Kate smiled at her friend as she opened the door:
"Hi, Max! Come in!"
Max hesitated on the threshold, as if some invisible force was compelling her not to cross it. She put one heavy foot ahead of another and crossed through to Kate's room. Immediately, she started trembling internally, plagued with an abject, visceral terror.
What the fuck is happening to me? This is just Kate's room!
Just Kate's room. A room filled with obscenities that disgusted her to her core. A statuette of an angel that seemed to her like it was dripping pus and leering at her with its disgustingly benevolent eyes. Flyers for her religious study group and charities, all bearing that hideous cross-shaped symbol. A grotesque book.
I look at this book and I feel like it's bound with human flesh or something! Snap out of it, Max, it's only her Bible!
And that necklace Kate is wearing… ugh! A rotting gut wrapped around her neck would be less disgusting than this thing!
This thing is her crucifix, Max! She's been wearing it since you've known her!
"Max?" Kate asked with concern. "Are you alright? You look nervous?"
The young vampire shook herself, and remembered an important lesson of her teacher. Vampire. Religious stuff. Of course. Nothing had changed with Kate, it was just herself who now had an instinctive dread and repulsion toward every religious symbol.
Dog it's not gonna be easy if I start shaking like a leaf everytime she comes near me! Gonna have to learn to get used to it…
"Nah, it's okay," she said. "Been working hard last night, not enough sleep. I'm surviving on coffee and nerves alone!"
Which was not true. On the contrary, Max had enjoyed an incredibly good, relaxing – though a tad too short - sleep in her new coffin, her belly full of sweet clubber blood. Lacroix was right, convincing people to go to the bathroom with her so she could bite them was a lot of fun, and who would've thought you slept so well in a coffin?
"I have just what you need for that," Kate said with her sweet smile. "Chamomile. Here, just let me…"
She turned on her electric kettle and began preparing two mugs. The sky was cloudy, and the room was dark enough for Max to remove her shades, out of respect for her friend. "I just hope Monsieur Lacroix isn't pushing you too hard," Kate added. "It's great that he chose you as his assistant, but you still need to take care of yourself."
"Thanks, Mom," Max replied with a smirk, but the joke was lost on the Christian girl who looked sullen all of a sudden.
There's something troubling her, I know that. She smiles and pretends it's all fine and dandy, but I can smell her stress. I feel like we're soon gonna talk about yesterday morning. Well, I can't dodge this conversation forever, can I?
I just wish we could talk about this somewhere else. In my room, for example, where I won't be surrounded by these horrible things. Take a breath, Max, and try to focus on something else. Focus on Kate. Kate is my friend, my best friend here, she's so pretty and sweet and friendly, and I can hear her blood flow in her veins from here, I can see her carotid pulse, I bet she's delicious I'm so hungry right now and shit my teeth are coming out pull them back pull them back!
Max clenched a fist so tight her nails started digging into her palm, and the pain helped her regain control. Oblivious, Kate put the tea and some cookies on a tray which she put on the stool she used as a coffee table, and the two girls sat on her couch.
"Do you want a cookie?" Kate offered. "I bought them in that new bakery in town, they're delicious!"
"Oh, thanks but… I'm not very hungry right now."
"Oh, okay," Kate just replied, looking hurt.
Sorry Kate, but I'd really, really love to have a cookie if I could. I never thought it would be so hard not to eat! Should've seen that coming: when people invite you, they offer food, and if you don't eat, they think you're rejecting them or you're sick. Better come up with something…
"I'm trying to go vegan!" she declared.
And the record for World's Lamest Excuse goes to…
"Vegan?" Kate asked, her eyes growing wide with disbelief. "Is this a new… thing?"
"Uh, yeah, I'm kind of… experimenting lifestyles…"
"I could see that…"
Was that sarcasm? Kate Marsh being sarcastic? Oh man, she must really have a lot on her plate…
Max cleared her throat: "Hum, Kate, about yesterday… I'm sorry I ran off when I saw you, it sucks. It really does. But I was… surprised…"
Kate shrugged and smiled faintly: "I was kind of surprised myself, believe me. I knew Victoria had a… guest, that night, I mean I couldn't not hear her, but I put on my headphones and tried to sleep… I didn't know the guest was you and I would have never imagined that…"
"Well, then… surprise!" Max said, trying to sound theatrical and comical but failing miserably.
"So you're gay?" Kate asked.
"Yeah…"
"How long?"
"What do you mean?"
"How long have you known?"
"Are you sure you're comfortable talking about it?"
"Max, you're my friend, aren't you? Of course I want to know about what's going on in your life."
