Chloe rolled out of bed that Saturday morning with a thrumming in her heart and a bounce in her step. It was only 7 AM—a shocking hour for her to be awake, but she simply couldn't stay asleep. Part of her mind still lived in last week's space, when she and Rachel and Max had spent the afternoon dancing atop the waves.

But another part of her had already leaped into the future—to tonight, when she would see them both of them again for the Blackwell Grand Prom, or whatever the fuck it was called. And, more importantly, the stuff that came after. Chloe could barely hold in her excitement at the thought.

Before then, she needed to prep. She needed to go to work early at Popsy's garage so she could leave early. After that, pick up her rented tuxedo. Finally, give Max her third birthday gift.

First things first, though: breakfast. A girl's gotta have priorities.

She was about to bound down the steps, only to hold back when two voices from the dining room reached her ears.

"Do you really have to be out that late?"

"Sorry, hon. It's the job. I get off at 6 AM and will be home in less than half an hour."

"But you won't get a wink of sleep between now and your shift at Blackwell!"

"I'll get three hours' shut-eye between the two jobs, that's enough. Had it worse back in boot camp."

Fuck. She'd forgotten that David was still here. She considered hiding up in her room till he left, but she didn't have that kind of time—not if she wanted to leave work earlier today.

Hold it together. You only need to make it till tonight . Chloe grit her teeth as she let her feet take her downstairs. When she entered the dining room, Joyce, who was sliding fried eggs onto David's plate, nearly dropped the pan in surprise.

"Stars and daisies—is this really my darling daughter up before 8 in the morning?"

"Don't get used to it," muttered Chloe, taking a seat opposite them.

"I likely won't, but I sure can dream." Happy to ignore Chloe's sour mood, Joyce had hurried over to the stove and cracked two more eggs onto the pan. David, meanwhile, chewed thoughtfully on his bacon as he eyed her. Chloe speared her fork into a piece of toast from the serving plate, studiously avoiding David's gaze. The fucker seemed to be intent on staring her down.

"Going to work at that garage again?" he asked.

Oh look, just what I need—a conversation . "Yeah," she said around a mouthful of bread. "What about it?"

Joyce appeared at David's side, laying a hand on his shoulder. "We were just talkin' about how happy we are to see you so devoted to your job. Isn't that right, dear?"

David nodded. "It's good you're finally living up to your responsibilities, Chloe," he said. "And it's a fine thing to see you spending more time at work. Keeps you out of trouble."

"Gee, thanks."

"I just think that you could do so much better than Pop's Garage."

A palpable chill settled on the room; even Joyce's smile faltered.

Chloe let her fork clatter onto her plate as she met David's eye. "I'm doing fine where I am."

"I hardly think that's true," David replied, shoveling egg into his mouth. "Pops doesn't even pay you a full salary, does he? It ain't right to have you slave away for him without full compensation. Look, I know someone from the station who needs a hand with—"

Chloe rose to her feet, her chair skidding behind her. "Yeah, no. Just because you suddenly got two jobs doesn't make you a financial guru. And I'd get a prefrontal lobotomy first before getting help from you or your pals in blue." She turned on her heel and headed for the door.

"Chloe!" Joyce said. "Your breakfast!"

"Nah, I'm good. I got places to be."

"Hey!" David shouted after her. "Your mother's asking you to stay and finish your food."

"Help yourself to it, buddy."

"What're you gonna do? Mooch off of your employer again?"

Chloe whirled to face him. "Pops and Marl gave me lunch! What, people don't get to be kind to me anymore?"

"It's disgraceful for you to have to rely on other people. They'll start saying we don't take care of you."

"You two, stop it!" Joyce said. "All I want is for Chloe to sit and have her breakfast."

"Yeah, not happening." Chloe grabbed her jacket from the hook by the door, nearly ripping it in her haste. "I gotta get to work. Thanks for killing off my appetite, asswipe. Good luck on the new job. Far as I'm concerned, the less you're around here, the better."

"Chloe!" Joyce and David said at once. But Chloe was already out the door. Her stomach growled once, but she growled louder deep in her throat and it backed down.

