Max kicked off her shoes and lay down on her bed, in the dark, staring at the ceiling with a goofy smile on her face. She checked her phone: a few minutes to midnight. She was supposed to meet Chloe soon, but considering punctuality wasn't Chloe's best quality, she probably had more than enough time to take out her diary and sort out the thoughts and feelings that were boiling inside her head:
Dear Diary,
I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! :D :D :D
Yes, you read that right. This date with Victoria was amazeballs! Okay, first it was hella awkward, but after I spilled wine on her skirt (because of course I did, Max Butterfingers strikes again!), we managed to loosen up and we found out it's not just a fling at a party and some teasing, we're both into each other and we both want a relationship. Jeebus I'm still tripping on that!
But I've never been in a relationship, what am I supposed to do now? :O
And I'm sure she's got plenty of experience in relationships, although she told me it's her first time with a girl, but still, I feel like such a child compared to her ＼(ºº l|l)/
Not to mention the fact that, as Lacroix said, if this gets real serious I'll have to consider telling her about… you know, the 'thing'. Dog, what have I gotten myself into?
You're right, Dear Diary, I should focus on the positive: we had a great time. Guess what? She likes to be bitten! And did you know she's also an anime nerd? I never would've guessed in a million years! We both enjoyed the movie. I mean, of course I did, it's my favorite, but it was nice to share it with someone who also enjoyed it, and we ended up curled up on the couch, under a blanket, in each other's arms, and it felt real good. Reminded me of when we were kids, with Chloe, having movie marathons just like that, the two of us on the couch under a blanket, until her folks or mine came to tell us to turn it off and go to bed already!
Crap, I did it again, sorry Dear Diary. It looks like I can't write about anything these days without mentioning Chloe at some point. I guess I'm still tripping on having her back in my life after I thought I'd lost her forever. Should be no surprise I guess, I mean, she was a huge part of my life when I was a kid, heck, she was my world! And after we got separated for so long, we have a chance to pick up where we left off, and it makes me feel happier than I've ever been in five years, so of course she's always on my mind! But it's getting bothersome, even when I'm with my girlfriend, it feels like a part of my mind is still thinking about-
"Booyah!"
Max yelped, dropped her diary and pen, and jumped to the ceiling – literally. Her heart like fireworks on a 4th of July, she looked down from her perch to see Chloe curled up on her bed, laughing like crazy while holding her ribs.
"Holy shit," she managed to utter in-between fits of laughter, "you should've seen your face there!"
"What the fuck was that?" Max asked angrily as she crawled down the wall and back on her bed.
"Booyah!" Chloe explained. "Get it? BOO-yah? Like I'm a scary punk ghost…"
"More like a scary punk asshole! Chloe, I almost had a heart attack!"
"Hum, like that could kill you!"
"How did you get in anyway?"
"I misted in. You were so busy writing you didn't even notice. What were you writing about, by the way?"
Max felt a sudden panic take over her as Chloe picked up her diary and opened it.
"Hey! Gimme that!"
She jumped toward her friend who dodged her expertly while reading. To Max's relief, she hadn't opened it at the right page and was just pretending to read, but still, she had to get her hands on it before she decided she'd actually read!
"Dear Diary, I'm still wet and reeling as I write these lines. I can still feel Vicky's magic tongue in my inner sanctum and oh God, just thinking about it gives me very, very nasty thoughts! Who would've guessed the Ice Queen was so hot and-"
Max attempted another rescue mission but was once again dodged. At this point, she decided she'd had enough of Chloe's shit and used her psychokinesis to pry the book from her hands and back to its rightful owner.
"Hey!" Chloe protested. "Not fair!"
"How fair is reading people's diaries? Bad Chloe, bad!"
"C'mon, I was just messing with you. So tell me, how was your time with Icky Vicky? Wasn't too hard to ditch her?"
"Actually, I didn't ditch her, we both decided we wouldn't sleep together tonight."
"Oh? Why's that?"
"Because we talked and figured it would make for a healthier relationship in the long run if we could just spend time together without humping like jackrabbits."
"What?" Chloe asked in a high-pitched, shocked voice. "You had a date without bedroom rodeo?"
"Yes, and it was lovely."
Chloe let out a forced yawn: "You didn't pronounce 'boring' right."
Max snorted and rolled her eyes: "I don't even know why I'm wasting my time arguing with you. Jackass."
"That's why you love me, honey," Chloe retorted with a wink that made Max snort again.
"Let's just get down to business, okay?"
"Ooooh, I like it when you're being dominant! So, bed or couch?"
"Chloe, what the fuck!" Max let out in a restrained shout while feeling herself blush profusely. The sight of it sent Chloe into another fit of laughter:
"Relax, Max! See, that's what happens when you don't get laid enough, you're all tensed! Okay, I stop, I stop, let's go."
"Gotta change first."
The young photographer walked to her closet and was about to take off her blouse when she noticed Chloe was still looking at her. She froze and looked at her expectantly.
"What?" Chloe asked. "Need some help with that?"
"No, silly. Turn around."
Chloe scoffed: "I've seen you in your underwear before!"
"Yeah, when I was twelve and we weren't both gay yet. Turn around."
Chloe grumbled but complied, and Max changed for her black jeans, black t-shirt, black boots and leather jacket. She paused to consider the dreamcatcher necklace, but eventually decided to keep it on. After all, Chloe had her bullets, Victoria had her pearls, she needed some kind of signature necklace too.
Once in the hallway, Chloe nudged Max and whispered to her that they could also check out the board in Brooke's room while they were at it. Max gave a quick glance at the Asian girl's door, and her ears registered a heartbeat inside.
"Nope," she whispered back. "She's in her room, and I don't wanna run into her tonight. Especially not with you around, imagine she sees you? And while we're at it, we better get the fuck out of here before anyone comes out of their room!"
