The sound of an incoming Skype call jolted Max from The Last Unicorn. Lifting her eyes, she spotted the icon of Rachel's pink-lipped smile hovering over the answer button.

Wowsers. While they had been texting for the last three days since their weekend together, Max still couldn't quite get used to having someone calling every night like this. Nor could she quite get used to having Chloe blowing up her phone with texts every few hours.

But Max wasn't about to complain about all that attention. No sir, not a peep.

Jumping out of bed, she fumbled to her chair and clicked the answer button. She couldn't help but grin when Rachel's image popped up onscreen.

"Hey there, Maxie!" Rachel gave a little wave. "You doing okay?"

"I'm good, Rach. You?"

"Just super. And if ever I'm not, I promise you that Victoria would know about it in record time so she could be the first to hork it all over school. Was she much different in your timeline?"

"Not really, no," Max laughed.

"Ah, so it isn't because I exist—Victoria's just a bitch on principle."

"But there was this one timeline where she was my friend and—well, kinda obsessed with me. That was awkweird."

Rachel whistled. "You somehow made Victoria Chase worship the ground you walked on? Damn, Caulfield. You got hella more game than you let on."

From what little she could see of the background, Max could tell Rachel was sitting in her dorm. Why Rachel stayed in a dorm when she had a house in town was something Max thought to ask her sometime.

"Since Chloe hasn't arrived yet—as usual," Rachel was saying, "lemme ask real quick—did you ace that Chem exam just like we planned?"

Max had mentioned a couple of days ago that she was having a tough time studying for her exam, so Rachel had taken her under her wing, emailing her snapshots of organized notes with her own immaculate handwriting. Rachel had even spent a couple of hours tutoring her online.

Still, the question made Max want to hide under the covers. "Well, 'aced' is going a little too far."

"Oh c'mon, Max! I thought we were in it to win it! Please don't tell me we did those electron valence charts for nothing."

"Hey, don't worry, I passed! Or at least I think I did. Our study periods really helped, Rach. I couldn't have done it without you."

Rachel winked. "Then I'm happy to keep at it. If you have other subjects you need help with, just gimme a shout, okay?"

"Thanks, but don't you have your own schoolwork to worry about? I don't wanna be a burden."

"Max. No peeps of mine are gonna flunk out under my watch. It's the least I can do after all the help you've given me. Besides, if your grades start dipping, your folks won't let you come down to Arcadia Bay. Then we'd really be fucked." She inched closer to the screen. "Speaking of, did they say yes?"

Max let out an exasperated sigh.

"That's not what a 'yes' sounds like."

"They're kind of on the fence about it. My dad seems okay with me coming over—I guess there's some residual guilt over moving us out in the first place. But I need to work harder on convincing Mom. She's not happy with the thought of me spending most every weekend over there."

"Even if you tell them you made it into Blackwell?"

"You know I can't tell them that, at least not for another month."

"Hmm." Rachel fiddled with her earring. "Don't worry, we'll come up with something."

"What about you? Did you...um...you know."

"You must've given me a bit of your Irish luck, Max. Jefferson's been scarce. No one's seen him at Blackwell so far this week, thank God."

Max breathed a sigh of relief, even as a fresh bout of worry set in. It's been a few days now. If Jefferson hadn't tried anything, did it mean he suspected something was wrong? Was he plotting something? Or had he already found another victim? Kate was next in line—was she still alright?

Just as these worries started to coil around her belly, Rachel said, "Hang on a sec. Someone wants to butt in on the conversation."

A second pop-up appeared beside her screen. "Whassup, bitches?" Chloe boomed.

Max winced. "Not so close to the mike, Chloe."

"Yeah, yeah, great to see you too. Hey Rach, didja tell Max about the thing yet?"

"Uh," Rachel's eyes darted to the side. "I was just about to—"

"Quit stalling and spill it already—I've got my own stuff to share!" Chloe's wide, all-too-pleased grin told Max her friend was happy to not be the one in trouble this time. "Wait till you hear what she did, Max."

"Huh?" Max squinted at Rachel. "Did something happen?"

"Well, I—" The blonde forced a smile. "There's...actually something I need your help with, Max. It's kinda urgent."

"Um, sure. Anything."

