Chapter 4
“Little light shining, little light guide them to me...” Chloe hummed along even as she lagged behind an out-of-state driver who’d somehow gotten lost on Arcadia Bay’s main drag. As a little kid she’d wandered around the house singing “And Dream of Sheep” at bedtime, at the time extremely literal and thinking it was about falling asleep instead of a woman drowning. If she listened to the album backwards, this song was the last one and she could pretend the woman just simply fell asleep and escaped all her problems.
Kate Bush’s real mom said "Come here with me now" during the interlude; Joyce knew that bit by heart because it was the only part Chloe let her say when she wanted to sing. She’d pick her up and carry her to bed while listing off ports of call, setting Chloe up to howl the second verse loud enough for Dad to hear downstairs. She told her the woman lived in the end, but whatever, nobody survived floating in the ocean overnight. She was fucking dead, Kate Bush.
And Chloe wasn’t sure if she was the woman in The Ninth Wave or if she envied her.
As it was, she was alive and killing time trying to be a good daughter by surprising Mom at work (with something good for once). Wednesday she had weird hours, if Chloe remembered correctly, and because she missed dinner rush it was the one night Chloe Had to make an appearance for family dinner. Joy.
Walking into the diner reminded her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, her stomach bitterly complaining when she smelled grilled cheese and saw someone else tucking into bacon and eggs. She straddled a stool at the counter, waving to the cook when he passed the kitchen window, and waited for Mom to notice she’d made an appearance as the dutiful, thoughtful daughter.
When she did, Mom went through the normal cycle: surprise, poorly-concealed concern, and then a cautious smile. “Look who’s here.” She deftly bussed the abandoned meal at the place next to Chloe’s and said without looking up, “What do you need?”
“Well, some faith in me would be nice but I’d settle for three thousand dollars.” She leaned forward on her elbow and placed errant silverware on the stacked plates. “Do you want a ride home?”
Mom paused, and Chloe was about to ask her if being in the same car with her was some kind of punishment when she nodded. “Sure. Thanks, honey. Just wait for me to finish here -- and don’t order anything.” Chloe scoffed but Mom was unmoved.
She played with her phone, but no more texts from Max. She’d blown up her phone earlier, when she was driving back to town after leaving the closest city where her doctor was:
Wells put me on probation out of nowhere. Screw this place.
wtf?? It’s been two days did my bad influence rub off that fast
Long story but bottom line it’s bullshit. Gotta go to a meeting after school. Meet me after? When Chloe didn’t immediately respond because she hit that last stretch of the highway that was speed trap city, she added: Sorry.
yeah that’s cool
if you need someone to key his car you know where i am
You’re tempting me.
we’ll make a blackwell bad girl out of you yet
Mom wiped off her side of the seat before getting in. “How does your truck get dirtier every time I see it?”
“Well, there’s always the bus…”
“It was a joke, Chloe.”
“Jokes are funny.” She squeezed the steering wheel and started her engine. ‘Calm down,’ she thought. ‘Don’t do what we always do.’ “Max and I went to the beach earlier. I’ll vacuum it when I get home.”
“Sounds like a plan. Did you make it to the doctor?”
“Check my glove box.” Inside was the receipt and stupid fucking list she had to ask the therapist to date and initial after every meeting like she was in fifth grade. “It was fine,” she offered to pre-empt any questions.
“How do you think it’s going?”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
Mom patted her knee. “Good. You seem more comfortable lately.” She finally noticed Chloe’s phone, how she’d turned The Ninth Wave back on and Kate Bush sang to the Earth that she was just done fighting the water. “Have you changed your mind about inviting me and David for a session?”
“Hell no,” Chloe said before she could stop herself. “Uh. I mean. You can still come, and he can sit at home and go over his latest intel. I’m sure he’d like that better.”
“Chloe,” Mom sighed, “believe it or not, he does want to understand what you’re going through.”
Chloe had a lot of comebacks for that one. The only thing he understands is the chain of command or That’s why he took my car apart for the first three months when I came home. “When I started this, you said what I shared was up to me. Why is it so hard to believe that I feel better without him knowing whatever fucked-up shit I’ve been thinking about lately?”
“I know you’re doing your best, Chloe. And I want to give you credit for that. Can you please just give us the same right now?” Mom rubbed her shoulder and Chloe did her best not to shift away. Kate admonished them about giving up on life when there was so much life left to live. “Promise me you’ll keep thinking about it?”
“Fine.”
“How’s Max? I can’t believe how much she’s grown up.”
“She hasn’t changed much.” Chloe nodded. “In a lot of good ways. I’m turning around and meeting her at school later. She has some photography project so I’m taking her around town,” she lied.
