"I think I'd just rather take the F, honestly. Like, how bad could it really hurt my grade?" Courtney fell back onto the lockers, crossing her arms with a look of annoyance. "Who even made Stat? Whose bright idea was that!?"
"I think it's just a naturally occurring thing," Max said, closing her locker. "Statistics exist in nature, we're just studying it." Courtney tilted her head back, offering a look of disgust. "Hey, I agree with you, math sucks, just offering perspective."
"Well," Courtney said, tapping her heel on the ground, "I want it to die in a fire. A chemical fire. I keep trying to get someone to tutor me but no one will answer!" She thought for a moment, a small smile creeping on her face. "How's Warren at math?"
"Oh, he's pretty much a genius at school. Like 4.0 for days." She narrowed her eyes. "Wait. No, Courtney."
"You never let me have any fun!" She pouted. "Fine," she huffed, "I'll just fail forever and be stuck in some weird Blackwell time loop. I'll be eighty-three taking classes, hitting on all the cute boys. Maybe they'll help me cross the street."
"You're ridiculous," Max laughed, leaning her shoulder against the locker. "Fine, I'll run the idea by him, but he's a busy guy so don't be surprised if he doesn't have the time." Courtney smirked and looped a finger in the collar of her shirt, tugging it downward to expose some of her chest.
"Oh, I can be persuasive," she said, cocking an eyebrow. Max reached over and lightly slapped her on the top of the head. "Ow!" She winced and slowly rubbed her head. "Fine, fine, I'll behave. Stop smiting me." Courtney glanced at her phone and scowled. "Ew, time for next class. I'll catch you later, Max." She took a reluctant, deep breath, then bounded down the hall.
It's still weird that Courtney comes up to ME to start friendly conversation. Man, some things are just hard to get used to.
Max suddenly felt two arms drape over her shoulders from behind, along with a head clonking onto her shoulder. Craning her neck, all she could see was a beanie and shaggy brown hair exploding from beneath it. She smirked and rolled her eyes.
"Hey, Trevor."
"Maaaax," he said, his voice light and airy. "What it is?"
"It's good, dude." She reached a hand to her shoulder and gently patted his head. "Your legs not workin'?"
"What even are legs, right?" He asked, removing his head from her shoulder and straightening his posture. "Weird bottom arms." He seemed to realize the ridiculousness of his statement and grinned. "Welp, that hit me quicker than I thought it would. Anyway, you and Chloe coming to this double date thing tonight?"
"We are," Max laughed, finally turning to face him.
"Rad. Dana's really excited about it. You know how she gets." He looked down the hall and smiled. "Yo, I'm gonna go get a surprise piggyback ride from Justin. Laters, dude, see you tonight." He put a finger to his lips, signaling Max to be quiet, and began creeping down the hall. She watched with a smile as he picked up speed, finally launching himself into the air and onto Justin's back. As expected, they both tumbled to the ground, with Trevor bursting into laughter. She shook her head, then turned, her eyes traveling up the flight of stairs. She worked her lip between her teeth in thought.
I guess I might as well get this over with.
Max slowly scanned the room, analyzing the paintings that hung on the walls of the office. They seemed to range between 'sunny meadow full of wildflowers' to 'sullen family crying over a...watermelon?' She squinted, leering closer.
What the hell is that?
"So, Max," the woman said, pulling the girl's attention back to the present. "What brings you here today?"
"Oh, uh, I kind of got some encouragement from friends to come here. Just to mention that I have some problems with anxiety and...focusing I guess." She frowned as the woman began to scribble on her notepad.
"I see," she said, looking back up at Max. "Have there been any external reasons for your increase in anxiety lately?"
Yeah. I can rearrange the fabric of reality. I saw countless people die, sometimes more than once. The artist I idolized drugged me and strapped me to a chair while he took fucked up photos. And now I get nosebleeds anytime the wind hits me the wrong way. So, yeah.
