A/N: Yay I'm back! And with the longest chapter so far. Ironically, not so much Warren on this one. But don't worry, next chapter will make up for that :)

The engine's been off for a while, but neither of us is moving yet. In fact, the stillness inside of the car really stands out against the thundering weather outside. There's also a great deal of stillness inside me, or rather numbness. No more teeth clenching, or lip biting, or throat closing up. There's only quietness.

"So when you say you don't remember any of this…" Warren starts after a while.

"I mean: nothing. Total amnesia," I say, not looking away from the raindrops running down the windshield.

"And is it just that day?"

"No… The whole week."

"Wow. That's… interesting." He doesn't sound like a concerned friend, maybe more like a scientist watching a snake shed its skin.

"And useless now."

"That's not your fault."

I want to prove him wrong, I really want to. And perhaps I should tell him everything. The traveling through time, premonitory dreams, huge freaking tornado, people dropping dead like flies, birds dropping dead like flies. He's already believed me once, without questioning. Although… it was a matter of life and death then, literally. And he had witnessed the latter part. But the mere idea of talking about it sounds so liberating. But it also sounds crazy just to think about it. But it…

"Maybe we should call it a night," I say suddenly, to stop my thoughts from going places. "It's not raining as heavily as before."

"Okay," Warren says and glances out the window. "Though be careful with your step, it's gonna be a hell of a slippery road."

"I've been through worse. Plus, I'm not so keen on soaking myself, so I'll run anyway."

"Then you should walk, not run. If you run, then you'll get wetter."

"Oh, that's bullshit." I roll my eyes. "You have to hurry not to get wet, walking doesn't make any sense."

"Then let's try it out. You run, and I'll walk, and we'll see who's right."

"Deal."

I open my bag and grab my sweater, removing the bits and pieces of my broken camera from it. It's not the best thing ever to protect me from the rain, but it'll do for now.

"By the way... I guess you don't remember about the curfew thing, then?" Warren says when my hand is on the door.

"No... "

"Let's just say they're not so keen on people roaming around late at night, so... We should be careful"

"Alright. " I nod and open the door, ready to bolt.

"Hey, wait up, you cheat!" I hear him shout after me.

"How am I a cheat? This isn't a race!" I laugh and pick up my pace heading to the dorms.

The cold rain hits my face and forces me to narrow my eyes. I'm annoyed at the drops that get caught up in my eyelashes and blur my vision, as if deciding which puddle will splatter less water when I rush through it isn't already hard enough. But the worst thing is the smell. I never thought I could ever hate the smell of rain this much.

I'm almost there when I trip against something hard and lose balance for a moment.

"Shit!" I shout before somehow stopping myself from falling buttfirst to the wet ground.

"Who's out there?" I hear someone say before a flash of white blinds me.

I raise my hand to cover my eyes from the light and regain my sight. A grown man in uniform steps from behind the fence. I think I recognize his mustache.

"David?" I ask and climb a few steps into the small porch to take cover from the rain.

"Oh, Max, it's you." David Madsen lowers his flashlight and I get a better look at his face. An unshaven beard is now keeping his mustache some company. "You know you shouldn't be out this late."

"Yeah, I know, I just went for a walk."

"In this weather?" He raises an eyebrow and from the corner of my eye I spot Warren making his way here.

"I'm... Surprised to see you here," I say louder than necessary and, the second David looks down, I flash Warren a warning look.

"Just making a night round, waiting for the rain to stop." His tone is vague and overall tired.

"I meant here in Blackwell."

"Yes, well, even if I can't keep you all safe... Doesn't mean I'll stop trying. Besides, I'm more useful here than..." David makes a pause and I stand closer to the door, hoping he will turn to face me.

"Well, I... I do feel safer with you around," I say and I mean it.

David looks at me and Warren takes the chance to sneak past him.

"Thank you, Max. And for everything you've done this week. I know Joyce is forever grateful for your company. "

"Sure." I nod with a tight smile.

I want to say something else to him, anything, but nothing seems right.

Thank you for saving my life.

I'm sorry it took me so many rewinds to save yours.

I'm sorry I couldn't save her.

