Disclaimer: Anything familiar to you, I don't own. This is a work of fanfiction for personal amusement, fulfillment and maybe a bit of self-therapy. I make nothing from any of it. Cheers.
Note: Greetings. There's a lot of information I want to give you all here, but I'll do my best to make things quick. I'll get the quicker things out of the way first.
1. If you have already read ch. 8 you probably noticed some severe logical inconsistencies especially during the "break" scene between Steph and Chloe. I have no idea what happened to me there, but I have gone back and fixed what I could find.
2. Ep 4 of Before the Storm has been out for a little while, now. So after this chapter I advise you all to play the episode or watch an LP. I'll consider it fair game from Chapter Ten, onward.
3. For anyone familiar with my last work, we're rapidly approaching the length of that story, as far as sheer word count and chapter count. I thought it would be fair to warn you all that this is not the end of this story, not even close.
4. Now on to one of the longer issues: I wanted to say something about characterization. For the most part, Chloe is reminiscent of herself in Before the Storm. However, conversations with Max and with her mother have sort of accelerated certain processes, meaning that things won't be playing out quite the same between her and Rachel, between her and her mother or her and Max. I intend to try to follow a natural characterization progression with all of that in mind. Max's characterization is pretty wild. Some of you who have read me before will probably be guessing at why. "Sleuths" among you will have a pretty basic idea even if you haven't. I also recognize that my characterizations for Frank and David might be a tad controversial, but for the most part I feel that I've kept true to their core characters. They both become very relevant again in future chapters.
5. Last but not least, I recognize as this story progresses that I might isolate readers. I've made an attempt/will continue to keep to things within the boundaries of established canon, discounting OBVIOUS factors (time travel) which might change plot lines. However, I happen to hold to beliefs about just how atypical some residents of Arcadia Bay other than Max are. For one of them, the discussion has been beaten to death and you can see peoples' thoughts on both sides of the issue. For the other person, I know that my interpretation of the canon will probably raise some eyebrows so if it becomes necessary for you to call it entirely AU to suspend disbelief, go for it. Just know that this comes from reasoned out thoughts, not just me just pulling nonsense out of my ass and it should be congruent with anything else I've written. If you can't already guess what I'm trying to say, then just read on.
Finally, thanks for reading. I promise that on my end, more care will be given to avoid somehow missing things like that problem scene in chapter eight. I am still very confused about what happened. Also, hopefully any future notes from me will be shorter.
Chapter Nine: Hypokrites
The first thing Rachel was aware of was a soft mattress beneath her and the second was the blaring alarm clock to her right. Instinctively, she turned over, bringing the edges of her pillow up to cover her ears. A second or two passed and still the alarm sounded. Opening her eyes, Rachel was prepared to be a little grumpy at Chloe sleeping through her own alarm clock. Instead, for a moment, she felt very disoriented, as if the room she was in spun around her. Rachel exhaled as she remembered: I live here now. I wasn't at Chloe's last night, I was here.
The dorm room was spartan, still, save for the thick comforter brought from home which she was groggily pushing down to her feet, a small dresser and a very cheap looking desk which at this point held her laptop and bag. She intended, like Max, to eventually have a small mini-fridge in her room but moving in had been a quick and harried last minute affair in which she did her best not to be impolite to her mother, despite the fact that she had dared to bring her father to campus with her. Rachel banished the thought quickly. Starting the day pissed off was only going to get in the way of her morning plans.
Right, she told herself, peering into a mirror on the back of her room's door. Your plan of action. Operation: Thespians. Rachel tried a sluggish grin but found that it did little to smother how exhausted she felt. Fumbling with her phone, Rachel opened her inbox. It contained a few pissy messages from her father and a couple from her mother, nothing big and nothing she was rushing to respond to. And nothing from Chloe, she thought, feeling a bit disappointed. It was silly, because within an hour and a half Chloe was going to be on campus, but part of her really felt like the perfect start to the day would be to hear from the girl. Probably sleeping in.
Me
Get your bony ass up, if you're still asleep. I'll be there in fifteen minutes.
For a moment Rachel stood in front of her closet, gazing in at the hanging shirts. There was an image she was used to showing at school, as part of the general 'proper Blackwell student' face that she put on. Perhaps it was Chloe's attitude rubbing off on her but as she looked into her closet, eyes traveling from more plain and unassuming shirts and pants to her more casual, comfortable clothing, Rachel realized for the first time that she could not be assed to dress a certain way to impress anyone. Laying out a rather ratty band tee and some fairly lived in jeans, Rachel caught a glance of herself again in the mirror. The smile on her face no longer looked so forced.
