Chapter 01: Welcome Back
My head throbbed to the beat of my heart. The light coming through my windows and the sour churning of my stomach told me that I wasn't gonna get any more sleep. "Fuck me," I muttered as I kicked the sheets away and reached over for my ashtray. I silently cursed last-night me as I only found a roach left from my joint. Digging around, I only found one other roach. It was official. I was out of pot.
Setting the ashtray aside, I got up and fished around in my underwear drawer until I found my bowl. I picked apart the roaches and packed what little remained in the bowl and lit it up. As I breathed in my favorite medication, my mind wandered back to last night. My already sour stomach turned. I fucked that up, again.
Rach and I were trying to play a couple of guys for a quick score. I know Rachel managed to lift like two-hundred bucks from her mark and I don't think she even kissed the sucker. My sorry ass got caught up and I ended up having to suck off that douchebag before Rach sprung me. Only got like eighty bucks out of the guy's wallet, too.
After finishing off my bowl and not feeling nearly buzzed enough, I grabbed my phone and headed to the bathroom to suck down some water and brush my teeth again as I weighed the options of burning through my emergency fund to stock up on weed for the week. Today was Rachel's first official day of Spring Break, which meant that we would get to hang every day this week. I was hoping to score enough not to have to worry about my supply, and going out to scrounge up more dough was not something I wanted to waste any time on this week. Maybe Frank would have an easy job lined up? That could work out.
The mess in the mirror belied the fact that I did, in fact, take a shower last night before passing out. Probably didn't help that I just threw on a bra and shorts from the "used" pile and my lack of beanie made my roots look like complete shit. I would have to buy some more dye soon. I briefly thought about a new color, but dismissed it. The blue was so dark I'd have to bleach it to try a different shade. Fuck that. Blue suited me perfectly fine, anyway.
After finishing scrubbing my teeth (and tongue), I picked up the phone, and already today was shit. 09:52 AM, April 1st. April Fool's Day. Rachel always got me good. I don't think I ever got the better of her. Probably because I could never plan that far ahead. And, of course, Rach already texted me that she's got a surprise for me. "Fuck," I muttered as I turned to head downstairs and grab a bite.
I went straight for the kitchen, but I heard movement from the living room. Could Rachel have been here already? How did she never seem to get hungover, no matter how trashed she got? It had to be Rachel. Step-dick didn't get the week off and Joyce already left for work hours ago. "Hey, Rach," I muttered as I grabbed a box of cereal and wondered if my stomach could even handle sugar and milk at this point. Still, my aching head demanded that whatever food I get, it not take any effort at all.
Just stay down, damn it.
After preparing my half-assed meal, I brought it to the table and sat down, suddenly feeling less hungry as my stomach protested at the very sight of food. Still, I had to try. The first bite managed to stay down. If anything my stomach felt just a bit better. Pushing the cereal under the milk with my spoon, I spoke up, "Thanks again for saving my ass last night. I always seem to fuck it up." I looked up, and Rachel was not sitting on my couch. The spoon slipped from my hand as I found a mop of brown hair and a pattern of freckles forever burned into my memory. "Max?"
She grimaced a half-smile as she held up a little hand and gave me a shy wave. "H-hey, Chloe."
Of course, my body being the finely-tuned machine it was, took the shock of seeing my ex-best friend for the first time in five years with stride and poise. I sprinted to the back door and barely managed to clear the threshold before I started puking. After the first purge, my body kept dry-heaving, trying to push out what wasn't in there. Halfway through, though, I felt a hand on my back, tracing small, comforting circles. I spat out the burning remains of the bile in my mouth before managing to choke out, "What the fuck, Max?"
Max led me back to the kitchen, where I turned on the sink and cupped my hand under the water before bringing it to my mouth. I gave it a good rinse before spitting it out and repeating the ritual while Max fetched me a clean glass. Max held the glass under the faucet until it was half-full before passing it to me. "Not exactly the reaction I was expecting," she said, not even trying to hide her snark. Fuck if she hadn't changed in five years.
A few sips of water and I went back to the table. My stomach wanted nothing more from the bowl, but I couldn't stand to even look over at her. Max fucking Caulfield. My body couldn't decide whether to hug her or yell at her. So yeah, I guess violently yaking was somewhere around the middle ground. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm just hella hungover."
Max made her way over, sitting across from me. "It… I can't tell you how good it is to see you again, Chloe."
I dared to look up, and instantly regretted it. Max started at me with an expression I couldn't quite place. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears and I swear it was almost like she looked at me as if I were the only thing on Earth.
