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 Fourteen: AkratismosNo dreams last night. This was her first thought as she opened her eyes. I wonder if there's a way to make there be dreams? Chloe sat up rather slowly but the truth was that she felt well rested and she knew there was a starting gun to be on the line for. Still, if she made less noise before she got to her shower, it was less likely she would run into either her mother or David. This was probably for the best, given their explosive argument the night before and the fact that Max's birthday party was upcoming. She didn't think either of them could actually stop her from leaving the house against their will but she wasn't about to push them to that point. For the moment, she was just satisfied by the act of finally speaking her mind.
The Chloe in the mirror in one corner of her room didn't look satisfied. She looked anxious. Chloe took a moment to idle, examining her reflection in the mirror. It's probably safe to say this is about as tall as I'm going get for the rest of my life, Chloe thought, eyes trailing from the mirror to the graffiti'd corner of the room where her father used to mark her progressing height. At least I left mom in the dust. For the third time in as many days she frowned at her showing roots and decided that something would need to be done about them.
I've only got a little money left at this point. I can't exactly go spending it on dye. As much as I enjoy it. She considered just lifting the dye but the idea didn't sit well with her. It sat so badly in fact that as she glanced in the mirror she went from anxious to frustrated. Chloe turned away and dug the day's outfit almost entirely at random from her closet and dresser, taking full advantage of the few pieces of clothing Rachel had gifted her long ago. She paused back in front of the mirror long enough to check the shirt against the jeans and decide it was fine, before a photo taped to the upper corner of it caught her eye.
It was not a polaroid, like most of the rest Max took but the girl had framed it expertly and used the timer on Steph's digital camera to assure she was in it. Chloe was impressed at how composed she looked, half-drunk already with an arm around either Chloe or Rachel. Mikey stood to Rachel's side and Steph to Chloe's. Chloe couldn't help but think that was a conscious decision on Steph's part. It was, all in all, a memory Chloe had come to hold dear, their first session as this new group.
Max has been stepping up to bat for us, she thought, laying her clothes on the bed. You know, it's silly but… the idea of another, smaller birthday gift wouldn't leave her mind. She knew just where the box it was buried in was. Okay, okay, you can't go digging around in the closet this morning. Chloe gathered her outfit, her phone and keys, determined to bolt straight from the bathroom after her shower to the truck. If mom catches me, I'll have to sit down to a 'nice family breakfast.' It wasn't that Chloe didn't miss breakfast with her mother. It was just simpler when they interacted as little as possible. Especially in the mornings.
I'm always way too honest first thing in the morning.
The thick plastic tray snapped loudly against the table as she sat it down a little too roughly. Both the pile of scrambled eggs and tower of toast threatened to topple in response. Opposite of her, Max looked up in confusion. Rachel simply raised an eyebrow. Chloe ignored them both for a second, sat down, bit into a slice of toast and left them to ruminate on it for a minute. Warm, melted butter and crispy toast drew Chloe's attention away from the moment and she wanted, not for the first time, to know why Blackwell had the best of everything. Chloe jerked her still blaring earbuds from her ears with one hand and reached for a small carton of milk with the other. After she swallowed and let herself take a drink, she finally spoke.
"First off," Chloe said, looking pointedly at Rachel, "You've got to stop making googly eyes at me from across the room, people are starting to talk, woman." Rachel rolled her eyes slowly for emphasis. "And you," this time she pointed an egg bearing fork at Max, who had gone back for a moment to staring blearily at her tray, as if she was not in much of a good mood. "Happy Birthday." Max lifted her head and smiled lightly, though Chloe noted that it didn't quite reach her ears.
"Thanks," she said. "I've already gotten a wake up call from someone," Max eyed Rachel sideways. In response, with a sort of challenging grin, the taller girl bit into a slice of bacon. "Then about six texts each from my parents and four from Joyce." Chloe rolled her eyes but chuckled. So what, Max deserved to be doted on on her birthday. Everyone did, at least by the people they loved. Phrasing, Price. Chloe looked down to find that half of her toast tower had vanished. Now who did that?
