As she let herself be pulled onto the dance floor, Chloe fought to keep an eye out for any sign of Jefferson, but it was a losing battle—inevitably, her gaze was drawn back to Rachel. She wasn't the only one; a wave of heads turned the instant Rachel swept through the crowd, the dancers parting like they were afraid to touch her.
Letting go of Chloe, Rachel raised her arms overhead and spun her hips a tight circle, her crimson dress flowing in a whirlpool of fire. Chloe's lips fell open: she couldn't believe anyone could be this lovely, nor could she believe anyone this lovely would be hers. Then Rachel gave her that look, head tilted down, glistening lips curving into a sultry line, and Chloe was done for.
She grabbed the girl's hips to pull her closer; Rachel threw back her long blond tresses and laughed—a sound that quivered in Chloe's heart. She wanted to drink from those red lips, wanted to lead her out of the gym and into the shadowy trees where no one could see, and really give these Blackwell idiots something to talk about.
"Didn't I promise we'd have fun tonight?" Rachel shouted over the din as they spun and rocked to the heat of the music.
"Yeah, you did," Chloe shouted back. "And we are, but I got my doubts about Max."
A single glance over her shoulder confirmed it: Max was doing her darndest to blend in, but the halting steps and timid little circles she made with her arms made her look like she was trying to avoid touching anyone. And while Warren seemed to be having fun, the way he was hopping about and jabbing his fingers in the air so much made Chloe afraid he'd poke someone's eye out. She didn't know whether to be annoyed for Max or be glad that there won't be another date.
Still, Chloe was content. Max was safe. Rachel was in her arms. Presscock was sulking in his kids' play corner. Jefferson wasn't around and perhaps wasn't even going to show. Tonight might go easy on them after all.
Then, as they danced towards the edge of the crowd, Chloe spotted a blonde girl nearly as tall as she was making a beeline toward them. Welp, she thought, so much for easy.
"Don't look now," she muttered to Rachel. "Icky Vicky incoming."
Rachel let her head fall to Chloe's shoulder and heaved a long-suffering sigh. "'Bout that time I guess." She turned to head the intruder off with a smile. "Victoria! You look amazing in that dress!"
She wasn't lying; even Chloe had to admit that Victoria Chase in a svelte black bodycon sporting golden bangles on her arms was easy on the eyes. Too bad she had to go and ruin it by opening her mouth.
Victoria came right up and gave Rachel smacking air kisses that made Chloe's skin crawl. "And you look absolutely fierce in yours. Gonna be perfect for the awards tonight!" She turned to Chloe. "Oh, look who it is—Kari Price!"
Chloe peeled her lips back from her teeth—"Great to see you too, Veronica"—and savored the barely-there curl at the edge of Victoria's mouth.
Rachel favored Chloe a glance that was at once admiring and placating before turning back to Victoria. "So, are we starting?"
"Oh yes, everything's set. Adam's already backstage so I'm here to get you. But there's a teensy little problem I could really use your help with." Victoria's voice pitched a little higher. Must be the voice she used to wheedle money from her parents, Chloe thought.
Rachel nodded. "Sure, what's up?"
"Well," Victoria shot a glance at the band. "I'm supervising backstage, as you probably guessed. The band's lead singer came up to me a few minutes ago and said she had to deal with some kind of medical problem. I already called Principal Wells's attention to her unprofessional behavior, but the reality of it is we don't have a singer for the slow dance portion of the night, and..."
"Okay, whoa, hold up!" Chloe raised her palms. "Are you seriously asking Rachel to fill in for the lead singer?"
"In a word, yes." Victoria gave Rachel a beseeching look."It's just for one song after the awards are done. Think about it—the returning Prom Queen, serenading the new couple as they dance...it would be so perfect! "
"I...I dunno, Victoria," Rachel began.
"This is the part where we ask why this is our problem, right?" Chloe muttered to her, but it was clear from her expression that Rachel was thinking it over.
"We really could use your lovely voice, Rachel," Victoria pressed on. "Principal Wells specifically asked for you." She paused, then shrugged. "But then again, if you're not up for it, I could tell him to try someone else. Maybe Jamie Russo or Susan Lyons, they can sing pretty well too..."
"Do you have their setlist?" Rachel abruptly asked, and Chloe snorted in exasperation. She should've known Rachel wouldn't pass up the chance to be in the spotlight again—the Blackwell stage was her territory, after all.
