She's A Saint

Max was always the more passionate one. I can see now that she's become even more of a dedicated nerd than she was five years ago, and I can honestly say without shame that it's the most admirable thing, with her photography and general heroic self. She even picked up some guitar skills over the years somehow. It's totally hipster of her, though. Ofcourse she wanted to express that artsy expertise for me and I undoubtedly let her attempt to show me a couple things on it, even though I have no idea what she's talking about most the time.

It's weird to see those little things that have changed about her. Well, more like grown about her actually. She's definitely still the same Max, just with a little more devotion and independence.

I'm almost struggling to concentrate on the things that she's saying to me as Max sits cross-legged in front of me atop the bed, her guitar tucked tightly underneath her arms. I'm on my stomach with my feet kicking the air and my chin pressing into my limp hands. It's gotta be hours past midnight and I have no idea how long we've been lounging around my room for.

Even though we're both wide awake, the mesmerizing sound of the guitar is tempting me to lay in silence forever and daze off, allowing her to sing me to sleep if she wanted to. I think Max gave up on trying to teach me anything about an hour ago when I started to get more unresponsive. Neither of us mind the other, though.

Eventually I blink back into awareness of my surroundings and force myself to roll off the bed and onto my feet. I refuse to let either of us fall asleep just yet when I see that the clock is telling me it's three o'clock in the morning, which is the perfect time in my opinion. If we're going to be in my room all night, we're going to need to find ways to keep ourselves busy.

"Not that I don't love your magical guitar playing," I begin to say as I sway toward the closet and begin clawing my hands through the mess that is inside, "but being as talentless as I am, I think this night needs a little more buzz."

"Buzz?" I barely hear Max's quiet voice over all the noise that I'm making, pushing aside boxes and random objects on the closet floor.

"That's right," I respond with a strained sigh in my voice, then briefly stop to glance over my shoulder at her. "How do you think I manage to get through as many nights as I do?" My body leans against the tight closet door to hold it open even though my jerking hip is making it rattle and scrape against the hard floor, creating even more noise than I had intended.

Finally my fingertips grasp something cold and I perk up in excitement. "Here we go, just the kick it needs." I turn around to face Max with a glass bottle in my hand and battle to close the frail door behind me. "I'm afraid all I know how to do is drink."

"Whoa, Chloe," Max says, her eyebrows perked up in astonishment. "I had no idea you had that in there."

"Yeah, I stole this shit out of the liquor cabinet. I'm stashed for the apocalypse," I mention with pride and a shrug in my shoulders. "Come on down to Chloe's when that day comes." Max is staring at the bottle in my hand with a worrisome expression as I plop down heavily next to her at the end of the bed.

"Chloe, I hope you remember the way David freaked with the weed." I can hear the insecurity in her voice as she lifts up the guitar and places it at the top of the bed.

"How could I not?" I ask, my mind briefly flashing back to that instant and shuddering. "Trust me, I do this all the time," I reassure her with a nod and pull the cap off with a forceful jerk. The sweet smell of alcohol immediately floods around me.

"Really?" asks Max, "How the hell do you manage to get away with it?"

I can't help but giggle at how she still seems to be shocked with some of the things I do as if it is the most unbelievable thing in the world. "Max, relax. No one's even awake right now." I state with a grin and peer down at the open bottle. "Besides, if my mom or stepdouche finds this, you're coming down with me." I conclude and jerk my finger at her, then raise the drink to my lips before she can anything else.

"Right, and then we'll have nothing to worry about," she replies sarcastically with a smirk aimed toward me. "Right?"

My nose momentarily scrunches from the overwhelming taste and I chuckle at her again. It's been so long since I had a drink. "I seriously doubt they will, though. This shit's been under their noises for months." Max remains silent and I jerk the bottle toward her. "Here."

She barely has to take a second glance at it before raising her hand dismissively. "I'm good."

