We drive in awkward silence for a while, the lighthouse fading away in the rear view mirror. I can see her knuckles turning white from holding the steering wheel. I can't tell if it's because she just started driving or if it's towards me but knowing how she just blew up at me back there, it's probably towards me.

Chloe exhales loudly enough to catch my attention from playing with my camera's, well, camera. "Arcadia hasn't changed much, huh? Still a hick town with a pretty view."

A vibration makes me look down at my phone. "I haven't gone outside of Blackwell that much except for coffee and school shit. Just stayed inside whenever there was no class and watched random movies. Total loser move, I know." I click on the text notification.

Warren: bro, u got the flash drive, right?

Oh shit. I slump down in the chair, filled with guilt. We'll be back before curfew, right?

"It's whatever, dude. I do the same thing hella late at night now. Get something to eat, roll up some grass, and press play. Fun fact, watching movies while stoned is like having those 3D glasses," she says while smirking. Chloe smoking weed? Totally couldn't have imagined that. I know her like the back of my hand. Nothing she says can surprise me.

"God that sounds like heaven."

"Indeed. Never go to a play high, though Max. I learned that one the very hard way."

Geez. We just met after five years apart and already back to how it was before. Minus the getting pissed at me part. "Alright, you know what's next. Sto-ry time," I say as if I was chanting.

She rolls her eyes. "So, my friend's a lead actress in the school plays-"

"Rachel Amber? You know her?"

A blush forms almost instantly alongside a smile that I can see she's trying to hide so hard. "Uh, you could say that."

"Be honest. Did she replace me?"

Her cheeks are redder than strawberries now. "I think you two would be really really good friends."

Chloe is totally hiding something. Sounds like a job for Detective Caulfield. I wait for a second before saying anything, watching the waves sparkle in the distance. "So… what do you mean exactly when you say I could say that? About Rachel."

"She's helped me with a lot of shit that happened. You know the security guard guy, David?"

I nod.

"Yeah. For like, three years he was my step dad. Worst. Dad. Ever. When my mom broke up with him earlier this year, I really wanted to buy a 'Number second to last dad' coffee cup online but she talked me out of it."

"I take it that you and Joyce are doing okay?"

She laughs. "Yeah. Until she dumped step douche, we got into hella fights. That's when Rachel helped me too. That was way after my ink, though," her arm goes up to show the tattoo, which is actually really freaking cool. Wish I could get a tattoo. Just a little one on my forearm.

"I heard the removal thing for it is super painful." Heard being once on a Google search for a story I was writing for school.

"Fuck that. This is the last thing of my crazy ass days that's still around. Well, my really crazy ass days."

Expected as well. Even back then, Chloe would do shit that had me nervous. I don't blame her though. William's death hit all of us hard. Can't imagine what she felt. "What'd you do?"

A shake of her head is paired with a smirk before indicating into a U-turn, little dangly thing under the rearview mirror shaking and twisting. "Name anything and I've probably done it."

"Drugs?"

"Yup."

"Fighting?"

"Yup."

Hopefully this doesn't ruin the little moment we have here. "Sex?"

"Uh...yeah. Who hasn't by now?"

That wasn't very cash money of you. However, if I wasn't such a wallflower and actually went over to that guys house, then maybe it's a different story. Self cockbloackage. "Crimes?"

"Too many to count."

"Mosh pits? You always wanted to go to one when we were younger."

"Shakabrah, motherfucker." She throws up a rockstar sign like a Californian surfer at a beach. "Me and Rachel would come to my place with bruises and just go hella fast up to my room to make sure my mom didn't see us. She'd freak if she saw it."

Rachel comes over. Then again, I also did. Like a lot. Way more than she ever has. Alright, that was really not coolio, Max. "Oh! The play thing you were gonna talk about."

The truck jumps up, shaking my world like an earthquake. Something underneath pops and nearly swerves us into the railing. Chloe pumps the brake and skids the truck to a stop on the side of the road, the sky becoming orange as I glance out. She lets go out of the steering wheel and looks at me up and down. "Holy shitballs. You okay?"

I reach for the camera that fell between my feet, my voice straining momentarily. "Shaken, but not stirred."

"Well, I am very shaken and very stirred."

As soon as I come up with my camera, she's already outside looking at the front tire with disgust. Cold wind from the open door makes me shudder. "How bad is it?"

"Like… if we kept driving we'd be hella dead, bad." I, uh, think that's usually what happens when you drive on a flat tire.

I jump out the truck and join her in examining the tire. It's a complete bust. The rubber split open near the middle and the actual metal wheel was super close to touching the road.

Squatting down, she pulls back a flap. "You really can't be shitting me right now. I told the road dudes that there was a big ass pothole right there like last week!" Her voice is back to when we were at Blackwell, this time way more annoyed and not towards me atleast.

"Well, what's the plan, now?"

She thinks for a second before standing and giving the tire a light kick. "You know anyone who could fix this?"

Warren? He's a car dude. I think. He's a lot of dude things. Chemistry dude, Warcraft dude, weird gore movies dude, kinda awkward but also really cool dude. But we need someone with an actual tire in their car. I just shake my head and bite my lip.

"Guess I'll call the towing people."

"How are we getting back to town?"

Her head bounces side to side, phone in hand. Finally, she sighs. "Rachel just texted me and said she'll be in here in a little bit."

Oh God. Popular people. Hate being around them. Makes me feel so… little next to them. At least she sounds like a really cool person. Plus, what could go wrong? Just sit in the backseat all quiet, and then they talk for super long and realize you aren't adding anything to the conversation so then they ask you something and you don't know what to say. Then the person in the passenger seats does that thing where they put their arm on the driver seat and look back at you waiting for a response. Then the driver looks at you through the rearview mirror so now you're scared that the car's going to crash, but nope. The only thing crashing is your social battery and the will to live after shrugging your shoulders and they go back to talking as if you don't exist.

Not if Detective Caulfield has anything to say about it.