Victoria perked up at the request. "But of course!" She pulled out a note and handed it to Rachel, who scanned it and tapped a finger on a song.
"Great choice! Right this way. I'll brief you and the band as soon as their song is done." Victoria turned and led them both toward a side door beside the stage.
"You really have to do this, Rach?" Chloe grumbled. "We'll be delaying our plans."
"One song then we're gone," Rachel whispered back. "It'll give the impression we were here longer than we actually were. We'll skip out right after I finish."
"Principal Wells will join you and Adam backstage to announce the winners," Victoria was saying. " This is going to be absolutely fabulous—I can see it already!"
Chloe wasn't so sure, but she followed them to a side door, which Victoria opened to a dimly-lit hall that connected to the dressing room. Rachel stepped through, and as Chloe was about to follow her in, Victoria blocked the way. "Um, where do you think you're going?"
"Following my date, duh," Chloe retorted. "What, you wanna see my passport?"
Victoria tsked. "Sorry. VIPs and staff only. You'll have to wait out here."
"I so give a fuck about that. Where she goes, I go."
"You want to take it up with Principal Wells, be my guest. Here he comes now."
Sure enough, the stolid form of Principal Wells trundled through the hall towards them. He scowled when he caught sight of Chloe hanging around the entryway. She wondered how many shots of bourbon it took to straighten the creases on his broad forehead.
Rachel was quick to compromise. "It's alright, Chloe. Just keep an eye on Max." She leaned across the threshold to plant a kiss on Chloe's cheek. "Be good. It's only a few more minutes."
"Hn, fine." Chloe hated losing sight of Rachel, but at least she'd be around people she knew, and Chloe could watch her from the audience.
"Ah, Rachel," said Wells, closing the distance between them. "Don't you look positively radiant tonight. I was hoping you could help us with our problem."
"Thank you, sir," laughed Rachel, successfully ignoring the scent of liquor on him. "And yes, I'd be happy to." She plied him with banter as they disappeared into one of the adjoining rooms. Chloe then turned to catch Victoria's smirking expression, and instantly felt like slapping her.
"It's really very interesting how tightly Rachel's got you coiled around her finger," Victoria said, tapping finger to chin. "It'd be so funny if it weren't so sad."
"About as sad as the fact that you're not half as gorgeous, talented, or admired as she is?" It was satisfying to see the grin melt off of Victoria's face.
"I could say the same of you, Kari. I guess when Rachel slums, she goes straight for the bottom of the pile."
"Rachel does what she wants and gets what she wants. Which is why she gets to be the returning Prom Queen and you're stuck playing stage monkey."
"Least I'm no small-town skank!"
"Least I'm no big-mouthed bitch!"
"Ugh!" Victoria threw up her hands. "Why do I even bother? Go get wasted with what passes for your friends. I can't wait till Rachel moves on to someone she didn't find in a dumpster dive." She turned and followed the principal to the adjoining room.
"Bye Veronica!" Chloe tried to sound cheerful, but sending a little more venom than she meant to. For some reason, that last blow landed a little too squarely.
Weaving past a gaggle of students, Chloe made her way back to where she'd left Max. She and Warren had apparently taken a break, standing on the sidelines to talk and hydrate. Max, looking relieved to not be dancing, held her cup of punch in both hands like it was a lifeline.
It irked Chloe that Warren still got to hang around Max while she had to be away from Rachel. "Yo, Einstein," she called as she approached.
Warren faced her, cheeks flushed and grinning like an idiot. "What's up, Chloe?"
"Rachel's going up on stage in a few seconds. If we're going to make a quick getaway after she's done, we're gonna need you to untangle your car from the parking lot and wait by the front of the school."
He slapped his forehead. "Oh shit, you're right. I hope no one double-parked behind me. I better go get ready."
"Yeah, you do that."
"See you in a bit, Max," he said, turning to his date. "I wanna know more about Tala when I get back." He then hurried off, leaving them alone together.
Chloe turned to Max. "Hey."
"Hay is for horses," Max replied with the kind of glee that earned her an eye-roll from Chloe.
"Now I know you're bored out of your mind."
"I'm alright, Chloe. Warren's keeping me company."
"Yeah. You seem to be having a lot of fun with 'Warr'. Who's Tala?"
"Oh, she's my gnome mage from World of Warcraft. Warren plays an elf ranger, and we were talking about doing raids—"
"Yeah, forget I asked." Chloe stuffed her hand in her pocket and stared down at her dad's worn black loafers. "So I leave you alone for five minutes with Beaker and now you're gaming pals?"
