Monday.
Rachel Amber had been in the hospital for five days by this point, and it was not without difficulty. She was placed in the general ward after being woken up from her coma on early Saturday morning, leaving her confused and immensely scared. She couldn't remember much, but recalled the moment several nurses stood around her pulling out all of these different tubes and wires attached to her. It felt like she was choking. The walls were closing in on her. Rachel was alone.
It wasn't unusual for her to be in this type of predicament, because she often felt alone, even if she didn't show it. But being alone in a hospital and not even knowing how you were brought there was scary, to say the least. The only thing she could do was stare at the blank wall ahead of her, listening to the subtle beeps of the heart monitor by her head. In a way, it was comforting. The electronic noises were providing a sense of relief from her inner thoughts wanting to take over, questioning everything. She didn't even know where to start.
On late Saturday night, the same day she was woken from her coma, a nurse came into the room to do the regular hourly check-ins. She asked the routine questions to Rachel, asking her name, if she knew where she was, and other basic information. However, this time was different. When the nurse sat down next to Rachel, she had a different demeanor. The nurse had several papers in her lap, all filled with words and charts. It made Rachel slightly nervous.
"Hey, Rachel." The nurse placed her hand on the rail next to the bed, "It looks like you're conscious enough to understand some rather important information, so if you are ready, we can proceed." She pointed to the stack of paper laying against her legs, hands tightly gripped around the edges making it crinkle.
Rachel didn't have much to go against, and she was still so confused about everything, so extra information of any kind seemed refreshing. She nodded and the nurse began.
"On Thursday morning, we had two girls come in with you…Chloe Price and Max Caulfield. Do you recognize these names at all?"
The nurse patiently waited as Rachel was beginning to answer. "Yeah," She started to smile, "I do recognize those names."
"I would hope so," The nurse smiled back, looking down at the interview notes where Chloe had indicated that Rachel was her girlfriend, "Your girlfriend was very worried about you, Rachel. You're lucky to have her."
Rachel froze, almost choking on the lump forming in her throat. Girlfriend? She didn't know what to say. It wasn't a terrible misjudgment, nor was it entirely incorrect, but the only thing she knew was that Chloe was going to pay for it later. "Where is she?"
"She left Thursday for…disorderly conduct." The nurse looked back down, referring to the paper, "But rest assured, she has been contacted since then. Everything is going to be alright, Rachel. You have made significant progress since being woken up, and we will do whatever we can to care for you."
Disorderly conduct. Chloe and Max. Girlfriend. Thursday. Coma.
Rachel nodded, too busy thinking to answer the nurse in a complete sentence. The nurse continued going down the sheets of paper, reading off every medical event that took place over the past three days, explaining what Rachel had just gone through. It was overwhelming and frightening. Even if the nurse just said all of that about Chloe, it didn't make Rachel feel any better. She was still alone in the hospital, only talking to nurses. And she didn't even have her phone. Where was her phone?
Sunday.
Dr. Anderson and another nurse came into the room. Rachel recognized nearly all of the nurses in the hospital by this point. Some were nicer than others, but they were all just doing their job. Her doctor, Dr. Anderson, was the same doctor that helped Rachel when she was fifteen and was stabbed by Damon Merrick. It was relieving to see recognizable faces again. Rachel watched as the nurse approached her, carrying a clipboard and sitting down in a chair next to her to begin the hourly questions.
"Name?"
Rachel greeted the nurse warmly, smiling. "Rachel Amber." The first couple of times she was asked this question, it was not only confusing, but extremely disorientating. Luckily, the staff at the hospital were more than kind, giving Rachel all the time in the world to adapt to being conscious again.
The nurse crossed it off on the paper attached to the clipboard, and looked back up at Rachel. "And do you know where you live?"
"Here. In Arcadia Bay."
"Okay." The nurse crossed it out, then pulled out a laminated paper to hold up. "Can you point to which face represents your mood today?"
The laminated paper had simply drawn smiley faces ranging from green, happy, to red, mad. Rachel was feeling a lot of emotions by this point, mostly an intense loneliness that was creeping inside of her, growing into an enormous beast she couldn't hold back much longer. She missed everyone, maybe some more than others, but it was incredibly strange that not one person mentioned anything more to her other than Chloe and Max bringing her there.
"Great." The nurse looked a little apprehensive, but put the paper back underneath the clipboard. It seemed to have gotten stuck, making the nurse nearly rip the paper, whispering numerous curse words under her breath. It was low effort entertainment for Rachel, but it would do. "How are you feeling today?
A loud beep from another machine went off, distracting Rachel for a moment.
"Better than ever." She said it jokingly, and hoped the nurse would take a little humor that day.
The nurse smiled in return. "Any pain or discomfort?"
"No, I'm just…tired." Rachel looked around, still searching the room for her belongings. She wouldn't let the thought go for a second.
"That's to be expected. I'll talk to Dr. Anderson and see if I can adjust your medication." At that point, the nurse was about to stand up, but Rachel stopped her before she could.
"Wait–Do you…know where my stuff is? Like my phone?"
The nurse stopped and thought for a moment, just as Dr. Anderson was walking over to join the conversation. He was previously adjusting the IV and other things Rachel had no idea what they were for. "You didn't have anything on you. I can certainly go check with the front desk if you'd like?"
"That would be great. Thank you."
The doctor and nurse left the room, only to quickly return to explain that Rachel didn't arrive with any of her belongings. It was frustrating, to say the least, because if someone was trying to contact her, she wouldn't have known it. Rachel felt a sense of emptiness wash over her. She was alone in a strange place with no one to turn to for help, other than the various nurses that stopped in. She had no phone, no wallet, no identification. She was completely isolated and helpless from the outside world.