"Not really," Max said, rubbing her hand on her thigh. "Just the usual, I guess."
"When do you most feel anxious?" The counselor bent forward, resting her chin on her fist.
"Um, I'm not very good with crowded rooms. Or just talking to people...I guess I'm getting a little better at it, but it's still uncomfortable." She scowled as she listened to herself talk.
This was such a bad idea. I can't be specific enough to actually get help. Great job, Max.
"Well," the woman said, tapping her pen on the desk, "anxiety is very common, there's no need to feel ashamed." She pulled the notepad closer to her and rested the tip of her pen on it. "Have you ever experienced panic attacks?"
"Yes, actually," Max said. "I mean, I think so."
"Could you describe them?"
"Uh, sure..." She closed her eyes. "Mostly it just feels like I'm being crushed. Or like my chest is. It's really hard to breathe. I get lightheaded and kind of clammy, like I'm going to throw up."
"Go on," the counselor insisted.
"Um, I dunno." Max waved her hands around. "It just feels like death is...coming?" She felt a chill rush through her spine, perhaps touching too close to a nerve. "Like, from that Vergil poem, you know? Death twitches my ear..." She took a deep breath. "I don't know," she said. "Just feels like the end of the world."
"That sounds pretty severe, Max." The woman looked down the bridge of her nose, over the lenses of her glasses. She gave Max a reassuring, small smile, then wrote some more notes.
"Yeah, I guess it is," she said quietly.
"Well," the counselor said, "unfortunately I can't prescribe you any medication, but I do think you need it if it's as bad as you say. You should look into seeing a doctor." She slowly removed her glasses, setting them on the desk. "What I can offer you is a coping technique. It's called grounding...would you like to give it a try?"
"Uh, sure," Max said, feeling a familiar tightness in her throat.
"So grounding," the woman said, spreading out sheets of paper in front of her, "is just a thought exercise to help keep you in the present."
"The present..." Max repeated.
"It's quite easy to do once you think about it," she said encouragingly. "What you need to do is find something to focus on. Latch onto. Keep yourself tethered to the here and now. You know," she said with a smile, waving her hand, "ground yourself." She let out a chuckle. "It's really just a fancy way of saying distract yourself."
Like Chloe and Warren did the night of the storm... Okay, maybe there's something here.
"What's wonderful about this," the woman said, "is that there's practically an infinite number of ways to do it. You get to pick which is most helpful for you. For instance," she began to write on a blank piece of paper, "you can jot down vague questions that have particular interests for you. Something simple and generic, but enough to make you think." She glanced up at Max with a smile. "You're a budding photography master, right? So think of this..." She held the paper up, revealing the question 'what are your five favorite things to photograph during each season?'
"That's tough," Max said, tapping her fingers on the bottom of her chair. "I don't know, I guess with fall, I really like Halloween, so seeing all the different spooky decorations can provide some really good shots." She scrunched her lips in thought. "Of course, the leaves are beautiful, at least on the trees around here that actually change." She suddenly stopped and looked at the woman. "Oh," she said with a smile. "That's clever."
"It is clever!" The counselor exclaimed. "It's very effective for many people. You could do anything, really. Say you're in the car, not driving but in the passenger's seat. You could count the lines in the road, or the billboards if you're on the highway." She held her arms out. "Anything to distract yourself from the anxiety." She pulled open a drawer in her desk and searched around, pulling out a new stack of index cards. She held them out for Max. "Here," she said, "make flash cards of questions and carry some in your purse. If it feels like it's getting bad, take one out and try to answer it."
"Thanks," she said, taking the cards. "This is kind of cool."
"It is," the woman responded. "Now, if you want to talk about your focus issues... I see in your file here that you're an IEP kid?"
"Sorry, what?" Max asked, giggling. The woman narrowed her eyes, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "Ah, sorry," she said, scrunching her nose. "You probably hear that joke a lot, huh?"
"All the time," she responded, finally letting go of a chuckle.