Her phone didn't go off and she left it behind as she carried a towel, cloth and shampoo with her toward the showers. This part, I might actually have a problem with. Instead of allowing herself to feel self-conscious about showering in a room that (curtain or no curtain) had several other people in it, she focused on her unfolding plan. So, I mean, I think I've already gotten over the first hurdle. I got Chloe to take an improv class, for Christ's sake. She's going to be a brat about the play, but I think I can wear her down in the end. I just have to convince one other person. That, Rachel was forced to admit as she entered the girl's showers, was going to be difficult. A pair of feet beneath the edge of one curtain signified that someone was already up and showering.
Someone else was standing in front of one of the mirrors hanging over the sink. Victoria Chase might have put on a face of her own when dealing with Rachel most of the year before but it seemed those days were over. Something's a little different, Rachel thought as she observed the glare being shot in her direction. Maybe it's the hair, maybe the general air of "fuck you, bitch" but Victoria looks different.
"See something you like?" Victoria said, her lip curling just slightly into a sneer. Instead of responding, Rachel crossed the room into one of the showers and drew the curtain shut. "Cat got your tongue?" Rachel ignored her. Compared to dealing with her father or with her awkwardness around someone who was fast becoming an actual friend, Victoria Chase remained what she had always been in Rachel's book: small potatoes. She laughed audibly at that and heard a grumble from the sinks. I think now that I'm not sleeping on a cement floor or in the same house as the asshole who tried to have my bio-mom killed, I might actually be in a good mood.
Small Potatoes was, thankfully, not waiting for her when she left the showers and nowhere to be seen on her way back to room 225 which was, technically, in an adjacent hall from the rest of them. I really don't know what mom had to do to get them to give me one of the spare rooms, but I don't think I can really ask right now. She knew from having seen the inside of Max's room a couple days before that there was a slight size difference between their rooms. That's probably why they used this one as storage. Once safely back in her room with the door shut and locked behind her, Rachel slid her chosen outfit on and while dealing with her still-drying hair checked her messages.
Max
I'm up. I'll be ready. My mom called to make sure I woke up in time for my 'big first day.'
Rachel took the time to stow her notebook, a folder containing her character sheet and class schedule as well as locker number and combination away in her bag and followed them after a moment with her laptop. It only took a look around the room to spot the last thing stacked on top of the desk and get an idea. Bingo! Her copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream disappeared into the bag at last. Okay, a bargaining chip. If she tries to say she doesn't want to go into the audition blind, shove this into her hands and smile at her until she realizes she lost the argument. It works on Chloe.
Down the hall, Rachel caught a glimpse of Dana and Juliet making for the stairs, talking rather animatedly. If they were up that early, that meant they were probably on their way to the cafeteria for breakfast. I hope Max isn't hungry. I don't think I could eat . Her stomach churned, slightly, as if acknowledging her nerves and their effect on it was enough to worsen the feeling. Rachel knocked on the door to room 222. "Housekeeping. Complimentary room cleaning!" The sound of something creaking from beyond the door announced Max had probably been laying in bed. When she opened it, Rachel looked once toward the bed. It was pristinely made, in a way that Rachel couldn't remember ever doing without being told to. The only thing out of place was the laptop sitting at the far edge, screen filled to the brim with text against a white background.
"Oh!" Even though she quickly drew her eyes to Max, the girl seemed to notice her gaze and turned back to cross to the bed and close her laptop. "Sorry, I forgot what I was doing for a second." Rachel shook her head and inhaled, slowly. It's going to get easier talking to her, she told herself. I mean, look how much better it got after the nerding and the drinking at Steph's? This drew up a smile. The memory of a drunk Max was something she would keep in mind for as long as the slowly growing friendship existed. She got super touchy-feely with everyone, and so goofy. Now, though, Max seemed to be back to herself. She put her laptop away with jittery motions, nervous energy.
"It's no biggie, I'm not in a rush. Were you wanting to go down to breakfast?"
"If I eat something right now, I'm going to be sick," Max told her. "It's always like this when I'm really nervous." Relieved, Rachel stood aside as the girl approached her, absentmindedly adjusting the strap on the old brown messenger bag across her shoulders. "You all ready?"