A few minutes later, a pale, luminescent mist started pouring from under the door into Principal Wells's office, and the mist piled up into an opaque blanket before congregating in the middle of the room, where it formed a column, a thick pillar about six feet high, that then split into two separate columns of vapor that then lost their luminescence as they gained the shape and consistency of two teenage girls.
"Wow," Chloe giggled as she fully recovered her human form, "I guess I'll never get used to that!"
"I can't believe you're actually enjoying it," Max said. "Ugh, feeling my body disintegrate like that, always makes me feel icky!"
"It's not the disintegration thing I like," Chloe retorted with an impish grin. "It's just that… when we mist, our molecules mingle, and for a moment it's like you're inside me and I'm inside you and I…" she shivered: "Makes me giddy."
Max almost choked at these words.
The fuck, Chloe?
She was about to say something, but Chloe turned her back to her to gaze at the room, the expensive wood paneling and the oil paintings that fitted the walls, the tacky trinkets that adorned the shelves, not to mention that horrible bird statue on the huge desk.
"Dude, check this out! Fancy faux art crap. He must want everybody to know he has money… but no taste. Seriously, look at that!" she added as she pointed to the bird statue. "How can you trust somebody who has a fucking bronze bird in his office? I'm glad I was expelled…"
"Yes," Max snorted, "if only the principal had a Monet or Picasso you'd still be at Blackwell…"
"Eat me," Chloe snapped back as she stuck her tongue at her. "I'm gonna pilfer the papers on this ugly-ass desk."
On these words, she proceeded to search the papers on the desk for a short while, then, finding nothing satisfying, she eased herself into the huge leather armchair.
"Okay," she declared, "sure it's ugly, but damn is it a cozy chair!"
Then she put her feet up on the desk and swiveled side to side with the chair. Max looked at her and hesitated between laughing and rolling her eyes. This was how serious Chloe was about "investigating shit".
"We got a job to do, Chlo."
"I know," the blue-haired girl grumbled as she put her feet down and turned on the computer. "This is your chance to get all deductive'n shit, Sherlock! Find us some clues that could link the bastard to Rachel, or Nathan, or Kate… anything! I'm taking the computer."
"Are you a hacker now?" Max asked sarcastically.
"Of course, I'm Lisbeth Fucking Salander, didn't tell you?"
"I didn't read that book."
"Me neither, just saw the movie. The Swedish version, of course! Got a massive crush on Noomi Rapace ever since... anyway, quit wasting time and start looking!"
"I'm on the case!"
As the computer screen lit up, Chloe was not surprised at all to see a password prompt. Of course there was a password! And the young punk may have lied a little: she wasn't exactly a hacker. Not one of those fancy-ass hackers who could read code like it's a fucking cookbook and hack into the NSA and shit. But she knew a couple tricks. For instance, did you know that a lot of civil servants and other general office folks actually never bother changing their passwords from the factory default? She tested that right away on Wells's computer and entered "admin" as the password.
Login failed. Wrong password.
"Admin?" Max scoffed, and Chloe realized at that moment that her friend had been looking over her shoulder all along. "Seriously, I know Wells isn't the sharpest knife in the kitchen, but did you really think he was that dumb?"
"Aren't you supposed to be looking around, Nancy Drew?" Chloe retorted.
"Alright, alright," Max giggled as she stepped back, hands raised. "Sorry for disturbing Miss Salander's concentration."
Chloe shook her head, mumbled something in her breath, and focused again on the screen.
Okay, second try.
The next most common factory default password was… well, "password". She tried it. It worked.
"Booyah!" she exclaimed. "Who's the greatest hacker ever, the queen of cyberspace? Chloe Fucking Price!"
Max answered with a wink and a smirk.
"Dude," Chloe continued as she started browsing, "I know I shouldn't be going through the Principal's files, but it's kind of cool."
"Now's your chance to get revenge on Blackwell…"
"Oh yeah, I'm so bummed I don't get to party with the Vortex Club."
"May happen someday…"
"I guess, now that my best friend's fucking the club president…"
"Don't talk. Search."
"Oooh, I like it when you get bossy. Makes me all fuzzy inside…"
Max decided to ignore this comment. If she reacted to each and every one of Chloe's teasings, there would be no end to it. What the hell had gotten into her, she wondered? Anyway, that was a question for another time, now they had a job to do, so she focused on the file cabinet she was searching into. She scooped up a number of files and started browsing them. Student records.
I know I shouldn't, but it's too tempting…
She started reading them. Victoria's record was spotless, of course. More surprising, so was Kate's.
Not even a mention on her being bullied? Being a victim of Jefferson's? Damn, looks like these records have been expunged…
She then moved to another file. Her own.
Now, what does Mr Wells have to say about good ol'me, I wonder?
She started reading:
BRIEF SUMMARY:
Max, as she prefers to be called, is considered a quiet attentive student with much potential for her photography.
Her GPA fluctuates and she has acknowledged she should be doing better.
Her teachers back up her quiet intelligence, though some complaints find her too nervous and "nosey". Some faculty members would like Max to speak up more in class and be more assertive; others would like her to be less so, but this is a common student suggestion rather than a specific recommendation.
What? I'm not nosey!
There was also a note clipped to her file. It read:
WARNING:
Max has attempted suicide on October 14th, 2013, following the tragic death of former student Chloe Price. Although she is now being followed by mental health professionals, she is still considered vulnerable and at a high risk of relapse. It is strongly advised that all staff and students provide her with as much care and support as she needs through this difficult time.
As soon as she read that, she buried the file back in the drawer.
Chloe can't see that!
