November 28, 2013
Caulfield Residence
Seattle, Washington

I can't do this. It's too much. Human beings weren't made to deal with this much stress.

Swallowing heavily, I try not to think about the fact that my palms are sweating. I always thought that was a figure of speech, but they're actually sweating. I can feel the panic growing, threatening to overwhelm me as I try not to think about the weight of the eyes staring at me. I know I'm breathing faster than I should be, but I'm afraid that it'll be even more noticeable if I try to slow it down.

What if I start hyperventilating, though? Would I pass out? I don't want to pass out. If I pass out then I'll have to explain why I passed out, and it'll be so much worse because I'll have turned this into a way bigger thing than the big thing it already is! Max, don't you dare pass out!

"Max? Are you alright?"

"Fine," I croak, wincing at the way my voice sounds. Clearing my throat, I try again. "I'm fine. Just thinking."

"Really? It's not exactly a skill-testing question."

What's that loud thumping? Is that my heart? Should it sound like that? Oh God, am I going to have a heart attack?

"How about I go instead?" Chloe's voice heads off my fatalistic train of thought, and I'm certain that there's no way the look on my face could fully express the level of gratitude I'm feeling. "That'll give Max a minute to think about it."

Nodding, I sink back into my chair and happily let Chloe be the center of attention.

"Alright, let me see...what am I thankful for?" She strokes her chin thoughtfully. "Oh, I know! I'm thankful for that feeling you get when someone finally scratches a really annoying itch you've had right in that spot in the middle of your back that you haven't been able to reach, like, all day."

"That's actually pretty good." Dad pulls his eyes off the large turkey to give Chloe an impressed nod, then turns to Mom. "Is it too late to change my answer?"

"After telling your family, at Thanksgiving dinner, that the thing you're most thankful for is the Seattle Seahawks?" She laughs, rolling her eyes. "Sure. Why not?"

"I'm also...uh..." Chloe stumbles when everyone's attention returns to her. "I just wanted to say that I'm actually hella thankful for you guys letting me live here after...you know...everything."

"Hella?" Dad whispers, and I shush him.

"You guys gave me a home when I had literally nowhere else to go, even though you didn't have to," she continues, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. "I mean, I'm over eighteen. You could've just told me to hit the road, but you took care of me. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you for that."

"Oh, Chloe. We'd never ask you to repay us." Mom smiles and Dad nods his agreement. "As far as we're concerned, you're a part of this family."

Chloe blinks, stunned. "I...I am?"

"Of course you are, sweetheart."

"O-oh. I didn't really..." She looks down at the table, blinking rapidly in an attempt to hold back tears. "That's really...wow."

"Well said," Dad teases lightly.

I lean over to wrap an arm around her shoulders, whispering, "You okay?"

Chloe offers me a little smile, her eyes shining. "Yeah, I...uh...I just need a sec."

Looking up at Mom, I give her a playful scowl. "Mom! You broke my Chloe!"

"I'm sure she'll be fine," she says, the wry humor in her voice at odds with the emotion in her eyes.

Naturally, Dad picks that moment to clear his throat and turn to me. "Well, Max, that's going to be a tough act to follow, but you're up."

My mouth goes dry again and the panic comes roaring back to the front of my mind. "I am?"

"There's no escaping the Thanksgiving firing squad," he says, grinning like the great big jerk he is. "What are you thankful for?"

"Heh. Right. Um...I'm thankful for...uh...for..." I'm stammering already. That's not good.

Alright. This is it. Moment of truth. You can do this.

I turn to look at Chloe. She gently squeezes my hand under the table and offers me an encouraging smile.

C'mon. I've traveled through time and saved Chloe from certain death. Next to that, coming out to my parents should be a piece of cake, right?

I take a slow breath, then another. I pull the air deep into my lungs, hoping the action will help me calm down.

Since Halloween, Chloe and I have found it a little challenging to enjoy our budding relationship. Mostly because I, Maxine Angela Caulfield, am a gigantic chickenshit who's freaked out by the very idea of coming out to her parents and totally doesn't deserve such an awesome girlfriend like Chloe Price.

That's why we've been doing just about everything we can to keep it a secret from my parents, which hasn't been easy considering how hard we've both found it to keep our hands of each other. It's like I'm hyperaware of everything she does, and I'd lost track of how many times I've had to force myself to stop staring at her lips. Anytime we're on our own, it's pretty much guaranteed that we'll end up making out. It's led to more than a few close calls, let me tell you.