She got in her truck and slammed the door shut, setting her mind on the day ahead. No one—not Jeffershit, not Pisscott, not that fuckwit her mother decided to marry—was going to derail their plans today. No one.

"I'm not sure about this, Rachel."

"Sorry, Maxie, you already agreed. No takebacks!"

Max chewed her lip as she set herself down on a stool in Rachel's bedroom. Only half an hour ago, while they were having breakfast with her parents downstairs, Max had remarked that she'd forgotten to get her haircut before leaving Arcadia Bay the night before. She realized her error the minute Rachel's face lit up like she'd been offered a role on Broadway. " I'll style your hair!" she proclaimed.

Max demurred, but Rachel persisted. She wheedled Max. Max never expected Rachel of all people to wheedle; it was disarming even as it hammered on all of her anxiety buttons. What if Rachel cut hair about as well as she cooked?

But there was no getting out of it now, it seemed. Max pulled the towel over her shoulders as the blonde rummaged through her dresser. "Ah, here we are!" Rachel said, pulling out a pair of shiny shears from a drawer.

"You're way too eager for this."

"Would you relax? It's just a little trim. Plus, I cut Chloe's hair all the time. And you love her look, don't you?"

Max couldn't argue with that, but wished all the same that Chloe were here to verify that claim. Meanwhile, Rachel had picked up an open magazine and tapped the shears on a close-up of a model's hairstyle. "So, we keep your bangs, but we trim the rest so it's somewhat shorter at the back and longer towards the front—less pageboy and more A-line bob, yeah?"

"Not that I'm saying I'll need it, Rachel, but do you have a wig I could use in case this doesn't work out?"

"You are so cute." Rachel snipped twice with her scissors. "I work without a net, Max. Besides, compared to Chloe's hair, you're easy mode." She picked up a bottle spray from her table and spritzed a fine, cool mist all over Max's head. "Now, where to start? Hmm, guess I'll work on the back."

Max kept her gaze locked straight ahead as the other girl slipped out of sight behind her. She might never get used to someone paying her this much attention. Rachel was clearly playing a game of dress-up Barbie with her as the doll.

Rachel's cool fingers combed through her hair before attaching a large clip to portion it. The first few snips sent some of her brown locks drifting to the floor. Max gulped. "That's-great-I-think-I'm-good-thanks!"

"I just started, silly." Snip. "Hmm, you have a few split ends back here. You'll probably want to condition more often, Max."

"Uh, duly noted."

A giggle to her left, followed by a few more snips . "I'll text you a few brands to try." Rachel applied gentle pressure on her shoulder as her voice pitched lower. "Loosen up, would you? You're so twitchy, I'm afraid I might nick your ear."

Snip, snip. Max held herself still, watching helplessly as more of her hair drifted to the floor.

"Oh, you got a few strands stuck here." Rachel blew lightly against her cheek; the sensation sent a tingle down Max's spine. "Now, I'll try to shape the back of your hair. Tilt your head a little. There. Hold still."

Breathing deeply, Max—almost against her will—found herself relaxing. The tension seeped away from her shoulders. Her breathing soon softened and her focus drifted. Her next inhale caught a familiar scent. "Is that vanilla?" she asked.

"Oh, you like? Mom was baking earlier today so I went and grabbed some. When she was young, she couldn't afford to buy perfume, so she and her sisters would dab on some vanilla before going out on a date. I picked it up from her."

"I love vanilla." Shutting her eyes, Max breathed in to chase the scent. It was easy now that Rachel had drifted closer, her head bent low, clucking her tongue as she cut away at Max's fringe. Rachel began to hum a tune, and Max lost herself between her soft voice and the whisper of the scissors.

"This is looking good," Rachel murmured, crossing over to the other side. "A bit more here to match your jawline...tilt your head this way, please."

Snip.

"Once we're done, we can pick a dress from my wardrobe you can wear to the prom. Then later, I can do your makeup. Nothing fancy, don't worry. Just some eyeshadow and then a little highlighter to show off these gorgeous cheekbones of yours."

Max was barely listening, still caught between the mesmerizing cadence of the scissors and the ghostly scent of vanilla. "Why are you so good to me, Rachel?"

