Max's troubles began long before she arrived in Arcadia Bay.

The first thing she realized after coming to her senses was that she was sitting in her own room, wearing what was arguably the ugliest, most comfortable tartan sweater she owned, the pen in her hand hovering over the latest entry in her journal. The clock and calendar on her desk announced that it was quarter past 6 PM, Friday, the 19th of April.

The second thing she noticed was that, unlike her other forays deep into the past, she wasn't bound by a restrictive white field of a polaroid frame—looking out her window, she could spy Seattle's city lights winking into view. Peering out her open door showed an empty hallway, unhindered by white blankness.

Max dropped her pen and fairly leaped out of her chair. "I'm really here," she said, staring down at her hands like she was seeing them for the first time. Tuhudda had really done it. And at the heels of that— does this mean I get to stay here without a time limit? Was that what the wise woman meant about things being different?

There was no time to dwell on the details. She had a long road ahead of her.

Her choice of date served her well—her parents were away on a business trip until Sunday afternoon, taking away one major obstacle from an unplanned visit to her hometown. First things first: she immediately booted up her laptop and purchased a ticket for the last Boltbus bound for Portland. She then piled some clothes and toiletries into an overnight bag before flying out the door and into the night.

Just as she was getting on her Boltbus, Max took the final, crucial step: dialing a number she hadn't called in five years. She had ample time to rehearse her speech in her head while waiting for Chloe to pick up, but the instant that familiar albeit raspy voice reached her ear, Max was overwhelmed by a swell of emotion that left her momentarily speechless.

Chloe, you're really okay…

It took all the self-control she had to keep her emotions in check and say everything she needed to. But in the end, she got Chloe's promise. Now all she needed to do was make it all the way back to Arcadia Bay, where the real work awaited her.

Peering out the window, Max spied a Top Pot Donuts that was just closing shop. Hang on. If I'm going to get anywhere with Chloe, a peace offering would help a lot.

The waiter inside had just flipped the OPEN sign on the door. Max reached out her left hand, expecting the familiar tug on her fingertips and the dizzying pressure on her skull that always accompanied her rewinds.

Nothing happened.

Max blinked, stared at her open palm. "Maybe I'm just rusty?" She shook it like a malfunctioning remote control then reached out to try again. And again. And again.

Sweat beading on her forehead, heart hammering away at her ribs, Max tried repeatedly to seize control of time. But time was having none of it; the seconds continued to slip through her outstretched fingers.

"No, no, no!" Max clutched her head in her clammy hands. Some people turned their heads to look at her, but she paid them no mind. She couldn't believe it—she was completely, utterly normal.

Why? How could this happen? I've been able to use my powers before when I traveled into the past. Why not now? Was it because of Tuhudda's interference? Or something else? And without powers, how can I convince Chloe and Rachel? How can I make them believe they're in danger?

As the bus rushed past Seattle's bright cityscape, Max spent the next several hours wide awake, heart fluttering like a caged bird in her chest, trying to think of a way out of her dilemma. It was not till the dawn started to break in the east that she finally put together a plan. Not a good one, horribly risky, and could possibly put her in Chloe's shitlist forever, but it was the best she could come up with.

Step one: get a large bag of chocolate chip muffins.

"Told you you'd make us late."

Chloe stubbed her cigarette against the outside of her car door and threw a sidelong glare at the girl in the passenger seat. It was already 7:12 AM when they left Arcadia Bay and started cruising south towards Lincoln City. The greasy hash brown she had stuffed into her mouth just twenty minutes earlier now sat uneasily in her stomach and didn't help her mood one bit.

Still, it was hard to stay annoyed at Rachel, not when she was lounging carelessly in her seat, one elbow propped on the open window, the sun glinting off her hair and her aviators. She seemed dressed for fun today, and Chloe's eyes couldn't help but follow those long tan legs where they ended in white sandals and red toenails. Driving around with Rachel usually proved to be a risky affair.

"It's fine," Chloe growled over the wind as she floored the accelerator, sending her truck hurtling down the highway. "Max knows to wait for me."

"Which makes her the punctual one of the two of you."

"I can make up for lost time with my mad driving skills."

