Disclaimer: Anything familiar to you, I don't own. This is a work of fanfiction for personal amusement, fulfillment and a bit of self-therapy. I make nothing from any of it.
Chapter Fifty-Seven: Mentor
March 16th, 2012 2:42 PM
The sight of her notebook was no longer enough for Max. Around her was a whole list of things that she wanted to know, to understand, to analyze until they stopped scaring her. Quite suddenly, almost overnight, everything had changed. That was terrifying. Slowly, Max lifted her eyes from her notebook and brought her ears back into focus, too. On the other side of the room, Nathan Prescott was speaking. His hands were folded in front of him and his eye was focused intently on Mark Jefferson as he delivered some fairly well put together and eloquent response to a question that Max had not heard. This, here, was an example of problem number one.
All of the sudden, Nathan was not only well behaved in class, but actively participating, polite and attentive. It set off every alarm bell in her head which she had tied to the idea of Nathan Prescott and Mark Jefferson becoming partners. Nathan had even taken to dressing nicer: a dark jacket, his thick hair held back by some kind of gel and, perhaps in part to protect what remained of his vision, he had begun to wear a set of glasses which he seemed to think gave him the air of someone somewhat more mature than he was. They did not, in Max's opinion, but that didn't stop her from being unnerved by the behavioral shifts, especially when it came to Nathan being friendly with Jefferson. Then there was the matter of Jefferson becoming more distant with her. That would normally be a relief, but it was only a slight change, barely noticable to anyone who was not hyperaware of his every move, word, breath. This all might look like nothing to most people. It was not nothing.
Then there was Victoria, Max thought, shooting the girl a look across the room. Even despite her attempts to actually hang out with Victoria and Taylor, both separately and together, Max felt as if their progress toward at least understanding each other better had suddenly stalled. The girl was constantly tense. Max had gathered enough by wheedling both her and Chloe to figure out that the two had talked the other day, but she did not know what about and it did not seem to be connected to Victoria's mood shift. What she suspected was connected was the fact that Courtney seemed to be on the outside of Victoria and Taylor's friendship all of the sudden. Looking the girl in question over, the thin brunette responded to meeting Max's eyes by immediately looking away, frustration obvious in the angles of her face. Okay, so I'm getting the blame for that one, apparently.
The photography class continued, going far too idyllically. Whenever Jefferson spoke, two or three hands usually raised to answer his questions. Nathan's was almost always among them, when for the majority of the last couple of months he had made a big show about being barely responsive to the man's attempts to engage him on anything. Max couldn't prove anything, at least not yet but she had a plan. Something's changed, Max told herself for the sixth time that day. Maybe Jefferson and Nathan connected over photography. Maybe Jefferson caught onto the rumors about Nathan trying to hurt Victoria. They've started to get around. With Stella still missing, it was possible that Jefferson had put two and two together about her, too, and spotted a kindred spirit. Look, Max told herself as she accidentally met Jefferson's dark eyes and looked down at her notebook. This early on, Jefferson's probably not super involved with the Prescotts. There's no reason to assume they're up to their shit in the Dark Room. Still, if the possibility existed that the two were connected, finally and Nathan was growing otherwise more unstable, Max couldn't allow things to go on much longer. His death glares and hateful reproaches were no longer reserved for Max or Rachel. They had come to stretch to Chloe, Victoria and even Taylor and Courtney. Taylor practically wilts when he does it and Victoria tries not to look, but I can see how scared she gets.
All in all, Max thought as the bell rang, cutting a distracted Jefferson off mid sentence, this was not fucking good. It was a surprisingly easy thing to collect your gear and be the first out of the door when one did not make themselves comfortable in a classroom. Max was, frankly, impressed when she looked back and caught sight of Kate following her out of the room. I'm gonna have to shake her, Max thought, feeling guilty. Kate was lovely and all, but she didn't really know much about what Max had experienced in relation to Nathan, nor about the fact that Max was keeping an eye on him. Even with her powers, her next exercise was going to be made more difficult with Kate around.
"Hey," Max greeted the girl the moment they got out of there. "Are you alright?" Kate nodded, though she glanced back to the room.
"That's like, the only class where Nathan's acted... normal in a couple of weeks," Kate observed, in a low voice as Max crossed to the wall opposite of Jefferson's classroom door. She did not want to stay close enough to be overheard.