She could hear the smile in Rachel's reply. "Why do you make it so easy?" Her thigh gently bumped Max's knee. "Hey, getting sleepy?"

"No."

"They say people tell the truth when they're half-asleep."

"S'true. Chloe used to call out the names of people she hated in school while she slept."

"Heh. She's such a dork, isn't she?"

"Mm-hmm..."

"She talks about you all the time. She never stops worrying about you when you're not in town."

"Yeah."

"It's no wonder you're in love with her."

"Ye—"

Max's eyes flew open, met the pair of hazel ones gazing down at her. Rachel had paused her cutting as she studied Max's expression.

"Um...what? N-no way. You're kidding, right? Chloe and I have known each other since we were kids and— "

"And you're in love with her."

"I-I never said—"

"Max."

Max hung her head. Never before did she ache to have her rewind powers back. "I-is it that obvious?"

"From the way you look at her when you think no one's watching? Pretty obvs."

Max swallowed hard. Rachel ran a hand through her own hair, absently looking at a point at the far end of the room. "What was your Chloe like? Were you two...together? Back in your timeline?"

Max sighed. "She was sadder, angrier, more desperate. Chloe was so focused on finding you. Like, without you, she was broken. We never really...we didn't..." She drew in a deep breath and looked up at Rachel. "You don't have to say anything. I'm already sure—she's not my Chloe."

For a moment, Rachel kept her eyes in the distance, as if trying to peer into the future. Then she caught the look on Max's face and her smile returned. "Max, are you worried I'm upset at you?"

"Maybe a little?"

"Don't be. I'm not."

"Really?"

"Really." Rachel sighed, smoothed her fingers over Max's hair, and resumed cutting. "Although, I have to confess—I was jealous of you for the longest time."

"Jealous? Of me?"

"Yeah, you. Who wouldn't be after hearing Chloe gab about you for three years? It's like we had your ghost following us around. You two have a special bond, I could tell even back then. And hearing about it was sometimes a lot to take.

"And then you came back to Arcadia. Suddenly you weren't some figure from the past anymore. You're real, flesh and blood. And for a while, I felt threatened by you."

Max's gaze slid away from her. "Believe me, Rachel. I'm the last person you should feel threatened by. I wasn't...wasn't good for Chloe. I abandoned her—you know I did. More than once. What kind of friend—"

"Hey." Rachel stopped cutting and knelt to catch Max's eye. "Don't do that to yourself. Never doubt what you are to Chloe. What matters is you came back, and you saved us. So please remember, Max—I'm glad you're here, that we met. Chloe's forgiven you, so go easy on yourself. Okay?"

She waited for Max to nod, then stood up to resume cutting her hair. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make this a thing. I guess I...I didn't want us to have any secrets between us. You know, of everyone here in Arcadia Bay, you're the only one I'm not keeping secrets from. I'd like for us to trust each other. I want to trust you completely."

"Rachel?"

"Yes?"

"You love her too, don't you?"

Rachel faltered, gazing down at Max wide-eyed, scissors raised like exclamation points. For a moment Max thought that Rachel might laugh it off, or deflect it with another witty remark. Instead, Rachel's fingers crept up to touch something on her own neck—an ordinary-looking steel ring attached to a necklace. Did Chloe give her that?

"Yes." The word fell from Rachel's lips. And there it was. No secrets between them, nothing held back.

Max brushed her fingertips against Rachel's hand. "Chloe's lucky. I meant what I said—I'm happy for you both."

"Thank you," Rachel said, her voice barely above a whisper. "What a pair we make, huh? You and I." She set the scissors down and picked up a brush from her drawer. She combed Max's hair for a minute before stepping back, eyeing her work. "There. I think we're done." Putting the brush down, she picked up a mirror and held it up to Max. "What do you think?"

Startled, Max turned her head from one side to the other. "It...it looks great! Wow, Rachel, you cut it exactly how you said."

"And you were so worried." Rachel made a sweeping gesture with her hand, and a small whirlwind collected all the strands from the floor and deposited it in a nearby trashcan. "C'mon. Let's get you to the sink so I can wash your hair."

As she steered Max towards the door, Rachel grinned and said, "Hey, Max?"

