Arcadia Bay Medical Centre
Arcadia Bay, Oregon

We've been sitting in the stuffy waiting room of Arcadia Bay's hospital for over an hour, and I've been trying to give a fuck about the same dumbass waiting room magazine for nearly as long. Finally giving up, I toss it onto a side table and turn to the man sitting quietly beside me.

"So, David." It feels weird to be talking to him without sarcasm. "Really seemed like you knew your shit back there. Are you, like, secretly a doctor or something?"

"No," he responds shortly, then adds, "But I learned a few things in the Army."

"Oh." That's a landmine of a comment if I ever heard one. "Well..."

Oh, to hell with it.

"Thank you, David. Seriously, thank you so much."

"It was nothing," he responds gruffly, because of course he does. Well, I'm not letting him off that easy.

"Dude, it was everything! I was fucking useless! I couldn't even think. Max was just laying there helpless, and I...I..." Damn it, I've gone too far. The tears are building up again. Hoping he doesn't notice, I squeeze my eyes shut to keep them from falling.

I hear David open his mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, then say, "I know how bad it can be."

I don't know what I expected him to say, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't it. And even though it feels like another landmine I can't help but ask, "What?"

"When a friend is fine one second and bleeding on the ground the next. It's like the whole world slams to a stop, then starts going a million miles an hour, and all you want to do is help them, but you can't remember how."

Surprised, I give him a shaky nod. "Y-yeah."

"Yeah," he sighs.

I know I should leave it there, but curiosity gets the better of me. "Was that how Ph-"

"What do you think is taking Joyce so long?" he asks, a little sharply.

"Dunno." I might be a little dense from time to time, but that's one topic that's definitely closed for business. We go back to sitting in silence for a while, then a thought occurs to me. An incredibly stupid thought with no basis in reality that still scares the shit out of me. "What if this is my fault?"

"What?" Now he looks off-balance. I wish I were in the headspace to enjoy it.

"Right before she fell, she..." I stare at a crack in the waiting room's linoleum floor, unable to believe I'm about to say this completely idiotic notion out loud. I'm actually about to go with 'never mind' when the words come out in a rush. "I dared her to kiss me and she totally did but then I kinda spazzed 'cause I wasn't expecting her to actually, you know, do it and then she got all weirdly happy and kissed me again and it was amazing and then she..."

"Hold up. You dared her to..." He trails off as his mind catches up with my rambling. "Oh, uh..."

"What if it, like, freaked her out so bad that she had an aneurysm or somethi-"

"Chloe," David shifts a little awkwardly in his seat. Once again, I wish I were in a mood to enjoy his discomfort. "I'm pretty sure that isn't what happened."

"But..."

"I can pretty much guarantee that wasn't what happened," he insists, a familiar sternness creeping into his voice. "Look, you can't start blaming yourself for something that was outside your control. It won't help you, and it definitely won't help Max. Trust me on that."

I'm torn between the desire to argue, because it's David, and the desire to agree, because it's Max. I am in no way equipped to make this kind of decision right now.

"And for what it's worth," Reaching over, he awkwardly pats me on the shoulder. "I think Max is going to be okay."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I do." He risks a small smile. "I'm guessing she's tougher than she looks."

I laugh, despite myself. "Man, kittens are tougher than Max looks."

He actually chuckles, and I almost recoil in shock. Are David and I having a moment? Is that what's happening right now?

"Well, she'd have to be made of some pretty strong stuff to take the fall for you, wouldn't she?"

"What do you..." I stop mid-sentence, remembering the weed that Max took the blame for and my own panicked confession earlier. "Oh, right. That."

"Yeah. That." He scowls a little, then sighs. "I meant what I said, though. You're not going to get in trouble for having that pot in your room, and neither is Max."

It feels like I've dropped into the twilight zone or something. David is being chill about drugs. It's the latest in a long line of jarring things that have happened to me in the last couple of hours, and I'm honestly not sure how much more I can take. "We're not?"

"I promised you wouldn't if you told me the truth, and I keep my promises."

