Friends?


Chloe was overwhelmed by the sensations around her. The noise was everywhere, it was incredibly loud. students chatting, teachers yelling and lockers being slammed shut were the main culprits, but there were the odd hastened footsteps to and from classrooms or ringtones as well.

She looked around with her mouth agape, dazed and hazy-minded. Chloe truly was back. Rachel didn't shit her. What the fuck, this was bullshit! How was this possible!? The blue-haired girl looked her up and down. Her body seemed fine, no red stained her white shirt and her skin was a healthy, pale pink. She swallowed hard and tried to comprehend what happened, but her confusion won her over.

'Don'tfreakdon'tfreakdon'tfreakdon'tfreakdon'tfreakdon'tfreakdon'tfreak', Chloe told herself in rapid fire. She could feel a headache coming while she was trying to wrap her head around all of this craziness. Her blood was rushing through her body and she could feel dizziness kicking in, which lead her to lean against a nearby wall; she felt the yellowed concrete against her back. It was hard and unmoving, steadfast and basically just what she needed at that moment. Chloe took a deep breath and managed to calm down a bit.

Her eyes focused for the first time since her second chance at life had begun. Everywhere around her, posters for a party of the Vortex-Club were plastered. 'Just bitches and jocks, how befitting this school', she thought to herself. 'Except Rachel…Don't go there Chloe. You just said your fucking goodbyes to her like, what, five minutes ago? Fuck… We said goodbye, she gave me spooky time-travel powers. More of that later though - what the shit am I supposed to do now?'

Her mind wandered off into wild guesses and half-assed plans. If she'd sic'd herself on Jefferson's or Prescott's tail, they'd find out. If they could get Rachel, she wouldn't be much of a challenge. Waltzing into that bathroom would most likely result in her getting shot again, which Chloe didn't have an itch for right now. The principal kicked her out of Blackhell three years ago, he'd never help her, especially if she told this dumbass he'd hired a maniacal photographer as teacher who killed his students. The situation with Nathan was much the same – his father fund the school and the principal surely wouldn't want to risk losing that support. Chloe didn't get along with step-douche, the "head of security" at the school. You know, the same kinda person who's a mall cop and think he has any kind of authority. Also, he did a shit job of it, judging from the amount of blunts lying around everywhere. He'd also never believe her, instead being more of an annoying pain in the ass for her since he'd be convinced she'd lie to him. Fuck, she was on her own – and she had to find and convince Max that she wasn't insane. Chloe sighed; keeping Max safe was gonna be one hella tough task.

Chloe wasn't really paying attention, She just from the corner of her eye saw people flying by. She didn't recognize most of them. Pff, or any at all. Though...wait a second! That assfart Prescott just came out of the bathroom, looking confused and exhausted. He stormed off towards one of the side exits of the school, the gun that psycho brought with him sticking out of his waistband. He didn't seem to have noticed her, or else he wouldn't just leave. Chloe waited until he was gone for sure before she pushed herself off the wall she was leaning on. Her mind wasn't clear still, awash with questions, but she'd f- THUNK.

"The fuck?" Chloe stammered, taking a step back in surprise. Someone had crashed into her, full charge. That person's head slammed into her stomach, her shoulder smashed into Chloe's. The punk girl looked down onto a girl's mob of brown hair, a pink cardigan and a messenger back on the side. With dull surprise, she took a step back but kept her head low. She mumbled a faint excuse before she tried to pass Chloe and be on her merry way. But Chloe wasn't having that. If you make an excuse, at least have the balls to fucking look at the person you're talking to. The blue-haired girl stretched out her right arm and held the girl in place who, once again, in surprise froze over. Chloe slowly turned to her, her mouth a sneer and her voice annoyed.