"Someone's hungry," Rachel teased. Chloe responded by sticking her tongue out. "Don't let me get ahold of that or people will really be talking." Chloe didn't push her luck but decided that this time the threat did not embarrass her so much as intrigue her. Turning her eyes back to Max she found the girl still looking a little despondent as she picked at her own breakfast. Chloe glanced once at Rachel, who, grimacing, shook her head as if to say she did not know.
"So, while you were off meeting up with Frank, Rachel and I sort of snuck out of town yesterday to pick up a gift," she continued. "It's safely hidden away at the location of our party on Saturday."
"You didn't have to do that," Max replied, looking up. She was suddenly slightly uncomfortable and it was only then that Chloe noticed her fiddling with her camera in her lap. Okay, what's that about? Maybe she doesn't have a picture she needs for an assignment for that photo essay class? I think she was having some trouble with it. Chloe raised an eyebrow. "You guys know I appreciate having any kind of party at all."
"Max, shut up," Chloe said. "I told you before you flew back off to Seattle that we were going to try to make this one rock. It's not gonna be all I wanted it to be, but we're gonna have fun, and that includes a gift." Max did, in fact, shut up. She even smiled more genuinely. "And this morning I thought of something else I actually really want you to have."
"What's that?" Max asked her.
"We'll save that for the party, or maybe the morning after." Chloe sat about attacking dinner again.
"Oh," Rachel said, "That reminds me, did you get your mom and dad to give the school permission to let you sleep off campus Saturday?" Max nodded.
"I told them I was going to stay with Steph, though I think I've barely talked about her at all to them," Max admitted, running a hand through her brown hair as if trying to tame it, though it looked fine, certainly slightly more put together than usual. "I really can't wait for Saturday, though. It was really cool of Steph and Mikey to be okay with putting off the session until then. I just, I guess I'm a little more nervous about practice tonight."
"Why?" Chloe asked.
"Well, Mr. Keaton wanted us to start trying to memorize the lines a little harder. What if he wants us out of book already?"
"There's no way in hell," Rachel told her. "Last time we didn't get out of book for almost four weeks. It's barely been two. Tell you what, Puck, bring the script with you one of these nights when we hang out. We'll run lines. Even if I have to read for Oberon." Max relaxed slightly, in fact, most of the way. Was that really all it was? Chloe asked herself as the photographer began to eat properly. Jesus, Max, I didn't think the play was actually making you nervous.
At first the idea of Max and Rachel spending most evenings together had made Chloe a little confused, if not quite uncomfortable. The idea that they hung out despite Rachel apparently having the same suspicions about the girl that Chloe did was encouraging, she had decided a few days ago. It was as if they were going beyond a couple of separate friendships. They were just, Chloe, Rachel and Max, not some discordant group of people who hung out because of odd circumstances. In the end that was a comfortable thought. It was just that sometimes Chloe had her own suspicions. She tried to shake them off, reminding herself that if Rachel and Max continued to get along it might make any future issues a lot less painful. Besides, Max might get end up getting too focused on other things for something like a crush to really matter.
Would you actually want that? This thought was an outsider: unbidden and unwelcome. Chloe buried it immediately under worries about homework, play practice, birthday parties and the future Mr. and Mrs. Madsen. Both for her sake and the sake of keeping the conversation going Chloe decided to change the subject. Nothing is without its risks in this situation, Chloe thought to herself. I think that's a sign I need to spend a bit more time with Max myself and figure out what makes her tick. It's weird to think Rachel might know her better like this.
"So, does Skinhead Prescott think you had anything to do with the whole 'now-I-need-Rogaine' incident?" Chloe asked Max, genuinely concerned. This time, Max shrugged.
