Attention! For the few who read the original third chapter before I took it down, I had to make some changes. Sorry for those who read it and feel a bit like you're rereading. But this one's different in a lot of ways. The fourth chapter's up right behind it though. Thanks for stopping by, have a Great day and Enjoy!

xx

It felt like I took days to get back into gear. The shopkeep didn't bother returning to his register. He just stood there between me and the door, eyeing me down.

"You too." he barked at me, and it shook me from my stupor. "Get out."

What?

I looked down at my box of sheets, juggling it in my arms. How did I manage not to drop this? It might've been the shock.

"But sir, I need these photo sheets."

"I don't give a care what you need. Find them somewhere else."

"You're the only shop in Arcadia Bay that sells these kinds of sheets. "

He didn't listen to me, only stormed off behind his counter and slammed his hands down on the surface. "Ain't my problem kid."

"Are you seriously going to just kick me out like this? I didn't even do anything wrong."

"You know that girl-"

"Yea but I'm not with her." I felt my face getting hot and it spilled down to my arms. I didn't like being so angry, especially toward someone I didn't know. I felt like I was falling out of my skin and my heart pounded. "I haven't seen her in a long time, it's not fair that you'd just kick me out of here for something out of my control. It's not my fault she was stealing from you I didn't bring her here!"

He only kept glaring at me, but it was frayed on the edges, hesitation lurking under them.

"I don't know what yours and Chloe's deal is but I just came here to get my sheets. Just please let me buy these. I can't pass the year without them."

He just stood there for forever. Glaring at me and then at the ground and then at something else. And the clock pounded the whole time, echoing around the room while I trembled in my shoes and did my best to muffle my heaving. I never demanded anything from people, and even this was nothing more than hopeless desperation, but I felt super uncomfortable and all I wanted to do was get the hell out of here.

The man finally sighed, and the anger on his face dissolved. "Alright." he said, anchoring himself on his counter. "Alright fine. Hurry up and buy it. Then get lost."

Yes!

I hoped he couldn't see it but I wanted to jump up and do a fist pump or scream or cry or something because the relief and joy that washed over me was too much to keep in. I managed though, and only a real little real happy squeak came out of me. I nodded furiously at him and nearly dashed for the counter, hitting Chloe's plastic pouch of needles on the way. The shiny rods twinkled with a little sound and for a minute I just stared at it, and I felt the man's gaze burning into me the whole time. I picked it up and set it down beside the tiny jars she left behind when I reached his counter. And when I set down my box of 50 bundle photo sheets the jars danced with the sudden weight, strong colors of deep red and rich blues and greens and orange and yellow. Each jar no taller than my thumb and maybe twice as wide; tattoo inks.

The man told me my total for the sheets and I handed him the crisp hundred in my pocket, scouring the empty parking lot outside for any signs of Chloe. But it looked just as secluded as it did in here except it was kind of warm in here and smelled faintly of coffee and mothballs when outside smelled like sea salt from the nearby shore and offered cracked concrete instead of tile floors and threw out the beginning shades of a waning day. But no Chloe. Still absolutely no sign of Chloe.

The man counted out my bills in his hand and the paper fluttered like bird wings in my ear. A newspaper skimmed across the lot outside like a dying butterfly and I got hot all over and my skin started itching and I wanted the man to count faster. I looked down at Chloe's compromised loot and tilted my head. Chloe did tattoos now? Never would've thought. But then again I hadn't predicted fierce blue hair, a tat sleeve, and a glare that made your insides curdle in her future either. So much had changed.

Was that really Chloe?

I looked up at the man-he glanced at me in intervals-I looked at Chloe's stuff again.

"Would my hundred cover these too?" I asked, pushing them at him.

He stopped counting and conflict surfaced in him. "You're making it hard to let you buy from here."

"She obviously needs them for something." I reasoned. "If I don't buy them now, she's only going to come back for them. And you won't be getting paid."

"You sound like you know her an awful lot for someone who hasn't seen her in a while."

I flinched, breaking away from the man's gaze. "We were close once. I can't say much about how she is now but if part of her is still the same as she was when we were kids I know she's not giving up until she gets what she came here for."

