We silently speed on by.
Several minutes go by before I speak up. "So… I guess we should probably get you back home."
She glances at me, but doesn't speak. "Probably a one or two-day drive." I continue.
"So if you've got any money, say it now- we've been needing to stop for gas before we even left town. Not to mention I'm starving."
Still silent. What is she, a mute now? "Once we get back to a real highway we should be able to find a place to stock up."
I mean, are we doing that whole I'm not speaking to you game because you're mad at me or something? "In case you haven't figured it yet, I don't have the money we took from Blackhell. Figured it'd be kind of silly to keep what some would call evidence on me at all times." I lightly punch her shoulder, hoping for a reaction.
Nothing. I'm not trying anymore. My nerves are way too fried to put up with whatever Max is pulling right now.
I step on the gas as we turn onto a major highway. A fleet of four helicopters rush overhead, headed in the direction of home… Er, Arcadia Bay.
Then a small armada of police cruisers, ambulances and fire-trucks scream down the side opposite to us, again in the direction of town. Three news vans and an assortment of sedans, jeeps and coups follow hot on their heels.
The sun is starting to go down. Its outline begins to connect with the horizon. I decide to pull to the curb and check how much money I have for when we do come across a gas station.
Of course, Max doesn't say or do anything.
… A shredded fiver, two tens and a twenty so covered in writing only an idiot would accept it. No credit cards on me because no one is stupid enough to give me one. I'm on top of the world.
I briefly hold my head in my hands. I'm so tired. I need a cig so badly. I desperately want to get drunk.
As I'm lost in my various cravings, I notice a blue and red flashing has engulfed my truck. Looking in the mirror, a police cruiser is parked behind me, and a man is walking towards us.
"Oh come on!" I'm angry, though my voice sounds more desperate than anything else.
As I wait, it suddenly dawns on me I've got half a dozen empty beer bottles in the car. Not to mention it reeks of weed. Fuck.
Heh. Max hasn't noticed or cared yet. I take my jacket that I've thrown in the back and use it cover the bottles. Phase one complete.
As for the weed smell… Oh! I grab my license, and open Max's door, "Follow my lead...!"
I get out of the truck more happily and with more pep than any human in the history of traffic stops.
Before the policeman has a chance to react, "Howdy' officer! License and registration all right here! Say, any chance you know where to find a gas station or motel?"
"Ma'am, get back in the vehicle at once!" His voice booms despite the distance.
"Alrighty!" I clamber back in. Jesus, being a happy ditz is tougher than it looks. Maybe I should go for the nervous wreck… No, too suspicious.
Wait. I have blue hair. And there's a massive gouge on the side of my head. I look like a fucking James Bond villain.
My arm feels wet. Touching it, I realise my wound has started bleeding, again. Fuck! Shit! Why does everything I do have to fucking fall apart!?
I grind my teeth. I look over at Max. She never bothered to try my plan, but she did bother to shut the door.
I notice a liquid running down the side of my face. I don't need to touch it to know it's not sweat. Hell, I probably look more like a zombie by this point than a delinquent or unnervingly peppy Stepford Smiler.
… Now that I look like a serial killer, I can get the luxury of being manhandled by the police and taken back to the station, where they can charge me with having open alcoholic containers or some kind of bullshit.
I can't stop myself from a hysterical laugh.
There's a knock at the window. I smile and bring it down.
"Miss, do not step out of the vehicle unless I tell you to do so."
My expression which most reserve for joy doesn't change an ounce as I vigorously nod my head up and down.
"Now, I'd like to see your license… and..." His eyebrows furrow and he inhales. Guess he's smelling something.
"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you both to step out of the vehicle."
Just the opportunity I've been waiting for. I go to open my mouth and rant on about how I was already out of it, but Max cuts me off.
"Sorry if my friend is a bit weird or rude officer. We're both having a really bad day." She gets out and grabs her arm. She also shoots me some kind of annoyed look.
I shoot her an angry eye myself and get out. I already know how this is going to end, might as well indulge myself and have some fun. He throws my jacket aside and takes me down to the station. I get busted for drunk driving despite never getting a test done, and possession of a controlled substance when his buddies plant weed in my truck- Because I know for a fact I've smoked everything in it already.