"So basically," Max mumbled as she chewed her sandwich, "I just gotta come up with weird questions for these index cards." Chloe sat across from her on the carpet of her room, her legs crossed beneath her. She held a hand out, with Max instantly handing her a napkin. "It's called grounding or something," she said after she swallowed.
"Yeah," Chloe said, "I do that. Rachel told me about it one time when I was freaking."
"Really?" Max asked. "What do you do?"
"Eh, I dunno, different stuff," she replied, shrugging. "I used to keep a pebble in my pocket and I'd just feel it and try to describe to myself how it felt. I even drew a little face on it." She glanced to the side in thought. "It was cute. I miss that pebble. Kinda...threw it at the junkyard once and never found it." She set her paper plate down in front of her, twisting her arms behind her to stretch. "My new one is, uh, a little embarrassing."
"What is it?" She asked. "Seriously, taking all suggestions."
"Well, unless you keep a compact on you, I don't think you can do it," she lightly laughed. "I uh, count your freckles."
"What!?" Max shrieked, her face turning pink. She clapped her hands to her cheeks. "No way, my freckles are weird."
Nooooooo stop Chloe, you butt.
"They're beautiful," the punk responded. "And I'm a big bundle of nerves, so I do it pretty frequently." She grinned. "I watch you while you sleep, Caulfield," she said in a creepy voice, wiggling her fingers. Max seemed to think it over, then shrugged.
"Meh," she said, "you're like my guardian angel anyways." Chloe narrowed her eyes as her lips drew taut.
"You know what?" She said, her tone irritated. "I'm real sick of you constantly out adorable-ing me, dude. Always the fucking silver medal over here."
"Silver's nice," Max said cheerily, taking a sip of her drink. "Gold can be gaudy, you know?" She thought for a moment and leaned forward, placing her hand over Chloe's. "Hey, uh...are you okay? I know you've been trying to be strong for me, but are you okay?" Chloe closed one eye, tilting her head toward the ceiling.
"I'm okay," she said. "I mean, as okay as I can be, right? After dying a few times, losing a close friend, traveling through time, getting shot and watching the love of my life constantly look like an advertisement for Shark Week..." She shrugged. "It's tough but...so am I. Gotta be the strong one."
That's not fair...
"I don't like that," Max said quietly. "I don't want you to hide your feelings just because I'm dealing with stuff."
"Well," Chloe said with a smile, "I mean, my style is usually the 'let it build up until you explode' kind, so eventually I'll probably just shit my pants and go blind." Max scowled at her. "Babe, I'm kidding." The punk squeezed her hand. "I'm okay, promise. I'll let you know if it gets too bad. Promise."
"Kay..." Max quietly agreed. She regarded Chloe and smirked. "Love of your life, huh?"
"Yup!" Chloe said, grinning brightly. "Why, you got a problem with that title?"
"Hell no," Max laughed. "I just like hearing it." She whipped the stack of index cards around for a moment before pulling the cellophane off of them. "Wanna help me make some questions? They're supposed to be kind of simple but make you think. So no 'yes or no' questions."
"Sure," Chloe said, flopping backwards onto the floor. "First question – what's your favorite Pokemon of each type?"
"Dang dude, that's a good one!" Max excitedly scribbled it down on a card. "That would take me hours to figure out."
Well, duh, Bulbasaur for grass, Absol for dark, Eevee for normal...
"Such a nerd," Chloe laughed. "Anyway, question two – if you could combine two superheroes together to get a mix of their powers, who would you pick?" She enthusiastically slammed her hand on the carpet. "And then do that for villains and imagine their fight!"
Why wouldn't you just mix Deadpool with Gambit? Invincible guy that explodes things but has a sexy Cajun accent? That sounds sick.
"Mentally write fanfiction, got it," Max giggled, writing it down. "What else?" Chloe 'hmm'd' as she sat up, spreading her legs provocatively.