"Well, before you burn up the pavement, you ought to know that you do have a passenger who doesn't necessarily want to live fast and die young."

When Chloe didn't reply, Rachel quipped, "Someone's a bit tense today."

"Not me."

"No? You look like you could snap a pencil between your ass cheeks." Rachel peered at her over her shades. "She's really got under your skin, huh?"

Chloe threw her another frown. "Look, I'm not, like, her groupie or anything."

"I'm just teasing, you dork." Rachel's laughter rippled through the space between them. "What is up with you today?"

Chloe shrugged. "It's just…I'm not sure how Max is going to react."

"React to what, exactly?"

"To me. I mean…well, look at me."

A smile flitted across Rachel's lips. "Been doing that all morning."

"No, I mean, look at how much I've changed. You've seen pics of me from five years ago, right?"

"That's what you're worried about? That your ex—"

"She's not my ex."

"—best friend…Is going to take one look at you and then hop right back on the bus for Seattle? Chloe. Get a hold of yourself. Do I need to remind you how many student—dudes AND chicks—eyeball you on a regular basis each time you pick me up from Blackwell? Do I need to reiterate how much I wish I could take a baseball bat to their collective faces at least five times a week? What's it going to take to convince you how good you look?"

"That's not what I mean, Rach. It's about…about whether we'd still…"

"Hit it off? Oh, I see. Because you've changed? You're thinking of Max as the same pony-tailed girl from five years ago. Well, what if she's changed too? What if she's got piercings and wears black lipstick and too much eyeshadow?"

Chloe guffawed at the mental image. "That's hella crazy. You don't know Max."

"No," muttered Rachel, turning her eyes back to the glittering Pacific coast. "No, I don't."

As it turned out, Chloe did make up for lost time: they arrived at the Lincoln City bus stop just a few minutes past 8 AM. The bus stop was just a large parking lot bound by a chain link fence and situated next to a red brick convenience store. Chloe parked between two spaces, but Rachel admonished her. "What would Max think if she saw you parking like an asshole?"

"She wouldn't mind," Chloe muttered. But she adjusted the truck into a slot anyway.

As Rachel opened her passenger door, Chloe caught her hand. "Hey, listen," Chloe said. "Max is—well, how do I put this…she spooks easy, you know? So I'd appreciate it if…" she trailed off, grasping for words.

Rachel stared back, face unreadable, but only for a moment before slipping on an easy grin. "Hey, I promise I won't freak out your BFF," she said. "Just tell me to shut up if I start getting too nosey."

Chloe's breath loosened a little in her chest. "Right, thanks. Good talk."

They approached the waiting shed near the convenience store entrance. A Boltbus was parked by the road, and a few people were milling about, waiting to get on.

"You see her?" Rachel asked.

"No," Chloe murmured, tucking her hands into her pockets while glancing about. She spotted an elderly man in a tweed jacket sitting by himself, a pair of Asian backpackers consulting Google Maps on their phones, and a young couple quietly arguing while smoking by the trash cans. Not a hippie in sight. "She should be here by now. D'you think she got on the wrong bus?"

"I checked the website. Only one line goes this route at the time she specified." Rachel shrugged. "Relax. Maybe she's in the restroom. Did she text?"

Chloe checked her phone. "No such luck. Guess we'll wait here then." She plunked down on the wooden bench and watched the passengers form a line for the Boltbus.

Rachel scanned the front of the convenience store, but her eyes alighted on something more interesting: the vending machine by the entrance.

"I'm going for a Coke. You want anything?"

"Your treat?"

The corner of Rachel's lip quirked at that. "That's pretty much a given."

Chloe grinned back. "Aren't you supposed to be watching your girlish figure?"

"Didn't hear anyone complaining about my girlish figure last night—just someone wearing out my name. Am I getting you a drink or not?"

"Dr. Pepper."

"BRB. Try not to give a senior citizen a heart attack while I'm gone." Rachel bounded towards the vending machine just as the store doors opened.

"No promises." Chloe turned her attention back to the Boltbus, where the passengers were already filing inside. In a moment, the bus closed its doors and trundled away, leaving her in a deserted lot. She propped her elbows onto her knees and reached for a cigarette from her jacket pocket, then thought better of it. Try not to shock Max more than absolutely necessary, Price.

