A/N 1: So this was originally supposed to be a Phinabella fic, but since I couldn't see Phineas getting this angry even as a teenager, it became a Max/Roxanne fic. As to what they were fighting about, I'm not exactly sure, so I'll leave it up to you readers. Enjoy!

A/N 2: Inspired by Maroon 5's Payphone


"Ugh! Come on!" Max frantically dug into his pockets, trying to find another quarter. "There has to be one in here! I had change this morning!"

With every plop of rain on the roof of the dilapidated telephone booth, his frustration grew. All he needed was one more quarter. One more quarter and he could apologize.

"Okay, okay Max. Let's just calm down here. You probably put one in your wallet. Yeah, that's it." He dug out his wallet, rifling through it only to throw it to the ground. "You have got to be kidding me!" He absently poked his finger inside the coin return slot, a look of relief passing over his face. "YES!"

Quickly, he took the quarter, feeding it into the coin slot, tapping his fingers restlessly against the glassed in booth as the dial tone came on. "Please pick up please pick up please pick up—"

Hi! You've reached Roxanne's residence. We're not home right now, but if you could leave your name and number, I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Have a great day. Beep.

He swallowed a swear word before speaking. "Uh…Roxanne? Hi. It's Max Goof calling. Again. I've left you several messages. None of which have been returned…which is fine. I'm sure you're out and about and haven't had time to answer your calls. Anyway, I'm stranded on the side of the road. My car broke down and—"

BEEP. The phone clicked off.

He swore under his breath before taking another quarter, depositing it in the slot and dialing. The answering machine came on again.

"Roxanne? Hi. Max again. Uh, yeah. My car broke down, so I'm stranded on the side of the road and it's raining and cold—not that you'd care." He clamped a hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean that. It's just…well, with the rain and all—"

BEEP.

Another quarter went in, the dial tone came on and he dialed again. Once again, the answering machine came on.

"Hi Roxanne. It's me again. Look, I've been doing a lot of thinking. About us. And you're right. I can be a jerk sometimes. I have a temper and I know I can be harsh, but…I'm stranded and I need you to come get me. I'm sorry for everything I said earlier and—

BEEP.

Max sighed, fingering the last quarter. Was it even worth it? She was angry at him. Learning that he was lying wasn't going to help matters. But…if he didn't apologize now, he might lose her forever. He took a deep breath and pushed the last quarter into the slot. The answering machine picked up and he sighed.

"Hey Roxanne. Look. My car didn't really break down. The truth is, I've been wandering the streets all night, thinking about us. Like I said before, I know I can be a jerk. I have a temper and this horrible habit of lying…which I'm sure really isn't all that bad. But…I'm really sorry for what I said and I hope you can forgive me." He laid his head against the window pane. "I just miss you so much. If you ever left me, I don't know what I'd do. Just please, please forgive me."

The answering machine beeped and he sighed, hanging up the phone and running a hand through his hair. "Well, that's the end of it. She thinks I'm a jerk and I'll probably never see her again. I wouldn't blame her if she dumped me." The rain fell harder, slapping against the phone booth. "Might as well head home. Spending a night at home with Dad would be better than this."

He slid the door open, pulling his coat up against the wind and rain as he headed down the street, hands jammed inside his pockets. There was nothing to do now but face up to the fact that he had been a total and complete idiot.

"Max!"

His head shot up and he looked around. "Roxanne?" He glanced around before bracing himself against the wind. He grumbled. "Great. Now I'm hearing things."

"Max! Max wait!" He stopped, slowly turning around. Roxanne was running down the street, wearing nothing but shorts, a tank top and a pair of flip flops, trying to flag him down. "Max wait!"

"Roxanne!" She ran into his open arms and he enveloped her in a tight hug. "Roxanne, what are you doing here?" He brushed the hair from her face. "You're soaked!"

"Max, I got your message. All four of them. And…I'm sorry too. I know you have a temper. It's just that…" she swallowed. "You think after living with Daddy, I'd be used to yelling and having someone raise their voice to me. But, I was frightened. I thought you were-were—"

"Going to hit you?"

She nodded.

"Oh Roxanne." He hugged her tighter, a tear rolling down his face. "How could you think that? I would never, ever hit you. Or hurt you. I'm sorry for being a jerk and I'm sorry I lied. About having my car break down, about the Powerline concert, about anything else I may have lied about–"

Roxanne stepped back, hands on her hips. "Anything else you may have lied about?" She glared at him. "Max…"

"I stole the last bit of peanut butter from your Dad's stash!" Her look hardened. "I-Ididn't mean to! I was hungry and wanted to make myself a peanut butter sandwich. There was only a little left in the jar. I was going to replace it!"

She giggled. "Oh you." She wrapped her arms around him, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips before pulling away and putting an arm around his waist. "Come on. Let's go get dry."

He smiled. "Roxanne, that's the best thing I've heard all day."