They pulled into the driveway and before getting out, Mom said, “She can come over for dinner tonight.”
“You get to tell the Commandant that.” She lifted a shoulder. “But I’ll think about it.” She didn’t pull out of the one-armed hug Mom gave her. She kissed her cheek, and Chloe made a face just to be difficult. At least last year, they might not even have done that.
**
Max looked around the room, and still couldn’t believe she was stuck here now, and with whom. To her left, Kate shifted in her seat like she was trying not to touch anything and Warren had slid his chair so far back from the circle he was pressed up against the counter. At least Victoria, sour-faced and sitting alone across from the trio, looked even more unhappy and offended that she had to be here. This was likely cutting into precious manicure and rager time.
"Thank you all for coming. I know it's not easy to be here so I'm glad you came. Let's lay down some ground rules..." Max half-listened to them, too focused on the staring contest she'd entered with Victoria. She smirked, but her left foot bounced and her arms were crossed -- and when Max gave her a little finger wave while pretending to scratch her head, Victoria flipped her off.
"Problem, ladies?" Mr. Jefferson said sternly, and Victoria leapt at the chance:
"Yes, actually. I don't think this is the best use of my time when I'm so busy with school and being a contributing member of the Blackwell community. And," she looked at Max, "I think people with serious issues need your attention the most."
"You wouldn't be here if your issues didn't seriously concern the administration -- and need I remind you participation was voluntary." Victoria sulked and Max guessed hers was about as 'voluntary' as Max's. What did Wells have on her?
"Shouldn't we share why we're here?" Max said, unable to keep herself from stirring the pot in Chloe's absence.
"That's one idea -- Warren, get back into the circle." Looking at him, Warren had scooted further to the right. He hesitated, face flickering, and tried to stretch and seem casual.
"I...feel better right here."
Mr. Jefferson shook his head and beckoned him over. "Everyone participates." After a moment, Warren reluctantly obeyed. "It won't kill you."
Warren held his temples like he disagreed. Max felt nauseous looking at him, irritated she -- he was being called out.
"I'll go," Kate said. She tucked her hands under her thighs and re-crossed her feet at the ankles, rocking a little. "I want to know how better to help a friend."
"Interpersonal problems? Elaborate."
"I think," she said firmly when Max looked at her, frowning, "a friend is lying to me about how she's doing and I'm here to understand what she's going through."
"But what about you Kate -- oh!" The lens cap he'd been fiddling with popped up between his fingers and bounced before rolling to her feet. "Could you get that for me?"
Kate looked at it like it was a steel trap, before nodding hesitantly and pulling her sleeve down over her hand and reaching for it. She flinched when she touched it, fumbling, and then jumped up and set it on his desk like it was a hot coal. "Thank you. Is there anything else you'd like to share?"
She sat down and shook her head. "Um, insomnia? Maybe?" She was quiet and unconvincing.
"Around the circle works just as well. Victoria?"
"I'm being bullied." She sighed and slumped her shoulders in her best attempt to win an Oscar. "An ex-friend is spreading terrible rumors about me and I can barely eat or sleep."
"Like what?" Max crossed her arms and leaned forward, unable to help her challenging tone.
Victoria wiped at her eyes. "That I'm part of the reason Rach -- one of my best friends -- committed suicide! How could she, especially when I'm already torn up about losing her?"
‘Are you kidding me?’ Max wanted to shout, but someone beat her to it:
"That sounds really hard, Victoria," Warren said. "You must be holding it all in, 'cause I haven't seen you or Nathan crying over her." He sounded stronger, certain in his veiled implication.
Victoria doubled down and nodded, rubbing at her eyes hard enough to expertly smear her eyeliner. "Nathan's stood by me this whole time. I can't stand what people are saying about him either." She let out a broken sob that might've convinced someone who didn't know her as Satan's understudy.
"Yeah -- Nathan would never spread that hateful picture of her memorial," Max said innocently.
Victoria glared and didn't cover it in time for her act to stick. "Well...it sounds like interpersonal communication skills are something we're going to have to work on," Mr. Jefferson said. "Warren? Have any fresh insights on this?"
"I think..." he tossed Max a cautious look, and she regretted saying something she couldn't take back. "That being sensitive isn't something I think about much."
"Warren," he slapped the desk beside him. "Leave your worries about looking 'beta' at the door." He shrugged. "If that's what you kids say anyway." He pointed to Warren, who looked annoyed. "And after Max has said her piece, you've given me an idea for an exercise."
Max was suddenly on the spot. "I..." She rubbed her arm, conscious of the fact that her palms weren't tingling but it took restraining every breath to prevent it. "I didn't want to come here. I felt backed into a corner," -- she looked at Kate -- "and like I can deal by myself." Breathe in, sear. Breathe out, throb. She could breathe through her skin, she could fill her senses with the same energy she'd flooded Wells' office with earlier.
