October 13, 2013
Tillamook, Oregon
I walk out of the Starbucks to find Chloe already waiting for me, sipping on a soda and looking almost defiantly nonchalant. I'm not surprised that she's standing just out of sight; she's already said that she's not looking forward to the whole 'talking to the girlfriend's parents' thing.
Actually, she had to say it twice. The first time, my brain latched onto the word 'girlfriend' and happily ignored the rest.
Mom and Dad are still reeling from the things I've told them and all they implies, and I didn't even tell them everything. Not yet anyway. I know this won't be our only conversation, and there some things that they'll be better off hearing about in private. And like with Chloe and Victoria, some things they're better off not hearing about at all.
As far as the world is concerned, Mark Jefferson evaded police custody, fled into the woods, and got caught out in the storm. His name is on the 'missing and presumed dead' list, and I'm perfectly happy to leave it there. Even I can't say for certain what really happened (and may still be happening) to him, but I can imagine.
No one else needs to know about that. It's my nightmare. It's always been my nightmare, and I worked too hard to create this timeline to go around giving nightmares to everyone else.
And who knows? Maybe one day I'll be ready to talk about it. Until then, I've given my parents enough to chew on.
"So, how'd it go?" Chloe asks, pushing off the wall.
"Honestly, better than I expected it to. I thought they'd take more convincing, but in the end the hair really did the trick." I hand her beanie back to her. "Thanks for the loan, by the way."
"Anytime." She briefly hands her drink to me so she can happily tug the beanie onto her head. "How're they handling it?"
"Not bad, all things considered. They might need a little time to absorb it all."
"Yeah. Nothing like having their daughter suddenly transform into a tattooed twenty-one-year-old time-traveling lesbian to blow someone's mind a little."
"I might've dropped a little insider information I picked up in the future. Nothing asserts dominance like telling your mom you know all about her brief bi-curious college relationship."
"Damn, Mrs. C! Get it!" she laughs. "Y'know, after Blackhell gave me the boot, I'd have sold one of my kidneys for that kind of dirt on David. Maybe it would've actually shut him up for two damn seconds."
"Chloe, David's..."
"I know, I know," she rolls her eyes. "He might get better in the future, but he's still a dick now. I kinda got the last laugh, though, didn't I? El Douche isn't my problem anymore, Blackhell's a pile of bricks, and I'm still standing."
A thought comes to mind that I've been a little hesitant to bring up. It seems like one of those things that's pretty likely to spark her temper, and my mind briefly flashes back to our long-ago conversation after a Thanksgiving dinner that'll never happen.
Chloe doesn't like being told what to do. She never has.
"You know," I casually begin. "You're going to need to do something about that, eventually."
"About what?"
"Not having a high school diploma."
"Why?" She looks away. "I'm doing fine without it."
"You're nineteen, Chloe. You can get by without a high school diploma at nineteen, but not having it is going make life a lot harder when you get older."
"Then I'll deal with it when I'm older. The school I got kicked out of just got blown to pieces, for fuck's sake. Maybe I wanna take a little time before finding a new place to remind me how dumb I am."
"You're not dumb, Chloe," I insist, pushing back the urge to groan in frustration. "I know you can do it. You did it befo-"
"Fuck, Max!" She angrily hurls her half-empty soda can across the street. "No I didn't, because that wasn't me! I don't fucking care what your Chloe did because that wasn't me!"
A heavy silence falls over us before I respond, softly, "You're right. I shouldn't have pushed."
"Damn it," she murmurs. "No, I'm sorry, Max. I know you're just trying to help."
The two of us walk in silence for a couple of blocks, the brief argument reminding us that for all we mean to each other, we're still working out how to be together. For both of us, one of the biggest hurdles has been moving past the Chloe from the old timeline. Despite everything, I still have to remind myself sometimes that the girl walking beside me is a different person. I can't treat my memories of being with the other Chloe like some kind of relationship cheat sheet.
"Some shit is just hard to get over," she says, eventually. "I know I'm not dumb, but when you hear people say something enough times you kinda start believing it."