A wide grin instantly forms on my lips and I raise my chin toward the ceiling. "Right, I forgot you were totally innocent," I say humorously. "Still the same, Max Caulfield." I take her rejection as an opportunity to steal her swig and throw my head back again.

"Hey, that's not true," Max instantly interjects and I can hear the defeated smile in her voice as I savour the taste of the alcohol. "I sorta had a drink at a wedding once." Her voice trails quieter in what can only be a hint of embarrassment.

I can tell she's only trying and failing to defend herself. "Oh, Max, you're so cute," I take note of how admiring yet amusing her innocence can be. "Come on, it barely tastes like anything." My arm slightly extends toward her again in experiment.

Her eyebrows are pressed together as she continuously glances from me to the bottle in complete silence with a look of uncertainty, although I can tell she's considering it.

"Don't make me drink alone," I pursuade quietly with batting eyelashes, even though I'm not expecting her to actually try it.

Unexpectedly, Max grips the bottle out of my hand and hardly flashes her eyes at it before taking a larger gulp than she should have. My eyes widen in amused fear for her when I see her immediately retract and it takes every inch of my self control not to burst out laughing. I press my lips tightly together.

"Jesus!" She outbursts through strangled coughs and sticks her tongue out in disgust.

I finally abandon my effort to remain silent and explode into a fit of laughter.

"I thought you said it wouldn't taste like anything," she defends with a look of pure confusion plastered on her face.

"Oh, Max, you should know by now not to trust me," I tease after reclaiming my breath. "But you gotta admit, that was hella funny."

I'm still giggling to myself when Max playfully shoves my arm and I barely lean over to one side. "I can't believe you did that," she says with a grin on her lips, then dramatically scrunches up her nose. "Is it supposed to feel that warm?"

"Trust me, you'll stop noticing it in a bit." I reassure her after finally managing to compose myself.

"Whch is implying that you're gonna get me drunk?" Max asks expectantly and I can tell she is dreading the answer.

I push myself off the bed after taking the bottle back from her then glance over my shoulder. "A girl can dream, can't she?" I comment with a smirk. "Come on, let's cool off before this shit starts to smell."

I fidget with the crippled locks on the window and forcefully haul the frame upwards with one hand, the cool crisp air immediately cascading around my face. The night is dark with only the glow of the moon and dying street lights illuminating the damp streets.

After setting the bottle down around the corner, I carelessly perch onto my desk and crawl through the open space onto the roof. Immediately, I feel a chilling breeze on my bare legs that sends a shiver travelling up my spine.

Max giggles from behind me who's standing in front of my desk and ducking her head through the window at me. "You're insane," she jokes. "I'm guessing you do this all the time too?"

"Once upon a time." My hand extends out to her. "Or maybe I've just been waiting for the right person to share a sappy moment with." I playfully wink at her before she fully crawls through and I shift to lean my back against the siding of the house. "You know, stare at the stars and what not."

She chuckles cheerfully next to me and pulls her knees up to her chest. "You wish," she scoffs.

"I guess we'll just see where the night takes us." I flash her a final cheeky grin before pressing the bottle to my lips again.

The dim, colorful lights from my bedroom cascade through the window and form a faint glow on our skin. The streets are completely silent except for the occassional rustling of leaves in the close distance. There are only a few other houses I can see from where we are that have their lights on at this hour too. The weather is comforting and refreshing, and I'm relieved it wasn't too cold for us to come out here.

Max and I spend what feels like centuries in eachothers company atop the roof, talking shit and admiring the view. I manage to make up a couple of shitty drinking games that don't end up lasting very long, but I'm surprised Max even plays along with them and actually doesn't let me drink alone. At least that makes it fun for the both of us, I think.

In the distance, the glowing lighthouse is barely visible above the thick trees across the street. Sometimes it's hard for me to believe that I've been in the same tiny town for my entire life. There isn't a single area in Arcadia Bay that Max and I haven't explored.

