Thank you for reading my FanFiction novelization of Life is Strange. Before we begin however, I have a few things to adress. First, I have made several tweaks to the story. Max does not have time travel powers in this story. I decided to write it more grounded in reality like Before the Storm. Some may disagree with this change, but it was more of an experiment than anything. The story largely remains the same, with the exception of the Zeitgeist scene from episode 5 and parts of episode 4 being cut or altered. I also wrote this story with the best possible choices from the game written in. I hope you guys enjoy my FanFic and I look forward to any feedback you may have!
Chapter 1
All the Right Answers
Thunder rattled the air. The wind was loud and howling, slamming into everything in its path. Trees were toppling, and objects were flying in the shrieking storm. The rain pelted down so hard it felt like hail, and some of it was. The stairway leading to the lighthouse was dark, and obscured by sheets of rain. There, suddenly illuminated by a flash of lightning, lay a girl, about eighteen. She looked unconscious, but nobody came for her. She slowly opened her eyes and looked into the dark and stormy wood. The girl shook her head, and looked up, before struggling to her feet. 'Where am I?' she thought. She was a thin, pretty girl, with soft brown hair that was short, but not too short, reaching down to her neck. She wore a pair of lightly colored blue jeans that matched the color of her eyes. Her face was kind looking, not wild at all, and some may even call it melancholy, even if they couldn't explain why. Soaked to her skin, she got up. 'How did I get here,' she wondered, 'and where is "here"?' She looked around, trying to gain any kind of direction. Suddenly she looked, 'There's the lighthouse,' she thought, 'I'll be safe if I can make it there…I hope. Please God, let me make it there.' She covered her eyes with her hand as if protecting them from the sunlight. Continuing up to the lighthouse, she strained against the immense power of the wind; it seemed unstoppable. The rain stung against her hands and face like a hundred bees. She could just make out the wooden steps leading to the lighthouse, which would suddenly be lit up by a vicious flash of lightning, followed by the cracking roar of thunder behind it. After a while, she made it to the top. The lighthouse, which warned seafarers of the craggy rocks below it, stood atop an outcropping that jutted out beyond the rest of the cliff edge. It had always been a proud overseer of Arcadia Bay in the Pacific coast of Oregon. She looked up over the bay. "Oh…" was all she could say. In the middle of the bay was a tornado. A massive waterspout so unimaginably vast, it took up most of the harbor, sucking in everything in its wake. It was the thing responsible for the gigantic storm, and it was the largest tornado the girl had ever seen. She looked over Arcadia Bay. It was about to be engulfed by the tornado, which was plowing right for it. She tried to move, but suddenly a boat, which had been totally blown up out of the water by the storm, slammed into the top of the lighthouse. The bricks and mortar of the lighthouse gave way, and the top half of the lighthouse began to tip over. "No! No!" shouted the girl, who tried to run, before the lighthouse top landed right on her.
"Woah!" The girl lifted her head to find herself in photography class. It was as if nothing had happened. She looked nervously around. She had remembered coming to class today, but she hadn't remembered going into the lighthouse trail. 'I must've been dreaming,' she thought to herself, 'but that was too real…how…' Suddenly the voice of her teacher began to resound in her ears. It was Mark Jefferson, a hipster through and through who always wore a clean white shirt, with a black suit over top, and grey pants. He had a spiked haircut, and eyeglasses with white rims. He was usually cool and casual, and extremely confident. The girl had always wondered why he wore white rims. Mr. Jefferson had a tendency to ramble when he talked, and today's subject was about the history of photography. "Alfred Hitchcock called film, 'little pieces of time', but he could be talking about photography as he likely was." Mr. Jefferson looked as if he hadn't noticed or cared that Max had just fallen asleep…and yet, when she woke up her head wasn't down. She hadn't been asleep at all, and nobody was even looking at her. She began to drown out Mr. Jefferson's voice to again rethink what had just happened to her. 'Alright. I'm fine. I'm in class. It's alright Max it's alright.' Max took a deep breath. 'I didn't fall asleep, and that sure didn't feel like a dream…' She looked at the class, whose eyes were all on Mr. Jefferson. She saw a wad of paper fly across the room and hit one of Max's new friends, Kate Marsh. Max angrily looked over to where the paper had come from, and she could see Taylor snickering. Taylor was from a group of popular, but extremely unkind girls that had formed a sort of "in-club," of which Max was pushed out. Maybe it was because she was different, or "geeky," as she would sometimes say, but it was most likely because Max had said unabashedly that she was a Christian, and they certainly weren't. Kate Marsh was also a Christian, and wasn't afraid to say it either. Kate looked over at Taylor, than at Max, who threw her a smile. Kate didn't smile back. 