Three years in Seattle. There was so much more here than in Arcadia Bay. ("Another great day!" Ugh.) But the anniversary of the big move made her think of Chloe. She hoped Chloe's life was turning out OK, despite everything. What was it Joyce had said, that they'd "find a new rhythm?" Whatever that means.
Max walked into the skate park with the Polaroid instant camera and her old 80's Nikon 35mm, which was loaded with 800 ISO black and white. With the Nikon, she hoped to get some high-contrast action shots of skaters mid-air, all shadow and light in the afternoon sun. The Polaroid was for the people who were not in motion, skater punks at peak fashion in their native environment. It was two shoots in one.
The park was big, with concrete ramps, halfpipes, pools, rails, and there were dozens of skaters and just as many gawkers. The air was full of the rattle and clack of boards on cement. She didn't really know anybody, but she recognized a few kids from school sitting at the edge of a half pipe, so she approached them.
"Hey, do you guys mind if I take some photos? I'm trying to catch some airborne tricks and some fashion too." She waggled a camera in each hand, feeling like a complete dork amidst all this urban cool.
The small group looked at each other, there were a few shrugs, and one of the guys spoke. "Yeah, that's cool... Max, right? We'll show off some tricks. You skate?"
"Nah, I'm terrible. I'd kill myself in there." She was surprised anybody here knew her name. "Just a shutterbug."
"Aaron," he said, stepping onto his board. He didn't bother to introduce anyone else.
"Right, cool." Raising the Nikon, her old best friend came to mind again. I wonder if Chloe skates.
Chloe dropped into the halfpipe. A rickety wooden thing somebody had thrown together, but it was all they had in this town. Arcadia Bay's small contingent of skaters lounged around the edges. She arced back and forth a while to build up speed, find her balance, then high up one side to pull a fast rock n' roll, catching some good air on the turn, then down, across and up to stall out on the other side, landing solidly on the edge and dismounting. "Damn Chloe, flawless!" called a voice from across the pipe. She looked around to smiles and nods of approval... from the guys at least. They were here to skate. The girls were here to watch the guys. Some of them had boards they rode around on but they didn't go in the pipe, didn't do tricks, and a lot of them resented Chloe for breaking the mold.
She kicked up her board and sat cross-legged next to Sarah. Green eyes, a slight build and long black hair spilling down her faded brown army jacket. Chloe was nursing a crush. "Hey."
"Hey Chloe. Not bad." Sarah looked around pointedly, then back at Chloe. "Everybody watches when you skate."
"Maybe they've never seen a girl in there before. You should get in the pipe sometime, it's not as hard as it looks. I could show you how. I mean, sometime when there's not an audience. Just in case." She rolled up her left sleeve to show off a six-inch strip of half-healed road rash.
"Ouch, that must have killed! I think I'll pass," Sarah said, then gestured to the blue streak cutting through Chloe's blond hair. "I like the blue."
"Thanks. My stepdad hates it."
"So?"
"Exactly."
Across the pipe, Justin dropped in. Sarah watched him intently. "He's such a cutie."
"I guess," Chloe scowled, "if you're into red-eyed space-cases."
"Hah! I think maybe I am."
God damn it. No surprise, but it still stung. Why do I do this to myself? "Well, good luck with that. I'll see you around," she said halfheartedly, hopping down from the pipe and heading for home. Sarah may have been a skate punk but she was still straight as an arrow; none of those girls were queer. As far as Chloe could tell, neither were any of the other girls in the whole damned town.
"This one's a rock n' roll!" Aaron called from the bottom of the pipe, before coming up the side, rocking on the coping, losing it, and bailing hard down the side. "Crap!" he yelled, tumbling. Max clicked the shutter and the Nikon buzzed. That was the last frame of the roll. Well, if the tricks didn't come out at least there was a nice shot of this guy flying toward a hard landing. The polaroids were great; the girls were beautiful and loved to model the variously faded, torn, and scuffed clothing that had all come from thrift stores but somehow managed to look just right. Max's eyes kept drifting across them as she sat down to pack up. One girl spoke up.
"That's a film camera, right? What do you do now?"
"I develop these in the dark room at the J.C. Lots of chemicals."
"For real? Sounds like a drag. That Polaroid is sweet though."
"Yeah, it's my favorite. But if I tried to shoot that," she said, pointing to Aaron struggling to his feet below, "with this, it would be a blurry mess. Plus I want black and white."
"Black and white? That is so old school."
"Seriously old school," Max agreed, "all my artsy friends are into it though."
"Freeze frame nerds huh? Sounds like a blast," the girl said, rolling her eyes.