Distant birds chirped outside the open window, with the early afternoon sun peeking in through the white blinds. Rachel lay in the hospital bed, still in the same place she had been in for almost a week now. Throughout the time she was awake, she had formed some pretty good friendships with the nurses there, and it helped that they were constantly in and out of her room. Since she didn't have her phone or anyone else to talk to, having conversations with the nurses outside of medical talk was nice. Sometimes they would joke around or talk about drama happening in the hospital. Other times they would all complain about what terribly processed food was being served in the cafeteria that day.
Rachel had just gotten her IV bag refilled, when suddenly she heard loud thumping footsteps urgently walking down the hallway. They were only getting closer and closer to her door until they stopped. She was holding her breath, almost like she subconsciously knew who it was. A voice was heard, then the door opened. It was James and Rose Amber.
Nearly a week had passed since Rachel was admitted to the hospital, and despite everything, her parents showed up late. It was like they didn't even care.
They walked into the room, noticing Rachel laying on the bed, and the only person who seemed the slightest concerned was Rose. She walked over to Rachel, putting her hand on her arm, but still didn't say a word. James was nearly avoiding Rachel, first looking out the window, then briefly examining the paperwork that lay nearby. Something was going on.
Breaking the uncomfortable silence, Rachel spoke up. "Dad?" That seemed to get his attention. "What are you guys doing here?"
James didn't answer. In one ear, out the other. He tried to avoid any efforts his daughter made. He was only in Arcadia Bay for one reason anyways, and it wasn't whatever Rachel had gotten herself into this time.
"We…" Rose looked over at James, hoping he would add into the conversation, but didn't, "...We were in Long Beach and got a phone call about a pending case here that needed to be taken care of immediately. We didn't realize you were in the hospital."
Rachel just shook her head, incredibly frustrated. "So you only visited me because of his job ?"
"Yes, you did hear that correctly, Rachel." James turned around and faced his daughter. The look on his face could kill. "And I just read that you were hospitalized for a drug overdose. Is that what you've become now? An addict who's throwing her life away just for a quick fix? If I would've known you would turn out to be like Sera, I would've sent–"
Rose quickly interrupted him, cutting him off. "James."
Clearly Rachel's parents had talked about something before. They both knew something she didn't.
"Send me where , exactly?" Rachel sat up, straining her voice. After everything she had gone through the past few days, now her parents show up without a care in the world? It was bullshit.
"A rehab program for troubled teens ." James bent over at the end of the bed, looking Rachel dead in the eyes, "Where they take you away to a camp and—"
Rachel's heart sank. "—What the fuck?! And when were you planning on doing that?"
The room felt stuffy. Constricting. Everything felt so hot, yet ice cold at the same time. Rachel's father had just admitted that he was looking at sending his daughter to a program for troubled teens. One's that weren't talked about much on the news, but for people who could pay, they knew all about them.
Rachel didn't know much about these programs. If anything, it was the first she had heard about it. But the mere fact that her own parents thought about sending her away to get help, instead of actually taking the time to help her , was so upsetting, she wished they would just get out of the room. Maybe the nurses weren't so bad anyway.
"That was years ago. You're an adult now, so you must be responsible for your actions. This being one of them."
Rachel had so much to say. If she could just rip out her IV and start a huge fight with her dad, she would have. Her relationship with James was extremely strained, only getting worse as she had gotten older. Everything that she knew and grew to love about her dad was thrown away when Chloe told her the truth years ago. Her dad was a lying cheater. Her mom, Rose, wasn't even her real mom. Rachel had to live with the fact that she was living a lie her entire life, and had no one to talk to about it. She couldn't. She never tried to bring it up with Chloe, and instead continued living a lie that everything in her life was perfect. Though, it was far from that. Rachel got involved more in school, became invested in the Vortex Club, and hung out with shadier people. She got involved in drugs, more than just a little marijuana, and it affected her deeply throughout the years—which was starting to become noticeably apparent to her, since she was just hospitalized for a drug overdose. She really had gone too far this time.
Just then, another nurse came in, disrupting the heated conversation and notified the Ambers that Rachel was going to be discharged from the hospital later that day. It was unexpected to all three of them, but her parents didn't seem happy with the news—now having to carve out extra time to take care of their daughter, which would only take away time from the actual reason they were in Arcadia Bay. The three were all visibly annoyed.
Paperwork was given and the room went silent, apart from pen clicks and subtle writing. Rachel sat up in the hospital bed, watching the nurses begin to unhook everything around her. It was relieving that her time at the hospital was coming to an end, since now she could start to live her life again, whatever that meant. She wasn't too sure what she was going to do anyway. She had nobody. The thought was rather depressing to think about.
Nearly an hour had passed. Prescriptions and packets of information were given to the Ambers, and Rachel was placed in a wheelchair to be sent out of the hospital. Her whole body was weak. She hadn't moved in days, not even slightly, and she could feel everything becoming more sore. She shook her head, thinking at the fact that she brought this all upon herself. If anything, the entire time spent at the hospital was cathartic for Rachel, teaching her lessons she probably wouldn't have learned if she had not gone. It was nobody's fault other than her own—or that's at least what she chose to believe—and if she wanted a decent shot at a better future, she needed to get her shit together. Fast.
The parking lot at the bottom of the lighthouse, near the beachfront, was almost completely empty besides Chloe's truck. The piece of rust on wheels was shining brightly against the harsh late afternoon sun. There was a little breeze passing through the air, providing the signature beach feel with the distant seagulls chattering away.
For the past two weeks, Chloe was reluctant to go near the lighthouse after everything that had happened, and Max could see why. The two avoided the place like the plague, resulting in staying either at Chloe's house or making a few trips to the diner. Anywhere else seemed too far.
