Chapter Five
The front door swings open so fast it sends a gust of wind all over Chloe's frame, her disheveled blue hair fluttering and dancing around her pale cheeks and forehead. Her thin brows are raised and pink lips curled into a bright smile. A black cord around her neck allows three small caliber bullets to dangle between her modest breasts, resting atop the white punk rock tank top she's wearing. The straps of her black bra are visible, as is the top of the bra itself since her tank top hangs too low. Unused suspenders drape along the outsides of her thighs, and her faded jeans are a bit shredded here and there with a few quilt patches repairing some of the damage on the right leg. And a full sleeve tattoo winds down her right arm from shoulder to wrist, ending at four elastic bracelets, three black and one white.
She's not the innocent pink sweater wearing strawberry blonde that Max remembers, and taking in the vision of the new punk-rock Chloe stuns her. She stares with her mouth agape as she feels like a sniper shot a tranquilizer dart into her chest, the warm numbing effect slowly washing over every inch of her body to leave her paralyzed.
Oh my God, she's so different. And I'm so… the same. Is this really going to work out? She looks way too cool to hang out with a photography nerd like me. If she were a random stranger in Seattle I would never be brave enough to approach her and ask to be friends. But, she's still Chloe inside, right?
Chloe, on the other hand, has no reservations about the moment at all. "Max!" She pounces through the doorway and crashes into Max, hugging her so violently she almost knocks the poor girl over. "It's really you! You came back to me." She squeezes Max with the passion of four years lost.
"Hhhhk!" Max feels the air crushed out of her lungs as her hands wrap around Chloe's lower back, patting at her spine as if tapping out. "I'm dying." She barely croaks out.
Chloe laughs and steps back, leaving her hands on Max's shoulders. "Yeah right, dying of joy! I know you're stoked to see me. What do you think of my new digs?" She steps back and takes a wide stance, putting her hands on her hips and holding her chin up, proud of her punk style.
Max lets her eyes drift all over Chloe one more time, getting stuck on that sleeve tattoo. She steps forward and reaches out to collect Chloe's right wrist and hold her arm up, inspecting the ink. A tattered pink ribbon loosely swirls from wrist to shoulder around a thorny bramble with many little green leaves and some pretty pink flowers. Half a dozen blue butterflies hover around the plant while a yellowed skull acts as the center piece, tucked into the bramble halfway between Chloe's elbow and shoulder.
"You look so awesome now, Chloe." Max admits as she releases the arm to smile at her best childhood friend. "I hardly recognized you at first, but I like the changes. You look so unique now, and really photogenic. I hope you won't mind if I take a bunch of pictures of you during the week."
Chloe grins and strikes a silly pose with a hand behind her head and the other twisted behind her and palming her lower back. "Oh, you're gonna use the photography line on me? Trying to get in my pants already?" She snickers and steps forward to grip Max's suitcase, grunting and making a face as she realizes it's heavier than it looked. "Jesus, Max, were you serious about finding pirate booty in Seattle? It feels like you packed a few gold bars in here."
Max blushes deeply as she folds her hands in front of her lap, smiling down at the entry mat as she follows Chloe inside. "I wasn't flirting, jeez. I'm a big photography buff! And I'm on vacation. Besides, I know you're with Rachel, and I don't mess with other people's relationships."
Chloe kicks the door shut behind them and makes her way to the foot of the stairs on the right side of the entry hall. "Relax hippie, I was just fucking with you. And once you see Rachel you're gonna forget all about taking pictures of me. She's hella beautiful, and she's gonna be a model one day. Anyway, mom wanted to see you when you got here, so head into the kitchen while I lug your five hundred pound bag up a flight of stairs. I totally won't go through all your shit when you're not looking, either."
Max snorts and shakes her head with a smile as she rests a hand on the wall for balance while stepping on her heels to take her shoes off. "There aren't any gold bars in there, but feel free to check. Just don't touch the white and green boxes, that's my Polaroid film and it's delicate and expensive."
She watches Chloe drag the bag up the first few stairs, then walks straight ahead down the hallway. Max admires some of the family pictures on the walls on the way, her nostalgia building as she recognizes some of them, and remembers the layout of this home. The hallway opens up to the living room straight ahead and to the right, the furniture placing relatively the same. To the left she sees the little wooden dining table with four chairs around it, the two facing her being occupied by Joyce and a man she doesn't recognize.