Not that it would make any sense for him. I have to settle for a meaningful stare and saying goodnight. David shows me the ghost of a smile and I resume my race to the dorms. Warren is inside the hall, by the stairs, trying to dry his hair off by shaking his head like a dog.

"Hey, stop that," I put my arms up trying to keep the jumping drops from getting to me.

"Oh, sorry" He raises his eyes - which must be somewhere behind those sticky wet bangs of his. "Thanks, you saved my ass out there."

"I know. And I beat you, you're absolutely soaked."

"That's not fair! I had to wait out in the rain forever to go past Commando guy!"

"Not my concern" I cross my arms over my chest and attempt to put on the smug smirk I enjoy giving him, but apparently my face muscles are not willing to cooperate. "Hey, I'm exhausted, we'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure. And hey... Try not to... You know... Don't get all worked up over it. I mean... "

"I know. I'll do my best to get some sleep."

"Yeah. Though you should take a shower first. You reek like a wet dog."

"And you," I begin to say as I try to punch his arm, but he jumps back just in time. "... are a lame loser."

Now Warren's the one to pull a smug smile and does a sort of ceremonial bow before heading to the boy's dorms. I walk up the stairs and to my room, removing my drenched sweater on the way. Closing my bedroom door behind me feels like removing that little plug that was keeping my mind from flooding with mingled thoughts, literally flooding since they all escape through my mouth in the form of incomprehensible mumbling. I brush my wet hair back with my fingers, trying to push it all away.

I need to do something. I just have to figure out what. Otherwise, my head's going to crack. I don't want to go to sleep and talk to Chloe about how I failed to act as a witness of her death because I was found crying in the bathroom with no memory of ever hearing a gunshot or seeing a thing. Or about how the police forces of Arcadia Bay are completely useless, nothing like the episodes of Law and Order we used to binge watch. They haven't even cleared up the details surrounding Rachel's death, for God's sake. I sigh and snort and curse until I come up with a better idea.

I go to my desk, turn on the little pink lamp Mom gave me for my fifteenth birthday, grab my journal and begin to write. I don't care much for my choice of words or stop to doodle to make my pages look nicer. I just keep on writing, following the speed with which my thoughts come to mind, no filter in between, so I'm somehow conscious most of this won't make any sense. How could it, anyway?

Jefferson's hideous lecture, saving Chloe, actually meeting Chloe again, failing to save Kate, Frank's beans, seeing Chloe in a wheelchair, finding Rachel's body. I don't skip a detail, and the more I write, the more it sounds like a work of fiction, like it was all just in my head. And that's kind of true now. I'm the only one in possession of all these memories.

That thought stops me when I'm about to describe how Jefferson shot Chloe in the junkyard. Not because of the emotional baggage that comes with it, but because of Warren. He did mention his dream with the storm and the diner. Makes me wonder if David is dreaming of his deaths too. Or Kate. Makes me wonder if I really wanna know.

I get to see a few drops of blood fall on the paper before my journal becomes a much-needed pillow.

As I walk into the classroom, she's already there, speaking. For a moment I almost believe she's just a super rude student who's taken over Jefferson's old desk, but then I recognize her face from the website Kate showed me the other day. My brain doesn't quite understand how a thirty-something woman can look that young. She appears to be one of those rare specimens that can really fight time and beat it.

Miss Andrea Rhodes is leaning on the front of her desk and falls silent the second she takes in my presence. Her head turns to me and a soft smile spreads across her lips. I swear, those grey eyes can't be older than twenty-five. It's like she's been airbrushed.

"Hi, sorry I'm late," I say as I close the door behind me.

"You must be Maxine then," she says, and her use of my full name makes me cringe. "Welcome, we were just starting."

I now have to face the one thing I've been dreading, sitting in that damned chair at the back. I try and focus on the fact that I'll be okay as long as I don't have to hear Jefferson's lecture again. I should also come to terms with the fact that these awful plastic chairs are fucking uncomfortable. Seriously, you'd think such a prestigious school would at least invest in their seatings.

Normally, I would have been more bothered by everyone's looks on me, keeping my head down and trying to hurry out of embarrassment - the sole reason I was never late to class was so I could avoid going through that - but it doesn't seem that big of a deal now. Before sitting down, I take a peek out of the window, just to make sure there aren't any dead birds lying around the ground.