The next file was Nathan's. Now, that was interesting…
BRIEF SUMMARY:
Nathan Prescott continues his family's historical legacy at Blackwell Academy with a stellar academic record and a variety of extracurricular activities, including work with the Arcadia Bay Homeless Fund. Nathan is also popular with students and faculty.
He stands as a proud representation of Blackwell.
There was also a note clipped to his file. It read:
Nathan is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder following the tragic death of former student Chloe Price and the revelations of former faculty member Mark Jefferson's abuse on several Blackwell students. He is currently under care at Arcadia Bay Hospital.
And? That's it? No mention that he actually killed Chloe? No mention that he was Jeffershit's assistant? Man, this is bullshit!
She was about to tell Chloe when her friend called her:
"Max, you better come check out these files."
"Found anything?" The brunette asked as she went to stand beside her friend and stooped over to be at her level. Their heads were very close, and a smell caught Max's sensitive nostrils. A scent of citrus, mixed in with Chloe's rather strong pheromones… it was… heady… and nice…
"Max, are you listening?"
"Huh?" Max asked as she shook herself back to reality and met her friend's puzzled look. "Sorry," she said, "wasn't paying attention."
"Yeah, I could see that."
"It's just, uh… you smell good…"
Chloe froze, her mouth half open, and her white cheeks turned a nice rosy hue.
"Uuuh, t-thanks," she mumbled, "I, uh… I washed my hair tonight, before coming. With my favorite shampoo, it's, uh, ci-citrus."
"Yeah, I could smell that. I like it."
There was a moment of silence as they remained this way, staring at each other, half smiling.
"A-Anyway," Chloe eventually said, and reached for the mouse, but in doing so, her fingers brushed Max's hand resting on the desk and they both jolted back. Another silent stare, this one awkward as hell, and then Chloe recovered her composure and resumed:
"So, I was saying, I found a secret folder in that computer. Wells thought it would be smart to hide it deep inside the system files, but it looks like he's never heard of the Search feature. I just had to type in 'Nathan Prescott' to find it. Amateur. But just look at that shit!"
Max took a look at the screen and her mouth slacked in awe. It was… wowser! Memos written by Wells regarding Rachel's complaints about David following her and taking pictures. According to another memo, this was because Nathan had accused Rachel of dealing drugs, so David had started stalking her for proof. And Wells wrote that he didn't believe in Rachel's innocence because of "the company she keeps". Not hard to guess what company he was talking about.
"Nathan accused Rachel of bringing drugs on campus?" Chloe exclaimed. "And my step-troll went along because he thought Rachel was a bad influence on me. Assholes."
"David thought Rachel was a bad influence?"
"Yup. He tried several times to ban her from the house, but Mom put her foot down and said having a new best friend was a great thing for me and he shouldn't interfere. I can at least be grateful to Mom for that. But still, he never liked her. Said he could see through her, she was a two-faced snake, and shit like that."
"That was before," Max replied in an attempt to soothe her. "He's changed now, he knows he made a lot of mistakes. I'm sure he'd see things differently now."
Max knew addressing this topic was like a juggling with chainsaws, as Chloe could flare up in anger on a moment's notice, but luckily, the blue-haired punk decided not to fight her this time:
"If you say so… look, what's that now?"
She opened a couple other files and read aloud:
"'Nathan Prescott the Third.' Ooooh, he's so money! And you know the Prescotts dropped major bank to bury Nathan's real file… Look, it reads like a rap sheet — bad grades, teacher complains, secret probation… But I was expelled?"
Max read along and couldn't believe her eyes: throwing a desk in class; cursing at his English teacher; lighting firecrackers in the bathroom; stealing school supplies; threatening the school custodian; attempted theft of campus "Tobanga" statue?
What kind of asshole would steal our totem?
And none of that appeared on his paper record! How could it be? She kept reading: a proper disciplinary warning report sent to his father. And the answer from his father, written on a header mail with the pretentious Prescott blazon on it complaining about this "outrageous and possibly slanderous letter" and threatening to pull Nathan out of Blackwell and into a "more prestigious, better-funded institution" if he didn't receive a copy of Nathan's expunged file as proof of compliance. And of course, Wells had complied. A 'better-funded institution'? Considering how much money the Prescotts coughed up for Blackwell (the dorm building wasn't named after them for nothing, after all), this wasn't even a veiled threat.
Either you cover up for my son's bullshit, or you go fund yourself!
"The Prescotts always get their money's worth," Max commented. "Check out that note. Open it."
Chloe opened the designated file, and the two girls were treated to a marvelously creepy piece of art, an intricate, H.R. Giger-esque doodle that looked like it had come howling straight out of the dark and twisted depths of a tortured mind.
"That's just some crazy drawing," Chloe said.
"It's not a drawing… look!"
Upon closer inspection, they saw the lines making up the doodle were not line at all… they were words.
"Rachel in the Dark Room," Max read, "Rachel in the Dark Room, over and over again… that's it!"
"That's… fucked up… what does this even mean?"
"It means Wells intercepted this drawing from Nathan before anyone else could see it and buried it in his secret folder. Chlo, we got proof that Wells knew about Rachel and the Dark Room and covered it up! The threats from Prescott… Wells is being blackmailed into keeping his mouth shut! That's why Kate's file doesn't mention anything about the Dark Room! That's why Nathan's file doesn't mention anything about him killing you! What else have you got? Anything about your death? About Jeffershit?"
"I'm on it… there! Plenty of pretty pissed off emails… 'baseless, outlandish accusations'… dude loves his big words! Hey, this one's funny: 'I'm not responsible for your school hiring psychopaths'… yeah, so basically it's all about enforcing his twisted version of the truth and threatening to cut the fundings if Wells doesn't sing to his tune. Thing is, there's nothing really compromising against Prescott. I mean, he never admits to being behind the Dark Room and shit."
