'Hang in there' were the only words of wisdom the entire diner had heard all morning. The cat barely hanging off the tree branch on the poster plastered onto the wall looked too adjacent to office life as opposed to washing dishes, yet anything was better than hearing the grumpiness coming from the other side of the wall. Joyce was running on empty, taking the shift from the night well into the day. Late summer was a grueling time for all businesses in Arcadia Bay, not just including food establishments, as anyone who was attending Blackwell for the upcoming school year was already arriving back in town.
Classes were starting soon within the next couple of weeks. It was a harsh reminder to Max that she really did avoid talking about her own future for as long as she could, hiding it all under white lies and coverups from the sparse conversations she ever had with her parents. They contacted her a few times since she arrived in the Bay, but never again after the event of the party. It was coming, though, as she knew the feeling too well. She could practically hear the ringing now. But for the time being, she would have to hold on for as long as she could to the hope that they truly didn't care what she did. She only had to promise that she was happy.
It was a small assurance to the ones who were being a bit too passive for her to be comfortable with. The past was starting to become a hazy blur, with memories and conversations fading into the background. It could very well be another weird time thing, she thought, with the strange flickers and disappearances adding to her own theories. There was simply no way of knowing quite yet without speaking to them.
Max and Rachel were standing in front of the industrial sized sink, scrubbing away all of the food and grime on each plate and utensil for the past hour. They were doing everything that they were instructed to do, as fast as they could, in hopes of an early break. The cat on the poster felt like it was silently judging them, watching as they slaved away for a small paycheck that was barely going to cover the planned camper purchase.
"Hey, Max, can we talk for a second?" Rachel asked hesitantly, like she had something weighing heavily on her mind. She was still a bit too focused on getting her end of the washing done to even look at Max, but it was clear that she was bothered just from the way she was acting all morning.
"Definitely." Max set the remainder of the plates down next to her, and led her to the other end of the diner where the supposed break room was. It was really just the stockroom but nobody was going to complain. "What's up?"
She was waiting for something to be said, even more so when Chloe decided to not show up for her shift that day. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary for her, always seeming to take the easy way out of commitments and obligations, but at least it didn't happen often. She promised to return later; no explanation was given of what she planned to do instead.
"I don't know how to say this, but," Rachel paused, leaning back against the wall. She was guarded. Holding back. A tapping foot and long sigh followed. "I think there's something wrong with me."
Max frowned. "What do you mean?"
A quick peak around the corner to see if Joyce or any of the other staff would want to overhear, then another lengthy exhale. Max followed her movements and checked for herself, but not a single soul was around. Unless she counted the piled up cigarette butts on the floor. She was going to say something, maybe pry a bit more to make sure that she wasn't going to have a medical emergency on her hands, until Rachel interrupted her thoughts.
"For years, I've noticed that something happens when I get upset." She confessed quietly, holding her arms back against her chest. "The wind picks up. Or the weather changes when my mood changes." She glanced up at Max who was already smirking—the kind that was all too telling of what she was thinking.
The realization that Max wasn't alone in this strangely powered world came fast and was about the most relieving thing she could have heard. Rachel didn't have to say it directly for her to understand. All of the times she laid awake at night, thinking of how isolated she really was with no one else to share the struggle with. The relentless intrusive thoughts that maybe all of this was just some bad dream she couldn't wake up from. She knew that something was up for a while now, but never had the nerve to actually confront her with it.
"Sorry. That sounds so insane now that I'm saying it out loud." Rachel tried to judge her reaction as the silence was becoming unbearable for the both of them. Max was good at hiding her emotions, despite her face showing a lot of what she was trying to put into words. Rachel watched her start to pace around, making her way over to the shelves in the back where the stocked food was. A can of beans was turned around in her hand, her back faced away.
"Or when Nathan Prescott is burning down a barn and you look like you're going to blow the whole place up? Yeah, I saw that, too." She started giggling to herself, feeling the rounded metal and paper label against her fingertips. The reminder of that strange day, then the brief encounter of something other-worldly. She was wondering why it was taking her so long to talk about it. Max's back was still turned away but she could hear the distinct footsteps coming up behind her. While there was no book on how to give advice to friends that could also have some kind of power, it didn't feel as hard as she ever imagined it to be. If anything, it was too easy. "I guess I'm not the only one superpowered."
Max turned to the side and winked, noticing Rachel taking her own look at the cans of beans neatly stacked previously by Chloe next to her. She looked to be more at ease, albeit slightly, but it was a side Max wasn't used to seeing of her. The Rachel Amber she knew and made aware of was confident. Sure of herself, or enough to fake it to the whole town. She rarely showed any fear or apprehension.
"When you and Chloe were on your trip, I tried to practice outside." She muttered, staring at the food that could survive an apocalypse laid out in front of her. It was almost embarrassing to admit it. But it needed to be done.
"Yeah?" Max grinned slyly. "Did you conjure up a big storm?"
"More like the wind completely stopped." Rachel said so deadpan that it was almost sad. She was really taking her new discovery seriously; a hint of disappointment was laced in her voice.
A small bell suddenly rang from the other side of the diner, signaling that an order was ready to be taken out to the customer. Then another ring. It was just the beginning of lunch hour, and the hungry people of Arcadia Bay needed to be fed or there was going to be a dire situation on their hands. Max was already starting to untie her apron and Rachel did the same, walking back into the kitchen to grab the two plates filled with burgers and fries. The main chef nodded at them before going back to cooking more orders.
"You probably just need more time to get used to it." The door creaked open as Max held it open, letting Rachel go ahead of her into the main area of the diner. A long line was taking up the cramped entrance, and nearly every table and seat was taken. They had a lot ahead of them. It was going to be difficult to have a serious talk then yet she would try to make it work. She knew that Rachel was likely not going to admit it but having someone else to talk to about it was exactly what Max needed to be for her. A guide or a friendly ear to lend.
"It's freaking me out, Max." Rachel placed the plate down at the booth where an older man was sitting, who was more eager about his food than making any polite gestures, before walking after Max to the next table. "I don't want to hurt someone with it."
"You won't." Max shook her head assuredly. "You're not that kind of person."
Her plate was given to a lonely woman who was casually reading the newspaper, but it was hard not to notice the large printing that was as ominous as it was annoying. Big, bold letters about the trial involving Mark Jefferson were sprawled out across the front page, still as apparent as ever. While none of them were called in for an interview or to talk on television about it, it was getting to the point that a press conference of some sort was going to happen soon. Max, Rachel, and Chloe were publicly known now, even if no one was addressing them as such. Any run-ins while working at the diner was kept to a minimum, since Joyce put an end to it early on when a smaller news crew interrupted their service training. Whatever she said seemed to deter the rest of the journalists in the town like bug spray used on pests. They never did come back.
"You don't know me enough, then."
A trucker, sitting up by the front, had waved for them to come over and refill his cup of coffee. Another bell rang. Someone yelled at the sports game on the TV. Rachel rushed back behind the counter to grab the coffee pot and took his mug to fill. Max hung behind, taking her second long break she didn't get enough of. Joyce was busy serving the rest of the customers, taking on way more than she could handle, but she never complained.
"Then let me learn." Max decidedly sat back on the last bar stool that was only open because the base was too wobbly for anyone other than the workers there to sit on. A safety violation was the last fee the diner needed. "I've been told I'm a good listener."
