CHAPTER 4

Chloe slowly roused from the darkness, feeling as if her entire being had been scattered to the four winds, and was only now coalescing anew. She awoke to an existence that felt increasingly pleasant the more she became aware of it.

She was somewhere warm and soft. Comfortable. Lying down on her side, obviously in bed; she'd been initially expecting to wake up from her dream lying on the carpet, or against the cold tile of the bathroom.

Huh. Must have managed to crawl back to bed. Awwww man. What a dream! What a fucking nightmare. Frank and his old mutt - fuck! I haven't thought about those guys in years.. And poor Rachel, that night I lied to her. Shit, I actually dreamed I went back and told her about her Mom, like I should have. I was so convinced it was real! I wanted it to be, so damn much.

Jesus Christ, people are right, maybe I oughta get a therapist or some shit. I'm clearly cracking up.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself in the bedroom of her condo in Las Vegas….

...but something was different.

Many somethings.

Different bed.

Different furniture.

Different artwork on the walls

...different...oh no, wait. Not all of it. Some things she recognized as belonging to her, but there were other possessions that she swore she never saw before. Posters of fantasy scenes featuring warrior women locked in mortal combat with ruthless beasts. Shelves brimming with books, not all of which she recognized. And strangest of all, it was tidy to a fault and well laid out, like someone put careful thought and effort into where each and every bit was placed.

Ho. Lee. Fuck! How drunk did I get last night?!

Either Chloe suddenly acquired much better decorating skills and then, in the span of one night, purchased an entire bedroom set and moved it in, or…

"...mmmove over, baby. Gotta crash."

Someone gently pushed their way under the covers.

A female someone.

A familiar female someone.

"Steph?"

"Sorry if I woke you. Up all night on those last minute changes. Oh. My God" Steph gave a huge, deep yawn, before snuggling up possessively against Chloe's side. "Getting to know celebrities on a semi-personal-slash-professional basis is the worst. 'Cause...you're like friends, and they kinda respect your suggestions, but then you still gotta do All The Shit, 'cause really you're just an employee. But I get to call them by their first name. Anyhow, "It's Britney, Bitch" better be happy after all that, s'all I gotta say."

Chloe gasped, staying perfectly still as Steph pulled her in for a close hug and whispered, "All worth it though. Because I get to come home to you." Her mouth was then quickly claimed in a firm yet sleepy kiss.

The hell! How drunk DID I get last night?!

Suddenly, an intoxicating familiarity overtook her brain. An instinctive sense of rightness. That she'd done this a thousand times before, and hoped fervently to do it a million times more before she died. Steph knew how she liked to be kissed, and Chloe in turn knew how to kiss her back. She felt so incredible in her arms: safe and supported. She couldn't think of any other place she'd rather be.

There was a playful swat on her rear, and Steph murmured, "Mmmm. Noooooooo. Don't make me horny, Ms. Gingrich-Price. Too tired. Seriously, just wake me in the afternoon, 'kay. We can get an early dinner, 'n go to a show or somethin'. And then we come back here and you can gimme dessert." She closed her eyes, smiled mischievously, and Chloe felt herself being pushed out of the bed.

"Gogogo. Check on your shop or something. Pretend that Roy doesn't do all the real work. Get your sexy ass away from me so I can sleep."

Chloe laughed, feeling lightheaded. There was something in the back of her brain that was blooming. Like a flower, one with brilliant petals slowly unfurling; the more it revealed itself, the more everything felt Exactly The Way It Should Be.

Before she could walk out of the room, Steph grabbed her wrist and placed a kiss on her palm.

"I love you."

"I love you, too." Chloe whispered reflexively, with genuine emotion and intent.

Before she could consider the ramifications of what was going on, there was a loud *SNAP* that clicked in her head…

It's Stephanie Price-Gingrich. Her wife. Almost a whole year now, they've been married. The girl who was there for her, when Rachel left town, left her behind. The woman she chased after, when she graduated Blackwell. The one who followed her to Vegas, where they could both pursue their crazy dreams. She was her strength, her rock. The answer to the equation that was her life. Of course she loved her. She always had, ever since…

By the time she finally managed to snap out of whatever strange fugue state overpowered her, Chloe found herself in the living room, sitting at the table and eating a bowl of cereal.