"Yo, you. If you make an excuse, fucking look that person in the eyes. Some manners, you know what that is?" Yes, Chloe was aware of the irony. Usually, she was the brash person, but after the last couple of hours she needed an excuse to vent some fucking frustration.

x x x

Obviously uneasy, the girl in front of her slowly raise her face to meet Chloe's. Her heart was beating quickly, she was troubled. Just a minute or two ago she'd seen the resident school jerk Nathan Prescott weave a gun around in the girl's bathroom, talking to himself in the mirror. And now she had this dangerous, 'don't-fuck-with-me' looking girl's negative attention. Fuck, this day never ends…

She sighed and her eyes locked with the blue orbs of the girl opposite her, who was still holding her shoulder in a solid grip. The girl was pretty, very much so. But now that she got a good look at her…there was something familiar about her. Beautiful face (even if it looked pissed), big blue eyes, self-assured voice. It couldn't be her, though. She had brown hair and didn't run around in leather jackets and beanies – and she didn't stink of cigarettes.

After another sigh, she was about to open her mouth when the other girl came first. Her face was confused and scrunched up. The girl's eyes grew harder, properly unfriendly. Unfriendly and angry, very angry. She opened her mouth, all but spitting out her next words, laced with disdain.

"Maxine?! What. The. Fuck. Are you doing here?"

It clicked. In front of her was her former best friend, Chloe. Whom she left five years ago to go to Seattle due to her parent's work. Oh fuck this day. Not this, please, not today. Fuck. Never got to visit her, and I've been back in Arcadia for more than a month already. Max was about to answer when Chloe cut her off with a gesture.

"Know what? Fuck it, don't wanna know. Piss off back to oh-so-great Seattle. You excel at running away anyway, bitch." And with that (and an aggressive shove against Max's shoulder), Chloe chugged her hands into her leather jacket and walked away. Max couldn't wrap her head around what the hell just happened, and she didn't get the time to do so as the bells tolled. People poured back into the halls and separated her and Chloe who was, by now, close to the exist. As if she knew Max watched her back, she lifted her right arm and flipped her off. Max was pushed towards the classrooms; a double session of chemistry was coming up.

An hour and a half later and after a dozen of lame attempts by her friend Warren (who very obviously crushed on her), school was over for that day. She arranged with Warren to bring him back his flash drive which he had lent her for some movies; they'd meet later in the school's parking lot. He waved her goodbye, she gave him a friendly nod and stormed out of the classroom. She was more careful this time to not bump into people and made it out of the gates. Usually she'd hang around with her friends around school, but today, she just wanted to hide from people. When she was headed for the dormitory, an unpleasant voice that had been living with her for a couple of months now piped up.

Fuck you Max, Chloe was right. Running again, aren't we?

Shut up, I just need some time for myself.

Bitch puh-lease. You had a couple of years to yourself. Especially since you shot Chloe out. Selfish skank. You heard, you knew that Chloe went through hell because of her father's death yet you kept your fucking mouth shut. And now you've met her, crashed into her actually, and want to run again? Fuck, grow some balls. Speaking of balls, hoes ahead.

The voice fell silent and Max looked up just in time to see what she meant. There she was, Blackwell's queen bee - Victoria Chase and her minions, Taylor and Courtney. They blocked the entrance to the dorm and were chatting merrily, surely slandering Max or any of the other 'uncool' teens at Blackwell Academy. Or planning one of their oh-so-special Vortex Club parties. Whatever, Max didn't care, she had one hell of a weird day thus far. She wasn't in the mood for their shenanigans, she just wanted to be done with this day. Max continued to walk towards them, steeling herself.

That's when something unusual happened; the sprinklers near the door suddenly spewed out much more water than usual. The girls shrieked, jumped up and walked away as quickly as possible, trying to shield their expensive, fancy clothing from more water. Max barely resisted a smirk and shuffled towards the now free entrance door, hoping the skanks wouldn't jump at her. She didn't really mind getting a bit wet, after all, it was just water not acid. Or paint. She'd seen a bucket of paint dangling elevated yet close to Victoria and company. It was almost a pity the handle didn't snap and splatter them with color. Oh well, she couldn't have everything.