"Okay, question tres – what are your top five sexual fantasies and do they include whips and silk restraints?" She wiggled her eyebrows. "Or whipped cream and strawberries. Or like, fuck, one of those cool, bouncy sex swings that-"
"Chloe," Max interrupted, giving her a stern look.
"Sorry, sorry," the blue haired girl laughed. "Maybe I'm projecting?" Max shook her head with a smile, before blushing and quickly jotting something down. "Hey!" Chloe shouted, lurching forward. "Did you actually write that down!?"
"No!" Max protested, holding the cards away from the punk. "No! I didn't! Stop trying to look!" She kicked a leg out, planting the bottom of her foot on Chloe's face to stop her advancements.
"You tryin' to get into that Fifty Shades shit, ya little freak?" Chloe squealed, reaching out for Max. After a moment of frantic whiffs at the air, she stopped, but stayed with the girl's foot on her face. Max recoiled, pulling her foot away.
"Did you just lick my sock!?" She asked, laughing with a hint of disgust. "That was so weird!"
"So I guess saliva socks aren't going to be on your list," Chloe giggled, sitting back on her butt. "Good to know, I guess." It was quiet for a moment, with the two looking into each others' eyes. Then Max noticed Chloe was silently mouthing something, her eyes darting all over the brunette's face.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"Countin'," the punk replied. "I'm up to twenty-six." Max gasped and hid her face behind her hands. "Hey, don't do that! What the fuck, dude!" The brunette slowly lowered her hands, but Chloe huffed dramatically. "Lame, I lost count."
"Really?" Max asked. "Guess you should get a closer angle..."
"I mean, I can see pretty clear from here," she responded. She cackled when Max began to pout. "I'm fucking with you. Come here, sexy."
"That's more like it," Max purred, crawling toward Chloe. She stopped and snickered, looking beneath her. "This rug has gotten way more action than my bed."
"Keep calm and suck my goddamn face off," Chloe quipped, reaching out for the girl and pulling her into a hug. Max situated herself so she was sitting in her lap, facing toward her. She leaned in close so their noses touched.
"Hey you," she said quietly.
"Helloooo nurse," Chloe responded. She smiled wide. "So, how's it going?"
"Oh, you know..." Max said, playfully rolling her eyes. "Times are tough. I keep waiting for this uber sexy girl to take my shirt off but I just don't know if she's really getting the message."
"That is tough," Chloe agreed, shaking her head sympathetically. "Well, I dunno, maybe you could be more direct. Maybe this sexy girl is totally fucking dense and needs a big, flashing billboard to really drive the point home." She shrugged. "Could be, you know?"
"Could be..." Max whispered, slowly moving forward until their lips met. "I guess I could afford to spell it out for her, if she needs it." She swooped in again, stealing another soft, long kiss. She pulled back, grinning as Chloe's eyes flickered with that sleepy, just-been-kissed glaze. "I kind of have you wrapped around my finger, huh?" She asked, slowly sneaking a hand behind Chloe's neck.
"You have no fucking idea," Chloe rasped, tilting her head as Max began to massage her neck. "I am utterly yours to mold as you wish." Max's eyes grew wide as she smiled deviously.
"Really?" She bit her bottom lip, looking over the punk in front of her. "Then...um, I don't have a billboard or anything, but," she leaned in close to the girl's ear, "take my fucking shirt off."
"Oh wow," Chloe laughed, blushing. "Yes ma'am." Playfully slow, she worked Max's shirt over her head and onto the floor beside them. "I really like bossy Max," she said, eying the girl.
"That a fact?" She asked. The blue haired girl simply nodded as Max removed her bra. Chloe shuddered just at the sight.
"Man," she said quietly. "I know it's probably so weird that I always say this, but I'm just...fuck, holy fuck, I have you. I have Max fucking Caulfield here in front of me and it's amazing. I'm the luckiest gal at the dance."
