Chapter 02: Cigs and Gas

"...And this is our grand escape vehicle," I said as I slapped the hood of my old junker. I couldn't help but give a proud smile as I leaned against the old clunker. "Fixed it up myself."

Max nodded a bit as she smiled. "So we're walking, then?"

I rolled my eyes and mock-laughed at her. "She might be ugly, but she gets the job done."

Rachel nudged Max. "Yeah, we never got stranded out by the woods and had to sleep in the freezing cab all night or anything."

Max giggled as they rounded to the other side. Despite the two of them ganging up on me, I just couldn't help but smile. "Yuk it up," I said, throwing open the door and climbing in. "Without Old Reliable here, we'd all be taking the bus."

I noticed that Rachel let Max in first, giving her the middle seat. Part of me was kind of sad that I wouldn't get to cuddle with Rach, but that was probably a smart move on Rachel's part. It would be hella awkward for Max. I still hadn't told her I'm gay. Probably needed to bring that up sooner or later.

"So, American Rust?" I asked as I turned the engine over. It sputtered and resisted but finally started up.

"Beach first," Rachel insisted. "I already told Frank we were coming."

I wanted to yell at Rachel, but I settled for giving her a glare. This was so unlike her. Rachel was super good at reading people. Superpowers levels of reading people. But she was way off-base thinking Max'd be cool with us buying drugs for our week of debauchery. Of course, Rachel just returned my glare with a little smile and a nod.

No. It is so not cool.

I seethed the whole ten-minute drive down to the shitty section of the beach. Well, I seethed while scrambling to come up with a plan. By the time we got there, this was it: "Soooo, Max. Me and Rach are gonna go, uh, talk to Frank. You mind hanging back here?"

Max didn't look up at me. "I… uh, yeah." She pulled up her bag and pulled something out before handing it to me.

In my hand were two twenty-dollar bills. "Max, what…?"

Still, she refused to look over at me. I heard her mutter something, but I couldn't make it out.

"She said Xanax," Rachel said as she grabbed her backpack and opened her door.

I just stared at the money in my hand, not able to put two and two together. Next to me was my childhood friend. I was sure I knew her. Everything about her. Five years was a long time. Here I thought we could just pick up and everything might just go back to how it was. Of course, I was wrong. Why wouldn't I be? I guess it was more like we were meeting each other all over again.

"Come on!" Rachel yelled at me, already halfway to Frank's RV.

One last lingering glance at Max, still sitting there with her head hung low, and I got out and started after Rachel. I managed to catch up to her just as she got to the RV. "How the fuck did you do that?" I hissed as we rounded the RV.

"Do what?" she asked me, putting on a face that almost made me believe she didn't know what I was talking about. Almost.

I motioned back toward the truck. "How did you know Max was gonna be okay with this?"

She winked back at me with a sexy smirk. "I didn't. I just figured if she found out what we were up to, she wouldn't narc on her best friend since forever." A pause and her face scrunched up a bit. "Did you tell her what we were doing?"

I shook my head. "No, I thought you did."

"Something I can help you ladies with?"

We both looked up to find Frank stepping out of his RV. Rachel shrugged off her backpack and took Max's forty bucks as well as my eighty and threw them in the pack. "What we agreed on, plus however much Xanax a couple of twenties will get us," Rachel said as she held out the pack to Frank.

"Xanax, huh?" Frank asked, raising an eyebrow. "Not exactly the usual order for you two."

Rachel thumbed over in my direction. "Got a friend in town. She's got her own tastes." To seal the deal, Rachel gave him one of her best smiles. "Hook a girl up?"

Frank gave a little nod as he turned back to the RV. "Gimme 5 minutes." And just like that, he disappeared back into that same shitty RV he's been driving for years.

"So how the fuck did Max know we were scoring?" I muttered, leaning against the side of the RV.

Rachel gave a little shrug. "You know Max better than me."

"Maybe she snooped around in my room when I wasn't looking?" I guessed, closing my eyes and imagining what Max's face might've looked like seeing my room for the first time. My eyes snapped back open as a random "Fuck!" left my lips. "My phone! I left it downstairs."