Stomping down the pleasant feelings I didn't deserve, I took an angry bite from my bowl and shook my head. "Yeah, must be nice," I muttered, my mouth still half-full. "Mad Max makes her triumphant return to find that she really was better off getting the fuck out of Arcadia Bay before it chewed her up and turned her into a piece of shit like everyone else."
"Chloe, the only piece of shit at this table is me," Max said to me, her voice hitching at the end.
Despite myself, I looked again to find her swiping at her flushed cheeks. "Max…"
"I'm so, so sorry!" she interrupted my non-existent train of thought. Tears streamed anew as she shook her head and her gaze fell down to the table. "I know that there's nothing I can ever do to make up for those five years of silence. That mistake will always be my biggest regret, and you have no idea just how much I've managed to fuck everything up."
"Is that why you're here? Because you fucked up and needed to run away from your goddamn problems again?" The words fell out of my head before I could stop them.
Max sniffled, shaking her head. "I… have to accept responsibility for all that I've done." Her hand drifted out toward me but stopped halfway across the table. Her head raised just enough to stare at her hand. "I came here to see you. And if you hate me, or you never want to see me again, that… th-that's okay. I deserve it." Her eyes found mine, a fierce determination hiding behind a wall of tears. "But I will always love you."
I threw the spoon down again as I stormed away. Only making it as far as the counter, I rested my hands on the surface there as I fought against my own body. It threw everything it could at me. My face burned with embarrassment and anger. My gut churned with resentment and hope. Even my damn heart tried to escape my chest as her words echoed in my brain like a mantra. "Fuck, Max. I don't hate you. I hate what you did!"
"Not as much as I do," Max replied, and I was glad I couldn't see her face.
"No way!" I spun around, submitting to the rabid rage that burned in me. "You do not get to say that!" I pointed at Max, and she shrunk there in the seat. "My whole life imploded in one day and the one person who could've made it better—could've made my life not a heaping pile of shit—couldn't be bothered to call or even fucking text for five goddamn years!"
I got it all out. All the pain and frustration I had for my once best friend and the way she just cut me out of her life. And I didn't feel one bit better. I just stood there, looking at Max as she hugged herself and cried. Deep in the pit of my stomach, my rage flipped from Max to myself. If anyone, anyone, made Max cry like that, I'd beat them senseless. Shitless. I'd beat them until I felt better, and looking at Max now, I don't think I'd ever feel better. I did that to her.
"Fuck!" I shouted, turning to punch whatever was closest.
"Don't!" I wasn't even able to swing. Max's hands were around my arm, holding me back. "Don't hurt yourself."
I shook her off. I briefly wondered how Max moved so fast, but it was a momentary distraction from my rage. As much as I didn't want to, I stumbled back so I could look at Max. At least she wasn't crying anymore. It made me feel at least a little less like the mega-bitch I was. "Max, I'm sorry. I… I've just wanted to say that to you for… for like forever. I didn't mean any of it."
Max stepped up, her hand falling on my forearm. "You meant it, and I deserved it."
"No," I pulled my arm away and stepped back. Not really knowing why, my hand found the spot where Max's hand rested a moment ago. It wasn't nearly as warm as hers. "I deserved it. I'm glad you got out of this shithole. Really, I am. You did what I never could because you're better than me, Max. You were always better than this two-bit town." Tearing my eyes away from that sad look Max gave me, I looked down at myself. Of course, Max is here dressed up in her hipster best, and I'm standing here in dirty underwear. "But me? Just look at me, Max. I'm worthy of being trapped in this little corner of hell until the day I die. A lot's changed in five years."
Though that sadness remained, a flash of anger crossed Max's eyes as she fixed me with her best, though still far from intimidating, glare. "Don't you dare talk about my best friend that way."
My heart missed a beat. I just couldn't help but smile a bit when she called me her best friend. "Please," I said, scratching my head as I averted my gaze. My face felt hot, too. "I'm sure you've got a ton of way better friends in Seattle."
Max's intense gaze bored into me. She spoke with a conviction I didn't know Max could possess, "Never."
I stepped away and toward the stairs. "I, uh, I should probably get dressed. Make yourself at home."
"Do you mind if I take a shower?" Max asked, giving herself a one-armed hug in that self-conscious way she always did. "I kind of rushed out here to see you."
"Knock yourself out," I said. It finally dawned on me that there was a big piece of luggage sitting behind the couch. "Are you… staying here?"