"Then that little shit can pay for it like everybody else."

"She's not going to do that." I insisted. "Look, I need to be able to come back here for when I run out of film again. Chloe needs these." I said, looking down at all the equipment. "And I need to prove to you that I'm not here on some tricky teenager stuff. Just let me pay for it."

He stared at me for a while, the pinch between his bushy eyebrows taunting me. "Fine. I haven't had any customers since that girl's hair used to be brown-"

"Chestnut."

"What?"

I blinked. "Her hair was chestnut."

"Whatever. If she comes in here again you're not getting anymore sheets from me."

"But I can't make her not come here,"

"Ain't my problem. Keep her away, or you're just gunna have to fail. Your total's 99.95. You get a nickel back.

I kept my eyes down. "Keep it."

The shopkeeper bagged up my things and handed it to me. I gave him a weak thanks and sulked out. The bell jingled and the wind stroked my cheeks when he said, "And kid, if I find anything's missing I'm calling the cops. You ain't peeved me yet so I'll leave you out of it. But she's been a pain in my back for too long."

I debated just walking off without acknowledging him, but I forced myself to nod and left and something withered in me as I let the door ring shut. The wind grabbed me up immediately, sending my hair flying all around and stroking against me. It helped a little, like it lifted the feeling away before it could settle for too long. It turned out the parking lot wasn't completely empty, and a monstrous truck sat all the way in the furthest corner of it, closest to the street. My heart clenched, and my throat shrunk into a froot loop.

Oh crap.

I wasn't one hundred percent, but I was pretty darn sure. That was Chloe's truck.

The walk over felt like miles, and like I did it under a microscope. I couldn't see her, and she probably wasn't even looking, but every move felt like a giant clunky one and my footsteps sounded like landslides in my ears. The wind kept me company and was probably what helped me dare the treacherous journey to the truck but when I got close enough to it I noticed a thin wisp of smoke dancing up from the other side. And my heart seized. If it could squeak like those doggy toys it would've done that too but the squeak just came out of my mouth instead.

Crap Crap Crap.

I made out her boots underneath the cab, crossed at the ankles and tapping. I couldn't see anything else though, the rest of her hidden behind her truck.

'Used' was a light way to describe it. If I could crumple a piece of paper and squish it real good and sprinkle some of Kate's beige paints all over it and pull it open again, it'd look like what I looked at now. It took some effort and a lot of pep talk to push the last yards to her back tire but once I reached it her bright blue spikes peeked out from behind the cab and I squeaked again. Thankfully not too audibly.

I saw enough to catch her head turn and a pale cheek and some long lashes and a soft eyebrow turned to me. The whole myriad shocked me into incoherent stupidity but the soft eyebrow oddly soothed me for some reason. They were still shaped the same.

At least the one was.

It was probably lame for me to say.

But I hid there for a while.

It was weird freaking out over Chloe, I never did in the past. Never in this way anyway. Usually I bounced in my shoes and rushed to go meet her at the door, or wanted to jump out of dad's car to dash to hers. Knowing she was near electrified me with excitement, but what I felt now was overwhelmingly reminiscent to anxiety. But then again the chick I glimpsed now wasn't exactly the chestnut haired, shiny faced girl I used to run to as a kid who'd spot me coming and come alive with this bright smile that felt like the sun on my face. Seeing Chloe then meant movie nights and adventures and Joyce's bacon and eggs for dinner and breakfast-because we were greedy and because I loved when the house got all warm from the stove and smelled so good our mouths watered and when the kitchen chirped with popping oil.

Now-Chloe didn't feel like that. Now-Chloe didn't promise all nighters or popcorn in the living room or going to bed with stomach aches from too much laughing. She didn't greet me with a cheesy punchline or clomp me with a wall of bubble gum shampoo when she hugged me.

Now-Chloe burned like hellfire and smelled like cigarettes and looked like sunshine lit aflame that was coated blue. Now-Chloe leaned against the side of a truck under a trail of smoke and clicked her boots. Her eyelashes were still long though, and her eyebrows still arched the same way. They were thinner though, and I kind of missed how full they used to be.