Rachel was chewing her lip. "You know that convenience store on Tollman Street, right? Well, Chloe and I visited it over lunch so we could pick up some smokes. I was waiting for her in the parking lot, and I saw that it was kind of empty—"

Comprehension dawned on Max. "Rachel, you didn't!"

"Oh yes she did!" laughed Chloe.

"What did you try?" Max bent closer to the screen. "Were you seen?"

Rachel held up her palms. "I wasn't, honest! There was actually no one there! So I just thought, well, it might be a good time to practice—

"Which is why there's now a small tornado in the parking lot of the local Q-Mart!" Chloe fell back on her backrest, laughing fit to burst.

Max groaned. "Rachel, we agreed to wait!"

"I know, I know! Never in public. But look, I'm the type who learns by doing, and the place was deserted so I thought—"

"It's sure as fuck not deserted now!" Chloe said, pasting a link on the chat. Filled with dread, Max clicked on it. It opened to a livestream of said parking lot, apparently shot from a camera on a tripod. A small crowd had formed, all eyes on a tornado that looked to be at least ten feet tall and nearly opaque from the pieces of dirt, plastic, leaves, and cigarette butts it had sucked up.

"Five hours and counting," someone was saying offscreen, "This mini-twister's been here all afternoon. We got some meteorologists coming in tomorrow to study it because, shit, it's the weirdest fucking thing ever."

"Dude, check this out!" The camera panned to a blond boy in a sports vest hurling a monobloc chair into the whirlwind, which it proceeded to spin through the air like a toy.

"Oh Dog." Max put a hand against her forehead. It's been five hours?

"I was really trying to make it small, I swear," Rachel said. "And it's not like it's causing any trouble. I was kinda hoping it would go away on its own."

"Hope in one hand," said Chloe, "crap in the other, see which one piles up first."

Rachel was doing her level best to ignore her. "Do you think you can help me out, Max?"

Max sighed. Was this a preview of how things were going to be with her? "I'm not sure how, Rachel," she replied, muting the livestream. "I think our powers work differently. I always had to consciously activate mine whenever I rewound, and it always stopped whenever I stopped concentrating. But yours seems to stay active even when you're not thinking about it."

"Groovy," said Chloe, who had just opened a bag of chips and was making obnoxious crunching noises. "So is that tornado going to be a permanent feature of Arcadia Bay now? Maybe we can make a little money on the side by charging tourists to see it."

"I tried everything I could think of to make it stop," Rachel said. "Nothing worked. You're my last shot, Max." She shrugged, eyes brightening. "No pressure."

Max frowned. Somehow she couldn't shake the feeling that this was some sort of test. Well, regardless, they couldn't just leave that thing out there. What if it grew bigger? Or worse, started running amok in Arcadia Bay?

Max racked her brain for a solution. "Could you walk me through what you were thinking of when you used your powers?" she asked.

"That I could really use a good smoke," Rachel replied, simpering. "And that I would really, really like to use a tornado to throw Jefferson's ridiculously expensive car at his own head."

"Word," Chloe said. She propped her palm up against the right side of her pop-up screen, which Rachel high-fived from her left.

Max latched onto Rachel's last statement—maybe there was something there. "You made the tornado because you were mad?"

"Well, not quite." Rachel shrugged. "Like I said, I wanted to learn how I can control my abilities. I mean, I clearly need the practice. Power's just not useful without control."

"And what are you feeling right now?"

Rachel quirked a brow. "Like, I'm really wondering where you're going with this, Max."

"Um," Max paused. "It's just...I had this thought. When I first got my powers, I went through something really, really frightening. I told you about it—I had a vision of a storm sweeping into the Bay and destroying everything, and after that..." She paused to take a deep breath. "After that, I witnessed Chloe get shot by Nathan in the Blackwell girl's room."

Chloe paused midway through biting a chip. Rachel went very still. "Oh."

"That was the first time I ever rewound," Max went on. "I wanted to stop what was happening and—suddenly I could. I think you're right, Rachel. You need to learn how to control your powers. And I think that these powers are somehow linked to our emotions. That's why I thought to ask you about how you're really feeling."

"Huh." Rachel's brows knit together. "Okay...I guess, being honest, you could say I'm worried."

Chloe blinked. "Yeah?"