"Max?" She tried to breathe, throat closing up, and when Kate put a hand on her knee a pure electric surge ran up her thigh, though her torso to the front of her brain. It forced out the pain and poison and surrounded her with most perfect protection. A shield, not a fortress. She met Kate's eyes and felt like embracing her as her energy tenderly worked through her being and left no room for fear of herself.
"...Max." Mr. Jefferson jolted them apart. "If you'd like to finish before curfew?"
"I think I don't know what's wrong with me," she admitted. "But it's not something being here will help."
"Let yourself be surprised," Mr. Jefferson said with no warmth. "Max, if you're so stuck for words, it sounds like we're due for that exercise." He crossed his ankle over one knee. "Mouths closed, eyes closed, minds open, okay? On my count, take a deep breath --" inhale "-- and out. Think about the full moon last night. What did you see exactly? Even if it defies the laws of nature? Be honest."
The double blood moon rose high over Max, and in her mind she saw it fill the sky above her. She felt as tiny as she had on Mt. Rainer and as weak as when she had the flu. She did not stand alone under its gaze, though she saw nobody. She felt distinct entities around her, each aura dynamic and fluid. Forgetting the moon, Max gasped and tore her head out of the vision before she abandoned reality. Looking around the room, she saw the others slowly surface, looking as perturbed as she felt.
Only Mr. Jefferson stood perfectly straight and solid, considering them all with an artist's eye. "Cleared your heads? Good. Let's talk."
They finally broke for the day after violating every law of Active Listening, and on the way out Victoria shoulder-checked her. Her phone had about fifty notifications, and Warren tapped her shoulder in the middle of checking them. "Busy?"
Chloe, Chloe, Chloe; scrolling down it was nothing but her. "Yeah. Uh, see you tomorrow?"
"Does it have to be?"
"Yes," she said more firmly, giving him a wave over her shoulder. "But you know where to find me now."
She dashed out into the parking lot and the early evening sunset, toward a familiar truck idling in the far corner of the lot.
**
"Max, seriously, the last time I saw anyone this manic it was me after someone slipped me E at a show." Chloe watched Max twirl obliviously, arms swinging, stumbling to a stop and almost falling on her ass. "What the hell did they do to you?"
"Nothing!" She faced Chloe, catching her breath with a small smile. Like a little kid. "I feel awesome!" She grabbed Chloe's hands and yanked her around with strength like Chloe's own powers, whirling them in circles. Tendrils of energy whipped off her and made her head spin, and they fumbled to a stop.
"You're such a nerd," Chloe teased, though she didn't let go of her. The more they touched the less she wanted to be apart. That magic interaction cut through the haze of apathy, akathisia, and substance hangovers that overshadowed her entire post-Rachel life. It would never be enough sustenance.
Max sat down heavily in the grass, flopped back with eyes closed, a stupid grin, and her hands tangled in the grass by her head. Totally tripping, Chloe thought, then wondered at how the greenery around Max thickened and surrounded her in a lush halo that rose high enough to brush her nose. "Max?"
"Huh?" Max took it in, twirled grass around her fingers, too thick for her to keep hold of it. "Am I doing this?" She sighed, "That's awesome." Her eyes fell shut, and her breathing slowed. Chloe had to nudge her ribs with the toe of her boot to get her to rouse.
"Well, you're awesome." She sat cross-legged by her side. "But are you awesome enough to survive a sup at Fort Dickhole? Mom invited you and it would really win some points with my warden right now to look like a normal person." She frowned. "With a friend who's not acting totally stoned."
"I'll try." Max's hands relaxed and she turned her head to Chloe, failing at not looking stoned. "How do you not feel like this all the time?"
The fire was so, so hot and orange and devoured oxygen so quickly that Chloe didn't need to feed the bonfire after a minute. Shadows flickered and twitched like dancing figures against the junk piles.
'Fire is jealous, Chloe,' Dad tried to tell her once, but when she stepped forward and put her hand into the heart of the flames, it didn't eat a single piece of her.
Chloe laid beside her so they were at an acute angle, heads touching and looking up at the first stars of the evening. The new grass was softer than anything in spring. "It gets old," she lied.
"We won't." Max reached between them and held her hand, threading their fingers and weaving errant strands of magic tighter and tighter between them.
Quiet and peaceful, they stayed until Chloe said, "Should we go? I'd have more fun swallowing needles, but if you're there it might not suck as much." The consequences of going AWOL were worse than of going, but that was a very, very long story for another night. And one more after that.
"Yeah. What's the worst he can do?"
'Don't tempt fate, Max.'