Disclaimer: Anything familiar to you, I do not own. This is entirely a work of fan fiction for personal amusement and fulfillment. I make nothing from this and own none of it.
Chapter Eleven: Strophê
"Ignoring your father is far too immature for you, Rachel." To say that Rachel Amber was upset was a bit of an understatement. She was upset when she missed out on lunch. She was upset when she saw her friends hurt. In that moment, laying on her bed in the dorm, Rachel was not upset. She was livid. It was the kind of anger where afterward, she felt warm and really needed some air.
"And living with him is far too stupid for you, mom." An affronted noise passed through the receiver. "Seriously. What happens if you annoy him too much? Maybe Damon Merrick's gone missing but there are plenty of other people out there James could pay off." The silence was pregnant with her mother's rage. "Honestly, I can't believe you're pretending to be surprised that I don't want to talk to him. I know it's you pretending, because you're smarter than he is, mom. You always have been." Across the room, Max was leaned over Rachel's desk, head laying atop her crossed arms. The earbuds in her ears seemed to be a successful insulator against the noise of Rachel's side of the argument. It would have been enough to earn a smile if she were in a better mood.
"You think too harshly of your dad, Rachel. I don't agree with what he did but-"
"I don't think I've got a dad. I can't change that he was my father, but he's definitely not my dad." That shut her up. For a second, Rachel thought that her mother would hang up on her .
"If this is how you're going to behave, we might need to rethink you going on any out of town trips in February." Her anger went from a dull roar to a raging flame. You're getting worked up, girl, Rachel told herself as she felt a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead.
"Well, good news is, by February he'll be rotting in jail where he belongs and even if you do that, he won't be able to hurt you or anyone else I give a shit about," Rachel told her. She felt a vindictive sort of pleasure when her mother did not respond. She hung up the phone without a proper goodbye. Still warm, still angry, she leaned back on the bed as Max stirred at the desk. She might have felt guilty about waking the girl up under normal circumstances. Instead, she stared up at the ceiling for a moment and then closed her eyes. Don't try to talk to me yet, not yet. It was too hot, too hot by far.
Laying in bed, her eyes shut, Rachel tried to focus on her breathing. Mercifully, Max was silent. Whether she went back to sleep at the table or not, Rachel did not know or care until she heard the sound of Max typing away and a moment or two later the sound of paper. It was not distracting, it was not disrupting. The heat was more of an annoyance to her trying to calm down than anything else. This was an oddity that Rachel had been forced to deal with for the last two years, feeling overly warm when she lost her temper. She had even once gone to a doctor to ask about it and been rewarded with a confused look and a patronizing tone.
She may not have fallen asleep on the bed, but did space out pretty effectively, enough so that Max finally had to interrupt her from her thoughts. By that time, she was completely calm. Max was folding up an old, worn looking sheet of notebook paper and sliding it not into her bag with her laptop and iPod, but into her pocket, where Rachel couldn't be sure she'd ever seen Max store anything before. She felt genuinely grateful when Max said nothing about the argument but she was still warmer than she was comfortable with. Rachel shrugged off the plaid overshirt.
"It's time," Max said, sleepily if unnecessarily. Rachel smirked at the girl. "What?"
"You have a good nap?"
"Mhmm," Max admitted, though she looked a little embarrassed. It did nothing to stop Rachel from the smile on her face. "Again, what?" Rachel only shook her head this time. Her mood had turned a full 180, now all she wanted was to physically cool down. Max, she noticed with some confusion, also looked warm. "Whatever," Max tried to play it off but she was red in the face. Okay, we both need some fresh air, then. "Chloe's probably going to get there any time now and start spamming us with texts if we don't get down there." Max had a point, there. Chloe had not yet learned the fine art of patience.
"Do me a favor Max?" Rachel asked as she shut the door to her room behind them. "Will you please send Chloe an entire page-long text full of emoji?"