"About whether I can control this thing in me. It's just...so alien, you know?" Rachel clasped her hands before her. "To have these abilities, and not knowing where they came from, what I'm supposed to do with them, what their limits are, or if I can even get them under control. And we've got a hella lot riding on this. You see, I...may have had a vision too."

Max's eyes widened. "You did?"

Rachel nodded. "Remember when I was spacing out on the sidewalk while you were trying to talk to me? While I was looking at Arcadia Bay? Well, I saw the whole town going up in flames."

"Holy crap," muttered Chloe. "What're you saying? That the town may get hit by either a storm OR a fire?"

"I-I don't know if that was some kind of hallucination or some actual precog shit, but it spooked the hell out of me." Rachel said, rubbing the inside of her wrist with a thumb. "The whole town lighting up like a box of matches. So that time at the parking lot, I got to thinking about exactly how much is at stake here: our homes, our friends, our lives. And I may have panicked a little. I just didn't want to be, you know...

"The one who messes up?" Max asked, and thought, I can relate.

Rachel quirked her lip. "The one who holds us back. The weak link. It's a lot of pressure—I'm normally good with pressure, but this is a bit much. I guess I wanted you guys to see that I got this." She ran a hand through her hair. "Well, clearly I don't."

"Not yet, Rach," Chloe stressed. "We'll get you there, don't worry."

Rachel smiled gratefully. "So yeah. I guess that's why I did it. I was in a hurry to master my powers like you did yours. It's all I could think about these past few days, cooped in my dorm and hiding from Jefferson. Once I saw I had the chance, I just had to test them again. And...here we are."

So that's what it is, Max thought. "I think I know how that feels," she said. "I'm always afraid of messing up. In school, I'd overthink things and worry about making mistakes, so I end up freezing and barely getting anything done. Eventually, my parents put me on an IEP."

Rachel inclined her head. "Does it help?"

Max nodded. "I have an instructor, Ms. Quinn. She helps make the anxiety a little easier to manage when things get rough. So, I was thinking, if strong emotions make our powers go off, then maybe calming down can stop them."

"Heh." Chloe smirked. "Do we hold hands and sing kumbaya?"

Smiling, Max shook her head. "We have this exercise. It's a bit like self-hypnotism."

Rachel leaned forward. "Show me."

Max took a deep breath, nerves jangling, chest tightening. She'd done this often with Ms. Quinn, but she'd never led someone through it before. "Do it with me," she said, straightening up in her seat. Rachel mirrored her, pulling her shoulders back and sitting taller. Even that simple, graceful movement reminded Max of a professional model.

"Okay. Um, f-first, just focus on my voice. Slow down your breathing to a count of four." Max inhaled through her nose and exhaled out her mouth. Rachel followed suit. Even Chloe was quiet for once; she had set aside her chips and was eyeing her screen curiously.

"Good," said Max, consciously softening her voice like how her instructor would during their sessions. "Now, um, we try to engage the senses. So name four things that you can see."

Rachel blinked, then smiled and glanced about. "Okay. I see... The Girl in the Spider's Web, the blue top I wore today hanging from my closet door, aaaand two cute girls."

Max's breath caught itself in her throat. Chloe just grinned. "Right," Max hurried on. "Now—name three things you can hear."

Rachel tilted her head. "You, talking. My dad playing Stranger in Paradise on the old record player. Chloe tapping her finger on her table, waiting for something exciting to happen."

"Good. Name two things you can smell."

Rachel closed her eyes and inhaled. "Lavender soap from freshly-washed clothes. Mom's flowers from the garden outside."

"Finally, one thing you can touch."

Rachel's eyes remained shut. "My own skin beneath my fingers."

"Great." Max nodded to herself. So far so good. Now comes the crucial point. "Think of a place that you love, somewhere you feel relaxed and at peace whenever you visit."

Rachel said nothing for a long moment, then said, "I see it."

"Imagine you're there right now. You can hear all the sounds and feel the same sensations. Say to yourself, 'I'm here. I'm safe. I'm okay now.'"

Rachel took another deep breath. "I'm here." She whispered. "I'm safe. I'm okay now. I'm here. I'm safe. I'm okay—"

"DUDES!" cried Chloe. "Look at the tornado!"

Rachel's eyes popped open, and she and Max hit the livestream link almost simultaneously. The vortex of air was disappearing, dropping mounds of dust and trash all over the pavement. Max felt the air whoosh out of her lungs. Rachel had one hand on her mouth to suppress a cry.