Max turned her head when she heard Courtney roar in anger, but not at her. Instead, they were now busy chewing out poor Samuel, the groundskeeper of Blackwell. He was nice, if weird, and not the brightest person around, mean as it sounded. He made excuses in his own, weird voice, but the trio didn't care.

She was contemplating stepping in to stop the harassment, but in reality, max was just happy to get into the dorm, so she shot an apologetic glance to Sam and quickly scurried through the door, feeling safe and secure when she heard the click behind her. The tension she'd unknowingly built up started to ease and left while she took the stairs to the left. By the time she'd reached the door to her dorm room, the tension was gone completely.

Good, let's snatch that drive, give it to Warren and then let's chill out. Should tell him where to meet, though.

[Max]

[Hey Warren, got your flash. Can we meet in the parking lot now? TTYL]

Max headed for her desk where she knew she put the stick. Luckily, it was still there. The last thing she'd need now was if someone stole a stick that wasn't even hers. Max snatched it, put it into her bag and headed for the door. As soon as she did so, however, her phone vibrated. Max had received a message and when she saw who it was from, she couldn't ignore it.

[Chloe]

[Max. We needa talk. swing your bony ass to the lighthouse. ]

Max tensed up. This time she actually felt it. She felt a feeling surge through her body, but she wasn't sure what to make of it. It was a weird mix between fear, anxiousness and a touch of happiness. Though she knew and remembered one thing about Chloe - don't keep her waiting if she's pissed at you, you're making it worse. And while it was true, Max was safe on Blackwell-grounds, she didn't want to be enemies with her former BFF.

Her inner voice came back.

Oh my fucking god, can you for once not be the biggest pussy around?

As much as she loathed thinking about it, Max knew it - another part of herself?- was right. She was too introverted, to cowardly for her own good. She could at least try to stand up for herself and clarify things with her former best friend, she'd never hurt her...right?

Max shuddered and finally left her dorm room. plugging her ears with her headphones and zoning out a bit. Music always helped her relax. Her stride grew a bit quicker when she reached the door to the stairway - hopefully Victoria wasn't there still. She quickly walked down the stairs and all but barged out of the dormitory exit. As luck would have it, the bitch-squad was gone. Max exhaled the breath she'd been holding and made way for the parking lot which was located past the main building.

On her way to there, however, she heard that she was about to happen upon an unpleasant scene. A voice hacked into poor Kate Marsh, one of the few dear friends she'd made thus far at Blackwell. Max didn't hear much, though she heard the word drugs being thrown in. Katie and drugs? That was ridiculous! Creeping towards the gate, she could see the poor girl being intimidated by, ironically, the chief of security, Mr. Madsen. Max never liked him, he was a completely paranoid asshole. Rumor had it he was a soldier who mentally collapsed and was discharged. Now, he was the chief of security and did a horrible job of it; he believed that every student dealt drugs and was criminal. Max could see him walking closer to Kate, intimidating her to the brink of tears, judging from the way her voice cracked. Poor girl.

With a sigh, Max decided to take heart and step in - after she'd taken a picture to actually prove bullied Kate. She took aim with her seeker and with a satisfying click, her old-school (or hipster, depending who you asked) instant picture camera spit out a picture. Max gave it a quick shake to develop the photograph before she put both things in her bag. She stepped forward and called out with as much courage and confidence she could muster:

"Hey! Leave her be!"

Madsen turned to her and Kate looked past him. He actually backed off a step when he gave Max his entire attention, a snarl on his moustache'd lips and angry expression on his hardened face.

"Back off, missy. Ain't your business."

"It actually is. Leave Katie alone, she's done nothing wrong!" Her voice was more confident than she'd expected. She could feel the adrenaline rush through her body, she never was good at standing her ground. Max turned her head to the intimidated girl.

"Yeah? Don't care, I'm here on official campus business and won't let some teen-punk stop me from doing my job. That girl here knows stuff about what drug-related shit happened at the last party of that so-called Vortex Club, but she refuses to tell me." He shot glares between Max and Kate, disapproval lacing his every word. Madsen took a step towards Max, trying to play his game on her as well by lumbering over her - which would've been more impressive if he was more than ten centimeters taller than her. After standing right in front of her, he tilted his head to look Max in the eye in an attempt of intimidation.