I can't think of the right thing to say, so I just keep quiet.
"I'm gonna get my GED, at least." She pauses. "Okay, first I'm gonna figure out how to get my GED. Then I'm gonna get my GED."
I nod. "Solid plan."
"Damn right it is."
"Look, I just want you to know that I'm always going to be here to support you, okay?" I risk a little smile. "And yeah, that means I'm gonna be a pest sometimes."
"You? A pest? I can't even imagine."
"Har har." I spot our destination coming up and reach out to take her hand. "You going to be okay in there?"
"Maybe." She swallows. Her palm is a little sweaty, but I'm not going to say anything. "Yeah, I think so."
"You sure? I can come in with you."
"No. I got this. You'll wait for me, though?"
"Always."
It smells weird in here. Not a bad kind of weird; just too clean.
There's an older guy in scrubs at the front desk, and he looks up when I come in. "Can I help you?"
"Uh, yeah. I..." Would it sound weird if I said I have an appointment? "The cops...the Arcadia Bay ones, I mean...they told me to come by at two-thirty?"
"Name?"
"Chloe." I clench my fists to keep my hands from shaking. "Chloe Price."
"Just a second," he says, typing it into the computer in front of him. "Ah, here it is. Come with me, please."
Standing up, he gestures for me to follow. I trail just behind him down a short hallway and through a big set of double doors into a large room. I try not to shiver as he leads me over to the far wall and a row with what looks like stainless-steel refrigerators. It's cold in here. I mean, obviously, but it's not just the temperature. The whole place feels cold in the same way Jefferson's bunker did.
Morgues always seemed creepy on TV. Turns out they're hella creepy in person, too.
He goes to open one, and I catch a brief glance at the label on it before the door swings outward. It says exactly what I expect it to say, but I still wish I hadn't read it. I expect a cloud of fog to billow out onto the floor, but there's nothing like that. The air flowing from inside isn't much cold that the rest of the room. It's just a refrigerator.
Like the rest of this place, there's no smell, or at least not the kind of smell I expected. Not that I know what a dead body is supposed to smell like. Pretty bad, probably.
Taking hold of a metal bar inside, he pulls out a long metal shelf covered by a white sheet. That looks exactly like it does on TV. "I want to warn you," he says, gently. "The state of decomposition is very advanced."
It doesn't take much imagination to guess what that means; she's been buried in a shallow grave for six months. I nod and try to swallow the lump in my throat. "I get it. C-can I have a minute?"
"Of course," He goes to walk away, then hesitates. "As someone who's been doing this a while, can I offer a piece of advice?"
"I guess?"
"Don't look. It won't bring you peace. Better to remember her as she was."
"Uh...thanks."
He gives me a nod, turns, and then he's gone and I'm all alone with her.
What the fuck am I even supposed to say?
"H-hey, Rachel. It's...uh...it's been a while."
My hand twitches again. I don't know whether it's because I want a cigarette or because I want to tear the sheet away and see what really happened to her. Either way, I jam it in my pocket and keep it there.
"So you...you sure got yourself a primo spot here. Pretty much the presidential suite." I comment, looking around. "The people who got killed in the storm are all in these refrigerated containers across town. Pretty nasty, I bet. I guess you b-beat the r-r-rush..."
I can't stop the tears. I don't even try. I have to grip the side of the metal shelf to keep from collapsing, my breaths coming in deep, heaving sobs. Why did it have to be her? She was the only person in that fucking town I needed. The only one who made me feel like I was worthwhile.
I'm shaken by another sob and almost fall on top of the sheet. My face comes within an inch of it before I catch myself, and for a brief second I smell it – a hint of the rotting decay that's been eating her for half a year. I feel my stomach turn over and I've barely even realized I'm going to puke when white-coat-guy appears out of nowhere and smoothly walks me to a sink.
I kinda wish I'd eaten that crappy sandwich earlier, because all that comes up is half a can of orange soda. And believe me, that stuff doesn't taste great second-hand.