"As I was telling you, I've just arrived in Arcadia Bay two days ago, so I'm curious to see what you guys have been creating. I've heard great things about all of you from your principal and had the chance to take a look at your entries for the Everyday Heroes Competition." Her eyes flash at me for a second before she continues. "I've seen some very interesting things in them which I'd like to share today."

It's been six days since a tornado didn't hit Arcadia Bay, and this is our first lesson of Language of Photography with Andrea Rhodes. It's also practically the only thing I've been looking forward to all week. I've had time to Google her after Kate reminded me of her name, and I must say I was quite impressed. I shouldn't be surprised, but her style was different from what I would have expected from a photographer based in LA - I may have been a bit judgy there. From what I've learned, Miss Rhodes specializes in moody wild nature shots which she combines with human subjects, and the result is always stunning. But what really got me was that many of her award-winning photographs are self-portraits. Which makes sense, considering her dark hair and ivory skin create a perfect dramatic contrast. Of course, her editing is on point too, and the dynamic atmosphere she creates with the lighting in her shots... it's the exact opposite of freezing time. Plus, she's got my respect for being patient enough to get those animals to pose right.

Miss Rhodes is talking about her formation and initial inspirations and I'm embarrassed to already feel my eyelids growing heavy and my mind drifting away. It's not that she's particularly dull, but not even ten hours of sleep were enough for me to regain energy. Rather than 'following the natural course of time', this week's been more about time chasing down my ass. I think I've spent most of it either sleeping or passing out.

I'm not gonna lie, I am a bit freaked out. My brain has been working harder than usual while my body seems to be falling apart. But I can't really go to a doctor and explain I have post time-traveling exhaustion and stress. I can't talk to anyone about it, and I need to come to terms with the fact that the things I experienced during the longest week of my life didn't really happen, at least not for the rest of the world. I also know Chloe would give me crap for even thinking like that, which is why I've been avoiding her. Or maybe she's been avoiding me. Whatever the case, I haven't talked to her since finding out the Nathan thing. Keeping my mind off things might have been easier if it weren't for Warren and his dream about the diner.

Just as if he'd read my mind from the classroom across the hall, there's a light on my phone indicating I've received a new text. He's been an even heavier texter than ever this week, given I've been avoiding face-to-face communication. I may have also been replying with short, to-the-point texts, but him being Warren, he always finds a way to make further conversation. I unlock the screen and read it quickly.

"Have you realized how bad Miss Grant's hair resembles a bunch of susuwatari? Srsly, there could be thousands of them in there. Or does this mean I've had too much coffee?"

I curl my lips tightly to keep myself from chuckling at the randomness of it.

"You could try and smash it and see if they turn into soot. Though Miss Grant might not appreciate it."

"It's not like I haven't thought of it. But I'm also starting to think Paul Kent's hair is made of Kakunas. It's just so bright and yellow."

"Definitely too much coffee. Though maybe I've had too much too, cause I keep staring at Kate's. Hers is always so big and fluffy, I wonder how she does it."

"That's because it's full of secrets."

"Did you just quote Mean Girls?"

"Who?"

My brain snaps back into the classroom when I hear Taylor say the word "sociopath". I've no idea what she's said, but I know she's talking about Jefferson.

"... Or rather a psychopath. At least that's what I heard," she's saying as she crosses her arms over her chest. "But, what is a psychopath then?"

"I'll tell you what it's not: relevant to this class," Victoria snaps back at her, shaking her hand as if it were dismissing the previous comment.

"Well, it is actually." Miss Rhodes intervenes. "Art frequently feeds on different aspects of science. If you've had the chance to see some paintings from the Middle Ages, you must have noticed you can hardly recognize any emotion in the expression of most faces. Which then, of course, changed with Renaissance artists, who took an interest in the psychological state of their subjects." Victoria now keeps her mouth shut and Miss Rhodes turns to her. "In fact... Chase, right? You were the winner of the contest. Well, Miss Chase, your picture poses as a great example of what I intended to discuss." She walks behind the desk and takes out the big framed print of Victoria's shot, the one with the doctor hiding his face in his hands. "Now, who can tell me why this photo won the contest?"