"Okay… well, I've never had a crush on a boy in the first place. Like, never ever. And since I moved in here, I, uh… I realized I liked to stare at girls… like, their legs, for example."
"And Victoria sure has endless legs."
"She does, yes. But, not you, Kate. I promise I never stared at you."
"Why?" Kate asked with a chuckle. "You think I'm not pretty enough?"
"Kate, you are pretty. You are beautiful in fact, everything about you is beautiful, you're an angel!"
"Thanks," the girl muttered, blushing a bit.
"But you're my friend, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, you see?"
"I see…"
Then, she turned her attention back to her cup of tea, toying with her spoon, looking sullen again. Max started to get really worried:
"Kate, I hope you don't mind? Are we still friends?"
In an attitude that was pretty much unlike her, the Christian girl put down her cup, closed her eyes and sighed and muttered an exasperated: "Jesus, Max…"
Then she turned back to face her friend, hurt visible in her eyes: "Of course we are still friends! I don't care if you're into girls, you're a wonderful person and you've always been such a sweet friend to me, I'll never judge you or let you down because of… look, I know I'm a Christian, I know I'm abstinent, that's my choice, that's the way I see things. But that doesn't make me a nun or a Westboro girl! I'm a teenager in 2013, I like fantasy stories, and Tim Burton movies, and I've read all the Harry Potter books, and I play the violin but still I like to listen to Katy Perry. And I'm aware that not everyone is straight and I'm okay with that! How could I not be, aren't Jesus's teaching all about love? So why would I be offended by types of love that are different than mine?"
She took a pause to swallow back a ball of tears that had formed in her throat. "But I'm hurt, Max. I'm hurt because when we slept together, after that bad dream of yours, we talked about our love lives and you didn't tell me anything. You could have, and I would've accepted it, and I would've thanked you for sharing this with me, but you didn't. And I'm hurt that you ran away when I saw you leave Vicky's room. You know, I'm aware that some people call me names, around here. I know to some people, just because you're religious and abstinent they believe you're a Bible-thumping homophobe, and I feel like this is how you really see me and that's why you don't trust me, and it makes me feel horrible!"
She broke down sobbing, leaving a shocked and heartbroken Max to process all of this.
"Dog," she said, "Kate, I… that was never my intent! But… yes, I guess you're right, if I'm really honest with myself, I didn't trust you. But not because I believed you were a horrible person, I'd never think that of you. You are the sweetest, most caring person I've ever met, and I'll always be proud to call you my friend, Kate. But I wanted to protect our friendship. I thought, when we were in bed together, what if I told you and suddenly you felt uncomfortable sharing a bed with me? We never talked about that before, I didn't know how you would take it and I didn't want to put you in an awkward position. That's lame, I know. And running away from you, yesterday, that was even more lame. I have no excuse for that, I just… panicked. Really, it's not about you, it's about me. I'm changing, you know, I'm discovering the kind of person I really am, and in a way it's very exciting, but in another… well, it's hella scary! I'm feeling lost and confused, there's so much stuff happening to me, and I run away from you because I'm too chickenshit to face your judgment!"
"But I would never judge you!"
"I know! I told you, this isn't about you, this is just me always thinking I'll mess up and people will judge me… I suck as a friend."
She put her hands around the head of her sobbing friend and gently dragged her closer, until their foreheads touched, and continued: "I'm so, so sorry I hurt you when all I wanted was not to hurt you. You're a saint for putting up with such a lousy friend as I am…"
Kate chuckled through her tears: "Quit saying that! I'm not a saint, and you're not a lousy friend, you're just… well, you're you. Clumsy Max all the way."
Max laughed in return: "You got that right!"
"So… can you make me a promise, Max?"
"Sure, anything."
"In the future… promise you will never hesitate if you have something to tell me? Anything? Promise you'll keep in mind that I will never judge you, or reject you?"
"I promise."
Liar. You filthy liar! Do you really mean it? Go on, then, tell her you're a vampire! Tell her you became an ungodly creature on purpose, just so you could bring back your best friend, destiny be damned! Let's see how she feels now that her best friend is a living insult to the God she believes in!
Max shut her eyes and forced herself to quell this stream of self-destructive thoughts.
I am a vampire but that doesn't make me a demon or a monster. I am changing, but I am still the same, deep inside. I drink blood and don't age, but I am still human. I lie to my friends because I have to. Because I'm not ready yet. I know I'll probably have to tell them one day, and I will. When I'm ready to say it, and when they're ready to hear it.
"I promise," she repeated.
Kate nodded, satisfied, and broke contact to wipe her tears and take a sip of tea.