"Honestly? I don't think so but he hasn't really talked to me in a few days. I'm kind of over it. I tried to help someone I thought was lonely and he acted like a prick to my best friends." Plural, Chloe thought, not quite able to stop herself from uncomfortably shifting in her seat. "Besides, considering Eliot's black eye, I think you're probably right about him being a little unhinged." Despite her past friendliness with Eliot, Chloe simply had to think about the grafitti up around the school or the impromptu paint job of the inside of Rachel's locker and she didn't particularly feel much regret that Eliot and Nathan had resorted to a fist fight.
Of course it got covered up because boys will be boys and poor little rich boys will get what they want, Chloe thought, slightly bitter. Still. Nathan Prescott sat alone today, though judging by the furtive looks being thrown his way by one Victoria Chase (dressed far more richly than she used to be, Chloe noticed) it was most certainly by his choice. Only a few days had passed since part of his hair came out in the shower and the rest was shaved off, so from where she sat she couldn't even really see any new growth and, apparently, he had decided against a hat. Maybe a bad choice there, buddy. At the very least his scalp no longer looked red, at least until he lost his temper.
"He didn't do anything, did he?" Rachel asked. "Like, to make you change your mind."
"Nope, just the shit with Eliot."
"Good," Chloe said, before taking a large bite. She let the implied threat hang in the air. For a few seconds, they sat in silence again before Chloe admitted, "I really can't wait for the Saturday session." Who knew I'd turn out to be such a damn nerd?
"Me too," Rachel replied. "I'm so close to leveling up and there's this spell I really want to take."
"Gee," Max said, catching a bit of bacon on the edge of a fork already loaded with eggs stolen from Rachel's tray. "It wouldn't happen to have anything to do with fire would it?" When Rachel stuck out her tongue, Chloe grimaced at her orange juice. Note to self, she thought, Rachel does not get to cast on anyone I'm in combat with. Dre smash, Dre doesn't burn. "I thought as much," Max told her, and then pushed her own tray away. Chloe stacked it beneath her own.
"I'll take it when I'm done," she said.
"Thanks," Max shot back. "How goes Mikey's secret gift?" Chloe grimaced slightly, giving a noncommittal gesture with her hand. "Well, it's only going to be like, one or two scenes per session, so it's not like you don't have a lot of time."
"Maybe," Chloe said. "Unless Mr. North is like half the other parents and just gets pissed off and pulls Mikey out now."
"I don't think he will," Rachel told her. "He's gotta know how sad this makes him."
"Maybe, but I've been working on the tattoo idea lately. I kind of need to catch up with someone," Chloe added. "Since she's already rocking a badass dragon."
"A badass dragon that you designed for me," Rachel replied, squinting slightly. "What was I gonna do, just never get it?"
"You waited two weeks."
"Two long, excruciating weeks," Rachel replied. Chloe rolled her eyes.
"Could I see it?" Max asked. "I've never gotten a good look." Does she mean the tattoo or…?
"At my design?" Chloe clarified. She found herself feeling a lot less jovial than she had been a second ago. "Uh, sure I guess, I'll bring it to the Saturday session-party thing." The truth is, I'm nearly done with it but I'm not so sure about it now. "To start with, I had this really basic design idea: pictures that stood for people and things that were like, important? Like, one was going to be a twisting railroad that ran most of the way up my arm. I also wanted a pirate's eyepatch. That sort of thing." She could tell with just a glance that each of the girls understood the symbols she was describing. "When the weird ass dreams got worse, thoug, I tried to use things I saw in them. I was still going to tie them together with that red ribbon, but…"
"But?" Max asked her.
"Well, now I know that some of those dreams might not be mine. If I'm picking up dreams or symbols from other people, they might mean something different to them and I don't know if I'd like that in their position." At least I know I want to keep the broken theater masks, Chloe told herself, raising her head. She caught Rachel staring and, ignoring that she was about to do the same, decided to tease her slightly by pulling a face. "Don't get so serious about it. I'll just have to think about things a bit."
"Did you uh, have any kind of images for me?" Max asked, quietly. "I mean, other than the eyepatch?" Turning a little red, Chloe nodded.