"You madwoman," Max replied, sounding affronted. "You'll give her a conniption!" That was enough to make Rachel laugh. Rachel patted the phone in her pocket to be sure it was still there and looked back at Max, who was only a step or so behind her as she walked toward the stairs. The rest of the hall was empty. Rachel took a moment to examine the girl beside her. Back when they first met, she could not even imagine the girl trying out for the school play. Since then, though, Max had become a lot less reserved if still a bit on the anxious side. Today she looked a little uncomfortable. "I'm sorry you're having so much trouble," Max told her, reaching out to stop her before they descended the steps. Rachel shared a look with the girl for a moment, before Max withdrew her hand, looking pointedly away.
"I'm sorry you were in the room when that happened," Rachel said, then, trying to laugh the momentary awkwardness she could not yet name away, "I'm also sorry I woke you up." It's actually really sweet she gives a fuck. Together they descended in silence and Rachel figured that was because Max didn't want to admit how absolutely beat she was. Once in the cool air, Rachel closed her eyes tight and shivered as a breeze brushed against her. It might have still been fairly early in September but the afternoons were rather cool. Pairing that with the unusual warmth she felt, it was rather easy for her to feel a little overwhelmed as she stood on the steps of the dorm.
"Rachel, are you okay?" She opened her eyes. Max was looking at her with genuine concern, despite an apparent exhaustion. Perhaps it was the shiver, or the way Rachel had her arms wrapped around herself but something had Max worried. Rachel let her arms fall to her sides, feeling silly. She aimed a raised eyebrow and her 'cool and collected' face on Max. It was a successful gesture. Hopefully it says, 'that's my question.' Max went a little red in the face when she looked away, shrugging as if to dismiss the exchange. Oh yeah, Rachel thought, grinning as she continued toward the school. I've still got it.
She was glad to be amused instead of upset when she had nearly reached the front doors to the school. Chloe was waiting, leaning against a door with her phone in her hand. Rachel's phone vibrated in her pocket. She didn't bother to check it. Realizing they had yet to be noticed she reached out and stopped Max. For a moment, Rachel examined Chloe. She was dressed a lot nicer today than usual, like she was actually dressing up for auditions. It was sweet, if unnecessary. Rachel actually enjoyed Chloe's new grungy look: most of her clothing tended towards black, grey and white save for her jeans or that strange "Jane Doe" shirt she loved so much. It tended to make her eyes and hair stand out especially well in bright lighting. Then again, the best part is that it makes things so much cuter when she gets flustered.
Rachel was going to gesture to Max that she was done waiting, when the door to Chloe's left opened. She recognized the boy stepping out of it, Eliot. Up until recently he had been a fairly friendly person and he still was to Chloe. When around Rachel, though, he no longer spoke. He did not look at her, he did not engage in whatever conversation he was in and if they were in class together (like the history class she shared with Max) if she spoke in any way he would simply go silent. Rachel was not stupid nor as oblivious as Chloe was about the boy. She knew exactly what his problem was and suspected he was behind some problems she had already begun to experience since school started.
The two spoke briefly and then Eliot turned to walk back inside, Chloe went back to her phone. Predictably, the moment she looked away, his face changed. For just a second, he looked frustrated. Then he looked up and spotted her and Max standing near the fountain, obviously watching. The brunet disappeared into the school almost immediately. Rachel glanced sideways.
"What the hell was that?" Max asked her, though Rachel got the feeling it was not a genuine question, more of an expression of concern. "Jesus, he's getting worse and she doesn't see it."
"You've seen it?" Rachel asked, impressed and a little confused that Max had caught on so quickly. "Already?"
"He's not exactly subtle," Max told her. Now, she deepened her voice slightly. "'Hey Chloe, wanna hang out tomorrow? Hey Chloe, what about dinner? Hey Chloe, how's it goin'? Chloe, pay attention to me.'" Rachel smiled slightly. "I mean, Chloe's being daft about it, I'm not sure she even realizes he's crushing on her."