"I can't fucking believe that actually worked!" Chloe said.

"Oh my god, Max!" Rachel exclaimed, beaming at the screen. "You're amazing! Thank you, thank you so much!"

"D-don't mention it," Max said, her chest loosening. She could hardly believe it was that simple. And if this was what it took to control Rachel's powers, their chances of stopping any storm were that much—

Something arrested Max's attention; she hit the maximize button of her screen and peered closer.

By now the whirlwind had disappeared entirely, revealing a man who had been standing directly behind it. He looked to be in his early 50s. Unlike the people milling excitedly about, he stood still as an obelisk, hands jammed in his coat pockets, eyes unseen behind his thick black-rimmed glasses. The wind tossed strands of his graying brown hair from his clean-shaven, box-shaped face. Grim lines played around the muscles of his jaw as he stared at the spot where the tornado once spun.

Something about his look and his stance gave Max the impression that he'd been standing there a long time. Once every last bit of dirt had fallen still on the ground, he walked to a nearby black Mercedes and drove away.

He looked familiar—eerily so. Where had she seen him before?

"Max?" Chloe was saying. "You okay over there?"

Max snapped back to reality. "S-sorry. It's nothing. I zoned out for a bit. What were you guys saying?"

Rachel was laughing. "That we absolutely need to get you down here, you goof! This is a good thing we got—we have to keep practicing!"

"Yeah, yeah you're right," Max replied. "I'll do my best to get my mom's permission, I promise."

"You'd better!" said Chloe. "If you want, I could call Aunt Van and beg her to let you."

"Ah, no way. Let me deal with Mom on my own, thanks."

"Yeah, forget it, Chlo," Rachel chimed in. "We want her mom to let her come, not put her under protective custody."

"Ha-ha, smartass. Well, since we're doing some show and tell..." Chloe grinned. "I've got a little bombshell of my own. You guys ready for it?"

Curiosity piqued, Max inched closer as Chloe tapped rapidly at her keyboard. "I was doing research on Jefferson, seeing if I could dig up some dirt from his past. Did you know he lived in Seattle for some time, Max?"

"Yeah, I read about that in his bio."

"Good. So I was thinking, a lowlife shitbird like that must've started his fuckery earlier in his career, right? I read up on the beginnings of his career in Seattle. If he was just starting then, he must've been sloppy at first. So I Googled him for past crimes."

"And?" Rachel prompted.

"Aaaaand I found nothing. No one's ever published anything about him getting charged for a crime. BUT THEN!" Another link appeared on the chat, seemingly to a university news portal. "I started combing through the online archives of a university he once taught at in 1996. And I hit paydirt, baby!"

Max clicked on it to reveal a 1998 article from the Seattle University Gazette, written by a Susan Darby.

"I'll summarize it for you," said Chloe as Max and Rachel started skimming through it. "A student once reported that she volunteered to help Jefferson prep for a photo shoot at his studio. He offers her a drink, then suddenly she gets real sleepy and doesn't remember passing out. She wakes up briefly to see—" she reads from the article, "'I was partially undressed, and he was bent over me, breathing heavily as he took pictures.'"

Max tasted bile on her tongue. Rachel's lip curled in disgust.

"He tells her she passed out from the heat and he was helping her recover, but she wasn't having any of it, so she goes ahead and reports it to police," Chloe went on. "Surprise, surprise—nobody believes her. She didn't have proof, and then some students said she had been stalking Jeffershit for months. And before you can say 'victim-blaming', the police are accusing her of making shit up. They file no charges, and Jefferson gets away without so much as an ink stain on his fingers."

Max scrolled down to the name of the victim. "Laura Nuñez from Seattle."

"Could she still be living there?" Rachel asked. When Chloe shrugged, she went on, "We need to find her."

"You want her story."

Rachel nodded. "It might help bring down Jefferson—if she's willing to share it. If we want to protect every girl in Blackwell, we have to expose him for what he is." She reclined back on her chair and crossed her arms. "I've been thinking that maybe I wasn't the only person he targeted in Arcadia Bay."

Chloe's eyes widened. "You don't mean—"

"Max, can you recall any other names from those red binders in the Dark Room?"