I clamber out after her and the officer has his flashlight trained on Max. She looks like she was thrown in a washing machine with a dozen angry cats. And spent a few hours sitting in mud. Which, to be fair, she did.
His eyes are one of a sceptic. Not a single word she could say would soften his cold, dead heart.
He trains his light towards me, and he stumbles back. Instinctively, I look behind myself, before turning to him. My cheery demeanour and psychopathic smile have both long since faded, leaving my look decidedly unamused. I glance over to Max, who seems horrified.
"What?" I turn back to the policeman and shake my head to show I'm missing something.
"Miss, are you alright? Who did this to you? Are you on something?" He's tripping over his own words. Must be a rookie. Probably why it seemed like he was on a massive power trip before.
That's when it dawns on me that I'm leaking blood everywhere. Stupid wounds don't know how to… Stay closed. Or, something.
I supress an impish grin. I touch my bleeding arm, being sure to cover my hand in blood "What's wrong officer?"
I then touch my neck and accidentally smear it. "Oh! This. I uh…"
I tap my other hand to my head cut, then rub my forehead, feigning ignorance, and bashfulness as I plaster myself. If I didn't look crazy before, I certainly do now. Actually, come to think of it, this is probably how a crazy person acts. A short lived mental battle concludes that I'm way too stressed and deserve some fun. Even if it's in a strange and unusual manner.
"I fell and tore myself up on some glass." I still find it hard to believe I got this messed up by falling on a few sharp rocks, and I'm the one it happened to.
Woah, I'm kind of lightheaded. Maybe I've lost a bit too much between now and the storm.
He looks like I'm playing a cruel joke on him. "If that's the case we should get you to a hospital, you need stitches."
Guess I am playing a small joke on him. Albeit there's no punchline except trying to see if I can weird him out. I think I'm winning. "Thanks for the offer, but I need to get my friend here home to her parents. Not to mention I don't have insurance and couldn't pay anything. Plus it's way worse than it looks."
"I'm willing to bet her parents can wait, you don't need insurance and can ignore the bill collectors if you really can't pay, since they have to treat you. And if it's worse than it looks, why're you swaying side to side?"
What? I'm not… Oh, I am. I lean against my truck for support.
He presses on, "Look, I can't exactly force you to go to a hospital, but I can make sure you're not driving for the rest of the night. Ignoring the fact that you yourself are a driving hazard in your current condition, your taillights are both blown out and the hatch for your truck bed is about to get torn off in a stiff breeze."
"Okay, what if you let me steal some bandages off of you? That way everyone's happy?" I try to ignore the unsolvable problem with my taillights and hatch.
He goes to open his mouth before Max cuts him off, "What if I drive?" She shoots me another annoyed look.
What? I didn't even do anything! And Max, please, I'm pretty sure you can't drive for shit. Not to mention I don't let anyone drive my truck. Good idea to get him off our backs though.
He lets the idea roll around in his head. "When do you think you might get those taillights of yours fixed?"
I pipe up, "First shop we come across." He gives me the universal I-Don't-Believe-You look. Oh, right. I covered my face in my own blood for a cheap (and silent) laugh. I probably don't look like the responsible one here. Bet it's the blue hair.
"We'll get it done officer." She makes eye contact with him and nods her head.
He lets loose an obnoxiously long sigh, "Okay. Fine. But if I ever see you two again with broken lights, or that one driving again" He gestures in my direction. "Douche." I mumble. "You'll be coming with me."
"Thank you, sir."
"Now let me get something for uh… Your friend here." The sideward glance he gives me as he walks away indicates that he thinks I'm completely mad.
I turn to Max with a smile on my face. This is actually going way better than I expected! She doesn't share my enthusiasm though, her eyes are hard and seem like they're trying to set me on fire.
"What?"
Even though it's getting dark out by this point, I can still see her face turn red. She practically hisses, "What is your problem Chloe!?"
"Alright, alright, sorry about the blood thing. Thought I could weird him out enough to make him go away or something."
My reply only incenses her further. "Do you know how many times I had to rewind just now!?" I notice she has a small line of blood dripping out of her nose.
Oh. I'm not quite sure how to respond to that one. Does she want me to say sorry for something that never happened and I didn't do?
The officer comes back before I can come up with a response. He's holding a box. "Okay, so here's some of the basics that can keep you going, until you eventually cave in and get some stitches. If you need me to, I can wrap your arm and cover up your head for you."
