Hangovers are a bitch, aren't they? Of course, its the price you pay for the fun you have the night before, right?
"Hah. A Price is paying the price."
The little snort of laughter from my side surprises me, thin arms curling around me, pulling me tight to a bare chest.
"Max…?" The hope in my voice is audible.
A sigh, then the arms withdraw. With a creak of the springs, the other girl gets out of my bed and starts hunting around my room for her clothes.
Shit.
Its been nearly five years and I still can't get her out of my every fucking waking thought. My best friend, my sister, my first mate on the SS Pricefield…
… Look, we used to play Pirates. Long story. It made sense to us, I swear. She used to look so cute in that bandana, eyepatch barely covering the freckles scattered across her face.
I shook my head violently, trying to stop the memories from pouring back in. Memories of the day she left Arcadia Bay. The day she left me.
"I… I'm sorry, Beth." My voice sounds pitiful, weak even to me.
"I know, Chlo. Me too." The little blonde shrugs into her jacket, walks over to gently kiss my forehead, moving my hair out of my eyes.
*Flashback*
"Just go!"
Sitting at the top of stairs, body wrapped in an old hoodie of my dad's, sobbing into the lining, I made quite the fuckin' sight. Max stood at the bottom of the stairs, doing that arm holding thing she always does when she's upset.
"I'm sorry, Che… I..."
"The Fuck you are. FUCK OFF AND LEAVE!"
"I don't want to leave, Che, its not my choice."
"The hell it isn't! Fuck off, I never want to see you again!"
"Che, Please."
"Just go away. Please." My voice was hollow, broken. Fucking pathetic.
The minute her lips touch skin, a rough voice rings out from downstairs.
"Chloe Elizabeth Price, you get your ass down here right now, Soldier!"
Shit again. The step-douche is back. Probably seen the hella mess we made last night. We always were... athletic.
Beth leans her forehead against mine and exhales gently. "Guess I should be going, huh?"
I groan and pull myself out of bed to help her out the window. "I guess. Fucking Prick would kill me if he found that I'd been sneaking you up here."
She looks in at me from the windowsill and laughs. "Sneaking? Considering the mess we left downstairs, I don't really think sneaking is the word."
I smirked back. "You're probably right. Now scat, I gots to go antagonise the Fuhrer."
She gave a dapper little salute and flipped back off the roof. I love when she does that kinda shit. Perks of fucking a gymnast, right?
"I'm not kidding around, Chloe! Now!"
Yeesh. Hella pushy, right?
"I'm coming, I'm coming, yeesh, gimme a fucking second!"
I stumbled over to my door and pulled on some clothes. A random band tee and some jeans I had to crowbar myself into, then my laced up military boots and my trademark beanie.
I yanked open my door and thudded downstairs, swinging on the pole at the bottom and stumbling into the dining room.
The place was a mess, discarded clothes and shit everywhere. Beth and I can't help but make a mess when we hook up.
David was standing in the middle of the room, face red and that stupid little mustache of his wobbling as he raged back and forth.
"Damn it Chloe, this place is a tip! Your mother and I have to live here too, can't you think of somebody besides your useless delinquent self? A good soldier ALWAYS keeps their bunk tidy, why can't you?"
"'Cause I'm not a fucking soldier! I'm your step-daughter, asshole! If you care about my Mom at all like you fucking claim, why don't you stop treating us like a platoon of your damn troops or just fucking leave us the hell alone!"
He storms up to me, pushing my shoulder. "Useless fucking girl. You're good for nothing but making our lives harder. Your Mom's been through so much, can't you just try be tidy and good for once in your life?"
"Fuck this and fuck you, David."
He raises his big, meaty hand and slaps me across the face. Hard, too. I could feel the tears in my eyes.
I storm out, slamming the front door and stomping over to my truck.
Shit, fucking Nazi can't ever see reason! It's so not fair. Dad dies, then Max leaves, then Rachel fucking disappears, then I get stuck with that asshole!
Crap. I think I just ran a red light…
I swerve the truck and roll up the dirt path to American Rust, my home away from hell. David hates me coming up here. Thinks I'm gonna shoot up or cut myself on a rusty nail or some shit. Paranoid bastard.