Max was open and willing to hear her out, which was nice, though Rachel really wasn't sure who would want that. Too many packed away secrets and lives only she knew about. Chloe was aware of the broader picture but never the details. So many crossed out names on the list of fixing whatever broken life she created for herself, that mentioning the fact that well over fifteen grand was now safely tucked away in the money jar at Chloe's house was a different type of headache.
"I'm hiding so much shit, Max. From you and Chloe." Rachel sighed as she leaned down onto the surface of the countertop, ruffling her hair in an overly stressed way. More orders had to be taken and food was getting cold in the window. Max sat quietly, waiting. "We have enough money to leave and as of now, you're the only one who knows."
Max blinked.
"I couldn't tell Chloe because I–" She stopped herself right before saying any more. It was truthfully the first time she ever said any of it out loud, and it was the kind of thing that she didn't want to think about more than she had to. It was a complicated situation. There was never going to be an easy way to handle a large sum of money coming from a strained relationship with her parents. Plus, her own selfish reasons for hiding it felt wrong. It was a distinct contrast to every single thing that she had claimed to be, and saying anything different felt like she was denying her very self. Whatever. She sighed. People can change. "I guess I like the fact that we don't have to pay rent right now." The frayed edges of her uniform polo was causing her to pull at the strings. This really shouldn't have been a difficult topic to talk about. "Or do anything you're supposed to do if you live on your own."
"Damn, superpowers and a secret stash of money? And I thought my life had too much drama." Max admitted, even though she was well aware of her own mentions of intense revelations. Usually in bad places and wrong timings.
"Welcome to my world." Rachel grumbled. Drama came easily to her, even if she wasn't starring in a school play. From accidental to very much intentional meetings with problematic people, to healing and talking about what she wanted out of life, nothing went smoothly. There was always something. Or someone in the way. She reached out for the empty napkin holder and briefly reached around the corner to grab the pack of extras, beginning to refill it. She needed to do something with her hands, as smoking inside of a crowded restaurant wasn't going to happen. She didn't have the same type of habit as Chloe did, but when there was nothing else to do that's how she coped with life. She would have done it a year ago, not giving a fuck what anyone else would do, yet something changed. Matured. Thinking about consequences was slowly making itself known as the days went on.
"But you need to tell Chloe. She deserves the truth." Max caught her arm and took a hold of it, stopping her midway. She looked into her eyes intensely. This was something that she was very familiar with, and she wasn't going to see Chloe get hurt in the process. Things were going too well, if not a bit strangely, to cause a strain in anyone's relationship. "Don't make the mistake of waiting until the last minute. Trust me, it doesn't end well."
"This was with her dad, right?" She assumed, and was correct after Max nodded. But she heard the stories. The tears and anger lashed out. Rachel put the napkins down and sat down with her. It was taking a turn into a place she needed advice from. "Max, I can't even imagine."
"I could barely make it to William's funeral. There was no chance of me ever saying goodbye." Max spoke softly, head bowed down as she remembered. It was the worst day of her life, one that she tried to fix but ended up causing more destruction. She had the opportunity that entire day of telling Chloe that she was leaving for Seattle, yet when she finally chose to, Chloe's life was starting to end. Joyce entering the front door crying right as they were just figuring out the plan to never let each other go. The doubt before the deep reaction of a gut feeling being true. Max didn't know what to do then. She tried to do anything to help but was quickly ignored. Drops of water were felt against her leg. She was starting to tear up thinking about it all over again. It was too much. A friendly hand was then laid on her shoulder, comforting her. "What I'm trying to say is that I get it." Max sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her palm. That particular day was always going to be a soft spot in her memory. "You don't want to tell her because she'll overreact and shut you out. I worried about that, too. But she'll react even worse if you never say anything."
Protecting someone you cared about from the truth always came at the cost of hurt.
Aside from having an uncomfortable conversation that Rachel knew she needed to have, she was truthfully never in love with the idea of living out from a camper for an extended period of time like Chloe had wanted either. Which was a large factor in her decision to keep it hidden. She understood what Max was saying, and could empathize with her because this wasn't the first time she chose to hide information. Yet at the same time, she knew that her reasoning was very different. Chloe's plan was going to be a hell of a lot more work than she realized, and seeing her disappointment when the day finally came that they were stranded out in the desert was a problem she wanted to avoid all together. It wasn't like she was leaving her to go live somewhere else, it involved a sense of inner knowing that Chloe was going to take the money and buy the camper all in the same day.
And Rachel was not ready for that.
She needed a warning, at least. Or a week to mentally prepare herself for digging a hole in the sand–hopefully not accidentally sitting on a cactus–because the toilet clogged for the fifth time that week. And it wouldn't be for a lack of plumbing, it would be because none of them wanted to empty out the tank sitting underneath the camper because it was disgusting. Draining out sewage, waste, and shit wasn't for the weak. She read all about it online. They didn't call it a 'Poo Pile' for nothing.
"What about after she hears that I inherited twenty-five thousand dollars? Does Max Caulfield have a magical solution for that?" Rachel asked amusedly, seeing the fact that she really wasn't that upset anymore but was having a brief moment. No big deal, she reasoned. If she thought hard enough about her past she would probably have cried too.
But Max was taken completely off guard.
"Holy shit." She whispered, eyes wide and shock spreading across her face. She assumed a couple hundred, maybe a few thousand. Not paying for a two bedroom apartment for the better half of a year. "I might not be made of magic but that's a lot of money."
This was big. Life changing.
A hint of regret was felt by both of them, not just for sharing each story but for realizing the gravity of the situation. All of the talks and planning done could have been thrown to the side. Neither of them had to work at the diner now. In the end, Max never got the chance to ask all the questions she wanted to. Oh, but there were plenty to keep them busy enough to be on break all day.
"See? It's not something you can just casually share with someone." Rachel remarked, laughing back knowing that it really wasn't something that most people would take lightly. Neither did she the night it happened.
Another bell rang from the kitchen and Joyce was working her way up to the customers who were nearby. There was no more time for emotional revelations that everyone in the vicinity was hearing loud and clear. It was unfortunate given the circumstances now, since Max really wanted to be nosy and ask Rachel if she had bought anything since acquiring the cash. A secret car; splurging on designer clothes. Max would have gotten something , likely a new camera. Living large in Arcadia Bay never meant just sitting on stacks of money and waiting. Should she ask her for some cash? Was it too soon? Too vain? Too many opportunities, too little time.
"Okay, even if we don't leave now," Max peeled herself away from the seat and started walking back to the kitchen to hopefully quiet the obnoxious ringing. Rachel followed close behind. At the very least, they were both going to make sure that their shift would be completed for Joyce. She didn't deserve to do everything by herself when it was the peak business hours. The door swung back open and the smell of grease filled the air. "If you don't tell Chloe by the end of the day, I will."
Her words had come across harsher than she meant for them to, but it didn't seem like Rachel was taking it that way. She heard an exaggerated scoff from behind her as she found her apron again to join the staff in the cooking area.
"Is that a threat, Caulfield?"
"I'd like to think of it as a gentle push in the right direction." Max briefly turned around and winked. Everyone needed a little encouragement every once in a while, even if they were suddenly superpowered and not as perfect as others made them out to be. Plates of food were already set out and ready to be handed to the customers that ordered them, leaving the next few hours busy with work.