Ouch. "Well... I..." Max started, but Aaron, scrambling onto the edge, interjected.
"Jeez, harsh. Max is alright." And then, sitting next to Max, "Get anything good?"
"Ah... yup. Sure did," Max said, holding up some polaroids.
"Nice! How about the tricks?"
"Maybe. Don't know until I develop them, it takes a while." Max collected her things and stood.
"Ah, bummer. I'd love to see more of your stuff. I'll see you around?"
She supposed he was cute, in a boy sort of way. "Maybe? Uh, I'll be around. But right now I've gotta go hit the dark room." The dark room wasn't open that day. "See you guys." She left the park, and walked toward the bus stop that would take her home.
Damn. Why did it suck so much when that girl dissed her? She was a photo nerd after all. She could have at least come up with something clever to say. I wish Chloe were here, she thought. Chloe would have known what to say, would probably have been friends with these kids. But Chloe wasn't going to be there, maybe not ever. I should grow up and call her, she thought. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach.
Nobody even knew. Nobody added up how Chloe hard-rejected every single guy who ever tried to flirt with her, and only put on the sweetness for girls. They just thought she was weird, and maybe a bitch. Well, they're not necessarily wrong, she thought. Maybe Joyce guessed, but she kept quiet. Never asked about her love life, as if there was one. Probably didn't want to know. Who could Chloe even tell? "Hey, I'm in love with all these girls and if they even know I exist they just want to talk about boys. I'm seventeen and I've never even been on a real date!" Fuck! I wish Max were here, she thought. Max would have listened to all of it and not given her a hard time for being a freak.
Three years gone and Chloe still missed her. Her best friend and her first girl crush. They had been kids, sure, and Chloe never said she thought maybe she was in love, never tried to kiss Max or anything, but it didn't matter. Max had always been there and held her hand and hugged her and they were together and that was enough. But Max had left, never to be heard from again. What did that say? Max didn't really care. Not anymore anyway.
Arriving to a mercifully empty house, tears in her eyes, Chloe propped her board by the front door and went upstairs. She sat at her computer. She'd found a couple of recent photos of Max somebody had posted online, some kind of photography project. She looked at them a lot. Still pretty. More pretty, actually, starting to develop a little curve.
Next to the photos, Chloe opened an email draft. It had been sitting, unsent, for months. She erased it and started again.
At home, sitting on her bed, Max imagined talking to Chloe again. What could she even say? "I'm sorry it's been three years but I thought maybe we could be friends again? At least, we can talk on the phone? About... something?" Weak. Who was Chloe these days anyway? Possibly running Arcadia Bay by now. I guess there's only one way to find out, she thought.
So. She willed herself to do it. She still remembered Chloe's house number. But she had no idea where to start. Maybe if she just called, and Chloe answered, she would stammer something out, and it would suck, but then it'd be Chloe on the other end of the line and it would just work out OK.
Hesitantly, she dialed, pausing a long time before pressing "Call". Her stomach was still a knot. Why was it so hard to call her former best friend? What was she so nervous about? She pressed the button, listened to the ring, her heart beating hard in her chest. A click! Joyce's voice... just the answering machine. What kind of message could she leave that would make any sense?! BEEP. She panicked, killed the call, and curled up on her bed in a confused jumble of disappointment and self-doubt. Who was she kidding? It had just been too long. They weren't friends anymore.
Chloe heard the house phone ring downstairs. If it was important they'd leave a message. Heard the machine pick up, Joyce's recorded voice, the beep, a brief silence, the dial tone. Probably a sales call or a scammer. Those assholes never left you alone.
She finished typing. "Hey Max, long time no see. How's big city life without me? Don't answer that. Actually, I've got some money together for this old truck that's for sale and some gas and was thinking I'd drive up. It's only like 250 miles. We could hang out, check out some of the Seattle sights for a weekend or something. Cool right? Say yes. OK? OK. I miss you so much." She paused a moment, deleted the last sentence. This was fucking pathetic. She didn't even know Max anymore. She must have a million friends in Seattle, probably a boyfriend. Some muscled jerk named Thad or something. Ugh, how awful would that be? "Chloe, this is my beau Thad. Thad, meet my old friend Chloe, from when we were kids."
No way could she send this ridiculous, desperate email. Fuck! If that P.O.S. truck could even make it to Seattle she and Max probably wouldn't even get along anymore and there'd be this boyfriend and all this awkwardness and then what? Back here to this fucking town, back to being the only gay girl in the fucking world. She deleted the email, flopped on the bed. Stuck in this backward, shit town! Fuck this place! Why'd you have to leave me here Max?!