Max nodded, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. "If that's okay with you. I'm here for the week. Mom's gonna pick me up Sunday morning."
"Fine by me," I said, pushing down the feelings bubbling up at the prospect of spending a whole week with Max. Some part of me screamed that it would be just like old times. Like I could recapture that innocence and happiness I left behind so long ago. The other part of me just said that I would torture myself for a whole week. That part was probably right. I had a hand on the rail as I rounded it and stepped up on the first stair. "And, for what it's worth, welcome back, Max."
After throwing on some decent clothes and my trademark beanie, I spent a good five minutes trying to scrounge up some hidden stash I might've hidden some long time ago and forgotten. It was useless. I really was completely out of pot and I really, really needed a fix right now.
Seriously, what the fuck? Why the hell is Max back, anyway?
Giving up, I headed out of my room with the intent to grab my phone from downstairs. As soon as I hit the hallway, I couldn't help but hear the shower. My gaze lingered at the door as my mind trailed to the gutter. When Max left, I hadn't even really discovered myself. Now she was back and still hella cute. I wondered for a moment just how much of her was really covered in freckles.
No! Bad Chloe!
I shook my head before hitting the stairs. No way Max wanted to come all the way out here just to get hit on by Arcadia Bay's least eligible lesbian. Which did bring up the question once again of just why Max would come back. And why now?
Heading back downstairs and to the table, I scooped up my phone and brought it to life. Of course, with Rachel and Frank pretty much the only people I talk to anymore, I didn't have any new messages. I immediately opened up a message to Rachel.
[Chloe]
[yo you're never gonna guess who showed up at my place today]
It didn't even take Rachel two seconds to start typing a response.
[Rachel]
[I'll play along. Who?]
She didn't even try.
Wait. Could she have set this up? Was this her surprise for me?
[Chloe]
[no fucking way. YOU set this shit up? thats gotta be, like the most epic apirl's fools prank of all time!]
[Rachel]
[Wait, what?]
[Chloe]
[you're gonna tell me you didn't set this shit up?]
[Rachel]
[Tell me what's going on, and I may or may not take credit for it.]
[Chloe]
[max fucking caulfield is at my house right now. she says she's here for the whole week]
[Rachel]
[Wait, THE Max Caulfield? The girl who left and never so much as texted you?]
[Chloe]
[that's the one]
[Rachel]
[Oh, I get it. This is your sad attempt at yet another half-assed April Fool's Day prank.]
[Chloe]
[i am not fucking around!]
[Rachel]
[Prove it.]
The urge to throw my phone was, once again, successfully resisted. Okay, Rachel wanted proof. I'd get proof. A pic would be easiest, but with Max in the shower… My mind immediately wandered to just how much Max might hate me if I snuck in and took a picture of her in the shower. Good fucking chance she kind of hated me anyway.
Max's voice rang in my ears, "I will always love you."
Again cursing my brain, I went to plan B. Max always took way too many selfies. And that brown bag sitting by the couch looked like a hella good place to start looking. In a single motion, I launched myself out of the chair and slipped my phone into my back pocket as I headed over to the bag. Sure enough, this was her hipster version of a purse. Her camera was in there, her wallet, her journal, and her phone. She even had a fancy folder-thing in there. Probably her portfolio. I opened that first, but it was all just printouts of old news clippings and internet searches and shit. Nothing I was looking for. Flipping her journal open, I found dozens of Polaroids paper clipped to the pages. I grabbed the first one to catch my eye, and I pulled out my phone to snap a picture. Proof in hand, I threw everything back into the bag before sending the photo to Rachel.
[Rachel]
[That is obviously a picture of a picture]
[Chloe]
[yeah, well max is in the shower. that's the closest to the real thing i'm gonna get right now]
[it's obviously her and she's way older than 13 there. no way i'd have a picture of her like that without her being here]
[Rachel]
[You're serious? The girl you wouldn't stfu about for 3 years is in your house right now?]
[Chloe]
[fucking yes, rachel! right upstairs!]
[Rachel]
[I'll be there in 10. If this is a prank, my revenge will be epic.]
I rolled my eyes as I stowed my phone. So much for me talking through my fucked up feelings. How did telling Rachel that Max was here turn into some kind of fucking challenge? Great, now I just had my own brain to rely on for trying to figure this shit out, and that thing was never any help.
My eyes found their way back over to Max's bag. Of course, there was always a more… cheaty sort of way to figure out just what the hell was going on. I went back to the bag and dug the journal back out.
Just what secrets do you hold, I wonder?