"Yeah, let's do it." Like this, she reminds me more of the girl who just showed up one day last year and out of nowhere agreed to help her best friend find some absolute stranger's mother. The unfortunate implications of that aside, Rachel couldn't help but feel grateful. Note to self: write Sera tonight. After two or three steps down the hall, Max stopped. Rachel was a step ahead but it was easy to hear the lack of footsteps and turn back with a querying eyebrow. Okay, now, part one is done. You've just gotta get her to the display case, stick a pen in her hand and, as Chloe would say, "sling bull."
"You've got this smile on your face," Max told her, blue eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Are you up to something?" Then, swallowing both her nerves and the accusatory tone, she continued, "And am I involved?" Privately, Rachel was a little amused at the idea of Max being able to read her so quickly when sometimes Chloe had difficulty. On the outside though….
"What? Me?" The offended tone of her voice was exaggerated even in her own ears. "I'm shocked and appalled that that is your opinion of me. I just want to show my new friend around campus." Instead of taking the bait, Max continued to stare at her in disbelief, forcing Rachel to eventually reach out, take Max by the hand and pull her insistently toward the stairs.
"Alright, alright," Max told her, pulling her hand back insistently. It would have been a worrying reaction if not for the amused tone creeping into the girl's voice. Maybe she doesn't like being touched. "Lead the way, but if I end up getting pied in the face or something, it's on you." What does she think this is, a clown school? Her good mood strangely refreshed, Rachel did as she was told and took the lead. The morning air was slightly more crisp than expected and the ragged, torn knees of her jeans didn't exactly help on that front. Suddenly Max's signature hooded sweatshirt made sense. Remembering something Chloe had whispered in her ear a couple nights before, Rachel turned and leaned slightly. It was easy to miss unless you were looking for it but she spotted a small, red stain at the end of Max's left sleeve. Courtesy of Damon Merrick.
A few students were spread out on the lawns in front of the dormitories and still more were walking toward the school. Rachel lead Max past the lot of them, waving when she was called to but not quite breaking her stride. Smile, Rachel. You're a happy, healthy, normal teenager and not at all up to something right now. She snorted to herself, something which did not go unnoticed by Max. Rachel noticed that unlike the day they met, Max had not bothered with any kind of makeup. Maybe that was just a face she was putting on for comfort or maybe to look more mature in front of Wells later that day? No one she really hung out with bothered with the stuff and Rachel could understand why. Even the small bit she usually applied in the mornings was a complete hassle. There's just something about smokey eyes, though.
"Ahah," Rachel finally called, softly. Most students already on campus were inside eating or lounging about by the dorms so when she and Max turned the corner they were actually alone.
"Ahah?" Max asked her, still clearly suspicious. "Ahah what?"
"Some peace and quiet," she responded, simply. "Not gonna have a lot of that for a while."
"Uhuh," Max replied, slowly, disbelievingly. Paranoid, Rachel thought her way. Then again, 'just because you're paranoid don't mean they're not after you.' Casually, instead of leading them toward the doors or the low cement walls near the road, Rachel pulled out her phone and walked over to the display case a few feet from the fountain. She knew the sheet would be behind the sliding glass doors but if she paid attention to it right off the bat Max would have time to prepare an excuse. Best to lead her in slowly.
"Did you get any sleep?" Rachel asked, leaning casually against the case. She paused halfway through pulling up her messages.
"Yeah, just, weird ass dreams." Rachel nodded. "You?"
"No dreams, just glad to wake up somewhere where I don't feel like I have to sneak off first thing in the morning." Max's look was sympathetic but at least not pitying. "Not that Steph's place was bad. That was actually awesome. I really enjoyed that night." This time, the look on the photographer's face was a bit mischevious. I can never read her right. Is she shy, is she pushy, what is she?
"Yeah? Which part? The part where we rolled bashed skeletons or the part where Chloe couldn't keep more than a foot away from you all night." Instead of reading negatively into the comment, Rachel shrugged.
"I guess that was pretty good," she admitted. "But I liked watching Mikey get all impressed when she was working on her tattoo idea. He gets so jealous of Chloe and Steph when they start drawing." As she slid her phone away, Max agreed.
"Yeah, but I kinda do too. Those character sketches Steph started over dinner? They were awesome." Oh, we know, Rachel thought, you waxed on about it for like five minutes.
"So," Rachel said.
