iii.
That time Max was stuck in a grocery store with Nathan Prescott.
Max searches through boxes underneath her bed as Chloe lies on it, curled up in a fetal position and groaning in agony. Chloe clutches her abdomen as she digs her face into Max's pillow, hyperventilating. When Max finds nothing of use, she slides the boxes back underneath her bed and moves to her desk to see if there's something, anything, that can aid Chloe. Max starts tossing old papers and unwanted junk she hadn't known she had, not caring if she leaves a messy trail. Still nothing. Max releases a frustrated sigh.
"I'm sorry, Chloe," Max says. She walks over to the bed and gives Chloe a firm rub on the back. "I've got nothing. I'll go ask around and see if anyone has any pain meds or a heating pad."
Chloe is tense, from the expression on her face to the stiffness of her body. "Max," she chokes out, "I've never had cramps like this before. Shit. Ugh. Fuck." Chloe wretches in pain, and Max knows Chloe is doing everything in her willpower not to cry. "Goddammit! Why is this happening to me?"
"Maybe we should take you to the emergency room," Max says sternly. "We have to make sure you'll be okay."
Panic rises on Chloe face. "Please no, Max," she pleads. "I don't want mom or step-dick involved. That's the last thing I need right now."
Max kneels beside the bed and looks into Chloe's eyes, concerned. "What if it's serious?" Max says, terrified and voice trembling. "Then what, Chloe?"
Chloe shakes her head vigorously. "I said no!" Max jolts back. Chloe sighs. "Sorry, Max. I didn't mean to snap at you." Chloe inhales and exhales slowly, finding some composure. "Can you please just get me some fucking painkillers or a heating pad or some shit? This shit's torture."
Max nods. "Whatever you need, Chloe."
Chloe's lips curl up, just barely. "Thank you, Max," she says. "Seriously. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Max avoids Victoria's room and heads over to Kate's door. She knocks, but there's no answer. Kate is probably out studying with Warren and Brooke. Which means… Brooke isn't here either. Great. Max heads down the hall and knocks on Dana's door. She can hear Trevor from inside. Max gulps. She hopes she's not interrupting anything.
Dana opens the door, swinging her hips and smiling. "Hey, Max! What's up?"
"Chloe's having really bad cramps," Max says, expression somber. "I was wondering if you had any meds or maybe a heating pad."
"That's awful," Dana says with sympathy. She ponders. "Yeah, I definitely have some pain meds she can take. And I'm pretty sure I have a heating pad lying around here somewhere. Just hold on for a sec. Us girls need to help each other out, you know?"
After a few minutes of searching, Dana returns to the door with a small box of Advil and a heating pad. Max beams. "Thank you so much," she says.
"No problem," Dana says. "Chloe can borrow it for however long she needs. But I checked the box, and there's not much left. If I were you, I'd run down to the store and pick up some more."
"Thanks again, Dana."
"Anytime, Max."
Max returns to her room. She finds Chloe on her knees with her head tucked in between, a ball of pain. God. Poor Chloe. Max goes to the power strip and plugs in the heating pad. She reaches for a water bottle underneath her bed and sits next to Chloe on the bed's edge.
"Take this," Max says as she hands Chloe the heating pad. "I also brought you some Advil, but there's not much left. I'm going to the store to get you some more." Chloe unfolds from her wringed state to apply the heating pad. She sits up to take the medicine, but lies on her back after she does. Max takes the blanket on her bed and drapes it over Choe. "Is there anything else you want me to get for you?"
"Yeah," Chloe replies weakly. "I could use more tampons. And get us some chips and popcorn. We should stream a movie or something so it's not completely depressing as my uterus descends into hell on your bed." Chloe lets out a feeble smile. "You're hella awesome, Max. Thanks."
"Let me know if you need anything else, okay?"
"Ugh, you sound like my mom."
Max pouts. "Joyce rocks!"
Chloe rolls her eyes. "Whatever," she says, throat dry and voice weak. "Just get your ass in gear and go get my shit, hippie."