I stare in bewilderment as Max takes another swig from the bottle who is carelessly gazing forward at nothing in particular. "Damn, Max. I honestly never though I'd see you drinking from one of these in a million years," I comment honestly. "What a time to be alive."

A smile instantly forms on her face and she shakes her head at me. "Please," she begins in a barely audible voice, "it's not bad."

Rolling my eyes, I purse my lips in an attempt not to giggle at her.

"What can I say? You're a bad influence on me," she says, slightly leaning her face closer to me.

"Fuck yeah," I agree with pride in my voice, "I just hope you know you have to keep it all down later."

As I gaze forward at the streets, I feel Max's hair tickling my cheek when she heavily rests her head on my shoulder. "You're beautiful." Her voice sounds as if she is half asleep.

My eyebrows heavily press together as I make a confused face at her. "I'm flattered but at least take me to dinner first."

At hearing those words she immediately retracts and sits up straight again. "Okay, then, let's go," she suggests with excitement, her volume raised.

My chest tightens when I can't resist outright laughing at her. "You're drunk," I tell her carelessly without making eye contact, then tilt my head back for a heavy gulp.

She makes a humorous sound between her teeth as if I'm being the ridiculous one, and limply flicks her wrist at my knee. "I am so not. I've never been drunk in my life."

I immediately lower the bottle and attempt to speak while still swallowing. "Wait, wait," the rough shingles underneath me scrape at my legs as I shift to reach my hand through the window and grab my phone off my desk. I feel my head swirling and vision going blurry from the sudden movement. "Say that again," I scramble to type in the passcode and aim it directly at her.

I have to slightly lean back in order to see her through the camera. Only her grainy shadow is visible on the screen, but her shaded face barely glows from the limited amount of light.

Her lazy smile refuses to leave her face as she makes an effort to avoid eye contact with me and the phone. "What?" she mumbles while maneuvering odd, swaying head movements and looking everywhere but the phone.

"Say it again!" I demand through fitted giggles.

Max briefly glares at me from underneath her eyelashes then raises her chin challengingly. "I've never been drunk. In. My. Life." she confesses slowly while annunciating every word and looks directly into the phone mid sentence. Her wide, blue eyes get slightly too close to the camera while she speaks.

"I'm definitely showing you that in the morning," I promise while finally lowering the phone and throwing it back onto my desk. "Okay, I'm feeling a little tipsy myself," I admit as I push myself up into a crouch with a struggle. "Let's get off this roof before one of us falls off. Or more like you fall off."

I allow Max to go first just for the sake of keeping an eye on her, and I catch her muttering a barely audible 'whoa' when she's back in the bedroom and on her feet. I decide to leave the window untouched so that the smell of the alcohol will continue to fan out.

"Yo, you know what would go really good with this? Coke." I suggest with excitement bubbling up inside me although I'm barely even expecting Max to be listening. "Be right back."

I'm out of the room in a flash and heading downstairs when I regret moving so quickly and have to hold on to the railing so I don't trip. It's nearly pitch black in the house and my head continues to spin with every step I take. I've been tipsy through the house so many times before, I've lost count. Even in front of my mom, who thankfully never seems to catch on to it. I assume I've just learned over time how to hide it, or maybe she does know and just decides not to say anything about it since there will be no point.

I'm capable of controlling myself all the way to the kitchen without any major fuck ups, even though I did slightly stumble over my own feet while stopping at the refrigerator for the coke and only giggle to myself afterwards.

As soon as I turn around with an accomplished grin on my face, my vision is immediately met with what appears to be a dark figure at the entrance of the kitchen and my heart nearly jumps out of my throat at the suddenness of it. It's so dark I can barely see who it is and for a second I think it might be my mom. But it doesn't take long for me to realize that it's only Max and I haven't been caught buzzed with my nose in the fridge at four in the morning.

"Oh, my god, you're really drunk, aren't you?" I mumble indirectly with a relieved sigh.