Try as she might, she couldn't ignore the fluttering in her stomach and the prevailing silence just made it worse. What am I so nervous for anyway? It's just Max, for Chrissakes.

Yeah. Just Max. You know, the girl who just last night called you up out of the blue to unload a ton of weird shit on you, like she loves you. No biggie. Fuck, I should've taken the offer for a shower last night. I probably stink of weed.

Chloe sniffed herself and caught the scent of lavender. Scratch that, I smell like Rachel. Really not the improvement I had in mind. Maybe I should smoke a bit to mask it.

She had just stuck a cigarette into her mouth when a familiar, quiet voice to her right said, "Chloe?"

The cigarette tumbled from Chloe's slack lips; she made a grab for it only to see it bounce off her palm and go pinwheeling into the gutter. Swallowing her regret, she swiveled to face a girl with short brunette hair, a brown jacket, and khaki pants standing just a few feet to her right. A green cloth backpack hung from her slim shoulders and she clutched a large white paper bag in one hand.

Is that Max? Holy fuck she's cute. That hair looks great on her. Aaaand she caught me sniffing myself. Good job, me.

Chloe sprang to her feet. "Hey," was all she could manage before drawing a blank. Everything she had thought of saying on the way here vied for control of her tongue.

It didn't help that Max seemed pretty much in the same boat, standing there, worrying the paper bag with her hands, her gaze locked with Chloe's. There was not a sliver of surprise on her face at Chloe's appearance. But her clear blue eyes were misting over with tears, and the lips beneath that tiny, freckled nose quivered with emotion.

"I'm back," said Max, as if it were all she could say.

"Y-yeah," Chloe replied, "looks like you are."

The silence stretched on and on. Shit, this is getting weird. Say something, Price. Play it cool. Pay her a compliment.

Breaking out a smile, she pointed a finger gun at Max's face. "Say, bangin' bangs."

Max blinked. "Huh?"

Chloe mentally slapped herself. Twice. "I-I mean your hair," she amended, dropping her hand. "It's neat."

"Oh. Thanks. I like yours too. It really suits you, Chloe."

Chloe couldn't believe how good it felt to hear Max speak her name out loud and in person. She wanted to say exactly that, but the only word she could wrangle out of her mouth was, "Cool."

Max tucked a strand behind one ear and seemed to see something interesting on the ground. And just as the silence threatened to overwhelm them again, another voice cut in.

"Max Caulfield, right?"

Max jumped, turned, and before she could even steel herself, was face to face with the Girl.

She had seen her pictures before, had fully expected to be impressed. She didn't expect to be disarmed, captured by a pair of laughing hazel eyes, a smile filled with brilliant white teeth, and a perfectly symmetrical face that seemed a bit too close for comfort. The Girl leaned forward, arms tucked behind her back, blue feather earring swinging against her honey hair as she regarded Max with candid interest. By some trick of the morning sun, she seemed to be glowing, surrounded by flickering light much like that of a candle flame. When Max blinked, the illusion was gone.

Feeling time restart around her, Max said, "Y-yeah, that's me." She extended what she hoped was a warm, dry hand, only to find herself engulfed by a pair of toned arms and the subtle scent of lavender.

"Chloe's told me so much about you!" The Girl exclaimed. "I'm Rachel by the way, and—oh, sorry—I'm a hugger."

"That's…um, fine!" Max gulped and awkwardly patted her back. Get a grip, Caulfield—it's just a hug.

Rachel stepped back but kept contact, her hands sliding down to trap Max's free one in a firm grip. "I finally get to meet someone who knows all the shit Chloe got up to when she was a kid. You and I have got to talk."

"We…we will." Max tried to come up with something longer than two words and failed utterly. She stole a glance back at Chloe, who seemed content to gape at them in rapt confusion.

If Rachel was aware of the effect she had on Max, she had the mercy not to show it. Relinquishing her hold, she inclined her head to the paper bag. "Are those muffins?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." Max raised the bag. "From the store. Chocolate chip and oven-fresh. I thought you two might be hungry."