"Of course he doesn't, he's too smart for that! But this is all evidence that Prescott has been blackmailing, and possibly bribing Wells, to protect Nathan and ignore the most concerning facts about his actions and his mental health. We definitely got something against both of them here!"
"Yup, now all we need to do is confront this man-sized bottle of whisky and make him spill!"
"Yeah, uh… I'm not really sure about that."
"What? Why? You said we got what we need against him!"
"Chloe, he's still my Principal! I can't just threaten him and make him talk!"
"He doesn't need to know it's us, we can wear masks."
"No, Chloe, I don't like it. I don't want to make any rash decisions, not after what Lacroix told me today."
"Still beating yourself up about this? Fuck that frog!"
"But he was right! We haven't been exactly subtle so far, maybe it's time to do things a little more discreetly. A little more ninja-style, you see?"
Chloe frowned and crossed her arms, looking not too enthralled about this.
"So what do you suggest?"
As an answer, Max took a flash drive out of her pocket and said: "First, we copy everything we have here. Then we organize it all, make it look like a solid case, and then we give it to the cops. There's solid stuff in there, they can't ignore it!"
"The cops? After you fed on that dirty pig this morning? Max, there are bent cops in town, how can you be sure one of them ain't gonna get his dirty paws on our file and bury it?"
"Crap, you're right… oh wait, I know a cop we can trust!"
"Oh yeah? Who?"
"Officer Berry."
"Berry? That useless donut gobbler? Dude, he spends more time at Two Whales than out on the streets!"
"I don't know about that, but I've seen his email exchange with David. He's one of the good guys, Chlo, trust me on that."
Chloe remained with her arms crossed for a while, pondering on it while pretending to sulk in typical Chloe Price fashion, until she sighed and said:
"Okay, we'll play it your way, BatMax. But if it doesn't work, we're so fucking beating a confession outta Wells."
Then she grabbed the flash drive and proceeded with the file transfer.
"We got our info," she declared once this was done, "let's bail. But maybe we shouldn't leave without a gift…"
Max rolled her eyes: "No, you are not taking the cozy chair."
"Max, do our vampire powers include mind-reading? Cause you're definitely gonna have to teach me that!"
"It's the power of best friendship. I know how you roll. Okay, let's get out of here before someone sees us."
"Who could be seeing us in the middle of the night?" Chloe asked as she stood up and casually opened the top drawer of the desk. Her eyes sparkled at the very, very pleasant surprise she found in it.
"Hullo, what have we here? Holy shit, jackpot! Cha-ching!"
She raised the item to inspect it more closely, and for Max to see it too. An envelope, chock-a-block with banknotes, and bearing the mention "Handicapped Fund".
"Wowser," Max commented, "that's a lot for the 'handicapped fund'."
"Dude, there's five thousand dollars here," Chloe declared after a quick count. Then she gave Max a pleading puppy-eyed look. The brunette cocked an eyebrow:
"You really want to take money from the handicapped fund?"
"Dude, have you ever seen a single ramp on campus? Wells couldn't give less of a shit about the handicapped, and who keeps their handicapped fund in cash, in an envelope in their desk? This is bribe money or my name isn't Chloe Price! So, maybe we could put it to better use if we, uh, 'borrowed' it…"
She kept her puppy eyes. At first, Max wanted to stand firm but then, something in what Chloe said lit a spark in her mind.
"Holy shit," she shouted, "Chloe, you're right!"
"About what?"
"If it really is bribe money, then it's another piece of evidence! We keep it, but we can't spend it yet! We gotta keep it intact for the investigation!"
"Oh… okay," Chloe mumbled, visibly disappointed at this turn of events. She'd thought she could buy herself and Max a shitload of rounds at the club, later tonight, and stock up on weed for the rest of the year, but, well… Max was right. As always. Sensible Max. Don't tamper with evidence until all the bad guys are in jail. Got it.
They misted out of the office, then out of the building, and once they had reformed on the stairs, Chloe suddenly turned to Max with a funny look in her eyes, shuffling on her feet like… Max sighed. Like Young Chloe, back when she'd suggested a wine-tasting session that had resulted in a permanent stain on Joyce's carpet and them being grounded for a week. Yeah, that look.
"That impish look scares me," she commented.
"Care for a midnight swim? The Blackwell pool is ours."
"Swimming? You want to take that risk now?"
"It's been a cray week, we deserve a little mindless fun in the water… We're done for the night anyway, we took all we needed to take, nobody busted us, might as well kick back for a few minutes before we go clubbing… So, splish splash?"
Max pondered. This was dangerous. Yeah, this was really pushing their luck. But Chloe looked so eager! She'd be so disappointed if Max said no, she'd call her a killjoy for the rest of her life for sure! And a vampire's life was hella long!
"You're right, we hella deserve it! Splish splash!"
Chloe's face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. She gave Max an unexpected peck on the cheek to thank her, and before Max could recover from the surprise, the blue-haired punk was already running for the swimming pool, screaming:
"Last one at the door is hella gay!"
Max rolled her eyes. "We're both hella gay, dumbass!"
Warren checked his phone. Half past midnight. Brooke was supposed to be here already. He shivered as he put his phone back in his pocket. Not from the cold, though the air was chilly, but he felt nervous, real nervous. Standing beside the fountain, he cast an anxious glance at the school building looming over him. Was he really going to do this? Warren wasn't exactly an angel, but so far, his criminal activity had remained strictly in cyberspace. Movie, music and game piracy? Hell yeah! Some devious but not so harmful hacking? Sure! Actually breaking and entering into his own school? Now that was a first! He often boasted about knowing how to pick locks and build bombs, but it wasn't like he had ever actually meant to do it!
Brooke wasn't like that, though. Brooke was dead serious about it, and it made no doubt she was willing to do everything it took to further their investigation. Those crazy things she made him do! Come to think of it, she was a little scary. And exciting. And scary.