It was a brief distraction to a conversation that was going to be revisited again. And soon.
Three knocks on the plastic door.
Three muffled yells from outside.
Three barks by Pompidou running throughout the RV.
Frank was sleeping hard, resting back in the driver's seat with a baseball cap covered over his eyes. His dreams were filled with night terrors which only started after one particular day several weeks ago. Fire burned ablaze and scorched everything in sight. Sometimes it was the pictures, other times it was people he knew, and more recently they included random individuals whom he had never seen in his life.
A small tug on his pant leg from the dog that wasn't a little puppy anymore, then a much harder bite was what eventually woke him up. Everything was starting to come into focus. The world was now less of an imagination and was showing how washed up he really became when he took off his hat. A dirty white tank top, covered in beer and spilled beans, covered the scars on his chest from old knife fights as a teenager. His hair stuck to his scalp, greasy and smelled like cheap liquor.
"I don't have all day, Frank." The voice yelled out, clearer than ever. He knew every single person in Arcadia Bay just from the way they walked, but it was like child's play when he could hear them speak.
It was none other than Chloe Price.
The one person he really did not want to see ever again, aside from Rachel, was standing just outside the first step, arms crossed and looking like she was huffing and puffing for a while as she waited for him to open the door. The infamous rusty truck was nowhere in sight but had to be nearby, Frank assumed. He could only tell so much from the shattered and boarded up windows that covered the RV. The one thing he did know was that she had a lot more patience than he did.
His hand gripped the door handle and twisted it open, wobbling out and holding tightly onto the wall to steady himself. The hangover was yet to be gone and any slight movement he made was giving him an even worse migraine. Chloe immediately stepped back, bracing herself for whatever she thought he was about to do, but was surprised when he just stood there.
"What do you want?" Frank snapped tiredly, while the words sounded too melded together to make sense. He watched Chloe look like she wanted to say something but she never did. "You're not getting high for free again."
"I'm not–" She frowned and shook her head, already beginning to approach the RV with Frank still standing in the doorway. "I need to talk to you about something important."
Important. What was so important that she needed to wake him up for?
There were a lot of ways this conversation could go, but he wasn't stupid. He assumed from the very start that Rachel told Chloe all about the destruction she caused, just so she could prove her commitment. Or something like that. He wasn't into all of that shit like she was. But Chloe casually deciding to talk to him after avoiding him like the plague was already getting on his nerves. She somehow had mustered the audacity to confront him on his own turf. Was Rachel waiting out in the truck, watching and planning for this very moment? He didn't like the look of this one bit.
Chloe stood mere inches away from him, face already scrunched up from the smell emitting from the RV, testing how far she could take it.
"If you even mention Rachel's name," Frank spat out onto the ground but she didn't even flinch. "I will fuck you up. Don't do it, Price."
"Yeah, got it." She raised her arms in acceptance and sighed. "I won't talk about her."
A small effort to move to the side to let her in was made, but it wasn't without some struggle. The effects of heavy liquor so early in the morning was showing.
"I wanted to ask you about a loan." Chloe said from behind him; the floorboards creaked on each step and her boots clomped behind him as they both were walking up towards the front. "I know it's a lot to ask, but…" Pompidou was right in with them both, weaving in and out of each of their feet to the point that someone was going to trip. "I need one to fix up my truck."
"A loan?" Frank raised an eyebrow as he sat back down in the driver's seat, letting Chloe take the other one. "That's great, actually." He bent over to reach inside of the cooler and took out two ice cold beers. The cap popped open after hitting it off of the dashboard and a cool mist rose out from the top. Chloe met Frank's extended hand for cheers, where the glasses clinked before either of them took their first drink. He didn't really know why he did it, but figured that there was no harm in being decent to someone that didn't look like she was going to cause any problems. Maybe his initial judgment of her was wrong.
"Wait, really?"
"No." Frank just looked at her. "You still can't pay me back for the last three years. A loan? You're kidding."
If he had a quarter for every time he had to nag her for paying him back for all of the weed, favors, and other shit that he never agreed to, he would be rich. It wasn't like Frank enjoyed it either, but the list of names had to be checked off or he was going to deal with more threatening people that were going to cause worse problems than he ever could.
"Not everyone is made of money, Frank." Chloe rolled her eyes but was interrupted by Pompidou scratching at her leg until she finally gave in to pet him. "What do you expect me to do? Lie? I need this."
" I need the cash first." Frank insisted. "Then we can talk."
He was running out of patience quickly, but it didn't seem like Chloe cared all too much. The notebook lying down on the ground, knocked over from yet another long night of recklessly throwing his life away, was filled with marks upon marks of ifs and whens. Promises then broken ones. Frank knew that he wasn't going to be fully paid back by her. If it hadn't happened yet, it wasn't looking good for the future. He could easily rely on Nathan, helping him supply goods to Blackwell, but anyone else was written in red letters like a hit list.
It was bad enough for Chloe to even visit him in the first place, because ever since the beach disaster he didn't know what to expect from either her or Rachel. They were live bombs ready to explode at the second either of them didn't approve of something he did. He was always getting the short end of the stick at the cost of himself. He was a dealer, not a relationship counselor. But he could see her mind twisting and turning, holding back on talking about what happened with Rachel—either for closure or revenge, he guessed—with every passing moment adding onto the fear that she really was going to say it. It was hard to believe and trust that it was about a loan. He knew her enough to know that it wasn't the only thing she wanted to confront him with.
"What if I told you that I could get it to you in a week." Chloe said, throwing the question out and not expecting anything back. She had been mulling over an idea in the quiet time that took hold, sipping back on her beer and enjoying the dog that was definitely picking favorites. She might as well keep the RV for herself and kick Frank onto the street because she looked like she owned the place.
But there was no way she was remotely serious.
"I'd like to see you try." Frank scoffed. "You just told me that you don't have any money. Like I'm going to believe any of the shit that you say."
Chloe shook her head and confidently held out her hand for a handshake.
"One week. You get the cash, I get the loan."
"How do I know you're not fucking with me?" Frank didn't shake her hand just yet, leaving it out and ready for disappointment. He was far too intoxicated to have any rational thoughts, and couldn't stop the small amount of intrigue that he was feeling, but he really did want to see her try. He knew that she was more than capable of doing whatever she needed to get out of debt, but the question was how.
"I know someone who'll be able to help me out." Chloe added, smirking and moving her hand once more to see if he would take it.
And despite everything telling him not to, he did.
"Deal." Frank gripped her hand hard and shook it. It felt like it was as binding as a signed agreement, although it wasn't a terrible deal—that was if she was telling the truth. "But if it's one day late," He was still holding onto her hand and pulled it roughly, making sure that she knew how serious this was for the both of them. There was a lot he could do, or people he could call. The offer of vengeance was waiting for him to take but he wasn't sure if it was worth the struggle. He sighed. "Just don't test me."
Loud noises coming from the garage was never a good sign, especially when the door was just cracked open enough to show a warm light shining out from it. Chloe was not alone like she was planning for, going in and out of the house as she was bringing in some shopping bags and supplies for a promise she had made to Rachel back in the Amber's house. It was made emotionally and a bit off the cuff without any other reasoning than feeling guilty. She had gotten called out for the lack of dates and effort she was supposed to be putting in and she was not going to be able to live that down. She had only been home for several minutes carrying a bouquet of roses behind her back just in case Rachel had gotten off her shift from work early and would be hanging out by the stairwell, seeing what exactly her surprise would be, but the only other person home seemed to be someone with an annoying mustache.