Rachel's grin broadened. "Of course! Who wouldn't be hungry for chocolate-chip muffins? That's like a fundamental law of the universe." She peered at Max. "I'm pretty handy at reading people, so I can tell by looking at you that you haven't had a bite to eat yourself. How about we sit down someplace, grab some coffee, and chat over breakfast?"

"That sounds awesome."

Rachel tilted her head to look behind Max. "How about it, Chloe? Up for some coffee?"

Chloe, who seemed to have awoken from her stupor, replied, "Well, since you didn't get me my Dr. Pepper..."

Max could practically hear Rachel rolling her eyes. "I didn't get anything, if you hadn't noticed. Let's just focus on the matter at hand, shall we?"

"Coffee it is. C'mon, Max," Chloe jerked her head to the café across the road. Max nodded and followed Chloe as she stalked across the road, but hesitated when Rachel sidled up to Chloe's right side and took the taller girl's arm. Chloe glanced at Rachel in surprise but did not object.

Max felt a twinge somewhere inside herself. All she had ever heard of Rachel were second-hand stories, but seeing her radiance—that would be the only appropriate word to use here, radiance —Max could finally understand why Chloe never forgot her. The two of them just looked right together: Chloe so effortlessly cool in her torn jacket and red top, Rachel at her elbow with those glinting sunglasses in her golden hair, tight white shirt with the word "Queen" printed in front and those even tighter jean shorts. They looked like they owned the place—like they ruled the world.

Max swallowed the rancid taste in her mouth and hurried to catch up, feeling much like a stray puppy as she walked beside them. She couldn't afford these distractions, not when she had her task before her.

Just as she was thinking this, Rachel caught Max's eye. "So Chloe and I were having a discussion earlier. She was completely terrified you'd be turned off by her current look. Be honest, Max. What do you think?"

Aghast, Chloe threw Rachel a warning glance. Max tried to will the heat climbing up her neck from reaching her cheeks. "I-I think she looks badass," she replied as nonchalantly as she could.

Rachel gave a satisfied smile, as if she knew something Max didn't. "Not quite the word I'd use, but yeah, 'badass' works too."

"I'm right here, you know," Chloe muttered.

"We know, we can't seem to get rid of you," Rachel laughed, a sound that seemed to ring in a hollow space inside Max's chest.

What have I gotten myself into?

"So. You've got a story to tell us, right Max?" Rachel asked.

They sat around a small table on the patio of the deserted café, each supplied with a steaming cup care of Rachel. Max nursed her cappuccino with both hands, feeling very much like a refugee from a foreign country. She was hyper-aware of Rachel's eyes on her as the blonde girl sipped from her own cup.

"Yeah Max, spill—the story, not the coffee." Chloe chuckled at her own joke while dumping packet after packet of sugar into her latte. "What's with the cloak-and-dagger shit you've been telling me on the phone?"

Max took a deep breath, mentally rehearsing the speech she had worked out while on the bus. "First of all, thank you both for coming." She glanced at Rachel, who returned a slight nod. "I'm so happy you're here. I couldn't sleep on the way, wondering if I had warned you in time. I'm glad you kept her safe, Chloe."

"Uh, sure. Whatever." Chloe replied, staring down at her coffee. "Now, can we fast forward to where you tell us precisely what I kept her safe from?"

"You said I was in danger," said Rachel. "From Nathan. Yeah, he's a bit…off-putting nowadays—"

"Understatement of the year," Chloe grumbled as she took a bite from a muffin.

"—but he's a friend. Why would he hurt me?"

Max took a deep breath. "It's all true, what I said. Nathan…he's not alright in the head, Rachel. Something's got its hooks in him. Part of it is drugs—"

"Drugs?" Chloe raised her head, glanced at Rachel. "You heard anything about this?"

"I've heard rumors he's been on medication," said Rachel, frowning, "but clearly that's not what you mean."

"No," said Max. "It's much worse. Nathan's in deeper than you know. More than that, he's obsessed with you, Rachel. He feels you've rejected him and wants you to himself. That's why he's planning on drugging and kidnapping you."

