The Two Whales Diner was bustling with customers and hungry students. The air smelled of crispy bacon and freshly poured coffee, with the distinct sound of silverware clanging together that filled the entire space. It was a familiar sight, one that had been a staple of the town for years. The diner was a place of community, where people would come to catch up on the latest news, hang out with their friends or family, and most importantly, enjoy some comfort food.
Max, Chloe, and Rachel walked in through the front doors, quickly noticing how packed the place was. For it being a weekday morning, there were definitely more people there than usual.
An empty booth sat on the right side, near the jukebox. In fact, it was the last available seat in the entire diner. As the trio made their way over to sit down, they had to navigate through the maze of people, trying to dodge plates filled with pancakes, eggs, and other breakfast foods. The atmosphere was rather lively, and while it probably wasn't the best place to continue their conversation from the night before, a change in environment would do them all some favors.
Nobody had said much since Max's huge revelation of everything that had happened in October, with all three still trying to process the information. She didn't blame Chloe or Rachel that they were having a hard time wrapping their heads around it all. It was a lot.
Between magical superpowers, visions, and a future timeline that wasn't going to happen, it left them all a bit frazzled. Max always knew that whenever she decided to tell others about her adventures in October, that it would go over everyone's heads. Of course it would, though. Who is actually serious about being a time traveler?
However, none of it mattered at the moment, as Joyce quickly made her way over to the booth, greeting the three girls. Almost instantly, a look of surprise grew on the waitress' face, shocked to see Rachel again. She knew about her time in the hospital, but hadn't seen her in person in months, also not knowing Rachel's plans of staying at her house for the time being. That conversation was for another time. Or later that day when Joyce came home from work.
"Well if it isn't Rachel Amber." Joyce began to fill everyone's cup with freshly brewed coffee, "How are you doing?" Her tone was sympathetic, almost maternal in nature.
Rachel hesitated to answer, not sure which answer was even appropriate to give. There was so much to say. "I'm doing good, Joyce." She smiled, "As good as it gets."
"That's relieving." Joyce returned the smile, "After everything that's happened, you deserve a break. You all do." Joyce watched the expressions on everyone's face the entire time, feeling like there was something no one was talking about. "Y'all look like you've gone and seen a ghost. What kind of trouble did you get into now?"
It was clear that they had undergone something overwhelming, and no one was able to hide it very well. That, and pulling an all nighter to fully allow Max to explain everything made them all look exhausted. Hopefully the coffee would wake them up.
Max watched Chloe and Rachel, with neither of them really wanting to talk. The air was filled with awkwardness and tension, but for reasons different for each person. With the time going on without anyone saying anything, Max felt the need to speak so Joyce wouldn't get more suspicious.
"No trouble, we're just…hungry." Max took the menu that laid beneath her and started looking through it, "I think I'll have the Belgian waffle."
Chloe and Rachel quickly took the hint from Max and began ordering, trying to move on from the previous subject. It just wasn't something any of them wanted to explain to someone else at the moment. Joyce took each girls' order and went back behind the counter, yelling at the cooks in the back.
"Two Belgian waffles and a bacon omelet for the hungry girls! Pronto!"
The three sat patiently waiting for their food to be made. Max sat on one side of the booth, while Chloe and Rachel sat on the other. It was nice seeing them together, trying to get along again. Neither one spoke much that morning, and while it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, Max hoped she didn't say anything to set them off. She only knew as much about their relationship in the same way she knew about what was under the hood of a car, which was practically nothing. It was confusing for everyone, but she could feel like something was off. She didn't want to feel that way, and nothing was prompting that reaction, there was just more to be said between the two.
Max diverted her attention over to the napkin dispenser, where a small flier for the Blackwell Academy Photography Program was stuck behind it. The paper was bent with dried ketchup stains crusted in the corners. In an effort to find something to do to relieve the uneasiness in the air, she grabbed the flier and began to read it, only noticing right away the large portrait of Mark Jefferson printed on the front side. Just seeing his name gave her chills.
Yikes. I never thought I'd see him again.
Chloe watched Max as she became preoccupied, noticing a graphic of a camera on the flier. She could only imagine what it was about. The way Max was so engrossed in reading something—which Chloe couldn't figure out—made her realize it probably wasn't good. Max wasn't that great at hiding how she felt, and Chloe knew her too well to not ask about it.
"Whatcha reading?" Chloe leaned forward, resting on her hands.
Max looked up at her, curious, flipping the flier over to the other side. "It's about that Blackwell photography program I was in…or planned to be in."
Although the teacher was a serial killer, Max was still upset she wasn't able to take more of the class. She remembered how excited she was about going to Blackwell, only to attend the most prestigious photography course in the nation. Where not only would she be able to take it to the next level, there was also the opportunity for networking with working professionals, giving her a headstart in her career.
Now, it was something that brought a lot of heavy feelings attached. Max loved photography, and while she would eventually return to it one day, the memories of the previous timeline and now recently with Mark Jefferson were too fresh in her mind. She could talk about it all until she was blue in the face, and it wouldn't change a thing. Time was the only way she would be able to heal.
Max casually placed the flier on the table for the other two to look at, done with anything reminding her of that time. She was already exhausted from last night's emotional whirlwind, one with many ups and downs that never seemed to stop.
"Clearly they haven't been caught up on the news." Rachel chimed in, as she poured a sugar packet into her coffee, stirring it with a spoon. It made a quiet clinking noise, blending in with the background chatter.
"Right?" Chloe slid the flier over to herself examining it further, only noticing the picture of Jefferson. The guy definitely didn't look like a murderer, but after everything Chloe had seen in the darkroom, her view of the teacher was now tainted with disgust. "Newsflash, the teacher is a serial killer."
It was still a tough subject for Rachel, always leaving her feeling slightly uncomfortable if someone brought up anything about photography, or especially, Mark Jefferson. Despite Max being so open about everything in the night prior, she was well aware she didn't possess that quality. Rachel wasn't trying to hide information from people, she just wasn't ready for the consequences it would bring.
