A dreamless, smokey blackness faded into morning. Chloe rose to the comforting, familiar smells and sounds of sizzling bacon. Joyce and David were conversing downstairs. Outside her window, the songbirds sang a happy tune, and the golden sunlight reminded her of the old summer. The peaceful quiet introduced the beginning of a new day.
"Is...David singing? Nightmare fuel much...?"
She turned her head, gazing toward the tree outside. A chubby birdie hopped along a branch, twisting its head to focus its gaze upon her. Chloe squinted her eyes and signaled, giving it the "I'm watching you."
"I wish every morning was like this...something is missing, though..."
With heavy, sleepy eyes, Chloe shivered and settled her cheek back into her pillow, shifting her legs. Her toes nudged something foreign. A person's foot? Chloe turned stiffly over. There was a large lump in her bed cover. Following the form with her eyes, Chloe found a head of messy brown hair and the sleeping face of Max Caulfield, who was unconsciously turned toward her. Max's face was pressed into the opposite pillow, lips slightly open. Red sheet marks were printed across her skin and neck. Chloe, who'd rarely gotten a chance to take a long look at her, observed that Max had grown up a little. Her heart shaped face, smoothly kept brows, and long lashes were things Max hadn't possessed when they were kids. She still had the good ol' freckles.
Chloe felt a warm lightness in her chest. The Max laying beside her was familiar, but also a stranger. Five years was a long time, some things changed.
"God, Max is more...beautiful than I remember. Maybe...pretty is the word I'd use. Hot?"
She quietly picked her phone off the side table and switched on the camera, wearing her smirking, up-to-no-good grin. Making sure the shutter noise was off, she took a few shots of the sleeping Max.
"Huhuh... It's not every day Chloe Price gets a candid photo-op with the ever-bashful Max Caulfield. I'd better take every opportunity I can get. Does... that make me a voyeuristic perv? Uh, somehow... I don't care."
Chloe congratulated herself and turned to look around the bedroom. Memories of the night before were hazy. In shock, Chloe discovered that the entire room...didn't look like her room anymore. Clothes were put away, folded. Old childhood things were organized on her various desks and dressers. Glowie Bear was lit up. Books and magazines were all stacked neatly. Even the rug was straightened. The beer bottles were all gone...
"Whoa... Did...Max do all of this? Last night? Oh man, I feel like shit..."
Chloe's shoulders slumped, and she shook her head, eyes closed. She cast a look behind her, then scooted closer to Max, bundled up like a caterpillar. Chloe leaned in to rest their foreheads together. Her hand reached up, delicately framing the side of Max's cheek and jaw. Her thumb affectionately stroked the girl's ear, tucking hair behind it, and Chloe leaned over to speak in almost a whisper.
"Max."
Max didn't stir. Instead, her brows twitched, lips mumbled something inaudible in her distinctly soft, smoky voice. While Chloe caressed her, her fingers pinched some of Max's hair.
"You're always...taking care of other people. I wish I was more like you... I don't know how you-"
"-Rnnnnnn..."
A groan from Max interrupted Chloe's murmurings. When her eyes fluttered open, the tips of her lashes almost sparkled in the sunlight. Max squinted and lifted a hand, not noticing Chloe looming over her until her arm gently smacked Chloe on the face, spoiling the perfect, Hallmark Movie awakening. Max's grogginess dissipated, and she sat up, once again bumping Chloe on the head with her own. Max winced and grumbled in a sleepy voice.
"Hey Chloe... Good morning." Chloe backed off to let Max breathe, lowering her voice for the sake of her poor friend's ears.
"That's the second time you've almost killed me this morning," Chloe joked, pinching the tip of Max's nose. "I can smell breakfast downstairs."
Max rubbed her crossed eyes, watching Chloe with a trance-like visage. She was ready to fall asleep again.
"How are you feeling? I left some Ibuprofen...on the table in case you had a headache." She pointed to the nightstand. Chloe nodded.
"Thanks. I feel like I just got stomped on by an elephant, but I've had a hella good morning. Listen..." Chloe inched close to Max until their knees were touching. Her hands fidgeted in Max's lap.
"You know I'm not good at all this mushy stuff..." Chloe sighed self-consciously. "Hhhh...thank you. For coming last night, I mean." Chloe pointed her chin around the room. "And for this. I don't deserve any of it."
The sleepy Max watched Chloe intently. Chloe leaned in, taking a hold of her hands.
"Max?"
"I'm listening, I'm listening." Max nodded in reassurance, her eyes wider, more alert. For an instant, her expression flashed in mischief. "Who says I didn't just want an excuse to sleep over like we used to?" She glanced around. "Your room looks way bigger now. Maybe I could move a bed in here."
"Ha, are you kidding? You know you'd just sneak into bed with me." Chloe's flirty, teasing grin flashed.
"You're probably right," Max conceded with shifty eyes. She felt Chloe's hands grasp her shoulders, squeezing. Sincerity defined her furrowed face.
"Max, seriously. I don't know what I'd do without you. I don't think I..." Chloe stopped herself, looking down. The words she intended to say were selfish, would only place a burden of responsibility on Max. Instead, she slowly pulled the girl in close, hugging her snugly. Max's body bent inward, yielding. Her brows lifted, mouth opened. Chloe's cheek pressed against Max's. She felt warm, soft. Chloe's voice was gentle in her ear. Max felt it resonate deep within her.
"I don't care about Seattle. All I care about is that you're here, with me again. Max and Chloe, right?"
Max's face relaxed. She leaned into Chloe, fingers pressing into her back.
"Of course, Max and Chloe. Always."