"Yes?

"I'm sorry I kissed your girl while you were away these past few years."

"S'okay." Max thought for a moment, then simpered. "I kissed her while you were away too."

"Oh," Rachel fell silent at the implication. Then she tossed back her hair and laughed, "Fuck you, Caulfield, you skank!"

At 5 PM, Chloe cleaned up her sweaty face with a towel and made her way to where Popsy was tinkering under the hood of a Mercedes.

"I'm done for the day, boss."

Popsy raised his head, mopped his broad brow with one forearm, and eyed her critically. "Gotta say, Chloe, this is some change."

"Say what?"

"You turned in a full day's work every day for a week. For a routine underachiever like you, that's a helluva feat."

"Gee, thanks." He didn't need to know that the reason Chloe stayed longer was to get more time at his workbench so she could finish working on Max's gift.

"It's a compliment." He fished out his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. "Here."

Chloe's eyes popped open. "Whoa, Pops! Not that I'm complaining, but that's a bit more than what I usually—"

"A full week's pay for a full week's work. Fair's fair. Now shut up and take it."

"Hey, no fucking problem." Grinning, Chloe pocketed the cash. She had more than enough to cover the tux and then some. This was shaping up to be a great weekend.

"You did good," Popsy went on. "It felt more like a had an extra hand than a hanger-on. So I wanna make you a deal." He planted a meaty fist against the hood of the car. "Jeff's leavin' town next week—got a job in Portland. There's space for a new employee. I need someone who's quick, hardworking, and consistent. But I suppose I'mma have to settle for you."

Chloe stood stock still, gaping at him. "You're offering me a job?"

"If you're takin' it."

"Well, I gotta check my dance card first...but...yeah. I mean, I'd probably do it if you'd stop playing that god-awful World War 1-era crap you call music."

"Hey!" He stabbed an index finger at her. "The Ink Spots are a goddamn national treasure. Right, Mondays to Fridays, and some overtime on the weekends. A bit more experience and you'll make a top mechanic. So I'm banking on you showin' up. You get me?"

"I getcha." She grinned and waved briefly. "Well, gotta rush. This cash isn't gonna spend itself."

Popsy shook his head, grinning. "None my business, but lately it looks to me like you found yourself something worth fighting for."

Chloe stopped and threw him a look over her shoulder. "Now what're you talking about?"

"You changed, Chloe. It's like you chasin' something. That's good. People're built to chase things. Whatever it is, you keep at it."

"Y-yeah, okay, whatevs," Chloe snorted. "See ya next week, old man."

"Don't you blow it all on weed, girl."

Chloe made a mad dash home for a quick shower before throwing on her rented blue tuxedo. Then, per their plan, she left her truck at home and walked to the Amber residence.

She was annoyed to find someone had beaten her there. Warren was emerging from his aging Subaru while simultaneously straightening his bow tie. He wore a solid black tux and carried a small bouquet of roses in his hand. He waved as soon as she approached. "Oh, hiya, Chloe!"

"Warren." Chloe sauntered over to stand with him in the front yard. One of his shoelaces was untied, but she decided not to tell him that.

"So." Warren scratched the back of his head. "Tonight might be...dangerous, huh?"

"Maybe. Getting cold feet?"

"What? No way. I said I'd help. Even if it means we spend the whole night stalking Jefferson, I'm up for it."

"Great. If he tries something funny, you can Vulcan neck pinch him."

"See, the amazing thing about what you said is you know what a Vulcan neck pinch is."

They both fell quiet at that instant because the front door opened and Rachel stepped out into the night.

She wore a lava-red evening gown that looked like it had been painted on her. The fringes of the neckline curled upwards like flames, and a slit on her right side revealed a long flash of leg and the dragon tattoo on her calf. Chloe realized her mouth was watering.

"Hey," Rachel said when she reached her, leaning up to kiss her cheek. Around her neck, the metal ring Chloe had given her the week before bounced against her collarbone.

"Hey yourself," Chloe breathed. "You look dazzling, as usual."

"And you look fuckable, as usual," Rachel whispered in her ear. "But that's for later." She turned and gave Warren a friendly hug. "Hey, Warren. You good?"

