"Max!" Monsieur Lacroix exclaimed cheerfully as he opened the door. "I have been waiting for you! Come in! And you must be Mademoiselle Price? It is a real pleasure to meet you!"
Then he took Chloe's hand and gently brought it up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles, which made her swoon:
"Ooh, Mademoiselle? I've never been called like that before, makes me feel like a real Parisian lady. Like I'm having champagne and foie gras with Coco Chanel."
Max shot her a glare, thinking about how difficult this evening would be if Chloe started cracking French jokes even before they were in, but Monsieur Lacroix took it well and laughed heartily as he led the two of them to the living room.
Chloe considered her friend's teacher with interest and… yeah, with disappointment. Somehow, she'd expected a 200-year-old vampire to look… well, more vampirey. Like, wearing a black and red cape, having a menacing Eastern-European accent, or at least having long hair and a goatee. Instead, that dude looked like a forty-something dandy, kinda good-looking but very plain. And that accent? Not menacing at all, on the contrary it was ridiculous. Like, do all French people pronounce their Rs like they have throat cancer?
As she walked in the living room, the young punk inspected the furniture.
"Do you really live in that?" she asked.
"Of course," he said. "What is wrong with my interior?"
Chloe shrugged: "It just looks so… old! Like, older than my grandma's place!"
He snickered: "Ma chère, people tend to prefer interiors that remind them of their youth, and this is what my own youth looked like. When you are my age, I am sure people will refer to your own interior as 'early twenty-first century Americana' or something of the sort."
"I don't think so," she replied with a cheeky grin. "I'm way too cool to be outdated."
"We shall see when you hit eighty and see everything you think is cool become 'vintage'," he grinned back at her. Then, he turned to Max who appeared to be patiently waiting for the ground to split open and swallow her to end her misery. "She is very impudent," he said. "I like that."
This relieved her quite a bit. If her teacher didn't mind Chloe's antics, this evening with him may not be a complete disaster after all.
Then Chloe's eyes grew wide when she spotted the wooden cabinet in a corner. "Is that a vinyl player?" she asked as she knelt before it and started opening it to inspect the machinery inside.
"Indeed! You have a very keen eye, Mademoiselle Price! It is a LESA 680/R, from Italy. I bought it in 1964 after I finally decided to bid farewell to my old gramophone. Since then, I have tried CD players and even that thing you call MP3, but nothing comes even close to the sound quality of this beauty. My record collection is in the cabinet to your right."
"See that, Max?" Chloe said as she rummaged excitedly through the record collection. "And we thought we were retro with our CDs, but this is next level! Dude, imagine blasting a Firewalk at full power with that baby!"
"Firewalk?" Max asked.
"Yeah, you know, the best hardcore band this side of the Rocky Mountains? Wait, seriously, you've never heard of them? Dude, we should totally fix that! Next time they're playing around I'll take you there, it's gonna be you, me, and the mosh pit!"
"What?" Max felt a sudden rush of anguish. "Mosh pit? Are you cereal?"
"More cereal than a bowl of Lucky Charms! C'mon, don't tell me you don't wanna live dangerously now you're a vampire! Uh, Sir, I guess you don't have any punk records in there? It's all singers and bands I've never heard of!"
"Wait a second," the teacher said as he joined her and took out a record. "Try this one, you should like it."
"Trust?" Chloe asked, doubtful, as she inspected the cover. "Damn, they've really nailed the eighties metal look. Well, okay, let's check this out…"
She put on the record and moments later, the room was filled with booming beats, catchy guitar riffs and angry singing. At first, Chloe stood there, listening attentively, then little by little, her head started shaking, her foot started tapping, and soon she was prancing around the room, headbanging with a huge grin on her face.
"Yeaaah! I got no idea what the hell they're saying but that beat is awesome! Come on, Max!"
She danced to her and gently shook her shoulders as an invitation. Max laughed and her cheeks turned to a slight rosy color, which Chloe assumed was how vampires blush.
"You're crazy," she said.
"Yep, yep, I'm fucking insane on the brain! Let's dance! Shake that bony white ass!"
Max took a quick look at her teacher, and seeing he was laughing, looking benevolently at those two kids being, well, kids, she let loose a bit and started timidly shaking her hips in rhythm. That was not her kind of music at all, and the idea of fooling around in front of her mentor was horribly embarrassing to her, but she had to admit, Chloe's energy was contagious.
"This song fucking rules!" the blue-haired fury shouted with joy as she jumped on the coffee table. "Can't dance, hippie? Come on! Rawk out, girl!"
Now laughing more than ever, Max felt as if her body was moving on its own volition, hips and head shaking and arms raised and flailing around.
"Yes!" Chloe encouraged her. "Break it down, Max!"
Then a solo came and Chloe lost control, playing air guitar while standing on the table as if she was playing in front of a capacity crowd at Coachella. Max looked at her friend, and suddenly something struck her and she found herself breathless. Chloe's antics were hilarious, but there was something else here. She was on fire, her energy radiating around the place like a nuclear bomb. And seeing her friend back, so happy, so lively, after she thought she was gone forever, brought tears to the young photographer's eyes.
And to think I've had second thoughts about bringing her back. When I see her like this, it's obvious it was the right thing to do. My Chloe. My Captain. My everything.
How could I possibly abandon her for five long years?
How stupid was I? She doesn't deserve a friend like me.
But you're back for her, now, Max. And you'll never let her down. Max and Chloe forever, like you've always promised.
"What's wrong, hippie?" Chloe asked. She'd noticed Max's wet eyes and come down from the table to put her hands on her shoulders. "Turning on the waterworks again?"
"Nah, it's nothing," Max mumbled, wiping her tears with her fingers. "Just… I missed you so much all this time… and I've been so stupid, ghosting you all these years…"
"Yeah, that sucks ass, but you know what sucks more? Ruining the mood with mushy crap! Come on, we're here to celebrate, aren't we? Have fun!"
"But… aren't you mad at me?"
Chloe sighed, thoughtful. "Yes, of course I'm still mad… but you saved my life, which is pretty hardcore, you know? Dark Vampire Max bringing her best friend back from the dead, now that would make a hella great comic book!"
Max chortled. "Can we make our characters into pirates?"
"I can't imagine it any other way!"
Monsieur Lacroix, who'd remained silent until now, cleared his throat and asked: "Mesdemoiselles, I would not want to interrupt, but would you like a drink? I am feeling rather thirsty myself."
"Fuck yeah," Chloe shouted, "I'm so thirsty I'd drink Wells's blood!"
He winced at this and said: "I take it as a yes, but I seriously hope you will never consider that. Seriously, do not do that. Ever. Trust me."
He went to the kitchen and from there, asked them if they'd prefer a Saint-Émillion or a Côte-Rôtie, to which Max replied they really didn't know enough about wine to decide.
"Côte-Rôtie it is, then!" he announced. Next, they heard the microwave oven, and soon he was back with a tray containing three glasses and a pot full of warm blood which he put down on the coffee table. They sat down, Max and Chloe together on the couch and Lacroix in his favorite armchair, and the teacher started serving them.