I parked the truck and swung out of the cabin, heading over to the pile of scrap and junk that was American Rust. There was a little shack on one side of the place where Rachel and I hung out.
There was an old couch that Rachel had helped me pull in a couple years back. The thing was comfy as shit, but ugly as fuck. Kinda purpley-orange fabric.
I swung my arm down and grabbed the beer bottle next to it and took a long swig as I walked to the couch.
I fell down onto it, pulling off my beanie and running my hand through my hair, trying to throw off the old memories pouring back into my head. Shit I really didn't want to remember anymore.
The first few days after Max left were the hardest. Mom was still a wreck over Dad and I was lost and alone. I spent most of my time flipping between crying over Max and crying over Dad. Mom and I barely saw each other, both hiding and grieving our own way.
Mom slowly pulled herself together after that. Got back to work, started to realise that Dad wasn't coming back and this was the way the world was now. I… didn't.
I just ran away from everything, trying to feel something, anything that wasn't about Max or Dad. Booze, drugs, chicks, dudes, whatever it took. None of it really worked though. That shit filled the hole for a while, but it never helped for long. Until Rachel came along.
She was so... Alive, y'know? Made me feel almost like Max did. Like anything was possible and all that hopeful shit.
I... I...
Is my ass singing Sparklehorse?
Oh crap, my alarm. I nearly forgot. I had a party to get to. Some Vortex Bash they were throwing over at Blackhell. I was gonna go, nab some free drinks and maybe pick up a chick to bring home for some fun. Or hell, maybe two.
Time to blow this shitty joint, anyways. Memories aren't any fun.
I hopped up off the couch and wandered over to my truck, hopping in and gunning the engine for Blackhell. Made it there pretty quick, swinging onto the main road and pulling into the lot at the bottom of the school.
Could hear the music blaring in the gym from there. Loud, heavy beats that rattled my skull and pushed all the hella shitty thoughts right the fuck out. Normally, I wouldn't be caught dead at one of these parties, but needs must, right?
I hopped out of my ride and swung over to the main door, breezing past the little blonde chick on the desk, who kinda babbled at me. Cute, but no mere bouncer can stop the likes of Chloe Price!
Shit, everytime I come in here, I'm still struck by how fucking BIG the gym is. Place looks tiny as fuck from the outside, but inside, BOOM. Like a TARDIS. Well, it is supposed to have a swimming pool, right? Maybe this bit of it just got lost and landed in this shithole. Be about the only fucking cool thing to happen in this hellhole anyways.
The Vortex Douchebags had set up their little 'VIP zone' at one end of the gym, hidden behind the DJ and some hella tacky curtains. Oh look, yet another flunkie on the door. Well, curtain. The Party was a typical Vortex Club one. Bright lights, loud music, plenty of people, all hoping for a way into that exclusive VIP section.
The place was packed already by the time I got there. Kids dancing and macking on each other left, right and fucking centre. I pushed through the crowd and headed straight for the bar, grabbing a cold bottle of something from the bar and swinging across to a sofa, taking a swig from the bottle as I flopped down onto it.
Ew. Raspberry Cooler.
Crinkling my mouth up in disgust, I tossed the drink into a nearby bin and headed out on to the dance floor, hunting for tonight's distraction. Maybe a brunette tonight? Short brown hair, maybe a couple of freckles...
Max...
Nah, maybe a redhead. Get me some firecrotch.
I quickly found one. Leggy girl, pale skin, blue eyes. Alice or Alexa or some shit like that. After a couple more of those shitty beers, we were getting on pretty well, so I invited her back to my place, Price Charm, don't fail me now.
She giggled. "Sure. Just let me grab my coat."
I grinned.
Damn straight.
"Great. Just gimme a mo and I'll be right back. Meet you in the parking lot?"
She leaned in and kissed me. "See you there."
I rushed to the bathroom, only to find a tall blonde girl sitting in a pool of vomit, swearing and screaming at two other girls running around her like drunk idiots. Victoria Chase, pretty princess bitch queen of Blackwell and her cronies I forget the names of. Always gotta be the centre of attention, huh?
Well, shit. I don't have time for this. I'll just hold it till I get back home. Chloe Price, Bladder of Steel. I grinned and quickly headed over to the car park to meet my 'date'.