"Because it's pretty fucking amazing." Taylor says in what looks like an attempt to win her queen V's affection back.

"It is pretty amazing. But so was Daniel DaCosta's or Kate Marsh's. What makes this shot so special?" What strikes me the most is that she's already learnt everybody's names. She walks around the classroom waiting for an answer and her eyes land on me. Please don't. "Caulfield. Would you please tell me what you see here?"

Clearly my silent prayer didn't work. I stare at the glossy image and get myself together.

"It's... A very clean shot. The natural light from the window makes for a nice backlight and the subject is framed in a way that..."

"Yes, yes, we can all agree it is overall technically well-executed." She cuts me off and places the image on the desk in front of me. "But I'm asking you, what do you see?"

I really don't feel like kissing Victoria's ass right now, especially when I can feel her stare on me, but Miss Rhodes is not backing off. I examine the picture once more, looking for the exact words that express how it makes me feel.

"Sadness. Frustration. Failure. Which would normally be absurd to see in someone who devotes his life to help other people. He's sitting by a corner, and looking away. He doesn't want to be seen. And the focus on his hands really brings out the heaviness he's feeling, you can feel… the weight of it all."

Fortunately, Miss Rhodes appears to enjoy my appreciation and moves back to another desk.

"Now that's something interesting. What about you, Mr. DaCosta?"

Victoria's eyes are fixated on me, but I avoid looking at her at all costs. Only when Daniel finishes speaking and Miss Rhodes pronounces her name again does she look away.

"That was really nice too, Daniel. Now, Victoria, what can you tell us about this man?"

"His name is Patrick Pen. He's a doctor at the Providence Portland Medical Center, a surgeon." From the way her voice has changed I can tell she's practiced this speech multiple times. "He's the one who performed a heart surgery on me when I was ten. I was visiting by chance that day and the girl he had to operate... She couldn't even make it to the operating room. She was only six. He saves people every day and loses some, but still goes on. He's a real everyday hero."

Miss Rhodes nods and puts the picture on the board.

"This is what I want to see. This is the Language of Photography. I'm sure before Miss Chase told her story, all of you could understand the feelings conveyed here. And that is because, thank God, we have this wonderful capacity to feel and express emotions, to empathise with others. This-" She points back to the man in the picture. "true feelings, transparency, is what you need to search for in your viewfinder. Something you'll never see in a psychopath."

Kudos for her for addressing the topic without even naming the one psychopath we all have in mind. Miss Rhodes pulls Kate's photo out now and we continue to analyze one entry after the other, from technical aspects to mere personal impressions. Once we are done with that – with everyone's pictures for the contest but mine and Taylor's - our new teacher gives us some other pictures to discuss, some are from magazines, some others look like they were taken out of a museum. I choose to remain silent most of the time, but Miss Rhodes lets us do most of the talking. Even Allysa is sharing her opinion, and I hardly ever hear her say a word in class. The only thing I'm not particularly a fan of is when we're told we'll be doing some group work soon, but as Kate shoots me a smile I know I'll be in good company.

The bell rings before Miss Rhodes gets to explain what that work will be about and I'm ready to leave the classroom when I hear my name.

"Maxine. Can you stay just for a few minutes?"

"Sure," I say and approach her desk, all the while feeling Victoria's nosy pupils following me. I'm really not fond of the familiar feeling in this. "I'm sorry I was late today, I…"

"Oh, don't worry about that." I'm happy she interrupts me because I had no real excuse. "I'm very curious about you. Most of your classmates participated in the contest but not you."

"Oh… yeah I just didn't feel…"

"That's okay, I'm not judging." Andrea raises her hands with a kind smile. "It's just that I have all this amazing work they could share today and nothing from you. It seems unfair, I'd like to get to know you too. Taylor didn't take part in the contest either but she's shown me her portfolio. Do you have one?"

"Well… no." I do have a bunch of random pictures of squirrels and birds in some alternate timeline…

"Hmm." She takes her glasses off and cleans them with the edge of her blouse. "Well then, you think you can bring something to share with us next class?"

"Yeah."

"Great then! Do you shoot digital or analog?"

"Analog. I have an old instant camera."