"Is this blood?" Max asked. "I thought you wanted to drink wine?"
"I do," he said with a wink. "But as you now know, Max, wine, like any other drink, tastes rather disappointing to us. I still do drink normal wine sometimes out of habit, but tonight I thought I would introduce you to the way vampires actually enjoy wine."
Then he raised his glass: "To the resurrection of our friend Chloe Price! Welcome to our world, Mademoiselle!"
They toasted, and took a sip. Max's eyes grow wide with astonishment. "It tastes like wine!" she exclaimed. "Like, real wine! How do you do that?"
"Yeah, that's right!" Chloe confirmed. "It's amazeballs!"
Amused, Lacroix explained: "You see, we cannot really taste any liquid other than blood, but on the other hand, we can discern an infinite number of minute differences in the makeup of blood. Depending on what the person ate and drank that day, and on their usual habits, overall health and some genetic factors, their blood will taste completely different than their neighbor's. For instance, if you feed on someone who has had curry two hours before, you will actually feel the flavor of curry in your mouth. That is why I have taken the habit of making myself a wine collection I can actually enjoy. The process is simple: I invite people in for a wine-tasting party, I get them blackout drunk, and while they are sleeping it off, I sample their blood and store it in my refrigerator. And voilà, bloodwine! It took me a long time to get the process right. For example, I discovered that Côte-du-Rhône plus B+ blood is disgusting, while the best taste comes from A-. For Bordeaux, it is the other way around. And Cabernet is only good with O blood. There really is no scientific explanation to this, it is only trial and error. Now I see your glasses are empty so I guess you like it. Who wants a refill?"
They toasted again, and then Chloe rummaged through her pockets and produced cigarette paper and weed, and started rolling a joint.
"I thought you didn't have your weed stash?" Max asked.
"Emergency stash, under the driver's seat," Chloe announced proudly. "Never go out unprepared. Seriously, Max-a-million, you've been driving Bane for three weeks and you never found it?"
"I didn't exactly look for it," the brunette said, which made Chloe chortle.
"I would've guessed you weren't much of a pothead."
Then she lit her joint and took a drag. Max was about to say something about how inappropriate it was to smoke pot while in her teacher's house when Chloe passed the joint to Lacroix who, to Max's bewilderment, accepted it and took a drag.
"What?" he asked, amused at her astonished look. "Just because I am a teacher does not mean I frown upon such things. After all, this cannot kill us. I was a regular at the East London opium dens, back in the seventies – the eighteen seventies, that is – and, you may have heard of a little tea social that happened on the East Coast in 1969?"
"No shit!" Chloe shouted. "You went to Woodstock?"
"Indeed! As an official photographer. What a blast! I remember a night I spent lounging with Jimi Hendrix, smoking reefers the size of sequoias! He was set to play the morning after, and if you look at the video you can tell he was in a completely different world! This was the best concert in my life, and believe me I have seen plenty!"
He then passed the joint to Max, who considered it for a long while before shrugging and accepting it.
"Can't kill us after all," she said, and she took a drag.
Wowza, my head!
"So how's it, Maximus?" Chloe asked. "Your first spliff?"
"I'm feeling dizzy," she said, her head lolling from side to side which amused her friend greatly. "May not have too much of it for now," she added as she gave Chloe the joint back.
"At least you tried. Max Chickenshit Caulfield is officially starting to live dangerously! I'm proud of you!"
"Hey, not fair! I'm not that chickenshit, I tried drug… nevermind."
"What?"
"Nothing, nevermind."
"No no no no no, you were about to say 'I tried drugs before', weren't you? Now that's a story I wanna hear!"
Max buried her head in her hands in embarrassment.
Oh hell… and I know her, she's never gonna give up.
"Okay," she mumbled. "At the Halloween party, two nights ago, I… I got into a fight with Logan, and he challenged me to a Mexican standoff, and I beat him, and then…"
"Wait, rewind that: you actually drank Logan under the table? You?"
"Yeah…"
"No fucking way! How did you-"
"We vampires have a much higher tolerance to alcohol than other humans," Lacroix intervened. "Just like its taste, its effects are greatly diminished on us."
"How high a tolerance are we talking about exactly?" Chloe asked.
"Like, I had to torpedo at least a dozen shots of tequila before I started feeling a little tipsy."
Chloe howled in laughter. "Whoa, so vampires are the ultimate hard-partying machines? I'm gonna love that! So what happened next? You talked about drugs?"
"Yeah, well, I was feeling kinda… euphoric, so someone offered me a pill of ecstasy and I took it."
"I can't fucking believe, Max you're so badass rock'n'roll! So how did the party end?"
"I, uh…" she felt suddenly hot behind her ears. She knew she was blushing. "I don't remember."
Chloe stared at her, an eyebrow cocked.
She knows I'm lying. Shit, I'm such a terrible liar!
Lacroix mercifully came to her rescue and diverted Chloe's attention: "You sound surprised, Mademoiselle Price, but Max's story is actually fairly normal among young vampires. The surge of power and the feeling of invincibility the transformation entails leads to an increase in aggressive and risk-taking behaviors that usually lasts a few weeks, or months. Even more so when the person was not a combative or thrill-seeking person as a normal human. While this is mundane, it also requires proper care to avoid committing one of the two deadliest mistakes a vampire can make: inadvertently revealing their nature, and causing serious harm or death to someone else. Now, while we are on the subject, how do you feel about your new life, Mademoiselle Price?"
"It's uh… it's still hard to wrap my mind around the whole thing. I have like, a million questions! Like, what is it we can do or not? I mean, the movies always contradict each other!"
He smiled. "Indeed they do. Well, let us clarify a few things then, I believe Max has already told you a thing or two?"
"Yeah, we drink blood, we don't have a shadow or a reflection, we can walk around in the sun. She showed me psychokinesis, flickering, wall-crawling and, she didn't show me but told me we can also turn to mist?"
He nodded. "That is quite right, I see she has shown you the basics. But that is only the tip of the iceberg in terms of potential."
"You mean there's more than that?"
"Oh much, much more! You see, we call that magic out of tradition, but I am among those who believe in a more spiritualistic approach: becoming a vampire implies dying and coming back to life. Even you, Max, died during the night after your second dose, though you were not aware of it because you were sleeping, and you came back to life almost immediately after. Many believe that this trip to the nether realms has the effect of… let us say 'unlocking' latent capacities in our minds. Among normal humans, you can find people claiming they have gained second sight or at least a sense of heightened perception after a near-death experience. What happens to us is similar, but on a much larger scale. When we return to this world, we do so with our full potential unlocked. This manifests as a dramatic enhancement of our five senses, as well as superior strength and speed, but also as abilities such as psychokinesis, teleportation, metamorphosis – into mist and even into animals – as well as atmokinesis, cryokinesis, astral projection, animal communication, hell, the oldest of us, those who are a thousand years old and more, even claim to have mastered astral traveling over distances of several thousand miles and to be able to travel between our world and the nether world at will!"