"And he doesn't get that she doesn't get it." Rachel said, quietly.
"And he's getting angry." Anger might be a bit of a hard word to describe it, it always seemed to Rachel to be more like frustration. Then again, she thought, remembering the messages sitting in her inbox from a hidden number, maybe she's right. "Rachel, I get bad vibes from that guy. I think he's dangerous."
"This coming from the only other person Chloe knows who talks to Nathan Prescott?" Rachel asked her, genuinely curious. "I mean, I know I'm down to kick his ass if he turns out to be the creep she thinks he is, but I heard you two are bonding over photography." Max looked at her for a second with something in her eyes that seemed out of place. She looked searching and serious, but whatever she was looking for she either found it or gave up the hunt, because her brow unfurrowed and she relaxed.
"I don't know," Max finally told her. Rachel waited for her to clarify. Chloe looked up from her phone, noticing the two of them for the first time. Rachel waved at the confused girl and waited for Max to go on. "I'm getting some scary vibes from him, too, but I guess I hope he's not as bad as he seems." Rachel nodded.
"Same here," she admitted. "Though I did see his photos once and they're-"
"They range anywhere from R-rated and kinky to fucking twisted," Max told her, as she started back toward Chloe, who was watching them in concern. "I don't judge the first kind but the rest freak me out, too." Rachel followed. There was plenty more she wanted to ask Max. That was a fairly typical response she had just about any time they spoke. She often got the idea that the photographer with her borderline nu-hippie style was a lot smarter than anyone gave her credit for. She knows things, Rachel thought. Reminds me of Samuel, sometimes. Wonder if they're both psychics. Rachel chuckled, though whether it was at that or Chloe asking how long they were 'standing there watching her' she wasn't sure.
"Just a minute or so," Max said. "Pretty sure Rachel wanted to perv on you a bit."
"Aww," Chloe said, though her face did take on a pink tinge. She mimicked her mother's accent. "Sweetpea, you don't need to hide for that," Rachel felt a little surprised herself when Chloe pocketed her phone and threw an arm around her shoulder. "So, what role are you two going for?" Chloe asked, dropping the accent but not letting go of Rachel. She leaned into Chloe.
"I'll probably try to be one of the fairy servants," Max said. "Something small." Rachel rolled her eyes. You're too good an actor for that, Rachel thought, but she did not speak.
"I think I'll go for Titania and leave Juliet and Dana the leading lady roles. What about you?" Chloe did not respond at first, pushing the door open and leading Rachel in. She was alright with this, walking into the school with Chloe's arm around her shoulders. It was a lot more blatant of an intimate move than expected but incredibly comfortable.
"Well," Chloe continued as Max followed them in. "I'm doing this for you two, so you better get roles." Rachel grinned.
"You didn't say who you were trying out for."
"That's because I haven't got a clue." Rachel sighed. Of course she didn't bother to do any actual reading. Not that it matters. Keaton almost fawns over her after last year. Rachel had to admit she enjoyed the improv class more than expected. Chloe was probably the reason for it. It wasn't just being around her, though, it was watching Chloe realize she could actually act, that she was actually good at it. I don't know why she's so surprised. She's been winging shit and acting ever since the first time I saw her. Rachel wondered why it felt so long ago that Chloe started attending Blackwell. "I really don't wanna be Hermia or Helena." Or maybe she did read.
"Mr. Keaton will have an idea, " Max said, "I'm sure." Rachel jumped and immediately felt guilty. For a moment, she had forgotten everyone and everything but Chloe. She glanced back at Max, who, smiling, clearly had an idea of what was happening. Like I said, she knows things. The three of them joined a small crowd of people outside of the theater classroom. Rachel was particularly surprised to see Eliot, of all people, mixing with the crowd. He only looked at Rachel and Chloe once before turning away and going quiet. Beside him, Nathan Prescott glared at them. Wearing her signature beanie and looking as if she wanted nothing more than to get the audition done with, Steph waved from a spot near the door.
