Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chloe clung to the phone like it was her lifeline. Maybe it was more like how one would hold onto a venomous snake. A bit of both? A bit of both.

Her thumb trembled over the call button. She’d already dialed the number. Just one push and she could hear her best friend’s voice again. Just one push and it could be like it used to be, if only for a brief time.

No, it won’t be. It CAN’T be.

She’d told herself that more times than she could count, every time she’d picked up this phone for the last six months. She just didn’t want to accept it.

“Fuck,” Chloe choked on the word as she pressed the button to clear the number. She dropped the handset on the floor and dashed for the stairs, ignoring the indignant calls of her mother. The tears managed to stay contained long enough for her door to slam and her face to bury itself into a pillow.

She screamed. She didn’t stop until her voice gave out.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this… We said forever, didn’t we, Max? We promised.

Just like that, her despair swiveled on a dime and became anger. She clenched her teeth, growled every swear word she knew, punched and throttled her pillow until her hands started to cramp.

It didn’t even begin to convey what she felt. No amount of tears or screaming or swearing could express the gaping void in her heart. 

The anger burned itself out in short order, but the despair didn’t return to replace it. Instead she was left feeling… numb. Empty. Unable to do anything other than collapse on her bed and whimper softly.

There was a gentle knocking at her door. Her mother’s voice. Chloe couldn’t even summon the effort to tell her to go away. Thankfully, she left on her own after a few minutes of trying. 

Smart, right? To wallow in how alone she was now, then turn away the one person who was trying to be there for her? Excellent thinking, Chloe. A+.

But what help could Joyce provide anyway? She was just as torn up about William’s death as Chloe was, maybe more so. Hard to help someone else when you can’t even help yourself.

Besides, there was only one person that Chloe wanted to be there. Only one person that knew her inside and out, that could make everything feel right, that could complete her. And Chloe had lost her too.

It had been six months since Max’s sudden exit from Chloe’s life. Since then she’d heard nothing. No calls, no sign that she even remembered her so called best friend. Not a day had gone by where Chloe hadn’t looked back on all their old photos and mementos. Yet, even surrounded by so much proof, she found herself doubting whether Max had ever really existed.

Now you’re just being melodramatic, she chided herself. She existed. DOES exist… but maybe she wants to forget that I do.

Of course, keeping in touch was a two way street. She had to keep reminding herself during her rare moments of lucidity. Max hadn’t contacted Chloe, but Chloe hadn’t exactly contacted Max either. Not for lack of trying, obviously, but… Fucking hell, why should it be on her to reach out first? All the shit she was going through right now, and Max couldn’t even bother to check in? Chloe had to swallow her grief and be the one to put in the effort?

Max loved William too, a sane part of her brain said. She’s grieving too. All those times you’ve tried to call? Maybe… maybe she’s done the same thing. Can’t fault her for that, can you?

Damn logic brain, ruining her brooding. Next thing you know people might start thinking of her as a reasonable person.

It seemed a longshot, but she clung to it. It was a strand of hope, however thin. Now what to do with it? She seriously doubted she’d be able to make a call if she tried again. Even if they did, what could be said that would make up for six months of nothing?

No, if Chloe was going to be the one to do this, she needed to be able to express everything she was feeling without the opportunity for misunderstanding or interruption. She needed a way to show, in no uncertain terms, how pissed off Max’s silence made her. How it tore her apart inside. How it was probably the most anyone had ever hurt her before.

How completely ready to forgive she was. Good lord, she’d forgive damn near anything just to have her friend back.

Might as well ask for a telepathic link to her brain, Chloe grumbled to herself, sitting up in her bed. The light outside her window had changed an alarming amount. How long had she been in here? Several hours at least? Late evening’s rays filtered through her blinds, casting bands of gold on her desk. 

Memories cluttered its surface in every form, from photos to drawings to CDs and scraps of old homework assignments. She found herself walking over to them without thinking and picked up a tattered piece of notebook paper. There, in Max’s distinct handwriting, was a long and thought out essay of all the reasons Chloe was her best friend. It had been an assignment back in elementary school, what now seemed a lifetime ago. Chloe managed a small smile at how neat the words were, how lengthy each answer was. Even back then Max had been so sappy.

Not that Chloe wasn’t sappy at times. She was just better at hiding it. Usually.

She brushed a thumb across the name at the top, words written by Max’s own hand. Something about that comforted Chloe. In some weird, sappy, sentimental way, it was like having a tiny piece of Max herself. There were pieces of her in every photo she’d taken and every dumb arts and crafts project they’d made, but there was something particularly special about written words. Almost like—

Chloe gasped as the idea hit her like a bolt of lightning.

She was moving before it had fully taken form in her brain, carefully taking her mementos of Max from the desk and putting them back in their box. She threw drawers open frantically until she found an unsullied notebook and a pen. She sat down, and without even pausing to consider her words, she started to write.

For a long while she was locked in a reverie with nothing but the scratching of her pen to disturb her speeding train of thoughts. There was a nervous, excited, furious energy to her hand as the words poured onto the page. Her handwriting suffered for it, especially in the angriest sections. Some parts of it were smudged by the occasional tear that fell to the paper. But it was still legible, so she didn’t care. 

She had many things to say, most of which she would never dare to say out loud. Most of which she could never say to anyone who hadn’t been her partner in crime for so much of her life. All of it combined together dwarfed any essay she’d ever written, for she cared about this far more than any stupid school assignment. 

By the time she dropped the pen, the sun’s light had nearly faded, and her hand was burning. She sat rigid in her chair, breath heavy, heart pounding like she’d just ran a mile, staring down at the novella she’d just written. Damn, what had come over her? 

Chloe picked it up with trembling hands and reread it. God damn, some parts of this were scathing, enough to give her pause. Other parts made her start tearing up again. This was like a direct window into her soul. If anyone read this…

Only one person has to.

But could she make herself send it? Even if she did, would Max bother reading it? A not-small part of her was tempted to just tear the pages in two and throw them in the trash. The mere act of venting into the paper seemed to have helped some, perhaps it was best to just leave it at that. She gripped the top of the pages. The smallest of rips appeared.

Knocking at her door again. “Chloe? Honey? Please let me in. I’m worried.”

Mom. By the ragged sound of her voice, she’d been crying too. Way to go, Chloe. Stupid, selfish Chloe.

“C-Come in,” she managed.

Joyce’s eyes were red, but full of nothing but concern as she stepped inside. “Are you okay?”

“What do you think?”

She sighed. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard. It’s hard for me too, you know. I can’t understand how much it hurt you when Max left on top of… of William’s… And I know I can’t replace her for you, but I’m… I’m trying best here, Chloe. I hate seeing you like this… And I think William and Max would too.”

Even she talks about Max like she’s dead, Chloe thought as tears filled her eyes again. She’d thought she was out of those. She stood and rushed into Joyce’s embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled into her mother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Joyce whispered, squeezing Chloe tight. “I’m here for you, Chloe. Helping you would help me too. So if there’s anything you need, anything you think I can do to help, please ask me.”

Chloe allowed herself the smallest of smiles. “Even… unlimited bacon at Two Whales?”

Joyce chuckled. “I should’ve said anything within reason.”

Little jokes, her mother’s laugh. A small spark of light in the vast dark. It wouldn’t last. Moments like this weren’t enough to keep her afloat, especially when Joyce herself was also struggling not to drown. But it was something.

And in the light of that spark, Chloe made her decision. She lifted her head from Joyce’s shoulder to look at the stack of paper. It would either rekindle the brightest flame Chloe had in her life, or it would smother it entirely. The latter made her sick to consider. But better that than waiting forever for nothing. At least in that case… she might be able to move on. Maybe.

Besides, a hipster like Max might appreciate the novelty of it.

“Actually,” Chloe started, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “I need an envelope. And a stamp.”

Max had barely made it through the front door when her mother wrapped her in a tight hug.

“Welcome home,” she said with a squeeze, her voice just a bit too chipper for Monday evening. “How was school?”

“Uh,” Max managed as she struggled to breathe in her mother’s grip. “Fine? Nothing special really.”

Nothing special was a lie, of sorts. It didn’t even begin to cover how bland and lifeless her school life was these days. Day in and day out, it was always the same. The same nameless faces, the same dull assignments and classes, the same tasteless cafeteria food. She still had no real friends in Seattle. No one took notice of her, and so she passed between them like a ghost that came and went with the sun’s light. 

And truth be told, she wasn’t sure she wanted new friends, no matter how her parents insisted. No one could ever replace Chloe.

And yet you still can’t work up the willpower to call her. Some friend you are.

She’d tried. So many times she’d tried. She’d stand there with the phone in her hand for several minutes until her anxiety forced her to set it down. Making the call meant having to face Chloe’s grief as well as her own. It would mean facing Chloe’s anger for six months of no contact, and each passing day only made that fear worse. It meant forcing herself back into Chloe’s life, when maybe all Chloe really wanted right now was for Max to stay gone.

Stupid, yes, but the anxious brain wasn’t beholden to logic.

Normally Mom would’ve grilled her for something interesting about the school day, but today she mercifully had something else on her mind. “I have something for you, Max.”

“Hmm?” 

“You’ve got some mail.”

“Mail?” She cocked an eyebrow. What on earth could she possibly have for mail? Somehow she doubted it was an early invitation to a prodigious photography school.

With no further explanation, she handed Max a thick white envelope. Sure enough, it was addressed to Max Caulfield. Who would—

Her heart jumped into her throat.

This… This handwriting is…

The return address in the corner confirmed it.

Max bolted past her incredulous mother for the stairs. She was in the process of tearing the envelope open when she made it to her room, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it. She flicked the light on and jumped onto her bed, tossing aside the tattered remains of the envelope. 

It had contained sheets of notebook paper, covered from front to back in black ink. The handwriting was agitated and smudged in places, but there was absolutely no mistaking who had written it. Max swallowed hard, clutching the paper with trembling hands as she started to read.

Dear Max,

Listen up, Caulfield. I’m sitting at my desk writing out a letter by hand like some kind of barbarian purely for the sake of talking to you for once, so you’d better actually read every word of this.

Let’s get this out of the way first. I’m fucking pissed at you.

It’s been six goddamn months since you left and I haven’t heard a single goddamn word. You know who really needs your words right now? You know who could use a little support from their so called “best friend” right after their fucking dad died? I’ll give you one guess.

I mean, for fuck’s sake Max! You know that if it had been me moving away after your dad died, I would’ve called you every day of the fucking week? What exactly did you think “forever” meant? Until you left town? Was it always just a fair weather word to you? 

Jesus, okay, slow down Chloe. That was harsh. I’m sorry. I’d change it, but like the genius I am, I decided to start this in pen. Too late now. You’re getting the unabridged, unfiltered train of my thoughts. No matter how pissed at you I am, you are the only person I trust with everything I’m thinking.

But even if I admit that was harsh, I really AM pissed at you. And pissed at myself. And pissed at a fucking lot of things really. God damn I’m just so pissed off all the time now. I don’t remember where I thought I was going with this. Let me try to sort this out.

May as well start at the beginning. The day that you left was the single worst day of my life. Yes, even worse than the day my dad died. Awful as that was, at least I had you there with me. But then, you left when that wound hadn’t even begun to heal. It literally felt like having a part of myself ripped away. It was like losing him all over again, only this time with no one to turn to. Mom does what she can, but… fuck man, I don’t know. She doesn’t understand me or whatever cliche bullshit teenagers say. Only you ever really did.

My only comfort was the thought that we could still talk. I waited by the phone for hours almost every night hoping you would call. I really wanted, really NEEDED to hear your voice, to hear something that wasn’t my mom’s nagging or my own crying. Instead I got six months of listening to the voice in the back of my head talking all about how you’d finally taken this opportunity to get away from me, that maybe you’d always wanted to. I never did deserve a friend like you, so that made perfect sense. Still does, even now.

I’ve been missing a lot of classes. My grades are slipping. I spend all my time out of school either locked in my room or standing by the phone trying to work up the courage to call you. I cry myself to sleep every night. I’m not living anymore, Max, not really. I’m just kind of… waiting. You remember that old Spongebob line we always used to quote? “What do you normally do when I’m gone?” “Wait for you to get back.”

This is going to sound sappy as fuck, but I don’t know how to live without you yet, Max. What am I supposed to do, have pirate adventures on my own? Find some other cute hipster to tease? Get someone else who knows me so well I feel like I can tell them anything? No. I can’t replace you. Even if I could, I wouldn’t. 

But the hole you left behind, the hole my dad left, I don’t know how to fill it with anything other than sobbing or anger. I’ve always been the braver of us (you little chickenshit) but now I’m getting like, serious urges. Self destructive ones. The logical part of me (that’s only still alive because of you) knows how stupid it all is, but why the fuck should I care? What does it matter? My dad is dead, my best friend is gone, nothing fucking matters anymore. Mom puts on a big show of worry, but honestly? It scared me too, Max. It really fucking did. But I don’t know if I can care enough to be scared anymore.

Let me be perfectly clear, I’m not trying to guilt trip you into staying friends with me. Well, okay, I kind of am, but fuck Max. We promised forever! If this all sounds clingy as hell, it’s because it is definitely clingy as hell. And how can I not be after all we’ve been through together? We’re Max and Chloe! The Arcadia Bay pirates! We were gonna rule the world together! Even when you left I still believed that! And I STILL want to believe that!

I really don’t need to say this, but. You’re my best friend Max. No matter how harsh I’ve been so far, no matter how pissed off at you I am, that’s still true. It will ALWAYS be true. And it might make me a total pushover, but I am completely ready and willing to forgive you for everything. Assuming that you’ll forgive me too.

I’ve been a dick so far. You’re not entirely to blame. Some of it is on me. I could have been the one to call. I tried, so many times, but I always siked myself out of it. And maybe you tried a lot too, and weren’t able to for all the same reasons. You loved William too. You have your own grief to process. And maybe you miss me as much as I miss you. 

Or maybe my brain weasels were right and you just don’t want to deal with me. Maybe you were still on the fence before my dickishness in this letter convinced you otherwise. And you know what? I think I could find a way to live with that, somehow in the very distant future, if I knew for sure that’s what you wanted. But I need to KNOW first.

So, the whole point of this is to ask you for some kind of sign, one way or the other. I don’t care what it is. If you really wanted you could have your mom leave a message on our answering machine that says “Fuck off and die Chloe,” and that would be better than nothing. 

But I hope that it won’t turn out that way. I know things can never go back to how they were. Maybe the Arcadia Bay pirates will never sail together again. But I still want you in my life in some form or other. I want my best friend back.

Damn it. Only you could get this kind of sappy crap out of me. Burn this after you read it. I have a reputation to uphold.

I’m running out of ways to phrase all this. I never was as good at words as you.  The message here isn’t “I’m pissed, never speak to me again.” The message is “I couldn’t be this pissed at you if I didn’t really fucking care about you and miss you more than I can express so please please please give me something, anything.”

This doesn’t even convey half of what I want it to, but my hand is cramping and there’s some things that words can’t do justice. You know me well enough to fill in the blanks. I hope you appreciate the effort at least. I think I wrote more here than in all of this school year combined.

So I guess my rant is over now. I really hope to hear from you soon, for better or worse.

Your (hopefully still) best friend,

Chloe

The pages fluttered out of Max’s shaking hands and landed on the bed, several more of the words smudged by fresh teardrops. For a long several minutes she couldn’t do anything but bury her face in her hands and sob. At some point there was a knock on her door, but she yelled for them to go away. 

Jesus, Chloe… I’m so sorry…

Max was, without a doubt, the shittiest best friend in the history of all best friends. She’d known Chloe had to be struggling just as much or more than she was, but for her to start doubting that Max wanted to be friends anymore? That got to her way more than any of the rest of it did. She could take Chloe’s harshest anger because she deserved it. But when her definition of forever was called into question, that’s how she knew how badly she’d fucked up. She’d almost be tempted to believe Chloe would be better off without someone like her as a friend, were her letter not so clearly stating the opposite.

When Max’s tears subsided enough, she picked up the pages and reread them. Then she read them again, and then again. She could tell exactly how Chloe had been feeling at each point of writing this letter by how her handwriting style changed. Tight, sharp angles in the beginning for anger. Squiggly and blotchy curves in the middle where her tears had fallen. Lighter ink in the last few sections, the pen not pressed quite so hard against the paper as she made her last pleas.

Despite the depressing content, Max couldn’t help but give the pages a tearful smile. Chloe’s hand had written these words. Her passion was practically oozing from them. She’d bared herself open to Max again, just like they used to do in their late night talks at their sleepovers. In a way… it was like Chloe had sent a piece of herself to Max. An angry and sad and afraid piece, but a piece nonetheless.

Max placed it against her chest, crying softly now. She knew exactly how Chloe felt. She’d been pissed at herself for not having the guts to just make the call. She’d been torn apart by William’s death and being forced to move away. She had no clue how to live in this big and scary town without her partner in crime. She hadn’t been living, she’d been waiting, like Chloe said. And more than anything, she desperately wanted her friend back. 

I’m so, so sorry, Chloe… This ends now. I’m going to make it up to you. I don’t know how, or if I ever can, but I’m going to fucking try. We said forever, and I meant it. I won’t ever give you cause to doubt me again.

She stood, intending to march downstairs, go to the phone and call Chloe this instant. But then, as she glanced one more at Chloe’s passionate letter, another idea came to mind. She was immediately enamored with it. It’d be slow — Chloe would live another few days thinking Max hated her — but after the effort Chloe had put into this, she had to return the favor, to show Chloe just as much passion as Chloe had shown her. 

Besides, there was just something special about written words. A certain… romance, almost.

Chloe’s letter still in hand, Max went to her desk and started looking for notebook paper.

Chapter Text

Chloe was lying alone in her room crying softly — what the hell else was new — when she heard a soft knocking at her door.

“Chloe? I have something for you,” Joyce said, sounding… perky. Happy, almost.

“I don’t care,” Chloe called, stifling another sob. She actually felt irritated at her mother’s chipper tone. What the hell was there to be cheerful about? Dad was still dead. Max was still gone. And after two more weeks with no contact despite the plea in her letter, it was looking more and more likely that Max really did want nothing to do with her after all.

Stupid, she chastised herself for the millionth time. She probably didn’t even open it.

“Oh, I think you’ll care quite a lot about this,” Joyce said, her tone not even slightly dampened by Chloe’s attitude.”You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

Waiting for… does… does she mean…

The knob shook as Joyce tried to open the locked door. Instead of demanding that Chloe unlock it like she might have normally done, there was the soft scratch of something sliding across the floor. “I did tell you not to assume the worst, didn’t I?”

Chloe managed to lift her head as her mother’s footsteps echoed down the stairs. Something had slid under her door. A thick white envelope, with faint writing in black ink.

Her heart missed a beat.

She leapt out of bed so fast her legs got caught up in her blankets and brought her slamming to the floor. She shook off the pain and crawled the rest of the way to the envelope. She snatched it off the floor and held it in shaking hands, her eyes getting teary again as she read the familiar handwriting, from a return address in Seattle.

She actually made me wait for snail mail for her reply… Asshole, Chloe thought with a broad smile.

She didn’t even bother going back to her bed to tear the envelope open. Several sheets of notebook paper fell out, along with a thick rectangle that Chloe instantly recognized as a Polaroid. She took that first and spun it around.

Max. There she was. 

It was a selfie, of all things; she’d never wanted to take pictures of herself without Chloe in them before. She still looked basically the same as the last time Chloe had seen her, with her brown hair in a ponytail, her face full of freckles, and her sense of fashion wildly in need of outside care. However, there were dark circles under her bloodshot eyes — she’d obviously been sleeping poorly, and crying somewhat recently. The small smile on her face didn’t reach her eyes, which were almost pleading. In her free hand, she held up a small note card with a simple message scrawled in black marker: I’M SORRY.

Chloe’s mind immediately went into overthinking mode. Sorry? Sorry about what? Could it mean “Sorry that this is the last time you’ll ever hear from me because this letter is actually telling you to fuck off?” 

She had an easy way to find out. Still sprawled out on the floor, she took the pages of Max’s letter and held them above her head, slowly reading through every single word of her best friend’s writing.

Dear Chloe,

I am so, so, SO fucking sorry. Get used to reading that, I’m going to be saying that a lot. No amount of saying it can ever express how sorry I am. And it won’t fix things between us. But it’s a good place to start.

Before I say anything else, I need to state the explicit intent of this letter, because if I know you as well as I think do, your mind is definitely going into overthink mode right about now. You’re probably thinking I’m saying sorry because this is like my breakup letter to you, right? Give me an “Aye aye, Captain,” if I’m right.

Chloe gave a shallow chuckle and a mumbled “Aye aye, Captain.” Damn it, Max did know her too well.

Wow, I could hear that from Seattle.

Well, your Captain orders you to stop overthinking. This isn’t like a breakup letter. I am, in no uncertain terms, still your best friend, and I always will be. Forever DOES mean forever, even if I haven’t been the best at showing that recently.

I say again in case you skipped the last paragraph: I STILL VERY MUCH WANT TO BE YOUR BEST FRIEND, THIS IS NOT ME TELLING YOU GOODBYE. GOT IT?

Okay. Now. Anyway. On to addressing the elephant in the massive pile of elephants that might once have been a room.

I’m so so so sorry for being the shittiest excuse for a best friend on the face of the Earth. You’ve needed me and I haven’t been there for you when I should have been. I just left you high and dry for six months without even so much as a call. You have every right to be pissed at me. I know you thought parts of your letter were harsh, but I’d argue it wasn’t harsh enough. It shouldn’t have been on you to get in touch, with everything you’re going through right now. That’s all on me. I regret every single day of those months more than anything else in my life. Even more than asking out that cute boy in science class.

Chloe managed a full laugh this time. She’d never let Max live down how flustered she’d gotten when that happened, back in third grade. The happy memory was exactly what she needed in the midst of the heavier shit.

Let me preface this next part by saying that there is NO EXCUSE for me neglecting you like that. I’m going to try to explain what shitty brainflows of mine led to that, even though it’s NO EXCUSE. Full responsibility is still on me, I have NO EXCUSE.

Losing William… it was hard on me too. It still is now. With how much time we spent at your house instead of mine, how amazing he always was at encouraging us and keeping us in line while still allowing us our freedom to explore and be ourselves… He was like a second father to me, Chloe. I still have no idea how to process that. I still cry myself to sleep thinking about him. And if it’s like that for me, it must be ten times worse for you. You needed me through this now more than ever, and I failed you.

I guess… Subconsciously, I was still trying to deny that it happened. That back in Arcadia Bay, very far away from me, he was still alive and well. If I had to face your grief as well as mine, I wouldn’t be able to keep thinking that. It would become real. No more pretending.

Yes, that’s right. I didn’t call you doing your darkest hour of need because I wanted to play pretend. I’m the shittiest best friend ever, maybe the shittiest person ever. 

I think I stopped pretending a while ago, but by then we hadn’t talked in months, and at that point it was anxiety at getting in contact after so long. What could I say to you to make up for that? Would you even want to hear it? Did you hate me? All those thoughts and so many more kept me from getting up the strength to make the call like I should have. 