I retch a few more times before my stomach decides it doesn't hate me anymore, then morgue-dude guides me to a chair. He hands me a box of tissues and, a second later, a glass of water. Best of all, he doesn't try to say any comforting bullshit. He just leans against the counter and waits for me to get it together.
"Thanks," I say, finally, pulling out a few tissues and handing the box back to him. He accepts it with a nod.
"No problem."
"I...uh...I guess that's happened before."
"Sometimes."
Going back to the sink, I blow my nose and have a couple more glasses of water. After a minute, I turn back. "Okay, I think I'm good."
He nods again, glancing toward Rachel's...toward Rachel. "Did you have anything else to say?"
I'm surprised enough that I don't answer right away. I kinda figured he was just waiting to kick me out. "Couple things."
"Okay. Would you like me to stay?"
"I..." Weirdly, my first instinct is to say yes. I kinda don't want to be alone and I'm wishing more and more that I'd brought Max with me. "No. Thanks, though."
"No problem." He gestures to the doors at the far end of the room. "I'll be right outside."
"Cool."
Hesitantly shuffling over to where Rachel's waiting, I take a couple breaths and try to untangle all the shit that's rattling around in my head. There are so many things I was certain of that've fallen to pieces in the last seven days, right from the second I looked out over the hood of my truck and locked eyes with my long-lost best friend.
It's weird. I've spent so much time this week obsessing over what me and Max are to each other that my relationship with Rachel's got caught up in it, too. Honestly, I think this week was the first time I really took a step back and looked at who we were together.
Despite my best efforts, a lot of the things Victoria had to say about Rachel have stuck with me. Especially the stuff that I couldn't really deny. There were so many things we did that seemed like such good ideas when Rachel suggested them, because being around her made me forget that consequences were a thing. Like letting her drag me off on her 'field trip'. If I'd just said no and gone to class, I wouldn't have been expelled from Blackwell the next fucking day.
The one that really hurt, though - that froze me where I stood – was when Victoria compared Rachel and I to Jefferson for drugging her over a part in some stupid fucking play. For a second, I couldn't decide whether to break Victoria's nose or drop to my knees and beg her to forgive me.
"What the fuck did we think we were doing, Rach?" I absently murmur. "What if we'd given her too much? We could've killed her, just like Nathan killed you."
I wish I could go back to seeing Rachel in that warm affectionate light I remember, but once someone points out the flaws in something you thought was perfect, you can't just unsee them. And the more I notice, the more I start to see Rachel for who she was.
Not an angel, but a normal teenage girl. A regular flawed person just like the rest of us. Go figure.
"Victoria thinks you never really loved me," I say, keeping my voice low. "That you were just stringing me along because you liked having someone around who adored you. I think she's full of shit. I know you loved me." I hesitate, as if I'm afraid of offending her. "I just think that sometimes, you might've loved yourself a little bit more."
Sometimes it'd felt like everything had been about Rachel, even when it was about me. If I was having a rough time she'd say 'That's terrible, Chloe! I'm so sorry', but it'd almost always be followed by something like 'It's just like the time I...'. Her life seemed so much brighter than mine, though, that I didn't even mind the comparisons. A few times I was almost flattered by them.
"Why did you do it?" The words almost surprise me. I'd barely been aware of the thought before I voiced it out loud. "Why did you cheat on me? Wasn't I good enough? What did Bowers and Jefferson have that I didn't?" Sarcastically, I add, "I mean, besides the obvious."
I wish I could be mad at her, but what would be the point? I've got plenty of people to be angry with who're still alive. I'm not going to waste my time being pissed off at dead people, too.
"Max wanted to save you, you know," I say. "You remember Max, right? My best friend from before we met? She tried to figure out a way, but in the end she just didn't know what would happen if she permanently went back to a time before she first got her powers. What if it made things worse? What if she died and nothing changed at all?"
Shaking my head, I think about how not too long ago I would have wanted Max to try anyway. Now I can't bear the idea of risking her like that.