"Sure, yeah, whatever you need." I blurt out.
He takes my arm and places the box on the ground. I try to use the ensuing silence to drum up some kind of reaction to Max's outburst, but nothing is coming up.
"Remember to keep it dry no matter what. I'm not sure why they've stopped, but when, and I mean when, they start bleeding again, you need to give in and get those stitches."
"Uh, yeah. Thanks officer." I can't help but sound uncomfortable.
"Have a good day sir, and thank you."
"Drive safe, get those lights fixed and repair your trucks' hatch. And under no circumstances let that one drive." He points at me again. I narrow my eyes at him.
His cruiser pulls away. "You'll probably have to drive for a while Maximus, that dude is totally going to stalk us." I try to wipe off most of the blood I dragged over myself. I'm sure I get most of it.
She doesn't say a word as we get back in. "Okay, what did I even do that was so bad?"
"Well for starters, you punched him in the face."
I do my best to supress a laugh and smile, because I know it'll only succeed in making her angrier. I fail miserably.
"See!? This is what I'm talking about! You don't care about anything and nothing is serious to you! You were never like this when we were kids, what happened to you?"
My eyes almost bulge out of their sockets at that last comment. I start to compose a list of responses. Like for starters, how I actually have always been like this. Just because you never went with me when I felt like causing trouble doesn't mean I didn't do it. At that, guess what, Caulfield. People change.
And what kind of fucking question is 'what happened to you'!? My fucking father died that's what happened! My only friend bailed on me! A psychopathic photographer murdered my crush! I got drugged and abducted! My mother was killed in a giant tornado! My hometown is in ruins! Everything I've ever cared about has either been killed, destroyed, stabbed me in the back, or some fucked up combination of all three! And to top it all off, I've somehow died a dozen times in a single week!
My hands turn into fists.
Max seems to have realised she crossed a line. "I'm sorry." She lets out an exasperated breath, "I didn't mean it like that, meeting the new you is the most amazing thing ever. But it's just that you keep-"
"Caulfield, you're going to stop talking. Then you're going to drive this truck down this highway until you find a motel to stop at." My voice is cold and distant. It's taking way too much effort to not blow up at her.
She clumsily paws at the gear stick. And we start to coast. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"Caulfield, I said SHUT UP!" My eyes open wide and I bear my teeth at her when I turn and shout.
She recoils slightly and her hands begin shake on the wheel. She hits the gas a bit too much and she startles herself, making her slam the brakes. She eases off and the truck starts to move normally again.
...
I lean against the door and stare out the window. It's gone from dark when the officer showed up to pitch black. There aren't any stars in the sky, but a few planes drift around. I can barely see the silhouettes of trees in the forest.
Some prick in a coup screams on by as he honks his horn. Max gets startled enough that she slams the breaks again and leans into the curb. For the second time, the truck coasts and turns back onto the road.
I cradle my head in my hands. Why am I even mad at her? It was just an offhand comment, not like she meant anything by it. I look over and she's still shaking.
"Here, pull over. I'll drive." My voice is flat and worn out.
"But what about the-"
"Officer friendly is long gone, and I'm feeling better to."
She visibly tries to think of a counter, but gives up.
The truck stops in the middle of the road this time as Max tries to put it into park. I get out and walk around. Opening the door, I push her away and make her climb over the centre-console.
I slam down the gas, causing the engine to commit to a strange hybrid of roaring, and screaming in agony. Max looks at me worriedly.
I just want to sleep. Take a shower to. And I can't stop thinking about having a smoke. Wish we'd pass by a bar. I think I might also be starving to death.
…
At least watching the trees fly by is somewhat cathartic.
…
I'm calmed enough that I try asking myself some questions. I pick up where I left off and try to figure out why I'm still mad at Max. I did blow up at her over nothing. Sure, the What Happened To You question is a bit inflammatory, but doesn't merit me nearly biting out her throat.
A series of lights pop up in the distance. Civilisation.
Where was I? Oh, right. I grip the steering wheel tighter and look over at Max. She's shrunk into the chair and seems like she's trying to hide from me.
"Okay. I'm sorry. I… I shouldn't have blown up at you like that." She raises her head to look at me. "Shut up, I'm not done yet."