Since she actually came downstairs after me for no apparent reason, I'm assuming she probably drank a little more after I left. Well, she definitely stopped tasting it a long time ago, I think. Then again, it's much easier for her to get drunk since she's not used to it at all and is probably more sensitive to it.

"I wanted to see if you were okay," she says as I pace toward her and delicately wrap my arm around her shoulders. "Your breath stinks." There is a sharp hiss in her voice as if it is the most terrible thing.

"That's yours," I whisper as I begin to guide her back toward the stairs. "Listen, you have to be really quiet so no one gets busted tonight."

Max gasps dramatically. She hasn't taken her eyes off me yet as if I am something strange that she's seeing for the first time. "Why? What'd you do?"

I may as well be blind considering the fact that I can't see a single thing in the darkness except for a few shadows, added to the minor blurriness of my vision from drinking. I'm using every inch of self control to keep myself together at least until we get back upstairs, especially with an entertaining drunk Max in my arms.

After only a few cautious steps, I suddenly collide with her backside when she parades directly into the corner of the staircase railing, making a lot more noise than I would have hoped. I harshly shush her when she starts to giggle and she responds with shushing me too and holding a finger to her lips, as if I'm the one that needs to be quiet.

I'm certain we've woken up the entire house by now. My mother could be out of her bedroom in seconds and Max and I would be the first thing she sees at the bottom of the stairs in the middle of the night.

After I take my time rotating the knob to my bedroom as quietly as possible, I turn around and spot Max's shadowed figure on the other side of the stairs directly in front of my mother's door. My breath suddenly gets trapped in my throat and it takes everything in me not to outburst. I can tell she's about to turn the handle to their room when a strangled squeak manages to escape my lips at the sight of it.

"Shit, Max!" I call out in a hoarse whisper and attempt to bolt toward her immediately but I end up sliding on the floor from mistakingly running in the wrong direction. Thankfully, within two large lunges I dig my fingernails into her hand and drag her into my room before she can say or do anything else.

"Jesus, remind me never to leave you alone when there's alcohol in you," I advise with complete relief after finally closing the door behind us and snapping open the can of coke in my hand.

It's honestly comforting to be back in my bedroom knowing that Max is in my sight and we're not risking getting caught drunk in the dark by anyone anymore.

I set the can down on my chaotic desk and when I peer forward again, Max is laughing gleefully with dazed eyes as she slowly steps toward me and begins tangling her fingers in mine. "That was fun." Her face is beaming.

"It was," I agree and purposely immitate her breathy voice.

Our palms are pressed together in between our stomachs as her face hovers inches away from mine. Max momentarily glares up at me through thick eyelashes with her chin dramatically raised. All I can think about is how different she acts when she's buzzed. She also acts a lot more fun, that's for sure. It's definitely a sight I never thought I would see.

"And I can't believe I'm letting you have all the fun, you wasted sex monkey," I tease with a snarl and vigorously rustle my fingers through her hair.

Practically skipping to the other side of the room, I quickly take another gulp from the glass bottle and switch my stereo on in a quick motion.

I can definitely feel the alcohol warmly rushing through every inch of my body now that I'm unmoving, and I have to lounge on my chair in order to maintain how heavy my head feels. The idle silence between Max and I only lasts for a few minutes before I suddenly hear her solitarily burst into another fit of chuckles somewhere behind me.

When I crane my neck to face her, she's at a halt in front of my wide open closet door wearing my black leather jacket and a pair of neon sunglasses that are nearly sliding off her nose.

"What do you think? Am I 'Chloe' enough?" she asks smoothly while strangely positioning her hands into what appears to be a fake attempt at the shape of a gun.

"Well, if it isn't Mad Max," I announce as I push myself off the chair and stroll toward her. "Fuck, I don't even wear those shades. You look like a total hippie," I laugh and pull the glasses off her face, noticing thin strands of her hair now out of place and poking in all directions like a web.

"Bitch!" Max outbursts in a high pitched voice, pretending to be hurt. I perk my eyebrows at her shocking choice of words, even though it just came out sounding like a squeak or a hiccup.

