Chapter Four
Stuck in the Middle with You

"Chloe! Wakey-wakey, eggs and bakey!"

Groaning, Chloe dragged herself from the clutches of her bed and its sweet promises of warmth and oblivion. Reaching over to her left, she pawed around for a moment before remembering that her stash wasn't there, on account of having been flushed by the step-douche. That meant war.

She hadn't previously thought it possible to get tired of sustaining that level of anger at a man who brought nothing but misery and discomfort into her life, but living with the enemy for so long had worn her down to the point where she didn't even bother getting into shouting matches anymore, except on special occasions. Mostly she contented herself with spiteful glares and biting remarks. Not that it made any difference to her mother, who still held out hope that they might one day become a happy family. As if.

"Yeah, yeah, coming!" she shouted, throwing on a black sleeveless shirt emblazoned with a skull made out of pure sugar wearing a sombrero, along with a torn pair of blue jeans that clung to her like body paint. She completed the ensemble with a jacket, a beanie, and some combat boots, then grabbed her phone and headed downstairs.

"There you are," said Joyce. "Breakfast is almost ready; go on and sit at the table."

"It's fucking Saturday, Mom," she replied, lumbering into the living room. "I could have just eaten in the afternoon, like God intended."

"I know what you feed yourself when left to your own devices. This way you'll at least get a good meal."

"Look at me, Mom," she said, gesturing across her body. "Junk food has failed to make me morbidly obese. I can feed myself."

"Right, just like you can afford a place of your own, or hold down a job, or pay taxes instead of staying in your room all day smoking pot."

Chloe snorted, leaning back against the table and crossing her arms. "Touché."

"I know you're pissed off because David flushed your stash, but try not to take it out on your mother. Or him, for that matter."

"Sure, I'll just vent all my frustrations on my government-issued whipping boy." She placed a hand over her eyes and scanned around the room. "Now where did little Enrique run off to?"

Turning around, Joyce raised an eyebrow and tilted her head forward. "Enrique?"

"You know how it is, Mom. Immigrants are stealing all the jobs."

She shook her head. "Sometimes I just don't understand your sense of humor."

"It's a millennial thing. Everything's ironic now."

"By the way," she said as she returned her attention to the eggs, "I couldn't help noticing what time you got home last night. Without your truck."

Chloe shrugged. "Wasn't really fit to drive. Rachel dropped me off."

Sighing, she hung her head and rested her palms on the counter. "At least you're being responsible about one thing. Is Rachel also going to help you pick it up?"

"Probably. She and Max are coming over later, bee-tee-dubs."

"Well I have to get to work soon, but David will be home in case you need anything."

"Great. I was hoping my day would get worse."

"Chloe…"

"It's fine, Mom. Where's step-douche now?"

"In the garage. One thing you do have in common is that you'd both rather feed yourselves sometimes. And here I thought my cooking was the biggest part of my appeal."

Pushing off the table, Chloe moved closer and smiled. "Don't worry, Mom. I'm sure Max and Rachel still adore your food."

"Oh, I know. I'm glad Max is back in your life. You and Rachel could both use a good influence."

"God, not this shit again. Max never got let down by either of her parents. Me and Rachel weren't so lucky."

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I'm just saying, she's actually respectful around adults."

"So is Rachel. You've had her over enough times to know that. Hell, I would be too if you'd all get off my crack for once."

"Chloe…"

"You don't have to say anything, Mom. I know you wish Max was your daughter instead."

Joyce used the spatula to scrape the eggs out of the pan, then retrieved the bacon before handing her the plate. "Believe it or not, Chloe, I wouldn't trade you for the world. And Lord knows I've been tempted. I know it's been hard for you since your father died, and I know David could never replace him, but—"

"Don't finish that sentence." She turned away and stomped back to the table, slamming the plate down. "Ever."

"Fine." She threw up her hands. "Give Max and Rachel my love. And don't burn the house down."

Chloe smirked, brandishing her fork. "No promises, Mom."


"Nnnngh." Max stretched out her arms, eyes still closed, then settled back down on the bed. She heard a click and saw a flash behind her eyelids, then blinked awake as she rose.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," said Rachel, lowering the camera. She was propped up next to her, having held her arm out just far enough to take a selfie with both of them in frame. "We've kept Chloe waiting long enough."

She squinted at the other girl. "What are you doing?"

"Thought I'd capture the moment," she answered, retrieving the picture and shaking it until the color flooded in. "Or is that something only you're allowed to do?"

Laughing, Max rose and set her feet on the floor. "Don't worry about it. Just wait until I'm awake next time."

"You got it." She handed the camera back, but kept the photo. "You photograph really well when you're asleep, though. Ever thought of modeling? I could get you in with my agent."