The fuck just happened?!

Clearly she had no clue, but she knew that whatever was happening was real. The memories of the life she thought she knew warred with new ones that burst into life in vibrant color and clarity. What she thought what she knew was the Truth faded so slowly away; remembered still, but with the fading impact of a bad dream.

Oh God. Oh my fucking God! Did I actually do it?! Did I somehow get the power to go back in time and change history? So how come I'm still here in Vegas? Why am I married to Steph, why not….why not Rachel?

Of course not Rachel. Why would she be? Not after...after…

What happened?

There were still gaping holes in her mind. Vague outlines, like a pencil sketch waiting to be inked and colored. As Chloe glanced over at one of the bookshelves, a picture caught her eye. She rose to her feet and walked over to get a better look.

Before she focused on the picture, she was immediately shocked by her reflection in the glass. It was her, and yet...it wasn't. Gone was the punk hairdo, the black and blue spiky feathers and shaved sides. Her hair was longer, down to her shoulders, like how she used to wear it when she was younger. It was her natural blonde on top, but flowed out into a riot of rainbow-hued tendrils. It looked like a complicated dye-job, like something that might cost a good chunk of money to have a professional do.

But there was more to it than just the hair. She simply looked...better. Happier. Less haggard. No black circles under eyes that were no longer sunken in. This Chloe looked like someone who gave a damn about how she looked, because maybe she finally had a reason to. She glanced down at her body, and was clearly in better overall shape. A little more toned, a little less gaunt.

Wow. Look at you, Chloe!

She reached up, touching the necklace hanging near her throat. Three bullet casings. One of which was somehow compressed, as if crushed between two powerful fingers.

Holy shit! It's true! It's fucking true! Frank's stupid plan actually worked!

Before she could continue to gape in wonder at the changes in her appearance, her gaze was fully captured by the picture in the frame.

There she was, years ago. Half-smiling, half-glowering at the camera. Dressed up in a waitress uniform, and standing inside the Two Whales Diner…

...Rachel wasn't able to wait for her any longer. It was Chloe's fault, really. How could she expect the leonine beauty to hang around in Arcadia Bay after completely destroying her good opinion of the man who had been most important in her life? Especially after revealing the worst possible truth of all: that James Amber was a monster. A manipulator. Every bit as craven and selfish as her poor mother, her real mother, was always accused of being.

At least, that's how Rachel saw it, after that night in the hospital.

They were all set, the two of them. To run away together and never look back. To say 'Fuck you later!' to Arcadia Bay with no regrets or sorrow. They could take anything the world threw at them, as long as they had each other.

But the damndest thing happened before they could escape.

"Joyce broke her foot, okay?! It was a stupid accident. But David doesn't make enough on his own, and the two of 'em are almost bankrupt already. I can't just leave! I...I gotta help. Just long enough until she can work again, okay? Please? A few weeks. Can't you just wait a little longer?"

"I'm sorry, Chloe. But I can't. I've waited long enough! I can't spend another day in this town! Everything here reminds me of him! All I see are lies. Nothing but his fucking lies. Look, you don't have to come with me. I'll go ahead and then you...you can just follow me. That'll work, right?"

Rachel flashed her that smile, and Chloe knew she'd never be able to say no.

And in her heart of hearts, she knew this was the moment she'd lost Rachel forever.

"Y-yeah. Yeah. I mean, it'll be better that way. You can get it all set up and ready for the both of us."

"That's right. Just...Chloe, I'm sorry to ask, but I need the truck. Only to borrow, I mean. I don't have any other way of getting out of town. You're coming back for it anyhow, right? Bet I'm making enough money in a few weeks, I can send you a plane ticket. Seriously, I've got at least two or three modeling agencies that want to meet with me!"

"It's really great, Rachel. You're right. Only bump in the road. I'm gonna get to you as soon as I can."

"I know you will." Rachel leaned in to kiss her.

On the cheek.

Chloe dutifully handed over the keys; she'd never been so aware of how glamoured she was by Rachel, nor how helpless to resist giving the other girl exactly what she wanted.

The next day, she reported for duty, temporarily taking over Joyce's position.

David glances down at the digital camera, then regards her with a smile: one filled with admiration and respect.