I don't exactly have this conversation planned out, but I need things to be level with Max. Suddenly the engine noise cuts out and the accelerator isn't giving any gas. I look at the fuel gauge and it's decidedly empty.
I lightly punch the steering wheel, "You motherfucker." It's tough to be legitimately angry when you're so burned out. The truck comes to a stop.
I suppose I should be happy that I keep an old jerry can in the cabin. Always knew the wretched thing would be useful. Sucks that it's not filled with anything.
"If you haven't guessed it yet, we're out of gas. I'm going to walk ahead and see if I can't find a station fill this up with." I pull out the hunk of plastic.
"Coming with?" I tilt my head, and force a conciliatory smile with a shrug of my shoulders.
She seems to think before nodding.
I put on my jacket before we get out, and start walking side by side.
After about a minute Max looks at me expectantly.
"I know, I know. Like I was saying." I rub the bridge of my nose.
"I'm sorry for freaking at you. It was uncalled for. I'm still fucked up from today, it was really fucking weird for me. And before you go on about how fucked and insane it's been for you, I get that it's been shitty for you to." My arms flail around as I speak.
"I've never been in that type of situation before. Hell, for half of it I felt like a completely different person."
"You know it's a bad day when you feel like a passenger in your own body." I say, trying to lighten the mood.
We pass under a streetlight and I can see her face is one of concern. I can also see some wheels spinning in her head.
A silence sets in.
She tepidly asks, "Was that when you were…-"
"Yeah. But let's not talk about that, I've been thinking about it all day and the last thing I need is to be more weirded out."
Another silence begins to develop. My stomach groans loudly.
"Ugh, I'm going to starve before we even get to a shop."
"Chlo, have you eaten anything today?"
"No, but you haven't either."
She grabs her stomach.
"I hope you can pay for your own food Caulfield, I've only got like fifteen bucks, unless you can convince the cashier that I'm good for opening a tab."
"I've got a twenty."
"Then I guess we'll feast like queens on some French fries and a smoothie."
Another pause before I speak, "So you never really said what your own life has been like since you left me behind." A degree of bitterness sneaks through what I mean to be more of a probing question.
She immediately grabs her arm. I'd change the subject since she's so uncomfortable, but I do want an answer- A part of me… Well, most of me, for some fucked up reason, hopes she's been just as miserable as I've been. With the exception of Rachel, my life has been a living hell. It'd be nice to know the only person I know who's still alive is just as messed up as I am.
It's obvious that she's been preparing for this in some form. Probably since we first met up and I bailed her out during Prescott's parking lot assault. I asked her then, but she dodged it pretty hard.
"Well… Could've been better, could've been worse I guess."
"Weak Caulfield. You and I both know I'm looking for an actual answer here."
Her face is visibly red as we pass under a streetlight. I smile to myself. She's way too bashful. And easy to call out.
"Well… Surprise, I wasn't exactly the big partying type." She swings her head at me.
"Are you trying to say something Shorty?" I playfully punch her arm.
"Ow. See, that's your problem- You like to hit things way too much."
"Take that back, Maximus!" Another light tap.
"You really think you can beat a time traveller?"
"Uh, yeah? Especially when they're named Maxine Caulfield." A gentle one-two combo lands on her shoulder.
"Hey! You know it's Max. Not. Maxine."
"Do something about it, Maxine." I pretend to dodge and weave.
"Guess you don't get an answer to your questions then."
Well, there goes the wind out of my sails. "Okay, fiiine. You win."
"I mostly just hung out the two or three friends I made early on."
Not an unreasonable statement. Hell, it's kind of surprising she didn't branch out more. But I still feel an irrational jealousy well up inside me. It's not that she hung out with other people that's getting to me- I haunted Arcadia Bay with more people than I can count. It's that she called them friends. It feels like some kind breach of sacred trust. I only had one friend when she was gone, if I could even call her that.
I know it's nonsensical, but I guess that's why they call it irrational. I need more info.
"Close to anyone?"
"Like we were?" Caulfield replies out of hand. I can feel myself burnup. I hope she said that because that's what she's thinking, and not what she knows I'm thinking. Maybe Max knows me a bit too well.
Thank God it's too dark for her to see my face.
