CHAPTER 2: altered perspectives.
"Fuck, no -"
All of a sudden, the room falls into an eery silence. Beads of sweat have formed across her forehead, her hair sticking uncomfortably to her face as tears roll down her cheeks and settle on her lips, still hung open in a silent scream. The panic is still gripping her body, her limbs stiff and her heart pounding; but there's no Nathan, no sirens or shouting..
No body on the floor.
She stands rooted to the spot, lowering her hand and fixating on the floor where she knows she saw the girl fall. Did I black out? Did Nathan make a run for it?
Yanking her phone out from her jeans pocket, she blinks down furiously at the numbers on the screen, eyes straining against the bright light. '10/07, 10:03 am'. This can't be right, I met Nathan later than this.
Her hands are shaking so violently that the phone slips from her grasp, glass shattering noisily upon impact with the floor. "SHIT", like I can afford to replace that in a hurry. Unless - She looks down at her hands, mind reeling. Did I.. somehow reverse time?
Feeling apprehensive – and a little bit ridiculous – she takes a deep breath and raises her hand again, trying to keep it steady. Okay, try to ignore the fact that this is impossible, and focus.
Slow at first, but then increasingly faster, she can feel something happening, a pressure building in the front of her head. She watches with blurred vision as the phone bounces up off the floor, the shards of glass reconnecting in mid-air, right in front of her eyes, and less than a second later, she can feel it materialize back in her pocket. Throwing her hand back down as the sensation in her head starts to suffocate, she fumbles for the now completely in-tact phone. Not a scratch. Holy fucking shit, I'm a real life super hero. Which means..
I can stop this from happening.
Throwing her hood back up over her head, she wipes her eyes quickly in the mirror and makes a dash for the exit. I need to find that girl; she's not safe in there if Nathan shows up, he's fucking unhinged. Blue jeans, gray hoodie, pink or.. was it a purple top? Jesus, Chloe. Think.
"Oh for god's sake," a familiar voice suddenly grunts from behind her, and she groans loudly, spinning on her heel. "What are you doing here now?" Great, just what I need. Hey, wait a sec -
"Hey fuckwad!" she waves faux-cheerfully at him, and the look on David's face is priceless.
"Christ Chloe, look at your eyes. You're high again, aren't you? Just who the hell do you think you are?" His face is practically glowing crimson as he marches toward her, but she just raises her hand, much to his confusion.
"Someone who doesn't have to put up with your bullshit anymore," she smirks, rewinding back just far enough to give herself time to hide. Oh man, I could get used to this, she thinks, quickly finding a spot away from David's future warpath. Find the girl, steer her well clear of Nathan, and then I play.
She stands around the corner, and watches as David passes by, completely unaware that she's watching just a few feet away. As she waits for the girl, her mind drifts to the new possibilities.. and to Rachel. If only I could go back that far, she thinks as she feels her heart grow heavy in her chest; but the thought of using her power to gather more information gives her the first real taste of hope that she's had in months, and that's something.
Looking over at the posters she'd put up on her way in, she notices a girl lingering by the water fountain, and she feels her body grow tense. That's her, that's the girl from the bathroom, she thinks, though there's something else about her body language that seems weirdly familiar. That's when it occurs to her that she has no idea how to actually approach her without terrifying her – she doubts 'come with me now, or you'll literally die' will do the trick somehow – but a quick glance to her left confirms that Nathan's already making his way toward the bathroom, and he's already looking agitated.
Fuck it, this is important.
Striding up behind the girl, she reaches out to tap her urgently on the shoulder. "Hey, look you need to come with -" but she's cut off dead when the girl spins around to face her, a startled look across her face like a deer caught in headlights. "Max?!"
There's a long pause, as Max blinks up at her with wide blinking eyes, as if she's trying to figure out if it's really her, and Chloe's already feeling a wave of nausea settling in her stomach as she realizes that it was Max that she just watched die, right in front of her.
And partially because of her.
"Chloe?!" She finally manages, music still blasting through her earphones as she reaches up to remove them with shaky hands. Chloe can feel her mouth opening and closing, all words dying in her throat as her brain struggles desperately to catch up with the shock.
"I -" she starts, but she's speechless – for once. Max is giving her what looks like an attempt at a smile, but Chloe's remembered why she approached her in the first place, eyes darting up and down the corridor as she looks for signs of Nathan, and suddenly the awkwardness and her not knowing what to say doesn't matter. "Max, we need to get out of here, now." She says bluntly, nodding toward the exit and reaching out to grip her arm. Max jumps backward slightly at that, apparently startled by the sudden physical contact.