Max hated returning to that awful place, even in her own head. But she knew that Rachel was getting at something important. Focusing, she recalled the cabinet full of named binders. "I remember one marked Brittany, and Lucy, and Ashley...there was Lynn, I think, and Kelly—"

Rachel's brows shot up. "Kelly?" she asked. "As in Kelly Davis?"

"He only ever wrote first names on the sides of binders. And we only opened two."

Chloe asked, "Who's Kelly Davis?"

"She was more of Juliet's friend, but we hung out a few times," Rachel replied. "She used to stay in the dorm room across from mine. Room 217. "

"Used to?" Max asked.

"Kelly suddenly moved away about three weeks ago—with no explanation and barely a goodbye. Juliet and I worried about her. She was always this friendly, outgoing girl who loved to hang out. Even had a boyfriend in town. But those last few days she started acting weird, wouldn't talk to anyone or leave her room. Then she upped and left, just like..." Rachel's eyes widened. "Max, was there also a Megan on the binders?"

"Whoa, whoa—what?" Chloe exclaimed. "You don't mean Megan Henley?"

Max thought hard. "Yeah, yeah there was a Megan too."

"You're absolutely sure?" Rachel asked.

"M-E-G-A-N? Is she also someone you know?"

Before Rachel could say anything, Chloe bolted out her chair and stalked out of view of her camera. Max heard a distant "Fuck!" and something pounding against the wall.

"She's...an old friend of Chloe's, from before we met," Rachel added, her scowl deepening. "She was a Blackwell student too, until she left. Right before Kelly did. Said she needed to be with her parents to sort stuff out. Everyone thought it was because she got pregnant." She shook her head. "I never dreamed it would be because of this."

Max felt sick to her stomach. When she first saw those names, only those of Kate and Rachel seemed real. Now it hit her—all those girls had been victims long before, and some were people Chloe and Rachel knew!

"I'm so sorry," was all Max could think to say.

Chloe stomped back to her laptop, knocking over her chips and rattling the table. A muffled voice complained about her noise but she paid no attention. "Has anybody got a plan?" she demanded. "Tell me someone's got a plan, or I'm gonna mow him down with my truck right fucking now!"

"Don't worry, Chloe," Rachel said. "I've been working on something." She paused. "But we can't do this on our own—we'll need some help. Max?"

"Yes?"

"I need you to tell me one more thing." She leaned forward. "Who in Blackwell can we absolutely trust?"

It took all of Thursday morning for Max to finally wear her mother down. She eventually relented and listed several conditions: that Max would call her when she arrived there and when she headed back, that her grades wouldn't suffer despite her frequent trips, that she would stay out of trouble. Max promised she would and immediately knew she would end up breaking more than a few of them.

She texted Rachel and Chloe and told them the good news. Their replies came swiftly.

[4/25 10:45 AM] [CP] I'll pick you up at Portland. Just tell me where.

[4/25 10:45 AM] [RA] Sweet! See you soon, Maxie. We've got a few surprises for you.

Surprises? That got Max worried. Rachel had proven herself unpredictable; Max hoped she would hew to her word not to use her powers again until they found a safe spot for practice.

Just before 5 PM that Friday, she kissed her parents goodbye and was finally on her way south. Heeding her mother's advice, she took an Amtrak, cutting the journey to just under three and a half hours. It was a much more pleasant trip this time, knowing that someone was waiting to pick her up. She even got to nap a little, and each time she opened her eyes she would be greeted with a text from Chloe, checking up on her.

Max spotted Chloe the moment she got out of the station—it was hard to miss her friend waving frantically from the side of her truck, which was clearly beside a No Parking sign. Max hurried over and gave Chloe a quick hug before begging her to get them out there before a cop spotted them.

"Hey," Chloe said as they pulled onto the main road, "you really did Rachel a solid by helping her sort out that tornado."

"Don't mention it. It's what I came back for." She paused, then added, "I mean, I wanted to help everyone. Especially you."

That drew a smile out of Chloe. "Heh, good thing I'm not the one with powers, huh? If it were me dealing with all that emotional shit, I would've already wiped the fucking town off the map." She twisted the wheel and sent the truck hurtling down the freeway.

"So I gotta ask," she went on, switching through radio stations, "what'd you tell Aunt Van to get her to let you come?"

"Oh." Max looked down to hide her sheepish look. "That's, um, well...I kinda over-exaggerated your problems in Arcadia Bay. I told her that you really, really, REALLY needed a friend."