"So what's going to happen with Vic, now?" she asked.
Max let out an embarrassed giggle: "I… don't know. I'd like us to date, and I think she'd like it too. We're making plans for a movie night together."
Kate beamed with delight: "That would be lovely! You two would be so cute together. Since yesterday you two have been extra polite with each other and jumped out of your skins everytime you brushed a little too close, and it's so adorable… and hilarious!"
"Hey, are you really gonna watch us from now on, take note of everything we do so you can make fun of us?"
"Mmmh, I might. If it works and you're in a real relationship, you'll become my pet couple."
She laughed at Max's face, then suddenly got serious again: "But… can I be honest with you?"
"Of course!"
At that moment, the clouds receded outside, and a beam of Golden Hour sunlight invaded the room, prompting Max to hastily put her glasses on with a hiss of discomfort.
"Your eyes still hurt?" Kate asked with concern.
"A bit, yeah, but I'm okay, don't worry… hey? Kate?"
The Christian girl had suddenly frozen, staring wide-eyed at a part of the couch behind Max as if a very big and ugly spider had suddenly appeared, only there was nothing of the sort.
"Huh?" she suddenly asked, snapping out of it. "You were saying?"
"Wowser," Max chuckled, "you were, like, a million miles away for a sec! You had something to tell me?"
"Yes. Yes, uh… I'm a bit worried too… about you…"
"Worried about me? Why?"
"Well, I've heard of your drinking exploits, of course. It was sweet that you did this for Dana, but still… the Max I used to know never drank alcohol. And there's your new look, which is great, mind you, I like it, but it's so different. You look so much more confident now. But… Victoria's a lot nicer than she used to be, and now that I get to see her real personality I'm convinced she's a good person at heart, but she's still Victoria, you know? Wild, hard-partying, no limits kind of girl. I'm just-"
"Afraid she's gonna rub off on me and turn me into a Vortex Club bitch?"
"That's… not exactly the word I was going to use, but… yes, I'm afraid you'll become a very different person than the Max I used to know."
"I understand, I feel kind of lost myself, as I told you. But I promise, no matter how much I seem to change, I'll always be good old Max inside. The Max who makes lame jokes and obscure movie references, who can't help but take pictures of everything that moves with her lousy Polaroid, who likes to have tea with her best friend… I'll always be there."
"And promise you'll never do anything stupid and dangerous?"
"You mean like drinking a whole bottle of tequila just to humiliate a jock? Yeah, I think I'm gonna try gasoline next time."
She said that with a cheeky grin that made Kate giggle and playfully shove her: "You are the worst, Max Caulfield!"
Kate's phone buzzed, interrupting them. All colors faded from the Christian girl's face when she saw the caller's name.
"It's my mom," she whispered with dread.
Dang, her mom must be the real bitch for her to be so scared of her!
Max listened. Thanks to her super-hearing, she was able to hear the whole conversation:
"Hi, mom!"
"Hi Katie sweetie, have you made your decision?"
Not even a "how are you"? Come on…
"Not yet," Kate sighed. "Mom, I don't think withdrawing my complaint is the best thing to do, really."
"Katie, honey, be reasonable. These lawyers were right, you have no proof that it was this Nathan Prescott boy who drugged you. After all, you've been drinking that night…"
"One glass, I told you already, mom! I had one glass of wine, hardly more than I drink at church!"
"Do not yell at me, Katie! Honour thy father and thy mother!"
"Yes, you're right," Kate whispered pathetically, deflating like a balloon. "I'm sorry, Mom."
Fuck this, where in the Bible does it say "thou shalt torment thy daughter and use Bible quotes to keep her from defending herself"?
Max breathed in deep, trying to contain the seething rage flowing in her veins like hot lava. Her hands, clasped around her cup, started trembling.
"Good. Now, Katie, you have to think about your family and your church. Don't you think our reputation has been tarnished enough as it is? Do you really want the whole state, or worse, the whole country, to see that despicable video of you whoring yourself to those boys?"
"Whoring myself?" Kate cried out, her body startling as if she had been punched to the stomach. "How can you say that, mom? I was drugged!"
"Sweetie, I told you not to yell at your mother!"