'That's weird,' thought Max, 'Kate usually smiles back…' Kate was Max's age and height, and she wore her hair in a neat pinned up style. She wore what some would call "overly modest," clothes, and she had a gold crucifix necklace. Her voice was higher pitched than Max's, but always kind and quiet. She was usually a bright, cheerful, gentle, kind person, if not a little bit shy, but today she looked like something awful had happened to her. Max suddenly began to hear the teacher again, as his voice was interrupted by that of Victoria, the leader of the in-crowd. "She painted portraits of people in darkness, that all looked as if in despair. It's totally haunted." Mr. Jefferson nodded, "And it's true. I could take a picture of any one of you in a dark room in a moment of desperation, and you could do the same to me." Victoria wore only the best, most stylish clothes, and used only the finest camera. She had brown eyes, and a small mouth, and, though popular with the people on the upper-shelf, she looked down upon anybody else. Max tuned out the class again. It wasn't that she disliked the history of photography, she just really disliked having to sit and listen to Mr. Jefferson drone on. He wasn't a bad man, just a little bit too talky for her tastes sometimes. It really depended on the subject whether Max listened or not, though she would say that Mr. Jefferson was her favorite teacher. Max took up her instant camera, an oldie that had been her father's when he was a kid. It was a classic Polaroid that printed the pictures once they were taken. She pointed the camera at herself and shot. The picture printed, and she waved it in the air a bit to cool it off. Suddenly she realized that Mr. Jefferson was talking about her. "See class, I believe Max has just taken what you young people call a selfie," he said the word selfie with a tone of condescension. "A dumb word for a wonderful photographic tradition, and Max has a gift. As you know taking photo portraits has been popular since cameras were first invented in the 1800's." Max knew that taking a selfie at any other class would get her landed in detention, but Mr. Jefferson was far more lax than most other teachers. Max was also flattered by Mr. Jefferson's praise, though she wondered how he was supposed to know she had a gift simply because she took a selfie just then. He looked at Max and said, "Now Max, since you clearly want to join the conversation, can you give us the name of the process that gave birth to the first…self…portraits?" Max wondered why he slowed up on the last few words, as if she couldn't understand them. But she quickly forgot as her worst fear began to bubble up: The entire class was staring at her. Max had an introverted personality, and tended towards shyness, being comfortable only with her family or best friends, of which she had few here. Her eyes darting around to meet everybody she blurted out, "Oh, uh, you're asking me? Let me think…um…" Max nearly jumped out of her seat when Mr. Jefferson slapped the table with his hand and said in a voice louder than it needed to be, "You either know this, or you don't Max!" he sighed, "Does anybody here know their stuff?" As Max expected, Victoria piped up, "Louis Daguerre was a French painter who created Daguerreotypes, to give portraits a reflective quality, like a mirror." Mr. Jefferson nodded, and Victoria looked at Max triumphantly, before saying "Now you're totally stuck in the Retro Zone. Sad face." Max wasn't so much bothered by the pitiful insult itself, but that she just had to say it. Using an emoji in a real life conversation? Only Victoria. Mr. Jefferson then began going into tedious detail about the history of Daguerreotypes. After about twenty minutes, the school bell rang loudly, and Max breathed a sigh of relief. Everybody fled the classroom as if being in there one more second would make them slaves forever. Everybody, except Victoria. She stayed. There was an event going on called Everyday Heroes. Mr. Jefferson had put it on to celebrate photography. Each student could enter their best work, and whoever had the best picture would win a trip to a special art showcase in San Francisco with all the bigwigs of the photography and art world. Victoria was there to butter Mr. Jefferson up, show him her picture, and beg on bended knee for her picture to be selected. It made Max's eyes roll, but she had to talk to Mr. Jefferson as well, and she counted what she had to say as more important, even though she always felt nervous approaching Mr. Jefferson. She took a deep breath and piped up, "Excuse me, Mr. Jefferson, could I talk to you for a moment?" "Yes, excuse you!" snapped Victoria. Mr. Jefferson however stood up for Max, "No Victoria," he said firmly, "Excuse us. I'd never let one of Blackwell Academy's best students be prevented from handing in her picture." The thing was, Max didn't have a picture she wanted to hand in, and she had come to ask Mr. Jefferson to give her a bit more time to hand it in. She had taken a picture she had considered using, but was having second thoughts. "Uh, do I have to…right now?" "Max," said Mr. Jefferson with a smile, "I know it's real boring to hear some old guy like me lecture you, but you're truly a great photographer. You have a gift, the world is yours, blah, blah, blah, right? You just need to have the courage to show your talent to the world and not be embarrassed about any of it. That's what separates the artist from the amateur. Don't be afraid of me or any of the classmates making fun of your photo. There is no such