"That's quite rare to see these days. I'll be very interested to see what you create. I'd like you to shoot something along the lines of what we talked about in class today. A side of someone everyone sees, and one that's hidden, that shows their true self. You think you can do that?"

"Yeah, I think so." Even though my answer is quite vague, I compensate by uttering it with confidence. At least that's what I tell myself.

Miss Rhodes nods and I say goodbye and head to the door, seeing Kate is just leaving too. She would make a great subject, I'd dare say no one is as misunderstood as her. I can already picture her playing her violin, surrounded by her drawings and…

"Oh, and Maxine," Miss Rhodes calls after me.

"Max," I correct her with the most similar thing I can pull to a smile. I can only allow my mom to call me that.

"Max." She nods. "Let your subject be someone from outside this classroom. Judging by your intense use of your phone in class, I'm guessing you must have a busy social life so it won't be any trouble for you."

Oh fuck. I can only nod blankly at her and walk by Kate's side.

We've just made it out of the classroom when I see Victoria and her posse standing right in the middle of the hallway. They look like something taken out of a 90s film. Victoria is speaking in her unnecessarily loud voice, just to make sure I hear her.

"She's just a hippie who takes a bunch of selfies. We all know who her favorite pet will be." She turns around, and looks at me as if she's just noticed I'm there. "So Max, I hear you've got some extra homework. What will you delight us with this time? Will it be a classic, downward angle, serious-emo-girl selfie? Or will you go wild with a front angle and an actual smile?" Victoria poses as if taking said pictures with her phone and Taylor laughs like she's a freaking comedian. "Seriously, haven't you found anything more interesting to take silly Polaroids of than yourself?"

The whole situation is so old for me I'm not even offended. Then Kate's voice surprises me.

"Seriously, Victoria, haven't you found anything more interesting to do with your time than to plan snotty rhetorics to make yourself sound important?" I believe Victoria is even more shocked than I am that Kate would talk back at her, since she just stares with her mouth hanging for a moment. "Right, nothing to say? We'll give you some time to think of something smart."

She could've just dropped the mic right there. All three girls look at her in disbelief as Kate just walks past them, me following right behind her.

"Wow Kate, that was so badass!" I look at my friend in awe.

"I think my knees are shaking," she confesses to me under her breath. "Let's just not stop walking."

I could hug her right now.

"I don't even know where that came from," she continues while we walk down the hall. "Was I too mean?"

"You were perfect." I grin at her. "Victoria must still be trying to catch her breath. You're my hero."

"And you're my main inspiration."

Her 'Kate' smile brightens her face and the whole school. It is quite something to look at and I wonder what has been in her head these days. Which reminds me…

"By the way… Have you had any strange dreams lately?" I ask once we're out in the campus.

"Strange how?" Kate stops walking since we're supposed to part ways now.

"I don't know, about being somewhere in these buildings… Like on the rooftop, maybe?" I'm trying really hard to be subtle here.

"Uhm… No, I don't think I've ever been up there…" Her eyes trail to the side in deep thought. "I had one dream in which the cafeteria was full of frogs. Does that count?"

"No, I mean… Something death-related." Real smooth, genius, Dean-Winchester-esque.

Kate raises her eyes to me in surprise and I find it extremely hard to act as if it was an everyday question.

"Is this because of what we talked about the other day?" she asks and, again, I wish I knew what she's talking about, so I pretend I do.

"Maybe. There's just been a lot in my mind lately, I suppose."

"That's perfectly natural." Kate nods but her mouth is struggling between a smile and something far away from it. "I'm glad you could make it to class today. I haven't seen much of you this week."

"Oh yeah… I've been… catching up with some things." Saying I've been only sleeping and skipping as many lessons as possible would only make her frown further.

"Warren's asked about you too."

"Really? What did he say?"

Kate thinks for a moment before answering.

"I think he was under the impression you've been avoiding him."

"No, I haven't. I've just… been busy."

"Well, he was worried. We both were," she adds, her lips still doing that odd not-really-smiling thing. "You were in really bad shape the other day."

"Yeah, but that was just the weekend." I wish lying got easier every time. "Had to get it out of my system. Now there's no more nose bleeding, or throwing up…"

"Oh, you've been actually sick too?"

"That's gone. I'm all better now." I smile to reassure her. "I should head off now. To do my homework, find my muse..."