The flier was put back behind the napkin dispenser, now left even more crinkled and bent, prompting Max to straighten it back out. "I'm still bummed about it." She mumbled, mostly thinking out loud to herself, "I've always loved photography."
"Have you used that camera I gave you yet?" Chloe's curiosity got the better of her, even if she already knew the answer.
Max shook her head, "No, I can't bring myself to use it. It feels wrong."
Chloe understood, and wouldn't pressure Max to ever pursue something she didn't want to do. The only reason she gave her William's old camera wasn't just for nostalgia either. It was a gift. A promise and renewal of their friendship that had gone through the ringer over the years. Even if Max never used the camera, Chloe wouldn't care. She just knew for one reason or another, Max needed to have it.
On the other hand, Rachel was growing steadily confused. "What camera?"
"It's my dad's old Polaroid." Chloe gestured to the bag sitting next to Max. "Max, you have it with you, right? You should show Rachel."
Max nodded, starting to dig in her messenger bag, taking out the camera and placing it on the table for Rachel to inspect.
"Woah, it's hella cool." Rachel took the camera in her hands, holding it delicately, knowing how much the little piece of analog equipment meant to both Chloe and Max. "This thing is super vintage." She then held it out, taking a selfie of everyone at the table. The shutter made a loud click, followed by the rolling out of film. "There. Now you have no excuse to not use it." Rachel winked, sliding the picture to Max, only for her to stuff it in her pocket while it was still developing. She would have to look at the picture later.
Joyce then interrupted the moment by bringing all the food to the table, steaming hot and ready to be eaten. It smelled so good too, with the fresh strawberries on top of the waffles, and the crispy bacon sizzling from inside the omelet. The food was promptly placed on the table, as Joyce refilled everyone's coffee, topping each one off. "Enjoy." She smiled thoughtfully, as she made her way back behind the bar counter.
Max dug right into her breakfast, taking a few bites of the delicious food before beginning to speak, savoring each piece. "You know how we went to the police station yesterday?"
"Yeah," Rachel started to furrow her eyebrows, hoping Max would explain further, "And you never told us what happened."
Max paused, continuing to eat and not wanting to speak with her mouth full of mushed up food, "It was just a normal interview…between your dad," She gestured to Rachel, "and Lieutenant Rossi." Max slowly sipped on her steaming hot cup of coffee, almost burning her tongue in return, "But they told me that after we all left the darkroom, the police couldn't find any evidence."
"...what?" Chloe's fork clattered against her plate as she dropped it in shock. She almost choked on her food.
The two stopped everything, with their filled plates of food forgotten about for the moment. They both looked at Max with worried expressions washed across their faces.
"That's exactly what I said." Max continued enjoying her waffle, not seeming too concerned. At least not yet. "I couldn't believe it. I still don't understand."
After saying it out loud, though, it did sound bad. No evidence meant no justice for anyone involved. The entire situation involving the Prescotts and Mark Jefferson wasn't just getting overwhelming, it was becoming problematic.
"How does that even happen?" Rachel desperately looked between Chloe and Max, searching for answers. "How is there no evidence?"
Even though she wasn't conscious during her stay in the darkroom, Rachel knew enough about the law to know that there were certain things you never messed with, and that was the evidence in a crime scene. Even her father would know, and he had a history of tampering with cases just to protect her.
"I don't know. They didn't say anything other than that." Max rubbed her eyes, beginning to feel frustrated. "I'm really starting to feel like I dreamed the whole thing." She desperately looked at Chloe, who met her gaze with sympathy.
"No, you didn't." Chloe tried to reach across the table for Max's arm, "I was there with you, remember?"
Chloe's gentle reassurance didn't make Max feel any better, despite the effort. She pulled her arm away from Chloe's grasp.
"I know, it's just making me go crazy!" Max lightly hit her fists on the table, making the plates crash together. Some people sitting nearby turned around at the noise. "How is this situation more fucked up than the one I was in before." She sighed, tired of everything. She just wanted a normal life and yet, nothing that ever happened in Arcadia Bay was normal. It was far from it.
Chloe just shrugged, "Maybe Jefferson didn't have the chance before to do something like this…"
"Or maybe the Prescotts are playing a bigger part in it than all of us think." Max leaned back in her seat and thought about what Chloe had said, taking it into heavy consideration. She wasn't necessarily wrong.
"Well yeah, everyone knows that family sucks." Chloe took a sip of her coffee, now filled with so many sugar packets, Max wasn't sure how she could even drink it. "They probably funded the whole thing, too."
"Oh, they did." A devious smile formed on Max's face, "That's public knowledge at this point, Chloe. How aren't you caught up yet?" She jokingly kicked Chloe in the leg underneath the booth, giggling.
Chloe lightly kicked the girl back, making sure to rub her dirty boots into Max's jeans as revenge. "Oh I'm sorry I just found out about all this shit." She raised her arms in the air, exasperated, "Give me a break, Max."
Rachel tried to ignore the two seemingly playing footsie with each other, getting slightly annoyed with them, "You really think the Prescotts are behind all of it?"
"They have to be." Max straightened, coming back to the conversation, "Mark Jefferson was dangerous, but he's no worse than Sean Prescott. Who knows what he's hiding behind all that cash."
Chloe shrugged at the thought. "The rich only get richer…" Her tone was bitter, clearly holding a grudge against the Prescott family.
Max leaned across the table to Chloe, her voice low as she spoke, "...and they get better at hiding their illegal projects, too."
"Damn right."
"So what's next?" Rachel pressed, "Where do we go from here?" She seemed to be the most concerned, clearly not wanting to deal with more drama. She already had enough of it since being out of the hospital. Nobody could blame her either, but the problem was no one knew any extra details of her life, all planned out to never be spoken about again. Rachel wasn't proud of it, no. It was humiliating, she would agree, and it was precisely why she was so good at hiding her past.
"Well…" Max sighed, finishing the last few bites of her breakfast, "I think we have to go to court and testify to what happened."
"Oh God." Rachel froze. "Are you serious?"
"I mean, it's what I heard your dad tell the Lieutenant right in front of me. I'm pretty sure it's going to happen."