But mostly exciting.
Where the hell was she anyway?
He was about to take his phone and give her a call, when he gasped as he felt a hand grab his arm from behind and pull him back so suddenly he tripped, and before he knew it he was trapped in a hold with his right arm in a vise-like grip and his attacker's other arm wrapped around his throat.
"Name, rank, and mission objective!" the attacker whispered in a commanding tone.
Warren tried to wriggle free, to no avail. He couldn't see the attacker's face, behind him. All he could make out was a camo sleeve on the arm that held his throat.
"What the fuck man!" he groaned, indignant and scared, and eventually, the attacker released him.
He quickly paced a step forward to put himself out of reach before he turned around to contemplate the mysterious assailant: as the camo sleeve hinted at, it was a soldier, albeit a short and slender guy, decked in fatigues and combat boots and wearing a dark green balaclava that concealed his face. And… and glasses over the hood.
"Who…" Warren whispered, overwhelmed with confusion. "Who the fuck are you?"
And to add to his confusion, the soldier laughed. A high-pitched laugh. A girl's voice.
"Holy shit, Ren, you should've seen your face! Gold!"
He frowned. No fucking way it was…
"Brooke?"
"Surprised much?" she teased as she lifted up her hood so he could see it was her indeed. "I said ninja clothing, didn't I?"
Yes, she'd said that. And that was why he'd chosen to wear black jeans, a black sweater, the darkest shoes he owned and a black beanie. The perfect amateur burglar starter pack. But her choice of clothing was… damn, the next level!
"How the fuck did you get yourself a goddamn special forces gear?"
"Oh, that?" she giggled as she looked at herself. "Just my airsoft outfit. Thought it would be fitting. All genuine military surplus."
"You do airsoft?"
"Yeah, sometimes. Why?"
"Oh, nothing, just… it's cool…"
She's as much of a geek as I am, if not more, and she does airsoft? Is she really the coolest girl in the world?
"I totally scared you," she snickered.
"What? No you didn't! I was… I was surprised, that's all!"
"Yeah, right, you totally wet yourself. 'What the fuck man!' That was so cute!"
And before he could retort something, she had planted a kiss on his lips and was already on her way to the front door. He shook himself out of his state of shock and paced to join her.
"Are we really gonna do this?" he asked, anxious. "You're not afraid of… you know, trouble?"
She shrugged: "Trouble for what?"
"Well, it's breaking-and-entering, if we get caught that will look awful on our records…"
"I know what I'm doing, Ren," she retorted as she took out her electronic lockpick and gave him a devious smile as she added: "After all, it's not breaking if we don't break anything. We're just entering."
And she opened the door. With her toy, she made quick work of the other locks and soon, they were both standing in the middle of Wells's office.
"Not even a single alarm?" she scoffed. "Real amateurs in that fucking school…we should tell Wells and Madsen how easily we got in, so they can hire us as white hats to test their security."
Warren had a start as he stared at her with wide eyes and asked: "Seriously?"
She giggled: "Of course not, silly! You're so tensed you can't even get a joke, relax!"
She took him in her arms as she uttered these words and then kissed him tenderly. He kissed her back, tightening his embrace, feeling his heart pond in his chest, his fingers tremble, his cheeks grow red hot.
"That big ugly chair looks really comfy for a make-out session, what do you think?" she whispered in his ear.
He gulped audibly, overwhelmed by an inner conflict between arousal and cautiousness.
"I, uh…" he mumbled. "Wha-what if we get caught?"
"You're right," she said matter-of-factly as she broke the embrace, the magic of the moment gone from her eyes. "Sensible as always, aren't we? Too bad."
For a second the poor boy wondered if he hadn't made a mistake. He was about to tell her he'd changed his mind, but before he could open his mouth she said, all business again:
"I'm gonna browse those cabinets, you go and check the computer, cowboy!"
"Hum… yeah, right. I'm on it!"
And while she went to work, opening one drawer after another, the boy sat in the chair (it was real comfy indeed) and took the flash drive where he had stored his icebreaker software. He turned on the computer.
"Huh? Weird…" he commented.
"What?"
"Looks like we ain't gonna need the icebreaker tonight. The session hasn't been closed properly."
"Oh?" she shrugged. "Not too surprising, old guys like Wells aren't known to be cybersecurity geniuses. Like my dad! He keeps his password written on a sticky note on his goddamn screen all the time, in case he forgets it! Ugh! Everytime I see this I change his password to teach him a lesson, then he's careful for like, two weeks, but the sticky notes always end up reappearing! Makes me mad!"
Warren chuckled: "Same with my mom! But… wait!" he frowned. "That's… strange…"
"What?"
"Just checked for the hell of it, last access was… 10 minutes ago?"
"10 minutes ago? Impossible, Wells's house is right next to the dorm, we would've run into him!"
"Unless he didn't go home… shit, you think he's still in the building?"
They both felt ice run down their spines at this prospect.
"No," Brooke reasoned, "I'm pretty sure there's no one here but us, we weren't exactly ninja silent and nobody heard us. It's empty, I'm sure of it."
"Maybe… I still don't like that…"
"Me neither… let's just hurry, okay?"
"Sure… what the hell is that?"
"What now?"
"I checked the last files accessed. It's… fucking creepy shit…"
"Show me?" Brooke asked as she came to stand beside him and looked at the screen. Her mouth slacked in awe. "Da fuck?"
"Yeah, it looks like Wells kept a secret file on Nathan on his computer… check this shit out! Erratic behavior, vandalism… I never saw him get even a single hour of detention!"
"Well it looks Daddy Prescott threw money at Wells to make sure all of that was left buried… check out these creepy drawings…"
"But who could've accessed these files ten minutes ago?"