Warren seemed happy just to have been noticed. "Oh yeah, totally. Looking forward to tonight."

"Max'll be out in a sec. She's putting on her shoes." Rachel fixed Chloe a look. "What's this? No bouquet for me?"

"I already got you roses last year," Chloe retorted. "'Sides, I blew all my cash renting this monkey suit. Ah, but then again—" She pulled back her sleeve, revealing a corsage on her wrist, which she unclasped and slipped onto Rachel's.

"Always full of surprises." She admired the corsage, then turned to look as the door behind her opened. "Ah, looks like our squad is complete."

Chloe turned her eyes to the entryway—and shock pulsed through her like a thunderbolt. Max was making her way across the lawn toward them. Chloe had never seen her wear a dress like that before—a bright yellow, satin gown, with matching shoes that peeked out of from under her long pleated skirt. Her shoulders were bare—also a new thing for Chloe—and the shy look on her face made her doubly appealing.

Chloe realized her mouth was hanging open and she snapped it closed. She wanted to wind the clock back to the moment Max first appeared at the door. She wanted to take Max's arm and walk her to the car. She wanted to choke Warren out cold for gawking at her.

When Max reached them, Chloe shook herself and hastened to think of a compliment—but again, Warren beat her to the punch. "You look...amazing," he said.

Max smiled as she accepted his bouquet. "Thanks. This," she gestured at her dress, "is all Rachel's, by the way."

"It's mine," Rachel agreed, eyes twinkling, "but Max owns the fuck out of it."

Chloe struggled to find her footing. I gotta compliment her somehow. Let her know she looks good.

"So," she said, smirking, "finally living out your Disney princess cosplay dream, huh Maximus?" Goddamit, Price.

"Just stop," Max muttered. "I feel so awkward already. And aren't we supposed to be going over the plan tonight?"

"So we shall." Rachel loosened her shoulders and gazed around at them. "Alright, listen. Our objective's pretty clear. For the first half of the night, we go to the prom and keep an eye out for Jefferson and Nathan. We spot them, we make sure to stay out of their way. But we also have to make sure they see us there. Then, once they announce the prom king and queen..." She nodded to Warren.

"Oh!" he said, surprised he was called on to speak. "Right. I...get my car and drive you guys to Chloe's. Then I head to Hayden's place ahead of you guys and wait with the rest."

Chloe picked it up from there. "We change clothes, grab our gear, and head to the site. Once we get what we need, we drive over to Hayden's for the afterparty. Alibi bulletproof."

"And we get to be drunk and stupid for the rest of the night," Rachel finished. "Contingencies?"

"If we get separated," Max said, "we meet up at the school fountain. But..." She fidgeted, looking to each of them. "Let's NOT get separated."

"As much as possible," Rachel agreed. "Keep an eye out for Jefferson and Nathan, and keep an eye on each other. Don't accept drinks from anyone, don't let your cups out of your sight."

"Okay," said Warren, fidgeting. "But, won't you tell the rest of the group where you're going? We might be able to help."

"Thanks for that, Warren," Rachel said. "But the fewer people who know, the greater your deniability. Not knowing protects you. Don't worry, if we need something, we'll call."

Rachel looked around at them. "Alright. All we need is to get through the next few hours and—"

Her phone dinged. Rachel scooped it out of her purse and glanced at it, frowning. "It's Juliet," she said, then turned her screen to show to the rest.

Quasimodo's in his belfry; Frollo not in court

Chloe blinked. "What the fuck? I thought all the teachers are supposed to attend as chaperones."

"That's what I thought too," Max said.

Warren shrugged. "Maybe he's late?"

"Not like him," Rachel said. "I don't like that he's unaccounted for."

"Same," Choe growled. Who knows what he's up to?

Rachel chewed her lip. "We don't have much of a choice. Let's stick with the plan for now. We'll keep an eye out for him at the prom." She nodded to Warren's car. "C'mon. If we leave now we'll be fashionably late by—"

"Uh," Chloe began, "can I grab a minute with Max here? I'll be quick."

Rachel hesitated, eyeing them both, then relented when Chloe gave her a beseeching look. She took Warren by the arm and led him to the curb. "So this car of yours looks bitchin'. I've never seen it before."