"Not really, no. But me, Fernando and Kristen were… Uh, are, pretty tight."
I'm so happy Chloe's mellowed out a bit. Even if she did use me as a human punching bag for a few minutes there. The way she flipped out earlier was downright scary. So was the way she talked about being a different person during the storm. I guess we're both a little unhinged.
"I mostly just hung out the two or three friends I made early on." Really just two. But saying two or three hopefully makes me sound like I'm slightly less of a massive loner in the eyes of the punk rocker.
"Close to anyone?" She says after a moment of contemplation. She's obviously asking if I had a steady date. Not that I even had an unsteady one. Or one at all.
I blush when I remember Chloe's wardrobe kiss dare was the closest I've come to doing anything with anyone. Let alone having a relationship. Well, I say remember. It's been constantly on my mind in one form or another.
I decide to sidestep the question in an attempt to preserve whatever standing I have in her eyes. "Like we were?" Her silence says she already caught me out and is waiting for me to come clean- But I persevere.
"Not really, no. But me, Fernando and Kristen were… Uh, are, pretty tight." I dawns on me that I'm doing the same thing I did to Chloe five years ago. I haven't texted them once. Albeit, unlike with Chloe they haven't reached out to me, but the point still stands.
She glances at me. I feel as if she's analyzing my every movement.
"Fernando… He's your… Boyfriend?"
"No, just a guy friend." I need to figure a way out of this conversation.
"Okay. Let me rephrase, any boyfriends?"
Who am I kidding? In the week we've been back together Chloe has seen through every one of attempts to get out of a question. She probably just wants me to admit how much of a hipster loser I am. I'm delaying the inevitable.
"Nah. Most of the guys in Seattle are weird or just unhinged. Or are just the super Bro types."
I look over to her, but it's too dark to make out any features. Though I do notice her eyebrows move in contemplation.
"Yeah, sure, not one of several million guys isn't crazy. How about Kristine, or anyone else?" My heart rate picks up.
"Kristine or anyone else?" I reply dumbly.
"Kristen? Whatever her name was. How about girlfriends?"
"Nope. What, you want to get a bottle and start spinning it?" Woah, that was a pretty good derail. I can't believe I just came up with that.
We've made it into the rest stop centre and mutually walk towards the nearest gas station- Still quite a walk away.
She seems flustered for a second. "Okay Maxington, send a few my way."
"How about I return what you sent at me?"
"Okay, how has my life been for the past five years?"
We pass under another streetlight and I see a pained smile. "Wonderful."
"Was I close to anyone?" She continues. "Well, you already know about Rachel. That's about it for me."
"What about Justin?" She seemed like she was on good terms with him back at Blackwell.
"Who?"
"Justin? The stoner skater?"
"Oh! Yeah, no. We sometimes hung out together, but weren't exactly friends." She shrugs.
She continues, "As for boyfriends, I think you asked me that a few days ago. Never had anything… uh, serious. Guys are gross." Another shrug, but coupled with a tilt of the head at me.
"Girlfriends?" I press on.
Despite having no light, I can tell she's becoming fidgety. She sighs, "Uh… I guess not, no."
Must be Rachel Amber. I can't help but be a pinch jealous of the two of them. Chloe because she seems to actually live life, and Rachel because I'm floundering in my attempt to not develop a crush on Chloe. I've been failing miserably on that front since her dare, to be honest.
Just a kiss Caulfield. And a dare at that. Plus, she was kind of freaked out when I made good on it. There's nothing there.
Time for a new subject.
Before I can come up with something, Chloe cuts in, "Guess we're here. You know how to work a pump, right?" She reaches into my pocket, pulls out my wallet and takes the twenty in it. I try to get mad at her for having no concept of personal space, but I only blush. "I'll go in and buy a buffet with my fifteen bucks, plus pay for the gas. Use pump number one!" She practically throws the oil can at me, before sprinting into the store.
I shove the jerrycan into Max and outright run into the store. I need a smoke so badly- I haven't had any in two and a half days. I'm pretty sure that's why I'm losing my mind, and my already short enough temper. Not to mention I wanted out of that awkward conversation.
Going by the fact that I don't have enough to feed the both of us, Max would be pissed if I spent nearly half my budget on a pack. Probably going to have to lift them.