"I had this weird dream the night we found Sera," Chloe told her. "You know, the three of us crashed out in the back of the RV." Swallowing, Chloe remembered the dream with more detail than she probably ought to. "It's silly."
"I'm curious," Max told her.
"It was this dream of you, but not really you? Like an older you. You were chasing this big, blue butterfly through Blackwell." Max blanched and Chloe realized she had hit the nail on the head with her guess. "That was your dream, right?" When the photographer nodded, Chloe looked at Rachel. It didn't seem to bother Rachel to imagine that Chloe might have found herself sharing a dream with Max, but then again her face was awfully impassive. "I'm sorry," she finally said, though it felt lame. Max laughed in response. "Okay, what's so funny?"
"If you're seeing peoples' dreams, that's not the weirdest thing in the world, Chloe, try not to worry about it." Max was smiling as she put her camera away in her bag. Well, what is? Chloe almost asked her. "But you might be right," Max told her. "About the symbols. The butterfly… sometimes I think I know what it means and it's not good. Other times I think it is."
"Have that dream a lot?" Chloe asked her. Max nodded.
"That's one of the better ones," Max told her. "But- never mind."
"Face it," Rachel replied, seeming to find her voice again. "If you weren't weird, I wouldn't like you so much."
"Don't you mean, wuuuuuuuuv?" Chloe asked her, teasing blatantly. As Rachel rolled her eyes in response and turned away, Max spat out a word that sounded distinctly like 'nauseating.' When Chloe looked at her she didn't particularly look upset though. You're being too sensitive, Price. You're starting to stress out on nothing, shit that exists only in your head.
"Have you turned anything up on all that?" Rachel asked Max. Max leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hand.
"Well," Max said, "There's a few cultures that have some kind of similar concept. Like, more than you'd guess, but none of it really matches up." She seemed to hum for a moment with thought and then continued. "I mean, most of the time the ability is pretty deeply entangled in peoples' beliefs and cultures. Like, take Dream Walkers for example. They're not really about walking into peoples' dreams unless it's to help them. They're more about transcending time and space, communication with people that aren't still on the mortal plane." Chloe raised an eyebrow at her. "So while it sounds cool, calling you a Dream Walker is kind of appropriative."
"You know, I was fine with dream mage," Chloe quipped. Rachel raised one finger skyward.
"Absolutely not," Rachel told them both. "Under no circumstances is anyone to refer to Chloe as a 'dream mage,' under penalty of death."
"It's more like shared dreaming," Max said. "Which is kind of wicked. Though if you ever figure out how to just go to other peoples' dreams at will…"
"Sometimes, I don't even know I'm dreaming, still." Max looked contemplative.
"I think I can help with that one," she responded. "But give me a day or two."
"So," Steph asked when, a few minutes later, Chloe found herself in the theater classroom across the aisle from Rachel. Steph was sat directly in front of them, turned around in her seat. "No strange fainting spells planned for today?"
"I don't know what you could ever mean," Rachel replied, fanning herself. She took on an exaggerated 'southern belle' accent. "I do declare, it was simply too warm in this classroom yesterday." Around that time, Chloe watched Hayden enter from the corner of her eye, looking a little on the disgruntled side. He's been having trouble memorizing his parts, I think. I wonder if Theseus really agrees with him. The boy tried to hide his frustration as he greeted the three of them, providing a distraction from Steph's questioning.
It's not like I think either of us care if she knows. I'm sure she's figured it out my now, anyway. News spread around the population of the school pretty fast after Nathan lost his cool in the boys' dorm, ambushing Eliot in the television room and accusing him of being behind the hair-loss incident. All of that while wearing only a towel. To Chloe it was just the best confirmation that she was right: Nathan wasn't really all there. Rachel or I really should have been his first guess.