"Yeah," Max agreed as she unceremoniously shoved her pencil and notebook into her messenger bag. "Look, I'm gonna have to catch up with you later, Kate. I need to talk to someone really quickly." There was a moment where Kate paused, as if trying to read signs of any kind of problem between them and then, reluctantly, nodded. Kate was particularly sensitive to the signs of any fluctuation in relationships ever since Stella's disappearance. It was as if she had some fear of being abandoned. Max wasn't sure what to do for her, but she tried to smile apologetically as the girl gave a wave and slipped away announcing that she was going to be in her room, reading. I'll figure out what to do to cheer her up later.
From over Victoria's shoulder as the girl paused in the doorway, Max saw Nathan watching her. All she could think to do in that moment was wave Victoria over to her. Maybe it's best I don't tell her Nathan's staring at us? Max watched several emotions which were hard to catch one at a time and identify play across Victoria's face. Whatever had changed over the last couple of days, Max badly needed it not to stand between the two of them. After a second more and with no sign of any snide remarks or other protests Victoria approached her and, when she finally reached Max with Taylor in tow, Nathan looked away from them. As for Victoria and Taylor, they turned in time to catch him as he passed the open doorway and moved toward the front of the classroom. We're so fucked.
"Victoria, have you ever seen Nathan get this scary and then this calm?" In all of his other classes, Nathan had the potential to be silent and inattentive but he also had the potential (and, nowadays, the tendency) to be an utter terror, loud and violent. No matter what he did he never seemed to miss much more time than it took for the trip down to the Principal's Office or the Nurse when a teacher declared that he was 'obviously distressed.' So far the history teacher was the biggest offender on this front.
"No," Victoria all but whispered, and this time Taylor and Max drew closer to her to hear her. Max had to tilt her head a bit and look up into the blonde's face. She was uncomfortable but if she had any true inkling as to the danger they were all actually in, she did not show it. "He's getting worse and it's really kind of scary."
"Victoria, I think it's scarier than even you've realized yet." This was all the warning that Max thought she could safely give but no matter how much either blonde in front of her stared, Max did not tell them precisely what she meant. She only steadily met their gazes in turn and hoped like hell they could absorb a bit of the truth of her warning through that connection.
"I'd- I'd be better if Stella Hill just turned up okay or something. I'm scared something's going to happen any second now." Oh it is. It absolutely is. You just won't know a fucking thing. Max kept her eye on the classroom as the familiar faces began to empty from it: Dana, Juliet, Hayden, Daniel, Courtney, one after another the room emptied until there could only be two left in the room. Mark Jefferson and Nathan Prescott.
"Victoria, welcome to my world," Max told her. When she reached out to pat the girl on the shoulder, Victoria went rigid and stood a little straighter. Did she have difficulty with being touched? Max had been there a time or two in her life. She removed her hand quickly. "Scared is like, my default emotion."
"Why don't I believe that?" Taylor asked her, drawing Max's eyes away from the classroom door.
"No more being alone with Nathan," Max told the both of them.
"Okay," Victoria's response was immediate and carried with it the 'well, duh' tone. "I don't have a death wish. I just wish I didn't sleep in the same building as him."
"You and me both. You and me both. This is my home, though. I'm not going anywhere. Not for that spoiled prick." For a moment that seemed to be all there was to the conversation. Max gave Courtney the side-eye. The girl had stopped a bit down the hall and was pretending to check her phone but Max knew that she was watching Victoria and Taylor. Maybe she wanted a word with them or maybe she was just spying, but whatever the cause was, it was something that needed taken care of soon. She was going to ask Victoria about it when the girl spoke.
"I told someone what happened."
"Who?" Max asked, a little curious.
"Mark Jefferson." Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Like that, the puzzle fell into place. The alarm in the back of her mind swelled to a crescendo and then died: there was no warning left to give. The danger was clear and present. Jefferson had always had an interest in Nathan that Max assumed was down to his - unique style of photography and the similarities it shared with the darkest depths of Jefferson's philosophies. I bet the moment Victoria told him, he reached out to Nathan. This time, unsure if she cared how uncomfortable it made Victoria if it got her attention, Max pushed between her and Taylor and reached up, placing a hand on either of Victoria's shoulders.
"Listen to me. Jefferson is shady as shit and that's why I've stopped paying attention or talking in class." Dubious, dark green eyes bored into her skull as if trying to read the contents of her mind. Fuck, if only you could. Max told herself to stay calm but she also knew she was holding very tightly to the taller blonde's shoulders, tight enough to possibly even leave marks. "Victoria. Do not trust him. I'll send you all of the evidence I have tonight." Though she was attempting to stay calm, the plan she had begun to hatch during class resurfaced in her mind and it now felt more important than ever. To her immense relief, Victoria nodded very slowly and Max released her.