Throwing open the door, I size up the cashier. A bald old man. Definitely going to watch me like a hawk, and know when I'm trying to hide something. Nothing is ever easy, is it?
I pick up the things I'm going to buy first. A few tiny bags of chips, and a soda. I saunter over to the counter and see my opportunity. My brand is right next to the candy. I surreptitiously grab both a pack, and some candy, throwing them in my pocket. If he notices I'm walking out with something, I can just give him the candy.
I hear the door open again and I look behind me. It's Caulfield. And she has a nose bleed. For fuck's sake.
I can only assume something, somehow, goes horribly wrong in my flawless plan. I wait for her at the counter as the old man stares me down.
"Uh, hey Chloe did you get my soda?" She punches my pant pocket where I'm keeping my ill-gotten almost-gains. I flash her the most desperate eyes a human's ever seen.
She taps me again. "Yeah! Right here." Reaching into my pocket is the most painful thing I've ever done. Max, you can not have any idea how badly I need these, and how on edge I am. I mournfully hand them off to her below the counter. I hate you and your good Samaritan nature so much Max. Do you really need to put them back?
She perks up, "Cool. Which number was the pump you're paying for?"
"One…" I sigh out.
She walks out the door. I pay for our garbage and gas, but as I'm walking out the cashier calls out to me, "I hope you know that you're supposed to pay for cigarettes and candy, you blood covered psycho."
Oh, right. I probably am still sort of stained from my weird game with the officer. Do most people confront blood covered psychos by calling them blood covered psychos? Doesn't seem very smart.
I lose my patience and dramatically drop everything on the ground. I shout, "What cigarettes!? What candy!?" as I systematically turn out all of my pockets.
I'm not actually all that angry this time. More depressed that I don't have what he's accusing me of.
He seems shocked at my sudden outburst. I take his silence as an opportunity to gather my crap off the floor. I walk by the same fridge I originally got my soda from, and open it. I take a water bottle and call out to the dumbfounded man, "I'm taking this as payment for the emotional trauma you've put me through!"
He tilts his head and stares at me. Wonder how many times he's had this happen. I saunter out the door.
Wait. Shit! Fuck! I should've grabbed a pack. Why am I so stupid?
Well, too late now. I sombrely walk to Max, knowing I'm going to have to apologise for something I don't even remember happening, and arguably never did.
"I'm sorry… Dunno what I did, but I know I regret it." My apology is flat and half hearted.
She smiles as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out the object of my desires. The pack of cigarettes practically has a divine glow. "I'm keeping the chocolate though."
I laugh madly and kiss her on the forehead. "Max Caulfield! The world's latest and greatest time travelling delinquent! You're amazing!"
I lean down and pick up the jerrycan, "Here, I'll take this. I've waited all day, and I owe you one- I can make it another few minutes without lighting up, for the trip back. Probably."
I try to use all my willpower to stop myself from turning bright red after she kisses me on the forehead. No success, but at least it's dark out and I can walk around the glare of the streetlights.
"Here, I'll take this. I've waited all day, and I owe you one- I can make it another few minutes without lighting up, for the trip back. Probably." The blue haired punk picks up the surprisingly heavy plastic container with ease.
I decide to push my luck. "So you were saying sorry?"
I'm pretty sure I can see her joy fall straight to the ground. "Uh... Yeah. Not sure what made you rewind, but I'm sorry about it."
"Not sure? You didn't have anything on you, and he still caught you shoplifting."
"… Yeah."
"You punched him in the face. Well, I think you did. I didn't have a good view. You also swung at the officer from earlier again."
"Seriously? No way. It's like the universe wants me to attack him."
As if on cue a police cruiser rolls by. The window rolls down, "Saw your truck back up there was abandoned, you two okay?"
Chloe speaks up, "Fine officer, just outta' gas."
"Be safe, fix your truck's hatch, and get your taillights fixed."
He points to me, "And make sure you're the one driving."
He speeds up and drives away. I hear Chloe mutter "Officer Fuckstain" under her breath.
"Seriously, what's your problem with him?"
"I don't like him. Guess it's instinctive. Plus he keeps saying I can't drive my own truck… Anyway, I'll try to keep a cooler head from now on. Sorry that I keep attacking random people." She smiles lamely at me.
She hangs her free arm over my shoulder and we walk in silence.