"So," Max echoed, suddenly sounding self-conscious. At least the two of them shared that feeling when left alone with each other, but Rachel hoped it faded fast. She turned and slid the glass doors on the box she was leaning against open and pulled a pen from her pocket. She found the sign up sheet bearing 'Fall Production: A Midsummer Night's Dream' at the top. The date for auditions put them only a week away. Somehow, Dana's name was at the top of the list already. Rachel penned hers in as Max drew closer, curious. Then, beneath hers and without a moment's hesitation, she wrote in Chloe's. Stepping aside, she let Max see the sheet and as soon as her face reflected recognition, offered the girl her pen.
"Oh, oh I don't know," Max replied quickly. "I don't think I could."
"Max," Rachel said, dropping all pretense. "I think we both know you could act if you just got used to being around a bunch of people. I've seen you act. I've seen you roleplay. Chloe told me everything about how you handled Frank and Damon. I think you're a really good actor. It's just about being in front of people."
Max looked pale and Rachel wasn't sure if it was the sudden frankness of the conversation, the reminder of her antics in May or the idea of acting in front of a crowd but it did lend the image of someone who wasn't feeling entirely well. Maybe she wasn't kidding about her stomach, either. For just a moment, Max pressed a hand against her head and Rachel couldn't help but find it to be an exaggerated gesture of thought. Then, however, the girl squeezed her eyes tight, as if in pain. She reached out in reaction.
"You alright?" Rachel asked, as Max's eyes opened again.
"Yeah." Max told her. "Just a little headache. It'll pass." The photographer extended her right hand, as if to borrow Rachel's pen and despite some concern, Rachel passed it to her. What was that about? In fairly scrawling cursive, Max leaned down and signed her name beneath Chloe's. When she turned back with Rachel's pen in her outstretched hand, Rachel saw the thin trail of blood passing from her nose down to her chin before even she noticed it, though her surprise must have been an alert. "Oh, shit." As soon as she had her pen back in her hands, Rachel dug into her bag where she easily produced a small travel-sized kleenex package. "Oh, thank you." Max sounded and acted as if the kleenex was the end of the matter.
Uh, hello, she thought, a little perturbed. What is she having a stroke? Rachel didn't voice the concern, as it seemed childish to be worried about something Max was not. Besides, she had a victory to celebrate. They didn't speak much as Rachel lead them closer to the road to settle on a small brick and cement wall. For a moment, neither spoke as Max sat on the ground in front of the wall, leaning her head back.
"I'm kind of nervous about going into auditions blind," Max admitted, the subject firmly back on acting.
"Ahah," Rachel said again. "And this time, I mean ahah, as in I've got you." After retrieving the book from her bag, she dangled her copy of the play in front of Max, who took it with her left hand and held it at an angle to let her see the cover. "And before you say anything, I just finished rereading it last night, so it's yours until you get your script."
"Isn't that assuming I get a part?" Max asked, sounding curious.
"Oh, don't worry. You're gonna get a role." This time, when she fished her phone out of her pocket it was not in an attempt to look relaxed when she was plotting. "You've got a week to read it and decide what part to try out for." Max didn't respond and Rachel took that to mean that she either needed some actual peace and quiet or that she wasn't sure what to say. Either way, it gave Rachel a second to text Chloe, who had not as of yet sent her a message. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Max opened the book with some difficulty, one handed.
Me
Alright sleepyhead, wake up. Today's the big day. Also, you me and Max just all signed up for the fall play, so we have /got/ to talk about that.
Chloe
We did what?
Me
You heard me. Or read me. Whatever. Good morning.
Chloe
Good morning, now again, what? Did you two plan this behind my back? I won't stand for this treachery, woman!
Me
See, you're being a drama queen already. ^_^
Chloe
Seeya soon.
Wait, NO EMOJI!
The other semi-active conversations on her phone did not appeal to her nearly as much. The only unanswered text sent by someone not related to her was from Steph, and she was going to be able to see the girl in about three or four hours max in class, if not before. Only half visible as a preview, she stared at the most recent message from her father about a 'sad lack of respect.' Maybe some part of her wanted to respond to that one, too, but she didn't have the words to tell him how little his opinion of her mattered to her right then. Not without getting in trouble with her mother, at least.
When she looked up from her phone, Max was actually sitting on the wall not two or three feet from her, looking through the book unabashedly. Over the next few minutes, she watched people come from the parking lot or the dormitories. Once in a while a group would stop near the fountain and talk or someone would sign up for auditions. Nathan, Juliet and Hayden had already added their names to the list by the time Max closed the book and slid it into her bag.
"What do you think so far?"
"I think Egeus and Demitrius can kiss my ass, so far." Rachel grinned.
