Max jolted awake, her eyes flashing open with a start. Her head felt foggy and heavy, as if she'd just awoke from a 20-year coma. Something was obscuring her vision, and she couldn't see anything for a second apart from a blinding white light. As it started to fade and her vision cleared, she began to process her surroundings. Wherever she was it was night-time, and everything was in shadow.
'What the hell?' Max's panicked voice rang in her own head. 'What the fuck is going on? Where I am I?!'
She whirled around, her heart ricocheting in her chest. It was deathly cold outside, and eerily silent. As she looked around frantically, trying to locate something that would give her some sort of clue, Max noticed the glint of a small silver building illuminated in the moonlight. She recognised the tarp-covered roof instantly- it was Chloe and Rachel's shack at the junkyard. American Rust. Why the hell was she in the junkyard?!
"Were you looking for me?" said a husky woman's voice from behind her.
Max whipped around. It was too dark to make out anything apart from a slender shadow, but her stomach filled with dread. The voice sounded unreal, ghostly, and…vaguely familiar.
"Who's there?!" Max cried out, her voice trembling. She didn't need to ask, though. The sickening feeling in her gut told her that even though she'd never heard the girl's voice before, she already knew exactly who it was.
The shadow stepped forward; the light of the moon illuminated her heart-shaped, beautiful face. The same face that was plastered on the 'MISSING' posters all over town, the same face grinning and pouting and posing in the pictures in the shack…the same face which was now white as a ghost, with sunken in, hollowed out cheeks and flaxen hair stuck to them, a blood-stained mouth, and a pierced nose with black goo oozing out of the right nostril.
It was Rachel Amber.
Max let out a piercing, horrified scream. She staggered back but tripped on something and crashed down onto her back. The fall took the wind out of her and she lay there propped up on her elbows, gasping for breath and staring wide-eyed up at Rachel. The girl was staring at her with an unnerving expression, head cocked to one side and a toothless smile on her lips.
"Don't you recognise me, Max?" she asked softly.
Max was shaking so hard that she thought she might explode. "W-what's h-happening?"
"I'm back. Aren't you happy to see me? I've been waiting to meet you." Rachel moved closer, and Max saw that she was wearing nothing but soiled, moth-eaten underwear, and she was clutching a syringe in her left hand. A hand which was now nothing but bone.
"Y-you're…what…what h-happened to you?!" Max sputtered out.
Rachel looked down at her rotted hand, and a tear slid down her sunken cheek. "I used to be beautiful, Max. Now I'll never be a star…I'll never be famous. Nobody will ever see my face again."
"What h-happened to you?!" Max repeated, louder this time. Rachel simply stared at her blankly and narrowed her eyes.
"You love Chloe, don't you? You're pathetic. She'll never love you like she loved me. Never." She hissed venomously, and then she let out a slow, menacing laugh. As she laughed a black, gelatinous substance began pouring from her mouth, choking her. Then it started seeping from her eyeballs.
"Oh my god," Max breathed, fear burning at her throat. "Your…mouth…" she pointed.
"Oh, I'm just rotting." Rachel replied calmly, as the black goo enveloped her face.
Max frantically moved to stand up and stepped on the object she'd tripped over. She looked down and recognised a shiny black camera at her feet. Even in this nightmare reality, she knew it was one of the most expensive, high-tech cameras out there. Not even the Victoria Chases of this world were professional enough to own this.
On impulse, Max grabbed it and held the lens up to Rachel's terrifying figure. She needed something to prove this was real, something to prove what had happened to Rachel.
Rachel started moving closer and closer to her with a monstrous look in her eyes, which were jet black now. She seemed to walk without her feet touching the ground…as if she was floating, like a ghost. The presence of the camera seemed to enrage her, and her skeletal hand shot forward to grab it, shaking with fury.
"Take the shot, Max!" she screamed…and that was the last thing Max heard before the world went black.
Max jerked up in bed. A monsoon of sweat trickled down her back and her forehead. The late-afternoon sun streamed in through the window. She recognised her photo wall, her Catcher in the Rye poster, and her plant, Lisa, in the corner. A sleeping Chloe was curled up beside her, snoring softly and completely oblivious. She was in her room at Blackwell, not the junkyard, and Rachel Amber was nowhere to be seen. She was okay.
Whoa. It must've been a nightmare. Max held up her shaking hand to her chest. Her heart was thumping loudly. She took some deep breaths, trying to calm down. The dream had felt so real…it was like Rachel Amber had really been talking to her. Well, Rachel Amber's…corpse? Max remembered the black goo running down her cheeks and shuddered. The way she'd said "Nobody will ever see my face again". What did that even mean? And the camera…what was with the camera? If this was Max's subconscious telling her she needed to work on her photography project, then it was a bit fucking extreme.