As if to answer, a sudden gust of wind outside shook the windows behind them, startling them. Realizing this was just the wind did little to ease their tension, and they remained frozen for a while, holding their breath, their pulse ponding, their senses acute, eagerly listening for any sign of someone coming. But there was no-one. Just the two of them, alone, surrounded by a dark, eerie silence.
Brooke shook her head: "I dunno… look, copy all this shit, we never know. And let's find what we were looking for and get the fuck out of there. Place is giving me the creeps."
"Yeah, me too…"
"We're in the Otters' lair," Max commented as they reformed inside the pool building. The entrance hallway was short, ending in two doors on either side, leading to the changing rooms, plus a third door in the middle leading to the lifeguard station. It was also pretty dark, which was no big deal with their night vision.
"Big fucking deal," Chloe snorted. "I want the heated water!"
"We still have to play it cool, okay?" Max warned. "I still go to school here."
Chloe scoffed: "You can own this hellhole with your vampire powers! Tonight, we're the Queens of Blackwell, and no-one can fucking stop us!"
She walked to the end of the corridor and turned, flinging her arms out wide.
"Boys or girls?" she asked.
Max cocked an eyebrow at that. "Seriously? Like you don't know the answer to that!"
Chloe winked at her, and misted under the girls' room. Max followed, and they didn't bother making a stop inside the changing room, instead flowing straight through it to reform on the edge of the pool itself.
"Let me check to see if the pool's heated," Chloe ordered as she squatted to put her hand in the water. "In the meantime, try to find the lights."
"We don't need the lights to see, Chlo."
"I know that, but it looks nicer with the lights. I want to see the sharks!"
"Otters don't like sharks. They bite."
"So do I," she laughed. "Hit that light!"
With an eye-roll, the brunette walked into the lifeguard station. She realized Chloe was being a little bossy and her carelessness could get them in trouble, but at the same time, she had that look of childlike excitement in her eyes! She looked really psyched for their girls' night out. So she thought, maybe follow her evil plan for tonight, if it can make her happy?
She eventually found the switch on the blue control board, on one of the walls of the cramped station, and flicked it on. A lovely blue light illuminated the pool, and Chloe yelped in joy as she promptly started stripping. When Max returned to the edge of the pool, her friend was already paddling merrily, wearing nothing but her black bra and black and orange panties with a tropical sunset impression on them.
"Oh yeah baby!" She moaned. "Feels like a hot tub!"
Max gazed at her, spellbound. Chloe she was… such a dazzling sight! So carefree, so full of energy, of life! She had noticed the night before, when her punk friend started air-guitaring around Lacroix's place, how much just looking at her could brighten her day. But here, the feeling was even more intense, because… well, because there was much less clothing involved, and… and she was so hot! She hadn't seen her in her underwear in five years, and back then, they were young and innocent, but now, as she contemplated her best friend's body, the body of a grown woman, she realized how perfectly slender her belly was, not to mention her endless, smooth legs, and her boobs, just the size that she liked! Her pulse started ponding faster as a strange warmth grew in the pit of her stomach, down to her loins, a warmth which she realized with utter embarrassment was the warmth of desire.
Wowser!
Perving on your best friend again?
I can't help, she's gorgeous!
I know, but you have a girlfriend now, who's just as gorgeous!
Yeah, you're right. Bad Max, bad!
"Tell me you're not going to stand there watching me like a zombie," Chloe said, shaking her out of her trance.
Max smiled awkwardly, hoping she was not blushing too hard. Chloe splashed her with water.
"Don't you dare!" Max protested with giggles as she vainly looked away and raised her hands for protection.
"Come stop me, hippie!"
"Okay, you asked for it!"
She turned around to strip, and as she took off her jeans, she looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of Chloe staring at her with a hungry look in her eyes. The young punk looked swiftly away, blushing, as soon as she saw Max look at her. Max smiled to herself, her face burning up, the warm and fuzzy feeling in her belly growing in intensity.
You asked for it. I know this whole midnight swim thing was just an excuse to see me in my underwear. So, like what you see, Captain?
As soon as she was done, the brunette turned back and jumped into the water, screaming:
"Cowabunga!"
"Holy fuck!" Chloe howled with laughter. "This must be the dorkiest battlecry in the world!"
"Yup, and it's mine and I'm proud," Max retorted. "So don't laugh!"
"Why, look… an otter in my water! Duuuuun dun, duuuuun dun! Dun dun dun…"
Humming the Jaws theme, she started swimming toward Max with an evil grin on her face.
"You're so obvious," Max giggled nervously as she splashed water at her to stop her. "And I still get freaked out by that movie, so stop! I can't even watch any of those shark shows!"
"Oooh, big scary vampire is afraid of fish?"
"So what? Is big scary punk vampire still afraid of clowns?"
"Don't you dare!" she protested loudly but good-naturedly. "There are no clowns, clowns do not exist, okay?"
They kept laughing and splashing each other for a while, Max starting to unwind and really enjoy herself. Fucking around in the water with her Captain… how could she be any happier?
Eventually, Chloe relaxed and lay down, floating on her back, staring at the ceiling. Max contemplated her, meditating on her peaceful face, her features highlighted by the blue radiance from the water below that blended so well with her blue hair… blue light upon light blue… she looked like a mermaid.
Then she followed, and the two girls lay together, letting the water carry them in blissful silence.
"I wish Rachel was here," Chloe murmured. "She would totally love being here at night. Wish you guys had met each other…"
Max felt a sting in her heart at these words.
Rachel again? Looks like we can't enjoy anything together without her ghost looming over us… wish I had my Captain all to myself. Like in the good old days…
You weren't there for her, Max. You weren't there, and she was. You gotta respect that. Even if it hurts.
"Chloe?" she asked.