Chloe's grip tightened around her stirrer as if it were a dagger. But Rachel went on in a calm, level voice, "You said more than that, Max. You said he was going to kill me."

"Y-yes. I mean that, too."

Rachel set her cup down and leaned forward. "How could you know that? According to Chloe, you haven't been back in Arcadia for something like…five years? How do you know any of this?"

And here we are, thought Max, setting her own cup down as well. Everything hinges on what happens next. For the umpteenth time this day, she wished she had her powers back. This would have been so easy with rewinds.

"Because it's already happened," she said.

Chloe blinked, oh so slowly. "Okay, I kinda feel like you need to expand a bit on that statement."

"There's no good way of putting this, so I'm going to just flat out say it." Max looked from one girl to the other, making sure to hold Rachel's gaze at the end.

"I'm not the Max you think I am. I come from a different timeline, six months into the future."

Dead silence all around. Chloe broke eye contact first; the corners of her mouth twitched and she scratched at her lip to hide it. Rachel's brows inched towards her hairline, but her face stayed impassive and difficult to read.

"I know how all this sounds," Max pressed on. "I promise you, I'm not high. And I'm not crazy."

"Ah," said Chloe, who was now picking chocolate pieces from her muffin.

"Max," said Rachel. "I hope you understand this is a lot to take in. You're telling us you can travel through time?"

"Yes," Max replied without missing a beat.

Chloe grinned. "Using what, a device of some kind? Like a big blue box or a really cool flying car?"

Max caught the smallest shift in Rachel's balance. Chloe winced; did she just get kicked under the table?

"N-no," Max said, feeling even more uncomfortable. "It's…it's difficult to explain. I can project my consciousness into my past self. That's how I got here."

Chloe said, "Great, so, this is the part where you wow us with a demonstration of your powers. Right?"

"I…" Max's face prickled with warmth. "I can't. I tried, but when I traveled this far back it seems...I lost all my powers."

"Hokay," Chloe said, biting into her muffin. "Nothing then?"

Max looked up. "I can tell you what I know.

"I know you have an upside-down American flag for a curtain over your bed. I know that you and your stepdad David don't get along: you call him 'step-douche' behind his back. I don't know if you've done so yet, but you take his handgun and hide it in a box under your bed. You own a rusty old truck with the plate number TWNPKS. You were expelled from Blackwell, but you don't care—you love living free with no one telling you what to do."

Chloe by now had ceased chewing. "How did you..."

"Because six months from now we spend a week together in Arcadia Bay, and you show me everything I just said." Max faced Rachel next. "You're an actress and a model, and you dream of becoming a star. You're also a straight-A student who loves art and photography. Your room number in the Blackwell dorms is 224. Victoria Chase hates your guts but respects you in her own way. You and Chloe want nothing more than to drive out of Arcadia Bay to pursue all your dreams."

"...You learn all this from me?" Rachel asked.

Max's eyes fell away from hers. "No."

"What do you mean...no?"

"There's more I have to tell you," Max hurried on. "But I can't do so if neither of you believes that I know what I know because of where I came from. Please, take me back to Arcadia Bay. From there I'll do my best to prove to you I'm telling you the truth."

Another silence threatened to stretch into infinity. Finally, Rachel said, "Would you excuse us a moment?"

Max's heart sank, but she nodded. This was not the reaction she had hoped for, but at least it was better than her worst scenario. She did not think she could bear it if Chloe outright laughed at her.

Rachel dragged Chloe inside the café, away from Max's line of sight. "Okay," she said. "Quick assessment."

Chloe had slipped her hands into her jean pockets. "What can I say? Look, I'm sorry I brought you along. If I'd known she'd be wasting our time…I don't know how to tell you this, but Max is confused. Maybe it's problems at home. Maybe it's a…a really bad trip and she just needs to come down. Seriously, I don't know what to think. This is some crazy bullshit!"

Rachel fiddled with her feather earring as she gazed out to where the brunette girl sat, head bowed in thought and her hands far from her cup. "We can rule out drugs, I think. No symptoms, and she's cognizant."