Rachel groaned, sinking deeper into her seat. She was now realizing so much about the situation. "So that's why he was so hell bent on this 'super secret' case. You know," She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "he accused me of hanging out with a murderer, Max."
Max laughed at the thought. "Was he talking about me?"
"Yeah." She nodded somberly, looking down at her plate, "Although it wasn't too funny at the moment."
It was the farthest thing from being funny, and Rachel remembered it vividly. That was the same night James stormed into her room, demanding answers to his unrelenting questions. It had gotten so bad, he had broken a glass cup on the ground, shoved off the dresser in pure anger. It was rare for James Amber to get physically aggressive like that, but it surely wasn't the first time it had happened either.
Max leaned back, shaking her head. "What a weird timeline…" She never planned on so much drama, and she wasn't sure how to navigate through it all. There was so much to be said and done, and choosing to never use her powers again was making healthy communication a lot more difficult.
"Are you regretting coming back?"
Max thought for a moment, knowing exactly what her answer was. "No. Not for a second, Chloe." Chloe exhaled a sigh of relief, still feeling unsure if Max would leave again, and it showed. "If I have to show up to court, then so be it. I have everything I ever could have wanted sitting right in front of me."
"Mushiness alert, Max." Chloe rolled her eyes, with a slight smile forming, "So when's the wedding?"
"Hmm…" Max took a long sip of her coffee, drawing out Chloe's patience as much as she could. "Well, it's not legal here yet, so probably not soon." She winked.
"Fuck that. Elope."
"She just wants the tax benefits." Rachel elbowed Chloe in the arm, joining in.
"Or maybe she'll use her rewind powers just for the money…" Rachel raised her eyebrow at the suggestion, "then ditch us, and we'll never know." Chloe looked over at Rachel, raising her arm and slowly dropping it down behind her on the seat, drawing her in closer.
Max laughed, nearly spitting out her coffee, "Oh yeah, because that's exactly what I want to use my powers for."
Suddenly, Victoria Chase entered the diner in a hurry, looking around erratically—either for something or someone. Pushing people out of the way, crouching underneath the tables, disrupting guests. Victoria was on a mission that morning and no one was going to stop her. As she was making her way throughout the diner, she caught the familiar sight of blue hair, and wasted no time making her way over to the trio.
"Oh look," She firmly placed her hand on the table, almost claiming it as her own, "It's Rachel Amber and her weird punk friend. And…" Victoria turned her attention to Max, "some mystery person?"
It was quite funny for Max to see her again, as she knew everything Victoria didn't. The entire incident with Kate Marsh. Even when Mr. Jefferson took Victoria to the darkroom. She had no idea. She probably knew nothing about Nathan's hidden life either.
Rachel scoffed, "I don't have time for your bullshit, Victoria."
"Yeah? It doesn't seem like you're too busy." Victoria looked down at the empty plates, assuming they were all done eating.
Chloe tightened her grip around Rachel, continuing to hold her, "Oh, we're plenty busy."
Victoria just ignored Chloe and her obnoxious displays of affection, now deciding to sit on the table, nearing knocking over Max's cup of coffee. "I heard about Mark Jefferson." She tried to watch Rachel intently, seeing if anything she was saying was upsetting her. "It's a shame he won't be teaching at Blackwell anymore. Although it looked like you were already getting lessons, right Rachel?"
Victoria knew exactly where to hit Rachel where it hurt. She knew every word, every tone to use on her. She was so easy. Almost too easy. Rachel tried to ignore her, only feeling more angry as time went on. Feeling Chloe so close was starting to feel claustrophobic, especially with Victoria making her usual judgey comments, making Rachel tense up.
"Oh come on, I know you two hooked up."
Another attack Victoria seemed to have stored in her arsenal. Hitting harder as each word rang out.
Rachel could nearly feel her heartbeat in her throat. She could feel the fire building, growly steadily inside her. She never wanted to talk about it. She never wanted to bring up her past again, having to face the reality of everything she had gone through. It was almost worse to be surrounded by people, people that had grown to trust and understand each other throughout the weeks past, now for it all to come crashing down. Rachel's life was crumbling at the foundation, leaving her unsteady and in need of support.
Chloe glared at Victoria, noticing Rachel getting mad. "God, Victoria, don't you have anything better to do? Seriously, get a life." She was assuming it was a joke, although judging by the way Victoria was acting, was starting to believe otherwise.
"Says the dropout." Victoria snapped back, "Chloe, you do realize Rachel's been sleeping around all over Arcadia Bay, right?"
That made Chloe go silent. Max watched as her friend's heart was slowly beginning to break into tiny pieces, only held together by the shitty glue you would find at the dollar store. There wasn't much trust Chloe had in people, and it seemed like it was constantly getting broken. It was so painful to see, because Max knew that this conversation was coming. If it had happened previously in October, it was going to happen again. She was growing curious, though, of how the two were going to restore their relationship after the truth came out. Maybe this time they would really be done.
Victoria put on her fake sympathy voice, "Oh, sorry. I thought you already knew."
"..no…" Rachel was about to faint, shaking her head manically back and forth. This would be the end of her and Chloe. She knew it.
"...no…no.."
Fucking Victoria. She was about to destroy any piece of life Rachel had left in her, taking it all away shamelessly. And for what? What was she gaining by saying it? Was she jealous of her spending time with Mark Jefferson? It was pathetic.
Chloe shook Rachel's arm, "Are you fucking serious?" She was getting right in her face, desperately searching for answers. Victoria became a second thought, now smiling knowing her little plan worked.
Victoria began to stand up, smoothing out her cashmere sweater, "Rachel, I really think you should tell her…" She glanced over at Chloe, now visibly fuming in rage which made Victoria smirk, "You used to be so fun, what happened?"
"Life happened, Vic." Rachel raised her arm, so done with the conversation. "Move on. I did."
Victoria sighed loudly, "Well this was a waste of my time." She walked away, annoyed. Max watched as she pushed everyone in the diner out of her way, only making room for herself.
Silence instantly filled the air.