Just as Chloe was locking the front door, keys jingling in her hand, an unexpected crash came from inside the garage. It was strong enough to shake the entire house, and certainly enough for her to want to check out what exactly David was doing. She really didn't want to have any sort of interaction with him, especially after seeing Frank that same day, but whatever dropped sounded big. Important, maybe. She carefully placed her hand on the handle and stepped into the garage.
David was working on something with his back to her, not turning around at the squeaking door that Chloe tried so hard to muffle. At least it didn't seem like he cared that she was there. She stepped down into the main part of the garage and looked around. The light she saw earlier came from the small workbench lamp that was clamped on the cabinets above him. The trunk to his car was opened as well as one of the side doors. Metal boxes, latched shut without any knowing of what could be mysteriously inside, were stacked carefully in the car.
"Chloe, will you hand me that box of .22s?" David briefly gestured to the small box of ammo that was at an arm's length from her. His tone was surprisingly calm for not making a single effort to restore whatever relationship they had left.
To try and avoid any further problems for that day, Chloe reached over for the box sitting on the table and started walking over to him with it. It was not full, likely an older box, as the ammo was clanging on every step. But the more she got closer to him, the more that it was clear that he was working on assembling an assault rifle that was nowhere near being finished. It wasn't a huge problem since she knew of his own stash of weapons not so secretly hidden in the corner, but a little daunting to see one in person like that. It was a large gun. Bigger than she imagined them to be.
"Are you going somewhere?" She handed over the ammo and stood next to him, noticing the cases that were stacked near the back tire of his car, not just including the ones in it. "That's a shit ton of guns."
"The shooting range." David said with his concentration only partially there to have a complete conversation, skillfully cleaning out the barrel before installing the muzzle which rested in an unopened plastic package to his right. He pointed off to the back end of the garage at the shelves without even looking. "Grab those two earmuffs for me while you're at it."
Chloe didn't do it right away, both from finding what he was doing mildly interesting and the fact that she didn't want to be bossed around anymore than she had to. If she wanted to take orders, she wouldn't have lied to her own mother about skipping work just to secretly meet with Frank. She had to talk to him though, even if it hurt to do so. Rachel warned her about him, saying that he was unstable and dangerous, yet he seemed fairly calm when she spoke to him earlier. She knew that it couldn't have been a lie, because Rachel was far too upset to make something like that up. But regardless of Frank, the Santa Monica dream was going to be just a dream if she didn't get the whole money part figured out soon. Fall was quickly approaching despite the calendar showing August. Time was not on her side.
"Don't you just need one?" She slowly walked back over to the shelves and took the earmuffs off from their hangers. Disobeying David while presumably loaded weapons were around was a situation she did not want to find herself in. The earmuffs themselves looked more like headphones than something to prevent hearing damage, now dangling off her hands as she brought them back over. "Or is someone else going with you?"
"You are." David turned to her and grinned, tossing his rag from applying oil off to the side and going back to his car to close the trunk.
There was nothing more that he said and he didn't need to. A few taps on the top of the hood was telling Chloe exactly what he wanted. It was the last thing she ever wanted to do, but there was absolutely no way of getting out of it. No amount of complaining or getting angry at the fact that this was how he wanted to talk to her was going to help. She sighed. Nothing like spending quality time with David Madsen.
"Oh. You again." Victoria said with as much attitude as she usually brought, rolling her eyes when she instantly noticed Rachel behind the main counter filling up the coffee machine. The chime hanging above the door rang after her as she walked into the diner after the rush of customers were long gone for the day. She sported her typical cashmere sweater and carried a bag on her side too large to be a purse but too expensive for a tote bag.
"Always a great day seeing you, Victoria." Rachel shot back, playing the little act and giving it right back to her. The surprise was completely fake, like the rest of Victoria's persona, because if she really didn't want to see her then she would never visit the diner again. But this time was a different encounter than she was used to. The lack of her faithful minions following her every move were gone. It was strange, but nothing to write home about. Rachel had just assumed that she was only there to take a break from the day, or that she was there to bother her. The two were not exclusive. "Want the usual?"
"Yes, actually." Victoria slumped down at the counter and tossed her bag on the bar stool next to her. "Ugh. It's been a day." An irritated sigh was given from the heavy amounts of stress she was carrying with her that she wanted sympathy for. Sympathy she wasn't going to get.
There were a plethora of available seats open, but she decided to take the spot in the dead center with the best view of everything the diner had to offer. Still as run down as ever, but that was its charm. A quick glance over to the right showed Max busy wiping down the tables. She weaved around the stacked dishes for another time to pick up, spraying some kind of green liquid before each wipe. Every booth was completely empty. Past the kitchen stood a worker taking a break from the previous lunch hour. So much for fast service. If Victoria hadn't announced her presence so loudly when she walked in, no one would have even noticed her being there.
Rachel was still busy working on brewing another serving of coffee, looking far too bored to convince anyone that she loved her job. Something dinged off in the distance, likely a timer, then a plastic bottle filled with the cleaning solution was placed down the counter from Victoria. Max tiredly threw her rag over her shoulder, popping up the divider to go speak with Arcadia Bay's apparently new barista.
"Need any help?"
"I think I've got this one figured out." Rachel teased as she was starting to put the box of paper filters away for another coffee-filled day. Although in all truth, she wouldn't have minded an extra hand. The machine was as simple as they got, which was reliving since there wasn't much to learn, but besides the pre-packaged coffee beans, the monotony of the late afternoon was starting to get to her. She looked over at Max who seemed slightly disappointed in her answer, wanting a way out from her own task of cleaning off the syrup from the tables. She tried to think. "You could get some silverware from the back. Or try to convince Joyce to let us off early."
"The first option sounds more promising." Max nodded and smiled back weakly, going on her way to start the mission of acquiring a clean fork and knife from the kitchen.
There was nothing quite like spending working hours with Victoria Chase, even more so when she was too busy on her phone to make any conversation. That was the only thing Rachel had going for her. Joyce was nowhere to be seen, though was likely outside taking a smoke break, and no one else was around to save her from whatever interaction she was going to have. She knew that there were questions and preconceived judgments into what exactly happened at the party three weeks ago. And she knew just how much Victoria wanted to push and pry into her life, tell her how much of a fuck up she was. If anything, she needed to get it over with already.
The coffee machine made a sound indicating that it was done, and was steaming hot out from the pot as Rachel poured it into a mug, providing a moment for her to appear busier than she actually was. One of the chefs in the back slid out a plate with a piece of freshly baked cherry pie and a side of vanilla ice cream through the window, just as Max was pushing the heavy door back open with an extra set of utensils in her hand to give to the only customer in the diner.
"Thank you." Victoria smiled fakely before rolling out the napkin across her skirt. It wasn't a place to have proper etiquette in, but she couldn't handle not doing it at all. A single drop of pie on her clothing was going to be the last straw. "I got a call this morning from my parents." She muttered, digging right into her afternoon treat that Rachel had given her. It wasn't the worst cherry pie she'd ever had, considering that it was her usual. "They said that they wanted me to take over their art gallery."