"But you're not listening to me!" Kate started crying again, her voice getting higher and her sobs messier as her despair grew. "You keep talking about how you feel about that, but you never asked me how I feel! I've been drugged, mom! I've been tricked into drinking a poisoned cup by a boy who was nice to me. He was a classmate, how could I possibly even imagine what he really wanted to do? It's true I kissed those boys then, but I was out of my mind, this wasn't me doing this but the drugs! And then, do you know what happened? I was dragged to an underground bunker so my teacher, my own photography teacher whom I admired and trusted, could take pictures of me, tied up and unconscious, like a dirty magazine model! And I woke up the morning after on my doorstep without any memory of it, only with the feeling, deep in my gut, that something was wrong. Do you have any idea how it feels? To wake up feeling dirty and not knowing why? And I still don't know what really happened! After all, who knows what they did to me, in-between pictures, that they didn't confess? Maybe they… touched me, while I was unconscious, while I couldn't defend myself, and there is no way I can know! Do you have any idea how… disgusted with my own body I am, how violated I feel? I have nightmares, mom, nightmares of them coming to my room, doing… things to me, and I can't move, can't even wake up!"
Max forgot how to breathe. She never told me about those nightmares!
Her blood boiled, a crimson mist veiled her vision. A sudden hunger for blood. For Nathan's blood, for Jeffershit's blood, for Kate's mom's blood, for the blood of all those assholes who would even think of hurting her sweet angel friend again.
Kate broke down weeping now, and her mother took this opportunity to speak: "Katie, I can imagine you feel dirty after the way you behaved, but none of this would've happened if you hadn't gone to that party in the first place. And you did go on your own accord, didn't you? Nobody forced you, did they? Those boys wouldn't have taken advantage of you if you had remained on the righteous path."
"I was righteous, mom!" the girl shrieked in pain. "I'm in the Bible study group, I promote abstinence, I never wear cleavages or mini-skirts, I have never done anything to make a boy believe… I'm innocent, mom. Please, please believe me. I need you to believe me. I can't face this without you!"
Kate's mom sighed: "Fine. If what you are saying is true, then it means the corrupting power of this school is too great. I feared this might happen, and we have discussed this possibility with your father, and I think it is now time to consider removing you from Blackwell and putting you in a more appropriate school closer to home."
All of a sudden, Kate stopped crying. And breathing. "What?" she asked, her voice now reduced to a strangled squeal. "Mom, you… you can't do this! I have friends, here! Friends who love and support me…"
"And who allowed this to happen, some friends they are!"
"It's not their fault…"
"Katie, honey, there is no need to discuss this now. As soon as we find you a more suitable school, we will remove you from this cesspit of sin and it's final."
Kate wanted to reply something, anything to plead her mom to stay, when the high-pitched clatter of burst porcelain startled her. Max heard it too, and felt warm liquid on her hands right after. She looked down: in her anger, she had squeezed her cup so tight she'd broken it. Now this was the last straw. She couldn't go on like this any longer, watch her friend get bullied by her monster of a mother without saying anything.
"Gimme that," she snapped, reaching out to snatch Kate's phone from her hand, ignoring her protest. "Hello? This is Max, Kate's friend."
"Why, alright, Max, but how dare you-"
"Just shut up and listen! Let me tell you a little story about myself: three weeks ago, my best friend got murdered right before my eyes. This shook me to the core, destroyed me in a way you can't possibly imagine. A week after that, I actually tried to kill myself."
"I don't see how this-"
"And you know who talked me out of this? Kate! I'd be dead if it wasn't for her. And I'm not the only one she's helping around here. We have another friend who's going through a very bad time, and Kate took the time to take her to confession, and comfort her, even though she's already got a lot on her mind because of those Nathan and Jeffershit motherfuckers! She even found the strength in herself to forgive the girls who bullied her and posted that video, and these girls are now her friends. This is who your daughter really is, Mrs Marsh. She's an angel, a saint, and as her friend I'm busting my ass trying to give her the support she needs and she can't get from you. And I'm so fucking tired of trying to keep her head out of the water when you are constantly pushing her further down! So you listen to me cause I'm gonna say it only once: Kate is staying at Blackwell, where her friends are, where she can find the love and support you ice-cold bigoted bitch can't give her, and if you want to take her away, that will be over my dead! Fucking! BODY!"
She uttered that last word in an inhuman, primal roar, and immediately after, a bolt of lightning and a deafening clatter of thunder outside made the two girls jump. They looked at each other. Kate was pale as death, her eyes bulging with dread and outrage.
"Max!" she yelled as she promptly snatched back her phone. "What is wrong with you?"
"What do you mean?" Max asked, stunned. "I just took your defense…"
"By yelling at my mom and insulting her? How dare you!"
"C'mon, she was being a bitch to you!"
"Don't say that word! And even if she's not nice, you have no right to speak to her like that, she's my mom! Oh my God, what am I gonna do now? No way she'll let that slide, now she'll never leave me alone! Max, what's the hell is happening to you? You just said you would always be the same good old Max, but the Max I knew would never have done this!"