Although, Max was starting to get restless. Her anxiety was growing over many things, but she knew she had to immediately take care of a major problem: telling her parents her plans for the future.
School in Seattle was going to be back in session for another month before summer break, and the time Max took out of it was getting to be a lot. She knew her parents were freaking out, because she saw the texts. Message after message, worry after worry. At some point last week they stopped for a while. It felt like the calm before the storm.
But now, Max didn't really know how she felt. A mixture of guilt and confusion; not understanding how to move forward without going back to Seattle. Her parents knew about her plans to go to Blackwell in the fall for the photography course, but Max wasn't sure she even wanted to do that. Even though she had all the time in the world to think and plan about what to do next, any attempt felt like a mental block. A barrier not meant to be crossed.
She had thought about just staying in Arcadia Bay with Chloe, and now Rachel, but without attending Blackwell, she would have to find a job or something. Would she just become a traveling nomad, going on adventures with her friends and forget about any responsibilities she had? Forget about what happened in October, forget about that timeline, that version of Chloe, that life that was going to be so vastly different? It wasn't a bad idea.
Another thought she had was to still attend Blackwell, but Max wasn't very fond of it. She had her experience before. Seen it. Done it. Lived it. Sure, it was up to the hype that she was promised, but knowing that the teacher of the prestigious photography course was now a dead serial killer, made her more than unwilling.
As the two steadily approached the truck, Chloe ran over to it, excited. "There she is, ol' Bessie." Chloe went over and slapped the front hood down, looking proud standing next to her pride and joy. "Ah, is it good to see you!"
Max laughed, "Did you seriously name your truck Bessie?"
"Nope. Made it up right now." Chloe was too busy inspecting the front bumper, running her hand across the chipped paint, to notice Max begin to step inside the truck.
Just as Max opened the side door, it made a harsh creak. The sun was beginning to set, slowly lowering itself in the distance, casting a nasty glare onto anything that reflected it, including the side mirrors. Max winced as she stepped inside, shielding her eyes from the reflection and sitting down on the cracked and duct taped seat. It was good to finally be back, even if it took a while. Chloe was still up by the front, now inspecting under the hood for any damage that might have happened while she was away.
Max sat alone in the truck, letting Chloe do her thing, but she was taking longer than usual. "See anything wrong?" Max yelled from the open side window, not knowing if Chloe could even hear her from inside the car.
Chloe's voice was muffled from being behind the sheet of metal. "Other than needing a new timing belt, water pump, fuel pump…definitely a new radiator…that thing is busted up to hell…" She slammed the hood back down and made her way to the driver's side, opening the door.
"I didn't know you were such a gearhead."
"I have to be if I want a working escape vehicle." Chloe sat down and gave the interior a good look over, before rummaging in her pockets for a cigarette.
Max watched her friend begin to spark her lighter, and something about the previous conversation made Max remember the auto shop invoice she found back in October. If she remembered everything she had read, the problems with the truck now were identical to the invoice. She shook her head, trying to get out of her thoughts. Max still couldn't get over the timeline change. "How much is all of that going to cost? Sounds like there's a bunch of problems–"
"Easily a grand. I'll…have to talk to Frank about getting a loan."
Smoke began to fill the truck, slowly blowing out from the side windows into the air. It was a moment of peace. Tranquility. Max looked around the truck some more, taking in the sights. She reached over and tapped the little bobblehead of Elvis on the dashboard, making it jiggle in movement.
"Max, stop bullying the king. If your hands need to be doing something so badly, take up smoking or something." Chloe gestured to her lit cigarette.
"No way. Experience has told me that smoking is definitely bad for my health and sanity." Max looked forward out the front window, thinking, "Sometimes I think taking photos was as much about having something to do with my hands as it was anything else, though."
"So take a picture."
Max shook her head, "I don't have my camera. It broke, remember?"
"Oh shit, you're right! I know I have an old one my dad used, you can have it if you want."
The camera. The one Chloe gave Max as a late birthday gift back in October.
"Chloe, I can't take–" Max was still hesitant to accept the offer, not knowing if she even wanted to go back to using Polaroids anymore. If anything, she was quite relieved to see her camera broken when she found it in her backpack. No new pictures meant that she couldn't keep rewinding time, making more terrible mistakes. Maybe now Max could live a somewhat normal life again.
"Nope. When we get back to my place, it's yours."
Chloe wasn't going to back down from the offer, mostly because she knew that the camera was only collecting dust anyways. And who was Max kidding, even if she didn't use the camera, the memories and nostalgia of it would suffice. "Thanks, Chloe. You're seriously the best."
"What would you do without me…"
The moment was suddenly interrupted by Max's phone ringing. She padded around her pockets, only to find her phone lodged in her back jeans pocket. She was bending and contorting to get it out, only to look at the screen and see who was calling. Panic arose and she instantly started to sweat. "Oh fuck—it's my dad."
"Well don't leave the man waiting!" Chloe sat up, flicking the leftover cigarette out the window. The phone was still ringing as it was laying in Max's hands.
"I can't answer it! What do I even say?"
Chloe grabbed the annoyingly ringing phone out of Max's hands and put it on speakerphone, placing it on the space between them.
"Hey…dad…" Max began awkwardly, not knowing what she was even going to say, "I know I've been acting so crazy these past two weeks…"
Two weeks. Max didn't even realize it had been that long. Even Chloe had changed a lot during the time Max was there. It was really insane to watch her friend transform as quickly as she did in October. Just like Max needed Chloe, Chloe may have needed Max even more, especially at this time.
"...but I want to stay in Arcadia Bay."
