A Forced First Date Is Not Usually A Good One

"Have you been pulling my chain this whole fucking time? Is anything you've taught me even a little correct?!"

"What?" he asked, completely confused. "Of course it is!"

"Why should I believe you? You want to get into Renee's pants--maybe you're just trying to get rid of the competition, you huge asshole!"

"I just told you that she's not interested in me anymore!" he said, standing up again. "If you don't want to believe me, then fine, goodbye."

Max took out his phone as he walked outside.

She followed him outside, tossing her ice cream on the ground.

"You're telling me that I'm supposed to believe that you'd just try to help me get the girl you like, with no fucking conditions. That's what you expect me to believe?! Come on, you have to have an end game--tell me, or I'll--I'll beat it out of you!"

Max ignored her, hard as it was, as he texted Renee. She'd come to his rescue, like she always did.

She grabbed him from behind and forced him to face her.

"Tell me!" she exclaimed. "Why the fuck did you do it?!"

Max dropped his phone and started to cry.

"I-I..." he blubbered miserably. He didn't know what else to do.

Lydia blushed, and she dropped him, unsure of what to do.

"...S-stop that, okay! Jesus fucking Christ, I'm sorry, just...just calm down, okay? I'm not gonna hurt you if you stop crying!"

But all Max could do was cry and sob even as Renee texted his phone, worried.

"Christ," she muttered to herself again, running a hand through her hair. "Fucking Christ. I'll do anything if you just quit it, okay?! Just stop crying and I won't hurt you or nothing, I'll owe you or whatever you want."

But all Max could do was sob, big, shuddering sobs that made him seem truly pitiful.

She bit her lip.

"...Do you...do you want a ride home?" she offered weakly, running out of ideas. She prayed to God no one would see them.

He wiped his eyes and tried to move the hair from his face. How he wanted to find his phone. He could hardly see. He knew it wouldn't be long before Renee figured out the obvious and began to angrily text Lydia and it'd be all his fault.

She stared at him hopelessly; Lydia wasn't so good with upset men. She tried to think of what always cheered her uncle up.

"...Do you need some booze, or um...some strippers, maybe?"

Max could hardly even choke out a "what?" as he searched the ground for any signs of his phone. He sighed and just gave up, wiping away his remaining tears.

"I can get you both," she suggested, still awkwardly cracking her knuckles. "If I do, will you quit blubbering?"

He shook his head, feeling tired and miserable but he had stopped crying.