Reaching up and burrowing my fingers in the top shelf of the closet, I swiftly pull out a navy blue cap and heavily wedge it on Max's head. "There. I think that's as close as you can get."

When I step back and look at her face, her bangs are pressed against her eyes and the hat rests completely crooked, looking as if it's ready to fall off. "Nah, I'm going to the hair salon tomorrow," she jokes while attempting to adjust it with both hands. "Dying my hair pink."

I make a twisted face at her mention and begin pacing behind her. "Is that so?" I ask, then snatch handfuls of her hair and emphatically pull up, letting it smoothly fall back down to her shoulders like a waterfall. "We could be like the punk ass twins. Everyone in Arcadia Bay will wish they were us." My voice sounds mesmerizing.

I begin chuckling at the ridiculous idea and step closer to the bed while I cross my arms in front of my stomach to pull off my tank top in a quick motion. I take my time to slide on Max's grey hoodie that she left burried in our pile of blankets and clothes on the bed.

"Oh, yeah," I observe while looking down at my new attire and pushing up the tight sleeves to my elbows. "I could totally rock this look."

Max scoffs between her teeth. "Please, you couldn't look like me even if you tried."

"I am trying," I whisper with posed desperation. "I've never tried so hard to do anything in my life."

She observes my figure with a fake disgusted expression on her face. "You look ridiculous," she says.

"Fuck you, I'm not the one with the oversized jacket," I attempt to insult her but only start giggling at myself mid-sentence. "You are way too small for that thing," I tell her and suddenly find myself flicking the jacket off her shoulders in a quick motion. The ends of her hair fan outward and she's smiling dreamily at me with her chin lifted.

Max reaches on the floor next to me for my white tank top that I discarded moments before and exchanges it with her pink one. As she struts away from me, her hands are playfully tugging at the hem of it and I can spot the pale skin of her stomach above her belt. She continues to make weird, high pitched 'ooh' noises for some reason and I notice that the shirt reaches far past her hips and almost her entire bra is visible through it.

"You look hot," I confidentally admit in a loud voice as if there are other people around to hear it. The cap is causing fractions of her hair to perfectly frame her face, and my tank top makes her appear ten times smaller than she is.

Now pointlessly standing at the other side of the room, she peers at me over her shoulder with a roll in her eyes. "You are so drunk."

My eyebrows crease together in anger and I holler at her, "you are!"

"At least I'm not standing around half naked!" Max argues before leaning on her side against the wall by my desk, trying desperately to remain standing upright. She's continously popping her knees and whimpering as if it is the hardest thing to do.

I instantly look down at myself and remember that I'm wearing nothing but a bra underneath Max's unzipped hoodie, exposing my entire stomach which is what she must be referring to as 'half-naked'. I conclude to myself that she is clearly exaggerating and quickly slide off my pajama shorts before she turns around again.

"Oh, shit!" she outbursts with wide eyes after catching sight of me.

"I am not half naked." I affirm with an entirely calm voice, nodding my head continuously.

"My eyes!" she continues to wail as if she is seeing a tragedy and limply presses the back of her hands to her face. "Put it away!"

I attempt to harshly shush her with a finger glued to my lips when she suddenly lets herself fall back onto the bed and lays there silently after bouncing for what seems like ages. For a moment I think she actually passed out. The cap now helplessly lies behind her head and there are pieces of hair still attached to it.

"You're being fucking loud right now." My voice is annoyed and careless.

Watching her intently with my arms heavily positioned on my hips, she momentarily shifts her hands on her face to peek up at me. It takes her a moment to realize that I'm actually behind her and she tilts her chin all the way back to look at me through the mess that is her splayed out hair.

"I swear, if somebody hears us," I begin to say as I hike a few steps to snatch the bottle of alcohol. "I'm holding you personally responsible, Caulfield." My finger accusingly jerks at her as I gulp down what's left of the bottle without breaking eye contact with her.