Max grabbed her phone from the floor where it had been abandoned last night and checked the time. 4pm. Her and Chloe must've drifted back to sleep after they…yeah. She clocked the mountain of homework on her desk that she'd been neglecting all week and sighed. Damn. Back to the real world.
Speaking of the real world, she noticed she had several missed calls on her phone. Warren, Kate, and Dana. Dana, shit. Max winced guiltily. She really needed to talk to her and explain everything. She needed a lot of things to a lot of people, probably. She scrolled further down her phone and saw a text from an unknown number: You're dead, bitch. It didn't need to be signed, it was obviously from either Nathan or Victoria.
Shit. In her Chloe-reverie, Max hadn't even thought about the party last night and what happened. She remembered the crunch of Chloe's knuckles against Nathan's jaw, Victoria's white face, and then Nathan's unmistakable "I'm gonna fucking KILL them!" as they ran out of the gymnasium. Double shit. If the Vortex club didn't hate her enough before, then they would definitely be out for blood now. Especially now they knew about Chloe and her.
Chloe and her. Max couldn't believe how much had changed in less than 24 hours. But then, that was just Chloe all over- unpredictable. And that was exactly what she loved about her.
"She'll never love you the way she loved me. Never." Rachel Amber's haunting voice hissed in her ear, and Max felt her stomach roil. She couldn't get her rotting figure and empty black eyes out of her head. The way her hand had been rotted to the bone…the syringe she was clutching…the blood…Max felt icky and gross. Her hands were clammy and as she moved she could smell the acrid stench of cold sweat on her skin. She needed a shower desperately. She needed to wash that nightmare and Rachel's ghoulish face away.
Max edged off the bed slowly, being extra careful not to disturb the sleeping girl next to her. Chloe looked extra-cute when she was asleep; her bottom lip protruded slightly, and her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink. Max thought about waking her up for a second- she really needed to do that homework- but then decided against it. She couldn't bear to disturb that face; instead, she grabbed her towel and washbag off her chair.
Max headed over to the door, opening it as quietly as she could and praying to God that no one- especially Victoria- was about. She looked around, but there was nothing but an empty, silent corridor. Coast was clear, phew. She shut her door behind her and tiptoed down the hallway. She was almost at the bathroom when a door opened. Max's heart sunk in her chest, and her eyes closed. Crap.
"Max?" A confused, accusatory voice rang out, and Max's eyes opened immediately. Dana was stood in the doorway of her room, her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised. "What are you doing?"
Max blushed automatically. "Oh…hi Dana. I-I was just…going for a shower?"
Dana pursed her lips. "Oh no you're not," she affirmed, reaching forward and grabbing Max by the arm. "You're going to explain everything. Now." And with that she dragged Max into her room, slamming the door shut behind them.
"Dana, I'm so sorry-" Max began, but Dana held a finger to her lips and shook her head. She walked over to her pink silk bed, sat down and patted the space beside her.
"Nuh-uh. Explanations, not apologies." She said firmly, but softly.
Max sighed and sank down next to her. She'd only just gone through the stress of explaining everything to Warren yesterday…Dana would definitely want all the details, and she might not be so forgiving. "W-well…" Max began, glancing around the room and stalling. She'd never actually been in there before. Dana's room was the image of high school patriotism and cheerleaderdom. The wall was covered with flyers for Bigfoot games (the name of Blackwell's infamous football team who, annoyingly, didn't suck as much as Max would've liked), pictures of Dana's various cheerleading competitions, and a huge poster of Harry Styles. Trophies littered literally every surface, as well as fashion magazines, random bits of makeup and various items of glittery clothing. Dana was the archetypal cheerleader; insanely peppy, addicted to football and boys, and way too into the colour pink. She could've been a stock character from a nineties chick-flick, if only she wasn't so sweet. Max noticed her staring and reluctantly made eye contact with Dana's unsmiling, impatient face. She bit her lip nervously. "I-I guess I'd better start from the beginning…"
As she talked, Dana's expression remained blank and impassive. For a girl who had the biggest personality Max had ever seen, seeing the other girl without a single emotion on her face made her nervous. As her stuttering mess of an explanation drew to a close, Dana nodded slowly. She didn't look angry, exactly…but she didn't look happy. Max felt her stomach twitch with nerves. Kate had understood, Warren had understood- what if Dana didn't? She was one of the few friends Max had at Blackwell, and it would truly suck if she lost her.
"Wow. That was a lot." Dana said. She sounded confused and a little hurt. "I guess I'm just…wondering why you lied to me. I thought we were friends."
"We are. I promise we are. I tried to- I tried to tell you, but it was so hard…"
"I get how it was hard, but I opened up to you. We live together, we go to school together…there's no way you didn't have an opportunity to tell me. Do you not trust me or something?" Dana looked even more upset now.
