Chapter Three

There isn't a happy ending to everything; I played the part I was meant to, I was one of the many sacrifices in a story larger than Arcadia Bay's. A part of me is overjoyed, I have Warren, Chloe is alive and the people who played any part in Rachel's death are behind bars. However, I'm going to do something both selfish and selfless. I'm not happy about it because things will change, I may be alone.

Before what I'm going to do, which might not even work, I want to see him one last time. Due to the storm, which showed no mercy, the dorms are currently being rebuilt and so, kindly, a local motel offered up their rooms to the Blackwell students at a generous price. The only thing that remained from Blackwell were the steps outside and, even then, they were crumbling. "Warren," I smile but there is a hint of sadness, which, thankfully, he doesn't notice. "I just came to see you and thank you for the movie the other night, it really helped distract me."

"You don't have to thank me," he grins and I feel a pang of guilt, I'm going to leave this person. "Clearly my powers of persuasion worked, I didn't think you'd want to come after everything."

There is something different about this boy; it was definitely something that I liked. He wasn't entitled, he was someone that didn't take themselves too seriously and he could talk for hours but also be comfortable in silence. In a lot of wonderful and weird ways, he showed me how to be content with myself. "How could I pass up a chance with the mad scientist?" I tried to keep it up but I couldn't, I crumpled.

Quickly, he ushers me into his room and closes his door to give us privacy from the students lingering in the hallway. "Max, what's up?" He says quietly, his voice unusually serious. "I've never seen you like this before and it's freaking me out."

Why did everything have to be so difficult? I could have been happy with him but not at the price of Rachel's life or Chloe's happiness, I can't do that to people. I can't play God and decide who should be evidence for Jefferson's sick, cruel and shitty photo shoots of innocent girls. "I'm going back, Warren," I say quietly. "I can't sit here whilst Chloe is in her room everyday mourning for her girlfriend so I'm going to go really far back."

For a moment he turns away, stretching his arms behind his head and letting out an exasperated, frustrated sigh. I had told Warren about the photographs, he had help me practice the power I have and he knew my progress. "Max, you can't," he faces me and his expression I can't decipher, it's torn. "I've read the sci-fi novels but I've also seen your power, you've not even practiced enough. You'll screw everything up, what if you get stuck? Everything won't be the same, you and I won't have-"

Why is he making it harder for me? "What? Kissed? We won't have kissed?" I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose with my fingers. "Warren, I love you, okay? But a girl died, my best friend has been crying in her room for something like three weeks now? I was kidnapped by our photography teacher and this is so fucked up! What kind of world do we live in? I mean, who does this? I can't anymore, I have to go back, it's the only thing I can do! Warren, please."

As I talked, let everything out, I slowly sunk closer to the ground and he did with me. I'm drowning in incoherence and emotion; it's becoming too much for me to handle. I want to wash away the guilt of Rachel being dead and me doing nothing about it, I want Rachel to be alive and to be able to sleep at night. "It's okay," he whispers, cradling me. I want to be independent but right now, I need this. "Please don't do this."

"I have to, Warren."

Before he releases me from his tight embrace, he leans over me and gets his camera. "Then you're going to need this to come back if you do something wrong," he mutters, sulking about my decision. I understand. "And remember this, Max, read the back when you feel like coming home." I am confused at first but then he kisses me and I see the flash.

The photograph is held so tightly in his hands and he's writing something on the back and I understand, it's his last message to me as present Warren. He hands me the photo and I see his glassy eyes, filled with tears waiting to spill. "Goodbye, Warren." I try to smile but I can't, then I'm gone and walking down the hallway. That is the last I will ever see of my boyfriend, the current Warren who likes me.

On the polished wood in front of me is a green cereal box, my favorite cereal, which is empty. From the bowl in front of me, which has no trace of food and a residue of milk, I suspect that I've eaten the last part. The apartment is as I remember it, as it is in the photo. It's white and blue in the dining room, each room in this place has a designated color. That's the way my mother wanted to decorate it. "You're quiet today, Maxine," she says from the other end of the table, eating her organic breakfast or something. "What's on your mind?"

Warren, mostly. "Nothing."

But mom, you haven't met the boy I'm missing. There is a possibility that I may never see him again and, if I do, it's because something I've done has had horrible consequences that aren't repairable. I was a girl, who came from an ordinary family and didn't expect to amount to much. Now, I'm Max. The girl who can rewind if she misses her favorite show on TV. "I'm going to head to Arcadia Bay later."

In this reality, I had never said that before. I had improvised in a scene I had altered. We had talked about going shopping for the things I'd need when I went to Blackwell, the place where my life went to shit and the place where I enjoyed my life the most. It's strange. My mother stands in the doorway as I wash my bowl in the sink, my parents have always been the type to hover. I know it's because they care but sometimes, I felt so trapped. "Why is that, honey? Are you going to see Chloe? That would be really nice, I'm sure."

I lean against the kitchen counters, my skin grazing the smooth, cold marble. "Yep," I lift myself up, sitting on top of them. "I'll stay with her, I'm sure she won't mind."

My mother tuts disapprovingly, her hands poised on her hips and, suddenly, I feel like a fugitive. "You cannot just show up like that, Maxine! I didn't raise you to be that way, did I?" Moms have this power to make you feel guilty, even if you don't necessarily agree with them. "I'm sure you can go another time, when you've asked them a week in advance at least."

Let's try this again, Max. Say something less stupid.

I lean against the kitchen counter, feel my skin graze the smooth, cold marble for the second time. I have never experienced truly living inside of a memory but, so far, nothing has gone wrong. "Yep," I lift myself onto the counter. "I've asked Chloe and she said her parents would be cool, so I'm going there tonight."

"You can't just show up on her parents like that, Maxine."

Rewind. Stupid.

This time I hadn't packed my bags. "Maxine," my strict mother shot me daggers.

Rewinding again.

And then I hadn't taken time from work. "I can't believe you wouldn't think about that!"

Rewinding.

"So, mom, I took time off from the cafe, I asked Chloe and her parents and they said that was cool and I've packed my bags," I breathe. "Are we okay?"

"I didn't need all that information, honey," She smiles and I try to contain my sass. "I'd have been fine with you're just going."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed~