Exhalation and Exaltation
Chloe had one big, fatal flaw, and one deep, inescapable secret. This secret - this flaw - this crack in the shiny veneer that was her punk facade hounded her. Especially when it came to Max.
Max, the world’s most adorable dork.
The secret was that Chloe was a helpless romantic.
She would never admit it, of course. She tried to avoid showing signs of it, too. She thought that maybe Rachel knew, or at least suspected, but she hadn’t said anything yet.
But she was a hapless romantic. No strings attached, total softy. She had a warm, mushy heart below all the layers of grinning confidence and chain-smoking badassery.
And Max was pulling at that part of her stronger than anyone else ever had.
They had met when she texted the wrong number, for God’s sake. It was so cliche, but Chloe couldn’t bring herself to give a crap. Not when she was practically melting with helpless attraction.
She just wanted to give Max some cuddles, a box of chocolates, and a decent makeout session.
And it was so much worse, because she could see so clearly past the veneer Max put up when she was texting. The confident snark and sardonicism that only rarely caved.
And then there were the moments that really roped Chloe in. The moments when Max was simply the most adorable creature on planet earth - so painfully shy, so adorably clever, with that wide-eyed naivete hidden behind the damaged bullying victim.
And - though, as a romantic, Chloe tried to deny this - it certainly helped that she had a very appealing neck.
Problem was, Rachel was apparently hopeless when it came to wooing nerds. Somehow, despite being a nerd herself, she had no idea how to get into a relationship with one.
(Chloe thought that this was Rachel’s biggest secret. She was a closet dork.)
But Chloe knew that the distance was just too big, if she really wanted to woo Max. Which she did.
Texting worked fine, if you were playing the slow game. She could maybe grow past Max’s walls with just texting. But it would be slow going, and less effective than something a bit more… personal.
Like a call, for example.
She had been thinking about getting Max into a call for at least a few days at this point. She wanted to hear the girl’s voice so badly - she just knew Max would sound just as adorable as she acted - and a call established a kind of… intimacy, that texting just didn’t.
Chloe rarely doubted herself.
And so - despite the gentle stirrings of anxiety in her gut - she sent Max a text.
hey dork
you there?
It helped that they already had playful nicknames, and that they knew each other’s real names for the moments they wanted to be… less playful.
There was a pause.
Yes.
She sighed a little - glad she didn’t have to wait and worry - but the response penetrated her mind quickly, and the worry reared its head again.
you got some time?
Yes.
She blinked.
uh... not super enthused, huh?
Oh.
Right. Sorry.
Hooray. The excitement.
She couldn’t help the noise of amusement that escaped her, even as the familiar worry began to take on a slightly darker shade.
is something wrong?
Her foot began to jackrabbit.
Heh.
Is it that obvious?
She blinked again. Max wasn’t usually this... open, about not being okay.
you wanna talk about it?
I…
I dunno.
Not super sure it’s something I can put into words.
That was…
Helpful?
It was the perfect segway, anyway.
She gripped the chance before it left.
i could
call you?
Silence.
It suddenly seemed so much more quiet in her room, when the only thing accompanying that quiet was the jerking motion of her foot.
Her fingers began to tap the back of her phone sporadically.
She wasn’t used to being… unsure.
That
would be nice.
...Oh.
She couldn’t help the triumph spreading in her gut, seeping into her ribs - even as the concern grew.
cool
But the concern only really became genuine worry when Max called her.
The pause was incredibly short.
She lifted the phone. Barely-audible dial tone drone filtered into her ear.
“...Chloe?”
Her breath hitched, just a little.
I knew it.
She had known Max would sound adorable.
“Max?”
Her voice came out softer then she had intended.
She strained to hear a reaction. Any reaction. Even disgust - as unlikely as that was - would be better than this bubbling, sickening anxiety.
“Oh.”
Max’s voice was even softer, that time.
It struck her that Max said ‘oh’ a lot in her texts, too.
“You… don’t sound like I expected.”
“Is that… good?”
She hadn’t meant for her tone to take that needling quality, either.
“It’s… fine? I mean, you sound… nice…”
She felt a familiar sardonic smirk stretch across her face, teasing and bright. The anxiety vanished.
It was just Max. Without the confident veneer and without the snark, but still - just Max.
“Just ‘nice’, then? I have the velvety tones of a siren, thank you.” She said proudly, trying to inject fake indignation into her tone.
Max snorted, very quietly, across the line.
“You wish.”
Ah, there was the snark.
“What’re you trying to say, dork? That I haven’t the voice of an angel?”
“What are.”
She blinked.
“Huh?”
“Not ‘what’re’. What are.”
She blinked again.
And then groaned.
“Oh geez, you’re a grammar nazi in person, too?”
Silence.
“...I… guess, yeah.”
“...Sorry.”
Oh God.
She was dealing with someone who couldn’t tell a joke from an insult.
Because of course Max couldn’t tell - she was sensitive and open-hearted and bullied.
“A joke, Max, it was a joke.” She emphasized carefully. “No need to get worked up over it.”
“...Oh. Right.”
“...Sorry.”
“And there is also no need to apologize!” She said cheerily, leaning back in her seat.
“Right. Sorry.”
“Okay, we’re banning to word sorry from your vocabulary from now on.” She said instantly, a tiny grin touching her lips. “You use it far too much, and always in the wrong context.”
“Do I? I… hadn’t noticed. Victoria says I apologize too much, I guess, but… she never really sounded… broken up about it? Like, she didn’t seem to… mind, all that much…”
Oh, right. Victoria. The biggest roadblock to wooing Max.
...She liked Victoria less every time she heard something about her.
“Well, we are hereby banning the use of apologies in conversation until you learn to use them more sparingly.” She said, trying to keep a grip on the stirrings of resentment in her gut. “We simply can’t have you overusing a word, now can we?”
“Uh… yes?”
“See, now you’re getting it!” Chock full of delight.
Max snorted again - soft, and quiet, and dammit she was already getting addicted to the sound of it.
“Wowsers. I’m really learning so much.”
She really did prefer the snarky Max to the insecure one.
“‘Wowsers’? And you berated my use of fiddlesticks - clearly you too use childish slurs!”
Again, that tiny, quiet, adorable snort.
“We’re all children, at heart.”
“Truer words, Max.” She responded, as sagely as she could.
“Some of us more than others.”
“Wha - hey!”
And Max giggled.
Like, a full on giddy giggle, that completely melted her heart in record time.
Oh Christ.
She was in love.