"Hey, you all okay?" Max's head spun toward the sound. Rachel and Chloe approached, devoid of Brooke or Steph. Maybe they're at their lockers, Max told herself. Chloe carried her board beneath her left arm even as she tried to balance a fatter schoolbag than usual over her right shoulder. As for Rachel, she looked rather like someone angling for a nap even from a distance. She walked practically hunched over. Okay, one problem at a time, Max, she coached herself as she turned away from them all to watch Nathan emerge from the classroom, his face tilted down and focused on his phone. The boy took one or two steps to clear the door and froze. Yes. Just like that, Prescott.
"You need to talk to her." Max glanced back toward the group to find that while she had been focused on Nathan, Chloe and Rachel had joined them, forming something close to a circle. Unabashadley, Chloe's right thumb was pointed over her shoulder at Courtney. Chloe was not looking at Max, however, but instead doggedly at Victoria. Max had never seen the two of them interact so directly, so she tried to split her focus between Nathan and Victoria and Chloe. He seemed to be pretending to be unaware of the group of them only a few steps away. "I mean it," Chloe said insistently after Victoria shrugged her shoulders and pretended to play with the strap of her purse. "Maybe she did you wrong but I'd guess she only wanted to help."
"Maybe," Victoria responded, sounding dismissive.
"Look," Max said as Nathan began to move. "Chloe, Rachel and I had plans today but if you two want to hang out tomorrow-"
"Sure." While far from an enthusiastic exclamation, this was a quicker and more positive response than Max had expected to get from Victoria. Usually if they 'hung out' it was during a Vortex Club meeting or a chance encounter turned into a conversation. They had never particularly made plans before. Max tried not to stare or blink at the friendliness, eventually turning to look at Taylor who agreed, though she looked just as unnerved by Victoria's attitude as Max. Unceremoniously, Max gestured for her girls to follow her. Instead of making for the front door, though, she waved a quick goodbye to Taylor and Victoria and made for the center of the school.
"What's going on?" Rachel asked Max almost as soon as they were far enough down the hall that Victoria and Taylor wouldn't hear them. Max turned to look either girl in the face. It was then that Nathan began to walk, slowly down the hall in the same direction, texting. "Max, what's happening?"
"She's planning something," Chloe answered when Max did not. Maybe they turned to see what she was focused on or maybe they did not. Max wasn't about to avert her eyes from Nathan for anything.
"Don't worry," Max finally whispered, reaching out and finding either one's arm with one of her hands. That's not quite right. "Or I guess, worry a lot." With that, Max pushed between the two of them and as soon as she was clear she started to run, not away from Nathan but directly at him, at a sprint. The boy must have heard her rapid footfalls approaching because he looked up. Surprised, Nathan gaped at her, staring with one false eye and one real eye through a slightly scarred face. Poor Nathan, Max thought, genuinely, but poor Victoria too. Poor Stella. Poor everyone he's gone after. Nathan didn't have time to get out of the way. Max was smaller than him but that did little to mitigate the effects when she turned her left shoulder in and threw it and herself right into his chest. Almost as soon as she felt the impact she also felt pain shoot down her shoulder into her arm, which was why she had chosen to strike with her left shoulder.
Nathan bounced back and began to fall. As she had hoped, his phone slipped from his hand and through the air. She was relieved when she grabbed at it with both the hand whose arm felt like shattered lead and her right one and found purchase after juggling it for a second. Enraged, Nathan stared up at her for a second as the hallway grew quiet. Max leaned forward, smiled at him and then bolted again. Pain radiated from her arm, throbbing, demanding to be recognized, demanding she stop and show her body the care it deserved. Beneath the arm of her new sweatshirt she would not have been surprised if her flesh was, at least, bruised. That didn't matter. She had what she wanted. Max looked down as Nathan cried out for her to stop. A scuffle sounded in her ears and she heard Rachel shouting for Chloe to 'move out of the way.' Max had to assume Rachel wanted a crack at Nathan, but whatever the case it sounded like she was home free.
She eagerly shifted from screen to screen on the phone, but not to see anything in particular. It would have been nigh on impossible to focus on the screen at that point. She simply knew most screens shut off after not being used for a few seconds and if the phone was password protected this would all be for naught. When Max reached not the doors closest to the classroom she had just escaped but the front doors instead, she turned her good arm into the handle and pushed the door open. The sunlight flooded over her body, but it did little to warm her or to calm the jitters the adrenaline was giving her. Faces turned as the door slammed hard at the edge of its frame. Max ignored most of them but as she descended the stairs she caught sight of Steph and Brooke posted up not far from the front of the school, ostensibly waiting on her, Rachel and Chloe.
