A. Walters - Lead Me Not

I was met by twelve pairs of eyes whose owners seemed to take me in and judge me in the span of thirty seconds. Crap, this wasn’t going to be easy. Blue Eyes across from me still hadn’t looked away from my face, and I was feeling more than a little uncomfortable.

Kristie smiled and gave me a slight nod, letting me know it was my turn to talk. I took a deep breath and looked around the group. “Hi. I’m really excited to be a part of this group. I’m working on my degree in counseling, and I hope my experience can . . . I don’t know . . . help you in some way,” I said. I wanted to cringe at how pretentious I sounded. They were going to hate me. I just knew it.

Several of the girls rolled their eyes, and their body language immediately told me that I was right; they totally hated me. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this after all.

Kristie recognized my floundering and jumped in. “Some of your faces I know; the rest of you are new. I’d like to take a moment to go around the circle and have you introduce yourselves. Say something about yourself. Why you’re here. What you hope to get out of the next twelve weeks. The important thing to remember is that this is a safe place to talk. Anything you say in this room stays in this room. We are all bound by that confidentiality. It is important that you trust each and every person here; otherwise this can’t work.”

Kristie nodded her head toward a girl I recognized from the front desk of the university’s library. The girl looked down at her name tag and pointed at it with a shy smile. “I’m Marissa. I’m a sophomore, and I’ve struggled with an addiction to Ritalin for almost two years,” she said quickly, as though she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth fast enough.

Kristie smiled. “We’re glad you’re here, Marissa,” she said sincerely. It continued like that around the circle. There was Kyle, the frat guy. I was surprised to hear that he had been busted for cocaine possession twice and was worried about losing his football scholarship. Looking at him, you’d see an athletic jock who lived for a good time. I would never have suspected he struggled with something like that.

Then there were Lisa and Twyla, the sorority girls, who were best friends but also found themselves addicted to methamphetamines to stay awake so they could get their homework done. There was Josh, who smoked pot so often he was failing most of his classes. Gigi, who liked to dabble in ecstasy on the weekends. Grant and Vince, who liked painkillers. And Lynette, who found herself addicted to Percocet after her knee surgery last year.

Then Kristie turned to the hostile couple, who had become more and more agitated as everyone introduced themselves.

“What about you two? What do the two of you hope to get out of the group?” Kristie asked kindly. The girl looked at her hand, which was still smothered by her boyfriend’s larger grasp. She didn’t look up, her bright pink hair covering her eyes.

The guy’s lips thinned, and he was silent for so long I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to say anything. Then finally he gritted his teeth and said in a barely audible voice, “I’m Evan, and this is April. We just want to put the hours in and get this shit over with.”

I looked over at Kristie. Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly, but I noticed it all the same. These two were going to be hard to deal with. Kristie looked at April, who seemed to shrink in on herself. The dynamic between the pair was downright disturbing.

“Do you agree, April? Are you only here to put in the required hours? Or is there something more you’re hoping to learn?” The pink-haired girl shook her head. After a few moments, Kristie realized she wasn’t going to get anything out of an obviously mute April.

Which left the blond and blue-eyed boy whose name tag on the front of his shirt read “Maxx.” Kristie seemed relieved to turn her focus to him. He had sat quietly during the introductions, playing the role of the model group member. He made sure to act interested while the others talked, but I couldn’t shake the sense that he really didn’t give a shit, that for him this was all a game and he knew what part he had to play.

“Finally, the last member of the group. Why don’t you tell us a little bit about why you’re here,” Kristie said. His grin was deceptively benign, but his eyes revealed a different story altogether. I just wished I knew what that story was.

The other girls in the group were completely transfixed by him. I had read a book once about cult leaders who were able to control a room with a smile or a gesture. They had a charisma about them that made people lay down their lives for them. I had always thought that was ridiculous; no one could be so magnetic that people would happily follow them off the edge of the world if they were asked to.

Looking at Maxx and the way the entire room gravitated toward him, I finally understood it. And the scary thing was that it was obvious he knew the power he had. And he enjoyed it.

Despite my less-than-friendly feelings toward the mysterious boy, I couldn’t help my more primal reaction to him. It was easy to fantasize about how his body would feel against mine. He seemed like the type who craved control, and it made me shiver to imagine relinquishing control of my body to him.

My contradictory feelings were also unethical and completely unprofessional. I was here as a facilitator. I was in a position of authority, however tentative, and I shouldn’t be lusting after a guy who was here for treatment.

What was wrong with me? This was so out of character that it shocked me.

Maxx looked around the room in a leisurely way, taking his time to make the circle until his gaze finally settled on me. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and I couldn’t help that my eyes fell to his mouth. Fucking hell . . .

A flash of some unidentifiable emotion heated his face. Just as suddenly as it appeared, it was gone, as though it had never been there. His tongue disappeared behind his teeth as he grinned at me, making me wonder if he could read the inappropriate thoughts I was having.

And that pissed me off. He pissed me off. Which was irrational. I didn’t even know him.