A long conversation was had, with Max and occasionally Chloe stepping in to fill Max's dad in on everything. It was daunting and scary, but at the end, there was a huge sigh of relief.
"Well, you're almost an adult, Max. If you feel like this is the best decision for you, then that's what you need to do." Ryan Caulfield was supportive, and while Max assumed he probably would be, she was still reluctant to believe her dad was that accepting of the situation. The entire phone call felt like an enormous weight off her shoulders. If anything, Max should have done it sooner.
"Are you going to tell Mom?"
Her dad laughed through the phone, "Of course, but don't freak out if she calls you…you know how she gets." Max knew all about her mom constantly worrying. It was the main reason Max never wanted to tell her parents that she wanted to stay in Arcadia Bay this whole time. "But really Max, while this is surprising, as long as you're safe and happy, I don't care what you do."
"Thanks, Dad." Max smiled, looking up at Chloe who had been encouraging her the whole time in the truck. It was nice to have the support. "We'll talk to you soon."
"You better. Love you, Max. Stay safe you two."
The phone call ended and Max sunk back into the seat, looking up at the roof. "Holy shit."
Chloe began to raise her hand for a high-five. "Right?" Max slapped her hand hard in return. "That went way better than you thought! No big deal, huh?"
Max sat back up, stretching out her arms, "I still have to figure out if I'm even going to Blackwell in the fall." She leaned forward and rested her head on her hands, a bit tired from the emotionally taxing conversation. It was only one of many.
"Well, don't let me stop you, Max. I don't need that guilt on me, too."
"I would never do that Chloe." Max glanced over to her friend, "My decision will never be on you. No way."
She wouldn't let it, either. Nobody else could make Max's life decisions other than herself. It was going to be stressful and maybe she wouldn't have a plan for a while, but at least some people had her back.
Chloe then reached in her pocket and pulled out her phone, clearly feeling inspired from Max's conversation. "Hey, I forgot to tell you, but the hospital called me earlier this week telling me about Rachel."
Max looked over, surprised. "Really? What did they say?"
"She's doing good. I think." Chloe looked down, scrolling through messages on her phone, "Although…I've texted her multiple times and she hasn't responded."
"It's been over a week." Max shrugged, "Maybe she's been busy?"
"No, it's not like her to do that." She looked over at Max, with a worried expression washed across her face. Chloe was clearly trying to hide that piece of information from Max all week, thinking over every possible scenario that could have happened to Rachel. "Do…Do you think she hates me?"
Max simply shook her head. From what she had seen of Rachel back in the lighthouse, she never got the feeling the girl could really hate anyone, especially Chloe.
"Chloe, I don't think she could hate you."
Her friend rested back behind the steering wheel, thinking. Chloe didn't really know what to say. She knew Max was right, but couldn't shake the feeling of the entire situation being off. The sun was completely set beyond the horizon, letting golden hour disappear until tomorrow. It was quiet…maybe a little too quiet, but for the two of them, things were starting to look up for once.
Rachel was resting on her bed, scrolling through her phone during the quiet evening at home. It was a late Saturday night, the time of day where people were usually at home with their families, or maybe up all night partying, depending on who you hung out with. Rachel used to be the type of person that would stay up all night, not caring about the consequences, though she wasn't sure she still wanted to live that life. It was exactly one week since she was in a coma. She hated being stuck at home, especially now with her parents who only seemed to care about work and not their daughter, but they seemed to have given her space. It was a long couple of days, trying to recuperate and get back on track with her normal life. Or as normal as it would get. The doctors repeatedly told Rachel that she was lucky, but the reality of the situation was that she was still recovering, and it would take time to feel like her old self again.
Rachel chose to stay at home, though, so any suffering she felt would be her own fault. It's not like there was anywhere she could go anyways. It was nearly mid-May by this point, and the school year at Blackwell would come to a close very soon. Within weeks. Rachel was the perfect, straight A, honors student, but since the beginning of April, she was skipping school so much that she chose to not show up at all. That, and the whole lighthouse situation didn't help. No one seemed to be too worried, and while she would still probably graduate with her class on time, she simply didn't care at the moment.
The phone Rachel had previously thought she lost lay on her desk, untouched, since she came home, and Rachel had been inundated with messages. It was a little shocking what everyone had to say.
First was the Vortex Club. They all missed her and wanted her to come back for one last, end of year party. While it was tempting…for some reason, the pull inside Rachel to do something like that was completely gone. It was almost out of character for Rachel. Maybe it was from all the prescribed medication she was on since the hospital…or maybe it was her shitty parents making her not want to do anything…or maybe she just grew up and matured out of partying. No, that wasn't it. Rachel shook her head at the thought, still staring down at the screen of her phone.
Then there were the Drama Club members, including everyone from Dana to Hayden, who were practically pleading for Rachel to finish off her senior year with a play. If she missed anything from Blackwell, it was performing under the stage lights at a school play. Anything that reminded Rachel of the spotlight and being center stage was difficult, since she loved it so much. Because of that, it would be difficult to not return.
Though, of the worst was Victoria. There were messages upon messages of threats, name calling, and occasional rumors spread. It wasn't surprising, no not at all. Victoria hated Rachel, even if she didn't say it directly to her face. It was subtle, like the time she tried to sneak muscle relaxer pills in Rachel's tea before the Tempest. Or snitching about the events that would take place at the numerous Vortex Club parties. It was endless, but Rachel was far too used to it. This time, however, Victoria was spreading so many lies across Blackwell, ones that Rachel could probably forget about and laugh at later, that only because it was all so fresh, it stung even more.