"I prefer to stay behind the camera, thanks." She sniffed the air as she stood up. "I still smell like that bar."

"Well, we can't have that." Rachel strode over to her closet, opening it up to reveal a sizeable collection of outfits. "Take your pick. We're about the same size."

Max nodded. "I know. I've worn your clothes before. In the other timeline."

"Oh really?" Her voice took on a playful tone. "How'd it feel?"

"Major confidence booster," she admitted. "And everybody commented on it. I don't really think I lived up to you, though."

"That's because there's only one me." Rachel retrieved a band tee shirt and a blue flannel, along with grey stonewashed jeans. "But don't think that makes you inferior. You're just special in a different way. These ought to fit you."

"Thanks," she said as the other girl handed them over. "I'll go change."

"I should too. Even if that bar smell totally goes with my aesthetic."

Max laughed and headed to the bathroom.

Even after all the hype, Rachel Amber was nothing like she had expected. She immediately understood the other girl's appeal: rather than trying to prove her own importance through self-indulgent humble-bragging like Victoria, Rachel was kind, easy-going, and cared deeply about the people around her. She was also spontaneous and fun, ready to drop everything and go have an adventure at a moment's notice. Chloe had told her once that when you were hanging out with Rachel Amber, it felt like anything was possible.

She was also very flirty, and Max found herself flustered, constantly unsure of whether the other girl was seriously interested in her, or if this was how she behaved with everybody. Max had begun to wonder if Chloe didn't mean quite as much to Rachel as she'd thought.

But she quickly dismissed that idea. Rachel was difficult to pin down, but she definitely cared about Chloe. And apparently Max herself meant quite a lot to her as well.

Shaking her head, she finished changing and threw her other clothes into her bag, then headed back to Rachel's room, to find that the other girl didn't dress quite as fast as she did. She quickly covered her eyes and turned around. "Sorry!"

She heard laughter from behind her. "They're just tits, Max. It's not the end of the world."

"I still should have knocked."

Rachel grabbed her by the wrists, then slowly spun her around. "You have got to quit being so nervous around me. You think Chloe hasn't seen the goods? Open your eyes."

She did so, and discovered that Rachel had already put on a shirt. The other girl laughed. "You worry too much."

Max chuckled nervously as well. "I can never tell if you're actually flirting with me or just joking."

"That's part of being friends with me. You get to solve a new mystery every day." She patted her cheek. "Come on. Let's go see Chloe."


They arrived at the Price residence a short while later. The garage door was open, and they saw David Madsen hunched over the engine of his car. As they approached, he stood up straight and turned around, eyeing them suspiciously.

"Well, now there's two of them," he said. "At least you're not taking fashion tips from Chloe."

"Good morning, Mr. Madsen," Rachel said with a disarming sweetness. "Max is trying out a new look, true, but she's always had her own style." She leaned to the side, looking at the car behind him. "Is it the fan belt again?"

David shook his head. "Carburetor. Joyce thinks I should just put a fuel injector in there and be done with it, but…"

"I understand. Classic cars aren't quite the same if you fill them with too much modern technology." She turned to Max. "Just like cameras, wouldn't you say?"

"Uh, right," said Max. "I use a vintage instant camera," she said, producing it from her bag. "All those smartphone filters can't really replace that classic feel."

"Heh. Guess you're not like these other kids, huh?"

"There's nothing wrong with embracing innovation," said Rachel. "I doubt you were anything like your parents. But it doesn't hurt to have an appreciation for the classics either."

He laughed. "All right, you've flattered an old man enough. Chloe's waiting for you inside."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Madsen. Good luck with the carburetor." With that, they walked past him, to the front door. Max stared at her in awe.

"How'd you learn to handle David so well?"

"Men like him want two things," she said, opening the door and walking inside. "Respect, and knowing that they still matter despite the world not being like they remember it. Play to their nostalgia and you'll have them too busy thinking about their glory days to hate you for being young."

"That's good advice."

She smiled. "Years of experience."

"There you are," said Chloe, peeking her head from around the corner at the end of the hallway that led past the kitchen. She narrowed her eyes. "Is she wearing your clothes?"

Max nodded. "Bar smell."

"Ah. For a minute I thought you two fucked."

She tripped, faceplanting on the floor. Rachel knelt down immediately to help her up, while Chloe just stood there with her arms crossed. "Wow. You know, normally I say a joke won't kill you, but it looks like I should be more careful."

"Chloe!"

"What? I'm hilarious."

"I'm fine," said Max, standing up and clutching her chin. "Mostly. But for your information, nothing happened."

"Didn't think it did, Max. You're too chickenshit for that."

Rachel stared at her, hands on her hips. "And what about me? You really think I wouldn't take advantage of the young, naïve Maxine Caulfield when I have her all alone, at my mercy?"