"You know I can see you right?"

I became a human doggy toy then, and the squeak I gave this time around was undeniably audible and I was coherent enough to catch a hard stare, piercing me like a bullet. I think my whole body flushed, if that was possible. I know just my face couldn't contain all the embarrassment that spilled through me. Her stare was like a slap and a command. Impatiently asking me what the fuck I wanted, even though I didn't say anything. I shrunk behind the truck so not even her beanie peaked through.

"You haven't been this shy to see me since the first time we met." Chloe said around the truck. Silence briefly settled, and then a pop and then a gust of smoke rose up above the truck.

Was it too late for me to run? She really seemed like she didn't want to be bothered.

I didn't know how much time passed, could've been a year for all I care.

"Is Max coming out to play or do I have to count to 10 and look for you?"

It took a while for me to pull my crap together and shove into sight. It took Chloe's gaze to latch onto me and I knew the exact moment because my body caught fire.

"There she is." Chloe said, and it was jagged. But she was struggling with something and it spilled through her eyes. She was already pissed, but she looked extra pissed.

Chloe pulled from her smoke and for a second three glowing embers stared at me. "So she lives. I'd have bet my place in hell I'd never see your face again."

She blew out a gray wall of fumes that made me cough. I caught her smirk as I batted it away.

"This is bonkers."

"And she speaks." Chloe proclaimed like a triumphant observation. She pushed off of her truck and strolled over to me. "I could tell you couldn't recognize me for shit." her voice thickened with pride.

It reminded me of when she used to freak about growing another inch. Except she was happier about it and less pissed. "Ha! Good luck catching up, Max. You'll never get as tall as me." She always got super pleased about that.

"You look so different."

"You look the same." Chloe said, walking up and examining me. I grimaced at her lit cigarette but she didn't notice. "I mean you look older. But the doe-eyed stare, the cluelessness and the clammy posture. That's Classic Max. Caulfield in the flesh."

I gaped, feeling the frown before I could fight it down. As soon as she saw it a tiny smirk cut up her face and I sighed from relief.

Life. I drank in that microscopic glimpse like a drop of water in a desert.

"I don't know what to say to that."

"What do you want to say?"

I hesitated. "Fuck you."

Her face cracked, and slits of humor peaked past the rage like a messed up canvas with light shining out of it. And it was weird s heck to look at but it thawed my muscles out enough to stop aching. I breathed easier, but I felt weirder too.

"Just say that then. But it's gunna take some work to get in these pants, Max. I'm not easy to get in the sack. "

"Ugh, gross." a rusty snicker came out of her, like old metal being bent. The rage dissolved a little until I could see the humor better, and it helped me feel less clunky.

Chloe took her last puff and stomped her cigarette out. "Let's ditch this shithole. Dude's totally watching us right now."

I jumped at the thought, eager to follow as she climbed in the truck but something clicked in my head and I hesitated. Chloe looked at me through her open window. "You comin, Maxi pad?"

I smacked my lips at her before I could stop myself and I scowled but I think it came across as a pout. I always sucked at aggression. Mirth gathered in her eyes again and it was weird. Even her happy expressions looked wrong. Like someone took them all and put them under a moody filter mixed with sarcasm, anger and sadness.

I worried about what the guy would think, watching us drive off right outside of his store. But I bought Chloe's stuff for her, it only made sense I'd talk to her. I could already feel the rush of possibilities starting to race so I just shook my head and hopped in. Because I did not have time to overthink anything right now.

Chloe's tires screeched against the concrete when she pulled out.

"So what's up, you came back to spend your senior year at Blackwell? That photography program had Max written all over it. How is it? Still a shithole? "

"I like it."

"Of course you do."

"How do you know I'm going to Blackwell?"

It meant a lot that she still remembered what grade I'm in. Remembering that I'm one year younger probably wasn't the biggest task but it'd been five years and Chloe looked like she went through a lot during them and she didn't even have to think about it.

"The Bay talks. That hasn't changed, like everything else."

"And it knows I'm in the photography program?"

"No, but I do. You had a hella photo fetish when we were kids, only makes sense."