My neck flushed bright red under his scrutiny. The strange familiarity I had felt when he arrived only increased the longer he looked at me. When his attention finally shifted away, my breath came out in a noisy rush that embarrassed me.

Kristie gave me a strange look before turning back to Maxx. His lips quirked as though something about all of this amused him. But then, as if he’d flicked a switch, his face smoothed and his eyes became serious. It was like watching someone put on a mask. It was seamless and complete.

“I’m Maxx Demelo,” he began, his voice soft and rich. I swallowed around the thick lump in my throat.

That voice. I knew it. But from where?

Maxx lifted his hands in the air, his broad shoulders heaving in a shrug as though he was about to reveal the secrets of his soul. His eyes flicked to me again, and he said with absolute sincerity, “And I came here to be saved.”

Was this guy for real?

I looked at the other group members and quickly realized they had all swallowed his Kool-Aid. Kristie seemed to think seriously about his statement as she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

“That seems like a pretty tall order, don’t you think?” she asked him, and I could tell she was as fascinated by Maxx as the rest of us. Everyone, even Evan and April, was fixated on the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy who wore his vulnerability like a badge of honor. It was so at odds with the cocksure, mocking guy who had walked in only fifteen minutes earlier. It was as though he were playing dress-up, trying to decide which character to be.

Maxx crossed his legs at the ankle and rested his hands in his lap. “I don’t think so,” he said. His eyes drifted my way again, and I felt like a mouse in a snare. I really wished he would stop looking at me.

“I’ve found my way into hell, and wanting salvation is the only thing that keeps me going.” His words were quiet and controlled, and I couldn’t tell if he was feeding us all a line or if he meant it.

“I’m ready to be saved. I need it, Kristie. So I will do whatever I have to do to get it.” He sounded almost angry. Everyone was quiet for a few minutes as if his words had struck a chord deep inside them.

Finally, Kristie blinked as she smiled at the group, shaking off the spell Maxx had created. “Well . . . ,” she began, and cleared her throat. “Let’s hope you find it,” Kristie said, a little too brightly. I watched Maxx and knew without a doubt that he was something dangerous.

He was something primal and unfettered—a force that could take everything and everyone down with him, burning it all in a violent flame. And then afterward he would dance on the ashes.

He was terrifying.

maxx

the group was a joke. But if I didn’t want to end up in the slammer, I’d have to suck it up and spend the next twelve weeks of my life talking about my fucking feelings. I had been to enough therapy in my twenty-one years to know the score. I knew how to play the part to get me through it.

Share a sob story. Act like you believed the line of bullshit they threw at you. Then get your ass so far on the other side that you never had to think about it again.

But I had been stupid, a little too cocky, and I had gotten myself busted, though I had been lucky and had just sold most of what I had on me that night, leaving only a couple of pills. Possession, not intent to distribute, meant the difference between community service and mandatory counseling as opposed to sitting in a jail cell worrying about getting ass-raped after I dropped the soap in the showers.

So I would become the Maxx who felt guilt and shame, a guy who regretted his decisions, even as I planned how I would do it all over again.

Because choice had been taken from me a long time ago, and there was no place for guilt in the world I lived in.

I had walked into the room on Tuesday evening, expecting it to be the fucking mockery that it was.

What I hadn’t been expecting was to see a girl with long blond hair and eyes that had the power to cut through me like a knife. She had knocked me sideways, leaving me scrambling to find my footing.

I was drawn to her. I couldn’t help it. Some things were impossible to ignore—and the way my dick twitched in my pants as I stared at her long legs was one of them.

I laid it on thick. I knew how to say and do what was necessary to get what I wanted.

Except I got the distinct impression she wasn’t buying what I was selling. And I wasn’t sure what the hell I was supposed to do with that. It messed with my head, and it pissed me off.

But it also made me determined.

And whether she realized it or not, her dismissal was all the motivation I needed.

So I watched her watching me, and I figured that maybe this support group thing wouldn’t be half bad.

aubrey

“are you going to answer that?” Brooks asked from my couch, where he was doing a damned good impersonation of a deadbeat beer guzzler.

My phone vibrated on an endless loop as it danced across my coffee table. We were three hours into our weekly cram session. I was trying to study for my Developmental Psychology quiz, while Brooks made a good show of writing his paper for Behavioral Genetics.

Brooks and I were both pretty intense when it came to our course work, though perhaps at times I put a little more emphasis on the work part than Brooks did.

I had barely registered the fact that my phone had been going off for the past ten minutes. Brooks leaned across the coffee table and snapped his fingers an inch from my nose.

I scowled and batted his hand away. “Stop it!” I grumbled, flipping the page in my textbook, already immersed in language acquisition in children. Riveting stuff.

“Pick it up or turn it off, Aubrey, before I chuck it out the window,” Brooks threatened. I gave him an amused smirk, knowing the sound of his bark all too well. Brooks looked fried. His hair stood on end, and his eyes gave him more than a little bit of a harried look.

“Okay, okay. Settle down, boy,” I teased, grabbing my phone just before it fell onto the floor.

“Hello?” I said, without bothering to check the caller ID. Stupid Aubrey! I should have known by now to always check the caller ID.