After the initial bafflement at Kate's reaction, Max felt the hot lava flow in her veins again. The crimson rage boiling. She lashed out:
"How about 'thank you for defending me from bullies again, Max'? You're welcome! I can't believe this, when will you finally stop being such a fucking doormat?"
Kate froze, her knees suddenly going weak. With a trembling mouth, she stammered pitifully: "Y-y-you didn't just say that, did you?"
"Tell you something, Kate: the old Max wouldn't have done this, you're right. The old Max would've cried with you, and then spent the whole night moping about how unfair the world is to us, and then when we finally got just a little bit better, another shitload of fucks would fall on us and we'd do it all over again! You know what, I'm tired of this! Life's been throwing shit at us for too long, and I've finally figured something out: when life throws shit at you, you can just sit in it and moan and pray it gets better eventually, or you can start throwing shit back!"
Furiously, she opened the door, walked out to the hallway, then turned around and added: "I made my choice! Make yours!"
And she slammed the door shut so hard the noise resonated throughout the place.
The next half-hour passed in a fiery haze for Max. Still blinded by wrath, she was vaguely conscious of getting inside her truck and driving like a maniac around town, oblivious to the outraged honks and the harsh rain around her.
Eventually she drove all the way to the middle of the junkyard, where she got off the truck and strode to a battered, rusty sedan. Without thinking, she rammed her fist into a door, making a deep dent into it. Satisfied, she looked at a fender next, and imagined Jeffershit's face on it.
This is for Kate.
And she punched it beyond recognition. The other fender. She pictured Logan's face.
This is for Dana.
And she ravaged it. She looked at the hood, seeing Nathan's face.
This is for Chloe.
And she raised her arm high and slammed it down like a hammer, causing the hood to fold up on itself.
She kept punching and kicking, lashing out at this car, releasing weeks of pent-up anger and frustration, at those pigs for making her and her friends' lives miserable, at Sean Prescott for being so fucking rich he'd most likely help his fucked-up son get away with it, at Arcadia Bay for being such a shit town under the Prescotts' rule, at God for allowing all of this to happen. She kept punching until her fists hurt, and then she looked up to the black sky and yelled her heart out, and with an ear-splitting bang a bolt of thunder came crashing down on the ground, barely a few feet from her.
Startled, Max calmed down immediately and walked to the smoking, burnt patch of soil.
The fuck just happened?
And just as her emotions settled, the rain stopped. The girl sighed deeply, suddenly feeling emotionally drained. She took a glance at the sedan she'd used as her punching bag.
Barely looks like a car anymore. Barely looks like… anything, really. Wowser, what was that? I was so mad, I've never felt anything like this before! I guess I've been bottling up a lot since Chloe died, and I had to let it out. After what happened to her, me, Dana…
Kate!
Yup, really fucked up big time here, Max.
Dammit, I was so out of control, this wasn't me! I'll have to make it up to her. I didn't want to hurt her, just wanted to help her! I'm such a fucking useless… nincompoop!
Nincompoop? Really?
What's wrong, Inner Max? Have anything better to suggest?
Yeah, why don't you stop berating yourself and actually call her, try to fix this? And make sure it never happens again, control your emotions for fuck's sake!
She looked around. Night had fallen. Yeah, she would do that, try to make it right. But before, she had to go to the lair and dry herself up. Chloe was gonna wake up really soon.
"Fuck me with gravel and barbed wire!" Brooke groaned in front of her laptop.
"Uh, okay," Warren answered, hesitantly, standing on her doorstep. "Didn't know you were into that kind of stuff, but why not?"
Brooke chuckled and threw a pillow at him, which he intercepted and threw back at her playfully.
"I wasn't talking to you, you idiot!" she said. "Come, and close the door."
The boy obliged, then put his bag down on her bed and sat next to her to look at her screen.
"So what's going on to make you so mad?" he asked.
Apart from the fact that you're sitting right next to me and still you don't kiss me? She thought, but shook herself and directed her focus back on the matter at hand.
"I just don't know what to make of my drone's images," she said.
"Is it glitching again?"
"It's not glitching, Warren. After the images I got yesterday, I double-checked everything, hardware and software. There's no glitch, yet I get the same results. Look."
She showed him a video of the fountain. "This," she said as she pointed to a spot near the main building entrance, "is where Lacroix was standing."
"I don't see anything."
"Exactly! I know he was there, I saw him with my own eyes, yet he does not show on camera!"
"But it doesn't make any sense!"
"Like hell it doesn't! And I tried again, there's tons of videos like that, everytime he doesn't show when I know he was there. And look at this one."