"Oh." For want of something better to do, I pick at one of the rips in my jeans. "That's actually pretty coo-"

"Chloe? David?" Mom's voice interrupts me before I accidentally pay David a compliment, and she walks into the waiting area a second later with an irritated expression. "There you two are. I swear, it should not be so hard to find parking in such a small town."

I smile as she strides purposefully across the room. Now that the initial shock has worn off, Mom's back to being everyone's favorite salty waitress. I don't know how many times I've complained about it or called her a hardass, but right now I'm just really happy to know I have something solid to lean on.

Sitting down, she wraps her arm around my shoulders. "How's Max? Any word yet?"

"Not a fucking thing." She looks like she wants to scold me for swearing but keeps it to herself. I guess having my best friend (I think...?) in the hospital has earned me a free pass. "Are her parents coming down?"

She nods. "They couldn't book a flight to Portland until tomorrow, so they're driving. They should be here in a few hours."

"Is that a good idea? Driving, I mean. They must be freaking out."

"I tried to talk Vanessa out of it." She sighs. "I told her that no one should get behind the wheel in the state they're in and that getting into a car crash wouldn't help Max."

"No shit." I haven't seen Max's parents in years but can't help laughing at the image that pops into my head. "I can totally see Mrs. C going full-on Road Warrior down the I-5."

Mom doesn't seem to find it as amusing. "Don't you joke. If I were in her place, I wouldn't let anything in the world keep me from getting to you."

A warm feeling blooms in my chest. Embarrassed, I cough loudly and gesture to the admissions desk. "Man, what is taking so long. If they don't tell us something soon, I swear I'm gonna lose it."

As though the universe had been listening, the sliding doors next to the desk open and an overweight woman in pink scrubs emerges, clipboard in hand. She looks around the mostly empty waiting area for a second before her eyes settle on me. "Chloe Price?"

I practically explode from my seat. A quick glance at the laminated badge clipped to the woman's ample chest confirms that she's one of the hospital's nurses. "Is Max okay? Do you know what happened?"

"Max?" It's weird how hung-up people get on the whole 'but that's a boy's name' thing. "Her driver's license says..."

"She prefers Max," I interrupt. I seriously don't have time for this shit. "Can I see her?"

"In a minute, Ms. Price." She holds up the clipboard. "I see you put yourself down as her next of kin."

"Yeah?"

"Are the two of you related?"

"We're..." I hesitate. "No, we're not."

The woman shakes her head gravely. "Next of kin is reserved for biological family. You can't just..."

"I know, I know. But she goes to Blackwell and her parents are in Seattle. I mean, they were. They're on their way, but it'll be hours before they get here. For now, I'm all you've got."

"She's still in high school?" She looks surprised.

"That's right."

"Hm." She glances over my shoulder, into the waiting area. "Is that your mother and father?"

Normally I'd make a point of saying that David is my stepfather, but that doesn't seem very important right now. "Yeah."

"Maybe I should talk to them."

"I'm Max's best friend. We've known each other since we were little kids." Except for the last five years, but I'm not about to mention that part. "There's nothing they can tell you that I can't."

"Well, I suppose we can start with..."

"We can start with you telling me whether or not Max is okay." Since there's this whole thing about flies, honey, and vinegar, I add, "Please."

She sighs. "She seems to be doing fine."

"Oh, thank god. What was it? I mean, what happened to her? Was it actually...?" I don't really want to ask. "Was she on something?"

She hesitates, then shakes her head. "It doesn't appear so. The lab results are still pending, but she doesn't show any signs of drug abuse. At least, not for the symptoms she was brought in for. Actually, perhaps you could answer a few questions about that."

What questions could I possibly answer? I'm not a fucking doctor. "Uh, I guess? Fire away."

"Were you there when the ambulance was called?"

I nod, not really wanting to think about it.

"According to the emergency dispatcher, she was having a seizure. Is that correct?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"It was also reported that she was bleeding heavily from the nose and eyes. Can you confirm that as well?"

This is fucking ridiculous. "Yes, I can confirm that. So could anyone who laid eyes on her, for fuck's sake."

"Please mind your language, Ms. Price."

I want to tell her to mind her own fucking language, but I just take a slow breath. Copping an attitude isn't going to get me in to see Max any faster. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm just really worried about her."