"Welcome back, Max." Joyce says with a kind smile, looking remarkably the same as she did four years ago. "I hope your trip was alright. Did you have a proper dinner?"
Max laughs, remembering how concerned Joyce always was about feeding the kids enough. "It was an exhausting day, but I'm glad to finally be here. I had enough to eat. Besides, I want to save room for breakfast tomorrow morning." She gives Joyce a knowing smile.
"Oh, haha, you lookin' forward to a big stack of my pancakes? Is that why you wanted to sleep over here before your road trip? Well, I'm glad you missed my cookin'." She raises her left hand to gesture toward the man sitting to her left. "Max, this here is David Madsen, my second husband."
Max gives the man a polite smile as she steps around the table to offer her hand, which David accepts and shakes firmly. "Nice to meet you, sir."
He gives her a skeptical look over, but forces a smile to be polite. "Likewise. I hope you're not intending to bring any trouble into Chloe's life. She only has one quarter of high school left and she needs to stay focused to the end."
Max raises her brows and nods as she thinks back on her letter from future Max. "Yeah, I can assure you that I'm here with the best of intentions to have a positive impact on Chloe's life. And others around here as well."
Then her expression suddenly changes as she realizes that the letter, and the note she wrote on the plane to leave for David, are both tucked into a white envelope in the suitcase she just gave Chloe permission to go through. Panic rattles her from head to toe as she imagines everything falling apart if Chloe finds those messages right now.
"Riiiight." David responds, seeing the panic after the statement of good intention and imagining they are linked. "Just make sure nobody drives while drunk or high. If Chloe or Rachel dies out there I'm holding you personally responsible."
"Tck, David." Joyce sends him an incredulous look, then offers Max a comforting smile and tone. "You know how to stay safe, Max. I know you're a responsible girl from my conversations with your mother. Just keep doing what you've always done. Now, it's gettin' late so go on up there and get all the chatter out of your system so you can fall asleep and be ready for tomorrow. Drivin' drowsy is just as dangerous as drivin' drunk."
"Yes, ma'am!" Max eagerly takes the invitation to excuse herself and twists in place to rush down the hall and up the stairs. She sucks in a fresh breath of air as she thumps into the door to Chloe's room and bursts in.
Chloe is lying in her bed on the far wall of the room, or at least a mattress atop a spring board that sits just under knee height. She props herself up on her elbows, her cell phone in the right hand and her face stretched out with fearful surprise.
"What the fuck was that all about? Is everything cool?"
Max scans the clutter filled room, seeing posters and stickers all over the walls, too many waist high book shelves for a room this size all covered in belongings, a computer desk, sound system, TV, and when her eyes go left toward the closet she finds what she's looking for. Her suitcase is standing upright, closed, the contents unseen. She lets out a sigh of relief and pushes the door closed behind her to lean against it as she thinks of what to say.
"Ummm… your stepdad is pretty intense."
"Ugh, step-douche gave you shit already?" Chloe rolls her eyes with a frown, pushing to sit up on her bed. "Just don't talk to him. He's a paranoid asshole that thinks he's still a soldier."
I sure hope he's more than that. Max thinks as she slowly steps forward. I apparently need him to single-handedly solve the crime of the century in Arcadia Bay.
"In other news, this room is practically an episode of hoarders. You have a ton of stuff in here. Do you really need or use all of this stuff?" She asks as she tries not to trip over a stack of magazines on the floor.
"Wow, now you're starting to sound just like Rachel." Chloe complains, lifting her phone to look back at its screen. "Yeah, you two are gonna get along like two nuts in a sack."
Max scrunches up her little nose as she realizes she's just been likened to a testicle. "Did you just… that's gross, Chloe!" She makes her way over to her suitcase while Chloe seems distracted by her phone.
"Fine, whatever, two peas in a pod then. You're so vanilla, Max. We're gonna have to loosen you up this week. Maybe even get you a tattoo. Do you have any tattoos?"
Max pulls her suitcase down to unzip it in a way that the top flap will block Chloe's view of what's inside. "I'm seventeen, and my parents wouldn't give me permission to get a tattoo. I don't even have any piercings other than my ears." She pulls out her little bag of bathroom supplies and a change of what to wear to bed, then tucks the envelope between those to hide it from view.