"And you know how you used to tease me about secretly being in love with her?" I rub the back of my neck, actually embarrassed for some reason. "Well, it turns out you might have been on to something there."
I pause, waiting for Rachel to laugh - that sweet, gentle laugh that never once made me feel like I was being made fun of – but she doesn't. Of course she doesn't, because she's just a lump under a sheet in a too-cold room. Just like Nathan, that vibrant spark that defined her is long gone. This body isn't Rachel Amber any more than the clothes in my closet had been.
Rachel's gone (...shes gone...shes really gone...) and this is just some stuff she left behind.
"You saved me, Rachel. You pulled me back from the edge and I'll always love you for that." I pause, trying to think of something cool to say. Rachel deserves a cool-sounding goodbye. "We might not have come back from our intermission, but maybe I'll see you after the credits roll."
Nailed it.
Satisfied, I take a step back (bye rachel i'll miss you) and then another. I'm almost halfway to the door before I can make myself turn around, and I find the morgue guy waiting right outside.
"Said what you needed to say?"
I consider that for a second. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."
"That's good. Can you find your way out?"
"Sure. And hey...thanks for...y'know."
"Don't mention it."
Walking to the exit, I find I can't quite figure out how I'm feeling. I'm definitely not happy, but I'm not really sad either. I know I'm going to miss her, but it's like the pain of her being gone isn't as bad as it was before. Like knowing what happened and being able to say goodbye lifted some of it away.
I guess this is that 'closure' shit therapists are always going on and on about. I guess I can see why, now. I'd ask Max or Victoria about it, but those two are basically the poster children for not being able to let go of the past.
"Chloe? Chloe Price?"
Oh, fuck me sideways. Of all the people for me to run into.
"Hey, Mrs. Amber," I say, turning away from the exit and even managing to sound polite. "How you doing?"
I never really meshed with Rachel's parents, even at the best of times, and that didn't improve much after she disappeared; especially since the heartless fucks gave up looking for her after just two months. They just accepted the idea that she'd skipped town to go back to LA and gotten on with their lives.
"I don't really know how to answer that," she admits, looking over my shoulder. "When we got the phone call about Rachel, we wer-"
"Chloe Price, I thought that was you." Oh, great. James motherfucking Amber. District Attorney, Rachel's dad, and all-around piece of human shit. This is the stuck-up, holier than thou fuckhead I was forced to look at for years, smiling for Rachel's sake when I knew that he'd hired local scumbag Damon Merrick to kill Rachel's birth mother. "How are you holding up?"
Oh my fucking god, he's using that politician voice of his. He's here because his daughter is dead. Her body is laying in the next room, and he sounds like he's campaigning. I fucking hate this guy.
"Dealing," I answer, shortly.
"I'm sure this must be a very difficult time for you." He reaches out to put a hand on my shoulder. "If there's anything we can do..."
Y'know what? Fuck this guy.
Slapping his hand away, I respond with all the respect and dignity he deserves. "You wanna do something for me? Go suck off a shotgun."
"I...I beg your pardon?" he sputters indignantly, like the fucking hypocrite he is. "How dare y-"
"You hired Damon Merrick to kill Rachel's real mom," I interrupt, watching the color drain from his face as Mrs. Amber turns to him in shock. "He didn't, by the way."
"I-I don't know what you think you've heard, bu-"
"Save the gaslighting for someone who gives a shit. I sat on that secret for three fucking years, because I loved Rachel and I didn't want her to know what a piece of trash her dad was. But now she's gone, and I'm not going to waste any more of my life thinking about you."
"Now, you listen to m-"
"Shut your fucking mouth, asshole! Don't you get it? No one cares! You're nothing! You're the District Attorney of a pile of rubble, and you'll have to go on knowing that you abandoned your daughter to die at the hands of a psycho."
Mr. Amber looks like he's somewhere between scared and indignant, and Mrs. Amber just looks sick. I might feel bad for her if she hadn't been the one who told me to stop putting up the missing person posters because they were 'embarrassing for Rachel's father'.