I knew she didn't mean anything by it, especially not anything remotely corny. But it tickled me so pink and even though she hardly smiled and mostly frowned at the road I felt the widest grin creaking up my face until my cheeks started pinching. Chloe spotted it when she looked over because of my silence and her face soured and she grimaced and she shooed me away with a flimsy hand.

"Christ, can you not gush in here this baby's hella fragile."

"Ok."I squeaked, still grinning like crazy. I tried busying myself by moving the plastic bag on my lap but it didn't do anything. I tried tugging my smile back into a line. Took some deep breaths.

I saw Chloe's head turn in my peripheral. I glanced over to her examining me. Two seconds of her gaze combing my face and a snort came out of her.

"Try a little harder, Max." she suggested and the resisted laughter in her voice made it warmer despite her obvious protest to it and it made me feel funny. Shock and nostalgia were a weird combination. Now-Chloe sat beside me but young Chloe still swam in there and she peeked out a lot, like a vision under troubled water.

"Sorry." I muttered, mostly because I didn't know what else to say.

I got a scoff back, and I didn't look at her but I could tell she was shaking her head. "Still the same." I heard her say but she was glancing out the window.

The 50 bundle started digging into my thighs so I shifted it. I must've looked uncomfortable because Chloe looked over and suggested I stick it on the floor. So I did and I had to sweep aside some beer bottles and trash before I could.

"By the way I got the stuff you were trying to.. You know."

Chloe's gaze flickered on the road and she twitched a bodily response I didn't understand. "Thanks, I was running low on my shit."

"You do tattoos now?"

Chloe shrugged. "A girl's gotta make a living. Doesn't get much but it's something."

"And you do people that live around here?" the only people I could think of that lived in Arcadia Bay were washed up fishermen and hard working parents and the truckers that came by during their routes into the bigger cities. People never really stayed here. And the ones that came by were always just passing through. Who could Chloe possibly land a tattoo gig with-here-of all places?

"Well them and others. If I can snag a couple truckers I'll get what I can but they usually want something more official than a punk with a convenience store machine. But that's what the little teenies are for. Arcadia Bay's oozing with fucked up adolescents just begging to make an irreversible, potentially regrettable, physically altering decision. That's when I swoop in."

"That's kind of fucked up Chloe."

"It's kind of life Max." Chloe countered, glancing at me. "I can't stock up on cash by sitting my ass around doing nothing. And I wouldn't be caught dead bagging groceries at the market or shit like that. I'm my own boss."

She inflated at the last part, sounding really pleased.

It was actually kind of cool. I could never picture Chloe doing conventional jobs growing up, mostly because she pummeled it out of my head any chance she got.

'I'm tellin' you Max, nobody's gunna tell me what to do. I'm gunna do my own thing. And you can take pictures of everything and put it up on your, wall or something.'

Knowing Chloe ran her own tattoo scheme without anybody's help put me in awe. Like getting to know someone that cool made me really lucky.

"So, boss.." I started, and Chloe grinned and I felt myself smile too because I think she did it despite herself. "Is poorly executed shoplifting part of the business routine?"

"Can't run a shitshow without inventory."

"Why couldn't you just buy it? I thought you made money."

"Not a lot of money. Like I said. A bunch of teens in a town smaller than the universe's asshole don't bring in much. I'm just lucky my machine isn't fucked yet or I'd be screwed. I have to save every scrap of change I can get my hands on anyway if I'm trying to get out of here quicker."

That poked a hole in me.

"And go where?"

"Anywhere." Chloe said. Glancing at me and her eyes were hard. "I'm going wherever my RV takes me once I can afford one, but L.A.'s my first stop."

"Why L.A.?"

A shadow passed over her.

"Planned to start there not too long ago." Her words were heavy and covered us like smog. Like they were soaked in gallons worths of unmentioned. "Plus people are hella wild in L.A., know how to party. And I'd probably get some decent cash over there. Angsty teens by the thousands itching to make stupid decisions."

"And tattoo artist Chloe'll be there to irreversibly save the day?"

