The sound of her phone ringing woke Chloe from her slumber. She opened her eyes slowly, trying to figure out where she was. Her head hurt.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," she mumbled, groaning, rolling over and picking up her phone. Seeing the caller ID, however, jerked her into reality in an instant. With trembling hands, she swiped to answer, and put the phone to her ear.

"Max? Is that you?"

"Hi, um, Chloe." The voice on the other end of the phone was so familiar, and Chloe was instantly overcome by a wave of emotion. She struggled not to cry there and then, but she couldn't speak straight away. "Chloe? Are you there?" asked Max, and Chloe nodded, completely forgetting that Max couldn't see it.

"Hi," croaked Chloe, when she could eventually speak. "Hi, stranger. Fancy seeing you here."

"Look, I'm, um, I'm sorry I haven't rung for so long," said Max.

"You haven't?" said Chloe, sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed."

"Come on, Chloe," said Max. Her voice was unsure, as always, but certainly full of apologies and sincerity. "I know I've been a shit pirate recently. I just… I didn't know what to say."

"About you abandoning me?" said Chloe, trying but failing to keep the anger out of her voice. "Or about Dad abandoning me. I guess you could pick one. Or both. I don't really care."

"Chloe, don't be like that," said Max. "I'm… I know what I did, okay? I'm really trying here. I'm so sorry, for everything. I should have rung sooner, I should have rung more often. I should have been there for you. But I wasn't. And I'm sorry. And I'm begging you for forgiveness. Please, Chloe. I…"

"Save it, Max," said Chloe. "You weren't there for me when I needed you. I mean, I'm happy you've rung now, but I can't go back and change the past, can I? You weren't there when I needed you, and I can't forgive that. Maybe we can move on, but…"

"Oh, don't say that," cried Max, bursting into tears. "I… I really miss you, Chloe. It's not the same here, I don't have any friends, I'm all on my own, and… I'm lonely without you. I miss you so much!"

"Good. Then you know how I feel," said Chloe. "You hurt me, Max, more than you'll ever know. Or care."

"I do care," cried Max. "Chloe, I do care." She paused. "Can we… can we stay friends? Please? I know I'm… well, I'm not there, but you're so important to me."

"Keep ringing me, Max, and we'll see," said Chloe. Her heart was bursting, but she couldn't bring herself to forgive her best friend. Not right now. "We can work on it, for sure."

"You'll ring me, too?" said Max. "I mean, you haven't rung me, either."

"Are you… are you saying it's my fault?" said Chloe.

"No! No, of course not," said Max, quickly. "Just that… oh, never mind."

The conversation was interrupted by the alarm clock bursting into song.

"One sec," said Chloe, reaching across to turn it off. She pressed the button, but the alarm kept ringing. "Hmm." She tried again, but to no avail. "Max?" she said, but her phone was dead. "Max?"

…

"Max?"

Chloe jerked awake to the sound of the alarm clock. Her phone was nowhere to be seen. Tears were running down her face and the pillow was damp.

Shit. Again?

It wasn't uncommon for Chloe to experience that dream and it always left her feeling really down. She rolled over and turned the alarm off; this time it worked and abruptly, the sound ceased. She grabbed her ashtray and lit up, laying back and breathing in the sweet smoke.

Sometimes, all I want to do is shut my eyes and tell the world to go to hell.

Max, I do miss you, even if you don't miss me. I miss you terribly.

Where are you?

The voice from downstairs broke into her thoughts. "Chloe! Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!"

"Coming, mom," she said, under breath.

Last night. Seeing Firewalk live was totally awesome. Those skeevy assholes, though. And that girl. Was that… Rachel Amber? Why was she there? And why did she talk to me? Did it really happen?

Groaning slightly, she rolled off the bed and stood up, trying to clear her head.

Ok, Chloe. Down with the morning rituals. I smell like cigarettes and beer. Probably should change before going downstairs. And where's my phone?

She stood in front of the wardrobe for several minutes, trying to decide what to put on, then finally decided to go for the Firewalk t-shirt she'd liberated last night. She posed for the mirror and grinned.

Nice. Looking good.

"Chloe!" shouted her mother, again. "I said breakfast!"

"Coming, mom!" shouted Chloe, opening her bedroom door, then suddenly stopping.

My phone. Where's my phone? Shit, how drunk was I last night?

She stood there, a moment, thinking.

I could phone it from mom's phone…

Making her mind up, she crossed the landing, closing her door behind her, and entered her mother's bedroom. Her mother's mobile was on the bedside table and she quickly picked it up, unlocked it and phoned her mobile. Listening carefully, she could hear her ringtone, but it was quite faint. She followed the sound to the bathroom and, with a little searching, found it under a towel near the toilet.

Gotcha! You can run, but you can't hide! I wonder how many calls I've missed?

She noticed that there were a couple of texts awaiting her attention.

MOM: [Chloe?]

MOM: [Will you be coming home at some point tonight?]

MOM: [Chloe? Will you be home by curfew?]

MOM: [There will be consequences, Chloe Elizabeth Price]

ELIOT: [Spanish test sucked]

ELIOT: [Lucky if I passed]

ME: [aw]

ME: [lo siento]

ELIOT: [No, I think I did okay]

ME: [cool]

ELIOT: [What u up to?]

ME: [Not much, got shit to do later]

ELIOT: [Oh okay, thought we could hang out or something, but it's cool]

ELIOT: [U finish the chem hw?]

ME: [Nope]

ELIOT: [Dude, that's the third time]

ME: [Meh, I already know everything]

There were the texts to Max, but she didn't want to look at them again. Other than that, no missed calls.

Nothing from Rachel, either. But then, she didn't really expect anything. Last night was fun, to be sure, but a guaranteed one-night only deal.

Pity. Last night was actually… rather nice. Especially the walk home. I'd really like…

"Chloe, breakfast! Bring my purse down with you, please!" Her mother's voice broke into her thoughts.

"Okay, mom!" shouted Chloe, a little aggressively, heading back into her mother's bedroom and looking around. Her purse was set against the dresser, but the ring on the dresser caught Chloe's attention.

Wait a moment… isn't that mom's engagement ring? The one I'm supposed to have, if I'm stupid enough to get married?

She picked it up, looking closely at it. It really was a lovely ring, gold, with a diamond set into the top, but it was what was underneath the ring that had caught her eye. It was a pawn appraisal ticket.

Mom's pawning her engagement ring? Why? Are we short of money… or is it for another reason?

She looked at the ticket. Apparently, the ring only commanded a $300 value.

Grade B? Fuck you, Arcadia Pawn. It's worth more than that!

She picked up the purse and, after another shout from her mother, the phone on the bedside table and headed downstairs. As she did so, her mother looked up from the stove.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said, both smiling and looking stern at the same time, something only mothers are able to manage with any degree of success. "You can put my purse on the dining table. There might still be time for breakfast if you hurry."

"Yes mom," said Chloe, dutifully. She did as she was asked, then headed into the kitchen to face her mother.

May as well get it over with sooner rather than later.

Chloe's mother, Joyce, was a smart, middle-aged woman. She spent most of her time working as a waitress in the Two Whales diner, out on the coastal road. Waitress being a kind of a catch-all, as everyone knew she pretty much was the Two Whales. An excellent cook and hostess, she brought her skills home and, even though she hated to admit it, Chloe had had many a delicious meal at her house. Many of them shared with her best friend…

Max.

Joyce hadn't taken the death of her husband well. She'd walked noticeably slower since the funeral, although, Chloe noted, she had started to make her bed in the mornings again. That was a start, at least. She was in the kitchen, working over the stove, the smell of breakfast deliciously wafting throughout the ground floor.

"Hi mom," said Chloe, pleasantly, walking over to stand near the kitchen door.

Escape route. Check.

"When I send you a text message, Chloe Elizabeth Price, like last night, I expect you to answer and not to ignore me, okay?"

"Mom, you know you can just say 'text', you don't have to say 'message'."

"And leave off with the snark, Chloe, I really don't need…" Joyce looked up and saw Chloe's eye. The punch from the previous night had grown into a beautiful shiner. "Oh, Chloe, what happened to your eye?" she said, horrified, leaning in to look at it. "That looks nasty. Does it hurt?" She reached out to touch it, but Chloe pulled away.