Narrowing her eyes, Chloe stared off against the other girl, before eventually she chuckled. "Yeah I get it; you can make jokes too."

She smiled and pointed. "I almost had you."

"In your dreams."

The three of them moved to the table and sat down. Chloe had her back to the wall adjoining the fireplace, while Max and Rachel sat next to each other on the opposite side.

"One thing did happen, though," said Rachel, grinning mischievously. "She did walk in on me while I was topless."

"Big deal. I'd be more shocked if you saw hers. Max still changes under her shirt."

"I haven't done that since seventh grade."

"Oh yeah? Let's see 'em now, then."

Max covered her chest with her arms and turned her torso away. "No!"

"See? Chickenshit."

"If we could grow up for five minutes…" groaned Rachel.

"Sorry. She makes it so easy to mess with her."

"We have something to tell you," she continued. "Something that surprised us both last night."

"Hey, no fair saying that after I already joked about you screwing."

"Shouldn't have jumped the gun. It has to do with Max's powers."

"Really? What'd you find out?"

Max set her hands down on the table, looking at her seriously. "Rachel is immune to them."

She blinked. "What? You're sure?"

"How do you think I really knew what you were going to do last night?" said Rachel. "I saw her rewind time. And it didn't affect me."

"Oh yeah? Tell me what I'm about to say."

"That you think Max's outfit would look better on your floor."

"Fuck! Only she was supposed to remember that."

Rachel laughed. "I told you."

"Well, shit. Now I feel even more left out."

"Chloe…" Max enveloped her hand in both of hers. "You're still super important to me. To both of us. In the other timeline, you were the one who encouraged me to push the limits of my powers, the one who believed in me even when no one else did. And you're a way bigger badass than I am."

"True."

"I still don't know exactly what's happening to me, or why I seem to be at the center of all this," added Rachel. "But I also don't know anybody I'd rather have at my side than you two."

Chloe threw her hands up. "Alright, alright, enough with the mushy crap. What's our plan?"

"The way I see it, we have two major objectives." Rachel held up a finger. "First, we need to expose what Nathan and Mr. Jefferson have been doing. To do that, we need people we can count on. You've already met Sam, and I know you're not going to like this, but David is ex-military. If we get into trouble, he could help keep us safe."

"As if. I'd rather masturbate with a chainsaw."

"You are oddly sexual today, you know that?"

"Bite me. No boys allowed."

Rachel shrugged. "Have it your way. We also need eyewitnesses. They didn't get me in this world, thank God, but Kate Marsh is apparently one of Nathan and Mr. Jefferson's victims. She's been depressed and withdrawn recently, and the whole school has been bullying her over that video. Max says it's because Nathan drugged her, then took her to the Dark Room."

"Shit. I know Kate, she's cool. When I get my hands on those motherfuckers…"

"Just be careful, Chloe," said Max. "I've already seen Mr. Jefferson shoot you in the head once. I'd rather not go through that again."

She put her hand over hers. "Don't worry, Max. Between the three of us and that kick-ass friend of Rachel's, I'd say we've got this covered."

"Speaking of Sam, she said she'll be texting me when her grandfather is able to meet. That's our second order of business. You two want to come along?"

Chloe arched an eyebrow. "You even need to ask?"

"I guess not. Glad I can count on you."

"I did some googling last night," she said. "Ended up on a Wikipedia page for something called Animism. It's when people die and their ghosts turn into animals or something."

"That's not even close to what it is," Rachel said with a chuckle. "It's the belief that all living things, even plants and rocks, have a soul. It's a commonly held belief among a number of pagan and indigenous groups. It's bigger than just one culture or religion, and a lot of indigenous peoples don't even have a word for it in their language because it's so ingrained."

Chloe reared back. "How the fuck do you know that?"

"I'm the straight A student, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, show off." She leaned forward. "Anyway, I was trying to figure out if there's any science that could explain what's happening with you."

"And?"

"It's beyond my powers of googling. Might need to go to an actual library."

"Or meet with a living expert. Joseph Black Elk knows Arcadia Bay better than anyone. I know he can help us. Plus, he hates the Prescotts."

"He must if he's crazy enough to bomb Sean Prescott's pet construction project. Could be useful against Nathan."

"Chloe, we're just meeting him for information," said Max. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to get involved with eco-terrorists. This whole thing is dangerous enough as it is."

"Fine. Let's Nancy Drew this shit up."

Rachel smiled. "That's the spirit. But we don't have to get started right this second. I have something special planned for today. To make up for last night being a total drag."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"All I can tell you right now is to keep an open mind." Her smile grew wider. "But I promise you ladies are in for a treat."

"Hell yeah, then. All for one, and one for fucking all."

"You said it."