"Knock his ass down," Max called desperately back at them as she bolted for the parking lot. Sure that would probably make very little sense to the two girls, at least until Nathan came out of those doors. I mean, if he even fucking got away from Chloe and Rachel. The two were not a force to be taken lightly. It was when Max hit the steps of the lot that she realized she had been taking gulping breaths through her mouth and that the adrenaline was making her head swim and her heart pound. Eager to keep the phone from going to a locked screen, she pressed any icon she could.
She scanned the lot and found the Frankentruck surprisingly close to the steps. With one great heave Max leaped from the ground to grab hold of the edge of the pickup truck and heaved herself in. The pain in her arm peaked from the exertion alone but was none-too-kind on her when she slammed into the rusty bed of the truck and grew still. Dazed, Max lifted the phone up to her eyes. The light of the screen took a moment to focus on, but when she could she realized it was displaying some sort of stupid phone game in which Hawt Dawg Man had to collect mustard packets and avoid grills and what looked to be little jets. She found the home button and double clicked it, recognizing the model of the phone as being similar to Rachel's. With that knowledge in mind it was almost too easy to open his text messages. Listening, she heard a fresh round of yelling from somewhere on campus. Nathan had made it out of the building.
The boy had three conversations that had seen any activity in the last twenty-four hours. She opened the first.
Me
Yo, I'm looking for the hookup. Same as last month. You got the gear?
E
You got my money? You still owe me fifty from last month.
Me
I've got your money. Let's meet.
Nathan's got a new dealer. Her contact's name in Edgeton was Luke, so apparently Nathan was dealing with someone else. That was an unfortunate development, but this conversation proved nothing about what she wanted.
Fucking Loser
Hey Dude, got the ludes?
Me
Yeah. Tonight at the usual.
Fucking Loser
Sick. I need to bail out tonight, big time.
Justin looking for his hookup, Max thought as she moved her injured left arm. That did not hurt as badly as she expected it to, however placing her left hand over her chest did nothing to calm the absolute pounding bassdrop that was her heart. Let the beat drop, she thought, half delirious as she pulled up the third and final conversation and upon reading the last line, scrolled up a few.
Nathan
I enjoyed our conversation the other night and I've thought about your offer. I accept it. I want to learn from the best. I am a Prescott, after all. I deserve the best.
?
I'm relieved to hear you say that. I have always thought you had an excellent eye for subjects. I must warn you, though, if you agree on this apprenticeship, there must be more caution and care given to your craft from now on.
Nathan
Of course, sir. I would have to be stupid to waste such an opportunity.
?
The one thing I know you are not, my dear boy, is stupid. Misunderstood, underestimated, taken advantage of, maybe, but never stupid.
Nathan
No, sir.
?
I will expect you to bring all of your work to me for evaluation. This will be an apprenticeship but I foresee great things in your future. I foresee collaboration. I foresee both of us receiving what we deserve. Me, worthy subjects and you the respect you've been denied, as long as you are smart about what you do.
Surprisingly not close to vomiting, Max reached up with her right hand, tilted it to the left and hurled the phone out of the back of the truck. Eyes shutting, she did her best to tune out the yelling from campus or the sound of Steph calling out her name. She did her best, even, to tune out the sound of Nathan's phone hitting the side of someone else's car and shattering. What Max had difficulty with was shutting out the mix of panic and vindication. Some small voice in the back of Max's head had always whispered, wondering if Nathan was really going to come out to be all that he was in the other timeline, if she wasn't simply acting prejudiced toward him because of what he did to her. That voice had fallen silent. It was a gratifying, almost sensual silence and the idea of revelling in it was not unappealing. Hell, the idea of crying in a strange, almost contradictory relief didn't sound bad, either. How fucked am I to be relieved Nathan is going to be manipulated by Jefferson again? Maybe it was fucked, but there was one thing that her interference might do. In the other timeline Jefferson had eventually killed Nathan, but that was some time into their partnership on the eve of the storm. Now and here, she still had the potential to stop Nathan and stop Jefferson before anyone died. That's right, Max told herself as she lay still on the floor of the truck bed and tried, desperately to quiet her thoughts.