"Chloe, I know what you're thinking and—" Rachel looked at her, eyes now filled with betrayal and hurt, "and I don't want to hear it. Not right now." She buried her head in her hands, disappointed.
Max didn't say a word, leaving the uncomfortable conversation between the two. She couldn't barge in and say what she wanted to say, it wasn't her place.
Chloe didn't even blink, staring at Rachel in complete fury. "No fucking way. You're not denying it, are you?" She turned back, watching Victoria leave the diner, "Were you using me this whole time?!" She then lifted herself up to look outside the window, making sure Victoria wasn't going to come back inside and ruin anything else, "I knew it was all an act from the second you fucking texted me!"
Rachel still didn't say anything, now completely resting down on the table, hands covering her head. It was too noisy in the diner to hear any subtleties, but she was clearly upset. Then again, so was Chloe.
"So first my dad dies, Max bails on me for years," Chloe angrily gestured to Max, which made her recoil at the aggression, "my mother gloms onto step-fucker…and now you betray me?" She leaned in as close as she could get to Rachel, still buried underneath herself, almost hiding away from the outside world, "Fuck everybody!" Chloe climbed over Rachel, making her look up to watch Chloe leave the diner, absolutely furious. Neither Max nor Rachel knew where she was going, but it didn't matter.
Rachel turned around once more, now seeing that she was left alone with Max. "There's no fucking way that just happened." She wanted to cry, and definitely throw everything on the table through the window, but Rachel just felt numb. By this point, she was so used to disappointment, she just stared at the space in front of her. "I'm sorry, Max." She glanced at the girl, only realizing the only solution to her problem, "I should probably go talk to Chloe. I'll see you later, alright?"
Max nodded.
Rachel quickly stood up to leave, not wasting another moment. She had to make things right with the only person that was routinely there for her. There was no way after all this, she was going to let Chloe go that easily. She didn't know where she would find her, or how she was even going to explain everything, but there was always a way.
The streets of Arcadia Bay were quiet, with few cars driving on the road. The small town seemed uninhabited, with every resident either at work for the day, or finishing up the final weeks of school. The warm air that spring brought, ushering in the beginning of summer, blew through the trees with birds flying about. It was peaceful.
Max was walking alone along the sidewalk, earbuds in, listening to some music. After Rachel had stormed out of the diner looking for Chloe, Max was left to herself. She didn't blame her, and she probably would have done the same thing if the circumstances allowed it. Now outside of the hectic hustle and bustle of the restaurant, Max hadn't had any real time to herself alone in weeks, always worried that something would happen if Chloe wasn't by her side. It was like a sense of protection; someone who could shield her from the craziness she endured.
The music was guiding Max through her thoughts, bringing her through a slurry of emotions and feelings, especially heightened as she made her way through the small town. There was a certain charm to Arcadia Bay, accompanied by the old fashioned buildings and quaint atmosphere, but there always seemed to be an air of mystery underneath the surface. The town held a lot of secrets, keeping them locked behind a vault only the Prescotts could see.
Blackwell Academy sat atop the hill, glowing in the morning sunlight. Max decided to make her way up to the school, wanting to sink into the nostalgia one final time.
The campus was calm, with most of the students either still in the dorms or attending their classes for the day. The familiarity, but at the same time, uneasiness Max felt about the place was growing. Everything she saw reminded her of something from her past, experiences that only she could remember.
There were a few people hanging out in the front courtyard, namely Justin and Trevor squeezing in an early morning skate session, and what looked like a few members of the Vortex Club sitting around one of the trees. Max stood from a distance, looking out across the campus. Nobody seemed to notice her, which was nice, but it was like she was looking in at a place where she didn't belong. Seeing so many people she recognized and even knew her when she attended there was a strange feeling, one that she understood she wouldn't be able to get back.
In the distance, a muffled sound of a phone ringing cut through the music, making Max pull out her earbuds and look around to find the source of the sound…only for the ringing to abruptly stop. A feeling of dread washed over her, quickly realizing that it was indeed her phone. She padded around her pockets, only to look in her bag to find the device.
The screen showed a missed phone call notification, followed by a voicemail. It was from an unknown number, lacking a picture or any sense of identity. Just seeing it gave Max goosebumps, immediately reminding her of the time she had received threatening texts from Nathan and his father, Sean Prescott.
She tapped the voicemail and held her phone up to her ear, trying to hear the choppy and distorted message that played through the speakers.
You won't get away with what you've done.
Max looked around, still listening, but the voice quickly cut out and what followed was grainy radio static. It felt like she was being watched.
The voice was clearly a coverup, with a robotic sound to it, that it was nearly impossible to tell who it was. Either it was some kind of prank, or something much more serious was going on. The air seemed to have gotten colder, making Max feel exposed.
Harshly, the voice returned, speaking slow and methodical, drawing out each word.
You will pay.
A sharp gust of wind swept through the campus, making Max tighten her hoodie closer to herself. It was sudden and brought a coldness that didn't seem seasonal to the springtime. There were so many things that felt wrong with the voicemail, which made it even more odd because nothing was really said other than unreliable threats and shady language.
Max put her phone away, not feeling too safe on her solo walk around town. It was exactly the reason she never left without Chloe by her side the past few weeks, and that was just proof. There was no reason for anyone to call her, let alone have Max's phone number, and that fact alone was making her feel incredibly anxious. She didn't know if she was in immediate danger, or if she should show it to the police, hopefully helping with the puzzling case.
Quickly leaving the area, now finding listening to music not a wise activity to do, Max started to descend down the hill of the Blackwell campus, deciding to return back to Chloe's house. She would have to tell her later, because Max couldn't shake off the feeling that she was being spied on. Tracked or observed by someone who was potentially dangerous. She didn't know what to do or how to even handle the situation, but at least for the moment, someone needed to know about it.
Loud gunshots reverberated throughout the forest, coming from nowhere other than the junkyard. Birds were flying from tree to tree, jumping at each shot fired and trying to dodge the threats that loomed on the ground below.