"Whoa, wait a sec!" Chloe shouted out. "I didn't get half the words you said, atmokinesis? Cryokinesis? And animal communication, you mean we can talk to animals?"
"No, you cannot talk to them like you are talking to me, but you can, in a way, make an animal aware of your thoughts and intentions, and if needed, even impose your will on it. With proper meditation techniques, you can even see through the eyes of animals."
"Does this also work on people?" Chloe asked with eagerness. "We can mesmerize them like Dracula?"
He froze for a second, seemingly taken aback by her question, then regained his composure and replied matter-of-factly: "That, ma chère, is one of those things fiction got wrong. In reality, the human mind is too complex to be controlled. As for the other terms, atmokinesis refers to weather control. By sheer force of will you can summon mist, thunder, wind and hail. Considering the odd weather events of today, I believe you are at least a little aware of that already."
Max frowned and asked: "Do you mean, the hailstorm and the snow… it was us?"
"Indeed."
"But it was… we didn't mean it!"
"What was your emotional state when those events occurred?"
"Well, uh, Chloe and I, we were…"
"I'd just discovered that my best friend… my other best friend, had been murdered. I think this doesn't really need more explanation as to my emotional state."
"No it does not," Lacroix said, his voice low and compassionate. "And I am deeply sorry for your loss. Then you can guess what happened: when you are not controlling the weather consciously, you are doing so unconsciously, depending on your emotions. This is something you need to be aware of and harness, for you do not want to inadvertently cause a storm that will destroy Arcadia Bay, do you?"
Max started upon hearing those words, and suddenly felt queasy. These words had resonated with her in an uncomfortable way… fortunately, nobody seemed to notice and Lacroix went on:
"Cryokinesis refers to cold manipulation. You might have noticed already that our sole presence has the effect of lowering the room temperature by a couple degrees. This is a natural phenomenon that we cannot prevent, however we can make the room even colder if we want, bring it down to sub-zero temperatures and create ice and frost."
Chloe turned to Max, a sly smirk on her face: "Now if you want your revenge we don't even need a PlayStation anymore, cause I… am… Sub-Zero!"
"No fucking way!" Max shouted with outrage as she hit her with a cushion. "You didn't forget that, did you?"
"Fuck no I didn't!" Chloe retorted, laughing her head off. "Can't forget one of my happiest childhood memories!"
"Happiest for you, not for me!" Then, turning to Lacroix who looked perplexed, the brunette explained: "We played Mortal Kombat a lot when we were kids, and she'd always pick Sub-Zero and spam freeze and slide attacks to trigger me!"
"Not my fault if you weren't good enough to beat me!"
Lacroix chortled: "Well it looks like you have some unresolved childhood conflicts here. Though I advise you not to use your powers on one another for fun, you are not likely to kill each other but abusing your powers may draw some unwanted attention on yourselves."
"Oh by the way," Chloe asked, "how can we be killed? Should we be careful about garlic or crosses?"
"Good question, I was about to address it. While we are immortal and rather mighty, it does not make us invincible, and there are many ways in which we are mightily vulnerable. When it comes to deadly dangers, there are only four ways to kill us: decapitation, a wooden stake through the heart – I insist on wooden, metal will not work – immolation, and complete blood loss. Things that could kill a normal human, such as a major head trauma, will only cause temporary death to us until our body heals. A vampire's body is a miracle indeed! Our saliva can ease pain and heal shallow wounds, and our blood is so potent a single dose can cure a human of any disease as well as enhance their potential! Apart from the four deadly dangers I just mentioned, there are a number of rules and limitations you must be aware of: we cannot metamorphose or control the weather or use psychokinesis during the day; while we can walk around in the sun, we also need a minimal amount of sleep to be fully functional; we cannot eat solid food; we cannot bear children; we are severely allergic to garlic, the very smell of it is unbearable to us and should we be unlucky enough to drink some, we would get so sick for a day or two we would wish we were dead; we have an instinctive fear of religious symbols, though these will not harm or repel us actively unless we approach their owner with malicious intent. Needless to say, we cannot feed on someone wearing a crucifix. Do not touch holy water: it burns like acid. We also cannot penetrate a sanctum if we are not welcome, we cannot penetrate a church or similar place of worship, nor can we penetrate a circle of salt."
"Wait, what's a sanctum?" Chloe asked.
"Someone's home," Max said. "Could be a house, an apartment or a dorm room, as long as someone lives there, it's their sanctum."
"Oh, okay, but is it a hard rule, like in Buffy where they're stuck at the doorstep, or is it more a manners thing?"
"All these rules I just mentioned," Lacroix said, "are physical laws that we cannot break. I believe you were referring to moral laws, Mademoiselle Price?"
"Yeah."
"Then there is technically none. I mean, there is not a single definition of what a vampire is or should be, or what they should do or not. Vampires are as diverse as people, and just like people, the vast majority of us abide by the laws and social norms of human society, partly because we have found out it is the best way to ensure a long and safe life for us, and partly because, well, we are human too, just a little different. We can make friends, we can have relationships with normal humans, we have jobs and social security numbers, and our sole ambition is to live fulfilling lives. I personally believe our purpose on this planet is to accumulate centuries of knowledge and first-hand experience to preserve and pass along to the future generations. I will give you an example: I know a man named Wolf, he was a musical prodigy in the 18th century but he died way too young. Among his fans was a vampire who refused to let his talent go to waste, so he revived him as a vampire, and since then and for three centuries, Wolf has been teaching music. Ritchie Blackmore, Jimmy Page, Eddie Van Halen and countless others have benefitted from his lessons. There is a woman in China who is said to be several thousand years old and to have mastered absolutely every single Chinese martial art ever invented, which makes her a priceless cultural treasure. While I do not claim to be as talented and important as these two people, I am trying to follow their example with my own trade, photography. The only differences between us and normal humans are that our identities are fake and must be renewed every fifty years or so, we have to drink blood, and fostering meaningful relationships is tricky for us since the matter of our true nature will eventually have to be addressed. On top of general social standards, there are a couple commonly accepted rules that apply specifically to us: we have to feed on people without killing them, and without causing any harm, because, obviously, thou shalt not kill; while there is no law preventing us from revealing our true nature to whoever we please, it is generally advised to be very cautious about it, I have discussed this matter with Max already; however, while you can out yourself, you cannot out another vampire without their consent, it is a major, major faux pas. And last but not least, because I said it before but it cannot be repeated enough: thou shalt not kill. Unfortunately, there will always be a fraction of our kind who refuse to abide by this golden rule. Just like normal humans have their serial killers and psychopaths, we have our own bloodthirsty monsters as well. Fortunately, they are scarce…"
"So, is there a governing body, a vampire police or something?"
The teacher smirked: "If you are asking about the Camarilla, Mademoiselle Price, no, it does not exist. We are simply not numerous enough to have any sort of social structure, the only thing of the sort we have is a chatroom on the Dark Net, and even it only has, say, a couple hundred members."
"Wow! Vampire the Masquerade player, much?"