"You know, I was friends with Warren from my timeline too. He and Kate Marsh were the few who actively tried to befriend the new girl."
"Yeah, well," Chloe gave a shrug. "Points for that I guess." So he's not a bad guy. Hell, Max is allowed to have friends apart from me and Rachel, right? Just...why does it have to be some dude who's clearly into her? Does Max even see it?
"Where's Rachel?" Max abruptly asked.
"See for yourself," Chloe said, jerking her head towards the stage.
The last song had come to an end. Principal Wells stepped into the spotlight, his deep voice echoing throughout the gym. "Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please. In a moment, we'll be entering the most awaited portion of the night—crowning the new Prom King and Queen!"
A rumble of excitement went through the crowd as everyone pressed closer to the stage.
"And to help me celebrate this occasion, please give a warm welcome to last year's Royal Pair, Adam Morris and Rachel Amber!"
Chloe's chest loosened as Rachel came into view. She never even saw the guy who walked out on stage with her; he was a nameless faceless nobody. The fair-haired girl was the one who glowed in the spotlight, and by the whistles and shouts that came her way, the only one people were looking at. Rachel's in her heaven; all's right with the world.
"She looks amazing onstage," Max gushed beside her. "Just like a movie star."
"Yeah," Chloe muttered. "She loves the limelight, I'm sure you can tell. Which was why when Victoria asked her to fill in for the band's singer, Rachel barely hesitated."
Max's lips fell open. "Are you serious?"
"Yup. Sometimes I wish I could reel her in a bit—"
"You mean I'll actually get to see her perform? Oh my God!"
Chloe fell quiet as she glanced at Max. "I wish I were half as bold as she is," Max sighed, eyes glued to the stage. "Imagine the things I could do."
Doesn't she realize, came Chloe's thought, that if she hadn't done what she did, Rachel wouldn't be up on that stage right now? That we wouldn't be here, enjoying tonight, together?
"Don't you say that," Chloe replied. "You're a lot more like Rachel than you know, Maximus."
Max eyed her quizzically. "What do you mean?"
Smirking, Chloe threw her a sidelong glance. "Don't play innocent with me. I saw you hide Rachel's cigs from Ms. Grant. "
Max's cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. "Uh, yeah. Kinda acted on instinct back there."
"You being a total badass is what it was! On top of getting your parents to let you come down here every week—you're not the wishy-washy kid I knew back then."
"I—I didn't want her to get in trouble." Max looked over to the stage, where Rachel was opening an envelope to announce the new Queen. "Considering we may be getting into a lot of trouble later on."
"Oof." That's right—they were still heading into dangerous waters later. "Yeah, okay, look, if you wanna back out—"
Max wheeled on her. "Not on your life! I said I'd go, Chloe, and I meant it."
Chloe laughed, nudging her shoulder against Max's. "See? Like I told you—you and Rachel aren't so different. You've changed a lot, haven't you."
"I didn't mean to." Max's lips eased into a smile as the tension between them melted away. "Sorry."
"Don't be," Chloe replied, beaming. She stole the cup from Max's hands, relishing the exact moment that their fingertips touched before taking a sip. "I like this Max. I like her a lot."
Max's smiled widened. It sent every inch of Chloe's warming and tingling, as if the punch she'd drunk had been spiked. Something about that little grin made Chloe feel bold. We can make this work, she thought to herself. You, me, and Rachel, hitting the road together. Just gotta learn to tame my pulse a bit whenever I'm around you.
She'd completely missed the naming of the new Prom Queen and King— who gives a fuck, anyway? But now the music was starting again, this time playing a ballad, and people were pairing up for the slow dance. It was giving her ideas.
She downed the last of the cup's contents and swiped her hand over her mouth. "Say Max," she began. "What do you think about...uh..."
"Hmm?" Max was still looking at her, that sweet smile on her face.
"A-about a...ah..." Chloe inadvertently crushed the cup in her hand. She drew in a shuddering breath and just spat it out. "I mean, you wanna show me some of those Dorky Dancing moves of yours?"
Max stared at her, cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. "Do you think Warren would mind?"
"Yeah, well, he might. But he isn't here right now." Chloe released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Maybe not, huh."
But Max cast her eyes down, the smile on her lips trembling at the edges. "It's...it's not a no, Chloe."