"I know this is tough, Chloe. But I want you to know how proud your Mom and I are. And...uh. I guess I owe you an apology. She'd keep telling me that I wasn't seeing the best side of you, that I just needed to give it time. And the right challenge. Well, she was right. You could have run off with that friend of yours, but you're doing the right thing instead. I know you got this."

Chloe gives a pained smile; she fucking hates that there's a part of her that agrees, that actually enjoys this weird, new respect she's managed to earn. She feels like the worst, a total sellout. Someone who's given up on all her dreams, just as she turned seventeen.

With a resigned sigh, she settles into her routine, shuffling through the days and lonely nights.

A couple weeks pass, and she repeats the same mantra she recites at each and every table.

"Welcome to the Two Whales. What can I get you?"

Steph and Mikey look up from the booth. "Oh! Hey Chloe. I heard you were working here now. Cool."

Steph gives her a smile. It's the first thing that's buoyed her spirits since Rachel left.

Chloe almost dropped the picture as she came back to herself. She looked down at it again, and realized she remembered more and more of the past. The new and improved one, slowly absorbing but not yet completely erasing the old. It was one of the strangest sensations she'd ever experienced.

Oh God, that's right! Rachel lived in my house for a few months after she got out of the hospital, but finally left town. Mom broke her foot when she tripped on the hose in the backyard, after Rachel and me were using it. The diner offered to let me work in her place until she was better and…

And then? The answers were there, so tantalizingly close, yet still out of reach. But it was only a matter of time. It was quickly becoming clear that the more she walked around the condo, the more she let her mind wander and reminisce, the more revelations of her new past would be gently unlocked.

Man, this is way better than that stupid Ashton Kutcher movie!

Walking around the living room, Chloe started casually reaching out for objects as she waited for something to happen. When one minute passed into five without any fresh revelation, a knot of worry began blossoming in the pit of her stomach. On instinct she reached out towards a row of books on one of the nearby shelves, dragging her fingers upon the spines until she suddenly stopped at a well-worn copy of the 4th Edition Dungeons and Dragon's Player's Guide…

...Chloe clutches her new copy of the 4th Edition Dungeons and Dragons Player's Guide as she walks towards the table. It's a lovely day, the warm last gasps of the fading summer. She raises a hand towards Steph, Mikey, and some other brown-haired boy she doesn't recognize.

"Chloe! You made it." Mikey calls out, clearly delighted by her return. They haven't played since their game in the hospital, when he was recovering.

The same time as Rachel.

"Well, yeah. I mean, you nerds were the ones who invited me, right?" she says with a wink.

Steph smirks, making a softly harsh noise in the back of her throat. "Yeah, but we just did it to be nice. We didn't figure that Ms. Too-Cool-For-School would grace us with her presence.

If it were anyone else, Chloe might take offense, but she can see the twinkle in Steph's eye, the good-natured teasing. She'll never admit it, but the couple of times she played with the group, she enjoyed it. It took her mind off a terrible, trying time in her life, and now that she has practically no one and nothing left in it now, she could use all the friends and diversions she can get.

"Well, that just goes to show you how awesome I am, letting you geeks hang around me, swimming in my wake like I'm a shark, and you're remoras.

"Remoras actually attach to the underside of the shark's belly using a flat, suction-cup like disc on the top of their head. Much more efficient than trying to keep up."

Chloe tilts her head as she observes the new kid.

She already isn't a fan.

"Uh...who's this?"

"Oh! This is Warren!" Mikey enthuses. "He just started school this year. We totally hit it off the first day, he knows a lot of things. It's great having another player in the group." He pauses, then gives an embarrassed laugh, "Not that I wasn't hoping you'd come back. Actually, this'll be perfect. Three players and the DM? It's gonna be great!"

Chloe slides onto one of the benches, giving Warren a single curt nod, before favoring Mikey with an affable and more authentic smile.

"How's your brother doing?"

"Great! Drew just wrote me an e-mail yesterday. College sounds so cool, I can't wait. Oh! And my Dad found a new job! It doesn't pay a lot, but with Drew getting a full ride, he only needs to take care of just the two of us."

Chloe purses her lips, twitching them together in thought briefly, before reaching out and playfully rubbing the top of Mikey's head. "Yeah well, as I've so recently learned, we gotta do what we gotta do to survive. Anyhow, that's awesome. Hella jazzed to hear it, you guys deserve a break." With that, she turns to Steph and slips her a character sheet for review.