"You gave up on her. I didn't. Never, ever forget that." Walking away, I pause at the door to look back at them. "Rachel deserved better."
Waiting just outside the doors, I watch with confusion (and more than a little concern) as Chloe tells off the older couple who just walked in. I can't hear what she's saying but judging from their expressions, it's pretty bad. Chloe still looks pissed when she shoves the door open and comes to a staggering halt when she sees me.
"Oh. Hey, Max."
"Hey." I glance over her shoulder. "What was that about?"
"Uh..." She pauses. "Red light?"
Oh. Well, I guess we can still use that. "Not ready to talk about it?"
She shakes her head.
"That's okay." I smile, stepping forward to give her a hug like the supportive and loving girlfriend (woo-hoo!) I am. "Take your time."
"Really? Just like that?"
I step back. "Just like what?"
"You're not gonna bug me till I talk about it?"
"You said you're not ready to. I figured we'd talk about it when you are." She looks alarmingly surprised by the idea. "Is...is that not normal?"
She shrugs. "Rachel never left anything alone. If she wanted to know something, she didn't give up until I told her. She could be a real pain in the ass about it."
That's new. In the first timeline, it was pretty rare for Chloe to talk about Rachel, and even rarer for her to say something negative about her. One more reminder that things aren't going to be the same this time around. "Well, I can wait for as long as you need."
She laughs ruefully. "This is one of those 'healthy adult relationship' things, isn't it?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Weird."
I rise up on my toes to kiss her cheek. "You'll get used to it."
"Max! Hey, Max!"
Surprised, I turn toward the shout to see Taylor running toward us.
"Oh my fucking god," Chloe mutters. "I swear, if Victoria stood her up I'm gonna kick her scrawny blonde ass."
"She doesn't look angry," I murmur back. "That's probably a good thing."
"Seriously, though...kick her scrawny blonde ass."
"Be nice." Raising my voice, I give Taylor a wave. "Hey, Taylor. What's up?"
"I've been looking all over fo-whoa." She comes to a jarring stop a few feet away, her eyes going wide. "Max, your hair. It's...wow."
"So Victoria actually did woman up and tell you everything?" Chloe asks, grinning.
"Yeah," she nods, still kinda staring at my head. "And I believed her, but..."
"But there's a difference between knowing something and knowing something?" Chloe asks, and Taylor nods again.
"You going to be okay?" I ask, cautiously. I know Victoria would never intentionally do anything to hurt Taylor, but she can be pretty blunt sometimes.
"I'm good. It's just..." She laughs softly. "Would you believe that finding out that Victoria is in love with me was a bigger shock than finding out she's a time traveler?"
"Fuck!" Chloe laughs. "Tell me about it!"
Taylor eyes Chloe for a second, then looks back to me. "You weren't kidding about the tattooed punk rock chicks, huh?"
"I sure wasn't." I hesitate. "So you and Victoria are okay?"
"Oh yeah, we're great." She smiles, blushing a little. "Like, really great."
"Yeah." Chloe nods, smirking. "You definitely look like things are...great."
Even though her blush gets a little deeper, Taylor still rolls her eyes. "Anyway, she actually asked me to find you two. She said she has some big surprise for everyone."
"It'd better not have anything to do with lotto numbers and sports scores," I say, kind of suspecting it might.
"It doesn't," she shrugs. "I already asked."
"Well, yeah," Chloe agrees. "That's, like, the first thing you ask."
"Exactly," Taylor nods. "I'm glad someone else gets it."
"Well, let's not keep her waiting," I say, chuckling.
"Could we stop at the 7-11 first?" Chloe asks. "I'm kind of thirsty."
"Well, then maybe you shouldn't have thrown your drink across the street," I fire back, giving her an unimpressed look that seems to have absolutely no effect.
"Actually, I'm a little thirsty, too," Taylor comments.
"Fine. Whatever. We'll keep Victoria waiting. I'm sure she won't mind that at all."
"About fucking time you three showed up!" Victoria shouts as Chloe, Taylor, and I walk up. As we cross the local park she asked to meet us in, I notice she hasn't been waiting alone. Sitting next to her on the set of aluminum bleachers is none other than...