"Mmh?"
"Rachel, she was… she was your girlfriend?"
Chloe closed her eyes and remained still for so long Max was growing nervous, and was about to apologize for asking, when the blue-haired girl opened them again, and Max caught a single tear run down her cheek and into the water.
"She was," Chloe murmured, her voice choked with grief. "She was and she wasn't. It was… complicated."
Max had to fight back the sense of despair, of inner emptiness, that these words had inspired in her. That was all she needed to know. Not only the words, but the tone in which she'd uttered those, that tone of longing… it was obvious. Chloe loved her. With all her heart and soul. And she probably always would.
I wish I hadn't been such an idiot. If we'd stayed in touch, maybe…
"Rachel and I," Chloe continued, interrupting Max's thoughts, "we had a… a punk rock relationship, you could say. It was chaos, total chaos. I think she wasn't even sure herself of what she was, I mean if she was gay, bi or straight, she seemed to be constantly changing… most of the time, I didn't understand her at all. It was like she was totally different persons. You know," she chuckled nostalgically, "before we, like, officially met, we already knew each other in passing. I mean, I knew who was Rachel Amber, the Queen of Blackwell, the sweetest, most beautiful, most popular, most flawless girl on the whole campus. But I wouldn't even imagine she'd acknowledged my existence at all. After all, I was just… Chloe Price, Blackwell's resident trashfire, proud owner of the worst rap sheet in the school's history… we were on totally different galaxies."
"So how did you guys meet?"
"Firewalk."
"You mean the band?"
"Yeah. They played a gig at the old mill. I managed to weasel my way in, no way I'd miss that! So I was there, having the time of my life, when a couple of assholes came at me because I'd spilled beer on one of them. I acted like a total dick, I mean, maybe if I'd apologized it wouldn't have escalated that badly, I dunno, but I didn't take them seriously, I insulted the shit out of them, and by the time I found out these two really meant business, it was too late for poor old me. One of them had a broken bottle and he was totally gonna stab me, I saw it in his eyes. I remember this moment so clearly, all my life flashed before my eyes, and, like, eighty percent of it was time spent with you and I thought, if only she hadn't left me…"
"Crap, I'm so-"
"Sorry, yes I know. But chill out, there's no hard feelings there, I'm just telling a story. Anyway, so I thought my time had come when this awesome punk chick appeared out of nowhere to save me like the fucking Batman! You should've seen her then, all leather and studs and ripped stockings and jewels and the most awesome hairstyle I've ever seen, that imagine remains burned in my retina to this day! She grabbed my hand and swiped my ass away from them, and then, as I took a better look at her, I realized my savior was none other than Rachel Fucking Amber."
"Wowser!"
"You can say that," Chloe laughed. "I was like, dude, is this really happening? Or is this some kind of dream where I've landed in another reality in which the Queen of Blackwell is actually a rockstar? We enjoyed the rest of the show together, and we drank… I woke up the next morning in my room, hungover, still thinking I'd hallucinated all this shit, but when I showed up at Blackwell this day and I ran into her, she drew me into her world like she was a goddamn gravity well I couldn't escape from. The next three days were… unreal… I got expelled cause she got me to skip classes with her, then we got on stage together to play The Tempest, found out her mother wasn't her real mother, got into some real sketchy shit with Frank's pal Damon Merrick, and started the worst forest fire Oregon has seen in fifty years."
"Wow, wow, wow, hold on there," Max called out, overwhelmed by all this crazy-ass information. "The fire? From three years ago? It was you?"
"Yeah," Chloe chuckled. "Ain't too proud of this one, to be honest, but we totally didn't mean it! I still don't understand what the fuck happened, Rach was pissed at her dad, she set a trash bin on fire, and then she, like, screamed and suddenly the whole grove went ablaze, it was insane! I had a moment there when I seriously thought she had superpowers, like in Firestarter, you remember that movie?"
"Yeah, I remember… daaamn…"
"You're hella right. Daaaamn… you know, come to think of it, now we know vampires exist, I wonder if it means other creatures exist… like werewolves, or witches. Maybe Rachel was a witch who had no idea she was?"
"You think so?"
"I dunno… maybe it's stupid… but that would explain how that fire caught on so quick…"
"You definitely have to tell me about the rest of it. Like, she had a fake mother? And you got a part in a play? That's a story I wanna hear!"
"Maybe later," Chloe chuckled, "cause it's a hella long story. And you may not like the play part. It... it's not one of your girlfriend's best moments…"
"Oh…"
"Yeah… anyway, all of that to tell you how… intense things got between us real quick. After those three days, we were inseparable, for better or for worse. We…" she made a pause and gently caressed her lips with the tips of her fingers, smiling at this reminiscence. "We first kissed after the play. Then we, like, officially got together a few days afterward. And then we broke up because she believed she preferred guys after all… we got into a really big fight, I thought our friendship was over. But we got back together. And broke up again. And rinse and repeat. Sometimes we'd break up over the pettiest things, just because a little something didn't go her way and she'd blow it out of proportions. Like that time she ripped me a new one because the truck had issues and it got us ten minutes late for a gig! But then we'd patch up the next day, or sometimes just a couple hours later. I know," she added swiftly before Max could make a comment. "I know, it wasn't the healthiest relationship in the world, I got that from Mom and Stepdouche often enough. Especially Stepdouche. Mom had a soft spot for Rach. I guess she understood how we worked. That no matter how badly we'd fight, we'd always end up together at the end of the day, because we needed each other. I was in a very bad place, with you and Dad gone, and a step-führer I hated and no idea what I'd do with my life, and she also had her crappy family to deal with… we were there to lick each other's wounds. And it was all that mattered. She was my angel. And I was hers."