The sun beats down on Arcadia Bay's residents and is perched high in the sky. It's warm but not hot, and there's a slight breeze that feels nice when it brushes against the skin. Students are sprawled out, some looking peaceful as they soak in the sunlight. It's a beautiful day. Max takes out her camera, aims it at her face, and snaps a picture.
The Arcadia Bay Grocery & Deli is only a few blocks away from Blackwell, situated at a convenient cornerstone location for its students. Max replays the mental checklist in her head. Advil. Tampons. Chips. Popcorn. She furrows her brow. Maybe some soda would go well with everything. Max takes a basket and begins searching for the items, going in order to ensure she doesn't miss a single one. Advil. Tampons. Chips. Popcorn. And yeah, I guess I'll grab a soda.
Only one checkout lane is open. Of course. It's quite a line too, and one poor soul is working the registers alone. It's definitely understaffed here. Max takes out her phone from her pocket to check the time. Someone nudges her arm. Max looks over her shoulder to find Nathan Prescott, who stands behind her nonchalantly.
"Hey Max," he says. He scans her items with his eyes. "Some movie night you got going on or some shit?"
Max tilts her head. "Actually, yeah," she says, amused. She scans his items. Alcohol and cigarettes, with various snacks thrown in. Not in the least bit surprising. "Vortex Club party tonight?"
Nathan shrugs. "Eh, not really," he says. "More like a night in doing shit with friends. Nothing fancy, but enough to get fucked up in just the right ways, you know?"
"Actually I don't."
Nathan rolls his eyes. "Right, right. I keep forgetting. Little miss pure and wholesome or fucking whateva. I still think you should get high at least once in your life. It's fun as hell, and believe it or not, I think you'd like it if that stick wasn't shoved so tight up your ass." He is glancing at her with a smirk, and Max ponders if he's sending her an invitation. He raises an eyebrow, and Max thinks maybe he really is.
"Thanks for the tip," is all she can say. Max glimpses at him, bemused. "You're purchasing alcohol?" she asks, incredulous. "You're what? Eighteen?"
Nathan snickers. "And? Nobody's gonna say or do shit about it since my father essentially owns this town." He kicks his foot in the air and huffs. "The one good thing about being his son, I suppose."
"Cut him out of your life," Max says bluntly, and she stares at Nathan with serious eyes. He stares right back at her, doe-eyed. That's when Max remembers that the two of them are out in line waiting to checkout at a grocery store, in public. This isn't like the other times she's held more than thirty seconds of interaction with him. "Honestly," she continues in a softer tone. "It seems like you'd be so much happier if he wasn't involved."
"Well, you're probably right," Nathan says in a low voice, "but shit's not that simple."
Max nods. "Yeah, I understand."
The line has grown much shorter during their conversation, and Max begins loading her items onto the checkout conveyor belt when the lights abruptly go out. People look around curiously, waiting for the power to kick on again. Police sirens begin to sound from outside. The manager of the store suddenly sprints to the entrance, frantically gesturing at the girl at the register to follow him.
"We need to lock this place down!" he says in a hurry. The girl at the register seems confused and reluctant. The manager waves his arms wildly. "Now!" The girl jolts and begins rushing towards the entrance with rapid speed. The manager whips around to face the people waiting in line. "Everyone, go towards the back of the store and get down! There's a robbery going on next door!" he orders and then continues heading for the entrance.
Baskets clatter against the ground and feet shuffle rapidly against the tile floors as storewide chaos sets in. People range from having panicked whispers to hyperventilation while some other customers standing frozen in terror. Max drops her basket and turns around to find Nathan clenching his fists, eyes on the floor, motionless. Max reaches for the sleeve of his jacket and gently tugs at it.
"Nathan," she says. "We need to move. It isn't safe here."
Nathan opens the palms of his hands and snaps out of his trance, making eye contact with Max. His head bobs and his breath quivers. "I can't believe this is fucking happening," he says. "Yeah, let's go."
Max and Nathan follow the mass of shoppers to the corner of the store that is the furthest from the entrance, which happens to be the dairy section. They sit down as more people continue to sit alongside them, and soon there is an entire cluster of frightened shoppers huddled together as police sirens continue to echo outside. Max whips out her phone and sends a few quick texts to Chloe.