Her surprise made him chuckle: "I must confess I have played a couple games indeed. It is very entertaining, gets a lot of things wrong, which I guess is why it is so much fun. I was a Toreador."
"I could've guessed, you being an artist and all. I was Brujah."
"I am not surprised at all," he sniggered.
"Vampire the Masquerade?" Max asked, astonished. "Chloe Elizabeth Price, you're a roleplayer?"
"Why, yeah," the girl mumbled, blushing. "I… look, you were gone and I was trying to make friends, you know? First year at Blackwell there was this girl, Steph, we got along fine and she was a massive D&D nerd, like she was a DM and a damn good one, so I ended up playing with her and her friends, mostly D&D but sometimes we'd do a game of VtM or Shadowrun for a change…"
"DM?"
"Dungeon master. That's the, uh, guy or girl who tells the story for the others to play."
"Oh. Funny, dungeon master sounds more like leather and whips and shackles to me…"
Chloe gave her a funny look: "You have a filthy mind, Caulfield, you know that? Never though sweet little Max was into that kind of things…"
"I'm not!" Max shot back, blushing hard. "I-I was making a joke, that's all!"
"Yeah, right. A joke… I should take a look at your dorm room, I'm sure I'll find a whip hidden in there somewhere. So who's your sub?"
The image of Victoria moaning under Max's bite suddenly invaded the young photographer's mind and she had to struggle hard to repress it. Her heart was racing and she was sure she was blushing like a tomato now.
Shit, I forgot how good she was at embarrassing me every chance she got! It's always been one of her favorite games, too bad she's the only one who enjoys it! You wanna play this again, Price? Careful, I got teeth now!
"Why do you ask?" she asked calmly, staring at her punk friend straight in the eye. "Wanna apply for the position?"
Max felt incredibly proud of herself, seeing the devastating effect of her words. Rosy cheeks, slack mouth, eyes like a deer caught in the headlights: the look on her face was priceless, no pun intended.
Mic drop.
Max: 1 – Chloe: 0
"This is very entertaining to watch," Lacroix intervened, looking greatly amused. "I must say, the chemistry between you two is amazing. Now I understand why she was the one condition to you, Max."
"Condition?" Chloe cocked an eyebrow. "What condition?"
"I am sorry, has she not told you yet? Mademoiselle Price, the only reason Max agreed to become a vampire was so she could bring you back."
"What?" Chloe yelped, then turned to her friend who looked like she was actively trying to fuse with the couch. "You… you…"
The news had been so bewildering she was at a loss for words.
"You became a vampire… for me?"
"Um… yeah?" Max mumbled coyly. "I told you, I couldn't live with you being gone, so first chance I got-"
"Yeah I know, but I thought you were already a vampire and decided you might as well… I never thought you would… on purpose… shit!"
And all of a sudden she jumped on Max and embraced her in a big, heartfelt hug.
"This is the most awesome thing someone has ever done for me," she declared with a voice choked with tears. "Thank you. I mean it."
Max didn't say anything, the big lump in her throat wouldn't allow any word to come out. So she just sat there, hugging her dearest friend she'd thought she'd lost forever, enjoying this moment, this second chance life was giving her. Giving them. After a couple minutes, though, Max grew self-conscious about still being in Lacroix's company.
"Uh, Chloe? It's not that I don't like it, but you're getting mushy…"
"Not at all," Chloe claimed as she hurriedly broke the hug, flushing.
An awkward silence settled for a while, which the punk eventually decided to break:
"I do have another question."
"Go ahead," the teacher replied.
"It's a very important one, it's been on my mind for, shit, a crazy long time… the Quarter Pounder With Cheese…"
Max rolled her eyes. Lacroix laughed.
"Yes," he said, "we do call it the Royal Cheese in France, and yes it is because we, as a civilized country, use the metric system of course, so Quarter Pounder would not make any sense. Any other question?"
This sparked a debate about the merits of the imperial system versus the metric system which escalated into a "France vs USA" joke contest. Eventually, after about an hour, the girls bid the teacher good night and returned to the truck, as Chloe really wanted to show her friend a surprise, a "hella cool place".
"Whoa, careful there," Max warned as the truck started veering dangerously on the darkened road. "Chloe, are you drunk?"
"Maaaaybe a little," her friend said, smiling cheerfully. "That bloodwine thing is pretty strong…"
"Yeah, I'm feeling kinda buzzed too… funny, pure tequila did almost nothing, but four glasses of bloodwine and we're gone…"
"Maybe drinking booze-soaked blood has more effect on us than regular booze? Not gonna complain about that, I haven't felt so good in fucking ages! There we are!"
And Chloe parked at the entrance of-
"The junkyard?" Max asked, frowning. "Is that really your 'hella cool place'?"
"Wait till you see it," Chloe replied with a wink.
On these words, the young punk left the car and started pacing along a path through the various wrecked cars and boats and household appliances, Max walking behind her, struggling to keep up.
Curse Chloe and her endless legs! Why do I always end up with crane girls I can't keep up with?
Eventually, the two girls arrived at a dismal shed by the railway, which was hardly more than four walls of bare cinder blocks topped by a roof of slate and wooden planks that had definitely seen better days.
"Tadaa!" Chloe announced in triumph as she led her friend inside. "Welcome to my humble abode!"
Max took a look at the place. It definitely looked better on the inside! There were makeshift benches along two walls, with a large wooden cable reel for a table. The rest of the furniture was sparse, just a low shelving unit, a rusty steel drum and a chair and a car seat that had obviously been salvaged from the junkyard. Pizza cartons, empty beer bottles, concert flyers, ashtrays full of cigarette and joint butts, and even some make-up were scattered all over the table and shelves. The walls were decorated with graffiti written in Chloe's trademark poetic style (Lalaland this way next to a window; Fuck you, yes you), as well as several posters and random junk, a fridge door, a dart game, license plates, and a large yellow carpet with the image of an elephant between two palm trees. Altogether the place looked shabby but also oddly inviting and Max couldn't help but whistle in admiration:
"That's a pretty cool lair!"
"Isn't it? This was our secret hideout with Rachel. A quiet hole just for us, safe from this shitty world. Have a seat, Pete! Let's have a drink!"
Max complied and sat down on one bench, while Chloe took the other and bent down to search the floor under her seat.
"You're in a good mood," Max commented.
"Seeing my best friend willingly sacrifice her humanity to save my punk ass makes me happy."
She stopped her search and raised her head to meet her eyes and added: "Seriously, Max, I don't know if I'll ever get over it, I'm still tripping on it. What you did, that was…"
Max shrugged modestly: "I didn't sacrifice much, if you think about it: I got eternal life and superpowers out of it, after all."
"And you lost your ability to ever have kids."
"Never saw myself as a mom anyway."
"And you can't have bacon or Belgian waffles ever again! Fuck, thinking I'm never gonna have eggs and bakey for the rest of my hella long life makes me wanna cry, so to think you gave up on that willingly, it's… fucking heroic!"