"Well, good luck with it. There are plenty of interesting people here in Blackwell, I'm sure you'll do great."

I thank Kate and she leaves to catch the bus, while I head to the dorms with Ben Howard singing in my earplugs. In only four days I'll have to show my work to Miss Rhodes and, if I ever want anyone to take me seriously, it's gotta be good. It's a shame I can't use Kate, she would be so perfect. She's the epitome of what it means to be misjudged. I don't think anybody here truly knows how kind and caring she is, or how selfless. I would love to show her in my pictures as she is, for everyone to see. I guess Andrea Rhodes didn't realize she was asking her most socially awkward student to work with someone outside the classroom. Or perhaps she did that on purpose.

I'm staring at the map of the girls dorms, reviewing every name on the floor. So Kate, Stella, Alyssa, Taylor and Victoria are already in my class. Not like I would ever take the latter into account. That leaves me with only three people to choose from. Or rather two, because I do not believe Brooke would like having me following her around with my camera. Or even standing near her.

Right when Gracious comes to an end, the perfect answer to my dilemma is presented to me in the form of Talking Heads. I approach the second door on the right and see her dancing on top of the bed, all carefree to And She Was. This is one image I'd never get tired of seeing.

It's not a perfect dance, but you would believe she's perfect seeing her like this. That's the enchanting thing about girls like her, even in their PJs, with bed hair and no make-up on, they'll still look better than you after spending hours trying to be like them. At least on the outside, she is flawless. But I've learnt too much about her life to know it's far from that.

I walk in and take my camera out, positioning myself right at the end of her bed and close to the wall so that her body is backlit. I take the shot just as she's turning around, her arms moving freely around her head. The picture comes out and I tuck it in my back pocket.

She opens her eyes and is surprised to find me there, but her smile is welcoming.

"Max Caulfield! Are you honoring me by making me one of your subjects?" she says while continuing to dance.

"I believe you're just what I was looking for." I nod and look around the room. Posters, fake spiders, paper pumpkins, burlesque costumes… The Halloween stuff is taking over. "How are you doing, Dana?"

"I'm marvelous as you can see! Getting in the mood for tonight's party!" Her dance is not a fully energetic one, but rather slow and engaged, as if she were feeling every note snake up her limbs.

"Seriously, what is it with this school and parties on Thursday nights?"

"Get used to it, the 31st falls on a Thursday too and that means Halloween, the best one yet!" She cheers and I begin to suspect her mood is a bit too high. That would explain the strong smell of lavender in the room, trying to cover up something else. "I hope you're planning on coming!" The song reaches its final 'was' and Dana slowly sits down at the edge of the bed. "And you should bring your bitch Warren. Both of you in dorky couply costumes like… Princess Leia and Luke Skywalker."

"You do know Luke and Leia are brother and sister, right?"

"Is that like an incest thing?" She tilts her head to the right.

"No!" I let out a small laugh, but hers goes on for way too long. I raise my eyebrows at her. "You're totally baked."

"Is it that obvious?" She almost whispers and looks around as if someone else could see her. "Justin and I shared a few joints yesterday and he left some with me for my own enjoyment."

"Justin?" I ask, now I'm the one tilting her head. "And what about Trevor?"

"What about him? I mean… he's nice and all but… Justin and I really hit it off. We had this real talk on Monday, when they took Mr. Jefferson away. He told me about when he was a kid and his dad went to jail… You'd never know what he's been through by just looking at him."

For some reason, that kinda hurts. I always thought Trevor and Dana made such a cute couple. I try not to put much thought into it. Butterfly effect again, I suppose.

"You know… that's what my photography assignment is about actually. I'm supposed to show two sides of the same person. You don't mind me using you?"

"Of course not! Like I said, I'm honored. But are you going for a high and a sober side of me?"

"I'll have to come up with something better."

"So you want one too?"

"One what?"

"A joint" She rolls her eyes, still smiling. "This new stuff is so strong. Justin's got a new dealer since the other guy who used to provide him is no longer in business."

"You mean Frank?"

"Wow Max, I didn't take you for a pothead." I believe she's impressed. "But yeah, I think that was the old guy's name. Anyway, want one? I promise it'll be a nice trip. At first it made me get all funny and drowsy but now I really feel like dancing!"