"Chloe," Max said with a small laugh, taking the girl's hands into her own. "You are beautiful and amazing and everything you say just makes me turn to mush. But right now, I really, really need that," she lazily drifted a finger to Chloe's lips, "all over this." She removed her finger, touching it to her chest. Chloe grinned at her.
"I really, really fucking love bossy Max."
"And there goes the day," Max said dreamily, lying in her bed. Several spots on her neck, collarbone, chest and breasts were throbbing with a delightful pain. Some even showing off teeth marks. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back and basking in the euphoria.
"Not a bad way to spend it, though," Chloe said as she pulled on her shirt, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Truth all around," Max agreed, rolling onto her side. "Is it really weird if I say that you're tasty?" She immediately scrunched her nose, providing her own answer. "I just mean like, we've fooled around sometimes right after you get off work and you're sweaty or you've been smoking or just whatever..." She snirked. "Sometimes you even stink a little." Chloe shot her a look of shock. "But, no matter what, it's just...you. You're tasty."
"Okay, dude," the punk said sternly. "You need to ease up on the turning me on thing if we're ever going to make it to our double date."
"But I don't wanna," Max complained, adding a pout. "I like turning you on. I never really thought I'd do that to someone."
"Gonna fuckin' smack you." Chloe ruffled the brunette's hair. "What's it gonna take for you to see yourself the way I see you?"
"That's...a good question, actually," Max said, shifting to her back. "Sorry, self esteem is hard."
"I know," Chloe said with an understanding tone. "Trust me, I know. But, and maybe this is narcissistic, just seeing the way you look at me. Hearing the things you say...I dunno. It makes me feel beautiful. I just want to give you that same feeling."
"I'm definitely getting there." Max lightly pressed against a sore spot on her neck, smiling wildly. "You're changing me for the better. I'm not so..." She laughed, shaking her head. "Chickenshit anymore."
"That you are not." Chloe slowly ran a hand through Max's hair, then dragged it downward to her chest. She stared for just a moment, then sighed. "Trevor and Dana can wait a little longer, right?"
"They can wait forever for all I care!" She held her arms open as Chloe lowered herself onto her.
"How does this happen with no one getting caught?" Max asked as the two of them walked toward the bleachers. "This seems like something teenagers only get away with in movies."
"I think you're overestimating Blackwell's security. As long as you don't make a shit ton of noise, no one is going to think to climb under the bleachers and search for..." She stopped for a moment and smiled. "Hooligans." She snickered. "Did that guy the other day really say hooligans? What fuckin' era was he from?"
"The bad one," Max said dryly.
"There you two are!" Dana called, leaning out from beneath the stands. She was suddenly tugged, disappearing. "Trevor, we have company, no," Max heard her say.
Oh dear. Looks like they had the same plans.
"Long time no see," Chloe said as they ducked underneath the bleachers. "Thanks for stopping in yesterday." Max waved at the couple.
"It was delicious, as usual," Dana said as she fell into a lawn chair. There were four of them set up in a circle.
"Wow, you guys really made it your own," Max laughed. She took a seat in the one next to Trevor as Chloe sat next to her.
"Justin and me and even Chloe here have been coming here to smoke out forever," Trevor said, leaning forward to a bag on the ground. "Smokin' green on the green."
"He has literally been saying that since the very first time," Chloe added. "So fucking proud of it." The boy shrugged with a lazy smile, then began to pack a bowl.
"Well, I feel like it's my job as the paranoid one to ask," Max said. "Are we gonna get caught?" Trevor shook his head slowly, then faster as if the speed was directly equal to how convincing it was.
"So you've like, been hanging with Victoria lately, huh?" Dana asked, her gluttonous need for gossip unleashing.
"Yeah," Max said. "Yesterday we had a little study hall for World History but it kind of went south on us."
"So, she's like...actually cool now, huh?"
"It would appear so," Max answered. "Though she's really not feeling all the attention." She giggled as Trevor proudly held up the now packed bowl. "Go figure, Victoria Chase not wanting to be the center of attention, right?"