The rumors themselves were all over the place. Some were about Nathan and her involvement with him, either cheap attempts at saying they hooked up, or more heinous ones she couldn't even read. Others were about Rachel being a crazed drug addict that ended up ditching Arcadia Bay to live in Canada—which was so ridiculously wrong, she couldn't help but be amused. Maybe she should print that one on a shirt. Or hang it on her wall in a neat little picture frame for all to see. Rachel couldn't stop laughing to herself at the thought. It was a good idea. Thanks Victoria.
Rachel was either loved or hated at Blackwell. There was no in between. While most would admit to liking her, it wasn't a surprise that a lot were jealous of her. Including Victoria Chase. That girl would do anything to take Rachel down and put her where she belonged, even if it was a threat with a lot of broken promises. Back in Blackwell, Victoria was always trying to one up Rachel in any way she could. Whether it was striving to get better grades or trying to be more popular, she was always trying to prove that she was superior. So it was no surprise that she would come up with a plan to try and take Rachel down, even if the plan was destined to fail from the very beginning.
Then there were the other messages, all from Chloe, with occasional ones seemingly from Max. It was almost relieving to see Chloe's name show up on her phone. After the entire time spent in the hospital, maybe Rachel did have a few people that were genuinely worried about her.
Saturday, 1:35pm
Chloe: are you still in the hospital
Sunday, 10:12am
Chloe: nurse called and said you were alright
Chloe: hang in there rachel
Monday, 6:49pm
Chloe: idk if u don't have ur phone or what
Chloe: but
Chloe: max and i miss you
Chloe: i mean…i miss you more
Chloe: Rachel! Get well soon! We're all rooting for you :D - Max
Wednesday, 12:01pm
Chloe: max and i went to the diner today
Chloe: look at this massive fucking waffle
[picture of strawberry waffle topped with whipped cream]
Thursday, 7:10pm
Chloe: got my truck back
[picture of Chloe and Max sitting inside Chloe's truck, cigarette halfway out of Chloe's mouth and Max looking extremely unprepared for a selfie]
Rachel laughed after seeing the picture. It was so nice to see those two hanging out. She knew deep down that it was good for Chloe to have her best friend back, but despite that, Rachel still didn't know anything about Max. She didn't know what to think about the girl, actually. After briefly meeting her in the lighthouse, Rachel could feel that something was off about Max. Not that she was a bad person per se, just…something was different . It was this intuitive energy screaming at Rachel from the depths of her being, not stopping until she figured it out.
Throughout the years, she had always pictured Max to be different than she actually was. Maybe that was vain of her, but everyone did it, she thought. Rachel only knew the version of Max Chloe told her about, which was filled with a lot of unresolved emotions. Max left Chloe for Seattle when her dad died and never stayed in touch. That was it. That was all Rachel knew. But now with Max randomly showing up at the lighthouse, acting strange and not seeming remotely scared about the situation, it made things more complicated. Rachel watched her the whole time in there, studying her mannerisms. The way Max acted didn't seem like she was in Seattle for years, forgetting about her best friend. She knew something Rachel and Chloe didn't.
It was a lot to think about and while Rachel had plenty of time to do that, she had other matters to resolve. One being the fact that she still hadn't let anyone know she was out of the hospital and back at home. There wasn't any reason behind her doing so, but she knew she needed to start soon. She still had Chloe's messages open, and texted her first. She would probably be the only one to know anyway.
Rachel: Guess what
Chloe: what
Chloe: holy shit ur alive
Chloe: u got ur phone back?
Rachel: Yeah!
Rachel: I'm at home now btw
Chloe: let me know if u need anything alright?
Before Rachel could even respond to Chloe's question, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that the door to her room started to crack open slowly. Her dad appeared, wasting no time forcing himself into the bedroom. Rachel quickly hid her phone underneath a nearby blanket and turned her attention to her father, feeling an uneasiness in the air as she did so. By this point it was nearly midnight, and although it wasn't necessarily late into the night, James shouldn't have been in there at that time. Rachel could sense that something was off, as her dad had never entered her room at such a late hour like this.
Without wasting any time, James walked right up to the edge of Rachel's bed, almost appearing slightly drunk. It wasn't the way that he walked that clued Rachel in, it was his sudden aggressiveness. Usually she would be out, not having to be at home to deal with James Amber and his problems, but clearly this time was different. James was up late working on his 'important court case' that Rachel knew nothing about, and frankly she didn't know why he was bothering her in the first place.
"Rachel, do you know a Max Caulfield, by chance?"
Instantly, she felt lightheaded. Rachel knew that whatever her father was going to be talking about wasn't going to be good. She was aware—although very acutely—that somehow Chloe and Max were able to escape the lighthouse with her, but she knew nothing more than that. She could feel that James knew something she was unaware of and it was making her uncomfortable.
Rachel didn't answer right away, taking her time to let James get more angry. It was sort of amusing to piss him off, and even more so when he was already being a careless father. She leaned back, resting against the wooden headboard, trying to not make any eye contact.
"Yeah, why?" She tried to act inquisitive, hoping with every fiber in her being that James wouldn't ask about the lighthouse, or Mark Jefferson, or anything of that matter. Her voice became shaky, trying to hold back her fear and tried so desperately to focus on whatever was in the space in front of her. Her desk was suddenly becoming more and more interesting.
"The latest report from the commissioner's office said that Max has been charged of murder. We don't know if it's from self-defense yet, but—"
Rachel's ears were beginning to ring. The room felt like it was closing in. She wanted to say so much, but her voice wouldn't allow it. She lay stiff on the bed, feeling her chest tighten and her palms begin to sweat. Despite being a bit confused about what exactly happened that led to her being hospitalized, she was now realizing the gravity of the situation.