Her right hand grasped at thin air above her. She was trying to grasp at something else, something closer to the theoretical 'fabric of spacetime.' That's right. No one's died. Rachel's alive. Chloe's alive. Even Nathan's alive. The biggest question mark was Stella, but if Rachel and Kate truly had talked to someone who had seen Stella, she was still out there somewhere, maybe not even far from Arcadia Bay. And you know what you have to do, Max. You have to make sure it's safe for you all, including her. The cold, hard metal of the truck bed fell away beneath her. It took with it the pain in her arm (lessened as it was) and the rapid heartbeat, the sweating and the other symptoms of too much adrenaline. When she again opened her eyes she was not in Blackwell's parking lot.
It was hard to follow the path of adrenaline, panic, guilt and eagerness. The emotions tasted of so much, some of it good, some of it bad, but it all pulled at her. She wanted to return to those thoughts, those moments to examine them anew. They all stood out bright and clear against the backdrop of the grey-fog world that Max had come to think of as the timescape. Even still, she was determined to get past those glowing bright gashes of emotion in time and find the ones that she wanted, the ones that were safe, not enriched by the kind of adrenaline that threatened hearts. Eventually, she came upon a neat, thin tear in the timescape.
Through the opening, she observed her own face, heard her own voice asking Victoria and Taylor to hang out with them the next day. The plan had not yet been put into action. That was when and where she wanted to be. Max pushed herself, her Self through that cut, being birthed from this void into the world at a more peaceful moment. Light and sensation came first: breath in her lungs, warm air on her skin from the school's heating system, Chloe and Rachel standing close enough to her that Rachel's body was giving off a bit of heat of its own. Then the moment solidified and the pain in her left arm returned, no longer as severe as she thought it had been but still unpleasant.
"Sure," Victoria declared in response to her invitation. Then the blonde started slightly as Max leaned into Rachel and reached across her own body to press her left arm against her, and try ot keep it still. For a second, Victoria actually looked as if she had read the pain on Max's face and was going to ask what was wrong, but then, reluctantly, she looked past Max and at Courtney as Taylor, too, agreed to meet up with them.
"You okay?" Rachel whispered.
"I'll talk to you soon," Victoria said as a sort of goodbye. Nathan had already emerged from the classroom as before. Now he walked away, seemingly unaware of them. Max turned and walked away without answering Rachel or Victoria even though all she wanted was to have Rachel and Chloe's arms around her in that moment. When she glanced back, Rachel and Chloe were following but looking expectantly at her. She waited once more for Nathan to be far out of earshot before she sagged against a wall.
"It's either all over or it's all finally starting," Max told them as she carefully removed her left arm from the inside of her sweatshirt and revealed it to Rachel and Chloe in the light. She caught sight of the skin as at least dark red but her shoulder and neck hurt when she turned her neck hard and far enough to get a good look at her own shoulder and arm. Judging by the sound of Chloe sucking breath in through her gritted teeth, it was probably bruising as she had suspected. Max, keeping an eye out for anyone who might come close enough to listen in, hid her arm and filled the girls in as well as she was capable. "I'm telling you, it read like he made a deal with the devil and I guess he sort of did." By this point, as uneasy as Chloe looked, Rachel's face was contorted as if she was holding something very bitter on her tongue.
"Do you at least feel better knowing?" Chloe asked her.
"I thought it would be a weight off my chest but instead I'm just kind of freaking out a bit. I'm giving myself the session tonight but after that it's game on," Max said. "I don't care what happens. Miss the Vortex Club, miss game sessions, flunk out of school, the only thing that matters is putting Nathan and Jefferson in their places." The disgusted look on Rachel's face did not disappear but Max still almost melted despite the pain when the blonde stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. Whatever else was going on, there was comfort to be found in the people she loved. At some point, Chloe and Rachel had gone from people she could always trust to people she couldn't live without, to people on the front lines with her, from those who always had her back to those standing by her side and it was this last realization that made Max grab back at Rachel as tightly as she could, that made her welcome the feeling of Chloe's hand rustling her hair in the way that usually pissed her off.
Unfortunately, she realized, putting all of her cards on the table in an effort to shut down Nathan Prescott and Mark Jefferson meant being willing to put all of her cards on the table.
"Max?" The questioning tone was almost soft enough that it pushed right past her without her really grasping hold of it. Slowly, though, the fact that Chloe had said her name pierced the whirlwind of thoughts still tearing her concentration to shreds. Guiltily, she looked up from the papers and dice in front of her to Chloe across the table. Pompidou still had his head resting in her lap as if confused as to why she had stopped petting him. What struck Max as strange as she glanced around Steph and Chloe's kitchen table was that she got the feeling that some time had passed since she was last tuned into her surroundings. The light coming in through the glass sliding doors seemed too low and the faces of those around her looked too concerned for a simple lapse in concentration. How long was I out of it? What was I even thinking about? There was so much happening up there in her mind that she thought she should have been able to pick out exactly what she was just thinking about but there was nothing.