"In Seattle?" Max asked from afar, resuming her cleaning duties.
"That's the one." Victoria nodded and took another bite before sighing to herself. The stress of moving out of a town that she had built so much in was a lot. And considering that the sole reason she even came to the small fishing town in the first place was for a now dead photographer, the entire situation felt shitty. "Like, I get it. Blackwell doesn't have Mark Jefferson there and without him, there's no point in even finishing out high school if I can just do it somewhere better."
"What about all of your friends here?" Max's fears and her own past experiences were showing just in the way she asked it. Victoria picked it up immediately.
"I can make new ones, Max. Unlike you, I have a social life."
"That's a little harsh, Victoria. Don't you think?" Rachel snapped back, giving her the nastiest glare she could manage. She had been leaning against the small fridge that sat next to the coffee machine, leisurely hanging back to watch whatever weird confrontation was happening. There was no way Victoria was going to take her sweet time eating a slice of pie that she didn't even deserve, just to stir shit. Rachel might now have the money but not the time or patience for it.
Max thankfully didn't appear to be too affected, though it was always hard to tell what she was thinking.
"Shit, yeah I guess." Victoria rubbed her forehead. The half eaten pie was pushed to the side for now because a headache was starting to appear. One that only came out when people annoyingly questioned her. "Nothing has gone right since the party and I'm fucking stressed out."
Rachel and Max exchanged glances from across the diner, but nothing needed to be said to know what either of them were thinking.
"The one you decided to be all weird about?" Victoria suddenly exclaimed, looking up from giving herself a head massage and pointed directly at Rachel. "What happened out there? You totally bailed on us, Rachel."
The moment in question was happening. The one topic she so desperately did not want to talk about, because if she thought hard enough about it, it would cause an identity crisis, was said. To her. There was no way she could get out of it this time. Max was strolling over to join the conversation, feeling a tinge of empathy for her for not wanting to get into the details of a supernatural experience that was never understood from the moment it happened. It wasn't like Rachel knew how exactly to explain what she saw. She could barely do it to Max. But Victoria? Where would she even begin without being center stage for potential harassment?
"I saw something." She forced out, feeling the silence too constricting to not say something. "But it doesn't matter."
"Did someone spike your drink? What the hell did you see?" Victoria laughed mockingly. There was no way that Rachel Amber saw something so crazy that she wouldn't want to talk about it. She'd seen enough fucked up things in her life to have not a lot phase her anymore. Hell, she was already living in a fucked up mess. But Victoria was going to get it out of her no matter the cost.
Rachel and Max met gazes again, but now with a mutual understanding of what needed to be done. There wasn't much to risk anyway, considering the fact that either Victoria was going to think that she was crazy or not believe her. It wasn't going to change anything. If anything, it was going to be a good test to see if Chloe's theory about string theory was close to being true with a reality switch. Rachel wanted to trust in it so bad. Nobody knew what completely changed yet, relying on conversations and details shared to compare. The world had been much quieter since the event.
"Kelly Davis was wrapped inside of a body bag, dead ." The words felt heavier than anything else she had ever said. Max nodded beside her.
"Kelly Davis had been missing for years," Victoria's face went pale just at the description everyone in the room could clearly picture. She had no memory of it, or anything relating to that girl at the party. It was the first time she had even heard of that name since early high school. "That whore wasn't at the party. If she was, I would've been the first to know about it."
"But she was at the party," Max frowned, and gestured to Rachel. "We saw her."
"So, are you two seeing dead people or something? What's going on with you?" The headache was dizzying now, painfully stabbing her all over. The mere thought that they weren't joking caused Victoria to rub her temples and sigh. Seeing something in the Prescott's cabin meant for doing crazy shit wasn't very surprising, but it was another to make up an entire story about a missing girl that didn't matter. Maybe coming to the diner was a bad idea.
"I wish I knew." Rachel shrugged.
Arguing with her was a losing battle. She wasn't going to open her mind for a moment and try to help either of them. The only thing she did was get more angry as the time passed.
"Between you," She looked up and harshly pointed over at Max, "and your trailer trash girlfriend," It was a tiny blow to Rachel but not enough for anyone to overreact. She had heard worse. "You've really gone downhill, Amber. It's sad. I can't wait to see how this little throuple of yours is going to fall apart." Whatever weird situationship or relationship the three had going on, Victoria assumed, was annoying in the very least. She couldn't resist calling it out, watching it unfold since day one and wanting to say something about it to their faces. They were all happy and she couldn't stand it. How could they be? All of them almost died and probably needed a lifetime supply of therapy. What a joke. "Let me know when it does, though." She smirked as she took a final sip of her coffee. "I'd love to show my followers."
"Why are you like this, Victoria?" Max finally snapped, walking straight up to her without a care in the world what she might say back. It was a last ditch attempt at fixing something else under her control. "Talking shit about people and for what? You did it the whole time at the party and you're still doing it now. I know you've got a good heart, I've seen it." She watched how quickly Victoria was getting uncomfortable, sinking into herself and glancing over at Rachel for an explanation, but there was nothing. She needed to hear what she was saying, one way or another. "There's no reason for you to be so insecure that you can't be happy with your own talent. Wouldn't it be better to lift people up than to bring them down? You could inspire people…"
"Go Max." Rachel added quietly from behind the counter. A little moral support didn't hurt anyone.
"Okay…I don't know what you're talking about now…I…" Victoria looked around impatiently, sensing that Max wasn't going to just quit right then at her weird spiel on something that was, oddly enough, exactly what she needed to hear. But she would never tell her that. Max really wasn't doing anything wrong; she stood there, maybe a bit too close to her, and was practically telling her to her face that she was talented. Was a compliment to stroke her ego going to help? She didn't need to put herself into the conversation she was clearly having with Rachel. It was hot and stuffy in the diner. She needed to get out of there. "Whatever. I'm a teenager at an art school," She shrugged, "I'm only in this shitty town to become a photographer and get famous."
"I don't want it to end this way, Victoria," Max shook her head and sat down next to her on one of the bar stools. "I know you're better than this. You can change."
The large door connecting the main part of the diner to the back of the kitchen shot open with Joyce appearing, wearing a look that was clear that she overheard everything that was said and wanted to be part of it. Counseling teenagers and their problems wasn't on the paycheck and she wasn't going to put it on one either. Her presence was enough to light a fire beneath Victoria, who was already getting her bag ready to leave.
"I better go." Victoria sharply sighed and decided quickly without wasting a moment to hurry out the main doors. Whether she was actually going to do anything with that information…she didn't even know.
Gunshots and clinks of fired off ammunition shells falling onto the pavement every couple of seconds could barely be heard through the hearing protection David made sure Chloe brought with. It was definitely more fun shooting at actual targets than random broken bottles around the junkyard; ones that no one had to search for an ungodly amount of time for. They had been at it for some time, keeping quiet and letting the rhythm of the activity take over. The idea to take her out to the range just out of town to teach her the proper shooting technique was a passing thought he had but one that to him, sounded promising. It was difficult to get her to do anything, so the fact that she sucked it up to come with was a good start for the both of them.