I jump in the passenger side as she empties the oil can once we get back.
The door swings open and slams shut as Chloe jumps back in. "We'll have to go back to the station to fill up the rest of the tank, you run in and pay him with what we've got left. Pump one, again." She pushes an assortment of coins and dollars at me.
I start to count as she plays with the pedals and ignition for some reason. The engine coughs and sputters back to life. There's an extra twenty I didn't know we had, but it's covered in drawings. Though without it, we'd only have about three bucks left.
We pull in and I get out. When I walk into the store, he looks behind me- probably expecting Chloe.
"You again? Where's the crazy one?" He seems like the kind grandfather type to me.
"I made her wait outside. We ran out of gas and need to fill up the rest of the tank." I smile.
"Alright, how much you got?" I pass off the twenty. He stares at it, then me. He sighs, "Not that it's any of my business, but you don't seem like the type to be friends with her crowd. She's not the good sort."
I awkwardly stare at my feet. "I guess." He's certainly not wrong. In one day she's assaulted two completely random people.
"So how does a good kid like you meet a blue haired, blood stained woman covered in bandages?"
"We used to be friends as kids. I went back to my home town in Arcadia Bay recently were I found her again." His eyes open slightly.
"Oh dear, Arcadia Bay you say? Wow, I'm so sorry. Heard all about it on the news. You're lucky you weren't in there when that tornado struck." He pauses, "Tell you what, take all the gas you need. And maybe pick up something more to eat than just a bag of chips and a soda. Something tells me that you're hurting for money to, going by the fact that you tried to pawn off someone's drawing as legal tender." He hands me an actually usable twenty.
I walk up to the first edible thing I see. A box of donuts. "Can I?"
He smiles as if he were amused, "I just said you can take something, didn't I?"
I thank him several times before walking out. He and the policeman were both awesome, I couldn't get into a fight with them if I wanted to- unlike Chloe.
"C'mon, c'mon Caulfield! Hurry!" She hisses at me.
"What? What's wrong this time?"
"Senile bastard in there let us have way more gas than we had money for. We should get out before he realises it."
I laugh, "Chloe, he knows that. He decided to give us extra. Plus he gave me a box of donuts for free." I hold them out.
"What? But how?"
"Maybe if you don't try to punch out every other person you meet, they might decide to help you." I punch her on the shoulder with my free hand.
She pauses in thought for a minute.
"Weak. We need to teach you to fight. Now get in, I'm hungry and I'm getting headaches by having this pack and not being able to smoke it here."
She steps on the gas and pulls away.
"Think we'll have enough to make it back to Seattle?"
She pulls out a lighter and a stick. "Should have just barely enough to make it." She puts it up to her mouth and breathes in. "Oh God, I hella needed this." Leaning back into her chair, "So what do you do, Maxington?" She cracks the window open and lets out some white smoke.
"What do I do?"
"Yeah, I never asked you before. Like, what do they call it…? Your vices."
"Uh. I take pictures?"
"No, no, no. Like, I'm willing to bet you don't smoke weed, right?"
"Not really, no."
"And you definitely don't use cigarettes. Do you drink?"
"Sometimes, I guess." A lie. I haven't had an ounce to drink since I hung out on the Freemont Troll with Fernando and Kristen forever ago. They were wasted, but I only had a slight buzz. Too worried about looking stupid then. And too worried about saving face with Chloe to tell the truth now.
"Ha! I knew it! MegaMax, we totally need to get you to a bar. It'd be awesome to see you let loose for once."
Guess I dug that hole for myself. I'll worry about it later though. I yawn.
"Yeah… I'm exhausted to. Mind if we give up on that whole motel thing? I could really do with some shut eye- you cool sleeping in here?"
"Can I eat?" I tap the chocolate bar in my pocket.
"Oh right!" Her eyes light up. "You were hella awesome and scored us some bonus free food! I call donuts!"
We don't really have time to talk as we devour what little we have.
At some point, I slip into a food coma.
…
The Two Whales is lovely. Joyce is humming along to the Juke-Box. She walks around and drops a plate at my table.
"Thanks so much for everything, Hun. You're like a second daughter to me."
My stomach lurches. "I'm sorry Joyce. I'm so sorry." Tears begin to well up inside me.
She looks confused. "For what, dear?" She disappears.