A heavy, thoughtful silence fell upon the two girls. Max looked at her friend, and noticed how close her hand was to hers. She grabbed it and gave it a strong, reassuring squeeze. Surprised by the touch, Chloe turned to her.
"I'll be here for you now," Max murmured. "I promise."
"I hope… I hope you will," Chloe answered as she squeezed back. "After losing you once, and losing her… I couldn't stand losing you again."
"You won't. Everything's different now. We're strong, we own this town. Our power is changing everything."
"Especially you, Max," Chloe chortled. "I can already tell. You're not so chickenshit anymore."
Max smiled and rolled her eyes. Now this was Chloe's way of signaling mushy time was officially over! She withdrew her hand and swam to the pool border, where she stood crossing her arms on the edge.
"Thanks, girlfriend," she replied snarkily.
"You know what I mean," Chloe said more seriously as she joined her on the edge. "You've become like this force of nature. What we're living here, together, it wouldn't have been possible without you."
Max sighed.
"You don't agree?" Chloe asked.
"It's not that, it's just… I'm afraid of fucking this up. I've been a vampire for only a few days and already, I almost got caught by Kate, Warren and Brooke are on my ass for whatever reason, we've yet to find an excuse for you to suddenly being not dead anymore, and there's the matter of having to tell Victoria if things get serious between us. Life is… complicated."
"You'll figure this out," Chloe nudged her. "Or we will together. After all, you didn't fuck up when you brought me back."
Max smiled: "Of course I didn't, you were my goal along. You know what I think? That what we're living her, together… it wouldn't have been possible without you. You make me feel like I know what I'm doing."
"And you make me feel like I have a reason to be alive again."
"I hope so…"
"Stop being so goddamn humble. You're like the smartest, most talented person I've ever known."
"More than Rachel Amber?"
"Dude, I'm not her groupie, okay?" Chloe snapped back, which made Max wince.
Kudos, you fucking moron! Now you made her angry!
"Sorry," she whispered sheepishly. "It was wrong, saying that, it was… insensitive."
"No worries," Chloe answered, softening. "What I meant was, once you get over yourself, you're going to make the world bow."
"As long as you're there with me…" Max sighed longingly.
"Don't look so sad! I'm never leaving you! We're connected now, it's the Vampire Pirates against the world!"
Max chuckled: "I like the sound of that."
"Now that's better," Chloe teased, "you're cuter when you smile."
Max replied to that with a splash of water and a good-natured "Moron!" which made Chloe giggle. Then Max pushed herself back toward the center of the pool to swim a bit more, Chloe following suit.
"Now I'm getting cold in here," she complained.
As an answer, Chloe gave her a big splash that made her protest loudly, and said:
"That's because we're yapping instead of attacking each other, otter vs shark style!"
The brunette giggled as she retaliated.
"That's it!" Chloe claimed playfully. "Come at me, hippie!"
Max did. She lunged and tried to grab her, but her arms closed on thin air and she sank pitifully, and when she returned to the surface, Chloe was mocking from the other end of the pool.
"Flickering is cheating!" Max shouted.
"Shut up and catch me if you can, slowpoke!"
Okay, you'll see what the slowpoke's made of!
Resolved to teach her devious friend a lesson, she launched herself like a torpedo at the blue-haired girl, who squealed in delight as she started swimming away from her.
"Gotcha!" Brooke let out, making Warren jump in his seat.
"What?" he asked.
"Lacroix's employment record!" she announced, excited, as she came to stand beside her boyfriend and lay the file open on the desk.
"Lacroix, Sébastien Hubert Félix," he read. "Born April 14th 1972 in Nogent-le-Rotrou, France. Place of residence: 10, Washington Street, Arcadia Bay, OR… there's his social security number, copies of his degrees, a copy of his Green Card, everything! Good job, Bee!"
"Thank you. And did you notice his ID picture is the exact same photo we've found all over the Internet? When I told you that guy was fake! Now we just need to borrow it and we'll fact-check every single detail to prove it."
"Borrow it?" he asked, growing nervous at the prospect of actually stealing something.
"Of course, it will take hours to check everything, we can't do it here."
"But what if Wells notices it's missing?"
"He won't notice a thing! How often do you think he actually reads these records? Relax, it won't be gone for long anyway, once we're done with it we can just come back another night and put it back."
And without giving him time to answer anything, she put the file in her backpack.
"What did you get?" she then asked.
"Not much. Wells's emails with the Chases, where they suggest Lacroix to him, and his emails with Lacroix himself to discuss his employment… it all looks like pretty mundane stuff."
"Copy it all anyway. We never know what could come in handy, I don't wanna miss a thing."
"Gotcha."
Once they were done, they quietly exited the office, careful to lock the door behind them. Then they exited the building itself, and once Brooke had finished locking the door, she turned to her boyfriend and began shuffling on her feet, with a sly smirk on her face. Warren frowned.
"That impish look scares me," he said.
In response, she waved her lockpick and asked: "Care for a midnight swim? The Blackwell pool is ours!"
The boy's mind blanked. He wasn't expecting that at all.
"A-a-a-re you s-s-serious?" he stuttered.
She nodded deviously. "Of course. We're in the middle of a seriously twisted and potentially dangerous investigation, we don't know where this will take us, so we might as well have some fun while we still can. So… splish-splash?"
Warren had to struggle hard to contain his sudden excitement. His heart started ponding like crazy, his mouth going dry, as thoughts raced through his mind, out of control:
Dude! She wants to have a midnight swim with you.
Alone.
Just the two of us in a heated pool in the middle of the night. Almost naked.
Dude, do you realize what this means?
Yeah, dude. She wants it.
Holy shit she wants it! She wants it!
Finally regaining a semblance of control over his body, he nodded eagerly, swallowed hard, and uttered:
"Hell yeah. Splish-splash!"