And now that I’m done explaining my shitty brain’s shitty reasoning, I again say that it’s all NO EXCUSE. What I did hurt you, and that’s unforgivable. It hurt me a lot too. It’s like you said, I’ve just been waiting. I don’t have any friends here in Seattle. You know me, always the introvert. I just go to school, do my homework, come home and lie down and cry. I barely even do photography these days. The selfie with this letter is the first picture I’ve taken in weeks.

I can’t express how happy I was when your letter came. I laughed and smiled for the first time in a long time. Even your harshest words were precious to me. Chloe Price, going to the trouble of handwriting a letter for me? All that passion in all your words. I could just feel how much you cared in every single line on those pages. I may have gotten a few more tear stains on it. Regretful tears mostly, but happy ones too.

You shouldn’t have had to do it, but thank you so much for sending that letter, Chloe. It gave me a much needed wake up call. This bullshit ends now. We’re Max and Chloe, and I’m going to start acting like it again.

I suppose I should apologize for the extra time you had to spend thinking I hated you while you waited for this letter to arrive, but after seeing all the effort and passion you put into yours, I just had to return the favor. It may be sentimental hipster bullshit, but I do believe there’s something special in words written by someone’s hand. They say so much more than spoken words can ever hope to. 

So let me make the most of it by saying what I would be too chickenshit to say out loud. Chloe, you’re a light in my life that I don’t know how to see without. I’ve missed you every single hour since I had to move away. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime, and I would do anything for you. I swear to you now, I’ll never let you down like that again. The Arcadia Bay pirates WILL sail together again, someday. Until then, we’re going to keep in touch in every way that we can. 

As soon as you’re done reading this letter, I want you to call me. Or, whenever you’re ready to, I suppose. Maybe you’re still a bit too pissed at how long I made you wait for a reply. If you are, please, call me and yell at me for it. I can take it, I deserve it. Or wait until I’ve had to wait just as long as you did, if it’ll make us even. I know I know, asking you to be the one to call is a real dick move after you sent the first letter, but it’s the only way I can be sure you’ve gotten this. If you haven’t called by the end of the month, I’m calling you. I NEED to hear your voice again. 

Once that first call is made, there’s nothing stopping us. We can talk each others’ ears off until our mothers get sick of listening to it. But… this is presumptuous as hell of me after the bullshit I’ve pulled and what you’re going through right now… Can you still write a reply to this letter and send it to me? Like I said, there’s something special about having your written words in my hand. I hope you get what I mean. I’ll send a reply back, with more pictures if you want them! Hopefully some happier looking ones.

And now this has turned into a full novella, and I see what you mean about the hand cramps. I have so much more I’d like to say, but there’s not enough paper in the world. The rest will just have to wait for our phone call. I’m literally counting down the minutes until I can talk to you again. I really hope that’s soon. Nothing would make me happier.

Once more, for the people in the back: I’m so fucking sorry. Never again, I promise. We’re Max and Chloe forever. Can’t wait to hear from you.

Your (definitely still) best friend,

Max

Chloe was sobbing again. This time, they were happy tears.

She wasn’t religious, but thank god. Max didn’t hate her. Max wanted her back. The only thing keeping them apart those months had been a mixture of grief, anxiety, and stupidity. Not anymore. Max wanted her back. She hugged Max’s letter to her chest and cried on her bedroom floor, overcome with such overwhelming relief that she had no other way to express it. 

There’s a much better way to express it: to HER you dumbass!

She scrambled to her feet, pausing only to carefully lay the pages and the photo on her desk, then bolted for the door. She took the stairs down three at a time, nearly crashing into the wall next to the front door. Joyce said something from the kitchen that Chloe ignored as she dashed to the phone. She swore as she dialed the number incorrectly and had to start again. When she finally hit dial and put the phone to her ear, it was shaking against her head.

The seconds of ringing were agonizing. When they finally ended and a voice greeted her that wasn’t Max’s, she nearly swore again. 

“Caulfield residence,” a man’s voice said.

“Hey, Ryan,” Chloe said softly, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. “It’s Chloe. Is Max around?”

“Good to hear from you, Chloe,” Ryan said, sounding much more upbeat. “She’s been waiting. Hold on.”

She could hear his voice faintly yelling for Max. Barely a few seconds later, there was a commotion on the other end of the line, followed by distinct heavy breathing.

“Chloe?”

She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. “Max…”

“You called,” Max said as if she didn’t believe it.

“Of course I did, you idiot,” Chloe chuckled. “You told me to.”

“Chloe, I’m so, so sorry, I was an idiot, and a terrible friend, I swear I’m never going to—”

“Shut up, just shut up,” Chloe snapped, to which Max obeyed. “You already said all that in your letter, okay? You don’t need to say it anymore. I forgive you. Completely.”

“O-Okay… It’s… really good to hear your voice again, Chloe.”

“Yeah, yours too,” Chloe said, trying not to make her next round of tears audible. You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice again. Not even written words could express that.

Joyce peaked out from around the corner. She had a knowing smile on her face as she gave Chloe a thumbs up. Chloe gave a shaky one back. Chloe had her ray of light back again. Perhaps with that, she could be a ray of light for Joyce. Perhaps they could start to heal.

“Well, don’t just breath at me all night,” Chloe said in the characteristic snark she reserved for Max. “You already know what Arcadia Bay is like, but you’ve got six months worth of the Seattle experience to catch me up on! Start talking, Caulfield!”

“O-Of course!” Max said, a bit startled, but all too happy to start talking again. “Well, it’s probably not the experience you would have, introvert that I am, but there are some cool things…”

They talked like that for literal hours. Chloe didn’t bother keeping track of time. The smile never left her face as she listened to the tones of her best friend’s voice. She’d never take that sound for granted again. Max traded stories about Seattle, and Chloe in turn talked about the local drama Max had missed out on. They didn’t talk about anything heavy like Chloe’s dad yet. That could wait for another time, another call. Right now they were just happy to be together again, if only in an incomplete way.

They only stopped when Max’s parents forced her to hang up and go to bed. Their goodbye was prolonged, with many promises for another call the next day. When Chloe finally set down the handset, she was tired, but still beaming broadly. The void of the last six months didn’t seem quite so big anymore.

Tired as she was when she got back to her room, the first thing she did was start looking for more notebook paper… and some colored pencils.

Chapter Text

Dear Maximus,

You asked for it. Here it is. Another handwritten letter fresh off the desk of the illustrious Captain Price. Feel honoured by this missive, for I, the terror known across the Seven Seas, would only bring myself down to this archaic form of communication for your sake. I expect my due compensation, or I’ll be coming for your booty!

Haha I kid I kid. Except for the part about your booty, I’m still coming for that.

But yes, letters. I suppose this makes us pen pals as well as bestest friends now. What exactly does one write to their pen pal when they also talk on the phone a lot? Probably all the stuff we can’t talk about over the phone (Read: all the stuff we don’t want our parents to hear). You know what that means, hehehehe…

[A large, crude doodle of a penis follows.]

Oh yeah, by the way, don’t open these in front of your parents. Or leave them laying around for your parents to find. If you already did that, then — shit. Uh, hi Ryan, hi Vanessa! I’m totally not corrupting your daughter through the mail, I promise. Nothing but G-Rated convos to be found here. Please disregard the above coffee stain suspiciously shaped like an inappropriate body part.

Anyway, Max, if you’re still reading this and haven’t been banned from ever speaking to me again, there is other stuff I wanted to say that I probably won’t during however long it takes for this to get to you. I suppose that’s another advantage of letters over the phone. There’s some things that are… really hard to say out loud. Partly because I don’t wanna get sappy in front of Joyce, but also just cause like… I don’t know emotions are hard and shit. You get what I mean.

That call with you today (As in, the first call, which was today at time of writing) was probably the best thing that’s happened to me in months. Hearing your voice again was hella awesome. I think I nearly started crying. I know we talked for hours but it seriously didn’t feel like anywhere near long enough. Already I’m looking forward to tomorrow, because I know I’ll get to talk to you again. 

I know you’re beating yourself up about those six months again, and I’ll tell you again that I forgive you. Seriously. I’m just happy to have you back again. I do really wish you could be here, but this will have to do until we can see each other again. It’s already so much better than nothing. 

And in a weird way, those six months really drove home just how important you are to me, you know? It’s like, human nature I guess, to not really appreciate what you have until you lose it. I took all our adventures for granted because I thought they’d never end. Not going to be doing that anymore for sure. Going to cherish every bit of contact we have until we can get together again. 

Then we’ll go out and make new adventures! Maybe by then we’ll have cars, and we can drive somewhere away from Arcadia Bay or Seattle. We could go on a cross country road trip! There’d be so much interesting stuff we could go see for you to photograph. Maybe we can even pick up a cute hipster boy for you or something, haha.

Speaking of, I didn’t want to ask this over the phone in case your parents were listening (you’d be too chickenshit to say anything in front of them) but I want the scoop on your prospects in Seattle! Any cuties you’ve got your eye on? Tell me all about them. Well, okay, maybe not ALL about them. If you start gushing too much I might get jealous. I still reserve first dibs on that booty!

Anyway, I know this is shorter than my first epic rant but I think I need to call it a night. Joyce will probably kill me if she catches me still up. Besides, I need the sleep for class tomorrow… Yeah, I’m actually going to be on time for once. Damn you Caulfield. Already you’re being a positive influence on me again. Why can’t you just let me ruin my life in peace?

Good night Maximillian. Looking forward to your call tomorrow, and to your reply to this!

Your swashbuckling superior,

Captain Chloe Price

P.S. Send more selfies I miss your dorky face

P.P.S. I drew you my dick answer me

Dear Captain Chloe,

It is indeed my highest honor to receive a missive penned by the hand of one as illustrious as yourself. Your name has long struck fear in the hearts of even the most hardened sailors on the high seas. As compensation for your generosity, I hope that you’ll permit me to rejoin your crew as your most trustworthy First Mate. 

Though, I regret to inform you that even after seven months, I still possess no booty to speak of. Check back in a few more years.

Also: yes, we are officially pen pals now. And while yes, that does mean we get to talk about all the stuff we don’t want our parents to hear, god damn it Chloe I DID open that while my parents were in the room! They didn’t see your attempt at art, but if they had they might actually start confiscating your letters. I’d ask you to not, but I already know how that would go. Maybe just, make it a bit smaller next time? It’d be nice if I could actually read your letters wherever I want and not just in the safety of my room.

Alright fine, it did make me laugh. And blush a lot. But still.

Anyway, I know we’ve talked a bunch since you wrote the letter I’m replying to (huzzah for snail mail) but I also wanted to express how much that first call meant to me. Talking to you every day has been such a blessing. I completely get what you mean about taking the old times for granted. This isn’t the same as that — I’d still much rather be there with you — but this is so much better than not having each other at all.

And as people like to say, distance makes the heart grow fonder. When I actually do get to see you in person again, you are getting the biggest hug ever. Joyce will need a crowbar to pry us apart.

I know we talked about it some on the phone already since you first wrote it, but since this is a direct reply to that I feel compelled to bring it up again: I am all aboard on the idea of a cross country road trip with you! There are so many amazing places we could go, and you’re damn right I’d love to photograph all of it. I could do that myself, but it wouldn’t be nearly as fun without my captain. A lot of monuments and natural wonders would be improved by having you in the frame with them. Gonna have to give a hard veto to the boy idea though.

I’m astounded you even have to ask about boys. You know me, do I seem like the type that can go out and get a boyfriend? I can barely even make regular friends. There’s a couple people in my class that are nice enough to me - Kristen and Fernando are their names - but the dating front is still completely barren. Believe me, if anything changes (it won’t) you’ll be the first (and probably only) to know.

Also, I really don’t expect every letter to be as long as the first epic rants were. Some weeks we might just not have anything interesting to talk about that we can’t talk about on the phone. Sometimes we’re strapped for time or mental energy. I’m happy with literally anything I get from you. If you really want we could just swap postcards for a few weeks, just as long as we get to exchange actual letters again at some point.

On that note: thank you for agreeing to keep this up. I know I know, writing by hand is so old fashioned and barbaric and only a complete hipster like me would ever ask such a thing, but I truly do appreciate it. Every single way I get to talk to you is precious to me. I really like having your handwriting with me, being able to reread it as often as I want, especially when we can’t call for whatever reason. It’s like being sent small pieces of you in the mail.

That… sounded a lot less serial-killery in my head. Please don’t send actual pieces of yourself. I have no idea how I’d explain that to the police.

Oh! By the way, you’ll never guess what I found in one of my moving boxes! (Yes, I’m still unpacking seven months later, it was a hard time, bite me). My old eye patch and hat that we made, along with a bunch of our other stuff! I think I avoided unpacking that stuff on purpose, while I was still trying to avoid things like a jackass (I know I know, you forgave me, but I still feel guilty.) Now I’m going to make sure it’s all well taken care of. 

Anyway, I included a selfie with some of the stuff, as requested! I know you’re not one for photos, but you ought to send me something in return for it… Like, perhaps, one of your drawings that isn’t phallic? I really wish I had your talent for drawing, and I’d love some of your work to hang in my room! At least, some of your SFW work.

I suppose I’d better get to my homework now. Trigonometry, yay… Hope that whatever you’re currently doing is more fun than this! Counting down the minutes until I hear from you again.

Your loyal First Mate,

Max

P.S. Unsolicited dick pics aren’t the way to a woman’s heart

Dear First Mate Max,

I be glad to have ye aboard once again ye scurvy dog! The pirates of Arrrrrrcadia sail once more! Together we shall ravage these seas as no duo ever has before! But first, ye must tend to yer captain’s ship! Swab the poop deck!

And fear not your lack of booty, for it is the woman who makes the booty, and not the other way ‘round. Therefore, yours is still on my “To Plunder” checklist, just ahead of Joyce’s bacon.

I’m disappointed to hear that you don’t appreciate my talent for biology. Really, aren’t best friends supposed to encourage each other? But then again, when I think back on it, that sketch was rather crude wasn’t it? How silly of me. Of course your delicate sensibilities would be offended by such a thing. Here, let me make it right…

[A small but very detailed sketch of a penis is drawn in the right margin.]

Much better. I even made it smaller, since you apparently can’t handle them big. Don’t worry, no judgement. Your secrets are safe with me sista.

On a more serious note (not that the above isn’t very serious), holy shit that selfie! I’d forgotten how adorkable you look in those pirate getups. Long Max Silver walks a very delicate line between cute and badass. That photo is going up on the nightstand next to my bed, FYI. I think I’ll sleep much better with that fierce cutie watching over me.

Don’t even get me started on the rest of the stuff! Did you really keep all of those old comic books we made? I mean, I still have all of mine, but I’d always figured I was the weird one for hanging onto them. I keep expecting Joyce to do a spring cleaning of my shit and throw them all out. Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen. They’ll be worth some serious cash once you become a world famous photographer!

As for your payment request for selfies… Harumph. Fiiiiiiiine. I guess I can draw you something that’s not phallic… But if I do I demand photo proof that you hung it up somewhere! My art deserves to be prominently on display where the whole world can see it. Including the phalluses, but baby steps. We’ll get you warmed up to them eventually. 

Speaking of phalluses: god damn it don’t you dare try to tell me that Max Caulfield couldn’t land herself a fine boyfriend without even trying. If you came out from behind your camera every once in a while, you might see them all scrambling over each other for your attention. No one can resist hipster freckles. Not that any of them are good enough for you, but you may as well weigh your options. 

Tell me more about this Fernando guy. Is he cute? Probably not as cute as me. How’s his taste in music? Probably shittier than mine. Then again, everyone’s is. Except yours. Yours has its own unique, dorky charm.

On second thought, maybe don’t tell me about him. I get protective. No, wait, yes, do tell me. Anyone dating you has to get the Chloe Price seal of approval. Currently only one person has it (hint: it’s me) and it’s a harsh process. Only the best for my Maxipad!

And on the subject of guys: ugh, I have to rant about this for a minute. Mom’s been awfully chatty lately with this random dude she met one day at the diner. I didn’t bother to learn his name but dear lord he just seems like such a tool. He’s got this big derpy mustache and a fucking brush cut. I talked to him once and I already don’t like him. He tried to ORDER me to grab him his coffee from mom! Who the fuck does that?  Pretty sure he’s ex-military or something, only they walk like they have a stick THAT big up their ass. 

I’m pretty sure it hasn’t turned into anything yet (at least I fucking hope not) but it still really pisses me off. I mean, dad practically JUST fucking died, it hasn’t even been a year, and already she’s grabbing for any old tool that sweet talks her at the diner? I get that she’s having a really hard time, but come the fuck on! There’s better ways to cope.

Granted, I guess I don’t really make it easy for her. I’ve been better about going to class since we started talking again, but my grades are still slipping and I haven’t exactly been very patient with her at home. I snap at her a lot, I complain when she asks me to do something. Even bought a bit of weed just to spite her. This guy Justin got me a hookup. It actually does help calm me down a bit. It’s really nice to just kinda… let everything drift away for a little while.

I can already hear your scolding about gateway drugs and whatnot. You always did hold me back from the stupidest of my ideas. As much as talking to you again is helping, school still sucks and I still spend a lot of time thinking about dad. Sadly I can’t talk to you all the time (you’d probably get sick of me anyway) and I need something to take the edge off. But please don’t worry too much okay? It’s just a bit of weed, and I, Chloe Elizabeth Price, solemnly swear to you that I’ll never try anything harder than that. I swear it on me peg leg and captain’s hat.

Welp, that’s enough heavy shit for one letter. I should really get to work on that drawing for you. I’m sure you’ll love it! Can’t wait to talk to you later.

Your nautical navigator,

Captain Chloe Elizabeth Price II

P.S. What about unsolicited boob pics instead

Dear Chloe,

How did I know there would be another drawing like that? How on earth could I have guessed? It’s a mystery to everyone. Very mysterious. Perhaps I can tell the future. Here, let me try now: I predict that the next time I see you, I’m going to smack you. Only time may tell if this prophecy comes to pass, but I have a very good feeling about it.

What I have a much worse feeling about is literally ANYTHING to do with boys. You should know this even better than I do, you saw what happened in third grade. And damn it, Fernando is just a FRIEND. I mean, I guess he’s a little cute, but there’s zero chemistry there, I promise. I’d have an easier time dating Kristen than him. 

In actually realistic news on that front: I guess Kristen and Fernando and I are friends now? They sat with me at lunch the other day. They asked about my hometown, and I honestly thought I’d scare them off with how much I talked about you, but somehow I didn’t. We’re all going to a pizza place after school tomorrow. 

I’d tell you all about them, but I still know so little about them. I’ve been a bit more outgoing since we started talking again, but I still find it hard to ask people personal questions. Baby steps, I suppose. How long did it take for you and I to really connect with each other when we met?

Oh, right. Like a single afternoon. Nothing like that up here, so absolutely no reason to get jealous or think I’m gonna replace you. Yes, I know that’s where your mind was going. Let me assure you, Chloe Price, you are quite irreplaceable.

Which is why even though you practically baited me into nagging you, I’m still going to do it anyway. I really don’t mind weed (Fernando does it, it seems fine if you keep it reasonable) but please please PLEASE be careful with it. Especially with getting it, I know dealers can be super sketchy. And even more especially with getting caught. I don’t want to address these letters to a prison or something. I can’t and won’t try to dictate how you live, but I do very much prefer that you continue living, so I’ll hold you to your promise of no harder drugs.

As far as the Joyce-guy thing goes… I’m not really sure what to say. That really does suck. William was amazing, and practically anyone else is gonna be a downgrade. It does seem really soon to me too, but… Maybe this is what she needs to move on? You know, with an actually decent guy at least. Is there a chance your first impression of him could’ve been bad? The whole ORDER thing is super sketch, but maybe he just came back from deployment and is still getting adjusted or something?

Sorry, I don’t mean to downplay how shitty this is for you. Your feelings about it are completely valid, and I hear you. I’m just trying to play the optimist here, for better or worse. Maybe you’re completely right and the dude is a raging asshole. You might know for sure as I write this, or by the time it gets to you (super speedy snail mail). If that does turn out to be the case, I retract all my previous statements. If it does seem like it will become a problem, maybe you could try talking to Joyce about it? I know that wouldn’t be fun, but any relationship of hers will involve you, so you need to speak your mind.

Oh, look at me, telling Chloe Price to speak her mind. May as well tell the sun to keep shining. What do you even need me for?

On a happier note: HOLY SHIT CHLOE! This sketch is amazeballs! Like… wowsers! I love all the detailing in the wings and the body, and the shading is so vibrant. Seriously, this has to be the best butterfly drawing I’ve ever seen. At first glance it looks like it could be a photograph. This is hanging right above my desk, so it can inspire me while I work.

Seriously Chloe, you have crazy talent. I know things have been really shitty for you lately, and I completely get your grades slipping. That’s okay. You’re healing. It might take a long while, but you’ll be okay again, and when you are, you’ll do amazing things. People tend to have talent for either the arts or the sciences, but rarely do they have both! You can go anywhere you want to go. 

And I’m really excited to come along for the ride. I’ll love being the one to take your photo for the cover of some science or art magazine. Or maybe both, if you’re feeling ambitious!

In a way though, this drawing does make me a little sad. It reminds me of the days we spent drawing all those comic books together (Of course I kept all of them!). If you flip back through them you can really tell which parts I drew by how much crappier they are. But then again, I suppose that’s part of the charm, the two of us working together to make something! I’ll be sure to work on my drawing though, so that next time we see each other we can make a new comic without such an obvious gap in quality.

And speaking of that, we should really see if we can find a time soon for one of us to visit the other! I know you’d like to get out of Arcadia for a while, but I’d also love to see it again. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss the small town charm until I lived in a big city. So, whichever way we go, it’ll be fun! I’m going to try talking to my parents about it tomorrow (They’re asleep right now, I’m staying up past curfew to write you, what the hell are you doing to me). You should talk to Joyce and see what she says!

Hmm. Why I am writing to you about this? We can talk about this on the phone. I’m not willing to wait for snail mail to get a response on being able to see you again. Eh, fuck it. I still write these in pen, so it stays. Guess it becomes part of the official Max and Chloe Chronicles. One day all these letters will be in the books written about us. So, bear that in mind before you draw more penises.

Oh who am I kidding. That’ll just encourage you more.

I should really get to bed now, I have a test tomorrow (Only for you would I stay up late on a test night!) Hope your day tomorrow isn’t quite as shitty.

Your adorkable shipmate,

Max

P.S. No unsolicited any body part dang it

P.P.S. Good to see you earned your own seal of approval, when’s our first date

P.P.P.S. I expect another drawing in return for this selfie

P.P.P.P.S. Okay dang it actually sleeping now

P.P.P.P.P.S. You’re adorkable too and I could never get sick of you

Chapter Text

Dear Mrs. Dr. Professor Price, 

Oh my, I had no idea that Hipster was a contagious condition. Give it to me straight doc, how long do I have? How can we contain it? We have to stop it before--  

Oh no, it’s too late! You're already listening to my music! Soon you’ll be using polaroids and watching Final Fantasy: Spirits Within! Noooooooooo! 

Seriously, you’re a dork. Listening to Syd Matters won’t kill you. I listen to all of your rock stuff, and I quite like some of it! The playlist may be a tonal disaster, but it’s super great being able to work on something with you again! Well, you know, work on something other than your bizarre fixation with rude sketches. Seriously, is that position even physically possible? 

On second thought, don’t answer that. 

So! I promised you pictures from our trip to the Space Needle, and here they are! I’m quite proud of most of these shots (all the ones without me in them specifically). I managed to get up there during the golden hour, which made me much more excited than I’d care to admit. For a non-photography nerd like yourself, the golden hour is like this time around sunset where everything is bathed in golden hues. With all the contrast against the shadows of the skyline, and reflections on the water in the distance, it really pulls together the compositions of each shot so... 

Okay I can practically feel your eyes glazing over her from here. Basically, it made everything really pretty. I hope I was able to capture some of that. I really wish you’d been here to share it with me instead, but this will have to do. 

Oh, and my parents made me include a picture of them. They say hi! You probably won’t recognize my dad, he started working on this ridiculous lumberjack beard right after we moved. Mom keeps trying to convince him to shave it, but so far he hasn’t budged. It’s actually kind of cute watching them bicker about it and make up right afterwards. I hope when I’m old (sorry mom, sorry dad!) I can have a marriage like that. 

Before you ask AGAIN, no, no prospects for that have popped up. Behold the field in which I grow my romantic life. Look upon it, and see that it is barren. 

And for god’s sake, no, I don’t need an appointment with “The Love Doctor.” Seriously, how many guys have YOU dated? The running score is currently 0-0 by my count. The spectators of this game must be terribly bored. Tell you what, if we’re still scoreless when the clock runs out, let’s just date each other. That way we get SOME points at least! 

I’m sorry you have to put up with David so much. I’d honestly hoped for your sake that wouldn’t become an official thing. It had seemed like long enough since you first wrote about him... But, if he’s as much of a douche as you describe, hopefully it won’t last. Joyce is too smart a woman to settle for a dude like that.  

I know your feelings on that subject are still a bit sore (or a lot), but I can appreciate Joyce trying to move on in whatever way she can, you know? This definitely isn’t the best way, and she’ll realize that at some point, but loss really screws with you. I still haven’t moved on yet either. I know you feel the same. So yeah, David is a royal pain in the ass, but please don’t take it out on Joyce too much, okay? People do the best they can with what they’re given, and Joyce was given more grief than anybody can process. Try to be patient with her, for me? I hate the idea of you two fighting. You both mean a lot to me. 

Anyway, heavy stuff done for one letter. Well, almost. Next part is kinda serious, but in a good way. Now, I really don’t know how to word this so it doesn’t seem super patronizing or condescending in text. I probably can’t, so you’ll have to settle for my pinky promise that I don’t mean to be patronizing. 

I’m really, REALLY proud of you for getting back into a routine of attending class every day. You’ve been dragged through the dirt over the last year, and you’ve been so strong through it all. I know firsthand how hard it can be to make yourself do the little things everyone else takes for granted. You’re a goddamn badass, Chloe Price. And to be honest, it’s really been inspiring to me. If you can push through, I can too.

I’ve let myself peek out of my shell a bit more recently, thanks to you. Kristen and Fernando invited me to this birthday party thing one of their other friends was throwing while their parents were out of town. I didn’t drink any of the stuff there (yeah yeah I know, boring ass Caulfield) but I actually managed to make myself TALK to some people there. A couple of Kristen’s other friends seemed to like me? Imagine that, me with more than three friends!

Every time I talked to someone new, I could picture what you’d say to them, how you’d react to what they said, what you’d say about them after they were gone. The more friends I make here, the more I’m reminded of how much I miss you, how no amount of other friends could hope to replace you. I wish you were here with me. Or that I was in Arcadia Bay with you. Does it make me a bad friend if I’d ditch all my new friends here without a second thought to come back to Arcadia Bay? Probably, but I don’t think I’d feel any guilt about it. Probably shouldn’t mention that to Kristen and Fernando, haha.

Hard to believe it’s been over a year since I last saw you. I hope one of us will get to visit the other soon (my parents are being evasive about it for some reason). Either way, it’s been way too long since I last saw your face.

You always demand selfies from me, so it’s only fair that I can do it too! I demand a selfie of the one, the only, the lovely Chloe Elizabeth Price. WITH HER CLOTHES ON. Damn it, the fact that I feel the need to specify that. 

Actually, I want multiple selfies! I want regular shots of you! And you in our old pirate costumes! And you doing your homework! And you eating breakfast! I want photos of Chloe doing Chloe things! And they all better have flawless shot composition and lighting, or you’ll be getting another four hour photography lesson from Professor Caulfield!

(I’m kidding. I could never do that to you. Unless you want me to. I mean, I’d love to. But only if you asked for it. Sorry. I love photography. In case you didn’t know.)

But yes. Chloe selfies, or no more Max selfies. I swear it on my camera.

Yikes, time for class. Gotta go. Talk to you soon!

Your photogenic phriend,

Max

P.S. Sorry if this one is hard to read, I wrote most of it on the bus this morning

Dear Maxitron,

You drive a very hard bargain, Caulfield. You know I have a weakness for cute hipster selfies, and you threaten to cut me off? Devious of you. I suppose I have no choice but to comply… for now. Perhaps I’ll have to get my Max photos from somebody else. Unrelated, what’s Kristen’s phone number?

By the way, no need to play coy, Max. I know how much you’d like to see this rockin bod. Too bad for you, you haven’t saved up enough Chloe Points for a nude anyway. You can get more if you keep sending cute selfies, WHEN YOU’RE NOT HOLDING THEM HOSTAGE THAT IS.

But um, more seriously. I kinda felt… super self-conscious about taking these? Yes, I admit that I, Chloe Price, was self-conscious about some stupid pictures. They’re definitely nowhere near as good as yours (bring on the 4 hour lecture!). You spoil me with such great shots all the time, and I just give you this crap. I just don’t have the same eye for this kind of thing as you. Please, o great goddess of the camera, take pity upon an amateur’s poor attempts at art.

That, and, uh. Well, as you can probably see in the pictures, I cut my hair recently. Not really sure why. Maybe because dad always liked it long, and helped me braid it, and would brush it for me, and would hold it back whenever I got sick, and it feels wrong to do any of those things without him? Okay, fine, I know why. I suppose it’s not healthy to just get rid of things that remind me of him, but I couldn’t take the reminder every single morning when I had to deal with it after the shower. It’s already helped some to have it be so short, so I count that as a win.

Besides, I kinda like the short look on me. Makes me feel a bit more badass.

On that note: thank you, Max. It might have sounded patronizing from somebody else, but not from you. I know you get what it’s like, how hard it is to keep doing even the simplest things when you’d much rather not do anything. You’re like the only person other than Joyce who’s been willing to be patient with me, and even her patience only goes so far. So hearing you say you’re proud is honestly one of the best things I could hear right now.

You’ve been inspiring me to do better too. Gotta keep my life together so nothing’s holding us back when we get back together again! It probably goes without saying, but I’d drop everything to come be in Seattle with you, too. I’m counting down the days until I get to see you (which is hard, cause I’m not sure when that is, but I really hope it’s soon) and thinking of everything we’ll do when when it comes. 

No lie, I kinda bought a big atlas of all the states and started planning possible road trip routes for us? I mean, we’re still years off from that for sure, but it pays to be prepared, right? I’m enclosing some pics of a couple different maps I doodled on for your opinions. You probably know some good photo ops I may have missed along the route. Let me know where and I’ll add them to The Plan!

I appreciate your thoughts on the whole David thing, by the way. I can’t exactly be unbiased, so it’s nice to have an outside perspective to keep me somewhat grounded about it. He’s a huge prick, but in a weird way… I guess I can see where mom’s coming from? He seems… fine, I guess, when he thinks I’m not around? I sometimes hear him talking to mom from upstairs and it’s almost like he’s a different person. Honestly not sure if that makes it better or worse. Eventually he might start being just as much of a hard ass to her as he is to me. So yeah, still hate his guts, but trying not to take it out on Joyce too much. I think she’s noticed, and she seems a bit happier lately? So, that’s a plus at least.

On the topic of love: I could go into yet another epic rant about how Max Fucking Caulfield would be the hottest catch in Seattle, but I suspect you’re getting somewhat tired of hearing it. Not that I’m tired of saying it. Instead I’d like to focus on this intriguing idea you put forth. When exactly does this metaphorical dating game clock run out? Is it soon? It should be soon. Otherwise I may have to start covertly sabotaging your dating prospects. I called dibs on that booty if you’ll remember!

Besides, you can’t hold my lack of dates against me, cause I don’t want a boyfriend. Too much work. You’re cuter than all the boys anyway.

Semi-relatedly: you remember how a few months ago we were writing about those old comics we used to make together? I dug mine back out and read through them all again after that to reminisce about how cute Super Max was, and I had the best idea ever. You’d talked about how much you missed working on them together, and I thought, hey, why can’t we still do that? Sorry it took so long for me to follow through on that, but I needed the time to think of some ideas, and to actually start on it. Also, going to make a point to not mention this to you on the phone, since I want it to be a sort of surprise.

Attached with the mediocre photos of yours truly, you’ll find the first couple panels of the latest issue of The Adventures of Super Max and Super Chloe: Partners in Crime! I think I gave you a pretty good starting prompt, so fill in the next couple of panels then send it back! Don’t at all worry about trying to match my style (remember, it’s the blend of our styles working together that makes it great) and don’t worry about sending it back right away with your next letter. If you need some time to think or work on it, no rush! 

Can’t wait to start working on something like this with you again, even if it’s not the same as doing it together in person. Well, something other than our playlist, that is, which is officially a lost cause. Look, I admit some of your indie crap is good, but you Miss Caulfield have a terminal case of hipster. It really is a tonal disaster. Putting it on shuffle feels like trying to watch Blade Runner where every couple minutes it’s interrupted by a segment of Portlandia. 

Who am I kidding, you’d probably like Blade Runner more if that were the case.

Anyway, gotta do Chemistry homework now. Gonna get my grades back up for you! Hope you’re up to something more fun (or nerdy), can’t wait to hear from you.

Your voluptuous voyager,

Lady Admiral Captain Dr. Professor Chloe Elizabeth Price Sr. Esquire LXIX

P.S. Why ride the bus when you could ride me instead

Chapter Text

...and you wouldn’t even believe the nerve of this guy. Talking to my mom like that, right in front of all the other customers! I was so tempted to punch him right in the fucking face. I almost did, I even stood up to walk over to him. But I could practically hear you next to me, like old times, trying to calm me down, telling me not to get into trouble. I could picture how disappointed your next letter would be, hearing about whatever dumb trouble I got into for assaulting some random asshole. I sat back down and Joyce threw the guy out. Crisis averted.

So yeah, point being, even when you’re not here you’re like 90% of my impulse control. Thanks for that.

Anyway, you really threw a twist at me with the start of page 3. Of all the things for us to encounter, I wasn’t expecting radioactive alien spiders, haha. Oh but have no fear, for Super Chloe has a plan to deal with them! (I’m actually not all that confident about where I went with it, if you think it’s stupid feel free to retcon it).

Gonna do some more work on that sketch I promised you now. I know you’re excited, but be patient! You’ll get it once I’m confident it’s as good as you deserve (well, you deserve perfection, but I’ll do my best). Goes without saying, but can’t wait to hear from you.

Your bodacious buccaneer,

Captain Bluebeard

Max grinned to herself like an idiot as she read through Chloe’s latest letter for what must’ve been the tenth time that day. Already the page was getting slightly crumpled from her unfolding and refolding it so many times during the brief breaks between classes. She’d have to restrain herself from doing it much more until she could get it back home to store it safely with the others.

“Oh man, is that one of the infamous Chloe letters?” a voice said from behind her. Max folded the pages back up and spun around, but it was just Fernando approaching. Aside from the two of them, there weren’t many other students in the spacious study hall with them, save a group of jocks laughing in one corner and a couple bickering in the other.

“Yeah. It just arrived this morning,” Max said, carefully slipping the letter back in its envelope and tucking it in the front pouch of her messenger bag. The pages of her and Chloe’s joint comic were still on the table in front of her, but she didn’t move to put them away just yet, as she was hoping to get some more work done on her next panels before study hall ended.

“Dude, relax,” Fernando said with a reassuring smile. “I’m not gonna try to sneak a read or anything.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Just… reflex, I guess. Those letters are personal.”

“It’s cool, I get it.” He leaned against her table but didn’t take a seat. “I’ll admit though, I’m a bit curious what she says to get you so giddy.”

“ Giddy? I’m not giddy!”

Fernando snorted. “Dude, have you seen yourself? I can always tell when it’s letter day cause you walk around with this big grin plastered on your face all day. You actually talk to people, willingly. It’s like… who are you and what have you done with Max the introvert?”

Max blinked. Of course getting Chloe’s letters made for an amazing day, but was she really that obvious? “It’s… I just like hearing from her, okay? Mail takes a while, so it’s not often I get one of these.”

Fernando raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you call her basically every night?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So you hear from her regularly already.”

“What’s your point?”

The look he gave her was odd. “You must really like her, huh?”

Max rolled her eyes. “What a keen observation. She’s only been my best friend since basically forever.”

“Is that it?”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Fernando seemed like he was going to say something else, then thought better of it. He shrugged and smiled again. “Ah, never mind. Just glad you’re happy is all. Anyway, Kristen and I are gonna hit up Randy’s later tonight, you in?”

Max debated pressing him further on his exact meaning, but decided to let it drop. Probably nothing anyway. “I don’t know. I’ve gotta at least start on a reply to Chloe, and call her earlier than usual since I’m going to a movie with my parents tonight, and I was hoping to get some shots during the Golden Hour—”

“Aw come on, Max. The Golden Hour is temporary. Randy’s pizza is forever. We can have you home before the movie.”

She was about to retort that pizza would last even shorter than the Golden Hour typically did. And yet, his logic somehow made sense. She had plenty of Golden Hour shots, would no doubt get plenty more. She hadn’t been out with her friends for a few days, and she’d promised Chloe she would socialize more. Besides, thinking about Randy’s pizza was making her mouth water… 

“Alright, fine, you convinced me,” she groaned, though she was smiling. 

Fernando fist pumped. “Yes! Tonight we enjoy our pizza to the max!”

Max groaned again, putting her face in her hands. “Why do I talk to you?”

“No idea!” Fernando said cheerfully as the bell rang. “Whelp, time for me to go die in gym now. Catch you later, Maximus!”

He’d already started for the door, so he missed the glare Max shot at him without thinking. Maximus was one of Chloe’s nicknames for her. Hearing it from someone else felt wrong. She’d have to tell him off for that later. 

She slung her messenger bag over her shoulder and picked up the comic pages. She went to stow them in her bag as she started for the door, but she paused to consider Chloe’s most recent additions again. Super Chloe’s plan to deal with the alien spiders really was unorthodox, to say the least. Max didn’t want to retcon anything of Chloe’s — that went against the whole spirit of this comic, them working to create something together, warts and all — but she was lost for what to add next. Perhaps she’d need to give it a few more hours to breathe, then she could—

Something big and heavy rammed into her from behind. She yelped as she lost her balance. Her hands instinctively released the comic pages to cradle her bag as she toppled to the floor. She landed with a grunt, mercifully on her side opposite the bag. The comic pages fluttered to the floor around her.

Groaning, she looked up and froze at the sight of the group of jocks from the corner. Though all of them were big and burly, the one that had just walked into her was the biggest; he had to be about a head taller than Max was. Though bumping into her didn’t seem to have fazed him in the slightest, he glared down at her like she’d just insulted his mother.

“Watch where you stand, nerd!” he growled. “Right in the middle of the fucking aisle, pay attention for fuck’s sake!”

“S-Sorry,” Max mumbled sheepishly. He was right, stupid of her to just stop walking in the middle of the space between tables. She started to push herself up.

“And what the hell are these?” the jock said, looking at the floor. Too late, Max realized he was staring at the pages of their comic. She lunged for them, but he was faster, snatching them up and bringing them close to his face. 

“Those are personal!” Max yelled, grabbing for them. “Give them back!”

The jock simply held them too high for her to reach and continued to read, laughing as he did. “‘The Adventures of Super Max and Super Chloe?’ Jesus, what kind of cringy bullshit is this?”

“Give them back!” Max surprised herself by trying to shove him. It was like trying to shove a brick wall. He snorted at her efforts.

“Alright fine, you can have them,” he chuckled. He started to lower the pages towards her, and she raised her hands for them.

Then he took them in both hands and tore them in half.

Max gave a choked cry as he took the halves and tore them further, then further still. He threw the pieces in her face, then shoved his way past her, laughing as he went. His friends followed behind him, jeering as they left.

Max stood rooted to the spot for another few seconds before falling to her knees. Tears spilled from her eyes as she hurriedly grabbed all the scraps of paper and tried in vain to piece them back together again. She could fix it if she got some tape, she could still save the comic, all of their hard work couldn’t just be gone, the art she created with Chloe couldn’t just be…

But it was. He’d done a thorough job of it. There were too many pieces. Even the ones she fit together were too mangled to make sense of their carefully laid out panels, their intricately small dialogue. No amount of tape would fix this. Even if it could, it’d be a ruined mockery of what it once was.

The second warning bell rang. Five minutes to her next class. With a choked curse directed at nothing in particular, she shoved the scraps in her bag and went for the door. People in the hallway noticed her tears and whispered, but she didn’t give a shit about what they thought. 

More important was what Chloe would think. God, how upset was she going to be? Would she be angry at Max? She’d have every right to be. If she hadn’t been standing in their way like a fucking idiot… It was her fault all of Chloe’s hard work had gone to waste. 

Would she want to do more comics with Max after this, knowing that Max couldn’t be trusted to keep them safe?

Those thoughts plagued her long after she restrained her tears, and she barely heard anything her teachers said for the rest of the day.

Chloe’s afternoon had been going well, all things considered. She’d gotten back a Chemistry test with a B- (still not quite her old average, but definitely still climbing out of her slump), been asked out on a date (which was a boost to her ego, even though she’d turned Eliot down; boy oh boy did he give her the creeps), and managed to make it through the whole day without being told off by a teacher for something (not that she hadn’t let some choice comments slip, she’d just been quieter about it). Sure, other people might take a lot of that for granted, but baby steps.

The important thing was that Max would be proud of her. Chloe couldn’t wait to tell her about it all on their call tonight.

She was now vegging out on the living room couch, fresh out of school clothes for a baggy hoodie and shorts, one hand in a bag of Cheetos and the other flipping through channels with the remote. Yet another sign of a great afternoon, when she could munch and relax for once. Those were becoming steadily more common as time went by and she found her groove with schoolwork again. She was resolved to enjoy them as much as she could when they came, even if it meant eating half her body weight in cheesy snacks.

Fate, however, didn’t want her relaxing today.

She heard the front door open, followed by the heavy thud of boots on the carpet. She instinctively tensed and scowled. Sure enough, the dumb brush cut and dumb mustache of one David Madsen made its way through the hall into the living room. Chloe pointedly looked back to the TV, barely paying attention to the channels she flipped past.

“Your mother’s not home yet?” he said in that stern ‘Respect mah authority’ voice he always used on her.

“Kathy’s running late,” Chloe said in the flattest, most neutral tone she could manage. “Mom’s covering the start of her shift. She’ll be another hour.”

David grunted. She really hoped he would leave after that, but he pulled his jacket off and draped it across one of the dining room chairs. “Don’t you have homework to be doing?”

Chloe had to bite back the sarcastic remark that came so easily to her lips, “Don’t you have a job to be finding?” She closed her eyes and sucked a deep breath in, trying to hold Max’s advice firmly in her mind.

Don’t give him a reason to be more of a douche than he already is… Reign it in, Chlo…

“Midterms this week. No homework to do.”

“Then shouldn’t you be studying?”

“Last test was this morning.”

“Your chores?”

Fuck. 

“Was gonna do them after my call with Max.”

“You drag those calls on way too long—”

“It’ll be short tonight,” she said through gritted teeth. “She’s going to a movie with her parents later.”

David paused, as though trying to think of something else to badger her about, then grudgingly sighed. “Alright, since your grades have been better lately. As soon as you’re off the phone though—”

She missed the rest of his sentence, screaming internally as she was. You’re not my fucking dad! Stop trying to be! She restrained herself from saying it, barely.

“Got it. Chores. Will do.”

That finally seemed to satisfy him. Unfortunately, he still didn’t leave. One of the dining room chairs scraped against the floor as he sat down, loudly unfolding a newspaper. Not that Chloe was listening to the TV anyway, but it still annoyed her to no end.

Well, so much for relaxing, Chloe thought with a long and heavy huff. Even the Cheetos had lost their luster. Perhaps she could still salvage it if she moved up to her room, but didn’t she have a right to relax in her own damn living room? Besides, she needed to wait for—

The phone had been ringing for about a second by the time Chloe was on her feet and bolting for it. David barked something at her she didn’t hear. She pulled the handset up to her ear, grinning broadly and trying not to sound as excited as she felt. God, Max would probably find it pathetic just how excited she was after how long they’d been doing this.

“Afternoon, Maxaroni,” Chloe managed in a mildly excited tone. Just the right amount for talking to your best friend. Your really cute, dorky best friend.

“...Hey, Chlo,” came the soft reply after a long moment.

Just like that, Chloe’s excitement evaporated, her face becoming serious. “Max? You okay?”

“...Yeah, I’m fine. Just… rough day at school. I got your letter, though.” It broke Chloe’s heart how Max tried and failed to sound upbeat about that.

“What happened at school?”

“Nothing, just… dumb jerks.”

Chloe became very serious. “Did someone hurt you?”

“What? No, no, I’m fine, really, pinky promise. What happened was my fault anyway…”

“How?”

“It’s… dumb, but… try not to hate me, okay?” Chloe could hear Max sniffling on the other end of the line, trying to hold it together. She was torn between worry for her friend and anger at whoever had made Max feel this way. What Chloe would give to be in Seattle right now, to hold Max close and tell her it would be okay… 

“Max,” Chloe said as softly yet firmly as she could. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Max and Chloe forever, right?”

“R-Right, but—”

“But nothing. I could never hate you, pinky promise. Talk to me, Max. Please.”

A long pause from the other end of the line. Chloe waited patiently, knowing Max needed time to gather her thoughts. If Max wasn’t going to tell her, she’d have tried to change the subject already. When you’d shared as many secrets as they had, talking through stuff like this became second nature.

“...Our comic is gone, Chloe,” Max whispered.

Chloe blinked. “What?”

“I-I had it out in study hall, and I was working on it,” Max started rambling, “and I got up and I went to put it away but I just stood there looking at it like an idiot, and I blocked this big dude who ran into me, so he took the pages and he ripped them up—”

“He did what?” Chloe growled, her hand clenching around the phone at the thought.

“God, it was so stupid of me!” Max mumbled, choking on her words. “I wasn’t paying attention, I’m so sorry, Chloe…”

Damn it. God damn it. She’d been scared this would happen as soon as she’d learned Max was moving. She’d always used to protect Max from bullies and comfort her afterwards. Knowing Max was still facing that kind of treatment where Chloe couldn’t reach made her feel so angry and helpless.

“Max,” Chloe managed, trying to get her seething rage at a faceless asshole she’d never meet in check. Curse him later. Help Max now. “Listen to me. It was not your fault.”

“I blocked the whole aisle standing there like an idiot—”

“And he could’ve seen you and moved,” Chloe retorted. “That was no reason to ruin something of yours. That guy is the asshole here, not you. It’s not your fault.”

“B-But—”

“But nothing. You remember what I used to tell you about bullies?”

Max sniffled. “Um… aim for the balls?”

Chloe almost managed a smirk. She was making jokes, a good sign. “Well, yes, but no. The other thing.”

“I… I don’t…”

“You don’t deserve it, no matter what they say. It is not your fault. I won’t let you believe that. You trust me, right?”

Another pause. “Yes… I trust you, Chloe. With my life.”

Chloe tried to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat at that. “Good. Now say it with me. It’s not your fault.” 

“It’s… not my fault…”

“Again, but mean it this time.”

“It’s not my fault.” Max took an audibly shaky breath. “That guy was a massive asshole…”

“Yes he was, and I’d give him a good kick to the gonads if I were there with you.”

“I know you would… Remember how the boys used to call you Nutcracker?”

Chloe laughed. “They still do around here. I’m not against spreading the name to Seattle though.”

Max chuckled, still sniffling. “Still, Chlo… I’m sorry about the comic, you worked so hard on it—”

“Hey, what did we just get done saying? You have nothing to be sorry for. And you worked just as hard on it. It was ours. Yeah, it’s a bummer, but you know what that means?”

“...What?”

“We get to start a fresh one! A blank slate, with none of that, erm… top-notch planning by Super Chloe mucking things up.”

“You’re right,” Max said, her voice noticeably perking up. “I guess that means waiting until your next letter to work on it, but—”

“Oh no no, Caulfield, I made the starting panels last time. This time, you get to decide the setting and prompt.”

“O-Oh, um… Sure! I can do that. I have a couple ideas I could use, I’ll have to pick one out…”

“Or better yet, draft them both up and send both! We could work on two comics at once!”

“Oooh, that would give us a backup in case another asshole happens!”

“Now that’s a good way to look at it!”

The knot in Chloe’s chest unraveled as the melancholy tone faded from Max’s voice. In no time they were chatting and joking like usual, talking about their days down to the most minute and pointless of details. Nothing was too boring to discuss if it was with Max. And today even the more mundane bits took on extra poignancy, considering how their talk had started. Chloe held onto every word, savoring the audible smile in Max’s voice.

All the things she’d give to see that smile in person again, to protect it against all the bullies the world could throw at her…

“Well, I’m sorry to cut this off early tonight, Chlo,” Max said after a long while, sounding genuinely remorseful. “I promised Fernando I’d get pizza with him and Kristen before the movie—”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, okay?” Chloe said, feeling thrilled that Max was being sociable, even if it did make her a little jealous. “I gotta do chores now anyway. Have a fun night, Maxitron!”

“Bye, Chloe! Talk to you tomorrow!”

Chloe huffed as she put the handset back on the receiver. Talking to Max always put her in a good mood, but today there was a dark cloud lingering above it. Max’s reaction to the bully’s treatment of her profoundly bothered Chloe. If Max could be so easily convinced that something like that was her fault…

“Max usually have a lot of bully trouble?”

It took Chloe a moment to realize that David had just spoken to her. She reflexively tensed, but the authoritative tone he usually used with her was absent. She rounded the corner to find him staring at the table, a strange look on his face.

“...Yeah,” Chloe said cautiously. “I used to keep them off her, but… now…”

David grunted. “I… had a good friend in the army like that. Scrawny guy, really good with tech. Some of the meatheads in our unit loved to give him grief. They’d break his gear, then he’d take the blame when our CO got mad.”

Chloe shifted uneasily on her feet. She’d known David was a vet, but he’d never spoken to her about his service before. Not that she’d ever cared to hear it, but there was something in his words now that resonated with her.

“Did you help him?” she found herself asking.

He grimaced. “I tried. Kept them away from him whenever I could, but I couldn’t be there all the time. And I could never make him stop taking the blame for what they did. I wasn’t as… patient about it as you. I think he appreciated it, though, since he kept wanting me for his patrol buddy. We didn’t part on the best of terms, but I’d still step in to help him if I could.”

He looked up at her, his expression as strange and unreadable as his voice. “You’re a good friend to Max, Chloe. She needs someone that can convince her she doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment. Keep working on that with her, will you?”

Holy shit. For once, David and Chloe agreed on something. The planets must’ve been aligning overhead. Despite her shock, she managed to say, “I will.”

David nodded. Then, he put his serious face back on and went back to reading the newspaper. She expected him to snap at her to get to the chores she’d promised, but no such reminder came, even as Chloe stood there for another minute in a daze.

Fucking— Did she and David just have a moment? 

If it HAD to happen, of course it would be over Max. Damn you, Caulfield. You’re getting some very strong words about this in my next letter… 

Still a bit shaken, Chloe moved to do the chores anyway. She’d already said she would do them, after all. Least she could do was stick to her word, even if it was her word to David. Just a one time thing, surely. He’d find some tiny thing to be a dick about soon, and all would be normal with the world. 

And yet, despite its source, Chloe couldn’t help feeling proud to be called a good friend to Max. However uncertain the rest of her future felt at times, that was one thing she was certain she would always want to be.

Fernando: Hey weird question

Kristen: Weird answer

Fernando: Okay so

Fernando: Let me know if this seems a bit out there, but

Fernando: Do you think Max could have a thing for her friend Chloe?

Kristen: …

Kristen: ...are you serious?

Fernando: I seriously think it could be possible, hear me out

Kristen: No, I mean

Kristen: Are you seriously just now figuring this out

Fernando: Wait what

Kristen: Dude it’s been super obvious

Kristen: Like basically the whole time we’ve known her

Fernando: It has???

Kristen: Fern

Kristen: She has a WALL dedicated to Chloe’s selfies and drawings

Kristen: Right above her bed

Fernando: ...hmm

Fernando: You know when you put it like that

Kristen: What the hell did you think it meant??

Fernando: Idk some kind of hipster feng shui thing??

Kristen: You’re an idiot

Fernando: I never claimed not to be

Chapter Text

Dear Max, 

Surprise! You get an extra letter from me this month. I couldn’t wait for your next reply. There’s some important stuff I’ve gotta say that I didn’t get to over the phone (David was in the room). Sorry but this one’s gonna be all serious stuff.  

I could rant about the asshole who tore up our comic, but he doesn’t deserve my attention. I’m more worried about you and how you reacted to it. Not that I would’ve reacted well (I’d probably try to deck him in the nuts) but your thought process behind it worries me, enough that I decided to sit my ass down and write this instead of taking a hit or going skating. 

It scares me a lot that when someone did something bad to you, your first thought was to blame yourself. Not only that, but you seemed to think I would hate you for it. I hope I don’t have to explain why that bothers me so much, but I will anyway just to drive the point through your pretty head. 

First off: I don’t think it’s physically possible for me to ever, EVER hate you, Max. I admit that part of me wanted to during the months we didn’t talk, but even then, I never could. If I couldn’t hate you for that, then how the hell could I hate you for something that wasn’t even your fault? And even if it had been, over something so small? I love our comics, but I love our friendship a hell of a lot more. I love YOU a hell of a lot more.  

And I’ll be honest, it bothers me that you think I COULD hate you so easily. I get where you’re coming from – anxiety brain is a bitch – but it still makes me feel... I don’t know, like I’m not doing enough to show you how much I care? Granted, I know I’ve sometimes wondered how you don’t hate me, even though I know you couldn’t. So, let’s try to work on that together, okay? I don’t ever want you to doubt my friendship, and I don’t ever want to doubt yours. 

Second: victim blaming yourself. Fucking hell, I REALLY hope I don’t have to explain why this scares me. This kind of thinking is so, so harmful to you, even on “small” things like this dumb bully. If something more serious happened, like someone hurt you or... God even thinking about it makes me sick. Like, legit no joke, I have the trash can next to me as I write this. 

I know I drilled this into your head over the phone, but it bears so much more repetition. What happened was NOT YOUR FAULT, and you absolutely DID NOT DESERVE IT. I don’t care that you stopped in the aisle, fucking everyone does that. Taking something you treasured and destroying it was inexcusable. Be angry at him, not at yourself.  

And please please please, no matter what happens or whose fault it is, TALK TO ME ABOUT IT. If you think it’s your fault, and that makes you try to hide it... Jesus, Max, I hate thinking about all the ways people could take advantage of you. You talked to me today, but only after I prodded it out of you. You said you trust me with your life, right? So come to me straight away, and whatever it is, I’ll stand by you. We’re Max and Chloe forever, even when we’re apart. 

I wish I could be there to protect you from this sort of thing. The sad truth is that I can’t. You couldn’t live your life with me constantly looming over your shoulder. I want you to be able to stand up for yourself, to value yourself the way I do, Max: as someone worth all the good the world has to offer. 

I really wish I could hug you right now. I mean, I wish that basically all the time, but right now more than usual. You're my best friend, and I care so so much about you. I’ve been taking better care of myself with your help, but you need to do the same. Like everything else, I’ll help you through it.  

Anyway, that’s a wrap on Chloe’s Epic Spontaneous Rant. Stay tuned for next’s week rant on “Why Max Caulfield is the fucking cutest.” Since this isn’t one of our standard letters, don’t feel the need to reply to this one. I do want you to promise you’ll try to be kinder to yourself, though. I’m throwing in a couple of treats to help you get started. 

You mean more to me than I can say, Max. Counting down to the next time I hear from you. 

Your best friend, 

Chloe 

P.S. Just so this letter isn’t 100% serious: tits vagina bitch ass motherfucker sex joke. 

[Attached to the envelope are three packets of Max’s favorite brand of tea. Enclosed alongside the letter is a single polaroid: one of Max’s Golden Hour selfies, with the caption “This girl matters” scrawled in the bottom margin.] 

Dear Chloe, 

I know you said I didn’t have to reply. Well, too bad, I’m gonna do it anyway. This is what you get for encouraging my rebellious side. 

I could spend this entire letter apologizing for all the crap you talked about. I could say sorry for making you worry, sorry for bothering you with my dumb bullshit, sorry for making you feel like you constantly have to be taking care of me. I could, but I won’t. I already know what you’d say to all of it. So, as much as I want to, I won’t apologize for any of that. 

Instead, I’m going to say thank you, Chloe. Thank you for worrying about me when I was down and needed a lift. Thank you for listening to all of my dumb bullshit when I needed someone to talk to. Thank you for always being there to help me, even when we’re apart. Thank you for being the best friend ever and going out of your way to write that letter. You even remembered my favorite kind of tea! You don’t have to worry about not showing me enough that you care. You’ve done that a thousand times over in so many little ways. 

You know what it’s like, living with Anxiety Brain. It constantly needles you about the smallest of things. Even when you logically know something’s not true, something’s not your fault, it’ll convince you otherwise. I know you could never hate me, Chloe, but the possibility scared me so much that it was all I could focus on. It’s only able to do that because I treasure our friendship so much. It’s probably the most painful lie my brain could tell. 

The same kinds of lies lead to me thinking that everything bad MUST be my fault. Logically I know that’s not true, but there’s always this little voice in the back of my head, whispering about what a screw up I am. I’ve tried to fight it on my own, but you know how well that turned out. I’d have kept spiraling in that direction forever without you to pull me back to reality. 

So, instead of apologizing like I want to, I’m going to promise you I’ll do better. I’m going to come to you with things like this and trust that you’ll help me through them. I’m going to hang that picture you sent next to all my pictures of you, to remind me how you care. I’m... going to bite the bullet and talk to my parents about professional help for my anxiety, in whatever form that takes. I’ll do better, little by little. 

None of this would be possible for me without you, Chloe. You make me want to do better, to care about myself the way you do. I’m so, so happy that I’ve encouraged you to keep better care of yourself too. That’s how I know what we have is special, you know? We make each other better as people, even when we’re apart. I can only imagine what it’ll be like when we’re back together again. That day can’t come soon enough. 

Thank you for everything, Chloe. I can’t imagine a better shipmate. 

Your best friend, 

Max 

P.S. But how can you rant about me being the cutest, when it is scientifically provable that YOU are the cutest 

[Enclosed alongside the letter are two polaroids. The first is a selfie of Max, smiling with watery eyes as she holds the tea Chloe sent her. The second is one of Chloe’s selfies, with the caption “This girl inspires me” scrawled in the bottom margin.] 

Chapter Text

Dear Chlorine, 

Normally I’d start out with something light-hearted to not kill whatever good mood you get from opening my letters, but I gotta say it right away: I’m kinda freaking the fuck out right now. 

Finals are coming up soon. Notices got given out to everyone who’s in danger of failing classes if we don’t get above specific grades on the tests, and I got a couple, specifically for science and math. That was earlier this week. I didn’t say anything on the phone cause I haven’t told my parents and didn’t want them to hear.  

It’s hard to think of a time I’ve ever been more anxious about anything. I saw a specialist recently who prescribed some medication for my anxiety (just like I promised I would) but apparently it takes some time to really kick in and I haven’t been taking it for very long. It’s beyond frustrating to know that there’s really not much I can do about it until the meds decide to work, if they even do! Apparently some meds just don’t work for some people, and the only way to know is to try a bunch and see what sticks! Why did I have to start this NOW of all times? 

I’m really scared of failing, Chloe. I was never any good at taking tests, not like you were. I hate feeling like my whole future is staked on this! What if I’m held back a grade? All the friends I’ve made here would move on without me, and I’d have to start over again! And you’d get to go to college while I’d still be stuck in high school! What college would even take me after that? All that just because of some stupid tests! 

There’s some kids in my class that just laughed when they got their notices. I almost wish I could do that, just to avoid this constant stress. In a way, it must be nice to just... not care? I have no idea how to do that. I always care way too much about everything. (Including you, but I’m very okay with caring way too much about you.) 

So, instead of dealing with the problem, I’m sitting here writing to you. I know I should be studying like crazy but my brain sees all the stuff I don’t know and it just kinda shuts down and tries its best to think about literally anything else. Writing to you was my first instinct to help make myself feel better. I wish you were here. You made studying bearable, and you made a good tutor, even if I sometimes used your shoulder as a pillow. 

I need to talk about something else now. If I keep thinking about this I might start crying. 

Outside of looming tests that make me want to pull my hair out, school has been going okay. I’ve gone out with Kristen and Fernando a lot more recently, and have started getting to know some of their other friends. I wouldn’t call any of them more than acquaintances at the moment, but I really like a few of them. I’m hoping I can make proper friends with some of them soon, when I’m not quite as stressed out. (Before you ask: no romantic prospects, and none of them could ever replace you.) 

Speaking of that, Kristen and Fernando have been acting a little weird lately. They’ve been asking lots of questions about you. I mean, I talk about you to them a lot, but now they’ve actually started asking for details. Stuff like what we used to do for fun, what we talk about on the phone, your favorite foods and colors. Not that I mind sharing, but it’s a bit strange to me that they’re suddenly so keen on knowing all this stuff about you? Not sure what’s up there. Maybe they’re hoping to meet you someday? I would like to introduce you to them. 

And speaking of THAT: I finally got some news on how I might be able to see you again! It’s not as soon as I would like though. Basically, my parents are making me save up for the trip down there myself. Since I don’t really have a job or much of an allowance, that might take a while. I’ll have to cut back on my film usage, since that eats up almost all of my allowance, but if it means getting to see you, then it’s worth it. Still, that means you’ll have to deal with receiving a few less selfies for a while. 

By the way, I have to say, I LOVE what you did with the detailing and shading on your most recent panels! It makes Super Max look like such a badass, which isn’t a word I ever thought I could use to describe myself. You always put so much effort into drawing me, and it really makes me feel special. I really wish I could do the same for you. I am getting better, though I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as you! 

Sadly, I probably won’t have much time to work on our comics for a bit (see above). Once the death march through finals is over I’ll get back to them right away. Gives me plenty of time to think up the next plot twist! I need something that can match your last one. Seriously, the teacher as the villain? I never saw it coming, but it made such perfect sense! I’m not sure how I can top that, but I’ll do my best! 

So... yeah. Stressed Max, fewer selfies for a bit, and no comics for a bit. This has been such a happy letter. I’m really sorry, it’s just a rough time right now. You’re probably gonna be getting like full size novels from me over Christmas break.  

God, now I’m worrying about not doing enough to show how much I care. We promised to work on that. Simple fact is that sometimes shit gets in the way. Life is weird like that. No real way to avoid it, no sense in beating myself up over it. I do always wish I could talk to you more, have more time for you, be a better friend to you than I am currently, but sometimes I can’t, and like you keep saying, not everything is my fault. I’m doing the best I can under the circumstances I think, and for now that has to be enough. 

You do deserve so much more though, and I promise you’ll get it once this rough period is over. Thank you for being my anchor through it, even though you’re going through similar shit of your own. So, now that my rant about my problems is out of the way, I invite you to rant about yours. Fill my mailbox with all your test and friend related stress. I probably can’t do much about them from here, but I can and will always listen. Sometimes that’s all I really need, someone to listen. You’ve always been that person for me, and I’ll always be that person for you. 

Alright. Should make an attempt to study. Or maybe smash my head against a brick wall for twenty minutes. We’ll see which one helps more. Keeping our next call in mind to push me through it. 

Your Floundering Friend, 

Max 

P.S. If you were a Pokemon, you’d totally be a Houndour. Very fierce and fiery tempered at times, but also very loyal and protective. And also addicted to bacon. 

P.P.S. And also great to cuddle with (I assume) 

Dear Maxicillin, 

I know I usually open these with some kind of rude joke or other, but I think it’s more important that I start with how proud I am of you for recognizing that none of this is your fault (Also hella proud that you started getting treatment!) Am I bummed that our letters have to be shorter and contain a few less goodies for a while? Of course. But that’s how life gets sometimes. I’m glad you realized that, and I absolutely do not hold any of it against you. If anything, it gives me more incentive to survive finals, knowing that our comics and your selfies are waiting on the other side.  

I know it probably doesn’t help all that much, but you’re definitely not alone in the worry about finals. My grades have been climbing back up, but I’m not to the point where passing is a guarantee yet. I still need to do well on the finals. Not just to pass, but also worrying about how it will look on transcripts. Mom’s been pushing me to apply for Blackwell here in town, and we don’t have the money to pay for that without scholarships. 

And... it’s weird. She talks about me going to Blackwell, and I actually want to go. Well, not that I really WANT to be in school, who the hell does, but like. You get what I mean, right? I want to make mom proud. I want to do good enough in school to do that. 

You mentioned wishing you could just not care about any of it. Well, I’ve been there before, and trust me, it sucks. Those months before we started talking again? I didn’t care about any of it. Dad was gone, you were gone, nothing mattered anymore except escaping it. And it did feel good short term, but it didn’t really help me. Over time it just made things even worse. I don’t want to think about what paths I could have gone down if you hadn’t come back into my life. 

I still have to fight it sometimes. There are days when I’ll look at something of dad’s, or mom will say something about him, and all that shittiness comes rushing back like it just happened. It will feel like nothing matters anymore and I’ve been stupid to pretend otherwise, like I’ve been stupid to care about things again because it just leads to getting hurt. I’ve been having these days less often recently, but it still happens. And maybe it will forever. Maybe losing your dad isn’t something you ever recover from. Jesus Christ I still miss him so fucking much, Max. I know he’d want me to keep going, but thinking about that doesn’t motivate me, it just drags me down even further. 

You know what does keep me going, though? You do, Max. You came back when I needed you and haven’t left me since, even when we’re hundreds of miles apart. When I’m feeling down, I can look at your pictures, read your handwriting, hear your voice, and start to think, “Hey, maybe things aren’t okay right now, but they will be again. She believes in you.” You’ve taught me how to care again, Max. You say you care too much, but that’s better than not caring at all. So whatever happens, keep on caring. 

(For the record: you’re adorable when you really care about something. It’s what makes taking pictures with you so fun. And for another record: I care way too much about you too.) 

I know this will probably get to you after your finals are over, but you can do it. You’re Max Fucking Caulfield, photographer extraordinaire. You’re gonna make those tests your bitch. And if the worst DOES happen, well, then I guess I’m taking a gap year before college, aren’t I? Ain’t no way I’m leaving my first mate behind for what should be our greatest adventure. I’m with you through anything, Maxi. But we don’t have to worry about that, cause you’re gonna do great! 

Also, HOLY FUCKING SHIT YES SAVE EVERY PENNY YOU CAN. I’ll miss your selfies but it’s worth going a few weeks or months without them if it means I get to see the real thing sooner. I’m gonna start stockpiling snacks and shitty romcoms in advance. I’ll even go clean out our old tree fort! Be warned though, once I have you I’m never letting you leave, so say your goodbyes to your parents and friends in advance. Gah even thinking about it is so exciting, and yet so painful at the same time because we don’t know how long we have to wait. Hopefully not long! I’d send you what money I have to supplement your fund but uh... I kinda have none money right now. I could start selling some of my CDs and skating gear. Say the fucking word and I will find us the money whatever it takes. 

You’ll have to find a way to smuggle Kristen and Fernando with you, I’m interested to meet anyone who could draw my Max out of her shell. And they’re interested in me too now? You must really like to talk about me. Can’t get me off your mind, is that it? I know, I’m very distracting. Must be my roguish charms, they work even on unsuspecting hipsters.  

For real though, thank you for be willing to listen to all of my shit, too. We’ve got quite a lot of baggage between the two of us, eh? But it’s okay. We can carry it all together until we’re ready to chuck it overboard to make room for more booty (Specifically: more cute hipster booty). Things will get better for us, Max. I’m really glad I can actually believe that again. 

Welp, I’ve got studying of my own I should get to before David comes and snaps at me (though, weirdly he’s been less of an ass about it lately). Next time we exchange letters, we’ll be free for a bit! Expect lots of drawings and gushing words then. For now, just remember: you’ve got this! 

Your Studious Stereotype, 

Price. (Takes off sunglasses) Chloe Price. 

P.S. If you were a Pokemon, you’d be a Clefairy. A very rare find and shy around strangers, but mysterious, magical, and very adorable. Also, pink. Lots of pink.  

P.P.S. I’m fucking excellent to cuddle with, I’ll prove it to you when I see you next 

Chapter Text

The envelope was very clearly marked, in Max’s neat handwriting, as “DO NOT OPEN UNTIL CHRISTMAS DAY!” Chloe had been torn since receiving it the week before. On the one hand, she wanted to respect Max’s wishes and prove that she deserved Max’s trust, even if Max herself would never find out. She’d marked her own letter to Max in a similar fashion, after all. On the other, there’d literally never been a Christmas present meant for her that she hadn’t snuck an early peak at.  

So, like the rebel she was, she decided to open it at 11:58 PM on Christmas Eve. Yeah, take that, Max! 

Chloe opened the envelope eagerly, trying not to tear it open too loudly. If David heard he’d probably dress her down for being up so late, even on Christmas. Well... maybe he wouldn’t, he’d been a bit laxer lately, but... she wasn’t gonna take chances. 

What she pulled out wasn’t the collection of notebook sheets she’d come to expect, but two pages of thick paper. The first had a reddish tint to it, framed around the edge by stylized tinsel with wreaths at the corners. The handwriting covering it was that familiar, neat scrawl she’d come to know and love. Just seeing it was enough to get her grinning, even before she’d begun reading her best friend’s words. 

Dear Chloe, 

 

If I know you as well as I think I do, you stayed up until midnight to open this. Or, more likely, you waited until a couple minutes before, like a smartass. 

Chloe couldn’t help laughing, though she stifled it quickly. Damn it. Of course Max would know. 

Either way, that lets me be the first to tell you: MERRY CHRISTMAS! 

Alright, you know me, the super sap. It’s time to get sappy on this, the best of days for sappiness. Proceed at your own risk.  

So Christmas is supposed to be all about appreciating the people you love, right? Well, now’s the perfect time for some good old-fashioned Chloe Price appreciation. I need to say it more often, but god damn do I appreciate you, more than I can properly express. Your encouragement pulled me out of a dark place, got me living my life again. I’ve gone out more, I’ve made new friends, I’ve taken more photos than my poor film supply can keep up with.  Even when we’re apart, you’re such a good influence on me. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish we could be back together again. If I could have anything I wanted for Christmas, it would be that. As is, just getting to talk to you is the best gift I could ask for. 

Okay, sappiness over. Now, I know we promised each other no presents so we could save up for my trip down to you. But, this being an extra special holiday and you being an extra special friend, I couldn’t just NOT give you something. I originally wanted to make a big album for you, but that would take a lot of film and I need to ration it for a while, so... I’m still not GREAT at drawing compared to you, but I really put a lot of work into it. I hope you like it. 

I could go on for a lot longer, but this Christmas stationery is kinda pricey and Mom would only let me have this one page. You can hear the rest of my epic “Chloe Price is the fucking best” speech when we talk later today! Gotta help Mom wrap Dad’s presents now (she got him a new shaving kit, talk about passive aggressive). Hope you and Joyce have a good holiday without too much David getting in the way. 

Merry Christmas, Chloe. 

 

Your best friend forever, 

Max 

 

P.S. All I want for Christmas is you. Congrats, you now have the song stuck in your head. 

Chloe swore, though she was still smiling. Max knew how much she hated that song, the little shit. But she’d have her revenge during their call... 

Skimming through the letter again, Chloe’s brow furrowed at Max’s mention of a present. That she’d sent a drawing surprised Chloe. Chloe had sent a lot of them, but Max was too self-conscious about her art skills – undeservedly so – to show them off anywhere other than their comics. Curious, Chloe set the letter aside and held up the second piece of paper. 

Her breath caught in her chest. It was a portrait, sketched and shaded with charcoal pencils, of Chloe’s father. 

It wasn’t a masterpiece by any stretch. His nose was off-center, his jawline a bit too crooked. There were light smudges in places where it was apparent Max had erased and started fresh. But it was recognizably William Price, and if anything, its imperfections just made it better. Perfect hyper-realistic sketches always seemed uncanny, like they’d been done by a machine. The flaws were proof that someone – no, not just someone, Max – had gone through the effort to make this for Chloe. 

Chloe sat heavily on her bed, her eyes watering as she stared at the drawing. Max didn’t give herself nearly enough credit. She’d even managed to capture his... not carelessness, that wasn’t the right word. Maybe carefree was better. That look in his eyes and that smile on his lips that made you feel like, no matter what happened, everything would turn out alright. 

She hugged the drawing gently to her chest as a few tears slipped free. The hurt she felt at his absence never fully went away, but it surged forward on days like today, meant for being with the ones you love. It came strongly now, that awful, hollow ache in her chest as she thought of all the things she could’ve said and would say, but would never get the chance to.  

In the morning, she would take her seat next to the Christmas tree, as she always did. The tree, once filled with ornaments and tinsel by her and William, would be mostly bare. There’d be no one to sit beside her as she opened her presents, no one to have snowball fights with the crumpled wrapping paper, no one to share a mug of hot chocolate with and enjoy Christmas cartoons.  

Chloe eventually had to set the drawing down and shove her face into a pillow to muffle her crying. She didn’t try to hold it back, but let her grief flow freely for the first time in months. She’d been doing so well up to now. She’d known today could be bad, but not as bad their first Christmas without him. Then she’d basically been catatonic, showing no excitement about presents or cookies or anything. All the pain she’d felt then was fresh again.  

But... back then, she’d thought she’d lost Max too. She hadn’t had the constant phone calls, selfies, comics, and most importantly, their letters. She hadn’t had the healing that Max provided from afar with nothing but words and a camera. 

When the worst of the sobbing subsided, Chloe sat back up and wiped her eyes, gingerly taking Max’s letter and drawing over to her desk. In the bottommost drawer, carefully organized into folders, were all of the letters Max had sent, along with all of her photos that weren’t selfies – those were hanging around Chloe’s room. Chloe slipped the latest letter into the latest folder, then pulled out the very first letter and began to reread it. 

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there tracing back over all of Max’s words to her. She hardly needed any reminders on the context for any of them; she'd reread them all so many times she’d committed many of them to memory. All of Max’s laughs and sorrows, her worries and her cares, all put to paper for Chloe’s eyes alone. Sometimes there’d be a few letters in a row with nothing noteworthy happening, but they continued to poke fun and talk about nothing anyway. Others were mostly serious, with plenty of venting and reassurances for the other’s venting. Even some more... personal conversations that would mortify Chloe to consider saying to anyone else.  

They hadn’t discussed Chloe’s dad much. She’d never known what to say. What could she say without dragging Max down too? What could Max say to make her feel better? 

It doesn’t matter. Just talking to her makes me feel better.  

And so did rereading her old letters. Little by little, the aching in Chloe's chest receded, and her breathing returned to normal again. She managed a smile at the letter in her hands. While the good feeling lasted, she took Max’s sketch of William and pinned it to the wall next to the window.  

No, she wasn’t okay yet. But she was getting better. Eventually, with Max’s help, everything would be alright again.

Max’s brain took a bit to get going. Her first few thoughts were hazy grumbles about the sunlight waking her up. Once it finally clicked what day it was, her mind kicked into overdrive as her eyes snapped open. 

It’s Christmas!  

She practically leaped out of bed and rushed to her desk. A sealed envelope bearing Chloe’s handwriting was waiting atop a small box wrapped in festive Christmas paper. She’d been slightly miffed when it arrived the week before – she and Chloe had promised not to get each other presents to save money for their reunion – but Chloe had repeatedly promised over the phone that she hadn’t spent money. And after all, how could Max not get excited about a present from her best friend? 

Tempted as she was, she tore open the envelope first. It had been so hard having one of Chloe’s letters so close for so long and not opening it. A big grin lit up her face as she pulled the sheets of notebook paper out and saw the many doodles of Santa and Christmas trees that filled the margins. So dorky, so artsy, so Chloe.   

Dear Max, 

 

That’s right, no nicknames for this one. This one’s important. Well, everything from me is important, but this one is Extra Important. If you’re opening this when you’re supposed to (I’ll know if you don’t, I’ve got Super Chloe Senses) then I hope I’m the first to tell you: 

MERRY CHRISTMAS, MAX! 

That’s right, you get a Christmas card from the one and only Captain Chloe. You know who else gets Christmas cards from her? Nobody. You, Max Caulfield, are special. You know what else you get that no one else gets? A PRESENT. Yeah, I sent you one even though we said we didn’t have to! Cause you, the one and only Max Fucking Caulfield, are EXTRA special. (Well, okay, I got Joyce something too, but that doesn’t count) 

Pinky promise I didn’t spend money on it. It’s not much, just something we had lying around the house. You might remember dad’s old camera he always used for us? Well, it’s not exactly getting used much anymore (except for my selfies to you) so I figured you could make better use of it all. You’ll have to let me know if it doesn’t work with your camera or something. It comes with a condition though: you have to use all of it for adorkable selfies! I need more photos for the Wall of Max, and now you can’t use rationing film as an excuse! 

And now, because Christmas and all, is the part where I get mushy. Only for you, Max, only for you. Bear with me a moment. 

I know I’ve beaten this horse to death, but I can never say it enough: You are the absolute best friend a girl could ask for. I got my fall report card back a couple days ago, and I managed a B average! Not back up to my old standard yet, but it’s a hell of a lot better than I did in spring! I couldn’t have managed that without your constant support and encouragement. It’s so motivating to know that I’ve got you cheering me on, and that you’ll stick with me even if I slip up.  

I know I’ve had a lot of slip ups this year. Your patience through it all has been a godsend. Thank you for everything, Maxi. I promise you I’m going to do even better this next year. Even if it means I have to try getting along with David. It sounds like I’ll have to, since he seems to be invited to Christmas, but... I don’t know, he’s been less of a douche lately. Maybe it will be tolerable. 

Definitely planning to call you today to wish you merry Christmas too. Really wish I could be there to tell you in person. Seeing you again would be the best Christmas gift ever. But we’ll see each other again soon, right? So for now it will do.  

Ugh, I should probably wrap Joyce’s present at some point. I’ve been putting that off for days. Eventually she’s gonna just walk in and see it. Guess I’ll do that now. 

Merry Christmas, Max. 

 

Santa’s Long-Lost Elf, 

Chloe 

 

P.S. You ever think about how the moral of Rudolph’s story is that differences will be shunned unless they’re useful? I think about it a lot. 

P.P.S. If I were a reindeer, I’d be Cupid, then I could ram you and you’d fall in love with me 

Max laughed even as she blushed furiously. Chloe loved crude jokes like that, and would probably love them more if she knew exactly how much they flustered Max. She could hide it well enough in her letters and over the phone, but when they did reunite it was going to be a problem. 

Then again, Chloe had started liking those jokes before they split apart, and they hadn’t had nearly as much effect on Max back then. Odd. 

Putting that thought aside for now – if only to stop her face being so hot - she turned her attention to the present. She had a strong suspicion of what it was now, and was delighted to discover she was right when she tore it open to find several boxes of polaroid film. It wasn’t much – her usual picture rate would burn through it all in less than a week – but with her dwindling supply she cherished it all the more. 

Thank you so much, Chloe. Even without spending a dime, you’re so thoughtful...   

If only Max’s gift had been so thoughtful. Her drawing skills were mediocre at best. What if Chloe couldn’t even tell who it was supposed to be? Maybe she should’ve just burned through the rest of her film and made that album after all...  

She won’t think less of you for it, Max had to reassure herself. You’re not a bad friend for trying like you did. She’ll appreciate it.  

Normally her anxiety would spike and smack down such thoughts. Yet, right now... she felt strangely okay with them. Maybe her new medication was finally starting to work. 

Taking heart in that thought, Max slipped Chloe’s letter into a protective sleeve in the binder with its predecessors, then went for her bedroom door. She opened it slowly and crept out into the hall. Her parents’ door was still shut; they always slept in on Christmas. Perfect – that gave her some private time for a call. She bounded down the steps as quietly as she could and went for the phone.  

Dialing the number was muscle memory at this point. Max bounced on the balls of her feet impatiently as it rang. When it finally picked up, it was a matronly southern drawl that answered, “Hello?” 

“Hi, Joyce!” Max said, miffed but glad to speak to Chloe’s mother, who had been like a second mother to Max growing up. “Merry Christmas!” 

“And a merry Christmas to you too, Max,” Joyce said warmly. “Chloe was just talking about calling you. I’ll put her on.” 

“Thank you, Joyce!” 

“Don’t mention it, Max. It’s for my own good, really. I know how Chloe gets if she doesn’t get her Max time.” 

Max didn’t really know what to say to that. How did Chloe get? Knowing it affected her somehow made Max feel... flutters? Yes, that was a good word. Like little butterflies nesting in her belly. 

She was spared having to think of a response. After a brief commotion on the other end of the line, that familiar, lovely voice said her name. “Max?” 

“Merry Christmas, Chloe!” Max practically squealed. 

Chloe laughed. “Merry Christmas to you too, Maximus. You like your present?” 

“Of course! You sure it wasn’t really a present for you though?” 

“Both! You get to take more pictures, and I get more selfies in the mail!” 

“True, true. Did... you like your present?” 

Chloe was silent a moment. When she spoke next, her voice was soft and subdued. “Yeah... I really did. Thank you, Max.” 

“You, um... could tell what it was, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah... My dad. Really, Max, it was great. You don’t give yourself enough credit.” 

Max frowned at Chloe’s somber tone. “Are you okay?” 

“I’ll be fine. Just... Really missing him today, you know?” 

Oh. Duh. Way to read the room, Max. And way to send her something that would make her sad on Christmas! “Yeah, I know... God, I’m sorry, Chlo. I didn’t think-” 

“It was gonna happen today anyway, Maxi. Really, I love the drawing. I hung it up and everything. It’s... good to have something to remember him by. And to know how you remember him too.” 

“He was a great man...” Max said, unsure of how to comfort Chloe. They hadn’t talked much about William. What could you even say to someone who had lost their father so young, especially when the loss had hurt you too? 

“He was...” Chloe sniffled. “There’s so many things I wish I could say to him. So many good memories I wish I could thank him for. I can’t, but there’s still people I can say that to. Today more than any other day, I want to appreciate what I have, because... you never know when you could lose it.” 

“Chloe...” was all Max could manage, a film of tears coating her eyes. 

“Max,” Chloe continued, sounding choked up. “I’ve said it so much in my letters, but I need to say it out loud so I don’t regret it if... if anything... happens... You’re my best friend, my partner in crime. Thank you so much for all of the memories we share, all of the memories we keep making. Thank you for your patience, your support, helping me find my way again... Thanks for being you, Max. I don’t know where I’d be without you.” 

Max managed a weak chuckle past the lump in her throat and the swarm of butterflies in her stomach. She considered cracking wise about Chloe getting mushy where Joyce could no doubt hear, but decided against it. Her words had been heartfelt. The only proper response was to return them. 

“I’m glad I can be all those things, for you, Chloe,” Max said, tears trickling down her cheeks even as she smiled. “And you’re all those things to me, too. Our memories are so precious to me. You support me through all my dumb bullshit even when you’ve got your own. You’re... you’re the most important person in the world to me, Chloe.” 

Max’s heart lurched as she said the words. Why, though? It wasn’t anything she hadn’t said a thousand times in their letters. But that was just it, wasn’t it? It was a lot easier to express deep emotions like that through written words that wouldn’t be read until days later. Actually saying it out loud, directly to someone was much different. It laid bare all the emotions held in the words. It made them more real.  

After a couple of hard sniffles and a chuckle from Chloe, she said softly, “You are to me too, Max. I...” 

A long silence. “...Chlo?” 

“...Sorry, just... God, we’re mushy today, eh?” 

Max chuckled. “It’s the perfect day for it.” 

“I suppose it is. But anyway, now that’s out of the way, plans for the day? Wishes for presents?” 

“Other than opening a large, Chloe-sized box?” 

Chloe laughed. “Much as we both would love that...” 

They talked for a while about their plans for the day, for the new year, and for the gifts they hoped to receive. All the while, that insistent fluttering never faded from Max’s stomach. It was... pleasant in a way, but it filled her with a weird feeling not unlike anxiety. Maybe her medication wasn’t fully working yet after all? No, it couldn’t be that. Talking to Chloe couldn’t make her anxious. Well, except for their first phone call, and that time with the ripped-up comic, and now... 

...what about now?  

Alas, she didn’t get enough time to consider an answer. The telltale sounds of her parents waking echoed down the stairwell, and Max knew it was time to say goodbye. She always found it hard, but something about today made her dread it. She had to force the words out.  

“Well... sounds like my parents are getting up... I’ll have to go...” 

“Okay, Max,” Chloe sounded as down about it as Max felt. “Well, we’ll talk tomorrow about all the stuff we get, alright?” 

“Sounds like a plan to me, captain.” 

“Merry Christmas, Max.” 

“Merry Christmas, Chloe.” 

Max reluctantly hung up, but managed a smile anyway. Throughout the rest of the holiday, she saw and talked to many of the people she cared about, friends and family both. She ate her fill of Christmas meats, pudding, and all manner of sweets and candies. She received a good number of gifts (most of which were photography related, but sadly little extra film) and was grateful for each. 

Through it all, her mind kept straying back to a certain girl in far-off Arcadia Bay, and the friendship they shared. At the end of the day, a bond as special as theirs was the best gift of all.

Vanessa: Merry Christmas, Joyce! 

Joyce: Merry Christmas, Vanessa! Good to hear from you! How’s Seattle? 

Vanessa: Well enough, I suppose, though I do sometimes miss the small-town life. Knowing everyone had its perks. 

Joyce: And its downsides. Can’t do anything without it being all over town come morning. 

Vanessa: True, true! So, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. 

Joyce: Let me guess, does it rhyme with Tax and Snowy? Their chat this morning? 

Vanessa: Is it that obvious to you too? 

Joyce: Depends on what you mean by “it,” but if you mean what I think you mean, then yes, it’s that obvious. Has been for a while, really. 

Vanessa: I had my doubts, but not after their call this morning. I feel kind of bad for eavesdropping – Max thought we were still sleeping – but I couldn’t help overhearing. 

Joyce: Chloe didn’t even care that David and I were in the living room. This time of year is hard for us since... you know. I was surprised to hear her speak so candidly. 

Vanessa: Same thing here. It’s not like Max to express her feelings so openly. 

Joyce: Not quite openly. There’s a lot that’s not being said between those two. A lot that they themselves might not even know how to process. 

Vanessa: I remember being that age. Such a mess. 

Joyce: Quite. So what specifically about it did you want to talk about? 

Vanessa: Well, how do you feel about it?  

Joyce: Honestly, I’ve always thought it could happen, even when they were kids. And you wouldn’t believe the effect Max has had on Chloe since they started talking again. I was worried she might start getting into trouble – and she did for a while – but she’s getting back on track. She’s healing. And I think it’s all because of Max. You should see the look on her face when she gets one of those letters. 

Vanessa: I know what you mean. You’d think letter day was like Christmas morning in our house. Max has been going out more, making friends – our shy little Maxine, going out! She even came to Ryan and I about seeking help for her anxiety. She’s made me so proud these last few months, and I think I have Chloe to thank for that. 

Joyce: Sounds like we’re in agreement, then. Those two are good for each other. I think this is something we should encourage. 

Vanessa: I agree. Best not to be too direct though. We want them to process things on their own time. 

Joyce: Of course. I have a couple ideas on that, if you’ll agree? 

Vanessa: What did you have in mind? 

Joyce: Money’s still a bit tight around here, but I think it’s high time Chloe got her own cell phone. Both to keep in touch with me, and also so she feels she can have some more private talks with Max. Does Max have one yet? 

Vanessa: No, we’ve been putting that off cause her photography hobby gets so pricey. I think it’s time though. We can spin it as a New Year’s gift or something. 

Joyce: Chloe’s grades have been climbing again, but I worry she’ll have trouble focusing if she could text Max all day. For that and budget reasons I think I’m going to restrict her plan to calls only to start with. If she proves trustworthy enough to not get in trouble with it I’ll find the money for texting later. 

Vanessa: Good plan, I agree. I’ll put the same restrictions on Max. They can feel like they’re earning the right to text together. It can be more bonding for them, haha. 

Joyce: Bonding them against us, you mean. 

Vanessa: If that’s what it takes. They’ll thank us later. 

Joyce: Hopefully! I also wanted to talk to you about Max potentially visiting soon? Chloe’s been going on about it for a while, she’s quite excited by the idea. 

Vanessa: Oh, you should have heard Max nagging us about it. We told her she had to save her own money for the trip down, and she actually stopped buying new film because of that. I thought hell would freeze over first. 

Joyce: At least you know she’s committed, haha. Chloe originally mentioned her staying some random weekend, but I had another idea. Something to make it really special for both of the girls. 

Vanessa: I’m all ears. Max deserves something special for how much she’s improved over this year. They both do. 

Joyce: That they do. So, I was thinking...  

Chapter Text

Max was hiding something, and Chloe couldn’t get it out of her mind. 

She paced her room like a caged animal, frowning at the screen of her cell phone. Her call history was displayed there; naturally it was almost all Max. Yet, over the last week or so the call times had grown shorter and shorter, and now today, Chloe had made two calls that hadn’t been answered at all. She debated trying a third time, but eventually slid her phone in her pocket and went to her desk. 

It wasn’t just the calls, either. Max’s latest letter was only a couple paragraphs long. Chloe scanned it again, searching for some kind of hidden meaning. The letters were written with an unsteady hand, but from nervousness, or excitement? There wasn’t any nerve wracking or exciting news in the words themselves, just wishes for a happy spring break, which began today.

Ugggh, am I reading too much into this? We don’t need to talk for hours or send several pages ALL the time. I’ve even told her that… so am I just being too clingy? 

She’d been worrying about that recently. As much as talking to Max was helping her, she knew that being codependent wasn’t healthy either. Perhaps a few days with reduced contact every now and then would be good for them, as much as Chloe hated the idea. Maybe Max had realized that first and was trying to scale back a bit. 

Or maybe Max had been slowly trying to prep Chloe for Spring Break week, when Max said she’d be out of Seattle. Maybe she was going on vacation somewhere with her parents and didn’t want to risk losing her phone, so she’d tried to wean them both off of contact for a while.

Or maybe she’s finally getting tired of me, a dark part of Chloe’s brain suggested. Maybe the new friends she’s made are enough that she doesn’t need me anymore… 

She shook her head and cursed herself. No way. She had so much proof of how Max cared. She wouldn’t let herself doubt it, even for a moment. Whatever Max’s reasons, they were good ones, and she’d tell Chloe eventually. 

It’d be hard to avoid speculating with the entire next week off of school though. Frustrating as school was, it kept her mind occupied. What was she going to do with a whole week to herself? TV and video games could only last so long before they got stale. And being listless was more likely to get her into the types of trouble Max was trying so hard to help her avoid.

Chloe fell onto her bed and stared at the ceiling, pondering her options. Steph would be out of town with her parents. Same with Mikey. Eliot was probably free, but something about him deterred her from wanting to be alone with him. No, she’d have to make her own entertainment.

Maybe… I could ask mom if there’d be some work for me at Two Whales. A full week’s worth of pay would really help out Max’s trip money… Hmm. Come to think of it, she hasn’t mentioned that for a while. I wonder how much she’s saved up? We’ve gotta be getting close, right?

Typical of her thoughts to wander back to Max. Seemed like every path in her brain led back to Max these days. And with Max on her mind, she felt… light? She wasn’t sure how to describe it, but it was pleasant, peaceful even. So much better than the dark thoughts that tended to crop up when she thought about her dad, or David, or school. And with Max’s help, even those thoughts weren’t quite as dark as they used to be.

God, I miss her… If she were still here, everything would be… well, not perfect. Dad would still be gone. David would still be around. School would still suck. But… things would be better. I think I could deal with everything else if she was here...

That line of thought was interrupted by the distant ring of a doorbell, followed by her mother’s voice from downstairs. “Chloe! Could you answer that?”

Chloe sat up, irritated. “Why can’t you get it?” she shouted back.

“I’m busy! Please Chloe, I’m not gonna tell you again!”

She groaned loudly but stood up anyway. At one point she might’ve ignored Joyce entirely. As it was, she resigned herself to grumbling all the way down the stairs. What could possibly be taking up so much of Joyce’s time that she couldn’t answer the fucking door? It probably wasn’t even important, just the mail dude or some door to door salesman, maybe even one of those religious nutjobs from that crazy church on the other side of town. She already had a hearty “Fuck off” on her lips as she threw the door open.

Her curses died in her throat as her breath escaped. 

Brown hair. Blue eyes. That smile, that blush. Freckles, those damn adorable freckles. 