The sun sets and it's pitch black outside. Chloe marches in. She's angry.
"Why the fuck did you leave me like that? What did I ever do to you?"
Mark Jefferson appears from thin air. He speaks up, "I've got say Max, even by my standards that's positively heartless. Maybe a time out in my dark room will help you learn about what she's going through? Perhaps I could even learn from you at the same time. After all, you're so much better than I am. I never killed a thousand people by just waving my hand."
"Fuck it. She's not worth the breath. Max is just some child." Chloe speaks with venom.
No. Please. Not again.
The tape wraps around my legs and arms. I struggle.
An insidious smile grows on her. "The only reason I've bothered to hang out with you at all is because you're like my puppet. I say jump, you ask how high. I say reverse time, you ask when."
She walks behind me and whispers in my ear. "It pathetic how badly you're crushing on me. Why would I ever want someone like you?"
The lights in the dark room are too bright.
Chloe briefly kisses Rachel. She throws her down on the couch and climbs on top of her. They begin to make out.
Jefferson takes a photo of me. "Pity you'll never have that."
I'm back in the Two Whales. Cars are speeding by at impossible speeds. People zoom around. The sun rises, and sets before the moon comes out. The process repeats.
I watch myself walk out of the bathroom with a mixture of hatred and joy on my face. She calmly walks over to me as the chaos unfolds around us.
"Don't you just wish you were somebody else?"
I struggle at the tape.
"You poor thing." Her face is smugness incarnate.
The conceit turns to rage as the diner's doors swing open yet again.
I hear the car door open.
…
"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up." Chloe whispers as she gets in.
Max passes out from eating too much. I grab my bottle of water and opt to go outside and finish off my smoke.
The air is cool and breezy. The trees I can see waver in the wind. I take a long drag and lean against the truck.
"Now what?" I speak to myself.
"Get Max back to her parents, and then what happens?"
"They let me stay for a week, before I get into argument with someone over nothing and get kicked out."
"Or I stay for a month, then I out wear my welcome, and get asked to leave after way too many hints."
"Max wouldn't let that happen."
I grunt in amusement at my own hopeless optimism. "Max would totally let that happen."
"No matter what, I still need to get her back home. She's saved my life a few times now. Not mention she ignored me when I tried to convince her to kill me. I owe her that much."
"Maybe there's some kind of relief fund for the survivors? Could maybe pay for food and gas with that money, at least for a while."
"Probably could, but they'd want a dozen forms of identification and video proof I was there when it happened. All I've got is my driver's license. One that's going to expire pretty soon anyway."
"Could maybe head south to Mexico. Supposed to be super cheap to live there. Pay my through the US doing odd jobs."
…
"Getting off track. Focus."
"Won't Max freak if I try to leave?"
"Nah. She doesn't really care about me. She's got her own life in Seattle, she said so herself. Kristina and Ferdinand are part of her group. Hell, she even drinks now. New Max has her own life. Her own thing."
"Even if she does freak, what's the alternative? One way or another we're going to go our separate ways all over again. Might as well do it in the middle of the night without anyone screaming, shouting or crying. Tear it off like a band-aid."
"Plus I should learn my lesson. First with Max, then Rachel. No sense in it happening with Max again. Everyone cares, until they don't."
I feel tears well up in my eyes. I stay quiet as I think to myself.
I don't want to be alone all over again. I can't deal with getting left behind either. Fuck.
Everyone I know is dead. I'm out in the middle of fucking nowhere. I have three dollars to my name and a shitty beat up truck. How is my life so miserable?
"No. Nope. Not doing this." I need to stop thinking. Can't I just turn off my brain or something?
I throw my cig on the ground and stamp it out.
"Should probably try to clean myself up."
I take off my torn jacket and wife beater as I unscrew the water bottle.
"Fuck!" I yelp, when I realise I still have David's gun tucked in my waist. Thank god that Officer never searched me. Need to figure out a place to hide this later.
I pour the water bottle onto my face and try to scrub away the dried blood. Ditto for my neck.
"Ugh, it's cold to. Probably the closest thing I'm going to get to that shower I've been needing until I get to Max's though."
I let the increasingly frigid air dry me off before I put my tank top and jacket back on.
Opening the door, I see Max's head lean up.
"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up."