"Annnnnyhow...I got a copy of your nerd bible, read the rules, and put together something that should work. You said we should make level six characters, right?"

"Y….eeeeeah," Steph answers, clearly not expecting Chloe to have taken her advice to heart, but pleased all the same. "Honestly though, I just figured we'd find an excuse to bring Callimastia back."

"Hah! Yeah, she was fun, but that's all in the past. Now that I understand all the kick-ass hella cool shit you can get away with in this game, I made something a little more…" with this, Chloe spreads her hands out with a dramatic flourish, "Chlo-tastical! Behold!"

Steph stares down at the sheet, then glances back up. In a monotone, she asks with disbelief, "Bard...arella?"

"Bardarella! A level six half-elf Bard from the Kingdom of Mhelodicah! With the pink mohawk…" she reaches over, pointing over proudly to the character portrait she illustrated on the sheet, "fashionable leather armor, and for my one magic item that you allow? A long-necked lute, with a minor electrical elemental spirit bound to it. Plus-one bonus to all bard-specific character class rolls, because of the way the magic amplifies my music."

"You...made a punk rocker," Steph pointedly states, seemingly unamused. "With an electric guitar."

"Your words, not mine, although now that you bring it up, she does play a brash, aggressive new style of music that many of the simple villagers say has the energy and thunder of a rolling avalanche of rocks."

"I'm not calling her Bardarella, Chloe," Steph counters. Her faint smile belies her affected weary cynicism.

"You all can call her anything you want, but she's only gonna answer to that name."

"I think she's really cool! I mean, Callimastia was cool too, but this is better! Because it's a character you made all by yourself," Mikey enthuses.

"Wow. This is...you actually put this together correctly," Steph says. "I was expecting to find a screw up, or that you'd min-max like a total munchkin, since it's your first character, but despite the stupid name that I refuse to use, this is good. Well balanced, thematically fitting...kinda. You actually read the book. More to the point, you understood it."

"Hey, don't sound so hella surprised. This isn't like doing taxes. You should see the prep books I'm going through for taking the GED. That's actually a challenge. Almost."

At this, Steph tilts her head, obviously impressed. "Look at you. Getting your shit together, Price. We'll make a total nerd of you yet."

Chloe leans in and gives Steph a wry, mischievous wink, "Don't count on it."

"Can we start already?" Warren asks peevishly.

Wasting no time, Steph gets the group settled, clears her throat, and begins.

"Okay...The Half-Elf-Formerly-Known-As-Bardarella. You're journeying down a well-trod country road which serves as the main highway between the Kingdom of Scorpalia and the Barony of Dukanthrax. Ahead lies a pair of fellow adventures, a human obviously clad in wizard robes, and a dragonkin fitted in plate mail. They're surrounded by highwaymen who've managed to catch them unawares. What do you do?"

Chloe smiles, steeples her fingers, and murmurs, "Time for me to rock everyone's faces off."

By the time the memory-vision faded, Chloe was sitting on the couch, smiling to herself as she reminisced, staring at the old character sheet that was crammed between the pages of her player's guide. Over the two years she faithfully played with the group, her bard grew in treasure, skill and experience, rising all the way up to level thirteen.

Everything was coming to Chloe...coming back for the first time. Flashes of memory softly exploded into life and cemented in her brain: hanging out and smoking with Steph after their game sessions were over; Mikey and Warren helping her prepare for her GED exam; Continuing to work at the diner, even after her Mom returned to work, in order to slowly build up her savings.

As lives go, it wasn't half bad.

Actually, it was pretty good.

She and Rachel talked a handful of times, but after a while, she stopped returning her emails and text messages.

Max never got back in touch with her, but Chloe eventually stopped trying. Or caring.

Well...caring as much.

About the two best friends, the ones who went away, who abandoned her.

It was hard to get close to people again after that. She couldn't help but wonder if she was cursed, if life wasn't playing a cruel prank on her. All of that came to a head in May of 2013, though. Near the end of Steph's senior year.

That's when both their lives changed. Forever.

"Okay," Chloe said to the empty room, "Can I take a break here or is this shit just going to keep…"

"...going. I don't understand why, though? You let Mikey do it." Warren says, with a growing note of petulancy in his voice.