David had just burned through his rounds, already starting to take out the magazine in the pistol and sat it down on the provided table at his stall. Chloe wasn't finished yet with hers, opting for precision over the fast approach. There was a time and place for both; he knew that all too well from being in war. A gentle but commanding hand was placed on her shoulder after her last shot, just light enough to not cause her to flinch. Chloe sighed and put the gun down to face the ground.
"There comes a point where a man needs to protect his property." David pulled down his earmuffs and leaned against the table, careful not to knock any of the loose bullets off. "And the ones he loves."
"Cool. I'm not a man." Chloe said coldly, following his moves and taking the wooden support beam next to her instead. There was obviously something planned; he wouldn't have pulled her out to an expensive and overly secure gun range for the fun of it. It was also not the first time that he had talked to her about this sort of thing, but at least in the past she could avoid it if she timed it around her mom being in the general vicinity. Now, she was completely alone with him.
The horror.
"No, but there's an important life lesson that you're missing." He shook his head and started to dig inside of his back pocket for a small booklet. Chloe just watched him, not saying a word. "When faced with an obstacle, having the correct information can save your life. Here," He handed it over to her to flip through. "I want you to have this."
The book was a pocket-sized survival guide, made from old recycled cardboard and was well worn from lots of use. It read ' Department of the Army Field Manual: FM 21-76. Survival. For David Madsen .' Just great, she thought. If learning how to properly shoot a gun was first, what came after? Were they going to camp in the forest for a month with no gear other than their bare hands next?
Everything was starting to come full circle now. The pipeline to going full-on Bear Grylls was happening too quickly.
Upon initial inspection, the cover was instantly recognizable. It was the exact same book Chloe had seen in the garage the night before Max ran off to the barn. She remembered reading through some of the pages, trying to understand the bizarrely conspiracy coded sentences that didn't make sense.
"Living in a camper tells me that there will be threats around." David continued with his own speech, one that was most definitely planned the night before. "People, animals, and other ."
"Other?" She raised her eyebrow and smirked. If 'other' meant aliens, or something much worse that was told in secrecy in the military, then they were both at the wrong place. They should be hanging out in a crop circle and not some highly commercialized gun range. While he did always keep a few things locked up, and he easily could have seen something she should know about, it was totally about aliens.
"Always be prepared." He nodded and went back to loading up another pistol he had brought with him, a vintage 1911 that was taken from a wooden box. The engraving on the metal was extremely intricate. Impressive, even. "Let's say that you hear a knock on your door in the middle of the night. There's no one else around. What do you do?"
Chloe shifted around, not quite sure what David was wanting her to do. He looked ready to go back to shooting but it was hard to talk over a gun firing. And he was still not done with his lecture. What was this, military prep school?
"Uh, don't answer the door?" She blinked.
David nodded.
"Now the attacker breaks the door and enters. It's a sudden life or death situation."
He gestured over to the 1911 resting on the table beneath her, prompting her to pick it up. It was certainly one way to get the point across, maybe a bit too direct, but she could handle it for now. The barrel was aimed at the target placed roughly ten feet away.
"Very good." David seemed content, almost happy . It was a very rare moment for him to say anything nice about Chloe—even more so to her face. And she was going to take that and run with it. He grinned and came up closer behind her, watching her every move and position on the handle. "Now, let's say that the attacker is just as prepared. They are armed, too."
A gunshot went off, dead center of the target.
"Chloe, you are a natural." He patted her on the shoulder and laughed. "If I would've known that you were better than me, then I would've had you teach me instead."
Chloe just stood there, feeling awfully proud of herself but incredibly on edge. There was nothing she could even say back. She didn't know how. From a man that aggressively made her take a breathalyzer test in front of everyone, to the verbal attacks for years of not going to school and fucking over her life, she didn't want to trust it. People could change, some more than others, but at what cost?
A larger gun, this time more similar to a hunting rifle was taken out of a carrying case.
"Now I want to see you shoot something like this." David pulled back the bolt to make sure it wasn't loaded. The rifle had a scope on it and a short magazine, but it didn't make Chloe any less hesitant. "The bullets for this are smaller than a nail." He rummaged in the box of .22s and took one out to show her. "This thing barely bites back, you'll be just fine."
"What, are you expecting me to go hunting ? I'm not killing some animal just for the fun of it." She frowned, sitting down at the chair provided at the shooting stall for larger rifles like the one David had. It was getting more real. She bent in closer to look down the scope but didn't touch anything else out of fear for getting yelled at.
"You will if you don't have any food to eat and you're living with two other people who are just as hungry."
"But why me? Why do I have to be the one to do all of this shit? Rachel and Max are just as capable as I am." The question she had wanted to ask all along. The one that made her feel more responsible and pressured than anything else. Deep down, she knew why she was the one taken instead of anyone else. It was the only logical answer. David was never technically wrong in his choice, insinuating his idea of heteronormativity onto a relationship that went against his own grain. He never spoke ill of Chloe and Rachel being together, and didn't seem like that type of person, but there was always the what if.
"I know that, but someone needs to be the leader of the group." He sat down next to her. Giving fatherly advice based on his own life experiences was something that did not come easy to him. There was a lot on the line, too. Like completely destroying any relationship he had left with her. "There can be multiple leaders, but there can never be none. As my own step-daughter, I just can't stand the idea of no one looking out for all of you. I need this to be you, Chloe."
The weight of the world was crashing hard on her. Suddenly and without warning. Was he really the one to blame for being concerned?
Chloe's plan was huge, and while she never thought about it enough to realize just how much work it took to not only live around two other people, but to stay in a remote area, it was a small but mighty wake up call. She needed to get her shit together. Even if that didn't mean eating MREs out of the back of a tank in some kind of military simulation, no plan meant failure. Not being ready for whatever was going to come up, meant disaster.
The woman at the festival in Portland was creeping her way back into her mind. A little palm reading couldn't have meant much, but when the same information was being repeated by other people it was becoming overly clear to Chloe that she had a big task in front of her. One that she was never prepared for.
"Do you really trust me enough?" Chloe mumbled quietly. It felt demoralizing to even talk about it. Talk about her fears and worries of never doing enough for the two that were always up to something. It wasn't her job to keep them both under her control; relationships were never meant to be built on distrust.
"I do." David nodded assuredly. "Because you've proven it to me."
"When? Because I'm pretty sure I've fucked everything up so far."
"The way you act around Rachel and Max. Your mother. You respect all of them. I've seen it with my very eyes, and you have clearly shown me that if something were to happen you would step up for them." David almost appeared to be choked up but for a lifetime of holding back any and every emotion, he cleared his throat and moved forward. He was too stoic for his own good, never letting his guard down for a moment.
The reason Joyce had picked him out of anyone else out beyond Chloe. She was seeing him try so hard to mend something , apparently without an apology or any other form of accountability for his actions. It was painful to watch. It was at least a good thing that the entire shooting range was empty so no one could hear the awkward step-father to step-daughter bonding moment that Chloe was frankly getting tired of. The advice was sound in its own way but she never asked for it to begin with. It couldn't get any worse from there, though, she hoped.
"So how is Rachel?"
Oh, it got worse.
"She's fine." Chloe frowned even more intensely and turned to look at him directly, but he was too focused on getting the hunting rifle set up to pay attention. From being a supposed leader to now the home protector, it was more than obvious where he was headed with it all along. Fuck.