Max's heart fluttered upon hearing herself being called a hero, and she looked down and smirked in embarrassment, mumbling: "Okay, maaaybe then, I can say I'm a little heroic…"
Chloe looked down to resume her search and let out a cry of satisfaction as she produced a cardboard box.
"Now, just need to make some room…"
With a swift move of her arm, she swiped the table clean, oblivious to the trash that was now littering the floor, and emptied the content of the box on it. A bottle of Jack Daniel's. Two bottles of Captain Morgan. Another one of Smirnoff. And two glasses.
"Pick your poison!"
"Uh… Chlo, you know these will mostly taste the same to us, right?"
Chloe sighed in annoyance: "I know that, doesn't mean we can't play pretend! Okay then, party pooper, rum for you! And for me! A drink worthy of the Pirates of Arrrcadia Bay!"
Max giggled at that, happy to see Chloe had not forgotten their precious pirate games. The blue-haired girl served the two glasses and toasted:
"To my First Mate Long Max Silver!"
Beaming with joy, Max toasted back:
"To Captain Bluebeard, Captain for eternity, through the tides of time and beyond the edge of the world!"
They drank, belched, and Chloe served another round.
"So you said this was your secret hideout with Rachel?" Max asked. "Funny, I wouldn't have imagined her hanging out in a place like this."
"Oh sorry my darling, isn't this place good enough for a proper lady?"
Max chortled. "That's not what I meant. Really, it's a cool spot! Just… from what I've heard of her, she was like, the Queen of Blackwell."
Chloe sighed: "Yeah… yeah, she was. She was beautiful, rich, fashionable, talented… I would never have imagined she'd choose to hang out with me, of all people. But I was the only one she felt comfortable enough with to show her true self. Truth was, she hated her life. She hated this shit hick town, she hated her asshole District Attorney father who spoke like a goddamn politician all the time and lied to her all her life, she hated Blackwell and all those entitled scumbags studying there, she hated what she had to become to be someone there… I think we first bonded over our mutual desire to see this shithole burn to the ground… she wanted to go to L.A. to become a model, or an actress. She certainly had the talent. Dude, you should've seen her, on stage she was… mesmerizing! She always said we'd go there together… but then…"
Her voice faded and died, and it was like a gloom had fallen upon the girls.
"Chloe, I'm so sorry…"
"Nevermind." She took a deep breath to keep her tears at bay. "Oh fuck, way to ruin the mood is it? Let's talk about something else! Here, check this out!"
She finished her drink, stood up, and knelt in front of the shelving unit. When she stood up to face Max again, she was proudly holding a toy pirate sword in each hand, which made the brunette erupt in joyous laughter:
"I can't believe it, you kept our swords all these years?"
"You bet I kept them! Now it's time for a celebratory showdown!"
Excited, she tossed a sword at Max who grabbed it and stood up, giggling, and the two girls were now facing each other in ready position.
"Ye thought ye could betrrray me and steal me ship, ye lily-livered landlubber!" Chloe shouted in her best pirate voice as she thrusted.
Max parried expertly and counterattacked while retorting: "Who dares call me a landlubber shall have a taste o' me blade, ye scabby sea bass!"
"First I'll disarm ye, then I'll make ye walk the plank with a bottle of rum and a yo ho ho!"
"When I'm done with you I'll rip and burn yer jolly roger!"
"Ha! Come at me if ye dare!"
And the girls crossed their plastic blades again, and again, all the while prancing around the confined interior of the shade, each trying to corner her opponent, but to no avail, for they had been playing this game since they were kids and knew each other's tricks by heart. It could have been a long, heated battle were it not for the rubbish strewn around the floor, for eventually, Chloe stepped on a beer bottle and, with a shriek, fell on her butt, dropping her sword in the process.
"Ha!" Max cried out in triumph, pointing her sword at Chloe's throat. "Ye're at me mercy now! Surrender yer ship, Captain Bluebeard!"
"Alright, alright, I admit defeat! Jesus Max, I don't remember you were so good at this!"
"I got better over the years," Max boasted as she tossed her weapon away and offered her hand to Chloe.
"Yeah," the blue-haired girl said as she took her hand, "but you forgot the number one rule."
Then Chloe shot her an impish grin. Max frowned for a second, and then gasped in dread as she realized what a terrible mistake she'd made. Too late! Chloe had already grabbed her hand in a vise-like grip and, after lifting a leg to rest her foot on the brunette's tummy, she pulled her hard to make her keel over and fall to the floor.
"Never trust a pirate!" the punk exulted.
"Aouch!" Max complained as she landed heavily on her back, her head next to Chloe's. "I don't think pirates really used judo tosses, you know? Where the hell did you learn that anyway?"
"Oh, y'know, around… so now we can call it a stalemate."
"No fucking way!" Max giggled. "I totally beat you fair and square!"
"I tripped on a bottle, how fair is that?"
"So what? Want a round two?"
"Maybe later, first we need to smoke the peace pipe."
And on these words, she grabbed her stuff from her pocket and started rolling a joint, while still lying on the floor.
"Not a very pirate thing," Max commented.
"Pirate enough for me," Chloe shrugged as she lit it and took a drag before passing it to Max.
They lay there for a little while, smoking in silence, staring at the ceiling and enjoying each other's proximity, lost in their little bubble of happiness. It felt like yesterday when they had last seen each other, five years before. Well, they didn't smoke weed when they were thirteen, but you get the idea. After the emotional rollercoaster of the past couple of hours, here they were, playing and fooling around like their lives were but an endless summer day. Max and Chloe, best friends forever again. It felt so… right.
"Dude, I'm seriously glad to see you again," Chloe whispered.
"Me too," Max whispered back.
"For real?"
"Of course! Why do you ask?"
"I dunno… just wanna make sure you've not brought me back out of… guilt or something. After all, you were fine not calling me for five years, and you didn't even call me when you moved back, guess you weren't in such a hurry to see me again."
"Oh, Chloe I-"
"If you say you're sorry again, I'll kick your butt so hard you're gonna fly straight back to Blackwell. I'm not mad at you, what you did for me tonight more than makes up for those five years. I just want to understand what happened to you. To us. Cause it hurt, Max, it really did. Coming back to my father's funeral to find out that you were gone, and all you'd left behind was a stupid tape… we were always here for each other, we always said we'd never, ever let anything or anyone tear us apart, and the day I needed you the most, you turned to mist and vanished. My life really went to shit after that day, Max. First Dad, then you. I felt like nothing could make me happy ever again. I started skipping school because I didn't see the point in studying anymore. On these days I'd just hang out at the lighthouse, by myself, just sitting down and staring at the bay, wishing you were here, wondering what I'd done for you to abandon me. Sometimes I felt so bad that, when mom was working I'd steal a bottle of wine and lock myself up in my room to drink it, cause I quickly found out booze made the pain go away, even if it was just for a while. Guess that's what kickstarted my drinking habit. Around this time I started hanging out with Steph and the other roleplaying nerds, we were in class together and we found out we were both science fiction geeks, so one thing leading to another I ended up spending my free time pretending to be a rogue knight or some shit. But it gave me something to hold on to. Then mom started dating Sergeant Pepper, and it got worse, way worse. Asshole thought he could put me back on the right track by yelling at me like I was a recruit. Couldn't bear it. I ran away from home several times, I started smoking and listening to punk music and playing chicken with trains…"
"Playing chicken with trains?" Max asked, startled.
