Chapter 05: What Does She Even Have to be Guilty About

Max and I went straight to the bathroom once we hit the Two Whales while Rach went to claim our table. After I finished my business, I walked up to the sink next to her. Even with her scrubbing all that time, she didn't even have her arms clean, let alone her face. "You, uh, wanna talk about it?" I asked. Then I added, "Only if you want to. No pressure. Really."

"I just… I knew nothing was there," Max muttered as she continued to splash water over her arms. "I-I can't explain it, but I had to see it. With my own eyes, I had to see that nothing was there."

I didn't have a damn clue what to say to that messed up explanation. Shutting off the water, I flung the excess water into the sink before wiping my hands dry on my jeans. "Max… I…" I shook my head. "Fuck, I screwed up, okay?" I looked over at her, but she kept her attention on trying to get all the dirt out. "I tried to keep in contact harder than you did, sure. But I… I didn't really try at all, did I?"

"What does that say about me?" Max replied, her voice so quiet I barely heard it over the water.

"I'm not… The bad shit that happened to me happened before you left. If I'd been there in Seattle when whatever the fuck this shit is that happened—"

"Shut up!" Max barked, completely disarming me. Again, her words turned quiet, but they held a razor's edge to them, "This… this is all me. All my fault. Don't you dare blame yourself." I heard a sob escape her lips, but she held herself together. "I'll fix it. Everything. And you and Rachel can escape to L.A. like you always dreamed."

"Max…"

"Rachel's waiting for you," she said, and this time I heard the unchecked sobs as she started to fall apart.

It killed me to leave her when she needed me, anyone, to lean on. But she made it clear she wanted to be alone. Resigning, I left the bathroom and went back to our usual booth. "I fucked it up, again," I muttered as I slid in next to Rachel. "Just like I always do."

Her hand rested on my arm, but I refused to look over at her. "What happened?"

"Fuck if I know. I was trying to apologize and she just lit into me." I seethed, staring at the blank table in front of me. "No. She lit into her-fucking-self. What does she even have to be guilty about?"

"That… is a very good question," Rachel replied.

"Well, what do we have here?"

I cringed. This was not the person I wanted to talk to right now. "Hey, Mom," I said, never even looking up.

"Mrs. Madsen," Rachel greeted, her voice having a sultry-sweet tone that Mom had long since learned was completely artificial.

"I have to say I'm more than a little disappointed. I thought for sure you'd be tryin' to patch things up with Max," she said, setting a coffee cup right in front me. "What'll you have, Rachel?"

"Coffee is fine, thanks," Rachel cooed, earning a mug of her own. "And we are trying to get Max to open up. It's… harder than I thought."

I heard a hum of agreement from my mom, and I finally looked up to see her frowning just a bit. "That girl was always so quiet, but I thought for sure Chloe would get her to open up."

"Do you know what's going on with her?" I asked.

She shook her head. "She came in lookin' like a hundred miles of bad road. I knew something was goin' on, but I can't say I got so much as a hint out of her."

"Fuck," I muttered. Even Mom could see there was something off. What could be so bad that Max couldn't even talk about it with me?

"Language," Mom chided. Her hand fell on my shoulder. "But I certainly feel you, Chloe." She then turned to go back to the counter. "I'll bring the pot in a sec."

"I have a really bad idea," Rachel said, her hand landing on my thigh and giving it a squeeze. "You want in?"

I shrugged before leaning over into her. My hand found hers, pulling her fingers between my own. "Better than no idea at all, right?"

"All the charm in the world isn't going to keep Max from hating me if I keep fucking it up," Rachel muttered, her hand squeezing mine.

She rarely showed her vulnerability, let alone spoke it aloud. I nudged her, nuzzling into her neck. "Come on, she likes you. Everyone likes you."

"You like me, Chloe. Most people don't even know me. The real me," Rachel said.

"Shit, you really want her to like you, huh?"