"Those characters you love to hate." Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel turned to see Steph leaning forward at the display case, pen in hand. Oh, so she's going for an acting spot this year? Awesome! Oh, I bet she gets Titania. That's right up her alley. Maybe Hermia, though. Steph waved when she realized she was being watched and gestured to a table in the corner of the lawn, which Rachel remembered was usually her hang out.
"We'll catch up," Rachel said. "Waiting for Chloe to get her lazy ass to school."
"Alright, sounds good!" She manages to sound so aloof without looking like a dick.
"I think the cast is going to end up a little girl-heavy." Rachel told Max. "It's not a big deal, we managed to deal with it during the Tempest." Max looked thoughtful for a second.
"Oh, I know," she said. "We'll make Theseus into Thesea and give that to Chloe. Make her play the authority figure." Rachel grinned.
"I like the way you think," she said, genuinely amused. "I think that might make her head explode though."
"Well, I'll bring the camera," Max replied, making a vague gesture toward her bag. "It'll make the best damn play poster in school play history."
"I don't think Wells would let that get hung up, honestly." Still, all awkwardness seemed to have faded into the background. So too had Max's headache and nosebleed. Rachel tried to file it away for later. Max jerked her head around suddenly and pointed. A tan truck was slowing down as it passed in front of them. Its driver, blue haired and wearing a grey beanie took a second to stick her tongue out at them and flip them the bird. Rachel just fixed an impassive face on Chloe, who continued past them toward the parking lot. "And she has the audacity to call us nerds."
"Speak for yourself," Max told her. "I'll take being a nerd any day. What's your first class?"
"I got lucky: improv with Mr. Keaton and Chloe first thing in the morning. I think you'll like him. He's funny. What about you?"
"English," she said, grimacing slightly. "I don't hate it, but I'm excited to get to second period. The Photo Essay." Rachel wanted to chuckle, but at least Max embraced the title of nerd. "The other photography class is really cool, though," the brunette seemed to grow genuinely excited as she talked about it. "It's all about taking pictures of people. "
"Well, if you need any models, find me and Chloe."
"It has to be candid, I think."
"When has that ever stopped you?" For a moment, Max furrowed her brow and looked down.
"Sorry about that." Even though she knew she couldn't be seen, Rachel rolled her eyes at the girl.
"I wasn't being sarcastic that was an actual compliment." Max looked up as Rachel opened the front flap on her bag. The object she was looking for was the only thing she kept in that part of the bag, so it was easy to fish out the polaroid in its small plastic sleeve. "If I have somewhere safe to carry it, this basically goes with me wherever I go." Max took the offered photo, and slowly a smile returned to her face, though her cheeks took on a bit of color. Beside her, Rachel looked down at it.
Framed rather well, Rachel was looking up at Chloe from beside her in the middle of the truck's cab, as of yet unaware that Max was taking a photo. She could see the worry etched into Chloe's features and a look on her own face that originally made her unsettled. It was the sappiest she could remember ever seeing herself, the look of someone who was realizing she was about to go downhill, about to fall into Chloe's orbit in a big way. And that's exactly what happened, she thought as Max looked up and offered the photo back.
"I'm not gonna go all goopy or anything, but that's really sweet," Max told her. "And I kind of needed that boost." The look on her face was definitely that of someone on the verge of 'going all goopy.' Shaking her head, Max changed the subject rather dramatically. "So, um, how've you been since you and Chloe- you know."
"What?" Rachel asked, feeling her cheeks warm. Okay, is this about to get weird?
"No, not that. I don't wanna know about that," Max told her, backpedaling quickly. "I mean, when you guys left the 'evidence' in front of the police station." Rachel's stomach fell. She would vastly have preferred if Max were turning her (according to Chloe) great propensity for nosing into peoples' business toward her (nonexistent) sex life. This door, however, was the one opened and she walked through it.
"It's been kind of scary, actually." Rachel said. "I know he can't prove it but I think he knows it was us." A thought occurred to her for the first time in a few weeks. "You know, it's weird how right you were about him leaving shit sitting around." Max grimaced.
"I used to read a lot of true crime stories," she said, and Rachel had no reason not to accept that. "So he really did the old trick of hiding dirty money behind books?" Rachel nodded.
"Yeah. We did like you said and took pictures of everything in its place, shoved it all in a box and left it and the photos right in front of the door. The gloves worked wonders, too. The only prints they lifted from the box were my dad's." Rachel wondered at her own voice: she sounded vindicated, almost pleased. I feel vindicated. "I know this is weird," she continued, voice still low to match Max's, "but thanks for helping me get my father charged. Once they found that phone, it was all over."