"I think I'll try out for something it wouldn't be hard to genderswap," Chloe said. "Like, Puck. I bet they could get away with that." Rachel nodded in agreement. They had just enough time to sit down beside her when the door opened. Rachel's greeting was cut off by Mr. Keaton calling her name. The curse of alphabetical order. She got right back on her feet and glanced back. For a moment, Chloe seemed lost in her thoughts and rather displeased about something. Then she smiled up at Rachel and left her another mystery to deal with. Rachel turned toward the aging drama teacher. He smiled kindly, which reminded Rachel to fix her 'actress face' into place. She gave him a relaxed grin and greeted the man as the door shut behind her.
"Hello, then Rachel." She glanced around the room.. They weren't alone. Sitting at a table in the back was a woman Rachel recognized as a friend of Mr. Keaton's, who usually helped him with the play, taking a kind of 'assistant director' position. Mostly she just does the physical things he's kind of too weak to do. Her name, if Rachel remembered, was Jennifer. She was dressed up in a manner that reminded Rachel of her mother, frankly: nice clothes in earth tones and a haircut that honestly looked a little out of date. She was friendly, though.
"Nice to see you again," she greeted the woman.
"You too, now," as Mr. Keaton took a seat, Jennifer pushed a script toward her, one that someone had taken the time to bind. Rachel accepted the script, preferring that to the book in her bag. "What role are we going to hear you read for?"
Maybe half an hour later, Rachel was seated beside Steph, legs crossed and waiting. To Steph's left, Max slept bent half over the bag in her lap. The crowd around them was thinning down dramatically. After having given Chloe a death glare as they passed on his way out of the classroom, Nathan Prescott had absconded the scene, ignoring both Max's attempt to talk to him and Eliot, who followed him. Rachel turned toward Steph.
"It's been like, five minutes," Steph told her, as if reading her mind.
"It feels like fifty," Rachel replied. Steph's knowing, teasing grin normally amused her, now it just left her slightly more worried. She glanced past the girl toward Max, who had slumped sideways against the game master. Steph looked pretty alright with that, herself. Rachel fixed that same smile on Steph, who notably did not respond. The door to the room opened and Brook pushed off from her position against the wall, eagerly. Rachel felt a bit eager, herself.
Chloe did not come out of the classroom looking absolutely exhausted (or sporting evidence of a new nosebleed) as Max had. She did, though, take one look at Rachel's face and then look away. Rachel didn't say anything as Chloe approached and Chloe didn't sit down, instead leaning against the wall beside her. Steph raised a curious eyebrow.
"Okay," Chloe said, her voice dropping slightly. She had not as yet made eye contact.
"Okay?" Rachel asked.
"I did the stupid audition for the stupid play, now stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like I did something special, I just want to hang out with you." Steph loosed a loud, 'aww' from Rachel's left, which Rachel did her best to ignore. Max stirred slightly, and sat half up, looking around in confusion. Chloe finally looked down at her. It took Rachel a second but she got to her feet as Brooke vanished inside the classroom. For a moment, the urge to kiss Chloe overrode her sense of where she was, but that particular fire dulled, probably as a result of the wolf whistle issuing from a spot below and to her left. Damn it, Steph.
"Right, now that that moment's gone, I think it's time for me to get home." It took Steph a second to get up, probably due to the fact that she insisted on pulling Max up with her and Max was very much exhausted. "You, young lady, need to go to bed." Rachel turned back to see Max shouldering her bag as she rose but there was clearly difficulty even standing. What the hell happened in there? She looks like she ran a marathon. It was true, Max's exhaustion seemed almost exaggerated, but Rachel didn't think she was that kind of person. And it's kind of hard to fake that whole "I'm not sure where I am" look in her eyes. "Come on," Steph said, pulling Max along by the hand. "I'll drop her off before I leave." Rachel shot a look back at Chloe.