"You're the one that wants the three of us to take over the world together," Rachel replied. "You've been on about it practically since I met you. Now's our chance… if I don't fuck it up."

I sighed, breathing in the scent of her perfume and shampoo. It always changed, but the undertones of weed and smoke never did. "Don't worry about that. I'm sure I'm doing enough fucking up for both of us."

She nudged me with her shoulder. "You always do." As I parted from her, she leaned over and purred in my ear. "And I always love you for it." She gave me a peck on the cheek, which was obscenely chaste for her. I didn't get it until I actually looked away from her to find Max in the booth across from us.

Shit! When did she get there?

I was so lost in Rachel, I didn't even notice that Mom had come back and filled our mugs. "Uh, feeling better?" I asked. A dumb question, I knew, but what the hell else was I supposed to say? I grabbed the coffee and gave it a sip.

"I'm fine. A bit of a headache, but I'm pretty used to that by now," she said. Her eyes dodged mine. I didn't need Rachel's superpowers to know she was hiding shit.

Mom came back and took our orders and got Max a coffee, too. I might've been struggling for something to say, but as always, Rachel's silver tongue never failed. "I was thinking of a new game we could play," she said, putting on a big smile for Max.

"I'm not so sure the last one went so well," Max said, her eyes trailing over to me and back to Rachel.

"It's all about getting to know each other better," Rachel said. This time, she gave her head a little shake to corral her hair before tucking it behind her ear with a delicate finger. If I didn't know better, I'd say she was flirting with Max. Fuck. Or trying to make Max feel comfortable so she'd go along with it. "This game, you can always just say that's it and not play anymore, okay?"

Max's shoulders slumped and she nodded. "Okay."

Rachel winked at Max. "Don't worry, you'll totally lose to Chloe and me on this one." Her weight rested on her arms and she leaned over the table. "Okay, this will be a nice, quick game. Super easy, too. Each of us will go around and confess to a crime we've committed. It has to be something you actually did, and it has to be as bad as or worse than the last person's. But you don't have to give any details, just name the crime." Straightening back up, Rachel smiled. "I'll go first with the most innocent of all crimes—loitering." She motioned toward Max. "Max?"

"Um… Jaywalking?"

I spun the half-empty coffee cup in my hands. "What about parking tickets? Worse than jaywalking?"

"Parking tickets are the consequence of the crime, not the crime," Rachel said. "And yes, parking violations trump jaywalking. My next one is smoking pot."

"Shoplifting?"

"Buying pot," I said, smirking over at Rachel.

"Selling pot," she retorted.

Max shuffled a bit. "Does breaking and entering win?"

I looked over and Rachel nodded. "We'll give it to you," I said. "But seriously? Breaking and entering? You?"

"I thought there weren't going to be questions?" Max shot back.

"Okay, okay. Fine." I tossed my long list of crimes around in my head. I never had to actually organize them before based on severity. Fuck, how was I not in jail right now? "Uh, breaking and entering… into the DA's office."

"Yeah, you went into my dad's office. You terrible criminal!" Rachel teased me.

"Okay, fine." I crossed my arms over my chest as I leaned back and glared at Rachel. "Destroying state's evidence."

"Assault and battery," Rachel said.

Max fidgeted. It made me wonder if she was out of worse crimes or if we just made her super uncomfortable with all the shit we actually did. "Does making a bomb count as worse?"

"A fucking bomb?" I said, probably a little too loud. Straightening up, I looked around the diner, and thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed. "Seriously?"

"It was the breaking part of breaking and entering," Max replied.

"Holy shit, you set it off?" Rachel asked.

"Okay, bomb totally fucking wins," I said.

Rachel nudged me. "Yeah, now you get to try to beat Little Miss Unabomber over here."

"Please," I smirked. "Grand larceny."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "You really think you stealing ten grand trumps setting off a bomb?"

"It doesn't?" Max asked.

My smirk grew wider. "Two against one."