"What's over?" Chloe asked from her left. Rachel jumped briefly in surprise but when she turned she did not see the grin she expected on Chloe's face. "What?" She was dressed as casually as ever, though with a full shirt instead of her signature tank-top that was, at least for Blackwell dress codes, rather showing. Also, I think she stole that shirt from me.
"What's eating you?" Rachel asked.
"Step-douche ambushed me in the parking lot, told me to focus on school and not on hanging out with my 'punk ass friends.'" Chloe laughed bitterly. "Speaking of, how are you two doing?" Rachel shoved her lightly.
"Remember that time when David was going to stop being a jerk and treat you with basic dignity?" Max asked her.
"Yeah, that was a really awesome six hours," Chloe replied."Oh no." Chloe's eyes shifted away from them to a tall, suited man standing just at the bottom of the steps to the school. Principal Wells was gazing directly at the three, gesturing with his right hand. Chloe lead the way after Rachel nudged her and fell in line behind her. "I can't just come back to school or anything. I have to be hassled by every asshole this school has to offer." Rachel shared a worried look with Max and then reached out to rest a hand against Chloe's back, between her shoulder blades. That always seemed to make Chloe focus on her, draw her away from whatever problem was immediately on her mind. Chloe grew quiet. Max didn't speak. Eventually, though, pulling the photographer forward with her, Rachel stepped up to stand beside Chloe as they pulled to a stop in front of Wells.
"Ah, Ms. Price, welcome back." Chloe's face remained blank and Rachel jabbed her lightly.
"Stop being so nervous," she told Chloe, speaking clearly to get her point across.
"Yeah, sorry," Chloe said, "Thanks, Principal Wells." He has to hear the sarcasm in her voice. We're going to have to work on that during practice. "It's- It's good to be back."
"Well, I saw your transcript from the school you attended during your time away from us and I have to say, if you can keep that up here, you stand a good chance of being a great asset to Blackwell Academy." Chloe did not respond but she did nod, as if she understood. "Do you think you'll be able to do that?"
"Of course she will," Rachel said, causing Chloe to glance sideways toward her. "We'll be tutoring her on anything she needs help with. Even though she could tutor me in science." Wells raised an eyebrow.
"We?" He swept his eyes across the three of them and then as if he had not seen her, turned to Max. "Ah, Ms. Caulfield. I was told your application essay for financial assistance was one of the most eloquent and moving the board has ever received." Max bowed her head in what Rachel hoped was a false modesty and not just discomfort from the direct attention of someone she was not friendly with. If it was the second, the play was going to be a bigger struggle than Rachel thought. "It's nice to see you've made fast friends with such… recognizable examples of Blackwell students." That's a kind way to say I'm a suck up and Chloe's a troublemaker. Rachel wondered if Wells was biting back some kind of comment about the way Rachel and Chloe were dressed.
"Oh," Max said, as she looked up. "Well, I met Rachel in May and I've known Chloe since I was like, five." Wells' face flashed slightly with worry, but he did not speak his concern. He didn't need to. Judging by Chloe's face she knew what he was thinking as well as Rachel did. "I'm pretty lucky to get to hang out with them. They've helped me feel comfortable about coming to Blackwell."
"Yes, well, I'm quite glad to hear that. This is a place for excellence, safety and comfort is necessary for students to reach their full potential- and then exceed it." He turned his gaze back on Chloe. "To that end, I would like to make you an offer at the recommendation of Rose Amber and in light of our communication and your performance during your time away from Blackwell. A clean slate, Ms. Price." Chloe's face was openly stunned. What did mom do? "A clean slate, on both sides. I will give you the benefit of the doubt in any future issues and you will return the favor by being a model student, reaching as high as you can, achieving and staying out of trouble. "
"Oh, absolutely," Rachel said, when Chloe didn't immediately jump. "In fact, she's going to join Max and me in trying out for the fall production."
"I am?" Chloe asked, as if she had forgotten their earlier conversation. "I mean, I mean I am," she said, more confidently.
"Well, then given prior results," Wells said, "I look forward to seeing that production. I am sure you will all do Shakespeare proud, once again. Now if you'll excuse me, I must attend to other matters." Without waiting for them to say anything else, he turned and walked toward the doors of the school.
"I forgot about that," Chloe said. "I don't remember signing my name on any lists, you traitors."
"Alright drama queen," Rachel said. "Let's go see Steph and Mikey before the bell rings."
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