“Uh, hey Chloe. Surprise! I—”

“MAX!” Chloe screamed, lunging forward to wrap the girl in the tightest hug she could manage, terrified that she might vanish at any moment.

“Good to see you too,” Max groaned, wrapping Chloe in an equally tight hug of her own. 

“You’re here,” Chloe mumbled, trying not to cry like a sappy idiot. 

“I am,” Max mumbled back, sounding like she was holding back tears of her own. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I wanted to surprise you…” 

“It worked… Best surprise ever.” 

“It was so hard not to tell you, I had to make our calls and letters shorter so I wouldn’t be tempted, I’m so sorry—” 

“Shut up,” Chloe chuckled. “No apologies. You’re here. You’re here. ” 

“I am… I’ve missed you.” 

“Same, Maxi, same…” 

Max. She’s here. She’s really here.  

She had changed a bit since the last time they’d seen each other. She wore her hair in a short bob rather than her old ponytail, and she’d gained a couple more inches, though Chloe still towered over her. Her sense of style clearly hadn’t improved, though the messenger bag substantially raised her hipster aura. 

Chloe had seen all this through Max’s selfies, but seeing it in person made it so much more real. 

All of Chloe’s cares and worries didn’t seem to matter anymore. Holding Max close to her, she felt more whole, more right, than she had in a long time.

They stood there wrapped up in each other for longer than Chloe cared to count, until someone cleared their throat behind her. “Are you two gonna stand out here all day?”

They quickly - though reluctantly - split apart to face Joyce, who stood in the doorway with a warm smile. “Well if it isn’t Max Caulfield in the flesh! It’s been way too long.”

“It’s great to see you, Joyce!” Max embraced her tightly. “I’ve missed you too.”

Joyce hugged back. “God, you’ve grown too much since I last saw you. Stop that. You two should still be knee high by my count.”

“Has she grown?” Chloe smirked and crossed her arms. “I don’t know, she still looks like a squirt to me.”

Max let go of Joyce to glare and stick her tongue out at Chloe. God that pouting face was cute. “Ignoring you. Anyway, thanks for helping me get this set up, Joyce.”

“Of course, Max. You’re always welcome here, and Chloe’s been so impatient to see you again.”

“Wait…” Chloe narrowed her eyes at them. “Mom, you knew about this?”

“Yes I did. Don’t give me that look, Max was adamant it be a surprise. Besides, Max’s parents needed some reassurances before they’d agree to let her stay for the whole week.”

The human heart was probably not built to change pulse as erratically as Chloe’s just did. “The… The whole week?”

“Yeah, Chlo,” Max said with barely contained excitement in her voice. “The whole week. No school, no homework, just—”

Chloe cut her off by laughing and wrapping her in another tight hug, which Max quickly joined in on. Holy shit. A whole week, with Max. She had to be dreaming, right? Nothing this good ever happened to her. She didn’t deserve anything this good to happen to her.

“Now Chloe,” Joyce scolded, “are you going to keep trying to crush Max to death, or are you going to carry her things inside?”

“O-Oh, yeah,” Chloe mumbled sheepishly, unable to wipe the massive grin off her face. Chloe noticed for the first time the large duffle bag that sat on the porch and heaved it up.

“Chlo, it’s okay, I can get it—”

“Nope, not a chance, Maximus,” Chloe brushed past Max’s attempts to take the bag and followed Joyce inside. “We here at Chateau De Chloe permit no stress to our guests, especially the cute ones.”

“Oh? Does that mean I get room service?”

“Yes, but the quality of said room service depends on how well you tip.”

Before Max could offer a rebuttal, Joyce rounded on Chloe. “Alright, why don’t you take her things upstairs and tidy your room a bit. It’s in no state for a guest. Max honey, you must be starving, I’ll fix you something to eat.”

Chloe groaned, but suppressed her argument for Max’s sake. “Fiiiine. I get her all week, may as well let you have a few minutes. Back in a flash, Max.” 

With that, Chloe dashed up the stairs with Max’s bag in tow, leaving a bemused Max to follow Joyce into the kitchen. As soon as she opened the door and saw the state of her room, she grudgingly admitted that Joyce had a point.

No way I’m letting Max stay in this pigsty… And uh, maybe I got a bit too excessive hanging all her selfies. Maybe we just take a few of those down...

Max bounced her leg impatiently at the Price table, waiting both for Joyce to finish preparing her promised food, and for Chloe to return from tidying her room. Her impatience wasn’t nearly enough to drown out her delight at being in this house again. It hadn’t changed all that much, aside from some of the furniture being rearranged. The old couch/pirate ship was still there across from a newer TV, next to the old carpet stain from their wine tasting session. The playset was still out back, and the same sorts of groceries sat on the counter. 

Of course, there was one major change that couldn’t be ignored: William’s absence. His personal effects were missing from the shelves, and there were no pictures of him that Max could see. That did dampen Max’s spirits quite a bit. The last time she’d been here, they’d just gotten the news…

No. NO. I’m not thinking about that this week. I’m going to enjoy my time with Chloe. 

A whole week with Chloe. Max had been surprised and ecstatic when her mother suggested it. She’d had the money for the visit a while ago, but Spring Break week was too good to pass up. She’d been unable to think about anything else for weeks. So many times she’d come close to cracking and telling Chloe, but Chloe’s surprised and joyous reaction had been worth the wait.  

That was so cute how excited she got... I’ve missed that. Letters and selfies are great and all, but they can’t quite capture her energy, her passion.  

That same passion and excitement had brought an indescribable warmth to Max’s heart. It was the feeling she got from every letter, every call, every gift they exchanged, only magnified a hundredfold. The feeling of being cherished, valued, wanted. Chloe gave her that in a way her parents or her other friends never could.

Cool as Seattle is, cool as Kristen and Fernando and everyone else is… I’d move back here in a heartbeat. I could deal with everything so much easier with Chloe… I need to keep working on my portfolio so I can apply to Blackwell. Oh man, if we both got accepted and I surprised Chloe on the first day, imagine her reaction!

“Alright!” Joyce said as she approached with a plate of food. “My famous belgian waffles, just the way you used to love them.”

Max beamed as she took the plate. “I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. Thank you so much, Joyce.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Max. Vanessa told me you didn’t eat before you caught the bus this morning.”

“Yeah, I was, uh, kinda too excited to leave…”

“Well, no skipping meals while you’re here, young lady. Lose any weight and you might vanish.”

“As if I’d want to skip anything you cook!” Max said as she cut off her first delicious bite of fluffy waffle. “Expect me to drag Chloe to lunch at Two Whales every day.”

“That’d be good. Lets me know you two aren’t getting into trouble while I’m at work.”

“Are you worried about that?” Max asked only half jokingly. Joyce considered it for a moment. 

“Well, barring any wine tasting sessions…” she paused to allow Max a laugh. She glanced toward the stairs and lowered her voice before continuing. “I might’ve worried a few months ago. Chloe’s attitude was concerning, and she still has her moments. But you’ve really helped her steer back on track, Max. I can’t begin to tell you how thankful I am for that. And when she saw you outside… I haven’t seen her that happy in a long time. With you here, I don’t think I have anything to worry about.”

Ahhh. Now Max was smiling like an idiot. She’d come for Chloe, but she’d forgotten just how much she’d missed Joyce as well. She always knew just what to say to make Max feel special. She’d never said so out loud, but Max considered Joyce to be like a second mother growing up, and was delighted to find that hadn’t changed since she’d left.

“I’m glad I can help her so much… She’s really helped me, too. I don’t know where I’d be without her.”

“You two really are something special. Cherish every moment, you hear? Bonds like that are once in a lifetime.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. She’s—”

“Hey, you two talking shit about me?” Chloe’s voice called as she rushed down the stairs, a big smile on her face as she saw Max. Max couldn’t help smiling back.

“Language,” Joyce scolded.

Max rolled her eyes. “Yes, Chloe, that’s why I came all the way back to Arcadia Bay for a whole week, to craptalk you with your mother.”

“Hey, I’d visit you for dumber reasons if I could!” Chloe joined Max at the table, where she had the audacity to pluck a piece of syrupy waffle from Max’s plate with her fingers. “So, mom, is David gonna be around this week?”

Joyce frowned and crossed her arms. “I’m glad that you’ve been tolerating him more recently, but you could at least pretend not to hate the idea of Max meeting him.”

“Look, I just—” Chloe glanced at Max, took a deep breath, then continued. “He can be abrasive to new people. I just want Max to enjoy her time here without stress.”

Joyce didn’t uncross her arms, but her expression did soften. “Well, you’ll be glad to hear that he’s down in California visiting his parents for the week— Could you at least pretend not to be excited about that?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Chloe tried to keep herself from beaming and bouncing in her seat. Max was better at hiding her relief. If what Chloe said about him was true, meeting David was a stress she really didn’t want right now. 

Chloe cleared her throat and looked back at Max. “So. A whole week… Well, uh, sorry to disappoint, but you kinda took me by surprise, so I don’t have anything fun planned for this week. Or did you plan all of that behind my back with mom too?”

“Nope, nothing planned… I just figured we’d wing it, like we always used to, you know?”

“Sure you won’t get bored? Arcadia’s pretty quiet compared to Seattle…”

“We could spend all week just laying around in your room and that would be perfect. Really, Chlo, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure it out, we always do.”

That answer seemed to satisfy Chloe. “God. Mmm. Sorry, I’m still… I can’t believe you’re actually here. I was just thinking I needed to ask you about your visit fund earlier, and now you’re here! This must mean… I can reshape reality with my mind.” 

Max burst out laughing at Chloe’s shocked expression as she said it. “Clearly that’s not true, or you’d have an infinite stack of bacon sitting in front of you.”

Chloe frowned hard at the table in front of her for a second. “Mmm… Clearly I haven’t learned to control my power yet.”

“Baby steps there, Super Chloe. Careful not to tear a hole in the fabric of reality.”

“This requires further testing, but for that I’ll need the help of my trusty sidekick!” Chloe jumped to her feet and struck a heroic pose, pointing to the stairwell. “Come, Super Max! Let us return to the Chloe Cave and test the limits of my abilities!”

Max jumped to her feet and planted her hands on her waist while puffing her chest out. “Lead the way, Super Chloe! We’ll learn how best to use your newfound power for good!”

“Uh, yeah, for good, let’s go with that.”

Both giggling like excited children, they took off for the stairs, scrambling to beat each other to Chloe’s room. And for the first time since the move, Max felt truly carefree.

Joyce watched the girls laugh and push each other out of the way as they raced up the stairs with a smile on her face. When had she last seen Chloe so bright and full of life? Max had always been a positive influence for her, but this was something else entirely. Whatever doubts she’d had about their bond didn’t hold much water anymore. 

Unconsciously, one of her hands dropped to her left pocket, where a small locket lay hidden. She’d put away everything else; all the pictures, tools, gifts, everything — except this. Never this. For though she didn’t like to be reminded of him, she also wasn’t ready to forget him, no matter what Chloe thought.

“She’ll be okay, William,” Joyce whispered so softly she could barely hear her own voice. “Our little girl will be okay. Max will take care of her.”

Wiping a tear from her eye, she turned to the dinner table to clean up what remained of Max’s food. More than half of her waffles remained, untouched. Joyce doubted they were lacking in taste, nor Max lacking in appetite. 

So impatient for Chloe time… I admit it, William, you were probably right about the two of them… And I just know you’d rub that in my face, you handsome bastard.

It occurred to Joyce that maybe letting them sleep in the same room wasn’t a wise idea. She quickly discarded that thought. If she knew the two of them as well as she thought she did, neither of them were even ready to admit anything to themselves, much less each other. They definitely weren’t about to start getting physical.

The more pressing issue is which one of them cracks and says something first. Chloe seems the obvious choice, but with how much more confident Max gets around her… Hmm. Maybe I ought to make a bet with Vanessa...

Chapter Text

Sunday

Chloe’s perfect week began with Max by her side.

She groaned as she woke, stubbornly refusing to open her eyes. Stupid sun, thinking it could tell her when to wake up. She curled up and tugged the covers over her head. Morning wouldn’t find her under there.

As she tugged, the covers resisted. Chloe rolled over with a growl, cracking her eyes to look for what they’d caught on. 

An instant later, her fatigue was forgotten.

Max lied beside Chloe, clutching the blankets with one hand. She was curled into a ball, hugging her legs with her other hand. With her fuzzy pink pajamas, she looked cozy. Her hair was frizzy, splayed out across her pillow and over her eyes. Her mouth hung slightly open, and every few seconds she gave a soft snore.

So that hadn’t been a dream after all. Max was really here.

And I get a whole week with her… 

Chloe couldn’t help smiling. She hadn’t seen bedhead-Max for a long time, and it was even cuter than she remembered. Then again, Max in general was cuter than she remembered. Had she always had so many freckles? Did Chloe’s shorter hair look as good on her as it did for Max? 

It doesn’t seem like it because of all the selfies, but… we really have changed a lot since we last saw each other.

She’d always thought of Max as cute, even back when they first met as kindergarteners. She’d told Max so more times than she could count. But now, with Max’s face inches away, unkempt as it was… Chloe suddenly realized just how pretty Max had become.

Why did that thought give her flutters, send shivers down her back? Of course Max would grow up to be pretty, and how could Chloe not notice? It was only natural she should think of her best friend as pretty, right?

Taken by an urge too potent to ignore, Chloe reached out to gently brush the hair away from Max’s face. So calm, so peaceful. She’d waited so long to see that face again. She’d be content to just lay here and stare at it for the rest of the day.

And she did for a long while, until Max stirred and groaned at the brightening light outside. She was more of a morning person than Chloe, but not by much. It took a minute or two for her eyes to finally flutter open, and another for them to actually focus and register Chloe. When she did, one of those adorable smiles crossed her lips. 

“Morning,” she croaked.

“Morning, Maxitron,” Chloe said softly. “Sleep okay?”

“Mhmm,” Max nodded. “Not sure I’ve stopped yet, though. This seems like a dream.”

“Pff, you wish you had dreams as good as me, Caulfield.”

Max chuckled. “You been awake long? You could’ve woke me up.”

“And let you fix your hair? Please, I need to enjoy this disaster as long as I can.”

Max squinted at Chloe, then snorted. “You’re one to talk. I always knew you’d turn mad scientist one day.”

“And what does that make you? A mad photographer?”

“Is that a thing? That should be a thing.”

“We’ll make it a thing just for you, Doctor Maxenstein.”

They laughed together, long but softly. Chloe felt like she could jump right out of bed and dance with joy. They’d laughed about dumb shit together over the phone, but it just couldn’t compare. Was it even possible to feel this… happy?

Not for long it isn’t. This is only temporary. She’ll leave again soon…

No. Don’t think about that yet. Focus on the here and now. Make the most of the time while it’s here.

With that in mind, Chloe stretched out and pushed herself into a sitting position. “So, how shall we spend this fine day, dear doctor?”

“Hmm,” Max hummed as she sat up alongside Chloe. “How indeed? Did you have anything in mind, Doctor Chloe?”

“Well, anything you’ve been dying to do in the great city of Arcadia Bay that Seattle couldn’t give you?”

“Yeah, breakfast at Two Whales! I’ve missed Joyce’s bacon omelettes so much!”

Chloe’s stomach picked that moment to rumble loudly. “Obviously I agree. Proves to mom that we actually got out of bed, too.”

“Yes, cause I’m sure Joyce is worried that we plan to lay in bed and do nothing all day.”

“Never said we’d be doing nothing…” Chloe gave Max a toothy smirk and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Max grabbed her pillow and smacked Chloe with it. “God, you’re hopeless.”

“Only with you, Maxi. So, what do you say we get presentable and go bug mom until she feeds us?”

Max, still furiously blushing, set her pillow down and avoided looking at Chloe. Oh yes, flustered Max was just as adorable as she’d always been. You definitely couldn’t replicate that through letters. “Y-yeah. And after that, maybe… well, I was thinking something low key for our first day. Maybe load up on snacks while we’re out, then come back and here and watch some movies, play some games? Like we used to?”

Chloe smiled and wrapped her arm around Max’s shoulders, pulling her close. She’d be doing that a lot this week. She had to savor Max’s touch as much as she possibly could. “Sounds perfect. We can either start off with our seven hundredth viewing of Bladerunner, or I can whoop your ass in Mario Kart for the seven thousandth time!”

“As if! I’ve been practicing, and this time you’re going down, Price!”

“Oh am I? Care to make it a bet?”

“You have my attention… What do we play for?”

“Whoever wins… Gets a free dare for the other person this week. Whatever it is, the other person has to do it.”

Max narrowed her eyes. “Mmm… fine, but nothing crazy or illegal, okay?”

“Deal.” They shook on it. “Now since you’re the guest, I’ll let you shower first. I need some alone time to ponder what I’ll dare you to do…”

Max pulled out of Chloe’s grip and stood, harumphing as she gathered clothes and toiletries from her bag. “Maybe you should ponder how you’ll handle it when you lose. Maybe I’ll dare you to show Joyce some of those sketches you’re always sending me.”

Chloe went rigid. “You wouldn’t…”

“You’ll have to find out, won’t you?” Max gave a sly smile and a wink as she closed the door behind her.

It took Chloe a minute to recollect herself. Shit. She hadn’t played Mario Kart in so long, and if Max really had been practicing… Once again, her mouth was running ahead of her and getting her into trouble.

Gotta remember that, Chloe. No matter how innocent and adorable she may seem… Maxine Caulfield does have an evil side.

And it might just be the cutest thing about her… 

Monday

“I still say you got lucky.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Hey, if I hadn’t got hit by that blue shell at the end—”

“That’s how the game works! If you wanted fair, you should’ve suggested Smash Bros. Lucky for you, I’ll need some time to ponder how to use my dare.”

Chloe crossed her arms and looked away, grumbling to herself. Over the sound of midmorning traffic, Max could only catch, “...lucky you’re cute…” Max felt her cheeks heat up, but she smiled to herself.

The two were walking down the sidewalk along Arcadia Bay’s main thoroughfare. Max was drinking in the sights of the town she’d grown up in with nostalgic fervor. It hadn’t changed at all from her many memories, and yet it seemed surreal and detached from reality, like it was part of another life entirely. It disturbed her more than she let on.

I don’t want this place to feel like just a relic of the past to me… Not while Chloe is still here. 

But then again, Chloe often talked about how much she wanted to leave Arcadia. She never said anything about where she’d rather go, but Max hoped that wherever it was, she’d take Max with her. Once they were both old enough to be done with school, unbound from parents and their shitty decisions to uproot their daughter’s entire life at a moment’s notice…

Whoa. Where did that come from? It wasn’t uncommon for Max to feel bitter about the move, but she’d never directed it at her parents that harshly.

Maybe I’m just realizing how much I missed this place… How much I missed Chloe. Odd as this is, I feel more normal than I have in a long time. Seattle is gonna be even more painful after this, isn’t it?

Nope, not thinking about that yet. Still got plenty of week left to enjoy.

“What’s up, Mad Max?”

“Huh?” Max snapped out of her musings to look at Chloe, who seemed to have stopped sulking about Mario Kart.

“You’ve got your deep thinking face on.”

“I have a deep thinking face?”

“Yeah, it looks like this.” Chloe scrunched her eyebrows together and tightened her lips.

“That just looks like you need to take a dump. Should we find a bathroom? Or maybe a nice bush?”

“Eat me,” Chloe retorted, though she was smirking. “So, what’s on your mind?”

Max sighed. “Just… thinking about how weird it is to be back here. How much I really don’t want to leave again.”

Chloe snorted. “That makes one of us. I’d love to be out of this dump. Maybe we can trade places. If I slouch, dye my hair and talk like a hipster, do you think we could pull off the Parent Trap maneuver?”

“Funny as it would be to see you try to dress or act like me… That wouldn’t really fix the issue.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Well…” Max paused. Why was her pulse quickening? Ignoring it as best she could, she continued, “I want to stay here cause you’re here, Chloe. If you leave, that kinda defeats the purpose, you know?”

Chloe blinked at her in surprise. “Oh… Well, uh… Hmm. If you were staying here, I guess I could be convinced to stay too… You know, probably...”

Oh? Chloe would choose to stay in Arcadia for Max? A wide, idiotic smile crossed her face. Chloe was an expert at offhandedly saying the most touching things.

“Fuck that, Chlo. As soon as we can, when we’re both done with school, let’s ditch this place. Together.”

The hopeful look Chloe gave her was heart melting. “You’d do that? You’d leave with me?”

“Of course I would. We’ve already got our road trip planned, remember?” 

Chloe’s bright smile was warmer than the morning sun could ever be. “How could I forget? We’re hitting like every tourist trap west of the Mississippi. I have a budget in mind for all the shitty knick-knacks I’m gonna buy.”

“Oh? How much do you plan to spend?”

“Yes.”

Max rolled her eyes. “I see I still have to be your impulse control.”

“Yep! Don’t ever let me out of your sight, Caulfield, or I’ll get into all sorts of trouble.”

As if I’d ever want to take my eyes off you. The thought caught her by surprise, but she managed to avoid saying it. “Maybe I ought to start keeping you on a leash.”

“Oooooh lah lah, are you into that, Max?” Chloe did that infuriating smirk and eyebrow waggle that Max would never admit she found enticing.

“Sh-Shut up!” Max smacked her on the arm and looked away, blushing furiously. Why did she always have to twist Max’s words like that? Why… why did it seem to fluster Max so much more than it once had?

Chloe laughed and threw her arm around Max’s shoulder, pulling her close into a half hug. “You’re so easy to work up. I’ve missed this way too much.”

Max tried to pout and pull away, but Chloe’s warmth was too welcoming. She sighed and put her arm around Chloe, nestling her face into Chloe’s shoulder. “Yeah, me too,” she mumbled.

Chloe stopped them walking so she could wrap Max in a full hug. Max hummed in contentment, breathing in the smell of Chloe’s shampoo. They’d hugged so many times since Max arrived, but it didn’t seem to be enough. Part of her was afraid that every moment she wasn’t holding Chloe was a moment she could disappear.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Max,” Chloe whispered.

“No place I’d rather be,” Max whispered back.

They pulled back just enough to smile at each other. Chloe’s eyes were watering, and Max wasn’t doing much better. This wasn’t the first time it’d happened this week, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. When you’d been apart from someone so important for so long, and only had so much time together, emotions tended to run high. 

As entrancing as Chloe’s eyes were, Max’s gaze wandered down to her lips. They looked so soft and inviting. How would it feel if she were to just lean in and…

Chloe squeezed Max one more time and let go, pulling her back into the half hug so they could keep walking. “We oughta stop by the gas station and grab some chips, I’ve got the munchies.”

Max stumbled along with her in a haze. Had she really just considered… No, it was just a dumb passing urge. It didn’t actually mean anything.

Right?

Tuesday

Chloe had argued with Max before. Even when you were best friends for life with someone, sometimes disagreements just happened, and things were said that one or both sides regretted. They’d always been quick to make up, usually with tears and many, many apologies. 

Some of the bullshit Max was saying now, though? Chloe wasn’t sure she could ever forgive it.

“Look, Chloe,” Max said through grit teeth, her arms crossed as she paced. “You know I respect your opinions, but there comes a point where you’re just factually wrong—”

“Yeah, and we haven’t reached that point yet, hippie,” Chloe fired back with a glare. “Who’s the science nut here?”