"Like I said, so vanilla." She smiles down at her phone and reaches over to put it on the little table beside her low bed. "Alright, I texted Rachel that you're here and everything is cool. She's an eager beaver about meeting you tomorrow. We'll eat breakfast here, then swing by her place to pick her up, and then hit the road!" She grins up at Max, excited for the road trip.
Max smiles down as she holds her bag, clothes and hidden envelope behind her back. "Sounds great. I look forward to meeting her, too. Is the bathroom situation still the same here? I need to go brush my teeth and stuff."
"Yeah, down the hall to the right, same as before. Don't bother looking for my sex toys in there, though. I keep those hidden in here where nobody will ever find them." She offers Max a playful smirk.
"Oh my God, Chloe, stop! You're such a perv!" Max can't help but grin as she whines, starting to realize how wild and fun Chloe's new personality is.
She lets herself out of the room and heads down the hall to look around the bathroom, finding a good spot to place her bag of supplies, and a low drawer that seems to contain an emergency towel that's never used to hide her envelope in. While brushing her teeth she snoops a bit, finding Chloe's blue hair dye, a disturbing row of pill containers she hopes aren't for Chloe, and the pirate towel she remembers from so long ago.
That brings back some memories. Chloe was so cute back then. She's beautiful now, with her unique punk-rock style, but I kind of miss the old Chloe. The blue hair and tattoo are awesome, but I wonder how much of the girl I grew up with is still in there. She catches her reflection in the mirror as she ponders. I wonder if she finds me attractive. Ugh, stay focused, Max. You're here to save their lives, not enter some weird lesbian threesome.
After brushing, flossing and rinsing she slips out of the grey sweater and jeans she traveled in and puts on some cozy little cotton shorts over her panties. She stares down at that drawer she hid her envelope in as she folds up her sweater and pants.
OK, here's the plan. When everyone else is asleep, sneak out of Chloe's room and seal the warning note in the envelope, then place it on the front mat as if someone dropped it through the mail slot. That way either Joyce or David will find it tomorrow morning and think a stranger put it there. Write 'David Madsen' on the front of the envelope so it will go to him. Yes, this is going to work.
Max pads down the hallway and back into Chloe's room to find the blue haired girl sitting at her desk working on her laptop. She's wearing her own night garb, a little pair of grey shorts and a black t-shirt that says ROCK with a baby chicken underneath it to symbolize 'rock chick'. Chloe twists in her seat to admire Max in her little black shorts and white t-shirt with a cute doe graphic on its front.
"Well, you're looking cute. Don't try to pull any moves on me over the night, I'm a taken girl!" She jokes as she twists back to shut down her laptop.
"Hah, yeah, even if you weren't I probably wouldn't be bold enough to try anything like that. So, you have nothing to worry about there." She makes her way over to the left side of the bed and crawls into it, groaning as her body yearns for relaxation after the day of travel she put it through.
"Don't worry, Maxster, I'm the hammer that's going to break you out of your shell. By the end of this week you're going to be a total badass!"
Chloe hops out of her desk chair and switches the overhead lights off, leaving just a little lamp on in the back right corner. Then she slides into bed and fluffs her pillow before resting the back of her head on it, staring up at the ceiling.
"Chloe?" Max speaks softly, feeling so tired already as she shifts to lie on her left side so she can watch her best childhood friend look her way, waiting for more words. "Could you tell me a little about Rachel before I meet her? I don't want to jump in blind."
Chloe smirks and looks back up at the ceiling. "Max the Tactician, probing for info so she can make a great first impression. Well, where do I start? She's from Long Beach, California, came up here to attend Blackwell. That's where we met, both of us being seniors this year. She's really popular, nice to everyone but rebellious against societal norms and all that, a real flame burning bright for everyone to admire. She's gorgeous, fun, got a perfect 4.0 GPA, wants to become a model, and of course, she has really good taste in girlfriends. Amirite?"
Chloe blinks a few times when she realizes Max is asleep. "Wow you're really wiped out. You're lucky you look so cute all zonked out, or I'd be mad at you for falling asleep while I'm telling you about my angel. Good night, Maximus. It's awesome to have you back."
Ryan was right about the day exhausting Max. Her tired mind sleeps soundly all through the night. The warning note still rests in the towel drawer when the following morning comes.