Chloe glanced at her and whistled softly. "Wow, Max. You guilted your Mom into letting you back here by telling her I'm a teenaged basketcase?"

"I'm really sorry, Chloe—I just couldn't think of anything else!"

Chloe laughed. "Chill, it's all good. You're such a terrible liar, I'm surprised it worked at all. But then," she gave a rueful smile, "you're probably not too far off the mark to begin with."

Max wondered if Chloe really did need to talk about something, but Chloe switched subjects as easily as she switched gears. "Anyway, glad your dance card's free on Friday nights."

"Yeah, me too. I'm a lazy slug come the weekends. Normally I'd just go home and veg out while reading a book and listening to music."

"What, you don't have a boyfriend waiting for you back up in Seattle? Someone to sneak in through your window at night?"

"Ew, Chloe. No, nothing like that. I'm not dating anyone."

Chloe's smile broadened. "Figures. Uh, what I mean is," she scratched her ear, "you got a good eye and a sense of taste. Those Seattle losers are way below your league, you know."

It felt strange to go down a variation of this familiar path, so Max just said, "You think so?"

"I know so. And by the mere fact that you're not asking, you probably already know that it was Rachel who rescued me from drowning in the Arcadia Bay dating pool."

"Mm-hm. You kinda told me, back then."

"Heh, back in the future." Chloe cleared her throat. "But hey, you'd tell me, right? Like if you ever started dating, you'd let me know. So I can give 'em a thumbs up or down."

Their last kiss together by the lighthouse flashed through Max's brain. She squeezed her eyes shut to clear it. Not helping right now .

"T-there isn't anyone, Chloe," she said, gazing out at the procession of telephone poles rushing past. "And if ever there were, yeah, you'd be the first to know."

They talked about trivial things for the rest of the trip until they finally arrived at Arcadia Bay. Night had fallen, and the distant lighthouse cut through the darkness with long blades of light.

Max remembered something as they turned the corner to the richer part of town. "What's this surprise that Rachel was talking about?"

"Oh, yeah, that." Chloe shrugged. "You'll know in a sec. Just let me get us there." She turned the truck a couple of streets and stopped in front of a large house with a pewter-shingled roof, white walls, and wide lawn bordered by low hedges.

More confused than ever, Max moved to unlock her seatbelt but Chloe caught her shoulder. "I've got your first surprise," she announced, positively beaming. "Check the glove compartment."

Bemused, Max did as Chloe asked. Her breath slid back down her throat when she looked inside.

"Ta-dah, it's your birthday gift!" Chloe said. "I hadn't gotten you anything these last five years, so I'm also doing some catch-up. Go on, take it."

Some things never change, thought Max as she picked up the Polaroid camera and turned it in her hands. A green ribbon was laced around it in a neat bow, tying a packet of film to the bottom.

Chloe said, "It's my dad's. You remember, right?"

"Yeah," Max said, staring down at the lens. "Yeah, I remember."

"He must've taken thousands of pictures of us when we were kids. I'm thinking he'd like it if I gave it to a real photographer. Every artist needs her tools. Oh, and the film's from Rachel."

"Max?" Chloe's tone became tentative as Max kept silent. "You...don't you like it?"

How could Max explain the lingering dread inside of her? How the sound of another camera click might drag her back into the memory of bound hands, the feeling of helplessness, the purr of a low, hungry voice demanding her submission?

She couldn't.

"No, no, I do! It's lovely, Chloe, thank you. I'll be sure to use it."

Chloe beamed. "Great. Rachel's probably going to pester you about taking her picture later on—pictures, plural—so be ready for that." She threw open the driver's side door. "Now let's go check out your other surprises."

Side by side, they strolled up the gravel path lit by motion sensor lamps until they reached the front door. The place was even bigger than Rachel's, and it looked like every light inside was on. "Who lives here?" she wondered.

Chloe hit the buzzer beside the white wooden entrance, and Max got her answer the moment the door opened.

"Heyyy, there she is!" cried Hayden Jones, gesturing at Chloe with his beer bottle and nearly splashing them in the process. "Lookin' good, Chloeee. How've you been?"

"Eh, can't complain," replied Chloe, accepting his high five. "Even if I did, no one would listen. You high already, Hayden?"