"You better not tell me you have been hanging around someone like that, Rachel." James turned and scoffed loudly. "But by now, it certainly is not surprising."
Every word that came out of James' mouth was painful. He knew what to say to make it hurt. Rachel continued to avoid his gaze, looking anywhere but in his direction, but it was proving to be difficult. Rachel knew that the only way her dad would listen was if she spoke in a calm manner, just like she was taught at a young age. It was utter bullshit, though, and she wasn't going to put up with it for much longer. "She's not a murderer. She was with Chloe and me."
"Oh, so Chloe was involved as well?" James turned to his right, slamming his fists on the dresser making the lamp wobble. The noise made Rachel jump. "Dammit, Rachel! When will you learn? You have completely squandered your mother and I's trust."
"What the hell are you talking about!?" Rachel stood up from her bed, but had to grab a hold of the wooden post to stop herself from falling over. She was still recovering from her coma after all. "You just came into my room, telling me that my friend is a murderer, and then you blame me for everything!?"
James didn't care for whatever Rachel was saying, only noticing the simple fact that she almost fell over when trying to stand up. "You have to take responsibility for your own actions, Rachel. This is what abusing drugs has done to you." He gestured to her, still standing by the bed. The conversation by this point had completely shifted away from Max and instead was putting every ounce of blame on Rachel.
"Enough of the bullshit, Dad! Stop being a politician for one fucking minute. Can't you just…be my dad?" She slowly walked over to him, seething in rage. "Oh, right. You stopped trying years ago."
"That's enough, Rachel!" James slid an empty cup off the dresser, making it break on the floor. Pieces of glass were everywhere, and it would be a pain to clean up. Clearly Rachel had struck a nerve in her dad.
Rachel was right up against him, almost pushing James back and out of the room. "So you're just going to break my shit now? Is that what this is?"
"I will not take this abuse any longer." He swatted her hand away, making her recoil. "When I'm finished with my work here, Rose and I are going to be living in Long Beach indefinitely. We are done here, Rachel."
"Done? That's what you have to fucking say!? You don't even care that I was in the fucking hospital!?"
"No. As a matter of fact, I don't." James was pacing around the room, trying to avoid the broken glass on the floor. Rachel just watched him, horrified at the way her supposedly loving father was treating her. "You proved to us time and time again that you are a disgrace to our name. You seem to pride yourself in your lack of care for others. In fact," James laughed, "there's a name for people like you, Rachel."
Rachel crossed her arms, bracing herself. "Oh, yeah? And what's that?"
"A narcissist. A selfish individual who hangs out with bad girls and criminals and thinks she's the only one in the world that matters."
That quickly shut Rachel up.
"And you think I don't know about your relations with Frank Bowers? What about this photography teacher, Rachel? What's your excuse now? First Chloe, now this?"
"Leave Chloe out of it." Rachel was biting her tongue, almost making it bleed, holding back on completely exploding in front of James. She could already feel tears welling up in her eyes, making her pinch her arm to try and distract herself. If James saw her upset, he could possibly use it to his advantage. She was so furious, and rightfully so. Her dad was bringing up everything Rachel desperately wanted to avoid. It was almost like this was some kind of sick joke.
James continued, "You need to understand that when your mother and I leave, we will be severing all future communication indefinitely . You will not be allowed around us and you will not be living in this house."
"You're…kicking me out?" Her voice was weak, and not loud enough to be heard. Rachel was becoming numb, too shocked at the entire conversation to even say anything more. Any fear that she had inside of her was coming true, one way or another.
"I knew I should've left you with Sera from the beginning and not have to put up with your disrespectful behavior after all these years. You're turning into her anyways."
Another button pushed, another boundary crossed. James was completely severing his relationship with his daughter and there was nothing Rachel could do to stop it. She could feel something brewing since her parents arrived in the hospital. She should've known.
"Get the fuck…out of my room." Rachel started to push him back, looking at her dad dead in the eyes, "You were never my dad, and you never will be."
While James just looked back at his daughter, done with the conversation and leaving any hurtful remark for Rachel to deal with on her own, she slammed the door shut in his face and turned back to her room. Dark, with only one lamp turned on, the atmosphere was heavy. Every emotion that she was trying to hold back in front of her dad started to pour out uncontrollably. The weight of everything James had said hit her like a truck, running her over and over again until she felt like she couldn't breathe.
Rachel had fallen to the ground, struggling to catch her breath. She sat on the cold, hard floor, sobbing. Everything was slowly closing in on her. Everything she thought she knew came crashing down. Her life was over—or it at least felt that way—and nearly all of it was her fault. She ruined her own life, making careless mistakes over and over again, and now she was left with nothing. Rachel was alone. She not only had pushed away all of the people that meant something to her, but she also abandoned herself.
Slowly crawling her way across the floor and lifting herself up to sit back on the bed, Rachel grabbed her phone and did the only thing she knew she could do at the time: texting the one person that would be there for her, even this late at night.
Rachel: I need you.
Rachel's hands were shaking and the screen had tears dripping down it, making it all the more difficult to type anything. It was a desperate attempt, one that she wasn't even sure would work. She anxiously waited. Minutes passed without a single word. Time seemed to be stopped at a standstill, leaving Rachel to believe that maybe it was too desperate of her to ask anyone to come over.
However, just as she was about to give up any remaining hope she had and call it a night, three small letters appeared on the screen. Three letters that would change everything.
Chloe: omw
Rachel smiled through the hurt, now feeling slightly relieved.