"That's because it was a lower-level spell from version three; it wasn't gamebreaking, yo." Steph replies, her patience nearly worn down to a nub. "There's a reason why that game mechanic you wanna use didn't make it to version four. I can't believe we're still having this stupid conversation!"

Chloe can practically hear the dice cracking in Steph's clenched fist. Though things with the group were usually more good than bad, there'd been a weird shift in the dynamic over the past few months. One would think that after two years of playing together, all the rough spots would be smooth as silk, but Warren, who was always kind of a rules-lawyery pill, was increasingly getting on everyone's nerves. Even Mikey, who was usually Warren's biggest defender, was getting tired of it.

If there was one thing Chloe learned after all this time, it was to simply tune this bullshit out when it was happening. She knew when to plead her case with Steph, and when to fall back. More importantly, over the years the years, she'd learned to trust and respect her friend's role as the Dungeon Master. Warren never did though, not all the way, and Chloe can't help but wonder if it's just a fucked up guy thing, or if he would be just as shitty to a male DM.

She flicks her gaze over to Mikey, giving him a sympathetic, knowing roll of her eyes. He and Warren usually got along, but they'd never become the absolute best of friends. Warren had a tendency to dominate and talk over the shy, soft-spoken young boy.

At least, he did until Chloe gave him some support and encouragement about standing his own ground.

"Look, this isn't worth fighting about, Warren. C'mon man, this is the last game we're ever gonna play as the group. Win or lose, we told an epic story. Don't go making it weird," Mikey admonishes.

"Yeah, yeah, I know it's the last one, why do you think I'm trying to hard to make sure…"

Chloe slips her earbuds back in, chooses a song on her phone, and waits until this is all over.

Another minute passes before a fist slams down on the table, drawing her immediate attention.

Steph's fist.

"Fine Warren, fine! You want an 'epic ending'? Here it is, you shit: Little do any of you realize that the creature whose lair you've foolishly stumbled into is no mere black dragon, but is indeed Zaiju the Undying, a lich who has seen empires rise and crumble in but the merest breath of his unnatural lifespan. With hardly any effort expended, he breathes an acid upon you which no known magic or shield can repel." Steph leans in close, her eyes wide and wheeling with anger as she vents her fury upon Warren.

"Flesh and sinew is flensed from your bones. All of you die horribly, and your only solace is that you never live to see the terror and destruction the Elder Wyrm, now awakened from centuries of slumber by your idiocy, wreaks upon the entire world. The. Fucking. End.

Chloe blinks. Mikey is stunned. Warren is red-faced, jaw hanging open.

But none of them are prepared for what happens next, least of all her.

"Except you, Chloe." Steph says, with a much calmer, fonder tone of voice. "You survive, because...because you're cute. And you always brought pizza, and because you're so into this, and funny, and smart, and…"

Chloe's cheeks are held between warm fingers. Warmer lips press against her own. Steph's kiss, while short, lacks nothing in emotional depth, and she's left stunned by the moment, with the taste of cherry lip shimmer spreading across the tip of her tongue.

"See you, assholes." Steph exclaims, once she pulls back. Rising up, she grabs a notecard from behind her DM screen and drops it into Chloe's lap before running out of the student lounge.

None of them say a word for the better part of a minute.

"What...what was that?! What the hell was that?" Warren demands.

Chloe flicks her eyes curiously down at the notecard, as Mikey asks, "What did Steph give you?"

"Oh. Huh. I guess if we defeated the dragon, there were a bunch of artifacts in his lootpile. I got a Wishbringer Stone. Oh….that sounds hella cool."

"Great! Yeah, so wish us back!" Warren says with glee.

Fixing a disbelieving look on the boy, Chloe mutters, "Seriously? Jesus Graham, I can't believe you're acting like the game's still going on. This is why no one really likes you. Christ." She looks over to Mikey, "I mean, she's our friend, and we ought to follow after her and apologize."

Mikey gives her a pained smile.

"I think she wants you to go after her. Just you. I'll catch up later."

She thinks to protest, but the knowing look in Mikey's eyes, and the heat still on her lips makes her think better of it.