thing as a wrong piece of art. I'll give you until the end of the week, but please hand your photo in. I would love to show it to the world." Max felt a little better, and once she saw Victoria begin tapping her fingernails into the table, she left. Forgetting she had left some of her papers at her desk she went back to get them, and suddenly noticed that Kate was still at her desk. "Hey Kate." Max said happily. Kate looked up from her work, smiling weakly, "Oh, hi Max," she said. Max addressed the elephant in the room, "You seem quiet today. Anything the matter?" Kate looked down, than back at Max, "Just thinking too much." It was a fake excuse, and Max could feel it. "Want to grab a cup of tea or coffee at the coffee shop today?" Kate shook her head, "Sorry I can't. I have too much homework I'm overdue on." Max nodded, "Alright, well let's get together later." "Sure." Kate said simply before going back to her work. She began leaving the classroom, before taking one more look at the entries other people had made in the event. There were some beautiful photos of Arcadia Bay, and some of the pictures of the forest gave Max the goosebumps thinking of her nightmare she had just had.
Opening the door, Max thought to herself, 'Welcome to the real world…,' The school hallway was bustling with students all leaving class, meeting up with each other, and going back to their dormitories. There were dozens of people Max could name, but few she could call real friends. She had always had such a hard time fitting in, and she didn't have a lot of stuff going for her. She tended towards shyness, she loved things that most people would consider boring, she disliked many of the popular trends that the school's in-crowd found irresistible, and she was also a Christian, and not ashamed to say so. That was how she had begun her relationship with Kate Marsh. She had been much more accepting of Max at first, and had taken Max to the coffee shop a few times. Max loved being able to spend time with another Christian girl that had a very similar personality to herself. Kate was a dedicated churchgoer, and she and Max went to the same church, within walking distance of Blackwell Academy. Max had moved back to Arcadia Bay to attend Blackwell Academy, one of the most prestigious photography and art schools in the country. She had once lived in Arcadia Bay, but moved to Seattle Washington with her mother and father. Looking around, she unlocked her phone, and put on some music. After putting on her earbuds, she quietly slipped into bliss, listening to her favorite music, simple acoustical tunes. No hard rock for her. No indeed. The sounds of students gossiping back and forth melted into the sounds of gentle guitar music. She looked at herself in a window. 'I need to head to the restroom and splash some water on my face so I don't look like a total loser.' She thought to herself. She began heading in that direction. Even before she entered the lobby, she saw Logan bullying a student. She looked at him and frowned. Trying to stop him was futile. She sighed and continued on, upset she couldn't do anything, but not knowing what to do. Continuing down the hall she passed Hayden, who waved at her. She waved back. All of the big shot students were members of the Vortex Club, which was the top of the tree, the upper shelf, the be-all-end-all, of coolness at Blackwell. It was an exclusive and elite club, which only the coolest, hippest students could ever hope to enter. If you were a member, you gained access to wild and lavish parties, as well as the respect of nearly every student at Blackwell. You could also finally escape the taunts and disrespect you received about not being in the club, from club members. She entered the restroom and looked at one of the mirrors. It had a crown, with Groucho glasses drawn on it. She smiled and shook her head, before moving on to the next sink. She turned on the spigot and splashed some water on her face, before drying her face off, and looking at her photo. She had taken one before the Everyday Heroes event, but she was embarrassed to show it to anybody. It was a photo of her that more than a few people would call beautiful indeed. It showed her, with her backed turned to the camera, looking at her wall of photos. In her dorm, she had tacked up dozens of photos, with round paper lamps strung across it. Looking at it, she felt as if it was a worthless piece of garbage. She sighed, "Forget it," she said, before tearing the picture in two. She sighed, and looked over to the other end of the restroom. She saw a blue butterfly flutter down from the wall. It slowly descended down to a janitor's bucket in a corner. She slowly took out her camera and snapped the picture. The butterfly fluttered away. The photo came out the front and after cooling it off, she looked at it. 'Now here's a photo I can show Mr. Jefferson.' Max thought to herself. She was just about to head out when the door opened. She was hidden inside the janitor's corner, and peeked out from behind the wall. The person inside was somebody that had no business being in the women's restroom at all. It was Nathan Prescott, son of the owners of the school. 