Briefly, Max wondered if there was a chance that someone else had been in control of her, another Max. Maybe the one she had spoken to in Los Angeles. Almost as soon as she had the thought, she realized that that was wishful thinking. She wanted that Max to resurface, to come walking through Steph and Chloe's door, even then and there with Brooke sitting two chairs down from her. You want someone else to figure out what to do, because you don't know. You don't have a plan. You're pathetic, looking for someone to give this away to. It's not like that, it's on you. She shook her head.
"Max?" this time it was Rachel who spoke.
"Are we ready to start?" she asked them all at large, putting on a show of rubbing her hands together as if she was eager to begin. It did not work. At least two sets of narrowed eyes were watching her and even Brooke looked as if she thought Max was having some kind of breakdown. Maybe she's a little bit right, Max admitted as she reached for the dark brown bottle in front of her. The moment her right hand closed around it her earlier concerns about how long she might have been spacing out seemed confirmed. The beer was too warm by far. It was also her first of the night and she had not even finished it. That's fine, I guess, but it's a shame.
"Yeah," Chloe said, "we are, but if you're not up to it, we could wait for a bit and see if you feel like it in a few." Max didn't answer her. As soon as Max realized where Chloe was going with her response, she lifted the bottle to her mouth and drained it. That, however, seemed to be answer enough for Rachel who got to her feet. Very lightly pressing a hand under Max's arm, her sore one, Rachel motioned for Max to join her and for what it was worth, she did, leaving the empty bottle behind in front of her. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea. Maybe some fresh air," Chloe suggested.
"Totally," Rachel agreed. Max allowed herself to be led from the table toward the back door but she did spot, just briefly, a look of disappointment in Brooke's eyes. She wasn't sure entirely what it meant, but suspected it related to the eagerness she had been displaying all week for this week's session. Pompidou, apparently sensing that Rachel and Max were walking arm and arm for the back door, shot out from beneath the kitchen table through the gap left behind by Max and Rachel abandoning their chairs. Steph began to speak but it was not directed at either of them so Max focused more on letting Pompidou shoot past them out into the backyard before either of them followed.
Once the door was shut behind them, Max braced herself. She hoped she was bracing herself for a bit of excessive (or was it?) concern and not any frustration. Instead, Rachel looked sideways at her, then back to the shepherd-pit mix who had already hurled himself down into the grass and begun to roll about as if he had not been outside in years, and laughed. She wasn't sure when she joined in, but by the time Max had lowered herself to the step between the house and the backyard, she was laughing too. Maybe it was just stress messing with her head, but she embraced it. Had it been any other moment, with any other mood, she would have already been laughing at the look of poorly disguised disappointment on Brooke's face as she had realized that the game was not starting yet, anyway.
Max knew why the girl with the red-streaked black hair was so eager. Brooke's character, the party's bard, was also the party's only real source of Charisma and they were going, in character, into a situation where high Charisma rolls were likely to be helpful if not downright required. If their characters wanted to avoid upsetting the guard of the isolationist city-state they were going to meet, Brooke's bard was their best chance. I don't particularly fancy spending a session fighting my way back out of their land. Quickly as she sat and stared at the grass in front of her, Max's attention strayed from the game back to other things. With an apparent confirmation that Jefferson had taken notice of Nathan, she thought they had to decide very soon what exactly to do. Stella's still missing, she reminded herself. Every second Stella was gone the situation felt a little bit more desperate.
Perhaps seeing that fresh air and quiet were not working, Rachel quietly prompted her several minutes later to come back inside as it was 'getting a little cool out'. Max jumped at this, feeling guilty at the path of her thoughts. Given that there had never been any confirmation of Stella's presence in Bruss, a part of her was concerned as to whether Stella was actually alive or not. If Stella was gone and there was a chance Nathan was behind it, it wasn't impossible he had fucked up the dosage of whatever he gave her and killed her. Wasn't that what happened to Rachel in the other timeline? Nathan was clearly unstable and definitely no good at chemistry.
"Okay," Max told her Rachel, looking up into the girl's eyes. She felt a certain sense of desperation whose source she couldn't really place her finger on as the blonde reached down to help her up. She's taking care of me. They're taking care of me. I hate being useless. As soon as the back door shut behind her, Max rubbed her hands together. "Alright," she declared, trying to put more life into her voice than even she found realistic. "Let's do this."
