Chapter 2
Chloe swallowed bile all the way to Two Whales, rolling down the window at one point anticipating having to pull over and puke in the next few minutes. Benzos and rum. Never again. At least she knew now she’d bought real Xanax off Frank.
She wasn’t normally such a lightweight but the combination plus the sheer amount of alcohol on an empty stomach left her wishing for death when she woke up around 4:30 in the afternoon. She’d groaned, both from the headache and from seeing Max had blown up her phone and that she was late -- until she read the messages and listened to her voicemail.
She took a moment to rest her head on the steering wheel in the lot. She was already fucking late, what was one more minute, if Max was still there at all? Max could stand to wait. Or at least, Chloe told herself as she swallowed a mixture of acid and guilt, sour like lemon down her throat.
She pulled her beanie down over her forehead, hoping it hid her eyes and that Mom wasn’t out front right this second, and found Max in the corner booth they’d spent so much time in as kids, sipping hot chocolate and trying out disgusting combos like strawberry jelly on eggs.
Max had a single mug of tea in front of her, and was leaning on her elbow, staring Chloe down as she approached. Christ, her head hurt, if she wasn’t late and didn’t need to drive she would’ve gone straight for some hair of the dog.
“What’s up?” she mumbled as she sat down heavily in the booth, arms thrown over the back of it in an attempt to look casual. And completely sober.
Max took a deep breath without looking away from her, and leaned in across the table. “Someone tried to kill me,” she whispered, eyes dark. “You can’t check your phone?”
“Whoa, what? Chew my ass out later, what happened to you?”
“Something, um, someone…” Max closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and she looked at the table. “It was like I was a freaky puppet. Some voice in my head told me to move and I couldn’t stop and...they tried to make me jump off the roof.” Her voice dipped, vulnerable and liquid, and Chloe slapped both hands on the table. “Kate found me and got me off the ledge, but now she thinks I’m a suicide watch.”
“Max, I… holy shit, I passed out, I --”
“Don’t.” Max covered her eyes with one hand, rubbing her temples. “Not right now, Chloe.”
She wanted to fire back -- Really? Not now? So I’m not allowed to be pissed off at you and I can’t defend myself? -- but then Max put her hand down and she saw the way it trembled, the puffiness under her eyes, and she bit her tongue for the moment. “I fucked up.”
“Yeah, you did.”
Neither seemed to know what to say next; both looked in different directions and Chloe tweaked Rachel’s old bracelet again and again. The snap against her skin was a reminder that at least she was in control of something. “Are you okay?”
Max paused, before shaking her head. “If we’re gonna be a team, we can’t pull disappearing acts on each other, okay?”
Chloe tensed; whenever someone said “we” they always meant “you,” she’d seen it with teachers and counselors and Mom before: ‘You’re the problem we’re going to solve.’ “Yeah… ‘course.” She leaned across the table and grabbed Max’s hands, felt them relax in her grip. “Max, I said I’d look out for you, right? You wanna crash with me tonight?”
Max seemed to hesitate, but then nodded, appeased. “You owe me full-time bodyguard duty.”
“I’ll carry you out bridal-style if you want.”
They laughed, but it was strained. They picked at a short stack, Chloe trying not to gag at the rich buttery scent, and Max talked to Mom when she stopped by so Chloe had a shot at hiding her likely-bloodshot eyes.
“Look who it is,” Mom said with her easygoing, warm tone, and put an arm around Max’s back and gave her a hug that made Max gasp. Mom could make anyone feel like an old friend, but Chloe noticed her affection for Max. “Welcome back, stranger.”
“Hi, Joyce. I missed you.” Max’s smile was strained. “And your pancakes.”
Mom looked at Chloe, and Chloe didn’t look down again in time to hide her face. Mom frowned. “Now that you’re back, maybe you’ll be a good influence on Chloe. She needs one.”
“Not as much as I need her,” Max said quietly, looking at her with pained eyes.