'Why is he in here?!' Max thought to herself. She got even more uneasy when Nathan began talking frantically to himself. "It's OK Nathan…It's alright don't stress. Just count to three man, just count to three. Don't be scared. You own this school. If you wanted to you could blow it up! You're the boss." Max cringed. She had always steered clear of Nathan, but this was beyond a little bit strange, Max wondered if Nathan really was a psychopath as some had said. Nathan's father Sean was not only the near owner of the school, but almost the owner of Arcadia Bay itself. They were an extremely rich family, and Nathan Prescott was a popular, but very, very unstable person. He was not only incredibly mean, worse than Victoria, but he also had some mental problems that made him extremely unpredictable. The door opened again, and in stepped a girl Max didn't recognize, but there was something about her…Max wondered if they had ever met before, although she knew the girl wasn't from the school. She was about Nathan's height, about five and a half feet tall, only a bit taller than Max. She had short blue dyed hair that went down to her neck, with a navy ski cap. She had a white tank top on with a black biker jacket on top of it, with tattered blue jeans. Her face was confident, and she had strong green eyes. "What do you want?" Nathan snapped at the girl. The girl rolled her eyes, and checked the stalls to make sure nobody was listening. She spoke, "I hoped you checked the perimeter as my step-troll would say. Now let's talk business." "I got nothing." Nathan said. "Wrong," said the girl, "You got a ton of cash." Nathan shook his head, "My family. Not me." The girl rolled her eyes, "Oh boo-hoo poor little rich kid. I know you've been selling drugs and crap to kids around here. I bet your oh-so-respectable family would help me out if I went to them. Man, I can see the headlines now." Nathan, staring into the sink, said in a snarling tone of voice, "Leave them out of this," he swore at her. The girl said, pushing Nathan, "I can tell everybody the high and mighty Nathan Prescott is a punk loser who begs like a little girl and talks to himself-" Nathan stood up and said, "You don't know who I am, or who you're messing around with!" He held up a pistol. Raising her hands in panic, the girl said, "Where'd you get that?" Nathan pressed the girl's neck up to the bathroom wall with one hand, and put the pistol to her ribs with the other. With wild eyes he said, "Don't ever tell me what to do! I'm so sick of people trying to control me!" "You're going to get in a heap more trouble with this than drugs!" said the girl. Nathan said with a twisted grin, "Nobody would even miss your punk face now would they?!"Max looked frantically for a way where she could distract Nathan without being noticed. She looked and saw the fire alarm. She pulled the lever, and the alarm began to blare. Nathan looked behind him, "No way!" he shouted. The girl shoved Nathan away and said with rage in her eyes, "Don't ever touch me again, freak!" before running out the door. Max was unbelieving. 'That didn't happen,' she thought to herself, 'This cannot be real!' Nathan Prescott was known to have some serious anger issues, but pulling a gun on another student? Guns weren't even allowed on school grounds unless you were a security officer. She began walking out the door. As soon as she opened it, a man got right up in her face. It was David Madsen, the school security guard. "Hey!" he shouted, "You hear that alarm?! That means you need to move yourself outside!" Startled, Max said, "Oh, yeah, sorry, I had to use the bathroom." Mr. Madsen looked suspicious, "Students always use that excuse." "Excuse for what?" asked Max, "For whatever bad things you're doing! Your face is covered in guilt!" Max tried to lose him, "Sorry!" she said, "The alarm tripped me out!" Mr. Madsen grunted and said, "Well then trip on outa here Missy! Or are you hiding something? Huh!? Been doing drugs in there?" Max panicked, "No! I was just-" "You were just what?!" Max then heard the voice of Principal Wells. "Thank you Mr. Madsen. The situation is under control. Please leave Ms. Caulfield alone and turn off that alarm, since that's your job." Mr. Madsen gave Max just one more look with angry narrowed eyes, before marching off to turn of the alarm. David Madsen was a tall, muscular man, with a small moustache and stubbly goatee and a short black army haircut. He was a retired army Sargent, and he had gone on several brutal missions during the Iraqi Desert Storm. One of which resulted in a horrible wound in his ankle, and the death of one of his best buddies, due to a terrorist planted landmine. The incident gave him a severe case of PTSD, and though he had come back to the world of the living, he had never really gotten over it, being anxious or suspicious of nearly everybody and everything. Max sighed, shook her head, and headed over to thank Principal Wells. She went over to the principal, a tall African American in his middle-forties with the body of an NFL Linebacker. In fact, he had played college football before he went to school to be a teacher. He was an all-around fair principle, although he had the tendency to give credit where it wasn't due. Principle Wells looked at Max and said, "You look a little stressed out. You OK?" Max said quietly, "I'm just worried about my…future." Principle Wells narrowed his eyes and took a step closer, " Is that all you're thinking about? You can always be upfront with me Max. Or have you done something wrong? Talk to me." Max knew that reporting Nathan wouldn't be a wise thing to do. First of all, the Prescott's owned Blackwell Academy, and the thought of a student accusing their son wouldn't go over very well at all. Especially with Nathan at large. She knew that Nathan