Rising to her feet, she says, "Okay, so Bardy wishes for the dragon-god to disappear forever and in his place, Elamon to be restored to life. The two of them celebrate with epic feasting and merriment, and share the treasure with all of the surrounding kingdoms. Elemon goes on to be a powerful, respected, and beloved Arch-Wizard of the Black Quartz College, and Bardarella retires to a private island paradise, surrounded by her own amazon entourage. The end."

She walks out, quickly bumping fists with Mikey before departing, pointedly ignoring Warren's sniveling protests.

It doesn't take her long to catch up with Steph, curled up and looking miserable on a nearby campus bench. Chloe slides up next to her and smiles. She can't help but notice a palpable electricity between them. Was it always there? Maybe she didn't sense it until the kiss jarred something loose? It doesn't feel as surprising as it should.

"Somehow, 'we should talk' and 'how're you doing' don't feel like it's gonna cut it here."

Steph turns her head towards her, smiling shyly, her eyes wet with unshed tears.

"N-not how I wanted it to go. Years of stories all down the drain. Because I got angry."

Chloe leans in closer and says, "Okay, first, it's not all down the drain, because it's just a game in the end, and that should be way less important than treating people who are supposed to be your friends decently. Warren was being hella dickish, so forget him. And Mikey, Mikey knows. He wasn't really upset. Especially after I used the artifact card you gave me."

"Oh yeah?" Steph asks. "What did you do? Figured you'd just stop playing."

She shrugs, "One dead dragon, one resurrected wizard, one still dead whatever jacked up, munchkiny multi-classed monstrosity Warren's character is supposed to be. It was a pretty good ending to a pretty awesome campaign."

Steph laughs at this, tentatively reaching out with questing fingers for her hand. Chloe responds by threading her own through them.

"Two years. Two and a half really, right? Gotta kinda wonder why you never said anything before."

"I always kinda wondered why you never did." Steph pauses at this, and then shakes her head. "I mean, I knew you were hung up on Rachel, but I figured you'd get over that. But there was always...I don't know. Just this kind of 'thing' around you. Making you standoffish, sometimes when I would send signals. Did you even notice?"

Chloe winces. She looks away, and shifts uncomfortably, wondering what to say.

The answer comes quickly, however.

"Honestly? I...I really don't know. Maybe? Maybe I did but I didn't want to admit it. Steph, two of my best friends both up and hella left me...abandoned me, really. Right when I needed their support. Started to get where I thought I was cursed, you know?"

Steph squeezes her hands and nods. "I...I know. I get it, I do. Rachel took your truck, and Max...God. I still can't believe she said goodbye to you in a tape recording, the day you buried your Dad."

Chloe breathes out hard. "Yeah. Took me a long time to get through that, especially because I already knew she was leaving. But I think maybe the reason she stayed away, didn't talk, is maybe...guilt? Like, she thought she didn't deserve being friends anymore, so she let it die off. Dunno. Sounds hella dumb, but I've had a lot of time to think about it. Being with you, and Mikey, and well, okay, not Warren, but being with the group gave me something to focus on. Friends to be with, something I really enjoyed doing. I gotta think I'd be a lot more angry at the world if I didn't take a chance, way back when. If I'd stayed a loner, instead of joining your D&D game."

Steph regards her tenderly, but what joy is on her face quickly crumbles into pain.

"And here I am; just about to graduate and go off to college, and I...hit you with all this. Like oh fucking shit, I'm just about to abandon you. This is going to happen to you all over again. Chloe, I am so sor..."

Chloe laughs lightly, cutting Steph off, "Hey look, shit got crazy, emotions were all over the place, I'm not gonna hold you to anything."

"Oh God, shut up!" Steph says, half-laughing, half-shouting. "I like you, Chloe. I actually…"

She swallows hard, unable to say the word. But the look in her eyes is all Chloe needs to understand.

"Wow. Uh. Hah. Just. Wow. I don't know what to say."

But then it all clicks into place for her.

Who was there for her, all those days and weekends? Who smoked up with her, and who talked on the phone with her, and who hung out with her, all those years? Who let her open up, and share with her, all those pains and fears, doubts and frustrations. Who read her journal entries to Max, and never judged her or laughed, or made her feel like a freak?

Who gave her a shoulder to cry on, on the hardest days, when she missed her Dad. When she missed all of them?

It was Steph Gingrich.