Chloe looked over and perked a thin eyebrow at me. She grinned a little bit but even that little twitch felt like it could slice me. "Fuck yea. I'd have to establish a client list first but I could do it. And I can bum some broke dropouts off Venice for a while til I figure out what else I wanna do. Doubt tattooing'll be a lifetime thing. I'll probably get bored of it later."

I looked away. It wasn't exactly a morally sound plan, but it was a plan. One Chloe sounded prepared to execute. She wasn't as jovial about it like she would've been if we were younger, but where her bright-eyed excitement would've been, laid solid determination. Like freedom sat at the end of the road and she'd get there relentlessly.

And.. I don't know, pummel it or something.

She talked about the future differently when we were kids. Her whole body buzzed and she'd hop around and drag me with her while she bounced and we'd both melt into a fuzzy laughing fit but the sureness of it felt the same. In those days Chloe talked about things with such confidence it was like we were getting up the next day to go and do it. And now that we were older, she could probably do just that. Was doing just that, from how determined she sounded.

Funny, because if I planned anything like that I'd tell myself I was nuts.

'You're high, Max.' I would've said. 'No more brownies for you.'

"You know it's funny. When Blackwell wouldn't shut up last year about all the new shit they had coming up and the professor they were bringing in for the new photography program I used to joke about you magically materializing out of the blue. Like a little Max fairy showing up just at the mention of photography. Like you could smell it or something."

I crinkled my nose. "Uh smell? That's a bit more like a dog than a fairy."

Chloe shrugged. "Eh, don't know what the fuck fairies do.. Except twinkle.

"I don't think I'd be a really good fairy then. I don't twinkle."

"Yea you do." I didn't know if it was how casually she said it, like a petal she plucked out the breeze-she'd laugh if she knew I said that-or how quickly it followed me but I couldn't make words for a while.

When the silence stretched on Chloe noticed and looked over after she squeaked her truck to a stop at a red light. "Don't get all Modest Max on me. At least the gushy one makes funny faces I can laugh at. If it makes you feel any better it's more of a dorky twinkle. Not like.. Those cheesy bullshit princess twinkles where they're supposed to be all spotless and pretty and shit. I'd punch you if you twinkled like that."

"Yea, feeling way better."

"Dude, you're a dork and it works on you, okay? Compliments may make you constipated but you're just gunna have to deal. You twinkle godamnit now accept it already cuz I can feel my ass dropping glitter just from saying it."

How did this turn into Chloe aggressively commending me?

Sigh.

How did I ever get into half the things Chloe dragged me in?

She's driving me around in a beat old pickup truck that smells like weed and cigarettes and flowers-which was weird-right after she tried stealing from a general store for crying out loud. And I just bought a bunch of ink and needles for some semi-shady side business she's running that's probably illegal for her to do because she's underage and her clients apparently are too.

"... Thank you?"

The light turned green and it took a while before Chloe pushed the gas. She shook her head though. "See? Dork.. Now I have to shower when I get back to my house."

"Hey um, did you want me to give you your things now? I might forget them if I leave them in the bag."

"Just leave em for now. I won't forget them cuz I need em bad. I'll just remind you when we get to Blackwell."

Oh yea. I hadn't even considered where we might've been going. But the road looked familiar now and I barely realized where we were. But good thing, because the day would be ending soon and I didn't know what the consequences were for breaking curfew.

Guess everything flew out of my head when I hopped in the car. Which now that I looked around at it, actually really suited her. The air conditioner most likely didn't work but her radio looked in good shape. Graffiti covered a majority of it and there was an ashtray up on the dashboard guess that's where the weed came from. Everything from the bobble head to the skull stuck to the windshield was worn. And when I took a second look at the truck floor I spotted a fierce blue bottle of hair dye tucked in the corner. The sun coated everything in amber and that could've been why it felt kind of warm in here.

I wanted to take a picture, but I didn't know if Chloe would bite my head off for it. Using twinkle in a sentence probably did things to her emotionally.

"Thanks for the ride by the way." Daylight went in that blaring stage that got fierce before dying. I would've cut it real close if I had to take the bus home. The shop was all the way across town, and even in Chloe's truck speeding toward school I watched the amber sky deepening into red, racing us.