"Still haven't forgiven you for letting that money get away," Rachel said. Then, she gave a big, long sigh. "You know, I really didn't think you'd still be in the game long enough for this, but my biggest crime—so far—is arson."

Max didn't miss a beat. "Grand theft auto."

"You stole a car?" I asked.

Max shrugged. "Extenuating circumstances."

"Fuck," I muttered. Scratching at my scalp, I tried to think of something that could beat that. "Uh, accessory to murder?"

"Nope. Bullshit," Rachel shot me down. Turning to me, she tapped a finger on the table. "That is not how that went down."

"How about accessory after the fact? I mean, guy's dead, I know who did it. Never said shit. And I kind of was… you know, there." That gave Rachel pause. Then, she gave a little nod that let me know that one was acceptable.

Rachel held up her hands as she turned back to Max. "I'm already out," she said. "Guess that means Chloe wins Arcadia Bay's biggest bad award unless you think you can top that."

Max's eyes met mine with an expression I couldn't read. Licking her lips, she cast a glance over at Rachel before shrugging. "Murder."

I know it took me a solid twenty seconds for my brain to reboot and for me to close my mouth. "You're lying… right?" Tearing my eyes away from Max, I found Rachel with the same dumbfounded expression I'm sure I had. Okay. Not lying. "M-Max, you're a pacifist!"

Her eyes were downcast, and her expression unreadable. "Yeah. I am."

"Is everythin' okay?" Mom asked as she showed up with our plates.

I turned my eyes to Max. "They will be. I promise."

"Yeah," Rachel joined in. "Whatever it takes."

We waited for Mom to leave, then I leaned in toward Max. "Do you need our help?" I asked. "Like, hide a body, or… Shit! Do you have like, warrants or some shit?"

"What? N-no," Max shook her head. "Nothing like that. It's just… It's a fact I have to live with."

"Max," Rachel reached across the table, putting a hand on top of Max's. "It was just supposed to be a game. I had no idea. I'm sorry."

Max didn't look up at her. "It… needed to be said."

Our conversation from this morning haunted me.

"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?"

I felt like the world's biggest jackass. Even Step-ass couldn't touch my levels of fuckery. And with all that, the fact that Max actually killed someone, and it still wasn't her biggest regret. Just how does not talking to a piece of shit like me even compare to that?

I had to take a mental step back before I fell into that quicksand trap. Okay, Max was a pacifist, through and through. She would never hurt someone unless it was to protect someone. I refused to accept any other answer. That made her like Frank. Frank killed Damon to protect me and Rachel. I couldn't fault him for that. He had to have some solace in knowing that. Maybe Max was just trying to rationalize her actions. That made way more sense.

"Chloe? You gonna eat?"

I shook my head to see Max staring at me. "Uh, yeah." The rest of the meal was held in uncomfortable silence. After all that, Max insisted on picking up the bill. It just made me feel like more of an asshole.

We piled back in the truck, and I was so painfully sober that I retook my spot behind the wheel. Though, this time, Rachel took the middle seat. I put the key in the ignition, but I didn't turn it. Sighing, I leaned forward to look over at Max. "Hey. What can we do to help you? Seriously, Max. Name it."

Max fidgeted, before hunching over a bit and putting up her Max Armor, crossing a single arm over her chest as she held her arm with her hand. "Let's… can we just go back to American Rust? Hang out? Have fun?"

"Are you sure?" Rachel asked her. She placed a hand on Max's back and slowly traced circles there. "I know I… kind of keep fucking up our games."

Rachel really was trying. I joined in, "Is that what you really want, Max? We can party it up, but don't force yourself just for our sakes."

"Rachel, your games… you're just trying to help fill in the gaps I left between Chloe and me. For us to get to know each other. Really know each other." Max dropped her armor, her hands gripping her knees. "That's what I want. Even if it hurts. I want… I want to trust you enough to tell you everything."

"Okay," I said, nodding as I turned the engine over. "American Rust it is."