She showed him a video of the art room, shot through the large windows from a distance. "Here," she explained, "he's chatting with Max."
"But I don't see Max either," Warren said, increasingly confused.
"That's right," Brooke answered while turning to smirk at him. "Max doesn't appear either. So I thought, 'what if I try to take a picture of Max?' And guess what?"
She showed him different pictures of different parts of campus, all taken from above. Warren could see faces he recognized. But no Max. Never Maxine. A cold chill ran down his spine.
"What the hell is going on?" he muttered.
"I don't know. How could they not appear on camera?"
"Well, it's quite possible to edit yourself out of a video. You think he could've hacked into your drone to do it?"
She shook her head: "I checked my software, I checked the metadata of all my videos and pictures, there's absolutely no sign of tampering. And even if he did hack my drone, how could he do this in real time? That's impossible."
"Unless he has some sort of shielding device," Warren retorted. "A tool that detects the presence of cameras and hacks into them to edit him out."
"Warren, nobody owns that kind of tech, it's science fiction stuff!"
"I know, but can you come up with a better explanation?"
Brooke sighed, exasperated. "No. Okay, for the sake of argument, let's say he owns some super tech like this. First question will be: why? If that kind of gizmo exists, it's surely some top secret government stuff, yet he's a photography teacher in a small Oregon town.
"What if he's working for the French government or something?"
Brooke shook her heard again: "We're not at war with the frogs, not that I know at least, and if he is a foreign spy, what the fuck is he doing in Arcadia Bay? There's some fucked-up shit going on around town, but top secret government projects? Not likely. But let's say he is, then the question would be, what exactly is his mission? And why did he give one of those anti-camera devices to Max? Did he recruit her? Why her? What did you dig up on him?"
"Oh, wait," the boy said as he reached for his bag. "There it is."
He opened his bag and produced a stack of papers which he detailed to Brooke: "He looks legit. He has a Facebook and an Instagram account, he's cited in several arts magazines, and he even has his own website and Wikipedia page. Sébastien Lacroix was born in France, his bio doesn't say where exactly, and he moved to the US about ten years ago where he became instantly successful as a photographer. He claims to have been the apprentice of one Claude Doumergue, a French photographer specializing in daguerreotype portraiture, who became famous for his portraits of stars in the 1980s and 90s. Here's some info of that Doumergue guy here, it checks out. Lacroix's been living in San Francisco until he moved to Arcadia Bay last month to take the teaching position. Here's the Facebook post where he announces he's now teaching at Blackwell."
"Mmh, it looks like he always uses the exact same profile picture. Not much of a selfie guy, is he?"
"Yeah, lots of people say that's one of his quirks, he hates to be photographed himself. He always says he's the man behind the camera, not in front of it. So the only known picture of him is his ID picture. Other than that, I checked the license plate of his car, and it's registered in his name. It all looks legit."
"Too legit to be honest," Brooke mused as she stood up and moved to a large wooden board she'd nailed on a wall.
On it, she had already tacked a picture of Max. For a few minutes, she fiddled with the papers, tacking them on in clusters, then linking the clusters to one another with thread, then writing things on more pieces of paper which she tacked on. Then she stepped back to review her work. There was a picture of Lacroix tacked on next to a fact sheet that read:
Lacroix
Smug frogface
Photography teacher
I don't trust this guy
There was a thread linking his picture to a cluster of printouts from his website and social media pages with the mention: Looks legit.
Another thread linked his picture to Max's picture, which also had a fact sheet that read:
Max
Lacroix's assistant (officially)
Had it rough lately
Turned from shy hipster to apathetic badass punk (drugs?)
Affair with Victoria
The thread linking the two pictures also bore its own note that read: Third dose? Of what?
And finally, each picture had a thread leading to another note that read: Invisible on camera. Secret tech?
Brooke sighed in frustration: "Here's what we know so far… it doesn't make any fucking sense…"
"Wait," Warren muttered, eyes fixed on the board.
"Have an idea?"
"Maybe… what if…"
He stepped up, scribbled a note and tacked it on the board, using thread to link it with the Third dose and the Invisible on camera notes. This new note read: An experimental drug that makes one invisible on camera?
"Right," Brooke scoffed, "and how is it supposed to work, exactly?"
"I dunno… just thought there could be a link, but it still doesn't make sense…"
Brooke sighed and stepped close to her boyfriend, resting her head on his shoulder. To her greatest delight, he instinctively wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
"I swear this is gonna make me crazy," she moaned.
"Don't say that," Warren said, turning his head so their eyes met. "We just need more pieces, but with our two huge brains, there's not a puzzle we can't solve."