"Oh! Uh, it's actually my brother's. He visits every weekend..."

As they left, Chloe turned to Max, who was watching her curiously. "A'ight," Chloe said, "just between you and me, his car looks like the kind mob guys get shot in."

Max giggled. "Don't be mean, Chloe. So, what's up?"

"Er, nothing really. I, uh—" Chloe dug a hand into her coat pocket, panicked for a moment when she couldn't find it. Then her fingers closed around it and her chest loosened. "I wanted to give you your third birthday present." She held out her palm to Max.

Max stared down, uncomprehending, at the ring in Chloe's hand, then her eyes filled with recognition. "That's the same one Rachel has!"

"Yeah, I made two of them. I'm giving one to each of you, 'coz—" Chloe shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Look, just take it, okay?"

Max picked it up and held it to the light. It was a simple steel ring with a little bump on one side. To Chloe, it looked unlovely, like something that belonged in a car engine, not on a pretty girl's finger.

But Max said, "Chloe, this is so cool. Thank you."

Her words made Chloe feel three inches taller. Max always appreciated Chloe's gifts; in that regard, she never changed. "Waitaminute, I haven't shown you the trick to it. Hold on to it firmly. Yeah, like that."

As Max raised the ring, Chloe pushed the tip of her finger against the lump at the top. "There's a catch here, see? If you press down on it like this..." Chloe did so, and a tiny hook-shaped blade folded out of the lump. Max's lips parted in surprise.

"If you ever find yourself in a situation with your hands tied up, this blade'll help you cut through the bindings. Remember, it's razor-sharp, so be careful you don't hurt yourself."

"Chloe...wow. You really made this?"

"That's what I said."

"It's even better than the secret decoder rings we had when we were kids!" Max slipped it on her finger. "And it fits perfectly!"

Chloe shrugged and scratched her cheek. "I still have one of your rings from way back, the one you left in my room. I used it as a template. Lucky you didn't get fat since we were kids. Hey." She caught Max's gaze. "Always keep it on you, okay? In case you get in trouble."

Max enclosed the hand with the ring with her other hand. "I will, I promise. Your birthday gifts keep getting awesomer, Chloe. And yes, I feel safer. Thank you."

As the heat rose to her face, Chloe couldn't hide her own trembling smile. Now that Max was wearing her ring, it now felt like she laid some kind of claim on her. Suck on that, Warren. Especially later when you go back home alone to your basement.

"Yeah, yeah that's good." Chloe shuffled in place, eyes wandering up the street. "You, uh, look great by the way. Digging the haircut."

"T-thanks. It was Rachel's idea. I just sat there, really."

"Heh. Yeah. So...we should probably get going?"

"Yeah. Let's."

As they walked side-by-side to where Rachel and Warren were waiting by the car, Chloe hoped the rest of their night out together would turn out as smoothly.

They briefly swung by Jefferson's house on the way to Blackwell to check if he was home. The lights were on, but since the garage door was shut and they could see no movement at the windows, there was no way to check that he was home. Rather than risk getting spotted, they drove on to school.

Even from the parking lot, they could already hear the music blasting from the back of the school. Cones of light slanted towards the night sky, blotting out stars. The party had begun in earnest.

Rachel curled her hand around Chloe's arm as they took the lamplit path towards the open doors of the gym. "Ready?"

Chloe squeezed her hand. "You know it." She glanced over her shoulder to see that Max had taken Warren's offered arm. Warren was yammering something about his WoW character and Max was listening like it was the most interesting thing in the world. So they had stuff in common.

Chloe wanted nothing more than scrape that smile off his face using the pavement. She kicked a low hanging balloon out of the way and let Rachel lead her into the entrance hall.

"Rachel! Chloe! You made it!" As they entered, a statuesque girl with auburn hair, hoop earrings, and a little black dress stood up from behind the blue-clothed registration table.

"Hi, Dana!" Rachel disengaged her arm from Chloe's to accept a hug. Chloe raised a half-hearted hand in greeting. She threw Max a questioning glance and jerked her head towards Dana. Max smiled and nodded—yep, she knew her.