would have something to say about her knowing. After all, he had the nerve to point a gun at a normal girl, let alone a girl that accused him of a crime. Her life would be in serious danger. Besides, she knew the Principal wouldn't do anything about it. No. "Uh, I just got sick in class." Principal Wells looked suspicious. "Are you sure? Don't think that's the first time anybody's used that excuse on me. I know what goes on here." Max was amazed how quickly Principal Wells went from being a friend to an interrogator. "I just got sick." Max said, "It happens you know." Principal Wells looked at her once again. "I'm going to have to let your parents know about this." Max didn't even bother talking against it. When it came to Principal Wells, resistance was futile. Sighing, she walked out the door and onto the main campus. 'I have to go back to my dorm.' She thought, and then, after taking a deep breath, she went down the steps to the commons. Walking onto the commons just outside the entrance to the school, Max looked around. The common was a grassy park with benches, and broad shade trees with students either taking photos of the numerous birds, or drawing, sketching, or painting either other students or their surroundings. There was a large fountain in the center of the commons, and symmetrical pathways leading in each direction from it. As she stepped down from the steps, she noticed a missing person's poster. It showed a girl, age 19 according to the poster. She was named Rachel Amber, and Max couldn't help but feel haunted by the picture. 'Rachel Amber…' thought Max, 'She looks so hopeful and pretty. I wonder what happened to her.' Indeed the girl in the picture was a beauty. The poster had been simply left on the steps, and Max looked for the pin board where the school put up news bulletins. She was shocked the see the entire pin board was covered in over twenty Rachel Amber posters. There was an additional twenty scattered on the ground. Max was alarmed and confused. Who had put up all these posters? Whoever it was must've been an incredibly close person to Rachel. Max left the pin board and walked over to the commons. She heard a voice call her name. It was Ms. Grant, a friendly and good-natured African-American woman who Max loved most out of her teachers. "Max!" she called. Max turned, and smiling, walked over. "Yes Ms. Grant?" Ms. Grant held out a clip-board and said, "Now I know nobody likes signing petitions, but would you do Ms. Grant a favor and hear me out?" "Sure," Max said, "I always have time for you. What's the petition?" Ms. Grant talked as if she was outraged, "David Madsen, our head of security wants to put security cameras all over the campus. Halls, classrooms, gym, dorm rooms; Blackwell Academy should be a high-school, not a penitentiary." Max knew that there were already security cameras on the outside of the campus, but anywhere else seemed unneeded. David Madsen Max knew was a paranoiac, as he demonstrated to Max as she left the restroom. He had even accused her of doing drugs when he had no proof. "That's crazy!" Max said, "I get why high schools should be on high alert these days…but security cameras in the dorm rooms?" "It's a slippery slope," said Ms. Grant, "And it's up to the students to make a change. Now would you mind please signing this petition to keep our school from going back to 1984?" Max took the pen and signed, "I don't mind security," she said, "But not pure surveillance." Ms. Grant smiled and said, "I knew you were my favorite student at Blackwell for a reason." She smiled and walked off. Walking over to her dorm her cell phone buzzed. It was Warren, one of Max's friends. Warren was what some people would call a nerd, though he had a good heart, and a crush on Max. Warren had texted Max, it read, "Hey Max. Mind giving me back my flash drive? I need it for computer class. Thx." She nodded. Warren had given her his flash drive with his photos on it for her to look at. She began texting back, "Srry, Running late. Insane day." She sent it and waited for him to text back. A few moments later and he did, "I'll meet you in the parking lot." "See you shortly." She texted before pocketing her phone and heading off to the dorms. As she walked, she saw Stella sitting on one of the benches. Though Max didn't know her very well, they had waved to each other, and Max thought Stella was one of the nicer people at Blackwell. She walked up to her, "Hey Stella." She said. "Hey I know you," she said, "You're the new quiet girl in Mr. Jefferson's class. Isn't he incredible?" "Not sure yet," replied Max, "I mean he's clearly a genius, but I can't say I agree with everything he says." Stella shrugged, "Yeah, he can get a bit pretentious, but he's passionate about art and says what he thinks." A pause ensued, and then Stella brought up Rachel Amber's missing person's posters. "Have you seen all the posters for Rachel Amber popping up everywhere? I just noticed them this week." Max decided to get a bit of information. "Did you know Rachel Amber?" Stella shook her head, "Not really. She hung out with all the cool kids at Blackwell. Not my kind of group. I have heard insane stories about her though…Well I have to head in for a class now. See you around." "See you later." With that, they parted, and Max continued to the dorms, admiring the talented workmanship of some of the art pieces on display. Some were by the more talented students, some by the teachers, including a piece by Mr. Jefferson. She