Given I can no longer freeze time to ponder on the possible consequences of my actions, I'll have to go with my first instinct.

"Sure, why not?"

Dana makes sure the door is locked before lighting it up. I've only smoked once with Kristen back in Seattle, and my common sense is telling me that my first instinct was wrong. Weed makes me act even clumsier than I already am, both physically and verbally, not to mention the continuous need for peeing. But I'm so done with making choices following my common sense and careful thinking. With everything my mind and body have been through, I think I deserve to let my hair down a bit.

"I could never share this with Juliet" Dana sits on the floor, her back to the bed. "Actually, she would kill me if she knew I was hanging out with Justin."

"She'd get over it." I sit down next to her, my feet to the side, and take my first puff. "Though she'd probably be jealous more than anything."

"You're right. Sometimes it feels like I'm tiptoeing around her, making sure she won't get her panties in a twist over anything I do or say." Dana rolls her eyes "Not like you Max, you're really easy to talk to."

"That's funny, considering hardly anyone does." I chuckle. "I'm usually glad they don't though. But you're always nice to everyone, unlike most people here."

"You think so?" She smiles and throws her head back, staring at the ceiling. "I think if someone was actually inside my head, they would realize what an actual bitch I am."

"That's all of us. I think the fact you keep that in your head makes you a nice person."

"Well, but you… try." She finally says and I can't help but laugh at her lack of more comforting words.

"I guess. But I'm sort of the slave of trying… and the master of failing."

"That was sooo deep."

"Right?"

That's all that's needed to really get us going. Even when I start to hit my not-so-bright-remarks phase, I couldn't care less. And that's the beauty of it, I don't have to think or care about what I say or how I act. Even the stupidest things are spoken freely without that little voice in my head actually telling me I'm being stupid.

"Sometimes when I go out in the morning I feel like I haven't woken up properly and I need to check my reflection in random windows just to make sure I'm not wearing my PJs." I find myself saying at some point.

"Oh my god! I do that all the time. And once I had actually gone out wearing these awful leggings I wear in bed. Everyone in campus could see my butt through it every time I moved my legs."

The laughter that comes out of our mouths does not even sound human at all. It's more like sporadic gags and coughs, since most of the laughing is done in silence, with our mouths wide open and our heads falling back and forth in slow motion.

"I often think about people I know dying, and what I'd say in their funerals." Dana says once she's finally able to breathe again. "I'm not good with words when I'm really down. So I plan it all ahead. And if I've got nothing to say, then I worry. There's always something, at least some nice little thing a person can and should be remembered for. Like Victoria, she's a bitch and all, but Taylor showed me her entry for the contest and it was so fucking good." She makes a pause and I reflect on her words. "This is when you go "OMG, I do that too!"

"Well, no, not really." I giggle. "What would you say in my funeral?"

"Hm. Something along the lines of…" She straightens her chest and raises her hand as if she were holding a glass, making it look more like she's giving a toast at a wedding. "'Max was one of the kindest souls. She could capture the best of you in an image for eternity. And also get super baked with me and talk about death. And now there she is.'"

"There she is." I knock my imaginary glass against hers and we both burst into stupid laughter again. "Thinking about it, I don't think anyone has anything really interesting to say about me on this timeline." I'm not sure whether I'm speaking to her, or to myself, but words keep flowing. "I just wish I could be more normal, you know? Like those girls at Wendy's. I wanna be like them and talk about Scorpios. And I wanna stop saying I wanna do stuff and start doing it. Let me paraphrase that. I'm gonna start doing stuff I always say I wanna do. "

"Like getting high with me?"

"Like getting high with you."

"You know, we should do this like every week." Dana smiles as she turns the music up. "And you have to come to the party tonight."

"I'm not a party person really…"

"Didn't you say you wanted to be like those girls at Wendy's?" She puts her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow at me.

"Well... Yeah."

"And don't you think those girls at Wendy's would go to the party and have a great time?"

"Well... Yeah."

"Then you have to come!"

"Well... I think you're right."

"Of course I'm right!"

"But... What would I wear, anyway?"