Chloe's truck sat parked near the entrance, engine still smoking from underneath the hood. She had supposedly driven around town and beyond, judging by the amount of fumes leaving the car. The truck was as beat up as it had already been, still rusted out and any remaining paint chipped off. It was Chloe's truck, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
Rachel had taken her time getting to the junkyard, figuring she would go there anyway, letting Chloe have some space before trying to talk. She knew the girl well enough to know that it was extremely difficult trying to talk to her when her emotions were running high. As she approached the junkyard, another gunshot went off. A small group of small birds flew away, squawking. She could see Chloe in the distance, holding onto what looked to be a revolver, shooting at beer bottles set up on a wooden plank. It was a little concerning, but only because of where Chloe had found the gun. There was no way it was hers.
"Hey." Rachel slowly walked over, the loose gravel crunching beneath her feet. Chloe didn't act like she was listening and was too busy reloading the gun, head buried deep in concentration.
The air was heavy. Constricting, almost. The ground beneath them started to feel like quicksand, drawing both of them deeper into a pit of helplessness.
With a bullet hanging out of Chloe's mouth, she spoke muffled, "I can't even look at you, Rachel." She grabbed the extra bullet and put it in the revolver, spinning the cylinder back into place.
Rachel just watched as Chloe began shooting again, giving her no attention. It was starting to get to her, making the entire situation sting more, but she knew it was going to be like this. Chloe was being difficult.
"Chloe," Rachel desperately moved closer to her, trying to bridge the little bit of connection they had left, "Please. Let's talk."
The final bottle was knocked over by the last bullet in the gun, breaking into pieces on the wooden plank.
"You wanna talk? Fine." Chloe stuffed the revolver in the back of her pants, seemingly growing more and more annoyed. "But this is your last chance, otherwise I'm moving on with my life and stop hoping you'll get better."
Rachel stood with her arms crossed, kicking some of the small rocks in the dirt around nervously. She didn't know what to say or how to say it. It was all Victoria's fault for making this an issue, and now Rachel was the only one who could fix it. Fuck.
"I'm waiting!" Chloe threw her arms in the air, yelling, growing more impatient as the time went on.
"Yeah, okay," Rachel let out a deep breath, becoming anxious. She was treading on thin ice, and one wrong move would completely set Chloe off. "Victoria was right about Mark Jefferson," She watched the look on her face turn disgusted, "But I fucked up Chloe!" Rachel started to walk closer to her, trying to find any comfort in her she could, only for Chloe to back away in turn. "I–I did it for us." She nearly whispered, trailing off at the end.
Chloe stood blankly, not fully understanding, "What the fuck are you talking about, Rachel."
"I was getting desperate," Rachel backed away, embarrassed.
Damn, who knew being honest was so difficult? It seemed a lot easier in theory.
"I did some shit I regret so you and I could get out of here. For good."
Chloe just looked at Rachel, eyes prompting an explanation. She didn't even need to say anything for Rachel to understand what she wanted.
"I started hanging around people that promised me a ticket out of here, and one thing led to another, I ended up with Jefferson." Rachel shook her head, knowing that if she didn't elaborate soon, shit was going to go down. "Chloe, I've never stopped thinking about you. I was never going to leave without you. Not a fucking chance." Her tone was demanding, yet confident. Rachel meant everything she was saying.
"But how can I even trust anything you say now? None of that changes the fact that you betrayed me, Rachel!" She raised her arms, feeling defeated. "It's like anything we had together was a lie." Chloe looked down at the ground sheepishly, "I feel…used."
"No. None of it was a lie." She came closer to Chloe now for a second time, gently grabbing onto her arm, "Chloe, please, look at me."
Chloe slowly met Rachel's gaze. She noticed tears beginning to well up in her eyes, only making her more upset. She never wanted this to happen. Everything was going so good, Rachel really believed it. Now, she just seemed delusional.
Rachel, as carefully as she could, wiped some of the tears away that were starting to trail down Chloe's face, asking and pleading for more explanations. For a hope that maybe this entire situation was just a huge misunderstanding. "I'll do anything to show you it won't happen again. I'm not that person anymore, Chloe, and I know that doesn't make it any better, and I know you're so fucking upset at me–"
Chloe lifted up Rachel's chin, making her look deep into her eyes. The moment was at a standstill, with Rachel not knowing where it was going to lead.
"Give me your phone."
It was a rather strange request, one that took Rachel off guard. She thought it would be something else, but stepped back to grab her phone from her back pocket, not really caring what Chloe would find. It didn't matter. Even if it was bad, Rachel was going to be honest. It was her last resort or else she was going to be left alone, having to deal with everything herself.
Rachel quickly handed her phone over, watching as Chloe swiped through the messages, anxiously reading each and every text. "My lioness? What the fuck—" She looked up at her, confused, "Frank?"
Rachel immediately went stiff just hearing Frank's name. She definitely didn't plan on talking about him today.
"He's delusional, Chloe." She rolled her eyes, trying to desperately hide her growing panic.
Chloe handed the phone back, crossing her arms. "Then why was Frank Bowers texting you? Need to explain that one too?"
"It's old news. I haven't seen him in months." Chloe raised her eyebrow, making Rachel correct herself, "At least a year ago. He was more of a friend than anything else."
"Then why was he asking for pics?"
Another blow right at Rachel's past. Another complicated topic meant for another time. Please, any other time than right now. The text from Frank was sent so long ago, Rachel had nearly forgotten about it until Chloe brought it up. She clearly wasn't texting him as often anymore, so it wasn't that hard to go back and think it happened recently.
And God, those pictures. It was partially why Rachel was always left with a bad taste in her mouth now when it came to photography. Frank used to be unrelenting, asking for more and more, until he eventually broke Rachel down, following his commands for something that would take the edge off. Earlier, though, when Max had brought out her Polaroid, it was different. It was more analog, not something that would be used against Rachel in an attempt to control her.
She could feel the pressure building, making her play with the seams of her shirt as a way to divert her nervousness.