"Dana, this is Max," Rachel was saying. "She's attending the seniors' program next school year."

"Cool!" Dana gave Max a friendly wave. "I see you got acquainted with our resident Einstein. Heya, Warr."

"'Sup, Dana!"

Chloe had mostly tuned them out. She craned her neck to stare into the dark cavern of the gym entrance, hoping to glimpse either Jefferson or Nathan amidst the whirling, strobing lights. No such luck, though.

"Is Juliet here?" Rachel asked.

"Yep, she said she'd wait for you inside." Dana clapped her hands together. "You guys, there's a Vortex afterparty later at Nathan's place! It's supposed to be exclusive, but I bet I can get them to let you in. We'll roll out of here as a group at around 11-ish. You guys should totally come!"

Rachel glanced at Chloe. "Thanks, Dana, but..."

"We got plans," Chloe finished.

"Exactly." Rachel gave her a conspirational smile. "But if we can tear you away from the Vortex, you're invited to our own little get-together. If you're interested, I'll text you the deets later. We'll head on in now. Gotta talk to Jules."

"Okay! I'll head in after I close up here. See ya!"

The gym was packed with bodies half-smothered in darkness, undulating to the beat shrieking from the speakers. Only the rock band onstage was well lit. The stage was decorated with suspended disco balls and glittering cellophane that hung from floor to ceiling. The band was dressed all in white, the blonde lead singer-slash-bass-player dancing around in her sequined gown and looking like she'd just discovered Stevie Nicks. The air rippled with the heavy thud of drums and bass.

Chloe hated being back here and this prom reminded her why. Blackwell was a shithole filled to bursting with boring, stuck-up twats who had no reason to live except to spend their parents' money as quickly as possible. It pained her that Blackwell still had its hooks in Rachel, or that Max would be coming to school here in two months' time. She couldn't wait until they finally put this place in the rearview mirror where it belonged.

She looked over to Max and shouted over the din, "You sure you wanna go to Blackhell?"

Max shrugged, gave her a helpless grin. "It's got its upsides, Chloe." She and Warren were trailing after them like a pair of ducklings. Yeah, neither looked like they belonged here.

"Lead singer's got me sprung, brah," someone yelled in Chloe's ear. "Check out those legs."

"This prom sucks ass," his friend yelled back. "Can't wait for the afterparty at Nathan's."

Nathan. Where's that sack of shit at? Chloe peered through the throng whirling around her, but he was nowhere to be found.

Rachel, however, quickly spotted someone of interest. "Jules!" she shouted.

They wove through a cluster of giggling girls to find Juliet, wearing a cherry-pink gown, drink in hand, hanging off Zachary Riggin's arm, and both looking bored shitless. But Juliet's eyes lit up when she spotted their group. "You're here! Great!"

Rachel gave her a hug. "Is Quasimodo—?"

"Not here, too loud. Let's talk outside." She nodded to her jock boyfriend. "Babe, give us a minute, okay? Girl talk."

With Juliet in the lead, the five of them made their way through the busy dance floor to one of the fire escapes across the hall. The doors were ajar, so they opened them fully and let themselves out. The noise was reduced to the low thumping of bass. Chloe breathed in a lungful of the cleansing night air.

Juliet spun towards them, perfectly-drawn eyebrows knitting together. "Don't worry about Quasi. He's over there in the corner with some other Vortex members." She nodded past the open doorway. "Er, Hayden's keeping an eye on him."

Turning, Chloe spotted Nathan in an expensive tux, lounging on a bench next to a pretty girl she didn't recognize, who was busy tapping away at her phone. Hayden stood in front of them, yammering away while wildly flapping his arms.

"But who's keeping an eye on Hayden?" grumbled Max.

Chloe snickered. "Ten bucks says he's already high."

"No one's gonna take you up on that bet," Warren muttered.

Rachel turned back to Juliet. "So, no sign of Frollo?"

"Neither hide nor hair. And that interview, I never wanna see him again. God knows I might blow chunks in his face." Juliet shook her head. "Jeezus, guys. What a mess. We got a total psycho stalking us in Blackwell. I could use a fuckin' smoke."