"No big deal, mom," she said, thinking quickly. "I walked into a door, that's all."

"Really. A door," said Joyce. "You walked into a door. Funny that, you seem to be walking into a lot of doors recently. They got something against you? Maybe they came out of nowhere?"

"Yeah yeah," said Chloe. "Don't labour the point, mom. Anyway, I didn't get the texts until now. Was sleeping."

"I see," said Joyce again, and sighed. "Chloe, why do you make it so hard to trust you?"

"Mom?"

"I'm not stupid, Chloe. Walking into a door? Sleeping? First of all, that's the oldest excuse in the book, and also I know you weren't sleeping. Do remember that my bedroom is just across the hall from yours. So you want to try that again?"

To her credit, Chloe looked sheepish. "Sorry mom, I'll… try and do better at replying." She shuffled her feet awkwardly. "Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

"What is it with you and David?" said Joyce. "The subtle art of conversation is lost with the both of you. Always cutting straight to the chase. What happened to 'Good morning Chloe, good morning, mother. Isn't it a lovely day? Yes, it's really nice out. The sun really has the wheat waving. Yes, how nice it all looks.' You know, Chloe, pleasant conversation before school?"

"Ah, yes. School. My favourite thing in the history of ever."

"You used to love to learn."

"Yeah. I used to think drugs were lame, too, mom. Things change."

"Chloe, I wish you wouldn't joke like that," said Joyce, turning to her daughter. "This is serious. It's your future we're talking about here."

"Are you selling your engagement ring, mom?" said Chloe, trying to change the subject.

"My ring?" Joyce pursed her lips, thinking. "Chloe, jewellery gets appraised for lots of reasons. Like insurance, for one."

"Nice dodge, mom."

"How about this… you don't go into my bedroom when I'm not there?"

"How about this…" mimicked Chloe. "You don't ask me to get your damn purse from your bedroom, then?"

"Come on Chloe, let's not fight. I made you breakfast," pleaded Joyce, serving up a plate of eggs and bacon. Chloe looked at it hungrily, but her pride stood in the way, and not for the first time.

"Nah, I'm okay, thanks. I'm not hungry right now, I'll… I'll just grab something later," said Chloe, as her stomach grumbled loudly.

"Really, hon?" said Joyce, smiling. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." She broke into a grin. "Well, you'll like this one. The other day, I made four eggs, two for me and two for David. Then, just before I served them, he says 'so what are you gonna eat?'" She laughed, and turned to her daughter, but Chloe just couldn't bring herself to reciprocate.

"Yeah, I'll like that, huh?" she said, sullenly. "You do realise I hate him, don't you? With every fibre of my being?"

"Chloe! You don't hate him," said Joyce. "Don't say that!"

"I do. He's a dickhole. He calls me 'girlie'. I don't like it. He demands respect due to some weird-ass army bullshit. Well, I don't respect him. Respect is earned, not demanded." She paused. "Dad taught me that, remember?" she said, in a small voice.

"Yeah, I remember, hon," said her mother. "But… I wish you and David would give each other a chance. It would make my life a little easier, certainly. Are you sure you won't have some breakfast?" she said, as Chloe's stomach rumbled once more.

"It's okay, mom," said Chloe. "Thanks, though."

"Well, okay," said Joyce, then looked at Chloe's t-shirt. "Firewalk? Isn't that the band you were raving on about last week?"

"Yeah, that's the one," said Chloe. "I'm still bummed you wouldn't let me go."

"Mm-hmm," said Joyce, going back to the breakfast.

"What does that mean?"

"I'm your mother, Chloe. I know exactly what time you came home last night. I also know that's a very nice t-shirt. Looks new."

"I see."

"And don't think you can get out of going to school just because you missed the bus again."

"Um, why would you assume that…"

"Chloe." Joyce put down her utensils and turned back to her daughter, hands on hips. "Who do you think that Principal Wells calls when you skip school?"

"Ummm…" It wasn't often that Chloe was stumped, but this was definitely one of those times. She felt her face redden as she looked at her mother, who, in turn, just raised her eyebrows at her daughter's obvious discomfort.