"Kate?"
"Hi, Max!" She waves, looking shockingly cheery for someone who's been sitting next to her own bully. Her and Victoria's conversation must've gone really well.
"Sup, Special K," Chloe says as we get close. "I hear you and Christensen here went all Road Warrior during the storm. Sounded pretty epic."
"It was certainly interesting," Kate agrees with a little shrug.
"Dope. I wanna hear all about it." She points to the bleachers Kate's sitting on. "Hey, those aren't too high, are they? What if you fall?"
I'm about to smack Chloe on the shoulder when Kate actually laughs. "I'll be fine. Falling's not really my area of expertise."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot."
"I dunno, Kate," Taylor chimes in, grinning. "You're getting better at it."
"Geez, you fracture one little wrist and suddenly...oh, wait! You guys haven't signed my cast yet!" Hopping down from her seat, she pulls a sharpie from her pocket and rushes over to hand it to Chloe. "No cursing, please."
"Spoilsport." Thinking for a second, Chloe uses the empty space just below Victoria's name to quickly draw an adorable little caricature of Kate with angel wings and sunglasses. "There ya go."
"Aww! I love it! Thank you, Chloe! It looks so good!"
While Chloe basks in the praise, I settle for a much more boring signature in the free space between Evan's and Warren's. Capping the sharpie, I turn to Victoria.
"So, what's this big surprise we've heard so much about?"
"Right. Everyone sit down," she says, waving at the bleachers, "So, I was talking with my parents about...well...stuff. About what we owe Max, and how Chloe means everything to her, and how horribly I treated Kate, and how much..." she smiles a little shyly, which looks kind of weird on her. "...how much I love Taylor."
Beside us, Taylor blushes too.
"Er...anyway, I wanted to find a way for us to...do right by you guys, I guess? They agreed, and that's why they gave me this." Grinning, she holds up a black card she'd told me about a few times, but that I've never actually seen.
"A credit card," Chloe deadpans. "Cool."
"This isn't a credit card, Chloe. This is the credit card. It's an American Express Centurion Card that's linked directly to my sizable trust fund, which itself is connected to my family's many, many, many accounts. For all intents and purposes, it has no spending limit. And I asked you here to tell you that after today, as far as you're concerned, things like debt and loans and mortgages are problems for other people."
"Meaning...what, exactly?" Taylor asks, hesitantly.
"Meaning that whatever university you want to go to – and I'm talking about the best schools - tuition and expenses are on me. It means that if you want to own your own home, it's yours." She looks at me, smiling. "And if, god forbid, you or someone you love gets sick? You'll enjoy the best medical care in the world and it won't cost you a dime."
"That last one was about you," I whisper to Chloe, gently elbowing her side. She just nods dumbly.
Kate fidgets a little. "I'm not sure I'd be comfortable accepting that."
"Good thing I'm not asking, then. If you want to go through all the hassle of getting student loans or mortgages, go right ahead. I'll just contact the bank directly and pay them off for you. What are they going to do? Say no?"
"But..."
"If it makes you feel better, Kate, this isn't a free ride. I'm not about to pay for your every whim for the rest of your lives. I'm just want you all to enjoy some of the advantages I would have taken for granted. Think of it as a chance to follow your dreams without having to worry about whether or not you can afford them." She pauses, smirking a little. "That said, I'm also going to see to it that you and your families all get set up with some very lucrative privately managed investment portfolios."
"And your parents are really okay with this?" I ask. I'm sure the Chases are grateful, but this seems like a lot.
"I think they'd be more hesitant under normal circumstances," Victoria admits. "But they've agreed that these definitely aren't normal circumstances. Besides, it's not that much money, relatively speaking."
"Sending all of us to university isn't much money?" Chloe laughs. "How do you fucking figure that?"
"Because the total amount it would cost for each of you to get a doctorate degree and own a three-bedroom house would be less than a thousandth of a percent of Chase International's annual revenue."