I'm completely crazy about her, and she's been nothing but supportive and patient. She hasn't pressured me in the slightest or made me feel guilty for the way I felt. She's basically been the perfect girlfriend in practically every way, and it make me feel even more like a great big chickenshit.

I don't know why I feel the way I do. Logically, I know I have almost zero reason to be worried at all. Mom and Dad are as liberal as it comes, and the idea that they'd react badly to their daughter being a lesbian was crazy. Especially considering they were already perfectly aware that Chloe is gay. She'd come out to Joyce when she was sixteen, held no reservations at all about her own sexuality, and after Mom and Dad found out they hadn't shown the slightest bit of discomfort about it.

That said, I don't feel like my anxiousness is completely unjustified. Not only would I be telling my parents that I'm gay, but I'd also be revealing that Chloe and I have been in a secret relationship for almost a month. And I could pretty much guarantee that any follow-up questions would eventually lead to the fact that the two of us have been sharing a bed for even longer than that - even if the first month and a half had been entirely sorta-platonic.

It was that same point, though, that forced me to acknowledge that the longer we kept things a secret, the worse it would be when we finally came clean. I'd said as much to Chloe, and we'd decided to treat the whole situation like a band-aid; just rip it off in one go.

Now, sitting there with my parents looking at me expectantly, I suddenly have a whole new appreciation for the phrase 'easier said than done'.

"I, uh..." I take a drink of water to stall for time.

"I hate to pressure you, sweetheart," Dad laughs. "But you and I both know your mother isn't going to let us eat anything unti-"

"I'm gay and I'm thankful for my beautiful, awesome, super-supportive girlfriend!" I shout, startling him. Squeezing my eyes shut, I turn to bury my face in Chloe's shoulder and wait for the inevitable explosion.

"Well, how about that, Ryan?" Mom says after a brief, surprised pause. She sounds disappointed and I feel an icy stab of fear. "Max is thankful for her girlfriend. Not a football team."

Cautiously cracking one eye open, I look to my father for his reaction. Rather than the frown I'd been dreading, he's looking back at me with a mildly sheepish smile. "Geez, kiddo. Way to throw your old man under the bus."

"Y-you guys aren't upset?" I hesitantly sit upright, glancing between them. "That I'm...y'know...gay?"

"Of course we aren't, sweetheart." Dad's voice is steady and reassuring and exactly what I need right now. "Why would we be?"

"See?" Smiling, Chloe leans over to kiss me on the head. I think I'm probably the only one near enough to hear the relieved tremor in her voice. "Didn't I tell you they'd be cool?"

"O-okay..." I nod, feeling my heart rate slowly come back down from the triple digits.

"We love you, Max, no matter what. You never have to worry about telling us stuff like this." Mom smiles and reaches out to gently take my hand. "Though next time, maybe not quite so loudly."

My cheeks heat up and I laugh nervously. "Sorry. I guess that was probably kind of a surprise."

"Little bit," Dad nods.

"A double surprise," Chloe snickers. "It was, like, coming out squared."

"Oh, we weren't surprised by that part," Mom comments, casually sipping her wine like she hasn't just started spouting crazy talk.

"W-what?"

"We figured it out on our own a while ago, sweetheart."

"You did?" I'm not sure how the could have. I'd been so sure that our romantic subterfuge had worked. "But...how?"

"It wasn't very hard." Mom shrugs. "Personally, I started to suspect something was going on when Chloe's underwear started turning up in your laundry basket."

"They what?" I turn to glare at my newly-revealed girlfriend.

Chloe won't meet my eyes and looks like she's trying to hide behind her water glass. Under any other circumstances, I'd think it was cute as hell. "I didn't think she'd notice."

"Unfortunately for you two, she did," Dad comments, smiling at us. It's the same smile he wears every April Fool's Day. I hate that smile. "But do you want to know what tipped me off?"

"What was that, dear?" Mom replies with false curiosity.

"What tipped me off," he repeats. "Was when we spotted the two of you at the mall a couple of weeks ago, making out in the food court."

"Wha-gck!" Chloe's attempt to talk and drink at the same time doesn't go well. As she tries to cough up the mouthful of water she managed to inhale, I use rubbing her back as an opportunity to hide my own furiously blushing face.

"Yeah. I hate to break it to you," he chuckles, gesturing between us. "But you two really sucked at the whole 'secret relationship' thing."

My face feels like it's practically on fire now as my (apparently more perceptive than I thought) parents start laughing. Though Chloe is still coughing a little, I try to laugh along with them. "Okay...alright...t-that's cool. Super funny, you guys."

"It really was," Dad admits, still chuckling.