"Interesting..." Dana pondered for a moment. "A lot of change at Blackwell recently and it seems like you're at the center of it all, Max."
I am an agent of change. Spooky, but it does have superhero potential.
"Because she's cool," Trevor said, sputtering out a plume of smoke. "Max is totally like a chameleon, fits in with everybody." She felt her jaw momentarily fill with pressure as her teeth ground together, remembering Jefferson's comment on Rachel.
You know what? Fuck Jefferson. I'll take that as a compliment. Rachel was amazing.
"You are cool," Dana agreed, taking the bowl from him. "You know, I cannot believe how much I've turned into a fucking hophead since we've been together," she said, offering Trevor a disapproving glare. He shrugged at her.
"You know, it's funny you say that," Max said, giving Chloe a smirk. "Same deal with this one."
"Hey." Chloe held her hands up in defense. "You started that ball rolling all on your own. I was just there to shotgun it into your mouth. I'm an accessory, if anything. They would put me in a Ziploc bag and lock me in the evidence room."
Okay, Chlo. You haven't enabled this habit at alllll.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Max replied with a smile.
"This helps me sleep at night," Trevor said, pointing to the bowl in Chloe's hands. "It's like turning off the lights in my brain so I can just crash."
"Not a great sales pitch," Dana giggled. She turned to Chloe and clapped her hands together. "So," she said, "how is everything going with you two?"
"Imagine, if you will," Chloe began, smoke slowly leaking from between her lips, "that you are just constantly floating on a cloud. Like a memory foam cloud. And it's the perfect weather, the sun's out but it's not too hot, just enough to make you want to go outside. And your favorite song is always playing and it never gets boring..." Max was surprised by how off the cuff and sincere she was being. "I dunno, man, it's fucking awesome. It's like colors are brighter?"
"Oh. My. GOD!" Max yelled, shooting to her feet. "That's exactly what I said! That's how I described it to Victoria and Kate! The colors are brighter thing!" She let out a small squee and hopped in place. "We said the same dumb shit!" Dana gasped in awe, pressing a hand over her heart.
Ahhhh that's so stupid and amazing!
"See, that proves it," Chloe said coolly. "We're both perfectly compatible idiots." She held the bowl out to Max. "Cheers, baby." The brunette took it, still smiling like a buffoon.
"Dang," Trevor said. "I kind of forgot that I was gonna be with three girls tonight. It's very...feelsy."
"Oh hush." Dana waved a hand in annoyance. "This is adorable and you're dumb."
"Correct on both accounts," he said, holding up an index finger. He leaned to the side and shuffled through his backpack, pulling out a bag of chips. "I brought tons of munchy munch." He laughed. "Oh man, Chloe, remember that time you ate two of those big plastic barrels of Party Mix then got drunk and just puked fuzzy orange shit for like a half hour?"
"Yes, Trevor," she huffed with a hint of embarrassment. "How could I forget that highlight of my life?"
"I thought it was funny," he added with a shrug.
"But now it'd be a brighter orange!" Max said, grinning and already beginning to feel a bit loose.
"The moon's so beautiful tonight," Dana said, staring up into the sky. Trevor had pulled two of the lawn chairs together, resting his feet on one while reclined in the other while Dana sat in his lap. Max and Chloe had both abandoned their chairs and sat on the ground, snuggling each other closely.
"It is," Max said, nuzzling her cheek against Chloe's. "I want to go to the moon."
I could be a space Max.
"Yes!" Trevor exclaimed. "Let's fuckin' go to the moon! I could do every trick." He lazily drooped an arm to the side, searching in an open bag of chips. "First person to bust a 2,700 spin."
"Well, you know what they say." Chloe squeezed Max tightly with one arm, waving the other in a storyteller fashion. "Shoot for the moon! Even if you miss, you'll float away in space forever and die from any number of horrific, slow reasons."