"Uh.. Okay, just let me freshen up in the bathroom -"
"What, still no time for your best friend, really?" Chloe snaps, narrowing her eyes and letting go. "Sorry – former best friend," she adds with a scoff.
"I'm sorry -" she starts, but Chloe just shakes her head; we don't have time for this, not now.
"Look, let's talk about it somewhere else, okay? I'll get in hella fucking trouble if I'm caught here again." Max just nods then, her brows knitted together in confusion, and allows herself to be led as Chloe marches them toward the exit as fast as she can without breaking into a sprint. "My truck's parked in the lot, we can head there."
They make their way hurriedly across campus without a single word passing between them. What am I supposed to say, anyway? It's as she's taking the steps two at a time down toward the lot – Max nearly having to break into a jog to match her pace – that they hear a voice call out.
"Hey Max! Over here!"
They both stop abruptly, as Max waves over at a boy who Chloe doesn't recognize leaning against a heap of junk disguised as a car. He starts jogging toward them, the curiosity obvious on his face, and Max shoots Chloe an apologetic look - but she's far too concerned with getting them out of Blackwell and the hell away from Prescott to mutter anything more than "you go ahead, I'll bring the truck around," before marching off in the direction of her 'parking' space.
She climbs into the truck, slamming the door loudly behind her as she watches Max smile and laugh with her friend – completely unaware of everything that could have happened to her today – everything that technically did happen, and she feels sick. Slumping back in her seat and covering her face with her hands for a moment, she concentrates on regulating her breathing.
Her emotions are in complete and utter conflict with one another; because despite the days events, despite how relieved she is to see Max is okay, she's still so fucking angry at her.. at everything. And it's exhausting.
As she finally feels her heartbeat returning to an almost acceptable pace, she sits up and reaches for the ignition, but movement on the opposite side of the car lot quickly catches her eye. Oh for fucks sake, what now?! She thinks, grabbing the wheel as she sees Nathan approaching Max and her friend - his face like thunder. Can I not catch a fucking break?
She starts the car as quickly as she can, skidding around the corner until she's as close as she can get without hitting anyone - though the temptation to slam the car right into Nathan is overwhelming when she sees the way he's got Max by the throat, hot white rage bubbling up inside of her.
Skidding to a halt, she jumps out just in time to see Max claw her nails down the side of Nathan's face, causing him to stumble back just long enough for Max to escape his grip. Damn, Max, she thinks, before motioning quickly at her with a nod of the head to get into the truck.
Nathan turns to face them - just in time to see Chloe's clenched fist flying toward his face. The impact is enough to send him stumbling to the ground, his hand covering what looks like a bloody nose. "You're lucky I didn't hit you with the car," she snarls down at him, before climbing in after Max.
"Get your punk asses out of there NOW," Nathan screams, having clambered back to his feet, before giving the door a kick, but Warren's already grabbing him by the shoulders.
"Go, I got this -" He shouts, pulling him away as Chloe speeds off toward the road.
"Oh my god," Max says, voice trembling as Chloe looks straight ahead, insides churning and knuckles white from her grip on the wheel. "Chloe.. are you okay? I know Nathan's an asshole, but - but you could get in serious trouble."
"I'm already in serious trouble," she mutters, watching as Max shifts uncomfortably in her peripheral vision. "Look, I'm sorry I got you involved. And I'm sorry if I scared you, but you don't know what I know. Nathan's fucking dangerous, Max."
"Is Nathan the reason you were in such a hurry to leave? He kept asking me where you were.."
"Yeah. He must've seen us leaving together. But before you ask, I'll tell you about it some other time." Because how the hell am I supposed to explain the real reason? Like she'd believe me. Taking another deep breath, she tries to relax her grip and focus on the gentle breeze rolling through the open crack in the window, thinking of something to say in an effort to divert the conversation – not to mention her mind – away from the situation with Nathan.. "So I guess.. Seattle sucked hard?"
"I guess," Max says slowly, reaching down to pick her bag up off the floor from where she'd dumped it in her panic. "I felt kinda out of my league. Like I never really settled in with the crowd there."
"Really? I'd have thought you'd fit in perfectly with the artsy hipster crowd. But I bet it still sucks to be back in this hick town."
"Arcadia Bay is still my home," Max sighs, looking out the window, "and besides, Blackwell Academy has one of the best photography courses in the country. It made sense to come back."
"Right, of course. Because only Max Caulfield would come back for a school rather than her best friend," she says, and she can't keep the biting tone from her voice.
"I didn't mean it like that.. Don't you think I'm happy to see you?"
"No, I don't. You were happy to leave for five years without a call, or even a text, Max." Her voice is laced with resentment as she turns to face her, but Max won't meet her gaze. "You were supposed to be my best friend."
