanted to be your slave?"

"Boys, it wouldn't matter if Zeke wanted to help you because he isn't allowed to. Zeke is in a whole different curriculum..."

Max knows what she wanted to say, "Zeke has normal classes... and you're stupid."

Miss Thompson clears her throat. "Zeke is in a different curriculum and you are in Special Ed."

Yes, if you have a certain amount of learning disabilities, you have to be put in special education.

Whatever.

"So what, is this kid in Special Ed. too?" Zeke asks, raising an eyebrow.

Miss Thompson shakes her head, "No, he is a new student volunteer for Special Ed, and he is getting his work through other students."

Max is kinda pissed off, "Zeke could do that!"

Zeke glares at him again, "Again, who said I wanted to?"

Max falls back into his chair, exasperated.

Though, there really isn't a need to be. Whoever this kid is, he'll probably be freaked out enough by Max to be cool. Max is a weird kid, dark bruises permanently under his eyes. Ripped jeans, one fingerless glove on his left hand (for some reason it helps with his eyesight) then there is always the fact that he's either high, drunk, or hungover ninety percent of the time and the majority of his clothes are ripped  from the many injuries he's had and/or the fact that he is just clumsy as fuck. Not to mention, his hair is always a train wreck.

Needless to say, he usually looks like a complete mess. Most people just kind of avoid him and ignore his entire existence.

Miss Thompson gives him a small smile, "I hope you get better soon. I'll call him up while you wait."

Max nods and follows Zeke to the chairs, still way too hungover to even pay any mind to whatever the fuck is happening on the intercom.

He falls back into the chair, while Zeke hands him his crutches. Max reluctantly takes them.

"I'm gonna meet up with Amelia and them, good luck." He slaps his brother on the back, earning him a wince and a "yeah whatever."

Max is so tired that he ends up zoning out and falling half asleep, the only thing that brings him back to consciousness is the door opening, signaling an intruder, and when he looks up and meets their eyes, he almost beats himself in the face with the tissue box next to him.

Fuck no, maybe he's just here to do something else. There's no way that the universe hates him enough to make the kid that has to follow him around for the next few weeks be Lewis Barnes.

No. Surely he isn't that unlucky.

"Hello, Tucker."

Okay. Maybe he is.