This wasn't an intense, all consuming, passionate relationship. Not like Max, her sister from another mister. Not like Rachel, her first semi-unrequited love, the girl she hardly knew in the end.

But Steph was simply there for her, the way a friend should be. She encouraged her, and supported her and…

...she meant the world to her. Their relationship was a subtle but profound one. A natural, gradual evolution, one which finally reached a certain boiling point. A crossroads that required, demanded a response: whatcha gonna do now, girl?

Chloe speaks with actions. She gathers Steph in her arms and pulls her impulsively into her lap. Their mouths meet, fitting together perfectly. Slow, tiny kisses give way the firmer, insistent ones. Tongues push past lips and entwine. Fingers tangle through handfuls of hair. When it's over, they're nuzzling noses, and ignoring the stares of occasional passers-by.

"Chloe, wait...wait." Steph says as she pulls back. "I don't want this to be you just giving me what you think I want. Don't want us to somehow...I don't know, fall into bed together over the summer, and then we never talk. I want more." She swallows hard, letting tears finally fall. "I'm going away, and you're here finishing up your associate's degree, but I wanna try. You know, a long distance thing. Sounds stupid, and old fashioned and…"

"Yes," Chloe quickly breathes out.

"See, I knew you'd agree."

"No, I mean yes. Yes, I wanna try. Too. I mean shit, you're going to UC Denver. I'm doing the coursework online, I could just as easily pick up and move along after you."

This is clearly not the answer Steph was expecting. It leaves her stunned.

"Oh God, Chloe. I don't want you doing anything crazy, just because we're suddenly kissing…"

She shrugs, "It's crazy, but so what? What happens if I move and it doesn't work out between us? Oh noooo, I'm still in Denver, still in this awesome city in this awesome state that just fucking legalized weed! I'mma totally get me a job doing that shit! But hey...hey…" she starts to teasingly punctuate her words with playful kisses, "...what if it works? What if it works, and it's fucking awesome? Don't you get it? I tried to chase after Max, but she wouldn't stay in touch. Rachel fucking left me behind, when I couldn't leave town. But I'm free now, Steph. Mom and David are doing okay financially. I've got some money, and my GED, and….and I….I think it's time..."

Part of her can't believe how quickly it's all coming together.

Part of her can't believe it took this long for her to finally acknowledge what was in front of her the whole time.

Steph Gingrich.

Her rock.

Her angel.

Maybe third time's the charm?

Steph smiles brightly, as if in a daze.

"So really? Just like that."

She rises up, somehow managing to carry Steph in her arms, before twirling around in the grassy field.

"Just like thaaaat….!"

They fall over, laughing the whole time, not caring who noticed.

They spent each and every day of the summer break together: making plans and making out.

They wait until mid-August before having sex for the first time.

They both ignore the worried concerns both of their parents have, about 'acting impulsively' and how 'young love makes you do crazy things.'

Chloe chases Steph all the way to Colorado, just like she promised.

And it's fucking great.

All of it.


A/N: Hi kids. I am still sloooooooooowly continuing to heal from my injury. The good news is that nothing needs surgery. The bad news is that, yes, this requires 4 to 6 weeks recover time. They think I'm ahead of the curve, and are going to try to put me back to work for the 22nd, but I feel that might be rushing it a little. On the other hand, I have a LOT of PT coming up next week, and that has helped significantly, especially the traction on my C7 vertebra; also, the company NP has a reputation for being strict, and denying people a return from FMLA status if she doesn't think they're ready for it yet. Sometimes it's nice to work for a more-just-incompetent-than-purely-evil non-profit corporation.

I have been deciding what to do with my Kofi money, and it's a toss up between a bunch of cute goth clothes on Wish, or a sit/stand desk, which would help my condition. Honestly though? Health should probably come before goth glam. As always, if you feel like contributing to Lyta's Rainy Day PVC Goth\Ergonomic Desk Fund, my Kofi link is on my profile page!

So this and chapter 5 are probably my favorite part of the story. I started off with Pricegrinch originally as a narrative device, but I've come to realize that I really enjoy the hell out of this ship.

Finally, Leosch proofed this shit today...ON HIS FUCKING BIRTHDAY! So Happy Birthday, man. You rock!

Also, Tom? Check your Gmail, bro. ;-D

Have a great weekend everyone!