"Yeah. But it's all out in the open now, right?" I add, hopefully. "We've all had a good laugh, so what do you say we talk about literally anyth-"

"Not so fast, young lady," Mom interrupts, her expression turning serious. "There's something else we need to talk about."

I actually feel my body go rigid. "There is?"

It's fine. The worst part is over, right? How bad could it be?

"Yes." She leans forward, placing her elbows on the table. "There is."

"O-okay." Chloe and I share a nervous glance. She takes my hand again. "What's that?"

"Well, as happy as we are that the two of you finally decided to be honest with us, there was still almost three months where you weren't." Mom gives us an amused look that, for some reason, makes me very, very nervous. "Or did you really think we wouldn't notice that the bed in 'Chloe's room' wasn't being used?"

[17 Nov, 2013]

Vanessa: Max and Chloe think they're so sneaky. It's adorable.

Ryan: What did they do this time?

Vanessa: They must have fallen asleep watching a movie. I got home and they were curled up together on the couch.

Ryan: That's not so bad.

Vanessa: That's not the good part. I was trying to sneak by when Chloe woke up, but she must not have realized I was there. She just kissed Max on the forehead, whispered 'sweet dreams', and went right back to sleep.

Ryan: Wow.

Ryan: They must think we're really stupid.

Oh god, I'm so embarrassed. That was torture. That was a two-hour nightmare.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Lifting my face from the pillow I've been hiding in, I look over to find Chloe regarding me curiously from her usual perch on the bedroom windowsill. Lifting a cigarette to her lips, she takes a long drag and then leans toward the slightly open window to blow the smoke out into the night.

"That was hell, Chloe," I say slowly, as though this actually has to be explained. "That was literal hell, served with gravy and stuffing."

"Well, first of all, your mom's gravy is basically the exact opposite of hell," Chloe laughs, finishing off her cigarette, she drops the butt into the old tomato soup can she keeps outside the window. Retrieving the pack from her pocket, she pulls out another and lights it in a single smooth action. "And second, that went really, really well."

"What? I just spent two straight hours being mocked over Thanksgiving dinner!"

"Teased, babe. By your parents, who love you."

"Whatever," Groaning, I drop my face back into the pillow. "Worst dinner ever."

Chloe doesn't respond right away, and for a second I hope she's let the subject drop.

"Alright, eyes up for a second," she finally says, and I look up to find the wry amusement gone from her face. "You need a little real-talk. I thought you were just being dramatic, but now I'm starting to think you actually don't get how lucky you are."

A small part of me wants to correct her on that, but I restrain myself. "Lucky?"

"Super lucky. Not only do you have parents that accept you, but those parents are actually allowing the sexy live-in girlfriend that you tried to hide from them to continue to be your sexy live-in girlfriend." She snorts. "I mean, on the 'coming-out-to-your-parents' scale, that's about as close to the top as you're gonna get."

"Was the 'sexy' addition necessary?" I ask, adding. "Not that I'm arguing."

"Extremely necessary," she nods. "Look, I didn't tell you this before because I didn't want to make you nervous, but my mom didn't react very well when I first came out to her."

I take a second to absorb this; it's pretty much the opposite of what she's always told me. "But...you said she was supportive from the start."

"Not quite from the start," she admits, taking another long drag on her cigarette. "Honestly, she kinda freaked out a little, which didn't mesh well with how freaked out I already was."

"You were?"

"Hell yeah!" she nods, emphatically. "I'd heard all the horror stories. Kids whose parents hated them for being gay or got kicked out of their homes. Part of me was scared she'd send me to one of those fucking conversion camps so a bunch of religious nutbars could 'beat the sin out of me' or some shit."

"She'd never..." I don't know what to say. That doesn't sound like the Joyce I knew at all.

"I know, I know. I was being totally crazy. My point is that I was already pretty keyed up, and considering the conversation started by accident..."

"Wait, you came out to your mom by accident?" I don't mean to laugh. I really don't, but it's such a ridiculous thing to happen that I just can't help it.

"Hey, who's telling this story?"

"Right. Carry on."

"Anyway, I'd had this whole plan about how to do it right. I was going to talk to mom when the step-douche wasn't around, and Rachel..."

I manage to avoid flinching at the girl's name. Of course she'd be part of this story; she'd been Chloe's girlfriend back then. But that doesn't change the fact that, even after everything, I sometimes still feel like I'm being held up against the 'Rachel Amber' benchmark.