"Yeah, I think I have that on a poster," Dana laughed. "It really helps me out when I'm feeling down." She reached forward and picked a clump of grass off of Trevor's shoe, frowning at it before flicking it away. "What time is it?" She asked.
"It is..." Max began, dipping her hand in her pocket for her phone. "11:48!"
"Fuck, I have class at eight. Life is so hard." She rested the back of her hand to her forehead, then winked at Max.
"The trials and tribulations of Dana Ward." Max nodded her head in agreement.
"Pfft, I have to work at six and I still have a few hours left in me," Chloe said, flexing her bicep. "Y'all are weak shit." Max excitedly gripped her bicep, cooing with feigned amazement.
"Get on my level," Trevor droned, his head falling backward in exhaustion. "It's level one hundred and six, by the way. No cheat codes allowed."
"And that sounds like my cue to get this boy to bed," Dana said, wriggling off of his lap. She lightly slapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, babe, time for night night."
Night night!? Well that's adorable.
After a small amount of protest, Dana finally got Trevor on his feet. They exchanged their farewells, with Dana enthusiastically suggesting (or demanding) that they should do it all again soon. After the two left, Max and Chloe sat in the grass, holding each other closely.
"I'm still high," Max said with a smile after some silence.
"I can tell," the punk laughed, holding the girl's hand. "You keep stroking your jeans."
"It feels good," Max argued nonchalantly. "Denim's basically silk."
"I know what else feels good," Chloe suggested, raising her eyebrow.
"Eating cookies!?" Max clawed into her with wild eyes. "When they're warm still and a teensy bit gooey and you have a big cup of milk?" Chloe narrowed her eyes.
"I can't tell if you're fucking with me or being serious. You've stolen my sarcasm all Rogue-style and harnessed it into something far more devastating. An atom bomb of wit." She giggled as she brushed Max's hair out of her face. "You're somethin' else."
"Somethin' else good or bad?" Max asked, straddling the blue haired girl. "And what's wrong with cookies?"
Talk shit on cookies Chloe swear to mofuckin'...
"Somethin' else great," Chloe said. "And nothing. Cookies are rad."
"I could eat 'em all," Max whispered, burying her face into the girl's neck.
"Yeah?" Chloe began to rub her back gently. "How many?"
"Six million." Max's voice was muffled against the punk's skin. "Six million and four."
"I think you'd have to barf after like thirty-five of them," she responded sympathetically, patting the girl's back. "Don't think you could do that many, Maxaroni."
"Could too," she mumbled, then pressed her teeth into Chloe's neck. The girl shuddered in delight.
"Hey," she said, gently tugging on Max's locks, "you trying to ninja hickey me?"
"Ninja," Max said quietly, resuming her attack. Chloe chuckled and tilted her head to the side, giving the girl more real estate. She stared up through the slats in the bleachers, catching small glimmers of stars in the night sky. She casually slipped her other hand beneath Max and cupped her ass as the pressure grew tighter on her neck.
"You know," she said, nibbling her lip as the stars twinkled. "This is romantic and kind of sleazy-hot all at once." There was an audible pop as Max removed herself from the punk's neck, positioning herself so that their noses touched.
"Necking out under the school bleachers while high is really not something I expected to happen during my stay at Blackwell, no," she admitted, swishing their noses together. "Buuuut..." She quickly nabbed her phone and switched on the flashlight, angling it at Chloe's neck. She grew a big grin. "I totally got you," she said. "That's a big one."
"Good job, baby," Chloe chuckled, pulling the girl into a hug. She softly kissed her cheek as her hand searched on its own for Max's. "I'm real proud of you."
A/N: Cuties doing cute things(tm)
Also, this goes without saying, but please don't ever take psychiatric advice from the stuff I write! Grounding is a real technique that doctors have taught me but I obviously glanced over it very quickly. If you feel like you need help with anxiety issues, see a professional! They're pretty cool. Sorry, the ANXIOUS part of my brain told me I should add that disclaimer :p