MAX: I'm stuck at the grocery store. There's a robbery going on nearby.
CHLOE: Holy fucking shit, please for the love of god stay safe.
MAX: Thanks. I hope the Advil is working.
CHLOE: It is. Max Caulfield, you fucking better come back to me. I can't lose you.
MAX: I'll do my best, Chloe.
The cold air emitting from the refrigerated items causes goosebumps to appear on Max's skin, and she crosses her arms and rubs them furiously for warmth. It had to be the dairy section. Of course. This day just keeps getting better and better. Nathan glances over at her, with a peculiar expression on his face.
"You're cold?" he asks in a hushed tone.
Max rolls her eyes. "No shit," she whispers back.
Nathan pulls his arms out of his sleeves, stripping off his jacket. He drops it onto Max's lap. Max's fingers wrap around it loosely; she is too awestruck to do anything. Never in a million years did she think Nathan Prescott would be letting her borrow his jacket. Truly, this is an iconic moment. One for the history books. Nathan nudges her with his elbow. "You just gonna fucking stare it at or are you gonna put it on?" he asks in low murmur. "I'm not the one freezing my ass off here. This shit'll keep you warm."
Max cracks a smile. She stares Nathan's jacket for a couple for more seconds before putting it on. It's so comfy, being smooth on the inside and quite soft on the outside. And Nathan wasn't joking; Max notices how she is instantly warming up. This is the stuff Max wishes she could afford but can't. "Is this Nathan Prescott I'm talking to?" Max asks quietly. "I didn't know you were capable of pulling off such a cheesy move. My hero."
"Hey, I can be nice sometimes," Nathan says in defense. He scrunches his face and ponders. "Well, once in awhile. As long as people don't piss me off. Or push me around. Or get in my way." He sighs and tugs at his shirt collar, and Max watches as he slumps. "I'm trying. Old habits are a bitch to kill."
"I've been noticing," Max tells him. "I think you're really making a difference."
Nathan perks up, locking eyes with Max. "You really think so?"
Max nods gently. "Yeah, I do. Don't get me wrong, though; I still think the Vortex Club is elitist trash. But I've noticed that students have been feeling safer. I think that's amazing."
Nathan doesn't reply. His brows are furrowed and he seems lost in thought. And maybe content. Hell, Max isn't a mind reader, even though she likes to believe she's better at deciphering others than the average person. Max sucks in a deep breath and places her hands in the pockets of Nathan's jackets. More police sirens whirr, and she can see streaks of blue and red from the furthest window. Something is being sputtered through a megaphone, but it's far enough away that it's indiscernible. The people around her either chatting quietly amongst themselves or crying softly.
A gunshot. Everyone shakes in apprehension. Max's whole body stiffens, her hands trembling. People start huddling inwards. Max is forced to scoot closer to Nathan, and now they're shoulder to shoulder. Max is also shoulder to shoulder with someone else, a stranger, and yet Max wonders if he goes to Blackwell as well. Max notices Nathan tense up beside her. His leg is trembling slightly, and he leans towards Max, whispering in her ear.
"These people are getting too close," he admits. "I don't do so well when I'm fucking cramped like this. This shit is starting to freak me out." He's constantly shifting his position and Max can tell: Nathan's really getting agitated. More so than she's seen him before. "I can't stay like this, Max," he pleads softly. "I need to get out of here. I just need some room to fucking breathe."
"Okay, Nathan," Max says as evenly as she can. She places a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We can move to the edge. Would that be better for you?"
Nathan nods quickly. "Yeah. Thanks Max."
Max and Nathan gradually scoot their way outside the crowd of terrified civilians, apologizing quietly to whomever they cross paths with. No one protests their movement, and everyone is eager to let Max and Nathan linger on the outskirts while the rest of them pack inwards more tightly. Nathan leans against the transparent refrigerating that houses ice cream. Max sits next to Nathan, sandwiched between him and a random person, but at a comfortable distance from the latter.
A couple of minutes pass without them speaking to each other. There is hushed chit-chat amongst the other grocery store shoppers. All Max can think about is how the situation next door is unfolding, when it will all be over, if it will all be over. She tries her best not to quiver so much. Then, Nathan nudges Max. It startles her, but she keeps herself level. She turns to look at him.