"Whatever. That box looks heavy and if nothing's changed, your noodle arms wouldn't have carried that thing all the way back to Blackwell. Plus unlike you, I like answers in my silences."

"..What?"

Chloe eyed me with a new weight in her gaze, sharpened with absent accusation. And it could've been the setting sun lighting her icy glare aflame but it seared me. "You gunna tell me why my best friend disappeared without a shit to hang onto for five years?"

I couldn't look at her. The sky's glare made her eyes orange in a weird way. Ice on fire, piercing and merciless. The sun was blinding, throwing her shadow at me but even the negative space glared at me. Even when my gaze fell I felt her burning through my skull.

This would be a horrific time to roll the window down. Air came in from hers, but it was hot. Like the wind heated just by touching her and got heavy by the time it reached me.

What was there to say? My throat closed up, like it trapped the truth from coming out. Out of shame? Wouldn't surprise me. The truth was pretty shitty. How could I tell her just like that though? Right now? We haven't completely caught up yet, haven't even started.

How could I tell her I had no explanation? Not a valid one. Definitely not one that could justify the shit she probably went through when I dropped her on her face right when she needed me.

I was a shitty friend, with a shitty reason to disappear, who did it in the shittiest way, at the shittiest time.

Chloe's sigh was a tired wind that descended like fog; thick and heavy and plastered to the ground. And it filled the truck the same way. But it wasn't moist or cold. And I couldn't tell if the blaring light or Chloe had to do with it.

"There that shit is. That fucking silence. I might as well be screaming at my empty fucking mailbox. That never brought me answers either."

"Chloe, I'm sorry.."

"Sorry doesn't cut shit, Max. Not five years of it. Why'd you leave man?"

"I didn't command my parents to take me to Seattle!"

The truck skidded to a stop and it shrieked like I never heard. My head jerked and I had to catch myself on her dashboard.

"Bullshit Max, you know damn well that's got shit to do with anything. Your parents took you to Seattle but you chose to leave me behind. Your arm doesn't shrivel up in hives by sending a letter, trust me." my whole chest caved in and my stomach churned. And the light was hot and my eyes burned.

She knew that from personal experience. I didn't know when Chloe stopped writing, after the first few letters I didn't even open them anymore. And anything coming in the mail became the plague. I couldn't imagine why she even started after catching wind that I changed my number.

Freaking asshole, Max.

"You disappeared on me dude." Chloe accused, voice turning a cold color but I didn't dare look up. What would I see anyway but a blazing sun? "Growing up I thought I would be the asshole."

"You're not, I'm the asshole. A huge huge asshole."

"No you're worse than that." I didn't know why it cut me so deep. If it was saturated in rage it might have gone down easier. Would've felt like she was still passionate about it, like it was still hot and alive like her anger. But these words were cold. Like the burn of hot molten lava cooled off years ago and this emotion became of it. Formed and settled for a long time, solidified like stone, a permanent structure. She was disappointed in me and it wouldn't budge.

I couldn't look at her. The shame made my head too heavy and I was too scared of what I might see. It wouldn't be flames, and I think cold and dormant resolution would've been worse to watch than anger. At least her fury was alive, it writhed and breathed. But this felt fossilized.

"You can leave my shit on the floor. It's just gunna end up there by the time I get to where I'm going."

"Chloe-"

"I'm not trying to get another ticket, Max. Don't need another reason to avoid the cops."

I hadn't realized we made it back until I spotted students passing by and laughing. Colored orange from the sun and hair shining like copper. Chloe stopped in the bus zone, and I heard it gusting up behind us. I wanted to tell her something or say something at least. But I mostly wanted to ask her something; will I see you again?

But what a bold question to ask, and full of nerve. I didn't have the right to ask it. I couldn't gather my thoughts quick enough to do it anyway because the bus towered behind us, roaring. And an angry horn blared out and shattered what was left of my flimsy concentration. I scrambled out of Chloe's truck with the wobbly grace of a baby deer. My 50 bundle gashed against my thigh but the pain that exploded went right past me and I barely spun around when her wheels shrieked against the pavement and she vanished in a gust of smog and fuel.

xx