"What is your future looking like together?" He pushed, still asking it as casually as ever now searching through the ammo box to start to fill up the magazine. "I know that you were going to live together, but what about staying committed? What's your plan for that?"
Chloe swallowed hard.
It was far from being the only time anyone had mentioned it to her, but it was a little odd that it was happening so much. The first was a coincidence, the second was on purpose. It was feeling eerily similar to when parents would push for grandchildren. Was that next? Would she have to look into donors or adoption just to fit society's mold? The white picket fence life was the most horrific thing imaginable. And little kids running around, screaming and crying? Chloe could feel her face getting red, and it wasn't from the summer's heat. She was angry. Boiling over in rage that no one was letting her just be. Live life without the constant questioning of why she was doing something.
Setting up a loan with Frank or buying the camper was even less so about actually wanting to do it, but for control. She had her own autonomy over her life and it gave her freedom. There was no waiting around for anyone else to mess up except herself. And she would damn well make sure that Frank would get his money once and for all.
"I will help you finance a ring, if that's something that you would like to do." David, once more, pushed a little bit harder while seemingly becoming overly invested in making sure his rifle was in the best condition before firing it. Though, it was looking more like he was stalling than actually preparing it.
"A ring? What the hell?" Chloe forcefully stood up from her chair and stepped back, wanting no part of where it was going. She was not going to be made to feel anymore guilty than she already was about it either. "It's way too goddamn early for a ring, David."
She knew that she was probably taking it too far, thinking and planning for the next big thing most people do, but if it started with engagement, it was only going to go downhill from there.
"Not always. I proposed to your mother after a couple of months." He shrugged, not letting her sudden attitude get to him.
Those months were a horrible memory that Chloe wished would've never happened. At least she wasn't alone, using Rachel as an outlet to get away from being home with the sudden infiltration of the mustache. She had called her an angel, saving her from all of the shit she found her life to become, and it was true. She still was.
"What's with everyone wanting me to get engaged?" Chloe grumbled, kicking some pebble off into the corner with the side of her boot. "It's hella annoying."
"It's what people who are serious about each other do. You need to start planning for these types of things, Chloe."
"That's a fuckton of pressure."
"So let me help you." David slowly stood up, realizing that the training session was admittedly over for the day and he wasn't going to get Chloe to use his special rifle. One that was inherited by his grandfather and was a hell of a lot of fun to shoot, but she made the choice, not him. He closed the lid to the ammo box as he walked over to her. "Do you know her ring size?"
"Why are you all up in my shit right now?" She hissed, "None of this is your business."
"Chloe." His stern tone only came out when he was irritated. Which was most of the time but hadn't happened yet that day. A long sigh was let out. "This is important. I wish you would see it like I do."
"I'm not having this conversation with you." Chloe had reached her breaking point. She couldn't just leave the place either, since she had gotten in David's car. The whole thing was a disaster that she should have seen coming. "I get it." She said quietly, close to a whisper because she didn't want to fight but it needed to end. "You want to help, but I don't need it. Not right now."
"Okay." David nodded solemnly. "Well, you have my support if you ever decide to go further with her."
The beach at night was as calming as it was scary, considering the fact that Rachel couldn't see anywhere that she was going. Waves crashing onto the shore, seagulls up above, and crickets making their nightly return. She was kicking through the sand and hoping for the best, alongside Chloe carefully guiding her from behind to a surprise destination that felt like a mile hike just to get to, holding onto her only anchor to reality.
"Chloe…" Rachel giggled, her eyes still shut by the hands wrapped around them. "What is this about?"
"Keep 'em closed, Amber!"
"Like I can see through your hands, you weirdo!" For such a long day at the diner, putting up with annoying customers and a run-in with Victoria Chase, a break from it all was so necessary. Although she really didn't want to think about it now, the looming thought of confronting Chloe about the money, the camper, and every other little thing she needed to say, didn't feel right. She couldn't. Not now. It not only was going to ruin a moment that was carefully thought out, but she never got to just let herself go for a while and let whatever needed to happen, happen. Max was absolutely going to rip her a new one for not saying anything, though.
It helped that it was only the two of them. Away from the house and even farther from people. There was no reason for anything to be disrupted.
When Rachel had gotten in Chloe's truck prior to arriving at the beach, there was no indication of what she had planned except a blindfold being waved in front of her face. At first it seemed almost too kinky, going with her first assumption that they were taking their adventures out of the bedroom, but then it was quickly shut down when she realized that the truck was driving somewhere far away. And it wasn't some five minute jaunt. There were no stops or opportunities to ask what was going on. Even so, she wasn't sure that she would have anyway. She trusted that she wasn't going to be taken somewhere just to be dropped off and forgotten about, or maybe thrown in the woods to be buried by her supposedly girlfriend-turned-kidnapper.
"Nearly there…" Chloe bent in close to her ear, having trouble herself seeing where she was walking and hoping that Rachel wasn't minding the accidental heel steps. She also shouldn't have set it up so far away, but hindsight was always twenty-twenty.
"You know, if you got a new tattoo between breakfast and now, you don't need to reveal it to me in a secret location…"
"It's not a tat. Though, now that you mention it…maybe it's time for a new one."
"Chloe!" Rachel rolled her eyes but it wasn't like anyone could see. At this point, the walk was becoming irritating. Whatever she had planned better have been good. "Come on, what am I here to see?"
Chloe's hands were finally lifted off from her face and everything was coming into focus. A big picnic blanket with food set out and wine bottles resting in a cooler, two small canvases and paint sets, rose petals lining the pathway and little candles sat around it. It was so adorable that it hurt. When Rachel had asked to be taken out on a date, she expected something more realistic—such as going out to eat somewhere like they were supposed to do. Not because of Chloe, or even money for that matter, but because she didn't feel like she deserved it.
"Oh my…" Rachel just stood there, taking it all in all at once. It was the first time anyone had ever done something like that for her. God, why didn't she ever think to do this. Is this what it felt like to actually be loved? Whatever it was, it was too much. "This is so cute. I can't believe you did this."
"You ask and I provide." Chloe grinned widely and brought her in for a quick kiss that was interrupted by being far too excited to show everything off.
The short walk over was making it even more real. Chloe stood proudly in front of her creation, knowing that she did a damn good job for something that she knew Rachel never expected. And it was perfect timing considering how weird everything had been lately. A break from the stress of the summer months was needed for the both of them.
"So what are we painting?" Rachel looked at her suspiciously, eyeing the paints and brushes. "You don't happen to need a model, do you?"
"Tempting, but I was thinking of something easier." Chloe smirked and pointed up to the stars in full display. There was a meteor shower planned for that specific night, which she made sure to remember and write down the exact time it was happening so that Rachel could see it. While it wasn't lying out in Joshua Tree National Park or resting between cacti in the desert to watch the stars all night, it was a little something that she had wanted to do while they were still in the Bay. A reminder of the future yet to come, but a promise she needed to keep. It was always about promises in the end.
"Chloe Price. What would I do without you?" Rachel reached up and wrapped her arms around the nape of her neck, drawing herself in closer and carefully not knocking over any of the candles. For being one to start a lot of fires, that was one thing she wasn't going to let happen that night. She had wanted to be close to Chloe all day, craving her touch so intensely that by the end of her shift it was the only thing she could think about. Her jacket, the one she always wore that smelled like smoke and engine oil, was now draped across her skin as she felt her arms around her waist.