"Yeah?" she says.
Nathan scratches his head, almost appearing timid. "It's nothing," he says, and Max narrows her eyes. He hums, and shifts his position slightly. "It's just fucking weird you're not talking as much. I don't know. I guess talking to you when crazy shit happens helps keep my cool or whateva."
"To be honest," Max says in a hushed voice, "I'm really freaked out. There's this huge feeling of dread that won't go away. You probably can't tell, but I'm shaking." Max takes her left hand out of the jacket's pocket. Nathan briefly holds her hand, and he feels it tremble slightly. After a few seconds, he awkwardly removes his hand. Max continues, shoving her own hand back inside the jacket. "This situation isn't like the others. Those were just inconveniences. This time, it's serious. All that's on my mind now is just hoping we all make it out of here safely."
Nathan points his attention toward the ground. "You're tougher than you look," he tells her. "Yeah, the rollercoaster thing was annoying as hell for sure. But when we were trapped in that elevator, that shit was fucking scary to me." He gulps. Max looks at him attentively. "When I was a kid, my father would sometimes lock me in a closet as punishment for being a fucking disappointment, like I always am. And we're not talking ten minutes here. I'd be stuck in there for fucking hours. And the switch for the light was on the outside, so I was trapped there in the dark, with no way out. It was shitty as hell."
Max's eyes widen. Max frowns and imagines what it would be like to be so young and so helpless in a situation like that. A deep sense of anger, yet also sadness, strikes a chord inside of her. "That's awful," she whispers. "That can really mess you up. What kind of parent does that to their child?"
Nathan grunts, and he tightens his fists. "The shitty kind," he says softly. "Anyways, being in that elevator reopened all that bullshit. That's part of the reason why I was on edge the whole time we were stuck in that thing. But you weren't fazed by it at all. Back then, I didn't know if we were gonna be rescued or not. It just seems to me like anyone else would freak the fuck out. And even just now, when you told me you were shaking and shit, it caught me off guard. Jesus, you still look fucking calm; I don't know how you fucking do it."
"I don't know what to tell you," Max says quietly. "I guess I'm just naturally calm in the face of danger." She looks at Nathan with peculiar eyes. "I'm impressed. You're really carrying the conversation this time. It helps distract me." Max flashes a soft smile, and Nathan returns it. "Talking to you when crazy shit happens is really nice."
Nathan rubs the back of his neck. It looks like he wants to say something, but doesn't quite know what to say. Max eases up a little, her muscles loosening a bit as she leans back against the refrigerator. She stares at her legs, which are criss-crossed. Another couple of minutes pass by without either of them speaking. Suddenly, Max hears Nathan clear his throat, and he speaks.
"This is gonna seem out of nowhere," he says, "but I was wondering." Their eyes lock. "Why do you wanna be a photographer so fucking bad?" Max shoots him an odd look. "No offense. I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I just think since, you know, you're not rich or anything—" He stops himself. Max is side eyeing him. "Shit. Jesus, I'm not fucking good at this. What I'm trying to say is that art's not always about talent. Being rich and having connections is what really fucking matters. How did Vic put it? 'The art game is brutal' or some shit like that." Nathan sighs. "Fuck, I don't know where the hell I was going with this."
"I think I know what you're trying to say," Max says. She ponders and hums. "I've wanted it ever since I was a little kid. Photography is a part of who I am." Max smiles, nostalgia striking her. "I love how lets me view the world from afar, but close enough to be connected to it. And to have the opportunity to make a career out of that? Hell yes. I know it's tough to get yourself out there, but I don't think I can be anything but a photographer. I don't care if people think it's not a 'sensible' career path. I don't have a passion for anything else. Not like I do for photography."
Nathan doesn't say anything for a few seconds; he just stares at Max with what could quite possibly be a hint of admiration behind his eyes. When Nathan finally speaks, his voice wavers with awe. "And your parents?" he asks. "They support your goals and shit?"
"They do," Max says, and she catches herself smiling again. "I'm forever grateful."
Nathan focuses his attention to the floor. He fiddles with his fingers, clenching and unclenching them into loose fists. "You're lucky, Max," he says. "Not everyone has parents like yours." He sneers. "My father just thinks I'm doing this shit as a hobby. He doesn't believe I have the balls to make a career out of it. What the fuck does he know? Because I don't see it that way."
Max glances over at him, intrigued. "Really?" she asks. "How do you see it? I always love to hear different perspectives from my fellow photographers."
Nathan leans back. "It's therapeutic as hell," he says. "It helps me project whatevathefuck I'm feeling without having to keep it bottled inside me. If I didn't have photography, I'd probably be worse off than I am now, and that's saying shit. But it's cool. I'm cool." He takes a deep breath and then exhales slowly. He eyes Max. "There's something else that's been on mind," he admits. "I gotta ask: why the retro look? I get that you've got that whole indie hipster bullshit going for you, but why?"
Max laughs softly. It feels good to laugh, especially in such a highly stressful situation that is beyond her control. It also feels good to talk with Nathan Prescott like this, because let's face it, she hardly ever gets the chance. It finally seems like they're having a normal conversation, one that isn't intense and doesn't make Max want to pull her hair out. To gain insight into his viewpoints is something Max never thought would happen. And yet here she is.
"You could say it's my aesthetic," Max says, and she grins. "I'm just drawn to it. I also like that it distinguishes me as photographer, because not a lot of people are doing it. It's something I can call mine. I know that probably sounds selfish, and it is. I don't care, though. Everyone wants to be known for something. Hayden called me a 'retro selfie master' once. I could get used to that."
Nathan snorts. "You are something else, Max Caulfield," he says. "No wonder Vic's intimidated by you. You got your own style and you make it your own." He bobs his head lightly. "I can respect that. Don't get me wrong; I don't think selfies are the way to go. Too egocentric for my tastes." He raises his hands in defense. "But hey, that's just me, so don't start bitching."
Max smirks. "Maybe you should lighten up on your material," she tells him. "Photograph some cute puppies wearing pajamas and sleeping in a field of flowers. Ditch the whole black and white aesthetic, because that's so basic. But hey, that's just me."
"Meow," Nathan says, a smug grin slapped across his face. "You're feistier than you look. I didn't know this side of you existed. I like it."
Max rolls her eyes. "I didn't know you could not be a total ass," she quips. "I like it."
Nathan laughs, and moments after he does, the entire store begins to light up, slowly but surely. Everyone looks around at each other, hesitant to move. Just because the lights are back doesn't mean everything is in the clear. A heavy silence falls over the entire crowd. It is eerily quiet. Max holds her breath. The distorted sound of a megaphone blasts from outside.
The manager of the store walks over to the huddle of shoppers. "Just got a call from ABPD," he tells them. "It's confirmed. You're all free to go!"
A huge wave of relief overtakes the crowd. People sigh and begin to mumble amongst themselves, and one by one, they start getting up from the ground. Max's body eases up; she can truly be at peace now. She glances at Nathan, who seems to have relaxed as well. He catches a glimpse of her and flashes a soft smile. Max returns it. They too stand up, saying nothing for a moment and just soaking in the fact that they're safe and they made it.
Nathan looks at Max, grinning and shaking his head. "You know," he begins, "it's weird as hell. I don't know why, but ridiculous shit tends to happen whenever we run into each other outside of school."
Max pauses for a minute, and really ponders it. The boy is right. Is it coincidence? Fate? The thought of it is rather entertaining. "That is weird," she says, amused. Max eyes him slyly. "Maybe the universe is hinting that we should avoid each other."
Nathan grins. He wiggles his eyebrows at Max. "Or maybe," he begins, "the universe is hinting that we should be together."
They both share a laugh. It has certainly been quite a ride, but Max is grateful for it. At the very least, they aren't enemies. At the very least, being stuck together in various inconvenient and tense situations has given them some time to get to know a little more about each other, something that wouldn't happen under normal circumstances. And at the very least, perhaps they can become friends, eventually.
Perhaps they already are.
Fin.
Part 3 of 3.