kept walking and met Hayden, one of the Vortex Club's top members. "What's up Hayden?" she asked. Hayden looked up, smiled and said, "Well if it isn't the retro-selfie master herself. How's it going Max?" "Alright," she replied. "You seem relaxed, as usual Hayden." "Hayden nodded, "It's a skill one cultivates at Blackwell. Especially if you represent the Vortex Club. Not to boast." Max was tired of the enigma surrounding the Vortex Club, and if anybody could fill her in, it was Hayden. "What the heck's the Vortex Club anyway? Seems so elitist." Hayden replied, "Only if you aren't cool enough to get in, and it sure doesn't hurt your resume." "If you say so." Max said not sure what else to say. "You should come hang with us one night, maybe then you won't need to wonder so much." "Hang with the Vortex Club?" asked Max, "That sounds like a setup to a horrible prank." Hayden shook his head, "Chill paranoia girl, we're not that desperate for fun. We know how to do that on our own." Max wondered if Hayden knew anything about Rachel Amber, "It seems weird to party with all those Rachel Amber posters up." Hayden looked off into the distance, as if remembering. "Yeah Rachel used to party with us too. She was a blast. Smart, not mean like…you know who." "What do you think happened to her?" asked Max. Hayden looked at the ground, "Oh…Well whatever happens to people who disappear without a trace." "Did Victoria like Rachel?" asked Max, "She seems like the jealous type." Hayden shook his head, "I don't think you know Victoria so well. She respected Rachel, even if he didn't act like it." "So Rachel was a member of the Vortex Club?" asked Max. Hayden opened his eyes wide, as if Max had uttered something taboo. "Oh, no!" said Hayden with a tone of respect in his voice, "Rachel was like her own club. She was even too cool for us, and I'll deny I ever said that…Well she had been elected one time to represent the Vortex Club, right before she went missing. I represent it now, but I'm pretty sure Nathan Prescott's going to win next election." Now with total distrust of Nathan, Max said, "Are you sure you want Nathan Prescott to represent the Vortex Club?" Hayden waved Max off, "Oh please," he said, "Nathan's like everybody's voodoo doll. 'Kill the rich kid!' He's a fun guy to hang with. Screw the haters!" "Seems a bit unstable." Retorted Max. Hayden shrugged, "Nathan has his extreme moments, but don't we all?" "I don't know Hayden. Well, I got to go give a flash drive to my friend. Let's talk later." "Alright Max I'll see you around. We should get you out one night." Max smiled and walked off. She liked how Hayden could still be nice to people despite being in the prestigious Vortex Club. Most club members treated non-club members with all the respect of stale bread. Walking over to the dorms, she met Victoria, Courtney and Taylor all sitting on the steps, blocking her way. Not wanting to pick a fight, she walked up, "Excuse me Victoria." Victoria looked up and smirked before getting up and walking in front of Max. "Well if it isn't Max Caulfield. The laughing stock of Blackwell. Well I guess it works out for you since Mr. Jefferson falls for your bull crap. Too bad you couldn't get the answer right in class today. I guess you still need to get your meds filled." She sat back down on the steps. "Since you know all the answers you're going to have to find another way into the dorm. We ain't moving." Max looked at the ground, with one arm holding her other against her side. "Oh, hold that pose!" Victoria said before snapping a photo with her phone, "Don't worry Max, I'll put a vintage filter over it before I post it all over Facebook. Now, why don't you go burn your selfie?" With that, she refused to look back at her. Max did know the answer to other entrances, and that was that there wasn't one. The only other entrance was the fire escape, and she didn't feel like setting off another fire alarm. She did have an idea. She walked over to the gardeners shack. She passed Samuel, the gardener and maintenance worker for Blackwell. She walked into the shack, which Samuel seldom kept locked, and looked around for some way to get them off the steps. That's when she saw the sprinkler system. Snickering, she turned them on. On the steps, water began spraying all over Victoria. "Oh!" shouted Victoria, "You're kidding me! This cashmere is soaked! Do you know how much this freaking outfit cost?! It's ruined!" Courtney and Taylor did their best to comfort Victoria, but all she had to say in return was, "Alright already! Just get me a towel right now!" The two girls went inside to get a towel, and Victoria sat back on the steps, soaked to the skin, her hair dripping, sitting in a puddle on the steps. The sprinkler system sat right outside the steps, so anybody near there would get soaked. It was something that many students had complained about, though not much was to be done about it. She walked over back to the steps and met Victoria. "What do you want Max?" she asked, frustrated. Max suddenly felt badly about what she had just done. 'Maybe I shouldn't've done that…' Max thought to herself. Max said, "I am sorry. That's an awesome cashmere coat." Victoria's face softened a bit. "It was…But there will be another." "You certainly know how to pick the right outfits," said Max. "You have talent. Mr. Jefferson told me. You have a great eye for pictures." Victoria actually smiled, "He's one of my heroes. Thanks Max." Victoria sighed and said impatiently, "I hope those idiots hurry up and get me a towel already." She then took her phone from off the railing and said, "You deserve a better shot. Sorry about blocking you, and the go burn your selfie." Max smiled, "That was mean…but pretty funny. I'll see you later Victoria." With that, Victoria replied, "Au revoir," before scooting out of Max's way. Max felt much better about herself, 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.' thought Max. It was the best Bible verse Max could think of for that situation, and once again, the Bible proved right.