"Later," Chloe called at their retreating forms. Now, far quieter, the girl added, "Oh shit, Steph's definitely got a crush." Rachel was forced to agree. "Not sure if Max likes girls, though." When she turned back, Rachel furrowed her brow at her. "What?"
"Are you stupid or just pretending?" Rachel asked the girl. The pink tinge to her cheeks and the way she shrugged, looking away was the only answer she needed. They probably didn't need to talk about it in some place so public. This time Rachel reached up and rested an arm across Chloe's shoulders. "Alright, I wanna grab my notebooks before we leave."
"Let's do it," Chloe agreed. It didn't take long to reach Rachel's locker, but during that time the quiet between them felt unnatural. Okay, maybe being so blunt about Max wanting a piece of her was a bad idea. How do I fix it? Rachel opened her mouth to try to placate the girl, but Chloe's attention was fixated on something on the floor. Rachel followed her gaze to a pool of something red. For one horrible moment, she thought the liquid that had very clearly poured out of her locker was blood. Too thin, she told herself. She stepped carefully around the pool and took a closer look at her locker.
"It's been pried open," Chloe said. "Where was David the Doucheguard when that happened?" Rachel pulled the door wide open and grimaced. Mother fuckers. It wasn't the notebooks or even the paperback on the floor of the locker, drenched entirely in paint, that upset her. It was the dark, leather jacket which someone had taken extra special care to ruin that really pissed her off. I may not be the type to obsess about clothes but I liked that jacket. She clenched a fist, cursed and slammed the door shut. Broken by whatever was used to break into it, the door bounced wide open again. "Hey, hey, relax."
"That's it," Rachel said. "I don't care about all the graffiti-" The voices of the two boys on the far end of the hall quieted.
"You mean like, "Rachel Amber is a Stupid Bitch' scrawled on the bathroom wall?" Chloe asked. Rachel did not respond.
"I don't care about giving me shitty looks, but he just crossed the line by fucking with my shit." Chloe's confused face frustrated Rachel at this point. She was, in fact, beginning to feel a little warmer. At the far end of the hallway, leaning against another set of lockers entirely, Eliot and Nathan were talking to one another. "They pay."
"Who?" Chloe asked her.
"The stuck up prick and the boy tripping over himself to get into your pants," she spat, gesturing down the hall. Astounding, she thought, bitterly as she watched first confusion and then dawning comprehension cross Chloe's face. "Jesus Christ, Chloe, I love you and all but Max is right, sometimes you're a daft fucker." She expected Chloe to be offended or get irritated back. What she did not expect was for her to shut up entirely and have trouble meeting Rachel's eyes. "What?" she asked, genuinely confused.
"You love me?" Rachel closed her eyes and exhaled. This was not the time for that kind of conversation. Also, did I actually say that? Does that mean I meant it? Should I have meant it? Aren't we basically just friends who occasionally cross the line? She dismissed the last idea as her kidding herself. She had always expected that eventually things would become a little more serious, but there was no rush. Not with a lifetime ahead.
"Yeah, well, you know, get over it," she said, before kicking her locker door once more. It left a notable dent. "And your buddy Eliot?" she continued, loudly enough to hopefully be audible to the two boys down the hall. "If he ever touches anything of mine again, I'm going to break the hand he touches it with."
"Oh yeah?" Chloe asked, suddenly grinning brightly enough that Rachel felt both warmer and embarrassed. She stepped closer to Rachel and leaned down slightly, toward her. "Does that include me?"
"You are such a dick sometimes, let's get out of here." Rachel took Chloe by the hand and willfully led her toward the doors. They had to swerve to avoid running into Brooke as she emerged from the theater classroom without breaking stride. Rachel didn't even think to apologize. "I'm going to hate myself for acting like this in an hour, but right now I need to get outside." Chloe moved a little more quickly to keep up. Rachel tried to ignore that the blooming punk seemed to be humming. I can't tell if today can go fuck itself or not.
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