Mom laughed. “I don’t think you two are happy unless you’re giving me a headache. Back to work for me, good to see you, Max.”
Things were normal for a moment, even though Max still looked pale and Chloe felt like laying her head on the table for some relief. Then, idly playing with her bracelet, she snapped the elastic band and little shells scattered like broken china.
“Goddamn it!” she yelled before she could check herself, only seeing that the last reminder she had of Rachel was broken and she couldn’t even preserve this, and she didn’t even realize she’d gotten to her feet until Mom put a hand on her shoulder.
“Problem, ladies?” she said in the same take-no-shit tone she used for truckers and obnoxious teen boys who were taller than her.
“Sorry, Joyce,” Max said quickly, pausing briefly in her frantic collection of the million pieces that covered the tabletop.
“My bad. Broke something with sentimental value,” Chloe mumbled, and Mom squeezed her shoulder in a warning gesture.
“Act right or you’re both out of here,” Mom said before letting her go and hurrying to another table that had called her.
“I think I got all the pieces on my side.” Max cupped her hands together tightly. “If we get another band we can fix them.”
“Forget it, it’s just another shitty thing that happened today.” Chloe threw herself down in the seat and Max tossed her that pitiful, doe-eyed look she’d had in the truck yesterday when Chloe’d reamed her ass out. “Rachel’s not coming back for it, anyway.”
Max’s eyes widened just a little bit before she tried to hide it. Of course, Max was just like the others; everybody said they wanted to understand but they all turned away when she showed them the slightest bit of what she was really feeling inside. Why had she bothered yesterday, Max was going to leave again anyway, especially after today…
Max’s head nodded forward, hands falling, still clasped, onto the table, and she seemed deep in thought for a moment. Chloe’s arms tingled first, like invisible fingers were running up them.
She’d felt this before, but only with herself, and once with Rachel, at that party with the beer before Rachel had run off and blown off her calls. They’d had a fight the next morning that had ended with Rachel wrestling her into a hug.
“Come on, you’re still my partner in crime, you know that,” she’d said, and Chloe had squeezed her around the waist and resisted the urge to bury her face in Rachel’s neck, just to know what it’d feel like instead of just wishing for it.
Chloe focused on that feeling, feeling warmth wrap around her in an aura, like she’d been wrapped in a thick blanket, before it suddenly dissipated. She didn’t see anything floating or hear any smashing plates, so she wasn’t doing anything.
Then she noticed Max lift her head suddenly, blinking and turning like a confused deer, and her hands opened. A white shell bracelet fell out, whole and white and shiny like it’d emerged from the sand just now.
**
“You might actually have to carry me like you promised,” Max joked as she looked at the stairs in Chloe’s house. They seemed imposing and insurmountable right now, even though she was feeling a bit better after the moment in Two Whales (she’d finished the first plate of pancakes and then devoured a second, plus a side of bacon when she still felt shaky).
“I’m not sure how I didn’t fall down them earlier. Hangover plus running equals nearly breaking your neck.” Chloe, standing a few stairs above her, turned to her and offered her hand, and Max took it, letting herself by lead for the second time that day. No, not lead. Forced. Those weird sparks were still emanating off of Chloe, ever since she’d fixed the bracelet and felt a flash of heat envelop her. When they touched, Max felt the energy, and found herself leaning into it for reassurance.
Chloe managed to guide her upstairs and into her room, which smelled powerfully of unwashed clothes and cloying air fresheners probably meant to cover up pot smoke. Without prompting, Max walked across the room and flopped facedown into her bed, feeling like it was spinning underneath her.
“I felt the same way the first few times. It gets better.” Chloe sat down next to her before falling on her back, resting beside her with her hands on her stomach. One hand protected the bracelet on her wrist, the precious object she’d gushed over -- and Max, by proxy -- on the ride here.