"...said she would be there so she could do the whole supportive girlfriend thing." Chloe continues, hopefully unaware of my irrational jealousy. "Well, that had been the plan. I forget whether it was Mom or David who brought it up, but we were having dinner and one of them made some comment about how Rachel and I were spending a lot of our time together."

Uh-oh. I think I know where this is going.

"And I, with all my natural subtlety, responded with something along the lines of 'I'll spend as much time with my girlfriend as I want'."

"How many 'fucks' are you editing out of that sentence?"

"At least two. And between Mom's shock, David's temper, and my usual grace under pressure..." She mimes an explosion with her hands. "We got into a huge fight in the middle of dinner and I ended up taking off into the pouring rain, minus a jacket. Then I head to Rachel's place, having somehow forgotten that her family was on vacation that whole week. Now I'm stuck standing in the rain like an idiot. I had no clue where Frank's RV was, I was too proud to go to anyone else, and I hadn't quite reached my 'breaking into Blackwell for the lols' phase yet."

"Yikes."

"Yeah, it pretty much sucked," she nods. "So, I'm walking down the sidewalk when this car comes up with its high beams on, horn blaring away. It pulls right up behind me, and I'm so amped up that I just start yelling and swearing before I've even gotten a good look at it."

"Really? I have a hard time picturing that."

"Oh, bite me," she laughs, playfully flipping me the bird. "Anyway, I'll give you three guesses who was driving."

"It was Joyce, wasn't it?"

"Got it in one, Maximus. And she had me in this bone-crusher of a hug so fast that I don't think she heard a word I said." Chloe pulls another cigarette from the pack, lighting it with the still-glowing tip of the one she's just finished. "Which is a damn shame because I really brought my A-game for that one. I'm telling you, some of the shit I was saying would've turned a sailor to dus-"

"Chloe?" I interrupt gently. "Focus."

"Right. Anyway, she's crying and apologizing like crazy. Turns out she'd been driving around looking for me pretty much since I'd left. Just grabbed David's keys and took off to rescue me. Didn't even ask him first."

I can't help but grin at the mental image. That sounds like the Joyce Price I knew, and it's pretty great to see Chloe talking about her with a smile. They might have had their differences, especially at the end, but I know how much she misses her mom.

"Then she told me that it took her about five seconds after I ran off to realize that I was more important to her than anything and that she loved me no matter what. From then on, she was chill as fuck about it."

"I'm glad, but..."

"What does that have to do with tonight?"

I nod.

"Thinking about how that night went for me always reminds me that I was pretty lucky, and that you are too, and that not everyone is. I mean, there's places where being together could straight up get us killed, and you're freaking out because your parents were teasing us over dinner?"

I cringe. "When you put it like that, I do kinda sound..."

"Like a big ol' drama queen?" she finished, smirking.

I roll my eyes; it's a pretty fair description. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Happens to the best of us, Max." She leans against the window frame, blowing another cloud of blueish smoke outside. "I should know."

"Geez. I suddenly feel like such a sheltered middle-class white girl."

"To be fair, you are a sheltered middle-class white girl," she points out, smirking. "But for the record, I'll put up with whatever your mom and dad can dish out and more if it means I can be with you."

My heart melts a little. It's always a nice surprise when Chloe gives me a glimpse of her romantic side. "Good thing, too, because you're pretty much stuck with me."

Chloe winks, and the two of us lapse into a comfortable silence as she turns to stare out the window. Leaning back against the wall, I very briefly wish I could take a picture of her. Instead, I try to commit the sight to memory; Chloe's casually slouched posture, the layered colors of her hair, and even the way the bedside lamp's light falls on her smooth, pale skin.

Well, not entirely pale. My eyes are drawn to the slightly yellowed skin of her right-hand fingers, currently holding her latest cigarette. I wonder if she's planning to have another after this one?

Of all the things that had surprised me about the 'new' Chloe, the smoking had probably been the most unexpected. The version of her I'd known growing up would have never touched a cigarette. She hadn't even been able to stand the smell of them, complaining about it anytime Joyce had stepped outside to smoke. Since the two of us reconnected, though, that smell is just something I've come to associate with her. It's in her hair, on her breath, and permeates almost every piece of clothing she owns – even the new ones she's gotten since we came to Seattle.

That doesn't mean I like it, though. And while I don't have much pre-storm knowledge to go by, it does feel like she's been smoking more lately. It's something that's been on my mind for a while, and although I've been meaning to bring it up with her, the part of me that hates confrontations keeps pointing out to me how great things have been between us and begging me not to rock the boat.