"So," Rachel asked suddenly, leaning slightly toward Chloe. "What kind of scene did you submit yesterday anyway?" Chloe swallowed. Don't tell her, she warned herself. Don't tell her. If you're lucky he won't even pull yours. Glancing back to the door, Chloe called out a loud, sudden greeting toward Juliet as she stepped through the door. This time, both Steph and Rachel were suspiciously eyeing her. I'm so fucked. Face reddening, Chloe leaned back when Juliet stopped in front of them.
"Hey, Chloe," the taller girl greeted, looking a little taken aback by the sudden friendly greeting. "How'd that essay go in English? I think I didn't do so well."
"Ah, I'm comfortable enough with it," she said, hoping to keep the subject off of her improv prompt long enough for the two girls in front of her to forget. Like that's gonna happen. "I'd have asked Max for help with it, but she kind of hates that book." Juliet nodded.
"I'm pretty sure at one point she snapped at Warren for calling her 'Maxden Caulfield.' She never snaps at anyone, much less Warren." Chloe raised an eyebrow.
"What, are they buds?" she asked, feeling a little surprised not to have heard about this.
"It's kinda weird," Juliet said, this time settling into the seat beside Steph's. Both Rachel and Steph were suddenly paying more attention to the conversation than to Chloe, so Chloe marked that a win. "It's like sometimes she tries to be his friend and other times she doesn't? I think it's because he's just so flip-floppy."
"What do you mean?" Steph asked.
"Well, he likes to pick someone to pay a lot of attention to, like, way too much. If they actually start to pay any attention to him, though, it's like he gets bored. I don't know what his deal is, but he does think he's funny with all his cute little nicknames. Max usually puts up with them, but yesterday…" Chloe marked that information down for later consideration.
"No jokes about any relation between Max and any fictional Caulfield," Steph said, as if committing it to memory. "Fair enough." Dana followed Mr. Keaton into the room, talking excitedly about something that Chloe couldn't really understand. Either way it meant that their little pow-wow was broken up. Victory, Chloe thought, when Steph and Juliet turned to their notebooks and Rachel began to idly flip through her script.
"Hello, hello my dears," Mr. Keaton greeted. "Ah, my favorite time of day, my favorite class, the history and art of improvisation." Don't let this turn into a speech about the importance of improv, Chloe thought. Not again. "This class gives me hope that it will not be a dying art form." For just a moment the man drew in a breath as if to begin the dreaded rant, but then he said, "Ah," and rose from his seat on the short stage to his desk, where an old cap sat. Fuck, Chloe thought, I take it back, I wanna hear it again! "So, I am sure you're quite excited to finish these up," Chloe rolled her eyes. "We'll try to get two or three done today, before we go over the reading."
"What's wrong?" Rachel asked her, in a low whisper. Chloe shot a look toward the girl as Mr. Keaton announced that they 'might as well start off.' The bell rang just as he reached one thin hand into the cap and pulled a sheet of paper out. He waited patiently, the serene image he coated himself with during class hours not broken by what Chloe knew had to be quite testing. Mr. Keaton was actually a little on the impatient side from time to time.
"Ah, now this is an interesting one," Mr. Keaton drew the paper up to his face to read it a second time, more closely. "'You and your partner wake up to discover you've just had the same dream.'" Rachel's look of utter shock made Chloe more embarrassed than anything else the girl had said or done lately.
"Look, I just panicked and I didn'tknowwhattodo-" she spat it all out at once, in a whisper.
"For this one, how about we give Ms. Amber her first scene." Son of a bitch, Chloe thought. Don't call my name, don't call my name. "And Ms. Gingrich." Chloe was relieved that someone else was to act out this very personal scene with Rachel, in one way, but in another she wasn't. Especially considering Steph having, at least at one point, had feelings for her. Steph got up to her feet and after a moment, Rachel buried the stunned look on her face and got up to follow.
Well, Chloe said, I guess turnabout's fair play, she and I did a scene yesterday while Rachel was stuck in the nurse's office. The look on Rachel's face when she turned to look out at the crowd from the stage, though, promised there were going to be words exchanged about this. I think we can file this one under 'you fucked up, Price.' Chloe settled a grin on her face in response, determined to enjoy the scene.
