* Saturday, October 12th, 9 am, After the Funeral *

Max wakes with a start and a start. That is, she wakes from her dream abruptly, in pain. It fades fast, as all dreams do. Or natural ones, in any case. She also wakes to begin the Saturday of this week, the first Saturday she's had in weeks.

The pain of the dream, though, doesn't fade with the memory. Why's my back in so much pain? Wait, where- My couch. I slept on my couch.

Her bed is made up much more precisely than usual. Victoria. She must have already woken and left. Of course her military-OCD precision would require her to fix the bed. Immediately regretting the negativity of that thought. We stayed up past three. The talk was... good. I needed to talk to someone. It helped. Vicky listens almost as well as she talks.

A snicker. She had to get the blonde back last night for slipping up and calling her Maxine. So Victoria became Vicky. By the end of the night, though, neither had any animosity for the other girl calling her the "wrong" name. It was just enough snark to keep the girls in that safe zone. No longer enemies but only kinda friendly. Close enough to sympathize but far enough that the momentary gaps in armor can be dismissed without offense.

It was the same way with last night's conversation. Anything and everything except the last week. College and careers. Movies and books. Cute boys (and a few girls). Very few but surprisingly earnest laughs. And, of course, tears.

Why can't I stop crying? I'm really hating acting like a cliché girl.

Even the thought brings more water to her eyes. Probably why she misses the loose-leaf note tacked to the bottom of her selfie collage. Precise but flowing script. Yup, that's Vicky.

Getting coffee. Back soon.

- Victoria

The emphasizing lines under her signature brings about another snicker. Maybe I'll keep at this Vicky nonsense a bit longer.

But nicknames are- were Chloe's job. Knees weaken. Again with the damn tears. I'll dehydrate if I keep this up. Need to drink a pool worth of water. Otter in my water...

When Victoria enters 20 minutes later, Max's eyes are red but dry. One look is all Victoria needs.

'Yeah, not even going to bother with the whole "how you feeling" thing.' The tray she leaves on the desk promises the sweet nectar of the morning gods. 'Didn't know how you take it. Got the sugar and creamer on the side.'

Black, for future reference. 'Thanks, Vic.'

A sigh, as she sits with her own cup. 'Well, that's marginally better than Vicky.' A sip and a contented smiles plays across her face. 'I can't understand how I ever lived before coffee.'

'Oh my dog, I know! Sometimes it feels like the only thing to live for when I wake up.'

The pause in the banter writes a book.

'So, uh, Max. What are your plans for today?'

Tentative gestures show Max's tension. 'Nothing, really. I just- I just don't know what to do.'

Another unspoken conversation.

A deep breath underscores Victoria's response. 'Okay, let's get this out in the open. We're not friends. Not right now. But... but I don't hate you or anything. Last night was good. I'd like to do it again. And I'd like for us to really be friends.' The look of her face perfectly showcases a moment of self-disgust. 'I sound like a jock after a one night stand.'

That bring true laughter to Max. I can laugh after only a day. 'I know what you mean, Victoria. We aren't friends. But we don't have to be at each other's throats any more. You're a... good rival.'

Crestfallen, now. 'I don't want to be rivals.'

The brunette immediately continues. ' No! No, not like, like enemies. We just, we're from different circles. Different friends, different families. But we both are, well, photographers, I guess. We are going to compete. We want a lot of the same things. We just go at it in different ways. It's like sports, I think. We can compete and yell and get all emotional but, after the game, we still shake hands.' Max's turn to display her emotions. This one: confusion. 'I don't know if I'm even making sense.'

Victoria raises a palm. 'No, I get you. We won't be girlfriends day-tripping to the mall. But maybe I can share my portfolio, get some insight.' It doesn't sound like a question but the slight vulnerability has Max take it that way.

Yeah, sure. 'Yeah, sure. We'll swap techniques.'

Victoria's smile, the small one with her lips firmly shut, makes itself known. Max had learned this was her real smile. Victoria with bared teeth should be treated the same way as a wolf.

'So, Max, since we know you're not a mall-goer, same question as before. Plans?'

'Still no. But I am going to try talking with Kate. She- she's dealing with the worst out of all of us.'

'So, a plan. Go shower, I'll see if Katie's home.'

* Saturday, October 12th, 9 am, After the Storm *

Max wakes slowly, gritty-eyed. Her first thoughts are of rain and pain. The dream storm visited her again last night. As sharp as ever, losing none of the impact, the way some nightmares are want to do. Or unnatural ones, in any case.

The pain in her back from the flatbed of the truck, on the ither hand, is easier to get rid of. Brief but intense stretching loosens up the tightness.

I need a real bed sometime soon. I wonder if their are any left in town.