"You know it! But don't worry, I ain't so lit I'm not up for whatever Rach's got planned." He laughed before turning to Max. "You must be Chloe and Rachel's friend from Seattle. Sorry, I already forgot your name."

"Max Caulfield," Max replied, trying to hide her bewilderment. They were at Hayden's place? Why? Given the beer bottle in Hayden's hand and the rock music coming from deeper within the house, it was pretty clear they were throwing a party.

"Nice," Hayden said. "Well, what're you waiting for? Come on in! Mi casa et tu Brute, or something like that." He made way for them to enter. Chloe took Max's arm and led her inside.

"Where's Rachel at?" Chloe asked as Hayden ushered them down the hallway.

"They're in the den," he replied, giggling. "You know Rach's serious when she hasn't touched the Kush all night. Mind giving me a head's up on what's about to go down?"

Max wondered if Hayden meant to sound like he was talking in innuendos, or if that was just a function of the weed.

Chloe just shrugged. "It's hella complicated. I'll let her explain—she does it better than me anyway."

"Alrighty then." He led them down the hall and turned right into an expansive living room decorated by vertical Asian paintings. An enormous plasma TV was playing a music video on the opposite wall. A bucket full of beer and soda cans sat on the low glass coffee table, along with an enormous bowl of nachos and a Macbook she recognized as Rachel's. An Xbox lay ignored on a nearby bench.

Rachel was ensconced on an L-shaped couch, deep in conversation with two other people. Her face lit up when she spotted them, her hand shooting up in greeting. "Max! Chloe! Finally!"

The other two guests turned their heads to look, and Max couldn't suppress a gasp.

The brunette girl lounging beside Rachel eyed her curiously, taking in details from her face, clothes, and mannerisms. This didn't surprise Max one bit; if there was anyone in Blackwell nosier than her, it would be self-proclaimed X-treme reporter, Juliet Watson.

But it was the other girl, sitting primly on the other side of the couch without so much as a beer bottle in front of her, who really caught Max off guard. Kate Marsh gazed back at her with a tentative smile as she held up the paper cup she'd likely picked up just to be polite.

Max caught Rachel's gaze, but the blonde simply winked and mouthed, "Be cool."

"Gangs all here then?" Hayden asked, dropping onto the couch next to Juliet.

"Nope," Rachel replied, "I'm still waiting on a couple more faces to show." She raised a bottle for Chloe to grab as the taller girl slid into the space beside her. "Hey, join us, Max. Everyone, this is Max Caulfield."

Max decided that now was not the time for her crippling social anxiety to show. "Hi," she said, forcing her legs to carry her to the couch and nearly tripping on a cushion along the way. She sat down beside Kate and reached for a cola from the bucket like she was groping for a shield. "Hey," she mustered, "how's it going?"

"Hi," Kate replied in her familiar timid way. "Nice to meet you, Max. Rachel was just telling us about you."

Wish she told me about you, Max thought, hiding behind a smile. Get a hold of yourself. Kate was your closest friend next to Chloe—of course you'll get along with her even in this timeline.

"Yup," Rachel was saying. "Max here's come all the way from Seattle just to meet you guys. She's planning on joining Blackwell's extended senior program next year to pursue photography."

"Rachel tells me you used to live here," Juliet piped up. "Must be cool living in the big city now, huh?"

"Y-you could say that," Max replied, feeling more certain by the minute that she was the lamest person in the room. "As a photographer, there's a lot of material for me to work with."

"So what brings you back to your sleepy old hometown?"

Max tried to formulate a workable answer but came up blank; the thought of even saying Jefferson's name made her want to vomit. She looked beseechingly at Rachel and Chloe, but they were quietly conversing and fiddling with the laptop on the table. Thankfully, at that moment, the doorbell rang.

"The more the merrier," said Hayden, jumping up and heading for the door.

"You've been busy, Rach," Juliet said.

"It's just two other people I know from school," Rachel said, looking at Max. "They're cool, I promise."

Max stared back at her. Then it hit her—two days ago, Rachel has asked her who in Blackwell they could absolutely trust. Max gave her two names. Since Kate's here, that left only—

"'Sup, everyone!" the brown-haired boy wearing a Godzilla t-shirt said as he entered the room, taking in the faces around him. Despite his attempted swagger, Warren Graham seemed a bit lost, like he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't invited here by mistake.