A little frown touched Rachel's lips as her face scrunched up. "You really think she can unlock it?"

I pulled up my phone to the lock screen. Flashing back, I remembered getting my first phone with a passcode. It was like, two phones ago, but Max and I were thrilled with it. When it came time to come up with a passcode, we agreed that I would use her birthday, and when she got one like it, she'd use mine for hers. "Damn it! She would've gotten it on the first try."

"Seriously?" Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." I nodded. "She was there when I set my passcode for my first phone."

Rachel frowned again. "And you never changed it, because of course, you didn't."

Before I could retort, the door burst open. Frank threw the backpack at Rachel and she caught it effortlessly. Tumbling the pack over in her hands, she pulled the zipper and fumbled around inside. She turned and nodded at me, letting me know everything was square. "Thanks, Frank," I said as I turned, waving over my shoulder at him.

We walked back to the truck in silence as my thoughts again turned to Max. I could barely see her in there with the glare on the windshield. Things were adding up, and I didn't like the fucking answer. She said fucked up shit happened. She had a panic attack. And now, apparently, she wanted a chemical escape. No way this is just her coping in a big city or her regular aversion to social situations. Something, no someone, fucking hurt her.

By the time I got back into the driver seat, my rage had returned with a vengeance. With Max still sitting there, I just couldn't find any words. I just closed the door and started the engine.

Rachel, of course, never had a problem with words. "Here you go," she said in a chipper tone that grated me. I turned to see her handing Max a baggie with yellow pills in it.

Max accepted it. I think I heard her give a quiet "thanks" as she fished one of the pills out. She brought it to her lips and bit off a piece, swallowing it dry. The rest of the pill went back into the baggie and that went into her bag.

"You're not gonna get stoned just taking a little piece," Rachel said as she stuffed the backpack into the floor at her feet. "Not without a bunch of alcohol, anyway."

"I'm not trying to get stoned," Max said, her voice finally strong enough for Chloe to hear her clearly. "I can't stand that feeling of… I can't stand it."

Rachel's mask slipped a bit as her brow furrowed. Her gorgeous hazel eyes seemed to bore into Max, and I know she was using her superhuman expression reading to gauge Max. "So what, you forgot your Xanax prescription in Seattle?"

"Something like that. It helps with the episodes," Max muttered. Even I knew that was a lie. No way Rachel missed it.

I put the truck in gear and took off. "Old Reliable here needs some fuel," I said, drawing attention away from Max. Couldn't really place the reason why, but I knew Max was uncomfortable. Hell, I was uncomfortable. But I didn't know. I guess somehow I felt better that Max at least wasn't trying to get fucked up. Still, an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. "I'm gonna stop at the nearest gas station. How are we on smokes?"

I felt Rachel's eyes on me. She totally fucking knew I was changing the subject on purpose. At least she played along, taking the time to dig out her pack and commented something along the lines of having just enough for today. Which wasn't gonna be anywhere near enough today because I knew I had all of four cigarettes in my pack. I wasn't gonna last until noon. Well, with a new weed supply, I might've made it stretch into the afternoon. I'd still be bumming cigarettes off Rachel by the end of the day. "Okay," I finally said after some time, "so we need cigs and gas. I'm thinking we should throw in a bunch of beer and some snacks."

A glance over showed me that Rachel's mischievous smile was back in full force. "Sounds like a perfect plan."

Max, on the other hand, had again lowered her gaze, keeping her face from my eyes. Was she ashamed about the whole Xanax thing? Or was her shame from some other, far more sinister cause? I felt my grip on the wheel tighten as I ground my teeth. Deep down, I knew Rachel was right. Max needed space, and she would open up. That logical part of my brain was shoved aside by my rage and concern. "Max, seriously, what's got you so down?"

Her reply was meek, and her wavering voice and words broke my heart, "Do you think less of me?"

My jaw sawed from one side to the other as my mind tried to come up with an answer that wouldn't fucking destroy her. Somehow the word "no" couldn't find my tongue. First time that shit ever happened. I sighed. "Max, I meant it when I said you were better than me."