A few unbidden tears come to her eyes. Others will need them more. If there's anyone-

A quick stomp on that train of thought, before she starts bawling again. Oh, dog. When did I turn all cliché weepy damsel?

She quickly turns to the person best able to ground her, the lightening rod for her thunderstorm. The slightly unfocused blue blob of the back of Chloe's head is the only part of her visible from the cocoon of blankets she stole during the night. No wonder I'm cold. Time to wake her. Time to face the... the everything.

True, they had a late night. After finding a 24/7 gas station to load up on food, their luck quickly ran out when there were no motels close by. Exhausted, they actually drove a few more miles from Arcadia Bay, a semi-local, semi-highway route, until they found a closed park. A couple hundred yards past the "Do Not Enter" sufficiently shielded them from passing cars, and the blankets in the truck turned into quite the uncomfortable bed.

They stayed up much of the night, not talking except to ask if the other was awake. Just lying on their backs, staring at stars.

I shoulda known she was going to steal the covers when she let go of my hand. Well, my turn now.

A few sharp pokes in her lower back is enough to start rousing Chloe. But only the magic word is enough to really wake up the bluenette.

'Bacon...'

Abruptly sitting up, Chloe almost knocks heads with the younger girl. Lucky. I should be awarded "Best Alarm Clock Ever" for that.

'Caufield, if you're just taunting me there will be hell to pay.' The yawn punctuating the statement belies the threat.

No award, then. 'Nope. It's more of a promise. A promise of bacon and coffee if our driver can get her butt in gear.'

'Okay, sure. Just gimme a few minutes to get over you breaking my heart. A girl can only take so much, you know.'

A snicker and a skoff. A snoff? Kinda like that. 'Oh, shut up. You love me. Like you wouldn't forgive me.'

Crap!

'Yeah, that didn't get awkward Maxaroni.' A flick and a deep drag of a cigarette. 'So let's clear this up. You and I, we're it. We're together forever. Pirate pals, superhero and sidekick. We're going to take this world by st- by force.' Another drag, trying to hide her misstep. 'But we are going to get nowhere if we tiptoe around stuff. All the crap is in the past. Let's try to keep the worst of it there. So, new rule, firstmate. When we say or do something like, well, like what made your face turn into a tomato, we acknowledge it and move on. Savvy?'

'Savvy.' Wait. 'Wait, why am I the firstmate?'

'Because. You may be Super-Max, but I'm still the pirate queen.'

'Your logic is unflappable.'

'Avast, you landlubber. Get in the truck. Time to shove off and make for ports unknown.'

The silence that settles in the truck is a complacent one. The kind you build over years of trust. But Max is annoyed by it, all the same. Why am I having trouble talking? So much to say. About Arcadia. About J-Joyce, and David, and all the crap Chloe missed this week. Instead, she plays with the vent and tries to find some indie rock in Chloe's CD collection. 'You know, they invented these cool little devices that can hold, gasp, thousands of songs at once.'

The narrowed eyes don't quite match the inflection of her voice. 'Did you just say "gasp"?' A final pull of the cigarette before tossing it and rolling up the window. 'This old machine can't connect to an iPod. Besides, there's something, I don't know, purer, listening to a CD.'

'Am I'm the hipster?'

'Shuddap, dork.'

'Dweeb.'

'You can be really bitchy in the morning.'

'That's why coffee is so high up on the to-do list.'

Silence reigns once again. Time passes, doing what it does. Well, unless I'm around.

'You do know where we're going, right?'

'It was dark last night. Gimme a break. I just gotta backtrack to the highway and we'll be home.'

The silence changes.

'Just give me your phone. I'll see if I can find directions.'

'I don't have internet on it. Why not use your own?'

'Got kinda trashed yesterday. In the- in the rain.'

'Great.'

Time starts to sour.

'Great! I can't find the damn highway because everything looks hella different at night and I was hella tired. Now we're going to be driving in circles until we run outta gas!'

'Chlo...'

'WHAT?'

Snap.

She's gotta stop. I know what's wrong, but she's gotta say it.

Chloe's knuckles death-grip the steering wheel. All Max can really see is her profile, maybe something in her eye. They are sitting at the stop sign for minutes as Chloe tries to decide between left or right.

The brunette inhales, trying to gather the courage right out of the air. 'Look, Chloe, I know what's wrong. You've been focused on me. Saving me. I love you for it. But we don't know what is... left. Or who.'

A lull in the conversation. Perfect timing for Chloe to step in. But she remains silent.

'Talk to me. You just ruled that we need to acknowledge these moments. So do it.' Still as stone. 'Come on Chloe! I know your scared about Jo-'

'Don't say it!' Flick and drag. 'Yeah, stupid rule. So, new one. I need air.' The truck door almost rebounds back through Chloe as she kicks it open. 'Here.' A small box lands in Max's lap. 'Call your m-mom. I need... I need to think.'