Entering the girl's dormitories, Max hurried up to her dorm to get the flash drive, she had been goofing off for long enough. She went down the halls, passing Courtney and Taylor, who said frantically, almost to herself that to anyone else, "Oh Victoria is going to be ticked we took so long!" before disappearing out the door. There were dry erase slates outside each of the dormitories, and each person in the dorm usually wrote outside it. She passed several slates before coming to Kate's. The slate outside her dorm wasn't written by her. It said, "Jesus freak lives here," after which was written, "ha, ha, ha," Max was offended. 'This is just mean and stupid!' thought Max as she erased the message, and wrote instead, "God is love." This was why Max admired Kate Marsh. Kate knew perfectly well about the horrible, and cruel things students wrote on her slate, but she didn't get angry or resentful about it. She never accused anybody of writing anything, and she forgave freely anybody that did. She had said often that Jesus said that Christians would be persecuted, and if this was all she had to deal with, she would count herself lucky. Max shared her view, but was a bit more reluctant to show it. If somebody would write that outside her door, she would have a chip on her shoulder long after Kate would. Continuing down the hall, she reached her dorm, and suddenly realized she had nothing on her slate. She hadn't written on it for quite a long time. She looked at it and thought, 'How sad…I didn't write anything. I have nothing to say.' She took up the dry erase marker and thought…still nothing came to her, so she drew her name, and a rather pitiful big-headed stick figure below it. She chuckled and shook her head before entering her dorm. She stepped in, took a deep breath, and closed the door. She looked around. Her dorm wasn't messy, but clean and neat, her bed in a corner, and a desk on the other side. A point of discussion for anybody who visited her dorm was the wall above her bed. It was covered with photographs of everything from herself, to animals, plants, her family, friends, and anything in-between. There were at least fifty photos pinned to the wall, and Chinese style round paper lamps strung around them. It was something that Max would stare at for long hours. Remembering. There was a guitar propped up against the desk, and she would play it sometimes, though not as often as she liked. Aside from her photo wall, there were pictures of her favorite band albums, most of which were Christian acoustical, as well as other photos. She was just about to start looking for the flash drive when her phone buzzed. She expected it to be Warren texting her again, but it was her mother instead. She was calling her. Max answered, "Hi Mom!" Max said. Her mother answered, "Hey Max! How are you doing?" Max sighed and said, "Well…I'm alright." Her mom said, "Hon, I just got an e-mail from your principal…I'm not yelling at you at all, I'm just a bit worried. He expressed his concerns that you're not fitting in well, you're hiding out in your dorm…Are you alright?" Max looked down and said, "No…I'm alright…Don't worry about me, it's just so hard to fit in at a place like this. Nobody here understands me like you do. They're all just so high-up and rich…I just feel like such a geek." Max's mom laughed on the other end and said, "Max, I love you! It doesn't matter to me or God how you look. I trust you'll do the right thing. Have you made any friends there at all?" Max replied, "Yes I have. There's this wonderful girl here named Kate Marsh. She's a Christian like me, and we've gone out for coffee a few times. A few other people, just nobody like Chloe." Chloe had been Max's best friend as a kid. She and Chloe had been akin to sisters when they were kids, doing all kinds of things together, but then, Chloe's dad William died in a car wreck, and Chloe had never quite been the same. Only a few weeks after the tragedy, Max and her parents had moved to Seattle Washington, and Max had sent a few calls, before falling off the face of the earth, not sending a single call or text. It wasn't that she didn't care about Chloe anymore, but that she had almost become a completely different person, no longer a carefree and life loving person, but a hardened and unforgiving one. Max was almost scared to call her now, it being almost a full five years since she had seen or talked to her. What made it worse was that Chloe lived in Arcadia Bay, and she still hadn't made an effort to let Chloe know that she was at Blackwell Academy. "I know sweetie," Max's mom said, "I know you miss Chloe. Doesn't she still live in Arcadia Bay?" Max sighed guiltily, "Yes…" she said slowly, "Then go call her!" Max's mother said cheerfully, "I'm sure she'd be over the moon to see you!" "I'm not so sure…" Max said. "Max…" her mom said softly, "You need to stop being so afraid of everything. I know it's hard being in a school on your