This was no small stage in a classroom that Chloe stood on, some time later. Oh, no. This one was fairly large in comparison and put together much better. She stood opposite of Rachel, who was looking slightly horrified on the other side of the stage, a trio of faceless figures helping her with the back of her dress. Her hair is gorgeous, Chloe thought, following the intricate braid, (interspersed with flowers ) with her eyes. Chloe wasn't sure what the look on Rachel's face was about, but she wrapped her arms around herself, taken out of the moment by a cool gust of wind.
One moment there was no one out there, in front of the stage. When she turned away from Rachel to look out, the next, the seats were filled. Each one of them, to the last, was occupied by somebody laughing as hard as she had ever heard another person laugh. Shivering, Chloe turned in confusion toward Rachel, who ran a hand along the length of her own dress. Chloe looked down. She herself wore a green tunic, something that seemed entirely out of place in a play set in ancient Greece, but that wasn't what bothered her. It wasn't what explained how cold she felt. It wasn't even what explained the laughter.
Where she might expect pants or even a long skirt (it's supposed to be a gender bent Oberon, right?) there was nothing. Chloe lowered her arms quickly to cover her front. How the fuck did I get out of the changing room in my underwear? Chloe wondered, looking askance at Rachel or her 'helpers.' How did nobody stop me? There was definitely someone who should have stopped her, if not Rachel.
"Puck," she exclaimed, calling toward the back. "PUCK!" Also dressed slightly inappropriately for her role, Max hurried in from stage right, in a dark but plain shirt and pants. She stopped after stepping on stage, looking confused. "How the hell did this happen?"
"Language!" Shouted a voice from the crowd. Chloe ignored David. That was easiest. Maybe it's time to exit, stage right.
"You sure about that, kiddo?" Chloe turned back toward Rachel. All three of her servants had vanished and in their place, looking no older than the day he died, was Chloe's father. His voice boomed over the talking and laughter from the crowd. "Or is this an opportunity?" Chloe blinked, feeling her cheeks begin to cool. "How do you think you got out of the changing room without noticing you weren't wearing pants? Do you really think Rachel or Max would let you embarrass yourself like that?"
"We wouldn't, you know," Max told her, from only a step or two behind, tone serious. "You get that, don't you?" Rachel started to approach, moving toward center stage.
"That's not the sort of thing we'd do to you," Rachel agreed. "Not for real." Chloe began to understand then. Pants, Chloe told herself. I want some fucking pants. In the next moment, there simply were pants on her and they were mercifully warm against this strangely potent wind which had begun to cause the set to sway behind them. Greek robes and togas and shit aren't really my style, Chloe thought, looking down at the tattered blue jeans now around her lower half.
"This is my dream, so I can wear what I want," Chloe said, nodding as she matched eyes with her father.
"That's my girl," Rachel said. Her voice was barely audible over the crowd, which would not stop jeering at Chloe, mocking her.
"What's next?' Max asked, now moving up to stand between she and Rachel. In answer, Chloe turned her gaze outward. Few of the people calling at her, laughing from the crowd, were clear in her vision. Her mother and David sat in a far corner, the Ambers in the front row. Looking murderous, Nathan sat beside them. Usually, she would want to understand what it meant, but this wasn't a usual circumstance. Now, she simply wanted them all gone.
"Now," Chloe told Dream Max, focusing on the people in front of her. "Now fuck this." For a second the production of A Midsummer Night's Dream had a crowd in attendance that would make Mr. Keaton swoon. Then, with as little as a thought, every man woman and child in it was gone. Absolute silence ruled the stage. When Chloe turned back her father was nowhere to be seen, but Max and Rachel were backing toward the exit at stage left. They said nothing and made no gestures, but Chloe knew she was supposed to follow. Deeply satisfied, she glanced once at the spotlight beating down on the stage and it dimmed.
Chloe followed the most important people in her life into the darkness backstage.