But I'm pretty sure this is the fourth cigarette she'd had since dinner, and if there's one lesson I can take away from tonight it's that the longer you wait, the worse it gets. "Hey, Chloe? How many of those have you had today?"

The question seems to take her by surprise. "How many what?"

I point to the cigarette in her hand, already burnt halfway down.

"Oh." She shrugs. "Half a pack? Little more, maybe?"

"Is that a lot?"

Another shrug. "Depends on the person, I guess."

"Is that a lot for you, then? I mean, did you smoke this much before?"

Chloe's eyes narrow the tiniest bit. That's probably not a good sign. "Why?"

"I was just thinking that it seems like you're smoking a lot lately." I'm careful to keep my voice calm. I don't want her to think I'm trying to pick a fight. Even so, her relaxed slouch is gone, replaced by something a little stiffer and a lot more defensive.

"So what?"

I have a sudden feeling that I'm standing right at the point of no return. All I need to say is 'never mind', and that'll be it; no fuss, no unpleasantness, no trouble. I'm not too proud to admit that I want to. Like really, really want to. I've never really been one to intentionally start an argument, especially with someone I care about.

Nothing will change if I back off now, though, and it's because I care about her that I need to push ahead. "It feels like every time I look, there's a cigarette in your mouth."

"I'm fine, Max." Chloe is openly glaring at me now, and I can feel my palms start to sweat again.

Begone, Chickenshit Max! You have no power here!

Steeling my nerves, I mentally brace up. "Chloe, I think you ought to cut back your smoking."

"No, I don't," she responds evenly.

"Cigarettes are really bad for you."

"Oh, are they? Thanks, Ms. After-School-Special." Chloe rolls her eyes, lifting the cigarette to her lips and taking a defiant drag.

"Chloe, I..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Max! If I wanted someone to tell me how to live my life, I'd talk to my damn mothe-" Chloe slams to a halt, her mouth snapping shut with an audible click. We both look away. "Just drop it, okay?"

I was already kind of annoyed, but for some reason the fact that she thinks she can just shut me down really pisses me off. "I'm your girlfriend, Chloe. You don't get to tell me to shut up just because you don't like what I'm saying."

"What? I didn't."

"It kinda felt like you did." I pause, forcing the anger out of my voice. "I swear I'm not trying to pick a fight. But I am worried about you. So no, I'm not going to drop it."

"I'm a big girl, Max. I can take care of myself."

I refuse to point out the irony in that statement. "That doesn't mean I can't take care of you a little, too."

My point seems to catch her a little off guard. "Are you really planning to spend the rest of your life protecting me?"

"Of course I am." I'm almost offended that she thought otherwise.

"Why?"

Okay, now I actually am a little offended. "Because I love you, you dummy."

The snort of laughter that she lets out surprises us both, and the tension in the room begins to bleed away. "Damn, Max. Really feeling the romance over here."

"Oh, shush." I reach over to give her shoulder a gentle shove. "I do love you, though. And I don't want anything to happen to you."

She seems to take a moment with that, then rolls her eyes and gently kicks my shin. "Alright, fine."

"...fine?" I echo, not sure whether or not I should be confused.

"Fine," she says again. Pulling the pack from her pocket, she tosses both it and the rest of her unfinished cigarette into the old soup can, puts it outside and shuts the window. Walking over to the bed, she drops down next to me and leans her shoulder against mine. "No more cigarettes."

"What? Seriously?"

"Mhm," Chloe nods.

"After all that?"

"I've been meaning to quit, anyway." She gives me a little smirk. "I just don't like being told what to do."

"You don't..." It's such a ridiculously Chloe thing to say that I don't even try to hold in my laughter. "Oh my god, you're such a brat!"

"Guilty." She shrugs. "Besides, you probably didn't enjoy making out with an ashtray."

I wasn't exactly going to say that, but... "Not so much, no."

"I figured. Now, c'mere." She reaches out to pull me into a hug, "I love you, too."

I hum happily at the words, nuzzling closer.

"Even if you are a guilt-tripping jerk," Chloe adds, because she's Chloe and of course she does.

"I can live with that."

"Good." She presses a soft kiss into my hair. I love it when she does that. "Because you're pretty much stuck with me, too."

Max: Picking up pizza on the way home. What kind do you want?

Chloe: u know how i like it

Max: lol

Max: You bet I do, hot stuff. ;)

Chloe: ...

Chloe: max

Chloe: havent we talked about this?

Chloe: HAVENT WE TALKED ABOUT NO EMOJI?!

Max: ( ˘ ³˘)~

Chloe: fucks sake, woman

Chloe: i love u so much but sometimes...