"No! No, I do trust you Dana." Max sighed. Dana had a point. She knew why she hadn't told people about Chloe, and it wasn't because she didn't trust them. "I didn't know how to tell you, b-because I…didn't know how I even felt. Things with Chloe have been like a whirlwind. I didn't know where we stood, and then when I thought I did, well…she left again. I guess I didn't want to admit to myself what was going on because I was…scared." She paused, chewing her lip even harder. Deep down, she had been just as scared as Chloe about getting hurt. Not just by Chloe, but by everyone. Her parents, her friends, everyone else at Blackwell. Max couldn't bear to be rejected right when she felt like she was finally fitting in.
"I don't mean to sound pathetic," she continued, "but I-I've never really had that many friends. It's not an excuse at all, but sometimes I don't really know how to act…and I get so scared what people will think of me. When things with Chloe ended I needed to talk to someone about her, and your advice really helped…it just seemed easier if I let you think it was Warren. I guess I didn't want to admit that I'd fallen for a girl."
Dana's face softened, and she reached over and took Max's hand. "I understand, Max. It must've sucked going through this by yourself. I mean, I tell Juliet literally everything boy-related." She smiled at Max, squeezing her hand. "I know how you feel, though. When I first started seeing Trevor…I mean, you know how much of a mess I was. Paranoid, jealous…I was just as scared as you. Especially after all the shit with Logan. But then I realised that I just needed to let go of all that. Sure, Trevor could hurt me just as bad. He could make me look like a fool all over again, just like Logan did. But then I realised that if I didn't at least give him a try, then I would look like an even bigger fool."
Max stared at Dana with a newfound respect. She'd heard rumours about Dana and Logan Robertson, - another Blackwell 'jockass'- but she had no idea of the full story. It seemed like he'd really screwed with Dana though; she wasn't surprised, he seemed like a total douchebag. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that, Dana. I'm so glad you've found Trevor now. You guys seem perfect together."
Dana smiled and blushed slightly. "He's pretty great. I guess I was a little overzealous about you and Warren because I wanted you to find somebody equally as great. I just can't believe you let me try and set you up with him for weeks! Oh God, I tried to set you up with freaking Warren!" Dana snorted with laughter, and the two girls started giggling.
"You were relentless!" Max cried.
"Oh no, I even tried to hook you guys up at the party! He must think I'm a total freak!" Dana wailed, covering her face with her hands.
"If he thinks anyone is a freak, it's me for sure. I really am sorry, Dana."
Dana rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "It's fine, Max. But you're right. You didn't have any excuse to lie to me, or Warren," she reprimanded. "You need to believe that you do have true friends here at Blackwell. Okay?"
Max nodded meekly. "Okay."
Dana's eyes lit up suddenly, a mischievous smile spreading across her lips. "So…."
Shit. Max knew exactly what was coming. "Dana-"
"Spill!" the other girl squealed, edging closer on the bed excitedly. "Tell me everything about Chloe. Right now."
Max groaned internally- the interrogation had begun. "Dana, I just told you everything that happened with Chloe."
"Uh-uh, you gave me a basic lowdown. I need details! I have to say I'm kinda surprised, and not just because she's a girl. I never thought you'd go for the bad-boy type." Dana raised an eyebrow coyly.
"Neither did I." Max admitted with a laugh. "But I guess that's what I like about her. She's…fearless. But at the same time, she's not. She's a mystery, I guess."
'I think I'm falling in love with you'. Max could still hear the adorable crack in Chloe's voice as she'd whispered those words last night. It still didn't feel real. A part of her felt like everything that had happened in the past 24 hours had been a dream. On one hand, she was terrified- Nathan, Victoria and their Vortex cronies were out to get her, never mind the fact that she was now in a real-life relationship for the first time in her life. Relationships involved opening up, being vulnerable, exposing yourself…concepts that, as a rule, were absolutely alien to Max. But on the other hand…she was with Chloe. If anyone understood her -really understood her, warts and all- it was Chloe.
"You know what, I couldn't figure her out either. Before she got kicked out of Blackwell, she totally that whole broody, Edward Cullen thing down. I don't think we ever even spoke."
Max was taken aback for an instant, not realising that Dana even knew who Chloe was, before realising in an 'uh, duh!' moment that they had gone to school together at one point. She wasn't surprised they hadn't interacted- Chloe had an aversion to all things peppy- but she was interested to know more about Chloe's 'Edward Cullen' phase. She totally had to tease her about that later. "Yeah, I heard she didn't have the best experience at Blackwell."
Dana snorted. "That's putting it mildly. Her and Rachel Amber got up to some crazy shit! One time, they got a load of fish and dumped them in the Blackwell pool. Like, where did they even get the fish from in the first place?"
Max smiled to herself; that totally sounded like a Chloe thing to do. She opened her mouth to reply, but Dana interrupted her.