"Hang on." Chloe leans forward. "What the hell is Chase International?"
"My parents' company."
"I thought your parents owned an art gallery or something?"
"They do," Victoria agrees. "Among many, many other corporate assets."
"Uh-huh." Chloe narrows her eyes suspiciously. I don't blame her for being a little skeptical. When Victoria first told me how much Chase International was actually worth, I just about choked. "Just how rich are you saying your family is?"
"Considering we don't waste our money on yachts and vanity mansions like that Bezos douchebag?" She grins. "Extremely."
"Nuh-uh. I want a number."
"You're not ready for a number, Chloe," Taylor laughs, and she's probably right.
"Oh, whatever." Chloe snorts. "Try me, rich girl."
"Alright, fine." Walking over, Victoria leans down to whisper something in Chloe's ear, and a half-second later my girlfriend (yay!) recoils in shock. "Are you fucking serious?!"
"Yup."
"Was that with a B?!"
"Sure was."
"And you lived in Arcadia fucking Bay?!" Her eyes go wide. "Wait, did...did you guys own Arcadia Bay? Have we all been, like, living in your front yard or something?"
"My family didn't own Arcadia Bay, Chloe. My parents just have this whole thing about not living excessively. They never saw the point of owning a house with rooms that you could go weeks without actually seeing." She pauses. "Though Dad does have a weakness for sports cars."
"Um, everyone?" Kate interrupts, raising her hand a bit. "Can I say something?"
"Of course." Victoria nods, sharing a look with Chloe that screams 'we'll talk about this later'.
"Okay." Standing, Kate pauses to clear her throat, not quite looking at anyone. "So, I've been thinking a lot about all the things Max and Victoria told us about the future. About how the first time they lived through today, Taylor and I were already gone. How badly hurt the rest of you were. How Chloe didn't get much more than a year. And it's got me thinking about how different things are going to be this time."
"That's the idea," I point out, smiling.
"Exactly." Kate nods. "And just now, when Victoria said she would pay for all those things, my first thought was that I wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore. I could just relax and live an easy life." She shakes her head. "But I don't think I'm supposed to do that. I don't think any of us are."
I glance at the others, but they look as puzzled as I am.
"I know that not everyone shares the same beliefs as me," she continues. "But there's no denying that what happened is bigger than all of us. I feel like something more powerful than we can imagine gave us a second chance. That's why I know I need to do something big with my life. Something important. Something that matters."
"What's that?" Taylor asks, curious.
"I haven't figured that part out yet," Kate admits, shrugging. "But I will. And I think you should all do the same."
I have to confess, I'm not a huge fan of the idea. And from the look on Victoria's face, neither is she. It may sound selfish, but I think we've done enough big important things for one lifetime. Personally, I'd be quite happy to fade into the background and live out my days in peace and quiet.
At least, as much peace and quiet as a life with Chloe could possibly contain.
I guess I'm not very subtle about what I'm thinking, because Kate hurries to add, "I'm not trying to pressure or guilt-trip any of you, I swear! You all can do whatever you want with your lives, and if you think you've given up enough for the world, I'm certainly in no position to say otherwise. All I'm asking you to do is think about it, okay?"
October 14, 2013
FEMA Relief Camp
Tillamook, Oregon
"Houston, huh?"
"Houston," I nod. "The MD Anderson Cancer Center is the best in the world. I talked to my parents about it a couple of days ago, and they've already arranged everything."
"Geez," Chloe looks down, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. "I...I really don't know what to say, Vic. Seriously, thank you."
"Don't worry about it." I reach out and gently squeeze her shoulder, and I can actually see it blow her mind a little. If I ever needed proof of how much I've changed in two years, the look on her face would be more than enough. "Just focus on getting better, okay?"
"You got it." She glances back at the limo waiting to take her and Max to the airport in Portland. "So, I guess this is goodbye for a while?"
"Sure." I roll my eyes. "You know, except for phone calls, texts, emails, and visits."
"I guess," she laughs.