When Max joined the table, Brooke was already rolling her D20 between her palms, absentmindedly, but she waved off Max's apology for spacing out. The rest of the table knew exactly what was on her mind and she could see the concern and confliction in each of their eyes. Max wasn't intent on being the reason they canceled the game, even if she was sure they would understand. From the pile of dice in front of her, she herself pulled out the bright blue D20 and set it aside. For some reason, as soon as her eyes had landed on it spilling from her dice bag, she had decided that she trusted it more than the other 20-sided-die she had.
She did not match eyes with most of the table but eventually Chloe begrudgingly began recounting the events of the last session. While she did so, Max lifted her head occasionally to indicate that she was listening, but had also taken to making notes on things she had forgotten on an old piece of scrap paper. Unfortunately, somewhere not long after Chloe started talking those notes changed from pieces of the last session she had forgotten to what they could do about Jefferson. One option that weighed on her mind was simply doing what Chloe suggested and doing whatever it took to get him fired. Victoria was really upset when I showed her that email with Jefferson's bullshit in it. Either way, Max felt lucky that she caught when Chloe's recap came to an end instead of simply sitting there lost in her thoughts, obviously not listening.
"When we left off you were about two hours' through the cavern from the Stygian border and about four hours from the mushroom farm you were supposed to meet at. All you really know is that the Kobolds' captain of the guard will be waiting for you."
"Yeah," Rachel muttered, "along with how many others though."
"Enough, probably," Steph replied as Max took the table in properly for the first time in a while. Brooke's eager smile had returned to her face.
To Max's credit, she thought, she managed to stay fairly focused from that point onward. As the session opened, her character and Rachel's both managed to pass a couple of perception checks and catch on that they were being pursued through the tunnels. While the characters discussed what to do and ate their rations, Max subsisted off of her second beer and the occasional pretzel. It looked like the majority of the night might be taken up by the trip and that idea became even more severe when Isp, Rachel's Fire Genasi, stumbled across a pair of young gnomish children while scouting a side tunnel. The NPCs seemed deliberately put there to slow the party down, Max thought, but did not reckon that her character would share that belief, ultimately. One of Andil's major personality aspects was his lack of belief in fate. Eventually, though, the night wore on long enough that Max's third beer demanded a bathroom break of her and it was during this bathroom break that Max landed on a potential cure for her issues focusing.
By that point, Max had returned to the kitchen and even let Pompidou back inside. The mutt couldn't quite decide who to go to for attention and more or less had his pick, so Max was not too disappointed when he ignored her in favor of Brooke. It made it easier for Max to sip at her fourth beer of the night and listen to the black haired girl as she went over her week at school. While Rachel and Chloe shared a smoke, Max and Steph listened and this was what brought Max to her decision. The overall theme of Brooke's week had been stress and worry and discomfort, ultimately culminating in having been eager for their weekly game.
"You know, I'm really sorry I slowed us down earlier," Max told her. "Out of character, I mean. I've been pretty bad about not being able to concentrate tonight."
"Don't worry about it. We're all worried about her," Brooke promised Max. That's true. Stella's absence was affecting just about anyone who counted her as a friend and even a few people who were not. Brooke had especially taken an interest in Stella this school year. "I wish I understood what happened." I could tell her what happened to me. I could make her understand that. Then I can tell her why I think it happened to Stella, too. Perhaps Steph saw the decision in Max's eyes as soon as Brooke voiced this desire and that was what caused the auburn haired artist's eyes to widen. Brooke, for her part, noticed the change in the air and looked between the two of them, her head turning from side to side rapidly. "Okay, what?"
"Um, one second," Max promised her. With that, she rose back to her feet, leaving the beer behind. She measured herself for any sign of being lightheaded and thought, as she crossed the kitchen and reached the back door, that there might be some. Max didn't bother to step out into the cool March afternoon. Once the door was open, she simply leaned out to look first to her left and then to her right, where she spotted Rachel and Chloe, arms around each other. "Hey, guys, are you okay to come in and uh, extend break a few minutes?" Please say yes.
"What's going on?" Chloe queried as she slowly unwrapped herself from Rachel. The act and the way Rachel clung to her anyway being as difficult as possible about the two of them splitting apart almost made Max grin.