Turning off her phone, she threw it across the bed and lay down on her side, facing the wall. The poster of the United States was the only thing for her to look at, as it was marked up with sayings and graffiti from Chloe when she used to stay over. God, everything hurt to think about. Every memory burned, scorching a fire of unrelenting misery. Rachel had single handedly broken every relationship, every sense of security she had left in her life. She was unwanted, even by her own family—the people she thought were always going to be by her side, through it all.
Some time later, Rachel could hear the window across the room slide open. The sound of the nighttime crickets echoed throughout the quiet room. Chloe stepped in through the window and climbed onto the desk, nearly knocking over a small vase with her boots. She stopped to grab it, only to notice that there was a wilted flower sitting in the vase with water all dried up at the bottom. It looked old, like it had been there for a while.
When Chloe received Rachel's text, she was asleep on the couch, watching a movie marathon of Blade Runner with Max. She felt bad leaving her friend behind, but at the same time knew something was going on with Rachel and couldn't not come over to check on the girl.
The first thing Chloe saw in Rachel's room was the broken glass on the floor. She had to be careful as she walked around the room, making her way over to what looked like Rachel laying on her bed, crying. There were little piles of crumpled up Kleenex surrounding the girl. Chloe looked around, desperate to find a way to help Rachel, but wasn't sure how. With little crunches beneath her feet from the glass shards scattered on the ground, Chloe slowly made her way over to Rachel, laying behind her on the bed and ever so gently putting her arm on her waist.
"Hey."
Chloe tried to speak as softly as she could muster, hoping nothing she said would upset the girl anymore than she already was. She could hear the sobs coming from Rachel, not fully understanding what happened. She was so incredibly hurt and alone. Chloe hadn't seen her like this in years.
"Why are you so upset?" She carefully reached over and brushed a loose strand of Rachel's hair behind her ear, "Hm?"
Rachel grabbed Chloe's arm tighter. "My dad. He…he.."
Chloe just shook her head, although not knowing any details, grew more and more angry at the thought of Rachel's dad hurting her this badly. She saw the broken cup on the floor, and knew that whatever was said caused the girl immense pain.
Without wasting a moment, Rachel turned around, now facing Chloe directly. Her entire face was red and swollen, looking like she was crying for far longer than Chloe wanted to know.
"He told me he didn't want me anymore, Chloe! My own dad said it to my face!"
Chloe was horrified. She had nothing to say. Her heart was breaking into pieces seeing Rachel like this, and it made it even worse that the girl was nearly killed a week ago.
"He's going to kick me out." Rachel leaned in closer, burying herself in Chloe's shoulder, making her words muffled. "Everything that I've ever had is being taken from me. I have nothing."
Chloe didn't respond, only holding the girl close as she continued to cry into the old t-shirt Chloe was wearing. She understood Rachel's pain because she had experienced it too when her dad died. While it was different, no pain was as bad as realizing that everything you thought you had could be taken from you in a second, without warning. It was also very similar to how Chloe had felt back in the darkroom seeing Rachel unconscious on the floor. It was mortifying. She could've lost her.
The two lay together for a while, taking in the silence of the room and the subtle breeze flowing through the open window Chloe had forgotten to shut. Chloe was looking around the room, remembering so much that happened in it. So many different memories flooded her mind, wanting to take over.
Though, the one that kept showing up was the night Rachel learned about Sera. Three years ago. Chloe was in a daze then, both from the rush of performing in her first play, to the kiss under the lamppost, to the heated argument at the dinner table. She didn't want to rush into anything at the time but had to comfort Rachel the best she could manage at sixteen years old. She was thrown into a new situation with a girl she had just met days ago then. She didn't know what to do.
She remembered being in Rachel's room, taking it all in. The posters that hung on the wall, the pictures and sayings of a different life. The promises of a career in stardom. The shelf filled with books, some Chloe had never heard of. While most of these things were still hanging up and decorated throughout the room three years later, Chloe couldn't help but remember the one thing she did to help calm Rachel down.
"Hey, do you still have that little star light projector?"
"The thing you broke to put on that flashlight?" Rachel smiled, remembering the distant memory and looked up, weakly pointing over to her desk, "It's over there."
Chloe gently pulled herself away from the girl, slowly stood up and made her way over to the flashlight to turn it on. The little nightlight had seen a lot throughout the years, making a loud click as Chloe pressed down on the switch. Suddenly, the entire galaxy sprawled across the ceiling, showering the room in blue and purple swirls.
Chloe quickly returned back to Rachel as they both laid back to look up at the stars above them.
"I love it."
"I was hoping you would."
Rachel raised her arm up, this time missing her bracelet. She hoped Chloe wouldn't say anything. "I just…feel so alone."
Chloe just listened.
"I was at the hospital…all by myself…for a week …" Rachel was straining her voice, trying to stop herself from crying anymore that night. "...before anyone showed up to check on me."
Chloe shook her head, "I tried to when Max and I took you there—but they wouldn't let me in your room."
"So that's why you got kicked out." Rachel lightly laughed, with her voice starting to crack, "You know, the nurse did mention something about you being my girlfriend too…what's that all about?"
Chloe blushed, but tried to hide it, wanting to say something in response but nothing coherent was coming out of her mouth. She almost felt embarrassed that she even said it in the first place, feeling like she crossed a line with Rachel. Chloe had said it at the time because she knew that the hospital would only give her information on Rachel if she was personally related to her, outside of family. And the Amber family was too apathetic to care anymore, so it was her only option.
Rachel lightheartedly pushed Chloe in the arm, noticing her reaction, "Relax, I'm just giving you shit. I thought it was sweet."