Chloe's heart turned over. She opened her mouth to speak, to seal the deal, then thought better of it and just held out her hand. Max too stayed silent as she put her small hand in Chloe's. They stepped closer together, close enough for Chloe to smell the lavender perfume on Max's neck. Her other hand curled around Max's waist—
But Max paused, frowning at something over Chloe's shoulder.
"Chloe," she said, "where's Nathan?"
"What?" Chloe blinked as if waking from a dream. She turned and peered at the Vortex-occupied corner of the gym. The girl Nathan was with still sat there, tapping away at her phone. But there was no sign of Dickscott.
Jesus friggin' Christ—he's gone.
The floodlights filled Rachel's eyes as she waited for Principal Wells to finish speaking. Beside her, Adam adjusted his tie and gazed down at his shoes. He'd never been comfortable in the spotlight like her. Rachel kept her poise, letting her sight adapt to the brightness as she smiled down at the audience before her. A dozen pairs of starry eyes stared back; in each one, she saw the same hunger for a part of her glory.
But her own eyes were pulled elsewhere. She picked out Max and Chloe from the crowd at the edge of the dance floor. It wasn't the bright yellow of Max's dress or the cobalt blue of Chloe's hair that made them stand out. At the moment, they were the only two faces in the room who weren't looking at Rachel. Max and Chloe faced each other, smiling, laughing, oblivious to the rest of the world. And not for the first time, Rachel felt a touch of fear deep inside.
She blinked. Principal Wells had finished speaking and was staring at her, nodding to the envelope in her hand. It wasn't like her to lose focus onstage. She forced herself to step toward the mic and say the lines she'd prepared just moments ago.
"Hey, Blackwell!"
Whistles, shouts, and catcalls filled her ears. For an instant, that tidal wave of sound muted her doubts and buoyed a smile to her face. It had been a while since she was last on a stage.
She took a moment to soak it in before saying, "Thank you for being here tonight, to our last Blackwell Senior Prom." She went on to thank the people who organized the whole thing, successfully keeping the venom out of her voice when she mentioned the Prescotts. "Blackwell is all about forming connections, relationships. Tonight most especially—"
She paused, smile faltering as her eyes fell on Max and Chloe again. They had drifted closer together, almost touching, sharing a plastic cup between them as they laughed over what might be another childhood memory. Standing above them, Rachel felt removed, disconnected. Like the footlights had formed a bright gulf that she couldn't cross.
Quelling her apprehension, she forced herself to keep speaking.
"Tonight we have our fondest memories, not because it's one of those lasts that we'll never have again, but because we're here with our friends, with loved ones, with people that matter. 'We don't remember days, we remember moments,' said Cesare Pavese. So tonight, let it be all about making these memories.
"It's been a blast, you guys! So here we go—tonight's Prom Queen and King."
She read from her envelope, Adam read from his. Gracie Kim stepped forward, her face glowing like she'd been beatified by the Pope, and was followed swiftly by Jason Mangold, who puffed his chest out and grinned like he knew this would happen. And that was that. After the gushing and the congratulations were done, the new Royal Pair stepped to the center of the floor, clasped hands, ready to lead the slow dance.
Adam and Principal Wells nodded to her, smiling, then left the stage for her to do the song number. It was her time.
Abruptly, Rachel leaned over to the lead guitarist and said, "About the song, could we do a different one from the setlist instead?" He smiled and nodded, eager to please. She gave him the title and he began to play a soothing accompaniment on his guitar. The lights dimmed, leaving her in the spotlight.
I'm here, she told herself. I'm safe. I'm okay now. Rachel drew in a deep breath and the words came readily to her.
Maybe I could be a picture frame round the faces you like
Or a kettle by the fire
In the morning when you need something to be warm in your hands
I could be your old worn gloves
All around her, as far as the light could let her see, dancers paired up, bodies melded into one, heads nestled closer together as they swayed to her song. Yet Max and Chloe still stood at the fringe of the crowd, a pair of dark shapes close to touching, oblivious to Rachel's music and gaze. The dancers soon hid them from her sight, which made things even worse.
If I could be your biggest mistake
The one that you hate
Would it mean I'd get a minute of your time
Cause the truth is I'd be anything for you
If you'd be mine
Look my way, please, she willed them. Look at me.
And before she could catch sight of them again, all the lights went out.
Max froze, disoriented by the sudden darkness. Chloe's afterimage floated before her eyes a moment more before fading to black. At first there was dead silence—then a din assaulted her ears as the room began to howl and boo.