"It was like a contract. I posed for him, he gave me pills and shit in return." She shook her head lightly, "It was the top shelf kind, too. He doesn't just hand that out to anyone. Not to mention the stash of money he hid…"
There was a glass jar filled to the brim with all the money Frank made from his business. It was hidden in the cabinet, next to some old boxes of cereal. Rachel would be lying if she said she never sneaked a few handfuls of cash when Frank was distracted, hoping she could use it to leave Arcadia Bay. Sometimes, though, Frank would catch her, and those times were not the most pleasant. She couldn't bear the thought of telling anyone what happened behind closed doors in his RV, as that was something to be locked up in a little box to never be opened again.
Chloe went silent.
"When I was alone in my room, who did I text?" Rachel looked up at Chloe, pleading for her to understand. She was losing hope in the conversation, clinging onto the last bit she had in her. "Who have I been hanging out with the past few days? Not Frank. Not Jefferson. You, Chloe."
"So? How does that change anything, Rachel?" Chloe was being so stubborn, and she wasn't going to stop until she had every answer Rachel was willing to give.
"It doesn't change anything," Rachel stepped back, almost becoming shy, "but it has to show something–" She trailed off at the end, hesitating. Her words were starting to not make any sense.
Chloe tilted her head to the side, "What? Show what?"
"That–" Rachel's breath was heavy, not wanting to actually say the words. It was right there, begging to be said. Oh, she would say it anyway. "That I fucking love you! There." She groaned frustratingly, "You just wanted me to say it, didn't you."
"...what?" It seemed as though time had slowed down, leaving Chloe not knowing how to respond. "You cannot just say that to try to get out of all the shit you just said."
"I'm not, Chloe. What more do you want me to say?"
Chloe let out a deep breath, overwhelmed at everything. It was all too much to handle at the moment.
"I just need some space, okay? This is a lot to take in right now." She raised her hand, walking back to the hideout in the far corner of the junkyard, leaving Rachel to stand by herself.
Rachel couldn't let her just leave like that. There was so much more to be said, even if she didn't want to.
"Chloe—wait." She turned around at the last minute before Rachel began to walk towards her, "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry about everything. I–" Now Rachel was starting to tear up, feeling every emotion creep to the surface. She held herself with her arms, desperately wanting Chloe but knew she wasn't going to get her. "I never wanted to hurt you, and that's all I seem to do." Her voice was weak.
Chloe didn't say anything. She couldn't. There wasn't any word that seemed good enough to say.
Feeling defeated, Rachel walked back to Chloe's truck, standing behind her promise to give her some space. She didn't like it, and it was making her feel abandoned and afraid, not knowing what would happen next.
Stepping inside the truck, Rachel pulled out a cigarette from the pack stuffed in her pocket, and even though the doctors told her to not smoke after leaving the hospital, she desperately needed to. It was a long day already, but she needed something to calm her down and take her mind off the present moment for a while.
Nearly two hours later, Chloe finally walked back to her truck to leave the junkyard for the day, only to see Rachel asleep on the passenger's side. A burnt out cigarette was left in her hand barely holding on. She was feeling immensely frustrated, stepping in the driver's side and started the truck impatiently, which woke Rachel up.
Chloe looked over at Rachel who seemed startled. "You fell asleep."
It was stated more as a fact, rather than a concern, void of any emotion.
She shifted the gear back, slowly putting the truck in reverse. The tension already brewing was palpable, making both of them hesitate to say anything for fear of something much worse being said. Today wasn't supposed to be like this, it was really never supposed to be like this. Rachel felt defeated and she didn't know how she could even make it better. Chloe seemed too pissed off still to listen.
"I didn't want to leave you." Rachel yawned, stretching out her arms, "So I was going to stay here for as long as it took."
"Great. That doesn't make me feel guilty." She pressed hard on the gas, making the truck jolt forward.
"Stop, you know that's not what I meant."
The trip back to Chloe's house was painfully long. Silence filled the truck the entire way, where the only sound to be heard was from the rumbling of the engine, clunking along the uneven road. Every mile felt like an eternity, stretching out across the vastness of the town. Left alone to their thoughts, everything that wanted to be said was held back, clouding the air in a dense fog neither one knew how to escape.
Chloe sharply pulled into the driveway, avoiding making eye contact with Rachel. "You should probably get your stuff."
"What?" Rachel watched as she began to exit the truck, "Why?"
Chloe paused halfway between the door and the outside, leaning her hands on the seat, "So you can go back home, Rachel. I think you staying here was a bad idea."
Rachel was so hurt. She could feel the weight of everything crashing down on her, suffocating her. Nothing she said made any difference anyways, but she wasn't going to take no for an answer. It was either she stayed at Chloe's house, dealing with the mutual discomfort they both felt, or she went back home where both her parents would give her shit about her terrible life choices. The second option was not going to happen. No way.
"I'm not leaving, Chloe." Rachel looked at her in a demanding way, which took her off guard.
"And why's that?"
"Because I need you to trust me." She stepped out of the truck, walking around the front to be face to face with Chloe. "I know it's so fucking hard now, and I get it. But I'm done with those people, that life I had before…before Max showed up…isn't my life anymore." She shook her head and looked down at her shoes, now dirty and covered in mud from the junkyard. Rachel was feeling immensely uncomfortable. Talking honestly was a hell of a lot more difficult than she thought it was.
Chloe didn't say a word, feeling speechless. Rachel wasn't giving her a reason to not trust her, but the entire time, she couldn't shake the feeling of being lied to. And rightfully so. From the lighthouse to now, even after all this time, even when she went over to Rachel's house to comfort her the best way she knew how, it wasn't enough. Rachel even gave Chloe her phone willingly, and it didn't help. She explained everything, including her involvement with Frank and Mark Jefferson. But it wasn't enough. Chloe needed time. And space. She needed a whole lot more of everything before she would be willing to sit down with Rachel again and talk.
Inside the house, Max was sitting at the dining table eating what looked like a bag of chips, going back and forth between different pieces of torn apart camera parts. She was heavily invested in what she was doing, carefully examining each piece with a tweezer, holding it out in front of her like it was some kind of rare specimen and she was a mad scientist. Her concentration was so strong that she didn't even see Rachel making her way over to the table.