A silent moment passed. Max took in all of the sights in the room. Every toy, poster, and nook and cranny had a story shared between the girls. Mr. Sharkie, Chloe's enormous plush shark, still grinned malignantly in the corner. Glowie Bear still lit up the dresser with his orange wonder. Posters and drawings from their childhood still decorated the walls. Max, remembering the days of playing pirates on the swing set, let out a breath of relief, grateful that although things had changed, some things were just as they used to be. Max tucked her head under Chloe's chin, swaying gently into their embrace.
Suddenly, the bedroom door opened, followed by Joyce, Chloe's mother. Joyce found Max and Chloe in each others' arms, watching her enter with eyes as big as the state of Texas.
"Chloe-"
"-Hey Mom."
Both spoke, simultaneously interrupting each other. Chloe, quickly shutting her mouth like a wooden puppet, immediately released Max, whose face had been affectionately resting on the other girl's chest. Joyce scrunched her brows together, lips pressed in a thin line.
"Sorry to barge in. Breakfast is ready for you. Max Sweetie, thank you so much for your kind note; Feel free to come on over whenever you like, you're family, after all."
Saying so, Joyce gave Max a pleasant look and went back down the stairs. Chloe looked as if she'd just gotten out of the hospital, pale as a ghost on Halloween.
"Oh man. Mom totally thinks we're fu-"
"We're fine," Max reassured her, heading for the door. She paused before leaving, but didn't turn around. "By the way Chloe, I didn't know you were into photography too."
Though she couldn't see Max's face, Chloe heard the teasing, syrupy sweetness in her voice. As Max left the room, Chloe felt the blood drain from her whole body, then immediately flush upwards, tingling hotly throughout her. Her heart pounded her inner chest like a snare drum. She crumpled onto the mattress, clawing her face in her hands.
"Fuck me with a jackhammer... Next time Chloe, try to make sure Max is actually sleeping before playing paparazzi... Shit. Can't really talk myself out of that one."
Reconciling with the idea that Max would probably spend the rest of the month, or year, giving her crap about the incident, Chloe rolled her eyes and stomped down the stairs, arms exaggeratedly swinging.
Down in the kitchen, Max, David, and Joyce all sat at the table. Not wanting to single Chloe out, they'd started eating ahead of her. Chloe, avoiding all eyes, took the open seat beside Max. When she pulled the chair out, the baritone rumbling on the floor brought all eyes to her.
"Morning David, Mom...Max." Chloe stole a shifty, sideways glance at her friend, who wielded her fork and knife in an unusually jolly fashion. Maybe Chloe's time perception was screwed, but after what felt like forever, Max finally greeted her after silently eating a few more bites.
"Good morning Chloe, David suggested we go fishing today; just the two of us." Unable to hold a straight face, Max aimed a communicative smirk in poor Chloe's direction.
"Oh God, she's doing it again!"
Unbidden, Chloe shifted her gaze to her plate. Looking at anyone felt physically impossible.
"Riiight. Yeah. I can't fish."
Max's act slipped. Her silence told Chloe she was disappointed. Chloe backpedaled, still munching on a sausage.
"Uhh I mean hell yesh! We'll catch all the fish in the pond. Sound cool?" Chloe elbowed Max. The mood around the table unanimously brightened. David, ever-mustached, locked what he thought was a perfectly normal gaze upon Chloe. Despite that, he was still stony as usual.
"Chloe, this evening your mother and I are going to San Francisco for a few days to stay with one of my platoon mates and his wife. I'm sure you'll be fine here by your lonesome." For once, Chloe made an effort to listen attentively without scowling at him. After all, she was either crazy, or it sounded like a little bit of freedom was on the horizon. He continued.
"Please don't forget, curfew is at eleven, no later. Joyce and I are trusting that you'll behave, so remember. No big parties, skunk, or smoking in the house, understood?"
Chloe pulled every muscle in her face to the war effort. No scowling or sulking. Still, she was twenty-one; she could buy her own alcohol, but, rules were rules. Besides that, when she truly thought it through, what David and Mom were asking of her wasn't entirely unreasonable. Not entirely.
"Roger. I'm Mister Clean," she insisted. Was she...smiling, at him?
"Oh brother, don't tell me I'm getting used to him...guess he's not too bad...Mom's happy, I've got the house to myself...so everybody's happy."
David appeared satisfied and finished up his meal, taking Joyce's dishes too. "Good, thank you Chloe. You're a good kid. Maybe when I get back, you and I can go shooting if you want." Chloe's face lit up with a big grin.
"Heck yeah, that would be hella cool," she agreed. David smiled. Joyce chimed in when David moved to the sink.
"Chloe, like Max said, David thought you two might enjoy a little trip through the outdoors today. Weather's gonna be lovely, shouldn't be too cold. You can take David's boat out on the bay, how's that sound?"
"We...get to use David's boat? Seriously?" Chloe's inner-brows turned upward in disbelief, turning from her mother to her stepfather. The boat was a prized possession of his; for him to allow two youngsters to take it out unsupervised was a significant gesture of trust. Chloe rubbed her neck self-consciously.
"Sure, sounds like it'll be fun. I always wanted to be a pirate anyway. Thanks David."
No one noticed, but Chloe had begun to exude a giddy, childlike excitement she hadn't felt in years.
"Arrr! Finally, Long Max Silver and Captain Chloe Bluebeard will terrorize the seas once again!"
Author here. This is my first public work, so I don't expect it to be perfect. I'd appreciate any positive feedback too. I feel as if my pacing could use some work, among other things. I'd also like to make these chapters longer.
Does anyone have any resources they use to improve your writing? I really like the Emotion Thesaurus by Angela Ackerman, for instance. Anyway, chapter three's coming up soon.
N