"And then in freshman year the school did a production of The Tempest, right? Rachel was meant to play Prospera but Victoria ended up with the part somehow. Rach was pissed! But then right before the show, Victoria got sick. She couldn't go on stage, and Rachel ended up playing Prospera after all." Dana leaned closer, assuming a secretive air. "I don't know if this is true, but I heard Rachel drugged Victoria. That's why she couldn't go on! Crazy, right?"
Max's eyes widened. Woah. Drugging someone just because they stole your part in the play? No wonder Victoria seemed to hate Rachel so much. "Chloe wasn't involved in that, surely?"
Dana shrugged. "I don't think so, but her and Rachel were like, glued to the hip. Chloe always seemed chill, but I'm not surprised she got kicked out. Those girls were wild!"
Rachel, Rachel, Rachel. After her creepy dream, that was the last name she wanted to hear. Still, it seemed like Dana knew her well. Max didn't know if it was jealousy or genuine curiosity that was driving her, but she couldn't help it. She needed to find out more about this girl.
"So…you knew Rachel well?" she began, trying to phrase her words innocently.
"Kinda. Rachel was friends with pretty much everybody, y'know?" Max didn't know. She could only imagine having that kind of effortless charisma. "We were in theater together. She was super good at acting…well, she was kinda super good at everything. It was so strange when she disappeared. Things like that don't happen to people like her."
Max tried to suppress a sigh. Perfect Rachel Amber. It made sense that she was a straight-A student on top of everything else.
Dana must've noted Max's strained expression, because she cocked her head to one side and flicked her gently on the knee with her finger. "Wait, why are you asking me about Rachel?"
"No reason." Max lied. She knew instantly from Dana's raised eyebrow that she wouldn't get away with it, though. "Well…I know her and Chloe had a thing, and-"
"-Max, stop that right now!" Dana interjected. "You're a rockstar. I don't know if they were together or not, but you should never compare yourself to exes. Trust me, it's a risky game. In fact, I'm stopping this conversation before you torture yourself any further!"
Max laughed out loud. Dana was so dramatic, but it was kind of endearing. "Ok, ok. I need to shower anyway." Both girls got up, and Max squeezed the other girl's arm. "Thank you, Dana. Seriously. I'm so glad we're friends."
Dana beamed back at her. "Me too, Max. I'll catch you later, 'kay?"
"For sure." Max turned and headed out of the door, grabbing her washbag and towel on the way. When she got to the bathroom, she undressed quickly undressed and hopped in the shower, letting the steaming hot water envelop her like a fuzzy blanket. As she ran shampoo through her wet hair, Max couldn't help going over her and Dana's conversation in her head. Something was niggling at her- something to do with Rachel. "Things like that don't happen to people like her." What had happened to Rachel? Every time Max closed her eyes she saw her rotting corpse looming in front of her. "Nobody will ever see my face again." What if Rachel really was dead? And if she was…had somebody killed her? Somebody Max knew? She thought of the letter in the junkyard, Victoria's drugged tea, the photo of Rachel and Frank, her connection to Nathan, Stella and Trevor talking about her having sex with Jefferson…Rachel knew everyone. She was the most popular girl in school. Somebody might've wanted her dead. Somebody with means and opportunity, somebody with a motive…but what motive? Who was Rachel, really? "She was super good at acting." Dana's words echoed in Max's head. Whoever the missing girl was, she was clearly good at playing different roles- on stage and in her life. Popular girl, party girl, Chloe's girlfriend, Frank's girlfriend…maybe she was so good at manipulating people that she could convince them to see whatever she wanted them to see. Maybe somebody saw through her lies…maybe that person killed her.
The conditioner bottle slipped out of the shower caddy and landed with a clunk on the shower floor, snapping Max back to reality. She shook her head vehemently. She seriously needed to stop having these morbid, obsessive thoughts about Rachel. Whatever happened to her, she was gone. As Max slipped out of the shower, dried herself, and started walking back to her room, however, she couldn't help but think how awful it would be if she was really dead. Chloe would be so devastated…she would probably never get over it. But on the other hand, as gruesome as it sounded, did Max really want Rachel to be alive? Did she want her to come back?
She opened the door to her room and paused for a second, her heart in her throat. Chloe was sprawled on her bed, her hand by her cheek and a soft, sleepy smile on her lips. Her eyelashes fluttered, but she was still asleep. Her skin glowed, her cheeks were slightly pink, and her toes were curled up. Every time Max thought the girl couldn't get more beautiful, she did. She suddenly remembered a quote from her favourite book, Wuthering Heights. "He is more myself than I am…whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." She'd never been able to relate to it before, but now she could understand.
Max bit her lip, her heart twisting with bittersweet tenderness. She was happy, but she was more scared than she'd ever been in her life. Because she was utterly, irrevocably, head over heels in love with this girl.
Shit. She was in it. She was really, really in it.