“What you’re suggesting is not scientific—”

“According to who, you? There’s plenty of empirical evidence to back me up—”

“If you really fucking stretch it, sure, but this is just ridiculous!”

“Not any more than half the bullshit you’ve come up with!”

“Oh, I’ve come up with some bullshit?”

“Enough to take it all and shove it up your—”

A sudden knock on the door interrupted them. Joyce’s head poked in a moment later, looking concerned. 

“Oh, uh, hey mom,” Chloe said. “I didn’t realize you were home.”

“I just stopped in to grab something during my lunch break… Um, everything okay, girls?”

She was treated to an interesting sight. They had the old corkboard they used to draw on leaning against Chloe’s closet door, covered in pinned index cards. Max was pacing in front of it holding another card, while Chloe sat on her desk chair facing Max. A few clothing items were scattered around the floor between them; they’d thrown them at each other when things got really heated.

“No, your daughter is being an irrational—”

“Actually, mom, things are going great now that you’re here,” Chloe swiveled on her chair to face Joyce. “Help us settle an argument.”

Joyce edged into the room, eyes narrowed at Chloe. “Alright… what about?”

Chloe glanced at Max, who was pointedly avoiding her gaze. “Tell us, do you think a Pop-Tart is a sandwich?”

Joyce blinked a few times like she wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “...err, what?”

“It absolutely is not!” Max exclaimed. “It’s a type of pastry—”

“It’s more of a sandwich than an ‘open-faced sandwich’ is!”

“It has sandwich in the name!”

“The toppings aren’t fully contained by the containing food, that breaks the structure rule we agreed on—”

Joyce looked back and forth between them with a puzzled expression as they kept up the argument, getting steadily louder and more animated. She peered around Max for a closer look at the board. The index cards had the names of various foods written on them, split into two columns labeled “Sandwich” and “Not Sandwich”.  Chloe didn’t agree with some of the placements, as it turned out she and Max had very different definitions of the word.

During a brief pause in their tirades, Joyce said, “Is… this what you’ve been doing all morning?”

“Basically, yeah,” Chloe said. “Max said she didn’t consider hot dogs to be sandwiches, and I couldn’t let such blasphemy stand, and it just kinda spiralled from there. ANYWAY, mom. Pop-Tarts. Sandwich or no?”

Joyce snorted and shook her head. “Oh no, I’m not getting involved. I just came up to tell you that I brought brunch home for you.”

Chloe bolted to her feet, and Max tossed the Pop-Tart card to the floor. They rushed over to Joyce with eager grins. “What’d you bring us?” 

“Is it waffles and omelettes from Two Whales?”

Joyce chuckled at their antics. “Yep, plenty of bacon too. And you have to share it with Max, Chloe.”

Chloe gave an exaggerated sigh. “Ugh, fine.”

“I don’t know,” Max said, crossing her arms. “I’m not sure I want to share bacon with someone who thinks her omelette is a sandwich.”

“We never even discussed—”

“But it was implied when you argued for a quesadilla—”

“How is that even kind of the same as—”

“Girls! Please!” Joyce got between them. “Don’t fight over something as stupid as this!”

They looked at her, then at each other. After a long moment, they both started laughing.

Joyce blinked in surprise. “Uh… good. Glad that’s sorted. Well, food’s downstairs.”

She left them mumbling something about teenagers. Chloe and Max continued to laugh together. Every time they started to calm down, they’d look at the board or at each other and fall into hysterics again. In time they had arms over each other shoulders, keeping each other from falling to the floor with mirth.

Chloe laughed for Joyce’s reactions, but also the absurdity of the situation. Only with Max could she have these kinds of stupid discussions and play it all completely straight. Only with Max could she have completely realistic and fiery arguments with the understanding that it was all in good fun. Only with Max could she blow an entire morning on something so asinine and not consider a single moment of it a waste.

It meant the world to her that Max felt the same.

“Okay,” Max finally managed between chuckles. “Truce until after lunch?”

“Truce. But then we’re coming back up here, and I’m gonna show you the scientific proof that a Pop-Tart is a sandwich.”

Max rolled her eyes, pulling Chloe with her toward the door. “You wish. I let you win the last card, but you’re definitely losing this one.”

Despite their alleged truce, they kept arguing down the stairs. This time they wore nothing but smiles. As they served up their brunch, Chloe got the sense that she would end up needing to concede this one.

She normally hated losing. But when it was to Max, she found she didn’t mind.

Wednesday

“Pssst, Max.”

Max didn’t look up from the comic panel she was sketching.

“Maaaaaaaax.”

Max pointedly continued to outline the speech bubble for this panel, trying to come up with a snappy line of dialogue to go inside it. The heroines had just encountered the main villain in person for the first time, and he’d made a grand and threatening speech. She needed something short but witty, something to steal his thunder and show that they weren’t afraid of—

“Maxine.”

“Never Maxine!” she snapped without thinking, looking up at Chloe’s smug smile.

“Got your attention, didn’t it?” 

They were seated on the floor of Chloe’s room, which was covered in both the remnants of their lunch and the haphazard pages of the comic they’d been working on all day. Despite Chloe being the better artist, Max was doing the sketches for each page while Chloe did the coloring and shading. Though Max was close to finished with the next page, Chloe had only managed to finish one panel of the previous one. Probably because she kept getting distracted by trying to distract Max.

Max scowled at her, then looked back down at her page. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I need details. You promised me some!”

“I did no such thing. In fact, I specifically remember telling you many times that there are no details to share!”

“Yeah, but that was then, and this is now.”

“What does that even—”

“Come oooooon, Max,” Chloe put on her best whiny voice. “There can’t possibly be no one cute in Seattle.”

Max sighed, tapping her pencil against the floor. “I never said there wasn’t. Didn’t I tell you in one of my letters that Fernando was a little cute?”

“Well, yeah, but you’ve also said a bunch that there’s no chemistry there. I wanna hear about heartthrobs!”

Max rolled her eyes. “I’ve also said a bunch that there’s nothing on that front, at all, whatsoever.”

Chloe scoffed. “Oh come on, Max. You could have your pick out of all the guys in your school. None of them caught your eye?”

“I really couldn’t… There’s… There’s a lot of girls way prettier than me. Guys don’t notice me.”

Chloe’s expression softened. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“I mean it, Chloe. Other than Fernando, they don’t really—”

“Forget the guys, Max. I meant…” Chloe paused, seeming… nervous? “You’re… You’re really pretty, Max. I know you don’t think so, but it’s true. Anyone that can’t see that doesn’t deserve you.”

Max blinked at her, mouth hanging slightly open. Chloe thought she was… pretty? She called Max cute a lot, but never pretty. Max blushed and looked back down at the comic, unable to stop herself from smiling like an idiot. “...Thanks, Chlo. I… I think you’re pretty, too.”

“Sh-Shut up,” Chloe muttered. “You don’t have to return every compliment—”

“I mean it, Chloe. You could have all of Arcadia wrapped around your finger if you wanted.”

“Yeah, well… So, anyway, the comic—”

Max smirked at her. “Oh no, it’s your turn now. Who in the Bay, if anyone, is worthy of the eye of Captain Bluebeard herself?”

“Hmph, none of them, obviously.”

She tried to say it in an aloof, exaggerated tone, but Max caught a grain of truth in there too. “Really?”

“Nope. I…” Chloe’s voice dropped, and she looked down at the floor. “I considered just… hooking up with some random guys, after… you know. Just to feel something… and partly to get at my mom. Luckily we started talking again before that… It scares me to think about where I’d be if we hadn’t.”

Max had to bite back an apology for the months following William’s death. She’d already apologized more times than she could count, and Chloe had made it clear she wouldn’t accept it anymore. Though it defied all reason, Chloe really seemed to have forgiven her. That didn’t stop Max from feeling guilty about it.

She also had to restrain the sudden flare of emotion she felt at the idea of Chloe hooking up with random dudes. It constricted her heart and made breathing difficult. But that was a natural reaction, right? She just wanted the best for her friend. It’d be better for her to give herself to a guy who really cared about her… but then why did that thought not seem any better?

“So… you’ve never…?”

“Nope. Never even been kissed.”

Max chuckled nervously, trying not to seem relieved. “Well, we’re in the same boat at least.”

“Heh, I guess so… maybe it’s cause we’re both nerds.”

“Probably… Oh well, fuck them, right? Nerd girls are hot and so are we!”

Chloe laughed and high-fived Max. “Damn right!”

They resumed their drawing in comfortable silence. Or, at least, it seemed to be comfortable for Chloe. For Max it was loaded with thoughts about their conversation. It made perfect sense for someone like Max to not have that experience, but Chloe? She’d always been the braver of them, never afraid to say what she wanted and go for it. So if she’d never done it… did she just not want to? Was there really no one in Arcadia that appealed to her?

Does that thought make me… happy? Why? Am I…

No. No way. Just friendly concern. Chloe deserved someone world class, not the sort of person she’d find in the town she despised so much. 

But then, she did keep daydreaming about…

Not for the first time that week, she found herself staring at Chloe’s face. When had she gotten so… beautiful? The shorter hair really did suit her. And that defiant fire in her eyes, always burning, always ready to stand up for Max… 

Before she could register it, her mouth was moving of its own accord.

“Kiss me.”

 Chloe looked up at her, blinking with confusion. “W-What?”

“We’ve both never kissed before, right?” Max said with far more confidence than she felt. “Well, let’s fix that right now.”

Chloe’s face turned as red as Max’s no doubt was.  “I-I mean— A-Are you sure—”

Before her doubt could seize control and pull her back, Max leaned closer to Chloe. “I dare you. Kiss me now.”

For a long, horrible moment, Max was afraid Chloe would pull away, call her disgusting, ask her to leave. What had gotten into her, asking for such a thing? She should apologize. She opened her mouth to do so.

Instead, Chloe took Max’s face in her hands and brought their lips together.

It was awkward. Sloppy. Their noses kept bumping into each other. Their teeth clacked together. All in all, it was nothing like what Max had come to expect from movies and books.

She hardly cared. Chloe’s lips were every bit as soft as she’d imagined they’d be. Her mind felt filled with TV static, unable to process anything but the giddy feeling rising in her chest. When Chloe pulled away, far too soon, Max repressed a whine. 

Chloe seemed dazed and breathless. “Well… that was… something.”

“Yeah,” Max breathed, feeling a bit out of it herself. “Yeah it was.”

Chloe chuckled and scratched her head. “If I’d known you’d do that with your dare, I might not have tried so hard to win.”

“What would you have done with it?” Max asked somewhat lamely.

“Honestly? I’d… probably have dared you to kiss me, too.”

“Oh… I guess it all worked out, then.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

They sat there staring at each other for a long minute. Max’s heart was still thundering in her chest. God, this was so awkward now… and yet, she couldn’t regret doing it. In fact, she was already starting to daydream about what another one might feel like.

And Chloe said she’d have done the same thing… Did she really mean it? Had she liked it too?

“Anyway,” Chloe finally broke the silence by picking up her pencils and rearranging her comic pages. “I’d better try to catch up to you, or you’ll be hogging all the snacks while I finish the last few pages!”

“Uh, yeah,” Max mumbled, getting her own pages in order. “You’d better be quick about it, or all the Cheetos are mine!”

They went back to work in a not-quite-comfortable silence. Max’s lines became rougher than normal, distracted as she was. She’d thought one kiss would be enough to satisfy the curiosity she’d been feeling through the week. Yet all it seemed to have done was increased her yearning. She’d have to get a better handle on that, lest she ruin what time they had left. 

Best friends did a lot of things together, and she and Chloe were closer than most, but kissing? That crossed a line. She shouldn’t be wanting to kiss her best friend, no matter how kind and pretty and wonderful she was.

...Right?

Thursday

Chloe couldn’t have predicted her late-afternoon meltdown.

It’d been a great day up until that point. She and Max had spent the morning being awkward on account of their kiss the previous day (which Chloe wouldn’t admit she’d been thinking about constantly), but by lunch they were back to their usual antics and laughter. Their bond was too strong to be weakened by something as stupid as a kiss. No matter how nice, sweet, soft, and intoxicating said kiss had been.

They’d begun indulging in one of their old favorite pastimes, constructing a fort around the living room couch and christening it as their pirate ship. The appeal hadn’t left as they got older; if anything their teenage ingenuity just let them make a more elaborate fort. With cardboard boxes and some markers, they’d drawn portholes, cannons, masts and flags all along the hull of the “ship.” 

Maybe she’d have been embarrassed to do such things around anyone else. With Max, everything was as easy as breathing. It was like they’d never grown up at all.

“Shiver me timbers, she be almost ready to sail, First Mate Silver!” Chloe said with her best exaggerated pirate voice, readjusting her old and flimsy captain’s hat.

“Aye, soon she be plundering the Seven Seas!” Max responded in kind, looking adorable in a weathered eye patch. “She just be needing a banner on the main mast, Captain!”

“I be prepping her last flag now, matey! Ye must fetch our provisions, so we can cast off!”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Max gave a sloppy salute, then rushed off to the kitchen to fetch the snacks. Their cast off would entail watching some of their favorite pirate movies, starting with Curse of the Black Pearl. 

Grinning like an idiot, Chloe finished up the final details of their ship’s jolly roger flag. As she turned to place it on the main mast (a wrapping paper tube that had been wedged between the back cushions) her eyes caught on the faded but still clearly visible carpet stain next to the couch.

She smiled at it fondly, chuckling to herself at the memory. She and Max had thought they were being so sneaky, getting a taste of her parents’ wine. They’d been a bit too excited though. Hours of panicked scrubbing hadn’t been enough to get rid of the evidence. Joyce had rarely shouted so much at either of them, but even worse had been the silent disapproval from… her dad… 

His face. His smile. His lame jokes. His soft words of encouragement. His warm hugs. Even his disapproval.

Gone.

Just like that, Chloe fell to pieces.

All the grief came rushing back in a torrent so fast it forced her to her knees. It felt like her heart was trying to tear itself apart. She tried to choke back the first few sobs, but couldn’t hold the tide. It was all she could do not to curl up the floor and wail like an infant.

Max came rushing back into the living room, skidding to her knees in front of Chloe. “Chloe! What happened? What’s wrong?”

Great. Just great. They’d been having such a good time. It wasn’t enough for Chloe to ruin a fantastic day, she just had to ruin it for Max, too. And why? For something she thought she’d gotten over already? For something so long past she should be over it by now? Max had come for a good time, not for… this. Some friend she was.

“Chlo, talk to me, please.” Max gently put her hands on Chloe’s shoulders. “What is it?”

It took Chloe a minute to get her sobs under enough control to manage a weak response. “D… Dad…”

She closed her eyes tightly and looked away, letting the sobs come back. There. Now Max should call her a baby, tell her to grow up and get over it. Maybe she needed that. 

“Oh, Chloe…” Max pulled Chloe close, wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug. Chloe’s breath hitched.

“I-I should be over this,” Chloe choked into Max’s shoulder. “I’m so pathetic—”

“No,” Max said firmly, squeezing Chloe tight. “You’re human. You’re allowed to hurt. You’re allowed to cry. Grief like this doesn’t have a time limit.”

“I’m s-sorry,” Chloe sniffed between gasps. “We w-were having such a good time—”

“Don’t be sorry,” Max said softly, rubbing Chloe’s back with one hand. “I’d rather help you through this than let you suffer alone. No fun is worth that.”

Max. Sweet, kind, gentle Max. Of course she wouldn’t push Chloe away, or downplay her feelings. Chloe felt awful for even having thought such things. Chloe threw her arms around Max and pulled her even closer as a fresh wave of sobs wracked her trembling body.

“I miss him so much,” Chloe cried, burying her face in the comforting mess of Max’s hair.

“I do too,” Max said, sounding like she was on the edge of tears herself. “It’s not the same here without him.”

“Why did he have to leave? Why couldn’t he have just stayed home? Why? He was good! He didn’t deserve—” Her voice broke on the next word. Max trembled against her with sobs of her own. Great, now she’d made Max cry, too.

“I don’t know, Chlo,” Max choked, squeezing Chloe again. “It’s not fair. None of it’s fair…”

They held each other as they cried there, kneeling beside the pirate ship couch, for several minutes more. In spite of Max’s warm embrace and familiar smells, Chloe cried harder than she could remember crying since they’d buried him. That, more than anything else, told Chloe just how broken she still was about it. 

Or… maybe it was because of Max she cried as hard as she did. She’d mourned her father with Joyce and on her own, but never with Max, save for a few charged moments in a few calls. And didn’t Max have just as much right to mourn him as Chloe? William had set up their first playdate when they were kindergarteners. He’d taken them to their favorite parks and sightseeing spots. He’d played the big bad guy in so many of their pirate adventures. Most importantly, he’d taught them how to value and cherish their bond. Without him, there might not be a Max and Chloe forever promise. 

In a way, Max was the biggest piece of him she had left.

“Don’t leave me, Max,” she pleaded, clutching to Max like she might vanish any moment. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never, Chloe,” Max matched the tightness of Chloe’s grip. “I’m here. I’m here.”

“For now, but in a couple days—”

“Only for a little while, okay? As soon as we’re done with school, we’re leaving together. And we’ll have our letters and calls, okay? I’m never leaving you again, even when we’re apart. You hear me, Price? Never.”

She said it with such conviction. Such passion. One of Chloe’s biggest fears was that everyone she loved would leave her eventually, no matter what they said. But when Max promised her like that? She believed it.

“Thank you,” Chloe whispered.

“Always, Chlo,” Max whispered back. “Always.”

Friday

Max usually found the sunset beautiful. She had entire pages in her albums full of random scenery during the Golden Hour. Was it a bit cliched? Perhaps, but she didn’t particularly care. She’d take pictures of whatever she wanted, damn what anyone else thought. 

She’d taken some of this one, but her heart just wasn’t in it. This sunset marked one day closer to the end of her time with Chloe.

She tried to shove that thought out of her mind and enjoy it while she could. The golden pallor it cast over Arcadia Bay’s beach was breathtaking, as was the shimmering of the tide gently lapping against the shore. She aimed her camera and got another good shot, taking the photo and gently shaking it. Chloe peered over her shoulder at it.

“Looks good, Maximilian!”

Max looked back and raised an eyebrow. “It hasn’t even developed yet.”

“I know. I don’t need to see it to know it’ll look good. You have the gift,” she did jazz hands and put dramatic emphasis on the words.

“Is it like the gift you have for getting on my nerves?”

“That’s not a gift, that’s a calling. Two completely different things.”

Max snorted, though she was grinning. They kept walking down the beach, enjoying the feeling of warm sand between their toes. The wind coming off the Bay was a bit cold, but aside from that it was a perfect day. 

At least, it would be, if I didn’t have to leave soon… 

She’d been a bit self conscious about asking Chloe to come out here, worrying they shouldn’t be wasting their time on picture taking sessions and walks when their time was so short. But Chloe had agreed eagerly. She seemed to really mean it when she said that all she needed was Max to have a good time, a sentiment that Max returned.

We could have some other good times together, too… She thought in spite of herself, thinking again of their all too brief kiss. She shook her head to banish the thought, though it was getting more difficult. She’d resolved to avoid such thoughts, or the disturbing reasons behind them, until after she left Arcadia. She would not make these last days awkward for them.

But— Damn it, that would be so much easier if Chloe wasn’t so damn pretty, with that smile and those eyes and the sun reflecting off her hair…

Chloe caught her looking and smirked. “See something you like, Caulfield?”

Max pointedly looked over Chloe’s shoulder, then all around them. “Mmmm, nope, nothing I like around here. Just a bunch of sand, the water, and a major pain in my ass.”

Chloe laughed. The sound sent butterflies flapping in Max’s stomach. Stop that! She thought angrily at them. It’s just Chloe, it’s just Chloe… 

She was starting to think that might be the problem. 

“I’ve missed this,” Chloe said, her tone suddenly somber. “The two of us, walking around, just hanging out, not a care in the world.”

“I know… I’ve made so many new friends in Seattle, but… being around them is work sometimes, you know? I come home from hanging out with them and I need a hefty meal and a nap. I can’t just be with them like I can with you.”

“None of the big city sights make up for it? They’ve probably got better than this shitty excuse for a beach…”

Max looked over at her again. The image was breathtaking. Her face was tilted at such an angle that it caught the sunlight perfectly, the highlights and shadows accenting what beauty was already there. Her eyes shimmered with hints of gold amongst the blue as she looked at Max, a peaceful smile on her lips. 

Max almost reached for her camera, but no lens could possibly capture the perfection in front of her.

“No,” she mumbled. “Nothing compares.”

Chloe snorted. “If you say so, hippie. I’d still like to see them for myself. When I come visit you, you have to take me sightseeing!”

Max grinned at the idea of Chloe coming to Seattle. “Of course! I even know the best pizza and nacho stands in town.”

“Oh fuck yes. We’re gonna get fat on big city food.”

“I mean, I’ve been there for over two years already, and I haven’t—”

“That’s cause you don’t have encouragement. Don’t doubt my pizza eating powers, Maxalot.”

“It’s not doubt in your eating, it’s faith in your metabolism.”

“True, how else could I have this rocking bod?” She ran her hands down her sides for emphasis.

Oh god. Don’t look. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it…

Luckily, Chloe didn’t seem to notice how hot Max’s face had gotten. She kicked absently at some shells poking out of the sand, eyes on the horizon. “I like how small I feel here.”

“You like feeling small?”

“Yeah, a little,” she nudged a particularly large shell with her sandal. “It’s… nice to remember that your problems aren’t the end of everything, you know? The world goes on.”

Max thought about that. “Some people might find that scary.”

“Not me. It makes me feel better.”

Max put her camera in her bag, then went over to stand beside her and watch the horizon. The ocean stretched out over incredibly vast distances no person could claim. Against it, Max was less than a speck of dust. For a moment it gave her existential vertigo.

But then she applied Chloe’s way of thinking over it. If she was small… that meant all her worries were too, right? School, her anxiety, her separation from Chloe, none of those things would break her. All of them could be solved, in time. It was a little calming. She could see why Chloe found it appealing.

But… if she accepted that she was small, and her problems were too… that meant so were her blessings.

“I can’t think like that.”

Chloe looked at her. “Oh? Why not?”

“I… I refuse to accept that what we have is small, that it doesn’t matter. That you don’t matter.” Max found herself hugging Chloe for what must’ve been the thousandth time that week. “You may be small to the world, but not to me. Never to me, Chloe Price.”

It took Chloe a couple moments to hug her back. “That… that means a lot to me, Max. And so do you.”

This… this feeling I get when she says that, when she holds me… Is it…

No. No. Not until she was safely away. She would not ruin the time they still had together, or this moment.

Of course, the moment was ruined anyway when Chloe stuck a handful of sand in Max’s hair.

“Chloe!” Max shrieked as Chloe giggled. She wriggled out of Chloe’s grip and frantically brushed the grains off her head. “What was that for?”

“A sneak attack of course!” Chloe said as she knelt to scoop up more sand. “Sandball fight!”

Max managed to duck beneath her next attack, swearing and dropping her camera bag. “Oh, you’ll regret that, Price!”

“Prove it, hippie!”

It didn’t take long before Max was laughing along with Chloe as they lobbed clumps of damp sand at each other. Whatever she felt, she knew that Chloe made her happy, could make her feel like a kid again, could make all her troubles and cares disappear no matter how big they seemed. 