“I wish I felt well enough to fix my camera right now,” Max moaned into the blankets. “Whoever did that owes me a new one.”
“I’m sure it’ll set them back twenty-five bucks on eBay. That’s big money, Caulfield.”
Max snorted. “Maybe for you.” She turned her head to look at Chloe. “I guess I can try it later.” She could break a gun and fix tiny jewelry. So she was a handyman’s best friend.
“Got a better idea, and it saves you time, which is money according to the Symmetric Property.”
“You paid attention in geometry, I see.”
“Until they kicked me out,” Chloe said as she walked across the room. Max listened to her shuffling papers and plastic bottles, dragging the chair out from her desk before finding whatever she was looking for and returning to the bed. “Check it, I come bearing tribute.”
She’d given Max a new camera, instant, similar model to her old one. “Thanks, but I’m not sure I can accept it.”
“No way, I want you to have it. It was my dad’s and I’d be happier knowing it was in good hands.” Chloe smiled at her. “Plus if it breaks I know you can put it back together.” She lifted it to her face and said “Smile, hipster!” before snapping a photo.
“Ugh, I look like crap right now.”
“Let’s see what the photo says.” Chloe shook it out and presented it to Max. “You’d fit right in in some indie movie, your eyebags makes you look super dramatic --” She grunted when Max playfully dug her heel into her thigh, and leaned over and gently slugged her shoulder, both laughing.
Chloe laid next to her again and Max rolled onto her back, taking the camera and admiring it. She remembered now; William had taken a hundred photos of them with this thing, at every awkward age (as if this wasn’t also an awkward age). She held it above her head at arm’s length and rested her head close to Chloe’s. “Smile, punk!”
The resulting photo had only half of their faces in frame, one of Chloe’s eyes wide open and red from the exposure and Max’s attractive crooked eyetooth on display in her open mouth. They snickered and took a few more ugly or ridiculous selfies; Chloe made Max laugh when she took one with her tongue waggling between her spread fingers.
“I just found my contest entry.”
“You’re welcome.” Chloe returned the camera and seemed contemplative before she said, “Hey, Max? Earlier, did you feel like...you were cold, or something?”
“I guess. It’s fall.”
“No, like...someone stuffed you in a freezer cold. The other day, in the bathroom, when Nathan told me to shut my mouth, I couldn’t speak. I felt just like that.”
She had to think back on it, but Max nodded. “A little. I don’t remember a lot.” It had only happened a few hours ago but she wanted it as far removed from her world as possible.
“And we know he has a reason to hate us, and is psycho enough to try killing someone… The trick is just proving it.”
“I’m not volunteering again.”
“You don’t have to worry about him,” Chloe said darkly. “He made a mistake when he tried that with you.” She looked at Max with a weak smile, and raised a fist. Max bumped it with her own and they both waved their fingers as they pulled away. A car door slam startled them. "Shit. Stepdouche. I thought he worked tonight."
Max knew she should go back, but held her breath and tensed up at the thought of being back at Blackwell. "...The bus isn't running," she tried feebly.
"The Chloe Price shuttle is. And I owe you big time. Full bodyguard service?"
Max smiled. "I've got a couch."
After bailing, they rode in weary silence to Blackwell.
"Hey, look." Max pointed to a huge blood moon in the sky, bright and haloed in red. And it had a twin. Chloe pulled to the side of the street. "What?"
"I don't know. It's nuts though, right? I just wanna look at it."
Max pulled her knees to her chest even though it made her pants slide down so her panties peeked over the waistband. The engine rumbled softly through her, although the energy that made her skin buzz and itch, her magic well up until it filled her chest, surged from the sight of the moon.
They started at an impossible double blood moon in awe and reverent silence, until Max's feet numbed and her vision blurred and split each moon into halves: four perfect slices of the universe's mystery.
"You believe in omens, Max?"
"I'd believe in anything this week." Even as she spoke, Max felt the knees of her jeans slowly separate beneath her hands.