"I understand." She studies me for a second. "Was Mac...er...Max involved in an altercation recently?"

"What?"

"Altercation means a figh-"

"I know what altercation means. And no, Max hasn't been in a fight recently. Or ever, probably."

"Hm." I can tell she doesn't believe me, but what-fucking-ever. "What is your and Max's relationship, exactly?"

"I already told you, I'm her best friend."

"Just her friend?"

"Yes, I'm just her friend," I say. Though after this morning, I'm actually not sure where Max and I stand on that. "Is that important?"

"Not necessarily," she hedges, giving me a look that I've seen too many times in this dumbass town. No idea why it's coming up now, but what-the-fuck-ever. "I just want to rule out some things."

"What things, exactly?" If she hears the irritation in my voice, she doesn't react to it.

"Well..." She hesitates the way people always do when they're worried what they're about to say is bigoted bullshit. In my experience, that's usually because it is bigoted bullshit. "It's just that there's a few infectious conditions that are common in certain social groups."

Yup, there it is. I somehow resist the urge to grind my teeth. "By which you mean..."

She leans in and lowers her voice. "I'm referring to homosexuals. The fact is that there are certain dangerous and infectious diseases that are commonly passed between people like that. We won't know for sure until the rest of her blood panel comes back, but I'd like to avoid any risk she might pose to the staff or the other patients."

Any risk she might pose.

Max comes in covered in blood, and this twat is afraid she might have one of those 'gay diseases'? I can almost feel my blood starting to boil, and for a second all I want to do is grab the fire extinguisher off the wall and see how many of this bitch's bones I can smash before security can take me down. I'm so caught up in the fantasy that it takes me a second to realize she's still talking.

"-ich she is, if the tattoo is any indication."

"What?" Out of everything she'd said, it's weird how that's the thing my brain stumbles over. "Max doesn't have a tattoo."

"Yes, she does." She actually double-checks her notes. "Two, actually."

Wait.

Hold up.

This does not compute.

Max doesn't have a tattoo, let alone two tattoos. I'd know if she did, considering I saw just about every square inch of that girl in the pool last night. She was practically naked. I'm pretty sure I'd have noticed if she had any tattoos. And even if these supposed tattoos were hidden by her underwear (don't think about that right now, Chloe, I swear to god) Max is way too much of a wuss to even get inked, let alone somewhere like that. Right?

Unaware of my brief mental spiral, Nurse Asshole is looking at me like she's waiting for response. Well, if that's what she wants, I'll give her a goddamn response.

"Y'know what? Fuck this and fuck you. Where is she?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Did I stammer? I'm gonna go see Max now. What room is she in?"

"I..."

"Tell me what room, or I swear to fucking god I'm gonna walk right over to the Beacon and tell the first reporter I see what the staff here thinks of gay people. Maybe I'll even add the part where you shared private information with someone who isn't a family member." I don't know if that's as big a deal as TV shows always make it sound, but I really hope it is. "I bet your boss will just love to see that shit on the front page."

She recoils, her eyes going wide. I know that face, too. It's the look that people who say 'I'm not prejudiced, but...' get when they realize they've just been called out. "You can't just...

"Test me, bitch." I lean in closer, enjoying the way she flinches. Sometimes it's nice to be tall. "See what happens."

After a few more seconds, her shoulders sag and she points down the hall. "She's in room number twelve." Her voice is practically dripping with resentment when she adds, "And I'm sorry if what I said was offensive."

"Yeah, I bet." I wave in the opposite direction of Max's room. "Go be an intolerant cow someplace else."

I walk away without another word, torn between righteous satisfaction and seething anger. Some bullshit just never goes away, some people will always be dumb fucking assholes, and in small-town Oregon there's plenty of both to go around. It's times like this I'm so glad mom is cool with me being gay. Even David manages his own brand of awkward tolerance. Honestly, being gay is probably the only thing he's never given me any shit about.

I use the walk to Max's room to calm myself down. The last thing she needs is for me to go in there angry. It's time for me to put on my Supportive Chloe hat. Taking a deep breath, I stuff all those irritating thoughts into the box marked 'Shit I'll Deal With Later' and push the door open.