"You know I didn't want to leave." She says quietly, looking down at her hands.
"Do I?" Chloe scoffs, but instantly regrets it. "Sorry. I know."
They sit in silence for a moment, years of unspoken thoughts lingering uncomfortably between them as they rush past the thick trees. Chloe hears Max rummaging for something in her bag, and then a heavy sigh. "Oh man, are you cereal?" She can't help but feel the hint of a smirk pull at the tight corners of her mouth at that.
"Wow. I haven't heard that one in a long time."
"Not all things change, except my camera has officially taken a shit," Max groans.
"You can fix it at mine, if you want. My step-douche has tools, and we're pretty close to the house now anyway."
"I need very specific tiny tools," Max says.
"Nerd alert. He's got a fully stocked garage - and he really is a tiny tool."
"It would be nice to see the house again," Max sighs, stashing the broken camera back into her bag.
How can Max being back, out of all the things that have happened already in the day, feel the most surreal? Chloe thinks, leaning against her arm propped on the windowpane as they near the house. "God.. this day just gets weirder and weirder," she says, thinking out loud.
"Tell me about it."
"You have no fucking idea, trust me," Chloe half-chuckles under her breath. Max looks at her with a puzzled expression on her face, but Chloe just smiles at her, the relief that she's here - that she's alive - seeping back through the cracks. And for just a moment, in the gentle amber light as they drive down the familiar street, the two of them being back together somehow feels right. "Welcome home, Max."
"The house still looks.. nice."
"Home shit home," Chloe grunts, leading the way quickly up the stairs to her bedroom.
She knows Max is just being polite. The house is practically falling apart with its' overgrown lawn and rotting wood, half painted; a daily reminder that he'd never had the chance to finish what he'd started. "My room looks a little different from when you last saw it," she says, flopping wearily down on to the bed.
"It's strange to think about the last time I was here," Max says quietly, hovering in the doorway. Chloe doesn't respond, just reaches over for an ashtray and her lighter. "At least we can chill out here, for a bit."
"This isn't exactly my chill out zone, thanks to step dick," she mutters, folding her free hand behind her head. "Could you put on some music while I uh - relax, for a moment? This day has been hella fucking insane."
"Music, right." Max nods, carefully stepping over the boxes and clothing littering the floor as she looks around for a place to start.
"So what does Max Caulfield do for fun, now that she's all grown up?" Chloe asks, watching the cloud of smoke forming above her head.
"Not much, I suppose," Max says as she reaches down to flick the switch on the power strip by the door. Chloe waits for a second part to that statement, but it never comes, and she turns to look at her, frowning.
"That's totally depressing."
"Well.. I take photos," Max says, backtracking quickly. "Of everything. Things that inspire me.. It might sound sad, but I love it." Chloe's expression softens at that, a sad smile on her face as she remembers long summer days spent with her dad's old camera, her posing in the garden and Max taking so many photos that they'd get in trouble for wasting the film. Even as a kid, though, the shots were damn good.
"It doesn't sound that sad," she says, taking a long drag on the joint between her fingers. "I always said you'd make a good photographer."
"I remember," Max says gently, and Chloe allows her mind to drift back to their childhood - something she's tried not to do since finally accepting that Max might never be coming back.
Suddenly there's a loud smash, followed by a tiny gasp. She lifts her head up to see the look of horror on Max's face as she looks down at the puddle of water, and the smashed remnants of the doe snow globe her Dad had bought her years ago. "Aw dude, you broke my snow doe. Hang on -" Chloe says, thinking aloud before holding her hand up to quickly rewind. "Uh, probably best not to look there," she says, stopping Max in her tracks before she can tip toe up to rummage through the messy shelves. "Fragile stuff, you know you've always been clumsy."
"That's.. true," Max says with a guilty smile, backing away and looking elsewhere. And Chloe's rad rewind saves the day again, she smirks to herself. This is so fucking cool.
"There might be a CD under the bed somewhere," Chloe offers, growing slightly tired of watching Max shuffle about from one end of her dump of a room to the other. "It's usually the first place I stash things that I don't know what to do with."
"And you're just telling me this now?" Max sighs, crouching down to root under the bed as Chloe shrugs.
"Maybe I just wanted to watch you suffer for a bit," she jokes, though she instantly winces at her poor choice of words - considering the morning's events. Max grows silent suddenly, the rummaging noises drawing to a stop, and Chloe props herself up on her elbows to see her holding something in her hands.
"Hey! Give me that!" she demands, suddenly realizing what it is, and she lurches forward to snatch it from Max's grip.
"I'm sorry.. I wasn't trying to be nosey," Max says, biting her lip. "That's Rachel Amber.. I've seen her missing posters up all over Blackwell."