"Mind if I sit here?" Rachel's voice carried a lot of weight, and Max could tell. She rested her arms on the top of the chair, waiting patiently for the girl to answer.
Max ever so gently placed the little metal spring she was trying to unwind back down, and looked up at her, "Not at all. I've just been trying to fix my other camera…" She gestured to all the tiny parts laying in a methodical way across the table. "I think Nathan broke it at the lighthouse."
"That asshole." Rachel started to sit down, shaking her head angrily, "I'm sorry, Max."
Max resumed what she was initially doing, not minding the extra company. Though she could feel that something was wrong—it was this feeling both Chloe and Rachel carried when they walked through the front door that afternoon. She didn't want to get involved, leaving Chloe to go up to her room. Now that Rachel seemed willing to talk, she couldn't help but be a little nosy.
"Where have you been?"
"At the junkyard," Rachel watched Max dab the end of a toothpick in glue, carefully putting some on another camera part. It was becoming mesmerizing, almost making her forget to finish speaking. "Trying to talk with Chloe."
Max looked up, curious, "I'm guessing it didn't go very well."
"No, it didn't. I don't blame her, though."
She knew Rachel enough, both from the past, and now present, to know that something major happened at the junkyard. Rachel had a lot of stuff that she kept to herself, but Max knew quite a bit of it from her time snooping in Frank's RV. She saw the letters and the pictures. While she didn't know the exact details, she did know that whatever was said clearly upset Chloe. Of course it did, Rachel flat out admitted she had been seeing other people behind Chloe's back. But that wasn't the full story, and both of them knew that.
Max continued working on her project, growing more annoyed when nothing seemed to be working. It was frustrating trying to use the tiny tools she had found in the garage, twisting and bending each piece of plastic to fit together again. The camera was long gone by this point. There was no use in trying anything else.
"You know," Max reached across the table for her phone, needing a mental break from her annoying camera, "I got this creepy voicemail earlier. It's been freaking me out all day."
She wasn't planning on telling Rachel about it, only because everything was so fresh to her and she wouldn't know as many details like Chloe would. But it clearly wasn't the right time for anyone to be speaking to Chloe, so Max resulted in showing the only person in front of her at the moment. She couldn't waste any more time with it, feeling rushed.
Rachel tilted her head, confused. "Can I hear it?"
Max nodded and handed the phone over for her to listen. As it played, Rachel's face was growing more concerned, only more so after hearing the eerie static and strange whispers Max didn't catch the first time when she was outside.
"That's really freaky, Max." She handed Max her phone back, "Who do you think it is?"
"I have no idea. I don't know how anyone could even get my number in the first place."
"Maybe it's some kind of prank call." Rachel shrugged, hoping that maybe it was just some dumb kid messing with Max, but even she knew it wasn't logical. Nothing was making sense, and the voicemail was proving just that.
Max brushed off some dust on the table, starting to put the little screwdriver back in its case. "As much as I'd love to believe that," The lid snapped shut as she was now cleaning up her mess of a broken camera, "I think it's someone trying to fuck with my head."
She knew it had to be true. Max couldn't help but think it was Nathan, but he wouldn't go through so much effort with a voice changer and special effects. It couldn't be Mark Jefferson, as he was dead. And Sean Prescott surely wouldn't care enough about anything other than his wealth, so he wouldn't mess with a teenage girl. Any other option, like a hired stalker, seemed bizarre. Max didn't even do anything wrong.
Rachel could notice Max beginning to ruminate, watching the gears turn inside her head. "Well, I wouldn't overthink it."
"But Rachel," She paused, feeling stressed, "I could be in danger, or something."
Rachel just sat thinking. Max wasn't wrong, but she was blowing it out of proportions. A strange voicemail that didn't really say anything substantial was barely evidence of a dangerous situation. At best, it was a sick joke. And at worst, well, neither one wanted to go there at the moment.
Chloe's room was dark, with the only source of light coming from the rising moon sitting up in the sky. It was a full moon that night, prompting change and the desire for the past to be released. The night was warm, ushering in the start of the summer months, with distant crickets singing their nightly song outside the opened window.
Chloe was standing over by her desk, now covered in old pictures from the years. She was clearly reminiscing on a past where she thought she had it all. A past where there were no secrets. No lies. Everything seemed better then.
Rachel slowly opened the door, entering the room. Chloe didn't realize she was there until she heard a zipper being undone behind her, sounding like Rachel was going through her duffel bag. She turned around without saying a single word, watching the girl. She was carrying a pillow and some blankets in her arms.
"I'm just changing my shirt." Rachel could feel that someone was watching her and turned around, still rummaging through her bag, "Is that okay?"
"Yeah." The tension in the air was still strong, but Chloe turned around to give Rachel some privacy, looking out the window. "It's fine."
It wasn't fine. Nothing today was fine.
When Rachel was done changing, she grabbed the pile of blankets she was carrying and walked over to Chloe, noticing what she was doing. Pictures upon pictures, little keepsakes, and even a few crumpled up letters were sprawled across the desk. Memories of her and Rachel. She was starting to grow nervous, quickly realizing what Chloe had been doing the whole afternoon.
In an effort to try to change the subject to something that didn't recall what was said earlier, Rachel reached over to a picture she could easily remember.
"Aw, I love that picture." She grabbed it, holding it up closer. "Remember that band, The High Seas? It was cool they came here." She looked up at Chloe, hoping she would allow the conversation. It was the first time they had talked since the morning.
"Yeah," Chloe held back, trying to hide her smile, "and we drove all the way up to Portland for it. It was like their first ever tour."
It was where they met the band, and were lucky enough to sneak backstage. Tammi, the lead singer. Dex, Pixie, and Dwight. It was a fun concert, as everyone was dressed up like pirates.
"We should do that again." Rachel looked up at Chloe, hopeful that she was bridging the gap between her with something both of them enjoyed. It was a long shot, but she had to try.
"What? Go to a concert or go to Portland?"
Rachel shrugged. "Why not both? I miss doing stuff like that together."