There was a knot in her stomach, as Chloe knew she could press in further–getting answers and resolutions to their unlabeled dynamic–but held it all back. She tried to talk to Max about it earlier in the week, but outside of brief conversations, nothing was really said. Chloe and Rachel had grown distant throughout the past few months, and the entire situation with Mark Jefferson really made Chloe feel sick. She still had no idea why Rachel was there, and while it hurt to even think about, she pushed her curiosity to the side. It really wasn't the time for any of that at the moment.
"You know, a few days later, my parents showed up and told me that they weren't even there for me. " Rachel continued, briefly stopping Chloe from getting too much in her head. "They only came here for my dad's job."
Chloe stopped the girl, turning her head to look over at her, "Fuck your parents, Rachel. Seriously, they don't deserve you."
"I wish that made me feel better, but it doesn't." Rachel was still looking up at the makeshift galaxy on the ceiling, "I don't know what to do, Chloe. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to stay here. My dad made it pretty clear that once he's gone…him and my mom are gone for good."
"So stay at my place for a while." Chloe shrugged, "You used to do it all the time, and my mom never cared."
"You wouldn't mind?"
"Fuck no. Then you could meet Max…you know…outside of a creepy lighthouse."
Rachel rolled to her side, looking up at Chloe. "How is she?"
"Max?" Chloe paused to think. Something was visibly weighing on her mind. "I feel like I shouldn't say anything…" She turned to look back at Rachel, eyes filled with worry, "But Rachel…she's been acting hella strange. She's…just so different from how she used to be."
Rachel instantly got concerned, only because the Max she met gave her the same feeling. She knew something was going on with the girl the entire time, but never said anything. Now, Chloe was only confirming her suspicions. "Maybe something happened in Seattle?"
Chloe quickly shook her head, "She's…" She kept hesitating, not knowing how to word what she wanted to say, "She's been having these…nightmares. Bad nightmares. One's where she looks like a damn ghost when she wakes up. Something is going on."
The room went silent.
Rachel was playing with the bullets hanging on Chloe's necklace, trying not to think about the growing anxiety she was feeling. "Nightmares about what?"
"She won't tell me…but they're clearly bad enough to affect her like that. Rachel, it's scaring me." The two looked at each other, quickly realizing that they both thought the situation was a bit unsettling. "What if she's like…possessed or some shit?"
Rachel laughed at the thought, "I highly doubt it. Maybe she's under a lot of stress or something…Chloe, I really wouldn't worry about it."
Chloe just couldn't let the thought that something was seriously wrong with Max go. It was something that she was holding back all week, and although she didn't want to take away from everything Rachel had just gone through, the distraction seemed to have helped her calm down.
"One happened two nights ago. She woke me up…she was drenched in sweat. Shaking."
Rachel just looked at Chloe, carefully listening to her.
"I was half-asleep so I don't really remember…but she mentioned something about me being dead. No. Everyone was dead. You were…my mom…the whole town."
Rachel didn't respond right away, thinking. Everything that Chloe was saying only made her feel more uneasy.
"I'm not against the idea of dreams having meaning…but they usually aren't literal, Chloe."
"No, you don't understand. Something about it must have been. I've never seen her that upset. She was shaking me awake like I was dead." She put her arm behind her head, leaning further back into the pillows, "Then there was tonight. We were watching Blade Runner downstairs, and she just blacked out for a good ten minutes."
Rachel was in shock and felt like she couldn't move. "...like what happened in the lighthouse."
"Yeah."
Neither of them had spoken about that night since it had happened. They were both so confused watching Max collapse on the floor, blood rushing out of her nose. Chloe remembered Rachel barely being able to catch Max fast enough so she wouldn't hit her head on the cement. She rushed over to help Rachel in holding the girl, hoping that she would wake up and snap out of it. It took hours, though, and the entire time Chloe and Rachel were anxiously waiting. It was the same night they were all taken to the darkroom, although Rachel had no memory of it, it seemed.
"What do you think it means?"
"I don't know! I can't watch her suffer anymore!" Chloe sat up, running her hand through her hair in frustration, "It's killing me, Rachel."
Rachel watched Chloe, still holding onto her arm, "So she's been staying with you this whole time?"
Chloe nodded.
"I thought she needed to go back to Seattle?"
"I did too." The more Chloe thought about it, the more she was starting to realize how strange the entire situation actually was. When Max opened up a week ago on the swing set, it was insanely cryptic. Chloe tried to decipher the meaning of everything Max tried to tell her, but she just couldn't figure it out. There were so many hidden messages and meaning behind her friend's words, but only Max knew what they meant. Not to mention the entire time they hung out, Max was so stressed out over calling her parents that it was starting to make Chloe anxious as well. "We called her dad a few days ago and told him she was going to stay in Arcadia Bay for a while…and it was fine, but Max was acting like she was never going back to Seattle. She had a whole life there, Rachel. How can she just leave like that?"
"That's…really strange, Chloe."
"I thought so too, but she's my best friend, you know? If she wants to stay here, I won't judge. But it is weird. You're…the only person I've told."
"Maybe we should talk to her. Tomorrow."
Chloe nodded in agreement, unsure of what the future was going to bring, especially now with Rachel knowing. It felt relieving to tell someone else about Max's bizarre behavior that only got weirder throughout the week, because Chloe was starting to think that she was going crazy. Sure, the two were rekindling their friendship again and hanging out nearly all the time now, but Max was visibly hiding something from Chloe. She could tell. She didn't ever want to bring it up, worried it would make everything worse between the two of them.
"Good. Glad that's settled." Rachel nestled back up into Chloe's arms and the two didn't talk the rest of the night, falling asleep in each other's presence.
Neither of them knew it, but the next twenty-four hours that awaited them was going to be the most intense emotional rollercoaster either one of them were ever going to experience. The truth did always seem to come out at night a lot easier than in the day, but oh were they unprepared.