A sudden scream pulled me out of the little mental tune I was dancing along to as I walked. I looked around, trying to see what the fuck was happening. Looked in the lot and some blonde guy was trying to wrestle a girl into his car. Shit, is she drunk? She looks hella zoned.
Asshole.
Shit, I know I'm a bitch, but even I can't just sit by and watch that shit happen. I storm over and pull him off her.
He barks out. "What the fuck?"
Nathan Prescott. Shit. My fucking luck to interrupt the self-proclaimed King of Blackwell trying to rape a girl. I gritted my teeth, pulled back my arm, desperately trying to recall those three judo lessons Max and I had before she left. What was it the instructor said before I broke his damn nose?
Oh yeah.
I kicked him in the balls and then brought his head down onto my knee, breaking his nose with a nice, loud crack.
"You fucking bitch, do you know who I am? I will kill you!"
Posturing little prick. I hit him again, right hook right across the jaw. He fell to the ground and didn't get back up. Badass ninja skills, Price.
The girl had fallen against his car seat, groaning and whimpering, her eyes foggy, but still like, moving and shit. That was good, right? Meant she wasn't dead, at least. Her eyes fixed on mine and I could see the confusion. Asshole must've drugged her or something, just drunk doesn't do this to you.
"Hey, um. I'm Chloe. Don't worry, you'll be ok. I'll keep that asshole away from you." I said, gently, surprised at how soft my tone was. Not very badass punk now, are you Chlo?
I picked her up, bridal style, carrying her over to my truck. I put her down on the seat, carefully moving her head so it didn't hit anything. It'd be just my luck to rescue a girl and give her a concussion in the process.
I edged into my seat, turned my keys in the ignition and pulled out of my space, turning on the road to the hospital.
Shit. This was not gonna be fun. Hadn't been in a hospital since the day dad... I gave my head a violent shake. Not the best time for that Chloe, this girl is hella out of it. She might pass out or choke on her vomit or something and because I'm a dumbass, I'll screw it up and she'll die and it'll be my fault again!
Breathe, Price.
I took my first good look at my passenger then. She was a short girl, wearing a plain, but pretty little dress that went to just below the knee. A sundress, I think, but that shit was never my Mastermind subject. I wore jeans and tank tops for a fucking reason. Like I care about fashion tips from Cosmo magazine or whatever.
So, clearly not a Vortex groupie anyway, those slutbags were happy to wear dresses that barely covered their ass half the time.
She had a small cross necklace around her neck. Pale skin, pretty blue-brown (Hazel, that's called Hazel.) eyes, despite the whole drugged up look, she had an innocence to her that kinda reminded me of Max.
She'd be hella impressed with me. Taking on the big bad Prescott's to save some girl I didn't even know. She'd give me one of her sweet smiles and beam at me for hours.
Shit. I miss you so damn much, first mate.
The girl groaned and slurred in a light, airy voice, her eyes blinking owlishly at me.
"Wassat? Where we gooooing?"
"I'm taking you to the hospital, I think you got drugged or something."
"no, no, no. No hosp'tal. P'rnts will kill me!"
I sighed. Great.
Parents must be hella strict types or something. Fucking idiots that'd blame her for the Presc-shit drugging her. I know parent drama though, no way I'd put her through that if I could avoid it.
"Ok, fine, I'll take you back to my place. No hospital tonight."
"thnks Blue, you th'bessst." Her slurred best was accompanied by a raised finger, shakily prodding me as she grinned.
I couldn't help it. I grinned back.
"Its Chloe, but you're welcome. What's your name?"
"Kate. 'm Kate. An' you're Blue." She giggled, wafting at my hair.
If anything, my grin got bigger. What the fuck is wrong with me?
The house was empty when I got back, thank dog. No way I could get her past the Step-Fuhrer. I carried her up the stairs and gently placed her on my bed, wrapping her up with as many blankets as I could find. I think that's right? Vaguely remember House saying something about keeping patients warm, anyways.
Once I'd gotten her settled, I took the chair. I got hella snuggly when I'm asleep, don't think the girl would appreciate being groped in her sleep by a total stranger after what just happened, even if I did totally just save her life.
I dozed off pretty quickly, the booze and the stress tiring me out pretty damn well. I dreamt of freckles and brown hair, same as every damn night.