But Rachel was already at his side with an offering of beer and a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Warren! Glad you could make it! We're just chillin'. Come sit, I'll introduce you to everyone. You remember Chloe, right?"

"Yo," Chloe muttered, not even lifting her eyes from the laptop screen.

Rachel steered him past to the other side of the couch. "And you know Juliet and Kate from our English class. And this is Max from Seattle."

Warren came to a stop beside Max, and he gave a toothy, nervous smile. "Hi, Max from Seattle. What's goin' on?"

"Uh, hey Warren," Max extended her hand to shake his. "I'm Max. Well, I guess you know that already."

"Yeah, I kinda gathered." He guffawed in a loud, awkward way that made Chloe shoot him an annoyed look. He sat beside Max as he cracked open his beer. "Kate! Nice to see you. Is your bunny doing good?"

"Hi, Warren. Yup, she's a lot bigger now, thanks. And you were right—broccoli leaves are better for her tummy than flowers."

"Cool, cool." He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, listen. Can I ask you guys something?"

"Uh-huh?"

He scooted towards them. "I'm really not much of a party animal, you know?" he whispered, "so I found it a little weird that Rachel invited me out of the blue to this one. Frankly, I don't even know her or anybody here that well. What about you guys?"

Max couldn't disagree. Everyone sitting on the adjoining couch seemed the very essence of cool: Rachel in her dark blue top that hung down one shoulder, chatting animatedly with Juliet who had her stockinged legs crossed and a beer can balanced on her knee, and Hayden looking right at home in his loose turtleneck, grinning as he leaned with his arms on the backrest to listen to them. Even Chloe, wearing an expression that announced she would rather be anywhere but here, fit in better with them than with Max's side of the room.

"Rachel said she wanted to tell us something important," Kate replied. "She went out of the way to ask me to come, so I did. That's all I know. Did she tell you anything, Max?"

"Uh, well—" Max paused, fidgeting. "Sort of and, um, I really don't wanna spoil it for her. But it's awfully important for you to hear it." I just wish she'd get on with it.

Before they could ask her to elaborate, the doorbell rang once more. This time it was Rachel who stood up. "You haven't had five seconds to relax, Hayden," she said, laughing. "Let me get it." And she vanished into the hallway.

"She's really playing this close to the chest," Juliet observed. "She didn't even ask me to bring Dana. That's pretty weird."

Hayden shrugged as he sat beside her. "Hey, I'm just glad I'm getting to hang out with people again, you know? You realize it's been nearly half a year since I got to host a party at my house?"

"Is this because your Dad caught you with a packet of weed in your car?"

"Worst part was it wasn't even mine. Justin fucking dropped it when I gave him a ride home. And speaking of weed..." He reached down beside the couch and pulled up a bong and a lighter. "Am I really the only one who's going to be sampling these stupid fine herbs I prepped for tonight? Anybody?" He gazed around the room as he lit the bong.

"Oh, I really shouldn't," said Kate, holding both palms up.

"Weed makes me too chatty," said Warren. "You wouldn't like me when I'm chatty."

"I'd like to hear what Rachel has to say before I start thinking everything's funny," said Juliet.

"I don't really smoke," said Max.

"Oh god, I'm surrounded by dweebs!" Chloe sneered as she pushed the laptop away. "Give it here, Hayden. Clearly we're sitting on the fun couch tonight."

"Thatta girl! Sink it!" Hayden laughed as he passed the bong to her. Chloe took her hit as easily as she would knock back a beer.

Voices from the hallway: "...really can't stay long. Club needs me to do firewall updates in the morning. You know how it is."

"Oh, don't worry," Rachel said, smiling as she walked backwards into the den. "I won't ask you to stay if you can't, though I'd be really happy if you would. I'm sure we can find one or two things to keep you interested."

"Somehow I doubt—"

The last guest appeared in the hallway, and Max was left more confused than ever. Black hair sporting a red streak, sleek, dark eyes behind thick glasses, a purple tablet tucked securely under one arm—it was hard to mistake Brooke Scott for anyone else. She gave the motley gathering a bemused stare, but her eyes opened wider when they fell on Warren.

"Now that everyone's here," Rachel said, wearing the satisfied smile of someone who'd accomplished something quite difficult, "we can get this meeting started."