"Maybe you know something, missy? Whatcha hiding? Well?" His eyes locked with hers, but she refused to budge. Instead, Max was fiddling around with her bag quietly until she found the snap from earlier. With a flick of her wrist, she took the picture out and held it out, firmly but easy to see.

"I'm not hiding anything other than proof I have that you harassed Kate. Could you leave her be now, pretty please? Or do I need to see the headmaster about this?" She felt a lot braver than she ever had; Max had absolutely no idea where this confidence comes from, but it felt good.

The man in front of her alternated his glances between Kate, Max and the picture. She could see he was thinking about snatching it, but obviously decided against it when he, with a grumble, took back a couple of steps.

"I'll remember this, missy. You just made a mistake.", he added after shooting Max as threatening a look as possible before stomping away. Max waited until he was completely out of view before she walked over to Kate.

"Man, what an asshole.", she said with anger in her voice. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Yes, I'm okay. Thank you so much, Max." Kate sighs in relief.

"What did he want with you anyway? Are you in any kind of trouble?" Concern laced Max' voice, more than she wanted to let slip.

"It's a longer story…I'll tell you later, alright?" Kate flashes her a small smile, obviously sincerely grateful for the help but didn't pursue the matter further. Poor Katie seemed more withdrawn than usually...

"Yes, please do. I don't have much time right now, got places to be." Max sighed before she flashed Katie an earnest, gentle smile. "Hey, don't worry about Mr. Dickhead too much, he's just an asshole. I'll always have your back if I get the chance. Listen Kate, I'm really sorry, but I gotta run, it has been a weird ass day and it's only about to get weirder."

Kate squeezed her arm gently before she waved Max goodbye. The young photographer waved back and hurried along, across campus. The sun was standing low but it was still pleasantly warm. Lots of people were out, but she didn't have the time to stand around and talk with them. She just wanted to give Warren's flash drive back, maybe score a ride to the lighthouse in his not-new new wheels he'd bragged about so much so she wouldn't take as long to get there. Also, she'd make him happy and he'd finally be silent about it. Max had barely reached the stairs to the parking lot when she already heard Warren call out to her.

"Yo Maximus, here!" He was leaning against the hood of his car, looking all proud of it. Max got that he was proud, it was his own car. Even though it was an old, beaten-up hatchback. But hey, it had four wheels… She hurried over to him while checking for incoming, her hand already digging in her bag.

"Hey, Warren. How d'you do?" She asked. Max handed him the stick which he accepted with a nod and a smile.

"I'm fine. Boring day, nothing much. By the way, how did you like the movies on the stick?"

Sighing, Max declined. Instead, she began to tell him about her completely bizarro day. She knew that Warren always listened carefully and was genuinely shocked when Max told him about Nathan waving that gun about in the bathroom. They also shared a somewhat gloating snicker about Victoria's misfortune and erupted in a joined flurry of increasingly funny insults to Madsen.

"And now I got to get to the lighthouse to meet my former best friend who I accidentally bumped into today and who is royally pissed at me", Max finished her recap of the day. She sighed again, realizing how weird this all was.

"I can give you a lift, if you want? It's a long way there and it sounds like you're in deep crap already, so better not add tardiness to the list", Warren said. He bounced off the hood and rounded the car, opening and holding open the passenger's seat door for Max.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it!" Max hurried over to the door. She flung herself in the worn-out seat and was hit by that classic 'fourth-hand-car'-smell. She didn't mind much though, it had its own charm. The driver seat door opened and Warren hopped in. One, admittedly slick, movement later, he was belted and had the engine humming. Max affirmed she was good to go and they drove out of the parking lot.

A minute later, Nathan Prescott stormed out of the bathroom, a torn selfie in hand.


A/N: Short and humble - hope you like it, as with last time, constructive criticism is much asked for!