Some small voice in the back of my head warned me that this was a betrayal of Max's trust. That little voice was drowned out by the sound of the shower saying, "You're not gonna get caught."
I flipped it open to the most recent page.
It took me a train, a bus, and a cab, but I made it to Chloe's and the sun's barely even up. Good thing I was able to nap for most of the trip. Somehow, I don't think I had a single nightmare, either. It must be because I'm so stoked to actually see Chloe again. Pretty decent chance my heart's gonna give out when I do see her. I just hope she doesn't hate my worthless ass. She might've forgiven me pretty easily last time, but this time she's got Rachel to lean on. Can't exactly get another opportunity anytime soon to save her life and earn her favor that way either. (At least I hope so!)
"What the hell?" I scratched my head, trying to remember the last time Max saved my life. She didn't. Unless she's counting during some of our childhood games or some shit. And how the fuck did she know about Rachel? Maybe she wrote this after talking to Joyce? It didn't make any sense. I listened to make sure the water was still running before turning back to the journal.
I still can't believe my parents let me come out here so easily. Was that Tobanga's doing? I did ask that I be able to get back to Arcadia Bay whenever I was needed. Joyce was super nice when I came in, too. Made me breakfast and everything. All smiles. Bless that woman. I didn't get a chance to meet David, though. I was hoping to go ahead and give him everything on M.J. and the D.R. but I guess I'll have to wait until tonight. In any case, it gives me a good opportunity to do some more snooping. Just a few internet searches turned up so many red flags about him before he went to Blackwell. How did no one see this coming?
Now that made even less sense. D.R.? M.J.? And just what didn't anyone see coming? Okay, that page was useless, so the obvious thing would be to flip back and read some previous entries. No harm in that, right? Just as I was about to flip back, the sound of running water stopped. "Shit!" I slammed the journal shut and shoved it into Max's bag, before trying to find something to make it look like I wasn't being a total dickhead, messing around in her personal stuff.
I grabbed my half-finished bowl of cereal and took it into the kitchen. I dumped it and threw it in with the rest of the dishes. I actually considered doing the dishes for a minute before I heard the door open. I rushed over to find Rachel coming in. "Rach!" I swung my arms out, but she left me hanging, crossing her arms over her chest.
"So, where is the legendary Missing Max?" she challenged.
I pointed up. "I just heard the water shut off a minute ago, she must be… toweling off…"
My pleasant daydream was interrupted by Rachel backhanding my shoulder. I crashed back to reality to find her scowling at me. "Get your mind out of the gutter."
Shaking my head, I held up my hands. "But that's its home!"
Rachel rolled her eyes at me before heading into the living room. "The luggage is a nice touch." How could she still be skeptical? I watched as she crouched down and opened the oversized suitcase, examining the clothes within. "Okay, and these are definitely not your clothes."
"Check it out," I offered, heading again to the brown bag. I fished out her antique camera, holding it up for Rachel to see. "Only Max would have something like this."
"Wow, does it still work?" Rachel asked. Her hands snatched it away and she danced back. "Strike a pose!" she insisted as she held it up to her face to frame the shot. I just gave her a smirk and flipped off the camera. "Perfect!" The flash went off and Rachel took the Polaroid out, giving it a shake.
Eager to see how it turned out, I headed over and stood next to Rachel. We stared at the black box for a few seconds before it became clear that this was gonna take more patience than either of us had. "Phones work better," I muttered, patting Rachel on the shoulder as I stepped back.
"I don't know," Rachel said as she moved over to the desk to set down the camera and photo. "There is a certain charm to it."
A bit of motion caught my eye, and sure enough, Max was coming down the hall. She was barefoot and her hair was damp, but I'll be damned if her clothes weren't basically the same thing she'd worn before. I couldn't stop my lips from smiling, though. "I think Max here would agree with you," I said, throwing my arm out in Max's direction.
"Who?" Max said as she entered the living room. She turned to find Rachel and I swear her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "R-Rachel!" Physically recoiling away from Rachel, Max actually fell back on her ass. "Rachel Amber!"
Rachel gave her a skeptical sort of half-smile. "I see my reputation precedes me." In the blink of an eye, Rachel was standing over Max, offering out her hand. "And you must be the infamous Max."
"Grand Wallflower of Arcadia Bay," I said. After a second I added, "Formerly."
Max didn't take Rachel's hand right away. Instead, she reached up and tentatively poked at the outstretched hand with a single finger. Rachel, having run out of patience again, grabbed Max's hand and yanked her to her feet. "You weren't kidding," Rachel said as she patted Max's shoulder.