Max just hunched over further. "Chloe, don't… You're so smart. You were always smarter than me. And you're brave, and funny, and you're so fucking beautiful—you're better than me. I'm just this plain, stupid, chickenshit of a wannabe photographer. I don't deserve you."

At first, my heart swelled, reaching a peak at the word "beautiful," but when she started getting down on herself, all those good feelings got torn away by a miasma of hate and anger. "Don't you fucking talk about yourself like that!" I snapped at her. Just as I needed to pull off the road, a gas station appeared. I threw the truck into the lot and turned to Max. "Don't…"

My words fell away as I found her face, so red I could barely see her freckles and wet streaks down both her cheeks. "You don't… understand. I'm just a… a complete and total fuckup!"

Before I could even think about it, I had my arm wrapped around her. Words always came so easy when I wanted to cut someone down. But seeing Max like this, I couldn't think of anything other than, "Please, don't cry."

"We want to help you," Rachel chimed in, her own hand falling on Max's knee. "Maybe you could tell us so we could understand."

Max just shook her head as she buried her face in her hands. We stayed together like that for what felt like an hour, though in reality, it was probably only a couple of minutes. Max got her crying under control and slowly leaned back up. She pulled a tissue from her bag to wipe her face and blow her nose.

My rage cooling to a violent simmer, I put the truck in gear before throwing my arm around Max again. I pulled the truck up to the pump and parked it. If I couldn't break something to soothe my anger, at least I could distract myself from it. "We doing this, Rach?"

Rachel grabbed her pack. She dumped the contents into the glove compartment. Two bags of weed, one bigger than the other, an eight ball, and two baggies of pills—probably oxys and maybe some E? "Lets—"

"Don't!" Max was looking up at me. Gone were her tears and her cheeks were dry. "You're going to get caught."

Putting on my best, most confident smirk I said, "Maxipad, you don't even know what we're doing."

"You two are going to try to shoplift, and you're going to get caught. So don't," she said, looking between me and Rachel.

Rachel smiled at her. "We know what we're doing. We've done it plenty of times before." When Rachel opened the door to leave, Max grabbed her wrist.

"Fine… just… Let me do it then," Max said to Rachel. "I won't get caught."

Rachel's smile faded away, replaced by a hard stare. "You're lying."

Max sighed. "Okay, I'll get away with it, you won't."

I watched as Rachel's eyebrow curiously rose and she studied Max's face. Then, she smirked. "Okay, Hot Stuff. Show us how it's done." She tossed her backpack at Max before hopping out.

Scooting over and stumbling out, I saw Max wrap her arm around herself as she breathed a deep breath in and out in that same way she always did when I dragged her along to something she wasn't confident about. This… was gonna end badly. "Max, you have to prove anything," I said. "Just let me and Rach—"

"No," Max cut me off, finally turning back to me to give me a glare. As soon as her eyes met mine, it softened. "Just… give me two minutes, then go in and order your cigarettes, but tell him you forgot your I.D. if he asks. You know, distract him."

"Max…"

"Two minutes!" Max said as she started off toward the station.

I watched her go, donning the backpack before entering the station. "What the fuck was that?" Rachel asked as she hopped back into the cab, leaving the door wide open.

"What're we gonna do? She's gonna get fucking caught!" I said, barely able to take my eyes off the door Max disappeared through.

"She did say she'd get away with it," Rachel replied. She stretched out, letting her legs dangle out the open door as her head rested in my lap. Automatically, my hands found their way to her hair, straightening out the little bits that slipped free.

"You said she lied," I accused, my fingertips tracing from the edge of her ear along the side of her face and finally finding those luscious lips of hers.

She grabbed my hand, pulling it down to kiss my knuckles. "She lied about getting caught, not about getting away with it.".

"How the fuck is she going to get away with it if she gets caught?"

"Now that—" Rachel sat up, though her hand still held mine "—is the real question."

A bit of movement caught my eye, and I looked over to see a police cruiser pulling up on the opposite side of the pump. "Oh, fuck!" I hissed. "We gotta get Max outta there!"

"Leave it to me," Rachel said as she got out again.