"Okay then, Doctor Amber, then she's running a game on us. A huge joke. She must've gotten that info on us from somewhere. Maybe she visited Arcadia a few weeks back, stalked us before cooking up this wild time travel crap."

"Do you actually have it?"

"Have what?"

"The gun. Under your bed."

"No! The fuck would I? I mean, sure, it's a hella great idea, but Sergeant 'Stache would hang my ass out to dry if he found out, thanks."

Rachel was shaking her head. "If she's lying, she's good."

"What?"

Rachel faced Chloe again. "I don't get that vibe from her. You can tell if a person's lying from their tells-the way they hide their mouths or touch their noses or move eyes around while talking. There's none of that here. She believes her own story."

Chloe gaped at her, then broke into a laugh. "Oh, I get it now!"

"Hm?"

"Gotta admit, you got me going there, Amber. You really did. I don't know how you managed to rope Max into this, but this is a fine piece of work. Your best yet."

"Chloe, what the fuck? Are you accusing me of setting this up?"

Chloe threw up her hands. "Oh c'mon, Rach! Like what Spock said: 'Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.' Max couldn't have known any of that on her own unless someone told her. Someone. Like. You ." She pointed dramatically at Rachel, who simply crossed her arms in exasperation.

"Okay, Phoenix Wright. First of all, the quote's originally by Sherlock Holmes. Second, it's a fallacy. Third, why the fuck would I even?"

"Dude. I've seen you pull the most epic pranks on Victoria just because you're bored. Well, no way you can't pull a fast one on me. I know you too well."

"Clearly," came Rachel's tart reply. "Great, not only do I have to figure out what your friend's really up to, I have to convince you that I'm not behind all this. Way too much work and no real payoff."

"Look, what other explanation is there? Unless you're telling me I should call Stephen Hawking because we have an actual fucking time-traveler sitting five feet away ?"

"Nobody's suggesting that. That's just demented." Rachel turned back to look thoughtfully at Max. "But there's something she's not telling us. She's gone through something…terrible. A trauma maybe."

That sobered Chloe up. "What do you mean, trauma?"

"I don't know. Yet. But I plan to."

"A plan? What sort of plan? Am I in this plan?"

"Look, just follow my lead, okay? Whatever this is about, I promise I'll drag it out of her."

"...Part of me still think you're behind this, Amber."

"Like whatever, Spock."

Max looked up warily as the pair returned to the table. "I'd like to hear more about your story, Max," Rachel said. "To tell you the truth, it's pretty hard to swallow, I'm sure you can appreciate that. But I don't think you're lying."

Max's face lit up with hope. "You believe me?"

Rachel held up a hand. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Like I said, I'd like to hear more, but I'm sure you're not comfortable discussing it here. What do you say we head back to Arcadia and get you settled in?"

Max nodded vigorously. "Sure. I'm ready now. I mean, if you are."

"Great. Have you got a place to stay?"

"Well, I…" Max paused. "I haven't really thought it through, being honest? I've got some cash, so I could crash in a motel just for the night. I have to get back to Seattle tomorrow before my parents return and realize I've run off."

"Oh hey," said Chloe, "you don't have to spend money on that. You can always—"

"Stay over at my place," Rachel finished.

Flabbergasted, Chloe half-turned to the blonde beside her. "Um, what?"

"Chloe, if you don't shut your mouth, your tongue's liable to fall out," quipped Rachel, who was positively beaming. "Besides, you know David's not going to be happy to hear you've got a guest all of a sudden. You're already in his shit list for not coming home last night." She turned to Max. "What do you think about staying with me?"

Before Chloe could interject, Max quickly said, "Yes."

"Yes?" Chloe repeated.

"Yes," Max repeated, flushing. "I mean, I would be happy to stay with you, just for the night. If you're okay with it."

"Why wouldn't I be okay with it?" Rachel laughed and favored Chloe a sidelong wink. "Let's you and I sort this all out over a sleepover, yeah?"

Chloe just stared back. If someone had told her that her former best friend would be sleeping in the same bed where she just had mind-blowing sex with her current best friend, Chloe would have asked them what kind of weed they were smoking and where she could score some.

I was so not prepared for today, she thought, but nodded to Rachel anyway.