"Max, you okay?" I asked as I stepped closer. Not only did Max look a shade paler than normal, which by the way, was really fucking pale, but Max just seemed to be staring at Rachel with this weird look on her face.
"Y-yeah. Fine," Max muttered. Despite her words, that thousand-yard-stare of hers only seemed to deepen.
Rachel moved away from Max and pushed by me. She grabbed a chair from the table and set it down next to Max. "Here," she said, guiding Max to sit down. Once Max was seated, Rachel swooped back around and crouched down in front of her so that she was eye-level with Max. She spoke, her voice calm and clear. "Listen to the sound of my voice. Can you do that?"
Max gave her a little nod so small, it was almost unnoticeable, especially with the way the rest of her body started to tremble. "What the fuck is going on?" I asked, keeping my voice low. Maybe I didn't get what was going on, but I still got the vibe that yelling would make shit worse.
Rachel fixed me with a glare and motioned for me to back up away from Max. "I'm going to have you breathe with me, okay?"
This time, I wasn't even sure I saw Max nod. But it seemed like Max followed along with Rachel's instructions. It went on for a few minutes before Rachel told Max that she had this and backed away from her. Rachel came over close to me and I leaned in and whispered, "The fuck?"
"She's having a panic attack," Rachel replied. She didn't bother to whisper, but she still kept that sweet calm in her tone.
My mind trailed back to our conversation earlier. She said that she'd royally fucked up. Then my dumb ass rubbed it in. That train of thought derailed as the destination came into view. Someone hurt Max.
"Chloe, keep it together," Rachel said, putting a hand on my arm before gingerly moving it back and forth. "Max doesn't need you going off right now."
Sometimes it was scary how easily she could read me. Though it wasn't like I ever tried to hide my feelings from anyone. Ever. "Max, what happened to you?" I asked, barely able to keep my voice even.
Max slowly shook her head. "I-I think… I'm okay, now," Max said, her voice breathless as she gasped in-between her words. Using the chair for support, Max staggered to her feet. It looked like a small breeze would knock her over. My insides twisted painfully just looking at her like that.
"Max…" I started, but she cut me off with a smile.
"I'm okay now." Max turned to Rachel, though she lowered her eyes so as not to directly look at her. "And thank you, Rachel. That… I really think that helped."
Rachel put on her own dazzling smile. "Just a little something I picked up in California. Had a classmate with frequent panic attacks."
"Panic attack," Max repeated the phrase, her face scrunched up a bit like she was thinking hard about it. "Is that what those episodes are?"
Max's oblivious comment earned her a quizzical look from Rachel. "You didn't know? Was that your first?"
Again giving herself that one-armed hug, Max shook her head. "They've been going on for about a week."
Fuck this.
I stomped over, putting my hands on Max's shoulders. "Max. What happened? Talk to me."
Max's gaze fell all the way to the floor this time. A little shake of her head is all she gave me. Before I could pry further, Rached jerked me away from Max. "What the fuck, Rachel?" I hissed, barely keeping my simmering rage from exploding.
"She needs space right now. Not an interrogation," Rachel's said. She pointed over at her before whispering, "Look at her."
She stood there, unmoving, her head completely hung so that I couldn't see her face at all. "I swear if somebody fucking hurt her," I growled, clenching my fists painfully tight.
Rachel gave me a look that said, "You need to drop this right now."
I sent her a look back that I really hope said, "Fuck that."
Apparently, it didn't. Or, more likely, Rachel just fucking ignored it, because she danced by Max and picked up her camera there at the desk. "We were playing with your camera right before you came in. I hope you don't mind." She pressed the camera into Max's hands before holding out the photograph she took. "What do you think?"
Reverently holding her camera, she looked up at the photo. She smiled. God, Rachel was so good at that. Moreso because I knew I was smiling, too. "It's so… Chloe," Max said. "It's a really good shot, too. Do you study photography at Blackwell?"
Rachel smiled as she gave her head a little shake. "My studies have me on the other side of the lens." A hop over the back of the couch, and she sprung up before falling next to me and slinging an arm around my shoulders. "How's this pose?"
I felt Rachel nudge me, trying to get me to pose with her. Part of me resented her for putting me on the spot like that, but fuck, Max was already in better spirits. If it would help her feel better, I'd do whatever. So I put an arm around Rachel and gave Max a big smile. The camera flashed, and my smile faded away. How could Rachel be better at cheering up Max than me? What the fuck kind of shitty friend did that make me?