"Yeah, that's when you stand on the tracks, staring at a train that's heading straight to you, honking like crazy, and you wait till the very last moment to jump out of its way."
"But why did you do that? That's hella dangerous!"
"Guess I didn't really care about dying anymore. I probably would've killed myself eventually with all the crazy shit I did back then. If it weren't for Rachel who, somehow, managed to keep my dumb ass alive…"
"Man I had no idea I'd messed you up so much…"
"I said don't say you're sorry, remember?"
"I remember, yeah. But I still am. Like, I really am."
"That's not what I wanna hear. What I wanna hear is why."
Max sighed and struggled with the lump in her throat to speak: "I don't know how to say it… first, I'm really sorry about William's funeral. It was horrible, there's no other way to call it. I begged my folks to pull back the move, even for just a couple of days, but they wouldn't listen. The date was set long ago, it would be too hard and too expensive to change it now, and blah blah blah… I still hate them for that. I love my folks, don't get me wrong, but what they did that day… man, what kind of cold-hearted asshole couldn't make even a little effort to let their daughter comfort her best friend and say goodbye properly? They kept saying we could always text and call each other, and we did for a while, but…"
"But then you stopped?"
"I didn't want to. I just… it didn't feel the same. Even if it wasn't my fault, I still felt horrible for moving on that very day, without even saying goodbye to you in person… I didn't feel right talking to you after that, I felt your pain and thought talking to me could only hurt you more, after what I did… so I got more and more anxious calling you, until I got so anxious I couldn't even text you anymore. First I thought, okay, take a little break, maybe a week, to get your shits together? But the week turned to a month… then a year… and the longer it went, the harder it became for me to consider calling or texting again, cause I was sure you'd be mad at me for ghosting you and I was scared, I imagined you yelling at me and it was unbearable… and it only got worse over time, like a spiral down the toilet bowl. But trust me, I never forgot about you. You know, when I moved back here two months ago, first thing I wanted to do after I moved my stuff in my room was to call you, or come over to your house to surprise you… but just thinking about it, my palms were sweating, I was trembling, and before I knew it I had a full-blown panic attack. I was so sure you wouldn't want to see me again, either because you hated my gut or because you had simply moved on with your life, like my folks kept saying, that I didn't even try. That's the way it was. Not really an excuse, is it? I'm just an asshole."
Silence. Then Chloe, thoughtful, took a drag of the joint and asked: "Your folks kept telling you I'd moved on with my life? How the fuck would they know?"
"I dunno, but that's what they kept saying, yeah. That you'd probably moved on and I should move on too, make new friends."
She snorted, and Max could sense a cruel bitterness in it. "What a fucking surprise!"
"What do you mean?"
"I always knew they'd pull out some shit like that sooner or later… your folks hate me."
"What? C'mon Chlo, that's ridiculous, they loved you! They always said you helped me out of my bubble better than they ever did!"
"Yeah yeah, and I'm also the one who got you into way more trouble than they ever wished for. They never said it out loud because I was your only friend and they didn't want to hurt you by breaking us apart, but they thought I was a very bad influence on you. I knew it, I could feel it. So, when you told me you were moving to Seattle, I thought, 'bastards finally had enough of me'."
"Chlo, we moved because my dad got a new job, I told you. It was a great opportunity for him."
Chloe snorted somberly: "Opportunity for what? Royally fucking up their daughter and her best friend by taking you away from me when I needed you the most? Yeah, right. I'll tell you something, Maximus: I don't blame you. Of course you hurt me, but I see where you come from, and thank you for being honest with me. Your folks, though? They can go fuck themselves for all I care."
Max said nothing, just stared at the ceiling, feeling thoughtful and gloomy. Did her parents really hate Chloe in secret? Her first instinct was to call it ridiculous, obviously. Yet… all these years, she had never really understood why her parents had been so callous about moving on the day of William's funeral, without a single thought about Chloe and Joyce's well-being, and she had never ceased to resent them for it.
"So how was Seattle?" Chloe asked after taking a drag of the joint. "Did you at least enjoy yourself there?"
"Oh yeah! It felt like a real city for artists, big and bright. Great for taking pictures, and…"
She sighed sadly and resumed: "Who am I kidding here? I was miserable there."
"Oh?" Chloe asked, surprised. "I'm sure I would've loved that place. Great rock scene."
"I would probably have enjoyed it with you. But the move was harsh, and once we were settled, well, I realized I was on my own. Without my Captain to protect me, my old anxiety returned with a vengeance. I had panic attacks almost daily, my parents kept pestering me to get out of the house, explore, make friends, but it only made it worse. I could only go out with them, and even then, not too long. There were rare times when I felt really good, like when Dad took me to a hockey game, but in general… and don't get me started with school."
"Oh, fuck!" Chloe groaned, suddenly realizing that Max, her Max, her little ball of anxiety who survived primary and middle school only because she had her friend with her, had to face high school alone, in an unknown city.
"Fuck, that couldn't be more accurate," Max said. "You can easily imagine how my first day went: first time I was asked my name, I ended up curled up into a ball of tears on the classroom floor. So, of course, on the second day I already had a couple cute nicknames, like Panic Girl, Waterworks, or just plain Weirdo…"
"They… bullied you?" Chloe asked, her voice trembling with tension. The very thought of her Max being bullied was enough to spark the desire to drive all the way to Seattle and burn her former high school to the ground.
"Yeah," Max said, "they did. I'm not gonna give you the details, it would make you mad and it wouldn't do me any good either to bring those memories back from where I've safely stored them, but I was alone, depressed and anguished for most of my time there. Near the end, it got better, I'd managed to make a couple friends. Although it wasn't really friendships, more like we were a bunch of bullied loners so we started sticking together, you see? So… you can imagine what was my state of mind when I came back, two months ago."
"Coming back here after regressing to your old panicky mode for five years? Fuck, you bet I understand better now."
Max had a start when she felt the gentle touch of Chloe's hand on her cheek. She turned to meet her friend's eyes that seemed to be glistening with affection.
"But it's okay now," she murmured softly as if to soothe a small child. "We're back together, and it's gonna be just like before… no, even better than before. Cause when the Pirates of Arcadia Bay are united, nothing can stop them."
Max smiled and gently lay her own hand on Chloe's cheek as she answered, her voice choked with overwhelming emotion: "Ye bet, Capt'n."
Chloe chuckled, then suddenly went serious and worried: "Max… I'll always be grateful for what you did for me, but… promise you won't leave me again?"
"Never. These five years were just a setback, we always promised to each other that we'd be best friends forever, and this promise still holds."
Chloe closed her eyes in contentment and whispered dreamily: "Yeah. Hella best friends forever…"
Then she shook her head and opened her eyes, as if she'd just snapped out of a trance: "Dude," she asked with embarrassment, "are we getting mushy here?"