"You're goddamn right," she replied with a chuckle, her mood lightening up. "Warren and Brooke, Crimebusters Extraordinaire…"
Only then did she realize how close their faces were, their noses almost touching. Time seemed to freeze as she looked him in the eyes and bit her lip softly. He looked her in the eyes and smiled. They started drawing a little closer, their lips-
A bolt of lightning, immediately followed by a deafening clatter, made them jump and turn toward the windows.
"Fuck, that one was real close!" the girl gasped as she stared at the outside, where a heavy rain started pouring.
Shortly after, they heard a female voice coming from the hallway, yelling angrily: "I made my choice! Make yours!" followed by the loud bang of a slammed door and the heavy thuds of furious footsteps storming off.
"The hell was that?" Warren asked, turning to his equally stunned girlfriend. "Was that… Max's voice?"
Brooke shrugged in a sign of confusion. Shortly after, they heard more sounds of doors opening and closing, and loud sobs coming from… Victoria's room?
"Maybe we should-" Warren started, but he was interrupted by the buzz of his phone. A text:
Victoria Chase: my room. Now.
"Well," he said, raising his eyebrows in surprise, "it looks like I'm being summoned."
"Better not keep the Queen waiting, then," Brooke scoffed.
"You coming?"
"In Her Majesty's chamber? Fuck no, I'm waiting here."
So Warren went alone, and upon entering was treated to a most confusing scene: Victoria sitting cross-legged on her bed, cradling Kate who was crying her heart out in her shoulder, while Taylor sat next to her looking like she wanted to do something but didn't know what, and Courtney sat on the couch, scrolling on her phone, looking utterly bored. The boy took a moment to appreciate the strangeness of the situation: Warren and Kate, two of Blackwell's "losers", now admitted into the lair of the Three Bitches. If he had been told, a month ago, that this would happen, he would not have believed it.
"So, uh, what's going on?" he asked, standing there, nervous.
Victoria sighed and replied, sounding pretty pissed: "Max lashed out at Kate, here's what's going on."
So that was her he heard yell and storm off. But still, it was hard to believe…
"She what?"
"Yes, you heard that right, she yelled at Kate. Max. Yell."
"Wait, how did this happen exactly?"
Kate sniffled and looked up, struggling to explain: "She… my mom called, and she, like, snapped, yelled at her and insulted her."
Victoria couldn't contain a chortle. "Well, this I can get behind," she said. "From what you told us about your mom, she sounds like a worse bully than I was."
"It's not a reason!" Kate retorted. "She's still my mom, and she had no right to do that!"
"Okay," Warren said, "and what happened next?"
"I called her out on it," Kate said, "and then she lashed out at me. She called me a doormat, said she was tired of having to comfort me all the time because I didn't have the guts to fight back. It was so horrible, I've never seen her this mean before!"
Warren couldn't say anything, as the shock left him standing with his mouth open like an idiot. It was Taylor who spoke for him: "I can hardly believe it. Max, she's so sweet and kind usually, what the hell happened?"
"I don't know," Victoria replied, "and that's why I called you, Warren. Obviously, we've all seen how much she's changed in the past few days. Her looks, but also her attitude, what with Logan, and with…"
She paused, blushed to a nice crimson shade, then shook off these thoughts and resumed: "Anyway, she's much more self-assured and cheeky than before, and while I gotta admit it's pretty fun to see Max have some bite, this is going too far. And I can't remember seeing her eat even a cookie in days. Something's off with her, so Warren, since you've been friends with her for longer than I, have you noticed… anything?"
The boy cocked an eyebrow: "What do you mean?"
"Like… have you seen her do drugs or something like that?"
"Are we really gonna spend all our time dealing with your girlfriend's drama, Vicky?" Courtney spoke for the first time, sounding absolutely jaded. This earned her a dark glare from Victoria and Taylor which she didn't even see because she didn't lift her eyes off her phone.
"Well," Warren said before this could escalate into a fight, "now that you mention it, I…"
Suddenly his phone buzzed, and as a reflex, he took it off to read the message:
Brooke Scott: shut up & meet me outside
"You were saying?" Victoria asked.
"Hum, yeah, I was saying, uh… no, nothing about drugs and I don't think that's her type really. Listen, I'm gonna call her, try to sort this out, but don't worry Kate, I'm sure she just got stressed out or something and snapped, but she'll come back and apologize. It's gonna be fine."
On these words, he bid goodbye to the girls and returned to the hallway, where he saw his girlfriend leaning against the wall by the door, playing with her phone.