She felt like home.
"Probably not have a date under the stars with your favorite person?" Chloe smiled, brushing a loose strand of the blonde hair behind her ear as gently as she could. The new earring dangled at the movement; a slight sway back and forth as the dance from the night the date was suggested in was resuming again.
"You do make a good point." Rachel nodded back but it was hard to muster up the words at all. She rarely found herself speechless, much less blown away by anything in the small town, but she knew that if she could stay in this moment forever, she would. No past or future, just the now.
The stars above were out in all of their glory; a beautiful display of the universe and all of its wonders. Chloe had just popped open the bottle of red wine, poured it into a glass stolen from one of the cabinets at home, and handed it over to Rachel. It wasn't cheap liquor, either. For how much she spent on it, it better have cooked them both dinner.
The two blank canvases were in front of them, ready to be splattered with paint strokes. It was relaxing. Calm. No distractions or people yelling from afar. The purple and blue sky melded onto the surface with each star showing as little white dots. There was a time that they had made friendship bracelets, now lost somewhere in the junkyard, but doing anything like this never happened.
"Do you ever think that the people we meet are supposed to be in our lives?" Chloe asked, focused too intently on getting the shade of the sky perfect to see Rachel's sparkling eyes. It was unexpected to just casually bring up, but deep questions after wine were a trademark specialty for her, something Rachel signed up for the first day they hung out. "Like," She tapped the bottom of the brush to her chin. "We're all connected."
"I'd like to think that all of this isn't just some accident." Rachel just shrugged. "That everything happens for a reason."
"But do you think there's more of us out there?" It was so hard to put into words what she wanted to say because she had been causally avoiding it for way too long. She hesitated and bit her lip. "Like people who can do crazy shit that looks straight out of a sci-fi movie? You know what I mean."
"Where is this coming from?" Rachel lightly laughed but it was hiding the fear that Chloe really knew all along. She thought it would look differently, though. Every time she had pictured it in her head, it was either disbelief or anger. A quiet moment of thought never came up. She knew that it was possible; Chloe always found ways to amaze her at the best times. But it was never like this. She could feel herself tensing up.
"I've seen it." Chloe muttered quietly and put her painting down so she wouldn't ruin it. "When you burned that picture of your dad at the park. During dinner with your parents after the play. The barn. The party."
It was getting too serious to take on any sort of art project. Rachel put her brush to the side and scooted closer to Chloe, forcing her to look at her. The moonlight was shining brightly against her eyes.
"Are you upset?"
"No," She shook her head. "But I look at you and Max and I just think about how left out I am. You both have something I don't and I'll never know what it feels like."
Seeing Chloe so visibly upset was like a knife straight to her heart. Excruciating wasn't a strong enough word. For something so complicated and admittedly weird as fuck, there was no right way to talk about it. It was never something either of them had planned on saying. They thought they were normal, following life like the rest of the world. Failed attempts at escape and doing whatever they wanted, whenever, was the new reality. Rachel had left her comfortable life behind, one filled with overachievement and being the perfect daughter to the perfect family, throwing it away for the so-called school dropout. She was used to change. She could handle it. But there was always something a little different about herself that couldn't be brushed aside.
For months after the fire, Rachel hoped that Chloe hadn't noticed anything. She never wanted to talk about it, laughing and playing under a ruse that it was an overreaction and not something outside of herself could cause. Then she ran. There was no escaping the forces trying to creep their way back into her life, with the distraction of new and shiny objects becoming less of a practical alternative. Chloe was put on the back burner, forgotten and ignored.
Having escaped for years, what felt like a divine intervention showed up exactly when she needed it most. A girl with something that was too unusual to stay quiet about. A broken mirror revealing the truth that she never wanted to see. She showed her that nothing in Arcadia Bay was normal. And maybe the world wasn't either.
How do you know which way is up when your entire world has been flipped upside down?
"You have so much that I wish I had, Chloe. You have no idea." Rachel finally spoke, her voice low and far more reserved than normal. Being vulnerable was not an easy task. Talking about something that should be left to movies, was unsettling. She reached out to take Chloe's hand in hers and held it tightly.
But she didn't respond.
It was far too easy to know what Chloe was thinking and feeling, with Rachel having what felt like a lifetime of knowing her to understand. Silence wasn't not not answering, if anything, it spoke volumes.
"Whatever's going on, you're never going to be left out from it." Her thumb grazed over the edge of Chloe's hand, going back and forth like how she always did it when she was trying to comfort her, but now it was Rachel's turn. She rested her head on her shoulder and looked out into the ocean. The stars twinkled on the surface of the waves. "There's so much that I don't understand and I don't think I ever will," She closed her eyes and smiled at the little image she loved replaying in her mind over and over again. One that she didn't know was possible but was shown it was. "But I won't have to do it alone. You'll always be with me, by my side, figuring out this shit together."
"Think you'd put up with me for that long?" Chloe laughed weakly, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it one more time. It felt too good to know that she was wanted. Pathetic, she knew, but was abruptly interrupted by Rachel leaning into the side of her face and kissing her cheek, then slowly around the back of her neck.
Distraction tasted too good to not change the subject into something more physical, even if that wasn't her intention when she answered. Chloe's arm was pushed out of the way and Rachel impatiently climbed on top of her, sitting snugly on top of her hips with no intention of moving. Any last line of defense was slowly being overcome. Her beanie was thrown off somewhere.
"What do you think?" Rachel challenged as she took a breath between the needy kisses. Warm hands were felt pushing underneath her shirt, but she was too much in control to let the tides switch over so quickly. She possessively grabbed onto Chloe's wrist and held her back, a move that sounded better in her head than in execution, resulting in both of them falling back into the sand.
"You would get tired of me." Chloe tried to tease back but it failed terribly as soon as she felt the flood of kisses that was going to destroy the entire town if she let it. She threw her head back, barely being able to surrender.
Stormy weather was no match for the hurricane that nobody saw coming.
"Yeah?" Rachel bit her lip and started to trace her fingers around the now exposed shoulders lying under her. Slower when things were heating up was always a dangerous sign of what was to arrive. "That's rich coming from you."
"Why?" Chloe whispered huskily. It was hard enough to even think, let alone say anything. Rachel irritatingly stopped right when she needed her most, pulling herself back up but not far enough to end it all right there. It left her exposed. She could feel her jeans feeling looser than usual with the belt buckle undone at some point. When exactly it happened, she had no clue. Everything was buzzing. It could have been one big act, just to get her worked up all for nothing, but it couldn't have been. Chloe couldn't have been left so vulnerable, laying on the ground to never be taken.
"You need me." The whisper heard was too demanding to speak.
The only thing Chloe could do was nod.
Rachel never liked waiting. She was hurting just as much as Chloe was, feeling her body strain from underneath her with such a strong urge to be touched that was hard to ignore. She fought back against the firm grip held around her waist and instead carefully reached out for the three little bullets that had seen too much over the years to be anything but worn. A finger was slipped and wrapped around the cord of the necklace, pulling her up by the neck. She gasped.
"And you're not getting rid of me that easily." Rachel narrowed her eyes and held Chloe there for a moment, debating how much she was going to test this 'getting tired' theory. If she was going to be so blind to the fact that Rachel wasn't going to go anywhere without her, she would have done this sooner.
But there was no time like the present.