Max giggled: "Oh yeah, we're so hella mushy!"
"Fuck!" the punk let out as she jumped on her feet and went back to sit at the table, Max following suit. "That means we need to crank up the party!"
And on these words, she poured more drinks and fiddled with her phone until she found some nice punk rock to blast in the shed. Max had just finished her glass when her phone rang. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the caller's ID.
"It's Kate," she informed Chloe. "I got to answer."
"Dude, we're in the middle of a reunion party!" she protested.
"I know, sorry, but I've been a real bitch to her for no reason today, I'd been trying to call her to apologize when you woke up, and… I told you she's got a lot to deal with, so I have to answer."
"Big whoop. You don't call me once in five years and now you're all over some beeatch you see every day at school? I see how you roll. So go ahead, chat up Kate Marsh from Blackwell. And please, don't let your best friend get in the way."
And Chloe slammed her glass on the table and grabbed a bottle and angrily strode out of the shed, making sure to make as much noise as was humanly possible in the process.
Shit, I'd forgotten how bad her tantrums could be! I hope I didn't hurt her feelings… I see where she comes from, maybe I should give her all my attention tonight, she deserves it. But Kate… oh, dammit!
"Hi Katie, what's up? How are you feeling?"
"Katie?" the other girl's voice asked with surprise.
Shit. Remember you're kinda drunk Max, do your best to hide it!
"Um, sorry, it kind of came out this way… you don't like it?"
Kate giggled, much to Max's relief: "Actually I do like it, just surprised. So, how are you tonight?"
"I should be the one asking you! Kate, I so hate myself right now for-"
"It's okay. Really. I saw you tried to call me several times earlier tonight, but I wasn't in a right place to talk to you. Then Vicky told me what you told her, and… I couldn't sleep tonight, I've been watching cartoons for over an hour to no avail, so I figured I needed to talk to you now. So yeah, Vicky told me how stressed out and tired you are right now, Max I'm really sorry I got mad at you, if I had known-"
"Oh no no no, Katie, please! You had every right to be mad at me, there's absolutely no excuse for what I did. It's true I got a lot going on at the moment, but it doesn't give me the right to hurt my friends with my outbursts. So I'm the one who says I'm sorry. And I mean it, Kate. I'm truly sorry."
"I know," Kate said, and from the sound of her voice, Max knew she was smiling and it made her feel warmer. "I forgive you, Max. And even though it came out more brutally than it should have, you were right, I have to learn to stand up for myself more."
"Honestly, you did well with your mom. Standing up for yourself is one thing, but to your own parents it's like, Ultra Hard mode. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about."
"You stood up to your parents?" Kate squealed with genuine astonishment. "Wow, who would've thought Max Caulfield was a rebellious teen?"
Max chuckled: "I wouldn't say rebellious, but… I wasn't always easy to handle."
"Then maybe I should take lessons from you. But… promise you'll never do that again? Cause I'd never seen you so mad before, I mean there was the thing with Logan but then your anger wasn't directed at me, so it's not the same. I was really frightened today."
"I'm so sorry I scared you. And I promise, from now on I'll keep my stupid emotions in check. Next time I feel another anger like that, I'll take some time out and breathe it out. I just… hope I didn't cause too much damage?"
"Actually, there's kind of a silver lining to this whole story."
"What do you mean?"
"Dad called this evening."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. We had a long conversation, it was really nice."
"He… wasn't too mad at me?"
"Of course he was, what do you think?" Kate scolded playfully. "You've been very rude to my mom and you should be ashamed of yourself, that's what he said."
"Ouch, I couldn't agree with him more," Max mumbled while rubbing her face with embarrassment.
"But at the same time, he was happy to see that after all I've been through lately, I have made friends who are so fiercely protective of me. You know, he and Mom don't always see eye to eye. I don't want to sound ungrateful or disrespectful, but I've always felt Mom was really into my education and virtue, while Dad was more concerned about my actual wellbeing, you know?"
Yeah, your dad is a decent parent while your mom is a major A-hole, Max thought, but took care to keep those thoughts to herself.
"So," Kate resumed, "he told me that if I have such good friends here to look after me, maybe I should stay at Blackwell, so he's gonna talk to Mom about it."
"Kate, that's great news!" Max declared with barely-contained joy. "I'm so happy for you! And for me, Blackwell wouldn't be the same without you!"
Kate giggled: "Yeah, I've had pretty tough times here, but I'd be really sad not to have tea parties with you anymore. You're an amazing friend, Max, and so is Warren, and… I'm kinda growing fond of Vicky too…"
There was a pause, then she sighed deeply and said: "Anyway, I'm relieved we could talk this out."
"Yeah, me too. And sorry again."
"Don't mention it, it's history now." She yawned. "I guess my pillow is calling me now."
Max chuckled: "I could hear that. I guess I'd better let you go get your beauty sleep. Good night, Katie."
"Good night, Max. And thank you. For everything."
Max hung up, smiling like a goof, but her joy was gone as soon as she heard the sound of Chloe's angry kick in a pile of garbage, outside.
Great, now to Chloe. Man, she's my best friend alright, but dealing with her when she's in that mood is like defusing a ticking time bomb!
She went outside to meet her friend who welcomed her with a death glare:
"Finished with your new best friend? Ready to do your charity deed and spend time with the resident useless punk?"
"Chlo…"
"Don't 'Chlo' me, Max!" she yelled. "Seriously, what the fuck! We just had a conversation, I opened my heart to you, you promised me with teary eyes that you'd never leave me again, and first chance you get, you ditch me for Kate!"
"I told you, this is a special case, I had to answer! I've been real mean to her and she needed to talk to me to-"
"I need you too, Max! But obviously you have other priorities, like everybody else in this shit town! No surprise after all, you abandoned me once! Rachel abandoned me! Dad abandoned me! Everybody abandons me! Fuck!"
Her last word came out roaring from the top of her lungs, and the next thing they knew, there was a flash of white and an explosion that pushed the two of them off the ground and they landed on top of one another, a couple feet from where they stood.
"Holy shit, are you okay Maxi-pad?" Chloe asked in panic, holding her friend in her arms and instantly reverting to protective mode.
"Yeah," Max reassured her, "don't worry about me. Just my ears are ringing like hell!"
"Yeah, mines too! What the fuck was that?" she asked, turning her attention to the burnt patch of soil that had appeared where they stood a second ago. The hairs of her arms were erect, and the metallic tang of ozone filled her nostrils.
"That," Max explained patiently, "was a bolt of lightning. I summoned a couple of them by accident, earlier this evening, when I was really pissed. Apparently that's part of our weather control powers."
"That's… awesomesauce!" Chloe whispered, and shortly after her amazed big-eyed look turned to a devious grin. "Know what I'm thinking about?"
"What?"
"Practice time!"
The makeshift shooting range was but a wooden plank supported on one end by an old shelving unit and on the other end by a rusty drum, with a wooden plate behind for backing, all of that sitting next to a pile of car wrecks. Five empty bottles were placed at an equal distance along the plank. Chloe had asked Max to go find them and Max had come back barely a minute later with her loot.