"Yeah. I put them up," she says, looking down at the photo in her hands, the edges frayed from months of folding and refolding.
"Obviously she was.. a good friend."
"That's putting it mildly," Chloe sighs, not looking up from the photo as Max sits down next to her. "Rachel was.. my angel. She was there for me when I had no one. After my dad died and you moved away, I felt abandoned." Her voice catches in her throat as her hands shake, fingers fiddling with the worn edges. "We were best friends, Max."
"I know.. and I really am sorry Chloe. But.. at least you had Rachel." She says, leaning closer to look down at the photo. "She's so pretty.. she looks like a model."
"That was her plan," she pauses, "our plan. This was the last photo we ever took together. And then.." and then she disappeared. Like everyone always does. "Could you put that music on now?"
Max hesitates for a moment, and Chloe's sure she sees her fingers twitch as if she's thinking about reaching out to comfort her, but instead she just heads to the player, CD in hand.
"You can head on down to the garage, if you want. You'll find the tools in there," Chloe says, as the gentle music fills the room.
"Okay," Max says, lingering by the door for a moment, as Chloe settles back down on the bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. "Chloe.. are you okay?"
"Sure. I just need to blaze and be alone for a moment," she says, her voice utterly monotone. Max doesn't reply, and a moment later she hears the door shut, the latch clicking gently, leaving Chloe alone with only the music and her thoughts.
I'm somewhere, you're somewhere,
I'm nowhere, you're nowhere,
I could go there. But I don't.
She watches as the smoke drifts up and away from her, flecks of dust dancing in the light. Her head is swimming, the days events playing over in her mind as her brain struggles to make sense of it all.. and there's one memory that she just can't seem to block out; Max's body hitting the bathroom floor. It creeps back in again and again, the gunshot still ringing in her ears, the panic welling up in her until she can feel her eyes brim with tears. She shudders, her stomach churning.
Clearing her head as best as she can, she focuses her attention on the possibilities her new power might bring. I can definitely use this to gather information on Rachel. Someone in this shit pit has to know something.. Maybe this is a sign that the universe is finally on my side.
She's completely lost in thought when Max finally returns, a sheepish look on her face, tools in hand. "Wow, I've missed that face," Chloe says, trying to sound a little more light-hearted, hauling herself up from the bed to lean against the wall next to the window. "You can sit at my desk and fix your camera, if you want."
Max sits down at the desk and starts fiddling away with the broken bits of camera, the soft light from the setting sun illuminating her face, tongue poking out slightly between parted lips in concentration. God, she's still so fucking adorable.
"I am sorry I snapped at you, in the car. You really have no idea how happy I am to see you," alive - she adds in her head with a shudder. Max stops fiddling with the camera at that, and smiles up at her. "So.. what's the diagnosis, Doctor Max?"
"I think this camera has snapped its' last shot," Max sighs, placing the tool down on the desk in frustration.
"Wait, I have an idea," Chloe says, kneeling down to root through the chaos of her shelves until she finds what she's looking for, buried under a mountain of trash. "I know it was your birthday last month," she says, holding the camera behind her back as Max tries to peek round. "So.. here. This was dad's. He'd be mad that I never use it, and he always said you took better photos with it than he did."
"Chloe.. it's so great that you remembered my birthday, but I don't deserve this," Max tries, giving her a little push, but Chloe just pushes the camera into her hands.
"Of course you do. Look, you need a camera to take photos of our reunion, right?"
"Right," Max grins, turning the camera over to look at it. "Thanks, Chloe."
"Okay, that's enough mushy shit," she says, bending down to skip to a more upbeat song. "Time to dance, hippy! Shake that bony white ass!"
"You know I can't dance," Max chuckles as Chloe climbs up onto the bed, but she makes the tiniest little attempt, and it's adorable and hilarious at the same time.
"No kidding," Chloe grins, watching as Max's cheeks flush red. "Okay, less of.. whatever that is, more taking my photo with your new camera!" She strikes a pose as Max takes the shot, tucking the developing photo into her bag as she laughs at Chloe's dancing.
"CHLOE," a voice bellows from downstairs. Fucking David, ruining everything. "I TOLD YOU TO STOP BLASTING THAT PUNK SHIT. WE NEED TO TALK, I'M COMING IN." Okay, super powers. Time to test you out again, she thinks, raising her hand.
"Quick, Max. Music off and out the window!" She says in a hushed voice, before David can hear that she's home.
"What-" Max stammers, clearly bewildered, but quickly turning the music off anyway. "Why?"
"I'll explain in a bit, I promise," Chloe says, pushing her toward the open window, and the two of them clamber out.
How am I going to explain this?