"So Max-" he began, but she interrupted him:
"I heard."
Then she moved to lean on the opposite wall, next to Max's door, and with a quick nod, invited him to join her.
"Speak soft," she muttered in a conspiratory tone. "Don't want them to hear us."
"Why?" he asked. "Why did you text me to shut up?"
"You were about to tell them about our investigation, and I don't want to get them involved."
"Why not? They're her friends, they could give us a hand."
Brooke shook her head: "Kate's in a bad enough shape as it is, I don't want to tell her anything until we have solid proof of what's going on. Otherwise we'd only make her worry more. As for Victoria, I really don't want to have to put up with Her Highness, she would only slow us down and piss me off!"
"Kay… so what do we do now?"
Brooke looked up at him and smirked: "Well, now we know Max isn't in her room, right? How about we look for more pieces to our puzzle?"
"Search her room? C'mon, I'm sure it's locked-"
He shut up when she searched in her sweater pocket and produced a chrome device that looked like a crossover between a syringe and an electronic cigarette.
"The fuck is that?" he asked.
"Electronic lockpick," she announced proudly. "That door doesn't stand a chance."
"Wait, why do you have a lockpick?"
She shrugged: "I like gadgets. Now, we go in?"
The boy stood on watch while his girlfriend made quick work of the lock, and soon they were inside their friend's room.
"Close the door!" Brooke ordered.
"Okay, so what are we looking for?"
"Anything out of the ordinary, I guess."
They began their search, Brooke inspecting her closet while Warren started to wander by the desk.
"Oh shit, Lisa!"
"Who's Lisa?" Brooke asked.
"Her plant. Yeah, she gave it a name, she loves this plant. But poor girl looks like she hasn't been watered in a while…"
He went for the bottle next to the plant and watered it, then turned toward her laptop. Time for some cyber-investigation…
He was busy reviewing her browsing history when Brooke joined him.
"Find anything?" he asked.
"Nope. You?"
"Well, it looks like she's been doing a lot of research on the occult lately. Black magic, necromancy, voodoo, vampire myths…"
"Max has an interest in the occult? Now that could explain the leather jacket, is she becoming a goth?"
"I dunno, but she's been interested in vampires for a little while. She said she'd become curious after hearing me talk about the Hammer marathon and asked me to give her a list of the best vampire movies."
"Oh, and what was on that list?"
"The classics of course, Coppola's Dracula, John Carpenter's Vampires, From Dusk Till Dawn, Fright Night, The Lost Boys…"
"I hope you mentioned 30 Days Of Night?"
"Who do you think I am, of course I did!"
"Let Me In?"
"Check."
"Near Dark?"
"Check."
"Only Lovers Left Alive?"
"Uh… nope, don't know this one."
Brooke sighed heavily and reached out her hand in front of him, in expectation.
"What?" Warren asked.
"Your geek card. Give it back."
"Oh, c'mon Bee! That's not fair, even I can't know every movie ever made!"
"Okay, but you owe me a movie night. We need to fill that gap in your movie culture asap. Now, what else is there, apart from Max apparently turning into a goth stereotype?"
"Nothing much. Photography stuff, she visited Lacroix's website often. Emails to her parents… nothing extraordinary."
Brooke stepped back and started pacing along the room, pondering. "Now, it looks like whatever she's hiding, we're not gonna find it in her room. Maybe we should try following her? How about stealing her phone and putting a tracker on it? This could be done. Or, we could sneak in Wells's office to take a look at Lacroix's teacher record, maybe there's some interesting info in it? Something that could give us direction? Of course we could also sneak in Lacroix's home, but only as a last resort cause it's dangerous as fuck, we don't know what or who he's hiding in it. Wait!"
Warren spun on the chair to look at his girlfriend, who was now standing pale, staring at the wall next to Max's bed. She pointed a finger at it and muttered: "What the fuck is that?"
Perplexed, the boy stood up and joined her to look at it. The wall was covered with Polaroids. The famous Max Caulfield Photo Memorial, displaying all her favorite pictures, which she would change depending on her mood and interests. Lately, it had been filled with pictures of herself and Chloe, back when they were kids and the blue-haired punk was a blonde tomboy. Pictures of them dressed as pirates, playing, sharing an ice-cream cone at a fair, having a picnic with their parents… pictures of better times. On the white strip below these pictures, Max had scribbled notes with a marker:
Fun times!
I miss my Captain so much!
Best friends forever
Partners in time
But what had startled Brooke and was now confusing Warren was that a good chunk of these pictures shared the same note, the same four letters, scribbled alongside different, and so it seemed, increasingly happy smiley faces:
SOON