Chloe didn't respond, visibly thinking about something else. She sat back, resting on the edge of the desk with her arms crossed. The talk from earlier was starting up again, and Rachel could feel it. She tightened her grip on the blankets she was carrying, bracing herself.
"Did you really mean it?" Chloe barely spoke, almost whispering, hoping Rachel would read her mind, "What you said earlier?"
Rachel didn't know what Chloe meant, as there was a lot said. Everything from cheating, to leaving, to arguments. She didn't lie about anything she said though, and she would gladly explain more if given the opportunity.
"I meant everything I said," Rachel curiously tilted her head to the side, "…although I feel like you have something specific on your mind."
"When you…" Chloe hesitated, looking like she had been thinking about it for a while. She didn't even want to say it outloud. She choked on her breath. "When you said you loved me."
Rachel went right up to her, slowly dropping what she was holding on the desk, wrapping her hands around Chloe's waist. It was supposed to be some sort of hug, but Chloe wasn't reciprocating, hands leaned back behind her. She didn't want to trust in anything Rachel was saying, making her act more standoffish.
"Of course I meant it." Rachel leaned forward, begging for Chloe's attention, "Why wouldn't I?"
"I don't know…" She was desperately trying to avoid Rachel, looking anywhere but at her. "It felt forced."
"I've felt that way for a long time, Chloe." Rachel just stared up at her, still not letting go. She was being possessive, and Chloe was starting to fall for her trap, easing in. "We've said it to each other before, don't act like we haven't."
"I'm not," Chloe shook her head, "I–I'm just hurt. And confused." She put her hands on Rachel's shoulders, trying to get her to listen. "How could you do all of that behind my back?"
Rachel backed up and sighed heavily, knowing exactly what she needed to say. She said it before at the junkyard, but apparently it wasn't good enough for Chloe. It was clear that she still didn't trust her fully, not committed to the truth behind her words, but Rachel still needed to try. She grabbed her things from the desk again, preparing to leave the room if what she planned on saying wasn't enough.
"I was young, and selfish, and wasn't thinking about anyone but myself." Saying it the second time was still a challenge. Rachel felt herself dodging Chloe's eyes, ashamed. "I was chasing the thrill of adventures, not caring if I was hurting anyone else in the process. Shitty, I know." She clutched the pillow and blankets closer to her chest, holding them tight. It was like a protective barrier between her and Chloe.
Chloe almost instantly appeared more relaxed, acting as if Rachel passed the test. "Damn. What's gotten into you? I've never seen you be so…open."
She wasn't wrong. Ever since Rachel left the hospital, everything was different. The talk last night with Max didn't make it better, only further proving the point that Rachel had changed. It wasn't like her to be so open, so vulnerable about anything, let alone about her past relationships—if they were even that. It scared her the more she thought about it. Seeing Victoria and the mass amounts of text messages from Blackwell students seemed to reinforce her belief. Rachel Amber was not the person she used to be, the partier, the perfect student, the D.A.'s daughter, and everyone noticed.
"Honestly?" Rachel turned her face away, thinking, "When I woke up in the hospital, it's like this switch flipped in my brain, making me see everything differently. I don't even know how to explain it."
Chloe was still standing with her arms crossed, but was actively trying to listen. It was hard, though. "You're making it really hard to trust anything you're saying right now."
"You think I don't know that?" Rachel hissed back, growing annoyed, "I'm just as freaked out by myself as you are. But I can't stop it."
Rachel was beginning to turn around to leave, now feeling like it didn't matter what she said, Chloe wasn't going to believe her. It was frustrating. On the other hand, Chloe couldn't help but notice the blankets and pillow Rachel was carrying the entire time, and felt like she needed to say something about it. It was a little strange.
"And what's that all about?"
Rachel looked down at her arms, "I was going to sleep on the couch, is that alright with you?" Her tone was becoming agitated. Stinging a little more on each word.
"Yeah, I–" Chloe couldn't stop hesitating. She didn't know what she wanted. "Now you're making me feel shitty."
"By me sleeping downstairs? Chloe, I'm just trying to give you space to process everything."
It was true. As much as Rachel was becoming annoyed, she really was just trying to give Chloe room to think about all the information she had said earlier. Chloe kept switching up, making Rachel feel confused by her actions. She couldn't quite tell if Chloe was still mad, or if she was starting to at least understand Rachel's side of the story, even if she didn't like it.
Just as Rachel was starting to walk away, now tired and drained from the day, Chloe grabbed her by the shoulder.
"Stay."
Her eyes were so desperate, wanting more of what she couldn't have. It was making it close to impossible for Rachel to decline, but just like what she was explaining earlier, she had changed. Matured, even.
"I can't." Rachel watched as Chloe looked so disappointed, "As much as I would love to, not right now. It's been a long day, Chloe, why don't you just go to bed."
The two stood at a stand still, without any words being spoken. Staring into each other's eyes, it was daunting, maybe even a little intimidating. Chloe drew back as she watched Rachel walk over to the door, opening it.
"Anyways," She was now halfway out the door, with barely her head peeking in through the room, "I'll just be downstairs."
At the last second, Chloe reached out again, "Rachel, wait–"
"I'll see you in the morning, Chloe." She left the room, closing the door on her way out.
Chloe stood in the same spot she was left in, struggling to move. The room seemed a little more empty that night, leaving her with her thoughts longer than she would have liked. She looked around her room, trying to escape every conversation that happened that day. Rachel was brutally honest about her past, but the heaviness of betrayal was weighing down the air, feeling suffocating.
It wasn't easy for Chloe to confront Rachel, but at the same time, Rachel didn't need to come looking for her. She could've just left, or maybe gone back home. But she came back. For Chloe.
She wasn't happy with her, nor was she going to immediately take her back, but in the end, was appreciative of how open she was about everything. Rachel didn't need to willingly hand over her phone, or explain each text Chloe brought up, but she did anyway.
In a way, it was a new beginning. A promise. A commitment to something better.
Chloe still felt like she couldn't trust Rachel fully, and it would take time. She would need to show up for Chloe, over and over, for her to feel safe in her words, but for now, it was at least a start.