"I got us covered," Rachel replied. She opened up her purse and retrieved her metal cigarette case, but Chloe grabbed her wrist. "Faculty alert," she said from the corner of her mouth.

They wheeled to face Ms. Grant, who was marching towards them from the gym entrance. "Oh shit, did she see?" Rachel pulled her hands behind her back as their teacher closed the distance.

"Well well, good evening ladies," Ms. Grant said, her teeth taking a bluish tinge beneath the neon lights. "Enjoying yourselves out here?"

"Oh, yeah, it's totally banging, Ms. Grant," Juliet answered, hurling a glance at Rachel.

Rachel flashed a smile. "Yup, we just wanted a break for fresh air."

"Glad to see some new faces here." She nodded to Max before turning to Chloe. "And good to see some familiar ones too."

"Yo, Ms. Grant. What's good? Bring a date?"

"No, I didn't, thanks for asking. And I'll tell you what could be good: if everyone present could keep to the rules of our school, whether they go here or not." Ms. Grant squinted at them. "That means no smoking anywhere on campus. Especially not prohibited substances."

"Ah, we weren't doing anything like that," Rachel began.

"Good. Then you won't mind if you show me the contents of your purses, would you kindly?"

Chloe was about to protest, say something about privacy and such, but Max, goody-goody that she is, had already stepped forward with her bag held open. Ms. Grant gave it a cursory inspection before turning to the rest, eyebrows raised.

"Do I look like a girl who carries a purse?" Chloe offered as a distraction.

"Your pockets then, if you please."

"Fine, fine." She turned her coat pockets inside out. "See? Clean as my bank account."

"And we are too," Rachel's voice held no trace of affront as she and Juliet showed their open purses. Only Rachel did it with her right hand. From the corner of her eye, Chloe saw that she held her left hand behind her back, offering her cigarette case for someone to take. Before Chloe could do so, Max quickly took it and slipped it into her own purse.

What the fuck, Max?

"Alright, thank you." Ms. Grant didn't seem at all satisfied as she eyed their group again. Must have been some instinct of hers that could sniff out trouble. "Now, this fire escape needs to stay closed. Please come inside now, all of you."

"Of course, Ms. Grant." Rachel tugged on Chloe's arm. "C'mon, guys. Let's go get something to drink." They regrouped beside the table where a waiter was serving punch from a bowl.

"So," Warren said. "Guess Jefferson didn't bother to show up tonight."

"I'm actually kinda glad for it," Max averred.

"I'm not," Chloe swigged her entire cup down and plunked it in front of the waiter for another. "What if he's lurking around here somewhere? And what about Nathan?"

Rachel nodded, throwing a glance to where Nathan was still slouched against the bleachers, surrounded by his Vortex cronies. "But if it's true that Jefferson isn't here, then he might not make a move tonight. Which means we can operate freely."

"Tch." Chloe stuck her hands in her pockets. "Feels like a waste. Can't we just off Nathan right now?"

"We're not the mafia."

"No, we're pirates. We make our own rules."

"Ms. Grant's still got her eye on us," Max pointed out.

"Let's lose her then." Grinning, Rachel tugged on Chloe's hand while herding Max and Warren towards the dance floor.

"Um," Max looked about as they were led towards the mass of twisting bodies. "What's happening?"

"We're going along with the plan," Rachel replied, rolling her head as the beat took hold of her. "We came here so that people would see us. And they will."

Taking another swig from the punch he'd liberally spiked with vodka, Nathan gazed across the gym to where the lights flitted and strobed on the dance floor. Despite the writhing wall of teens, he still glimpsed the red flash of Rachel's body as she danced through the crowd—again in someone else's arms. The drink soured in his mouth. If he had a grenade right now, he'd pull the pin and fling it into—

His phone buzzed. Glowering, he fished it out and glanced at the message onscreen.

Unknown Number: Get into position.

Nathan took a deep breath, held it in for a second, then let it out. "Gotta take a leak," he said to no one in particular as he stood up.

"Oh, uh, sure man," Hayden said, interrupting his own inane story. "See ya in a bit."

Without even a glance his way, Nathan headed towards a nearby door that led backstage.

Showtime.