own so far away. If you need to come home than just say so." Max shook her head, "No, I don't want to do that, you've spent so much on tuition here already. I'll just stick it out." There was a pause, before her mom said, "OK then. If you ever need to chat I'm here." Max smiled, "Alright mom. Love you." "I love you too," her mom replied, before they said their goodbyes. Max smiled and put her phone back in her pocket. If there was one thing she could thank God for, it was her parents. Loving, generous, and understanding, they were the greatest gifts Max could've asked for, and being an only child, without any brothers or sisters to love, it only attached her more and more to her wonderful parents. Some of her fondest memories was listening to her dad reading stories about anything from the Bible, to nature books. Cooking with her mom, who was as good a cook as she was a listener. She sighed, and began hunting for the flash drive. She had a cubby where she kept some of her stuff, right next to her closet. She looked around there, opening the drawer, pushing aside a tin of cookies, No sign of it. She looked in her small chest of drawers in the other half of the room. She opened the drawer and after digging around, Max suddenly realized it had been nearly a half an hour since she last texted Warren. Just as the thought went across her head, her phone buzzed. Dreading who it was, she looked, and the text read, "I don't mind waiting here forever. I love this parking lot. I can count all the cars. Look, there's a blue one. Seriously Max where are you?" Max texted back, "The more I txt the longer I take. On my way." Warren buzzed again, "I hope so…" She frantically searched her dorm but it wasn't there. Then she suddenly realized she had given it to Dana, one of her friends, so she could watch some movies on it while she studied. She went over to her dorm and knocked. "Who is it?" said the voice inside, "Hey Dana! It's me Max!" After a few seconds the door opened, "Hi Max," said Dana, "Need anything?" Max replied, "Oh, uh, do you still have my flash drive?" Dana walked over to her laptop and took it out, "Here you go." She said cheerily as she handed it to Max. "How's your day been going?" Dana asked. Max shrugged, "It feels like it's been going on forever." Dana huffed, "I know…I've been doing math all stinking day." Max smiled. Dana was a perpetually joyful cheerleader, who could put a smile on anybody's face. She was pretty, tall, and brown eyed, although she had a tendency to be a bit of a drama queen. "I have to give this back to Warren, he's been waiting in the parking lot for half an hour." Dana raised an eyebrow, "What've you been doing to keep him waiting Max? Oh well, don't let me hold you up, we can hang out later." Max smiled, "It's about time too," They said their goodbyes and Max went off to the parking lot, she had wasted enough time, and she rushed out of the dormitories. She passed Alyssa sitting on a bench in the Blackwell Commons. Alyssa was a nice girl, although she preferred to be alone with a book than with anything or anybody else. She had the self-defense instincts of a manatee, and was the kind of person that bullies sharpen their teeth on. It made Max sad. She was reading when one of the jocks from the school football team, the Bigfoots, screwed up royally on his throw just as Max was passing. Max said quickly, "Hey! Alyssa! Move your head!" Alyssa moved her head and said, "Whatever you say Max." The football nearly missed Alyssa's head and shattered a window in the school building. The jock fled, and Alyssa looked at Max. "How did you do that?" she asked, Max said, "I could tell he was about to make an awful throw." After watching numerous Bigfoot games, she certainly could tell. Alyssa looked impressed, "Well thanks Max." she said. Max replied, "No problem," before walking off. 'That's what I'm talking about!' thought Max, 'I've actually helped somebody.' She was just about to enter the main campus, when she heard a raised voice. "So don't think I don't know what goes on here! Do you understand me young lady?!" It was David Madsen, harassing Kate Marsh. Kate looked terrified, "No, and leave me alone." Said Kate with a scared tone of voice. Max whipped out her camera, and took a quick photo, knowing it would come in handy later, then she intervened, "Hey! Why don't you leave her alone?" Max was appalled that Mr. Madsen would have the nerve to bully or harass students for no reason, just as he had done to Max herself already. "Excuse us," said Mr. Madsen, "But this is official campus business!" "Excuse me," Max retorted, "But you shouldn't be yelling at students or bullying them!" "I'm not bullying anybody," said Mr. Madsen, "I'm just doing my job!" "No you're not." Max said back. "You're part of the problem missy," said Mr. Madsen angrily, "I will remember this conversation." Kate and Max watched as he stomped off. When he was gone, Kate went over to Max, a broad smile on her face, "Oh Max that was great, I think you actually scared him for once. I have to go, but thank you. It means a lot." "Anytime Kate," Max replied. She watched Kate walk off, but she had this horrid sense of foreboding. She didn't know what was wrong with Kate, but she definitely wasn't acting herself. Max hadn't noticed it until now, but it looked as if Kate's eyes were bloodshot, and now that she thought about it, she thought she saw tear tracks down her face. Oh well, nothing to do about it now. She headed over to the parking lot.