In the pit of my stomach, I felt a cold, painful churning. As much as I wanted to be the one to save Max, Rachel was definitely better at handling people than me. "Should we both?" I asked.

Rachel shook her head, sending a pointed look past me. I got the message. It would raise too much suspicion. I cursed myself and my luck. How could it possibly be that a cop would show up at just this moment?

The door closed, and I was alone with my thoughts. A glance over at the cop was out of the question. So I had to occupy myself with what was in the cab. That's when I saw it. Max's bag. She left it when she went in. Inside was her journal. A journal that could tell me everything that was going on with her. Was now really the time? What if they needed me? I tore my attention away from the bag to look out at the gas station. Not like I was any use here.

I opened the bag and fished out the journal. It fell open to the most recent page. There was something new. She must've written it while Rachel and I were making the buy.

I finally met Rachel Amber. All the stories didn't do her justice, nor did the photos. She's a real force of nature. Of course, the instant I saw her, I had a flashback to the only other time I saw Rachel, complete with the smell. I almost threw up right there. To top it off, that triggered another episode, which is apparently a panic attack according to Rachel. She even knew how to make it feel like I wasn't suffocating. That breathing technique did way better than the Xanax. After that she showed me a picture she took of Chloe. It was spectacular, and she doesn't even study photography! She even had me take a picture of her and Chloe. I can't even begin to describe it. Just how amazing and full of life Rachel is. I'm so glad she was there for Chloe. Chloe deserves that kind of happiness, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let fate take her away from Chloe again.

Just like last time, this entry made no sense. How had Max seen Rachel before? There was some kind of smell and it triggered that panic attack? The most concerning thing was that last bit.

Take Rachel away?

I glanced up, and my heart leapt into my throat as I threw the journal back into the bag.

Max!

Head downcast just a bit, Max headed my way. The backpack on her shoulders looked way more full than when she left. I couldn't believe it. And, sure enough, by the time Max got to the truck, Rachel was coming out of the store, too.

Stomping down the remnants of my fear and guilt, I put on a smirk. "How'd it go?" I asked as Max opened the door.

"I won't do it again," Max said, glaring at me. She dropped the backpack into the floorboard and I heard the rattle of glass bottles. Then she sent a look over at the cop fueling up his cruiser. "Listen to me next time."

I was about to ask her about how she could've known that cop was gonna show up, but the truck lurched as Rachel got in. "I put in ten bucks for this old clunker," she said before slapping a hand on Max's shoulder. "I guess you were right about not getting caught."

As much as I wanted to stay and talk to Max and Rachel, I also didn't want to give that cop a reason to stick around and give us trouble. So I kicked open my door as I heard Max give Rachel a halfhearted response. Of course, as soon as I started pumping, the cop took off, leaving me by myself. Couldn't hear a damn thing from the cab, either.

After filling up with enough gas for a few days, I got back in the cab and instantly Rachel gushed, "We have got to take this girl shopping!"

"I told you, I'm not doing it again," Max said, her head turning toward Rachel.

Rachel paid her no mind. "Check it out." She held up various snacks. "Chips, doughnuts, jerky…" A smile crept on my lips to see Rachel so excited. And Max may have been blushing, but she was totally smiling, too. "A couple of bottles of water, four forties, a six pack, and… What the fuck? How!"

Something flew at me, and I barely managed to catch it. It was a pack of cigarettes. My brand, too. I looked past Max to see Rachel holding a pack of her own brand. Her eyes were wide in amazement. "I saw the clerk put these back. How the fuck did you manage to nab these?"

Max shook her head. It was at that point that I realized she had a tissue over her mouth and nose. "You okay?" I asked as I put a hand on Max's shoulder, trying to pull her around to face me.

"Just a nosebleed," Max mumbled through the tissue. "It happens a lot. Headaches, too."

Just like that, all the good vibes vanished again. My jaw clenched tight to keep my tongue from wagging again and making things worse. Max never had headaches or nosebleeds before. Just what the fuck was going on with her? Pushing down those thoughts, I tried to focus on something, anything else. "Let's… let's get the fuck outta here." I put the truck in gear and headed out toward American Rust. "And Max, this—" I pointed over at my pack "—was hella awesome."