"Do you think for one minute that I enjoy lying for you, saying you're sick and home with me, just so you don't get expelled?" She paused. "And, just for future reference, I do know what pot smells like." She sighed. "You're an intelligent girl, Chloe. But recently, between you skipping school, your recent grades, your flagrant disregard for my rules, I'm worried about you. I see you slipping."

"But mom, the whole point of lowering your expectations is so you won't be disappointed in me when I fuck up again."

"And watch your language," snapped Joyce, now beginning to get annoyed. "You're happy with the way things are going? Fine. Keep at it." She turned back to the breakfast. "Just let me know so I can stop fighting with Blackwell to keep you on scholarship. Money's tight enough as it is. Anyway," she continued, "David thinks you need more discipline."

"David should mind his own business."

"I think it's great that David's taking an interest, Chloe. He's a good man."

"Dad was a good man, mom."

"That's… that's unfair, Chloe," said Joyce, her voice cracking. "I'm glad your father still has a place in your heart. But sometimes we need to make more room in our hearts for new people."

"And sometimes," said Chloe, "when we're incredibly desperate and lonely, we choose the absolute wrong kind of people to let into our hearts. I guess I'll start walking." She turned to leave, but Joyce stopped her.

"That's not fair, Chloe," she said. "David's had some hard times too, you know. If he's kind enough to share his experience, I expect you to listen to him…"

"Like I'd let him within fifteen feet of me."

"… when he takes you to school today."

"When he takes me to what now?" Chloe did a quick double take. "Oh yeah, very funny mom. Ha ha."

"You will be nice…"

"… you're serious?"

"… and you will be respectful. And you will say thank you."

"Mom! This is such…"

"… such what, Chloe? Such what?" Joyce's voice was dangerously quiet, and Chloe knew she was treading on thin ice. She made a quick decision.

"Okay mom."

"Promise?"

"Really?"

"Promise."

Chloe sighed again. "Okay, mom, I promise."

"Thank you, Chloe," said Joyce, sighing in relief. "I understand you don't need me so much any more. But I'm your mom. I need you. I'm not sure you remember that sometimes."

"I do still need you, mom."

"I'm proud of you, Chloe, for being so self-sufficient. But you have to see that the whole world isn't out to get you."

"Tell that to the world, then."

"You're impossible!" Joyce pursed her lips thoughtfully. "But I love you."

"I love you too, mom."

"Mm-hmm. Okay, David's waiting outside. His keys are in the dining room if you'll take them out. Try not to kill each other, please."

"Got it." Chloe grinned. "Unless he tried to give me advice. Or talks to me. Or looks at me funny."

"Chloe!"

"Or looks at me at all."

"Chloe!"

"Mom."

Joyce sighed in defeat. "Have a good day."

"You too, mom," she said, turning and walking into the dining room. David's car keys were in the ashtray on the side. She picked them up and quickly looked back. Joyce had her back turned.

Money's tight, is it?

Quickly, she picked up Joyce's purse and slipped most of the money she'd taken from the t-shirt vendor inside.

"You're welcome," she muttered, putting the purse back on the dining table. She headed down the hallway and opened the door, pausing when her phone bleeped. It was Steph.

STEPH: [Hey Chloe, I've got your DVD. Come find me before school and you can have it. Well, the DVD anyway. Ha!]

CHLOE: [Cool! Where will you be?]

STEPH: [That's for me to know, and you to find out]

CHLOE: [What?]

STEPH: [It's a quest]

CHLOE: [Sigh]

STEPH: [Ready?]

CHLOE: [Do we have to?]

STEPH: [Yeah! It's fun]

CHLOE: [You and I have very different ideas about what's fun, Steph. Go on then]

STEPH: [Here's your clue. Some mornings I go to school on my bike, but this morning you'll find me playing RPGs with Mike]

CHLOE: [That's it?]

STEPH: [Well… yeah]

CHLOE: [That's lame]

STEPH: [Hey! I had to think up something on the spot!]

CHLOE: [Ok, ok, keep your hat on. I'll catch you soon. Just leaving]

STEPH: [Later]

Chloe smiled and put the phone away. "Bye mom!" she called, before heading out and shutting the door behind her.