But not Chloe. She shrieked, "RACHEL!" and Max heard frenzied footfalls and scuffling as Chloe shoved her way through the crowd.
"Wait!" Max reached out but caught only air and the fading scent of cologne; Chloe was gone.
A harsh drumbeat started up in her chest. Max took a few halting steps before stopping; she had no idea if she was even heading the right way. Chloe would go for the stage, but where was it? The cursing, moaning crowd jostled her as they moved past. Nearby, glass crashed to the floor. A girl screamed.
Beams of light began to appear as the party-goers began turning their cellphone flashlights on. Max felt like slapping her forehead— duh, of course. Turning on her own light, she saw she was at the center of the dance floor. No sign of Chloe.
Max's palms had turned cold and sweat moistened her brow. The thrumming had crawled from her chest up to her ears. What was happening? And what was she supposed to do?
Their contingency plan came to mind—if separated, meet up at the fountain in front of the school. But could she really leave Chloe and Rachel in here with God knows what's going on? No, of course not.
Max shut her eyes and forced herself to breathe. Relax—it's just a blackout. Nothing more. Still, the timing was strange. She'd never known the school to have a total electrical failure before.
Focus, Max—what's the quickest way to find them? Call them of course, you dummy. But you'll never be able to talk with all this noise.
Max turned and brisk-walked towards the fire exit their group had occupied only half an hour before. Even the Exit sign was dead—why hadn't the emergency generators kicked in? She pressed against the handle, shoved the door open, and let herself out into the cool night air. She breathed it in; now that it was quieter, her heart rate began to let her mind catch up.
She tapped Chloe's name on her call list and raised the cell to her ear. It rang once, twice—no answer. Max waited, the grip around her phone tightening with each drifting second. Nothing...nothing...
A moving red light to her left caught her eye. She turned and spotted a sleek black car gliding silently over the grass, disappearing behind the gymnasium.
Max's skin prickled in the suddenly freezing air; her tongue tasted like metal. That car...that car was Jefferson's. She was almost sure of it.
Jefferson is here—probably been here all along. He's tricked us. He's coming for Rachel.
Tucking her phone into her purse, Max sprinted toward the back of the gymnasium, then skidded to a halt by the corner. What did she think she could do? She was alone with no powers, no weapons. Wait. She did have one weapon, the one thing she knew how to use better than anything else.
Hands shaking, pulse throbbing madly in her ears, she reached into her purse and pulled out the Polaroid camera Chloe had given her. This wasn't how she envisioned going back to photography, but she was going to have to skip the freshman orientation. If it really was Jefferson out there, if she could catch him committing a crime, she could end him before Juliet's article even came out.
You can do this, she told herself, looping the camera strap around her hand. Be quiet, stay out of sight, take the shot. Do it for Rachel. For Chloe.
Max let her breathing slow, then peered around the corner. The back of the gym was dark as anywhere else around the school, given there were no lit lamp posts. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the starlight. She soon spotted the car—it had parked some twenty feet away, next to a few maple trees. The engine was off and so were the brake lights. It was too dark to see the license plate.
Nothing for it, then. Drawing a deep breath, Max sidled around the corner, her purse in her left hand and the camera tightly clutched in her right. Ducking low, she put her weight on the balls of her feet as she approached the car.
The trees were her best bet—the shadows would offer her a bit of safety while she tried to figure out where the hell Jefferson was. She inched onward, following her thin shadow as it reached for the maples. She never thought twenty feet could seem so far, nor the scuffling of her shoes on the grass so loud.
Nevertheless, she made it to the closest tree without incident. Flattening herself against the trunk, she peered around the edge to view the car. The license plate confirmed what she already knew—it was Jefferson's alright. More, it was parked close to another emergency exit, located at the back of the building. Did Jefferson plan on entering from there? Or was he waiting for someone to emerge—maybe carrying an unconscious victim?
And where was Jefferson? Was he sitting inside the car, waiting? Or had he already entered the building?
Max needed to know—she needed a better vantage point. Steeling herself, she moved from behind the trunk, veering towards a tree closer to the car. If she could keep an eye on both the emergency door and the car while remaining unseen, then she could—
"Nice night," said a voice in the dark.
Max jumped. The camera fell from her nerveless fingers, would have clattered to the ground if it hadn't been for the strap around her wrist. But her purse fell, contents spilling onto the grass. She turned to see Jefferson step out from behind the opposite tree not five feet away. He was smiling at her, his teeth white in the gloom.
"Ms. Caulfield. We meet again."