"Oh, I have just the thing for you." Dana suddenly grins like she has the best idea ever. I can already see the chick flick makeover montage playing in her head.

"Dana, I'm not that high, I know I could never pull your style."

Strong determination in mind, Dana ignores me and starts searching in her drawers, throwing random pieces of clothing around the floor, till she comes across a blue blouse.

"This is it. You'll look perfect in it."

"You're crazy." I laugh but still catch it when she throws it at me.

I stare at the blouse for a moment. I know there is no way I can pull off that cleavage, but Dana looks so excited I can't say no without at least trying. I take off my t-shirt and put the blouse on, to find it's not as bad as I thought. Given it's quite tight-fitting, my small waist makes up for my almost nonexistent chest.

"You look amazing!" Dana's eyes are almost popping out of her head. "Oh please let me take a picture!"

I laugh at her enthusiasm but still pose for her – or more like let her pose me, since she keeps moving my arms and hands and hair and head to her liking like I'm her Barbie doll or a chunk of clay.

"Awesome!" She jumps in her place. "I'm so sending this to your Warren."

"What?! Hell no!"

I mean to jump on her and at least try to take the phone from her, but for a second I almost hear Chloe's voice.

"I'm gonna text Warren to say you blew me off."

The déjà vu is strong with this one. Dana is nothing like her, but this is definitely the kind of moment I would be sharing with Chloe. Actually, if I squint my eyes enough, I can even picture blue hair and tats.

"Done!" she singsongs. "I also texted him the address so he'll definitely join the party too… if he can manage to read it beneath the drool all over your pic."

"Gross!"

"At least I only said 'drool'…"

"You need to drop it right there!" I choke out when I'm able to stop and breathe.

Dana lets herself fall on her butt and I take the chance and steal the phone from her hands to take a look at the embarrassing shot she's just sent, but I'm astounded when I see it. My hair is the right kind of mess and the blue top doesn't look so awful on me. Maybe it's the weed, but...

"I actually look hot," I conclude and she nods in agreement. Then I take a second look at it. "Though, ugh, my eyes look bloodshot! Why is your phone's camera so HD?"

"To make you look like a sexy vampire."

I giggle at her statement and read her text, which is full of misspelled words and wrong corrections from her phone. But it's definitely been sent.

"I can't believe you've just texted him." I sit by her side, my back against her bed.

"Oh, don't play innocent. Justin says he saw you doing the walk of shame."

"What?"

"Sunday morning you were leaving Warren's room after doing the dirty deed."

I had completely forgotten about that. So maybe Justin wasn't as dazed and confused as I thought after all.

"No, that's so not what it was." I shake my head, my bloodshot eyes wide open. "I was a complete mess and Warren was comforting me."

"And I bet he was good at it." She smiles and I roll my eyes.

"Oh, not again, Chloe."

"'Chloe'?" Dana's smile freezes in place.

My mouth just hangs there open for a moment when the phone buzzes in my hand.

"Oh no, he's texted back." I haven't even opened the text when Dana takes it from my hand.

"If that was an invitation, I'm 200% in." She reads out loud.

I'm relieved he hasn't commented on the least about my appearance. Though on second thought, I'm offended.

"Is that all it says?" I take a peek at the screen and Dana's smile spreads to her right side.

"His hand was probably too busy to type anything else."

I take the nearest object I can find – which luckily for her it's just a rubber spider - and shove it right on her face. At least that's what I think I do, but the object flies across the room without even brushing her skin. Dana sticks her tongue at me, then walks back to her drawers, grabs a good bunch of make-up products, and places them on the floor by my side.

"Now, let's turn you into a real hottie."

A/N: I remember when I started uploading I promised myself I would never make you guys wait as long as Dontnot. Ha, ha, ha… ha.

Now, what did I do to deserve such lovely readers? Your reviews are so heartwarming! Seriously, 90% of this chapter was written in an inspiration frenzy after reading your comments on the previous one.

Marcus, you're officially my favorite human being.

And Captain Sensible, what an awesome coincidence! Have you watched the whole thing by now? What did you think of it?

Thank you so much, to all of you for your wonderful comments that always make my day! And thank you for sticking up with me if you're still there from the beginning :)

PS: So some things are already in motion and I intend to make chapters a bit longer... how does that sound?