"Already?" Chloe had asked, stunned by how little time she'd taken.
"Of course, there were plenty of those in the hideout!" Max had replied cheerfully. "What, you thought I'd waste an hour looking for those all around the place?"
Now the range was all set, and the girls were ready for their little experiment, except for the fact that they were now pretty drunk, staggering and giggling like idiots.
"Max," Chloe said, "would you do us the honor?"
"Nah, be my guest!"
"Okay, watch that!"
Then Chloe raised her hand, struggled to steady her aim at one of the bottles, and took a deep breath, trying to be serious here for once. She felt the glass against her palm, and with a swift pushing motion, she sent the bottle flying back, where it broke in pieces against the backing plate.
"Your move, hippie!" she called out triumphantly.
"O-O-Okay, ok-kay," Max stammered as she steadied herself. "How about this!"
She raised her hand, aimed, felt the glass against her palm, only instead of pushing she closed her hand into a fist. The bottle on the plank imploded. Chloe huffed. "Show off! My turn!"
Once again she took aim, focused, and this time she raised her arm swiftly toward the sky. The bottle took off like a rocket and disappeared into the night. There was a second of silence. And another. And another. And finally, the bottle came back down and crashed right in front of the girls' feet.
"Booyah!" Chloe shouted. "Whatcha gonna do now, huh?"
But Max wasn't ready to admit defeat. Chloe wanted something surprising and spectacular, she was gonna get it! The girl raised her arm, took aim at one of the two remaining bottles. But instead of using her psychokinetic power, she tried something else. She closed her eyes, breathed in, and reminisced on the past few hours. Her argument with Kate's mom. Kate's scolding. Chloe's rage back in the lair, when she'd given Max a panic attack. She tried to remember her state of mind, how strong her emotions had been then, her anger, her fear. That was not enough. So she started thinking about Nathan, about Jeffershit, thinking about everything they did, and soon she felt her whole body shaking. It was working! So she focused on this rage coursing through her veins and channeled it toward her outreached hand, feeling her fingertips burn with energy.
Now!
She opened her eyes and let out a brief, frank roar, like a karate master throwing a punch, and a bolt of lightning fell from the sky. Only it missed the target and hit a rusty old Ford sitting on top of the car pile next to their shooting range, showering the whole place with sparks, and the shock caused the whole car to collapse from the top of the pile and crash into the shooting range, destroying it entirely along with the two remaining bottles.
Max looked at Chloe with a smug grin.
"Cheater!" Chloe protested.
"I'm no cheater!" Max retorted.
"Yes you are! You were supposed to destroy one bottle in a spectacular way!"
"It was spectacular, wasn't it?"
"But you weren't supposed to destroy the whole range!"
"C'mon Chlo, why don't you just admit I'm better than you?" Max said, cocking her head to the side and batting her eyes coquettishly.
"Better?" Chloe bellowed. "I'll show you who's better, hippie!"
Then the taller girl attempted to step real close to her brunette friend to show dominance, but she staggered on her feet and fell on Max, dragging them both down to the ground.
"You fucking idiot!" Max laughed. "What did you have in mind? Settle it with wrestling?"
"Wrestling sounds cool," Chloe said, sitting up on top of her, "but I just remembered a game I always won at."
She made a dramatic pause. Max gulped when she saw her devious grin.
Uh-oh…
"Tickle fight!" Chloe shouted as she launched a surprise attack.
Max squealed in terror as she struggled to escape Chloe's deadly fingers, but the bluenette's assault proved to be too much to handle and she was soon reduced to a laughing mess.
Several minutes later, both girls were sitting side by side against an old fridge, dirty and panting from their fooling around in the wet soil.
"You are the worst!" Max scolded, which was not convincing at all considering the huge grin plastered on her face.
"Oh, I'm flattered!" Chloe retorted with a giggle, then she sighed in contentment. "Dude, I haven't had this much fun in ages!"
"It's so good to have you back, Captain!"
"You said that a hundred times already!"
"And I intend to say it a hundred more times. At least."
"Damn girl, you are a clingy one aren't you?" Chloe teased, which sent both girls into a fit of laughter.
"Sorry about my drama earlier," Chloe eventually whispered sheepishly. "It was totally uncalled for. I mean, I can't expect to have you all to myself, of course you have other friends… guess I'm the clingy one."
"No bother. Okay, it was pretty excessive, but I get why you were upset: this is our reunion party after all, and it should be just the two of us. In any other circumstance, I wouldn't have answered, but Kate she's… I can't stand her being mad at me, so I really had to apologize."
"Kate sounds like a real special friend."
"Yeah… she helped me a lot when…"
A lump formed in her throat at the memory of this horrible rainy day on the rooftop.
"When what?" Chloe asked.
No fucking way, Max thought. I can't tell her about that.
"Well, let's just say I was in a very dark place, after your funeral, and she was there for me, to keep me back on my feet. I wish I could return the favor. She's got so much shit to deal with, right now…"
"I thought you said that video thing was history?"
"Not really… Nathan's lawyers are pressuring on her to withdraw her complaint, they say there's no solid evidence he drugged her and took her to the Dark Room, and they're threatening to use the video to convince the jury she's a secret junkie, and ruin her reputation. And her mom is threatening to pull her out of Blackwell. Well, this looks like it's getting better, at least…"
"Then why don't we take care of Nathan's lawyers for her?"
Max frowned in confusion: "What do you mean?"
"Justice for Rachel, remember? I wanted to visit Nathan and make sure he gets the punishment he deserves, maybe we can convince him to tell the truth about Kate while we're at it? Two birds one stone kind of thing?"
Max smiled: "Sounds like a good idea…"
"Great! Then let's get going!"
And on these words, the young punk stood up and was already on her way to the truck when Max caught up with her:
"Wait! Tonight? Seriously?"
Chloe shrugged: "Why not? It's not even midnight yet, we have all the time we need, might as well get done with it now."
"But, break into the hospital? Without even a plan?"
"Dude, Arcadia Bay Hospital's no high security compound. Plus, who needs a plan when we won't show up on CCTV and we can literally turn to mist!"
"Yeah, about that… I don't feel too confident about the mist thing yet, maybe we should practice it?"
"More practice? Booooring! I want some action!"
And she resumed her walk, but she had barely made a few steps when Max stopped her again: "And what if I offer you practice and action?"
"I'd say I'm all ears, what's on your mind?"
"How about torturing some jerkass who had it coming and enjoying a snack? Then we hit the hospital if you want."
Chloe grinned, obviously pleased with the way things were going: "Sounds like a plan! To the ship, First Mate!"
"Awesome," Max commented as she sat on the passenger seat, "that's one item off my hit list."
"You have a hit list? Dude, you have to tell me about that!"
"I'll tell you all about it on the way."
"Good. Where do we go, then?"
"Blackwell. The boys' dorm."
Chloe scoffed: "Figures. Perv."
Then she started the engine, and the girls drove off into the night.