"I think I'm gonna let Brooke in on some things." That was vague enough, but Max knew that she was very audible from the table. "Some things about me and Nathan." At this, Rachel, who had had her back to Max this whole time, released Chloe, who pulled an exasperated face and lowered her arms to her side. Rachel turned around pretty quickly once she was not holding onto Chloe, though. The thespian, grimacing, seemed to be looking her over for signs of distress. Either way, neither one argued and after a second of silence, there seemed to be understanding enough for Chloe to stomp her mostly finished cigarette into the mud.
As Max had expected, her every word rang out loud and clear for those at the table. Steph was a reminder that many people already knew about what she was about to tell Brooke. At least, part of it. That was why Max focused on the normally jovial artist giving her an encouraging smile as she sat down. It's been a good night for Steph, Max thought a bit inappropriately. RNGesus has been kind to her. Brooke on the other hand was now watching Max with her hands folded properly, almost primly in front of her and a no-nonsense, serious look on her face. Despite the fact that she knew Brooke, she couldn't help but develop a sudden concern about the girl's reaction. Something about Brooke's serious face made her think of another Max and another Brooke and the almost antagonistic relationship they had shared. Different people, different lives. Then, anew, came the concern of what would happen if what she was about to say got around to her parents.
Chloe and Rachel settled into their spots, though Rachel had to nudge her way in when Pompidou did not want to move from Steph's side. Max didn't fear what her parents might think of her if they found out what happened. What she was afraid of was that they wouldn't hold back if she begged them to. A few seconds ago she had been sure that explaining to Brooke a bit of what was actually happening at Blackwell was not only for the best but might actually help her think, help her mood improve. Now, with the idea of her mother and father finding out about one of the secrets she had been carrying for so long fresh in her head, she wasn't so sure. I'm not about to lose Blackwell just because of Nathan fucking Prescott.
The table was, rightfully, looking expectantly at her. When she opened her mouth to finally do as planned, though, nothing came out. In that moment she could not even fathom talking to say that she had changed her mind. Instinctively she decided to stall for time, reaching for the bottle nearest her with her left hand only to have the bottle immediately moved away from her by Rachel. Max looked askance at the blonde but was answered only by Rachel leaning forward to wrap one arm carefully around Max's right shoulder, not trying to hurt her left. This was both comfort and encouragement. It took several seconds of that hug for Max to realize that while she was having difficulty talking, she wasn't on the verge of any kind of breakdown. Still, there was a reason she had decided to talk to Brooke, one beyond just the fact that Brooke was concerned for Stella and might have an excuse to be even more concerned.
"Okay, this sounds shitty, but I thought I could and now I can't," Max finally said. Rachel released her, but did not look disappointed in her. On the contrary, the girl simply gripped Max's left knee with her right hand and squeezed softly, a reassuring gesture. Chloe's response was simply to nod in acknowledgment. Max knew Steph would understand, too, but it was Brooke's reaction which she kept an eye on.
"Is it about Stella at all?" Brooke asked. Sharp and to the point.
"Me, Stella, others," Max admitted. "I think I know what happened but I don't have any proof. I have no way to prove any of it, I don't even have a way to find out if I'm right and prove it to me. But there's more, stuff that I thought I'd gotten over but I guess I thought of it from a new angle and I can't really lose Blackwell right now." The words came out quickly, but there was something about the girl on Steph's other side that made Max spill more than she intended to. Probably has to do with her eyes. Brooke did sometimes look at people as if she thought she could see right through them to some version of them inside.
"What do you mean lose Blackwell?"
"I don't think I could stay at the school if this got around."
"And does it have anything to do with the rumors going around about Victoria and Nathan?" Max wasn't sure if it was her place to answer that. Instead she matched eyes with Brooke and indulged in that sense of being read. Max did not speak, did not nod or shake her head. I didn't know the rumors were so widespread already. Max also didn't know exactly what rumors they were, but there had been witnesses to her confronting Nathan as he tried to half-carry Victoria away from the school. With Blackwell being so small, there was a good chance Brooke had the measure of things. "You don't actually have to tell me anymore. I understand. It freaks me out about Stella a little more but I get it and I get why you wanted to tell me. Thank you."
Within a few minutes, the session was set to continue. Max did her best to focus but she just did not really feel like speaking so she allowed the other three players to dominate the situation and mostly just acknowledged her own character's cooperation until such time as they made contact with the Stygian guards. Even then, she did her best to let Brooke handle negotiations. She also, surprisingly, did not feel guilty either that she had wanted to tell Brooke the truth or that she had failed to do so. Instead, Brooke's gratefulness at the revelation simply reinforced the idea in Max's head that telling Brooke was the right idea. She deserved to know what might have happened to her friend.