I look around curiously. Max has already said her goodbyes, but I expected to see Joyce and David here to see Chloe off. "Isn't anyone else coming to say goodbye?"
"Er...nope."
"Not even your mom?"
"She...heh...might not know I'm leaving now."
You've got to be kidding me. "Are you seriously ghosting your own mother?"
"No! She totally knows I'm leaving. Just not that I'm leaving right now."
"Don't you think she'd want to say goodbye?"
"Yeah, but if she was here she'd probably want to know where I was going." Chloe seems to find it suspiciously hard to look me in the eye. "And...y'know...why."
"Oh my god! You didn't tell her?!"
"I'm going to! I'm totally going to! Just...not right now. This isn't like your parents or Max's. She lost almost everything to the storm. How can I tell her that she might lose me, too?"
"She's not going to lose you!" I snap. After all the shit we've gone through to get here, there's no way in hell I'll accept anything less than Chloe's complete recovery.
"You know what I mean," she groans. "Look, I want to wait until I've talked to a doctor and there's actually a plan before I drop the cancer bomb on her. So she'll have hope right away. Is that so fucking unreasonable?"
I want to say yes, but maybe she's got a point. Maybe Joyce really doesn't need to take another hit right now. After a few seconds, I give Chloe a reluctant nod. "I guess that's your decision."
"Thanks, Vic."
"Is there any point reminding you that my name isn't Vic?"
"None at all."
"Didn't think so," I mutter, rolling my eyes. "You'd better get a move on, or you'll miss your flight."
"Right. Take it easy."
"You, too," I say. "Oh, one last thing."
"Yeah?"
I point to the limo, where Max is already waiting. "I deleted The Spirits Within from the available movies before Max got here."
It happens before I have a chance to react. Before this week, I'd never have imagined myself being voluntarily hugged by Chloe Price. "Thank you, Victoria."
I give her a gentle pat on the back. "You're welcome."
"I love her so much, but..."
"I understand." Laughing, I take a step back. "Now get going before your girlfriend gets jealous."
October 21, 2013
University of Texas - MD Anderson Cancer Center
Houston, TX
"You know," Doctor Singh comments as she looks over Chloe's test results. "It's rare for someone your age to be so proactive about their health."
"Seriously?"
She nods. "Most of the time they either ignore the symptoms or just try to 'tough it out'. Especially something as innocuous as a persistent cough."
Chloe shrugs and gives me a smile. "I guess I recently realized that life is short, y'know?"
"I suppose that's fair," Looking up, Singh folds her hands on her desk and gives us a serious look. "So, I have good news and I have bad news."
"Okay." Chloe nods. "Well, my dad always used to say it was better to start with the bad news."
"As you like." Pulling a pair of CT scanner images out of the folder, she lays them out for us to see. I know what she's going to say the moment I look at them, but I somehow doubt that'll make it any easier to hear. "I'm sorry to tell you this, Ms. Price, but we've confirmed that you have stage 2A lung cancer."
I'm stunned by the mix of emotions that wash over me. Even though I'd been right - despite knowing the words were coming, they still land heavily – I still felt a wave of elation. Stage 2A! She'd only at stage 2A! I'd forced myself to temper my expectations, preparing myself to deal with something as bad as stage 3B! I feel like I could jump up and dance on Dr. Singh's desk!
"The good news is that we've caught it relatively early," Doctor Singh continues, oblivious to my inner celebration. "And that your condition is very much treatable. You're quite lucky, Ms. Price."
"I bet you don't get to follow up a cancer diagnosis with the word 'lucky' very often, do you?" Chloe laughs, looking a lot more relaxed than me.
"Not nearly as often as I'd like," she admits with a smile. "Based on these results, I think you might be able to get by without surgery. We should be able to eliminate the cancerous growth with a combination of radiation and chemotherapy." She grins. "All told, you have every reason to be optimistic."
"Music to my ears."
"We can begin working out a treatment plan today, if you like?"
"You know what they say. No time like the present." She turns to give me a smile, and I grin back and reach over to take her hand. "Alright, Doc. Let's do it."