For what little time they still had, that was enough.

Saturday

Chloe stared into an infinite abyss, and prayed that dawn would never come.

Max lay beside her in the grass, looking up at the stars with her. Hundreds, thousands of them twinkled up there, many so far away as to be incomprehensible to the human imagination. Trying to take in the vastness of it all was a good way to get existential vertigo, even more so than looking out at the Bay. 

They’d stargazed in Chloe’s backyard before, but never this late. Had to be around midnight by now. As tired as Chloe got, the last thing she wanted to do was sleep.

As soon as she did, morning would come, and Max would leave.

“You know I’d stay if I could,” Max said softly.

“I know,” Chloe replied, her throat tight. “I… I could go with you.”

“What about Blackwell? If you make it in—”

“Fuck Blackwell. I could get some work in Seattle, waiting tables or something, pay rent to your parents—”

“Chloe.”

She sighed heavily. “I know, I know… I just…”

“I know. Me too.”

In lieu of a hug, Max found Chloe’s hand and squeezed it. Chloe squeezed back, but Max made no move to pull her hand away or let go of Chloe.

Her pulse kicked up a notch. Was her hand getting clammy? It definitely was. Could Max tell? Oh god, how mortifying would that be?

“It was a good week though, right?” Max asked.

“The best. So much fun, dumb bullshit—”

“Oh, like me beating your ass in Mario Kart?”

Chloe could hear the smirk on that adorkable face. “I still say you got lucky.”

“Oh? And what about the other seven times I won?”

“Very, very lucky.”

“Hey, look at it this way, you can use the time I’m gone to train for the rematch.”

“True… Though, I’ll probably need to enter indentured servitude to Joyce to pay for all the Two Whales and snacks we ate…”

“Oh god, good point. I think we went through like what, ten pounds of Cheetos?”

“That’s being generous. I don’t think there are any Cheetos left in Arcadia.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll send you some as soon as I get ho— back to Seattle.”

Chloe didn’t miss the sudden change of term there. She wondered at it, and considered asking Max. But then again… maybe it was better if Chloe could believe what she wanted it to mean. 

“So what was the highlight of the week for you?” Chloe asked.

“Easily your reaction when I first got here. The look on your face was… priceless.”

Chloe facepalmed. “You did not just—”

“Yes I did, and I’d do it again. You were so excited to see me… it was cute. And it made me feel special.”

Damn it. Chloe couldn’t stay mad at her when she said shit like that. “You are special, Max… even if your jokes are terrible.”

“You just wish you had jokes as good as mine.”

“In your dreams, Caulfield.”

They laughed and squeezed each others’ hands, but there was an undercurrent of anxiety to their laughter. Why does this have to end, it seemed to say. Why can’t we just stay here together, forever?

Because nothing good can last, that disgusting voice in the back of Chloe’s mind answered.

Not us, Chloe insisted. You can split us apart, but we will last. I know we will.

And maybe… eventually…

“What about you?” Max’s voice cut off that chain of thought. “What was the highlight for you?”

Chloe smirked. “Oh, that’s easy. You see, I got to kiss this really cute girl—”

“Oh my god,” Max let go of Chloe’s hand, presumably to cover her face with both hands.

“And she was really into it, in fact, she even asked me to kiss her—”

“Please, shut up,” Max groaned.

Chloe laughed and gave Max a minute to calm down. She smiled when Max reached for her hand again. “Yeah… It was my first ever kiss, and I’m glad I got to share it with someone so special to me. I’m really lucky to have met that girl.”

Max was quiet for a moment, her hand fidgeting in Chloe’s. “R-Really? Well… I got to share my first kiss with someone special, too.”

“Mmmm… sounds like a pretty good week to me.”

“It was… I doubt it’ll ever be topped.”

“Oh, it will, once we see each other again, right?”

“Damn right.”

They kept holding hands and staring at the distant stars. Chloe kept hoping for a shooting star to flash across the void so she could wish for time to freeze in this moment. Or, even better, to wake up at the beginning of this wonderful week and do it all again… But then, she supposed, it would stop being special. 

Or maybe it wouldn’t. I think, no matter how much time we had together, I would cherish every moment with Max the same.

Because I know what it’s like to live without her, and I can barely call it living.

Even so, these last few hours were precious beyond measure. She had no way of knowing when they would next see each other. Their calls and letters couldn’t compare to the feeling of holding her, seeing her smile, making her laugh. In fact, as good as holding her hand was…

Chloe let go of Max. Her protests were quickly silenced when Chloe shimmied right up against her and threw that arm around her shoulders. She could barely make out Max’s smile in the starlight as she lifted her head to let Chloe’s arm under it. She threw her arm up and around Chloe too. It took some fidgeting to get them both comfortable, but the result was much better.

No… If there ever comes a day where I take this for granted, that’s how I’ll know that Chloe Price is either dead, or may as well be.

Sunday

Max had hoped and prayed against all odds that the bus wouldn’t come. Chloe prayed right along with her. It was all in vain.

Max watched with tears in her eyes as it rounded the corner, heading in her direction. Coming to steal away her joy, her reason for laughing and smiling. Irrationally, Chloe found herself hating the man who drove it. Why did he have to show up on time? Could he not have been one minute later, or gotten a flat tire or something to delay him further?

Max turned to face Chloe. They embraced tightly, the force of Chloe’s hug squeezing the breath right out of Max. 

“Call me as soon as you get home, okay?”

“The instant I get there. Promise.”

“And I expect a letter from you within the week!”

Max laughed. “Snail mail willing! That’s not on me.”

“Then do your best. And it better have a selfie!”

“I’ll throw in two, just for you.”

“You spoil me, Caulfield.”

“You deserve it, Price.”

The bus pulled up to the curb. Its doors slid open. Max lingered in Chloe’s arms for a few moments longer, then pulled away. It was like pulling away from the warmth of fire in a raging blizzard. 

“Until next time, Captain,” Max said with a sad smile.

Chloe gave a sloppy salute with a tearful smile of her own. “Smooth sailing to ye, matey.”

Max picked up her bags, took a deep breath, and stepped aboard the bus. She paused at the top of the steps to cast a lingering look back at Chloe, who gave her a thumbs up. The door slid closed, cutting them off once again.

Max hurried to the back of the bus, heedless of knocking her bags against the other seats. As the bus shifted into motion, she pressed her face against the back window. Chloe was still standing there, crying as she waved. Max waved back, not caring who saw or heard her own crying. She stayed there, watching and waving, until the bus rounded a corner, and Chloe was gone from sight.

Chloe lowered her arm as soon as the bus was gone. Behind her, she felt Joyce put a gentle hand on her shoulder. Chloe touched it and nodded in thanks, trying to blink away the tears.

She’s gone…

When she got back home, Chloe immediately went to her room and curled up in bed. The remains of their fun were scattered around, from loose comic pages to the sandwich chart. In spite of the hollow ache she felt, she couldn’t help but smile.

Max curled up in the back seat of the bus, watching Arcadia until it disappeared behind the trees and hills. She took out several of the polaroids she’d taken of their antics, gently brushing her thumb across an excellent image of Chloe’s face. Even as tears dripped onto the photo, she let herself smile.

For a long while after, they’d both sit or lay locked in their own minds, playing back every moment a thousand times. Their most intimate moments were of particular interest, each tender word worthy of special consideration. And, of course, there was the kiss. They both relived that more than they knew was healthy.

Each girl was searching for something, buried in the laughter and the smiles. An answer to the cauldrons of confusing feelings that swirled deep within. The answer lay in the intimate moments, the tender words, and, naturally, the kiss. 

They finally found it, hours after their parting.

Oh my god, Max thought as the scenery rushed past the bus window.

“Oh fuck,” Chloe whispered in the dark confines of her room.

I… think I…

“I… I totally…”

“Have a crush on her.”

Chapter Text

Dear Macks,

I have big news. You’re gonna yell at me for not telling you right away. But A, you kept your visit a few months back a secret, so shut up, and B, I don’t really have a point B, I just kinda felt like telling you over letter would be more special or whatever. Why am I explaining this to you? I don’t have a reason for half the shit I do. If you want logic applied to me, you’d better come back down here and slap some into me. (There’s a few other things you could slap while you’re at it)

Fuck, where was I? Oh right, big news. Well, it’s not that big, no reason to freak out at all, but anyway:

I GOT INTO BLACKWELL! ON A SCHOLARSHIP!!

YES YOU HEARD RIGHT, YOUR GOOD BITCH IS GOING TO BLACKWELL FOR FREE!

Dude I was like, cheering and jumping around when I opened the acceptance letter. Mom and David looked at me like I was nuts until I told them, then Mom was cheering too. Even David cracked a smile and told me “Good job!” The Tinman does have a heart!

God it feels so fucking weird to be this hyped about something school related, but after everything I just really needed a win I think. A win I definitely wouldn’t have gotten without all your help and support, Maxisaurus. Seriously. You’re like 90% of the reason I was even in consideration, much less actually accepted! They should accept you too while they’re at it.

That would actually be the most amazing thing ever, us both at Blackwell. Amazing for us, at least. I’m not sure they’d be prepared to handle both of us at once. We’d rule that place inside five minutes.

I gotta keep this one a bit short cause I’ve got a bunch of stuff to sign to finalize shit, but I can’t wait to hear your reaction! I hope you’re proud of me. (I know you are, but I’d still love to hear you say it.)

Your local Academic-Scholarly-Genius-Prodigy,

Chloe MD PhD DDS

P.S. You know what’d be even better to find in the mail? Nudes

[Attached to the letter is a photo of Chloe jumping with excitement, a piece of creased paper held in both hands.]

Dear Klo-Ee,

HOLY SHIT YOU GOT INTO BLACKWELL!

I KNOW WE TALKED ON THE PHONE ABOUT THIS ALREADY BUT HOLY SHIT I AM SO PROUD OF YOU!

Okay so don’t take my “Holy shits” to mean I’m at all surprised. I always knew you could do it if you really tried. And god damn Chloe, you have been trying so hard lately. I’m so so glad to see someone other than me finally acknowledge that. Even David! That’s like hell freezing over. That’s how good you are, Chloe Price. You froze hell over.

I’m glad to have helped you through all this, but you really need to give yourself more credit. I gave you some nudges here and there, but the hardest parts were all you. Remember what we talked about, how we’d stop putting ourselves down while lifting the other up? Work on seeing yourself the way I do. YOU earned this, Chloe. This is YOUR achievement. Be proud of yourself, as proud as I am.

And you’re absolutely right, Blackwell could not hope to contain the awesomeness of us reunited. I’m still hoping we can show it exactly how ill-prepared it is, someday. I do want to apply to Blackwell too, they have an excellent photography program. But, uh. I kinda need a portfolio first, and the vast majority of my pictures are of you. Gotta try to diversify a bit first, I think. Those crusty old farts in admissions probably can’t appreciate the art of Chloe photos like I can.

Then again, maybe that can be my photographer’s calling, making everyone see the artistry of Chloe photos. (And before you ask, no, no nudes.)

Anyway! I also have to keep this short since I have bunch of other shit to write (essays, uggggggh). I’ll say it again for those in the back: I’m super proud of you, and you rock! Sending you a little congrats gift, hope you like it! (No, not nudes.)

Your Number One Cheerleader,

Mx Clfld

[Attached to the letter is an artsy selfie of Max blowing a kiss, along with a triple pack of Chloe’s favorite gum.]

Dear Cauliflower,

God, I’m a bit late in writing this up aren’t I? Sorry for the delay Maxi, just been a super hectic time over here. So much crap I can’t talk about on the phone. Where do I even start?

Well first I should say thanks for the gum! I uh, might have burned most of it trying to make friends on my first day at Blackwell. The wild high schooler can smell an open pack of gum like a bloodhound apparently. 

It’s going decent on that front, for the most part. Steph is there, which is super cool and helped calm my nerves a bit. This girl Kate is really nice, if a bit of a bible thumper. Not sure how well I’d have gotten along with her a couple years ago. Of course there’s the preppy rich bitches, god do not even get me started on Victoria and her goons. But like, everyone else there pales compared to Rachel.

Did I tell you about Rachel on the phone? I don’t think I did. Well let me tell you, Rachel is… She’s really something. I’m not sure if I can do her justice with just words, but let me give it a shot.

You know that one girl that’s in every school where everyone just knows how good they are, and she can get along with everyone, and do everything, and be everything? For Blackwell, that’s Rachel. She’s in the Vortex Club — that’s this weird exclusive rich kids club that honestly seems like a scam of some kind — but she still treats all the other kids kindly, doesn’t act stuck up like the others. She plays sports, she does drama, she has her fingers in everything at the school basically. And yet somehow, she always manages to find time for me.

God, it was a bit crazy how we first became friends. I’d kinda seen her around at school, knew her name, didn’t really try to approach her at all. One day out of the blue, we bump into each other getting our weed from the same dude, she acts surprised that I smoke weed, and I’m SUPER surprised that she smokes weed, cause she doesn’t seem like the type, you know? We chat, turns out we have some of the same taste in music, she says we should hang out some time. I thought it was one of those “oh let’s hang out soon” things where you never actually hang out, but next thing I know we’re thrashing at a Firewalk concert and I’ve got her number and we’re chilling out in this little rundown building at that junkyard outside town. Super cool place, super private. We’ve been talking about bringing in some decorations, a heater, little things to turn it into our secret hideaway. It reminds me a lot of that treehouse we had in the woods!

We’ve talked a lot, about a lot of things. I feel like she actually listens to me and understands me in a way that no one other than you has ever managed to. And I want to understand her the same way. We really connected over how Arcadia Bay seems to have it out for us, how much we both want to get out of this dump. She wants to head down to LA and make it big, and the way she talks about it, I really believe she could do it. I can’t wait for you to meet her, you two would get along great. You could use her as a model for your portfolio! That could be the breakthrough you both need! And trust me when I say, holy fuck Rachel will make a great model. She’s, like… gorgeous. Like, wow. I’ll attach a selfie of us, you’re not gonna believe me.

And… Alright, you didn’t hear this from me, but. There’s been some shit involving Rachel’s dad, too. Like, scary shit, since he’s the DA and all. I had to practically beg her not to get involved. I think she almost hated me for that, but I think she appreciated having someone to vent to more. It made me feel good to be that kind of friend to someone, like I am for you. It’s made me feel so much more comfortable with going to Blackwell, knowing that I’ll have someone there to do the same for me if I need it, you know?

Other than all that, school’s as boring as ever. Keeping my grades up though, gotta maintain my scholarship! Luckily Rachel is super smart and makes a good study buddy. Even David can’t find many reasons to complain these days. He really seemed to like Rachel when I brought her over. If I were an optimist, I’d say he’s mellowing out, but really I think Rachel just has that effect on people.

Oh, before I forget, happy late birthday! You old fart, you. I took the liberty of drawing the next TWO comic pages, just in case your ancient hands can’t manage it. Included some more film for you, too. To be used for Max selfies only! Or nudes. Then again, nudes are selfies, right? Perhaps you should send some of both so I can compare them.

Trapped in Blackhell,

Eolhc

[Attached to the letter is a selfie of Chloe arm-in-arm with a tall, beautiful blonde girl, both holding up peace signs.]

Dear Chloe,

Glad to hear Blackwell is everything you wanted. School here kinda sucks, as usual. Still got Kristen and Fernando at least. 

Thanks for the film. Was starting to run out. You might have to wait a bit for a selfie though. Got a lot of homework to catch up on.

Should get back to that now. Hope things keep going well for you.

Sincerely,

Max

Chloe walked in a circle around her and Rachel’s small junkyard hideout. Then she walked another. And another. She had to be up to a few dozen by this point. Okay, maybe more like a few hundred. Not that she’d been keeping count or anything. Okay, she had been, because it was either that, or reread the sheet of paper clutched in her left hand for the hundredth time.

Every time she did, the pit in her gut became a bit deeper. Pacing was the better option.

“You’re gonna break the floor if you keep this up,” Rachel noted, lounging on the old futon they’d dragged inside. She looked amazing, as always, with her flawless hair and her impeccable fashion sense. Chloe loved her flannels and her blue feather earring. God, Chloe needed more flannels for herself. Max might like those. 

Thinking about Max just made Chloe pace faster. “I must have fucked up somehow, right? I mean, even during busy times she’s never sent anything this short. And she sounds so annoyed in what she did write. And we’ve barely talked on the phone at all in the last week, and… Am I crazy? Am I reading too much into this? Help me out here, Rach.”

“Well, jury’s still out on crazy,” Rachel said with a soft chuckle. “I kinda need more context. What exactly have you said to her lately? What was your last letter about?”

Chloe frowned. “Well, not much I guess. I’ve mostly just been talking about school. How classes are, how Blackwell in general is. I’ve told her a bit about you, too, I guess. That’s basically it.”

“A bit about me, huh? Nothing too… revealing, I hope?” Rachel said with a wink.

“No, no! I might tell Max everything, but I don’t tell her everything.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Yes it does! Ugh. I hate you. Anyway, yeah, I told her how we first started hanging out, told her you could model for her photography. I hyped up how much I want you two to meet. I thought she’d be happy about me getting another friend at Blackwell.”

Rachel’s expression was thoughtful. “Hmm… Well, you probably made her jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what?”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Chlo?”

“Seriously, what’s there to be jealous of? Blackwell’s not that great.”

Rachel gave her that withering look she always gave when Chloe was being a dumbass. She got to use it a lot. “Well, if you hyped me up that much… she probably thinks you’re replacing her with me.”

Chloe blinked. “Replacing her? She knows I’d never replace her. Besides, I can have two best friends, right?”

“...Yes, but… Ugh, Chloe. She doesn’t write to you because she wants to know about other people. She wants to know about you, how you’re doing. I’m sure we will be good friends when we meet, but until then, what does she care what I’m like? Besides, don’t you think she might read all that and think it’s saying, ‘Look how great this other person is, I’m having such a great time with them instead of you.’ ”

Chloe paused to consider that. Yes, that was something Max might think, even if she’d never say it. That girl had no self esteem whatsoever. Chloe should have thought about that. Rachel had never even met Max, and she’d been more thoughtful than Chloe. Stupid of her, stupid!

“So how do I fix this?” Chloe pleaded, resuming her pacing.

Rachel pondered that for a moment. “In your next letter, make it clear how special she is to you. Instead of how excited you are for her to meet me, tell her you’re excited for me to meet her. Talk about school stuff, but say how much better it would be if she was around. She knows how much you care, I’m sure. You just need to remind her of it.”

It wasn’t hard for Chloe to come up with reasons why Max was special. She could give an unprepared two hour seminar about it. And it would be her downfall, because she couldn’t deny it anymore. Though she’d tried to smother the feelings since Max’s visit, they just wouldn’t go down. 

She was crushing on Max. Hard.

Problem was, she had no idea what to do about it, or if she even should. Max was probably straight, and even if she wasn’t, why the hell would she feel that way about Chloe? Chloe treasured their friendship far too much to ever risk it. Though she told Max everything in their letters, this one thing she would keep to herself, for however long it took to fade.

One thing she could tell Max, and always would, was just how much she meant to Chloe. She’d have to word it carefully to avoid giving her newfound feelings away, but that was the benefit of writing, being able to edit things before she sent it. Maybe she could run it all by Rachel first…

No. These letters are ours, only ours. They’re gonna stay that way, however great Rachel is. Whenever Max reads my words, they’re going to be mine, no matter how stupid they end up being.

Nodding to herself, Chloe finally stopped pacing, anxiety fading just a bit. “Okay… okay. I think I know what to say next… Thanks, Rach.”

“Always, Chlo,” Rachel said with a radiant smile. “You wanna light up quick, take some of the edge off?”

Tempting as that was, Chloe shook her head. “Actually, can you take me home now? I want to get started on my reply.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, but stood up and grabbed her keys. “Must be a hell of a speech you’ve got in mind.”

“Something like that…”

Dear Max,

So, we’re closing on midterms here at Blackwell. Things are going well enough I suppose. Grades are staying up for the most part, David’s being less of a prick, keeping busy on my off hours. Even started playing in a D&D campaign with Steph and her friend Mikey. Surprisingly fun shit, actually. I’m a Barbarian named Barb. (I thought it was funny, okay? Sue me.)

But you know what it’s all missing? You.

Being at Blackwell makes me think of you a lot. The architecture looks straight out of those fancy college brochures you always used to look through for inspiration. There’s this moment in the early morning where as you go up the front steps, you can catch the sun silhouetting the central tower as it comes above the hills. Campus has lots of little pockets of nature, clumps of green trees where squirrels climb and flowerbeds where honeybees flit around. When the Golden Hour comes, it’s breathtaking. Since campus sits up higher than everything between it and the bay, there’s nothing blocking the sunset, and everything is golden.

I’ve taken a few pictures for you. I’m still an amateur with anything that isn’t selfies, but I like to think I picked a few things up watching you. And I do like watching you, a lot. When you’re behind a camera, with that little scrunched up look on your face like the whole world is yours to capture, it’s like watching a master artist at work. It’s inspiring, honestly. I hope I find a calling that I can be so passionate about one day.

I think you’d really like it here, Max, and not just for the photo ops. I’ve asked around about the photography program here, and the people in it seem to love it a lot. I know it’s something of a nationally renowned program, but it’s another thing to hear it directly from the participants, you know? They all get really into it too — I had no idea there were so many different subsets of photography subjects and methods! You’d be a great fit, and you could probably show all these other nerds a thing or too!

There’s my bias showing, but can you blame me? You’re pretty rad, Super Max. I’ve told Rachel and Steph so much about you, I can’t wait for them to meet you. Which I hope can be soon. I miss you so much, Max. Like, more than I can say here without you wanting to tear this letter to shreds and file a restraining order. 

I’ve asked Mom for some part time work at Two Whales to make a bit of money. I’m gonna save most of it for a trip up to Seattle to see you. Not sure if I’ll be able to manage a full week, or a big surprise entrance, but frankly I don’t care as long as I get to see you again. You can show me around Seattle all you want, or we can hide in your room and game the whole time. Anything is good with me if I’m with you.

Have I mentioned how much I miss you? Cause I miss you. Like a lot. So much it hurts. Your stupid dorky face and your dumb jokes and your hippie fashion. I wanna hug you so bad. Or kiss you again. Provided you can beat me at Mario Kart again. (I’ve been practicing!)

I could go on (and have - the first draft of this letter was seven pages) but your ego doesn’t need THAT much help. I think you get the idea. If you don’t, call me and I’ll gladly read the thesis to you. 

Enjoy the attachments - I found them when Joyce was digging through some old school things. Thought you might like to have them. You’re into that kind of sappy crap, aren’t you? I’m too cool for it. I’d never have my copy laminated and framed, not ever.

My first shift at the diner starts soon, guess I should prep for that. Don’t worry, I won’t start any fights. Emphasis on START.

[The next line has been so weathered by eraser burn that the paper has almost torn through. It is now covered by a thick layer of white-out.]

I miss you, Max.

Sexily yours,

Doctor of Maxology, Chloe Price

[Attached to the letter are several Polaroids of Blackwell and the views around it. An extra sheet of old, crumpled paper is also included, containing an essay titled “My Friend Max” in very sloppy handwriting.]

Max finished rereading the letter for the seventh time, hard as that was through the blur of tears. 

So many special, heartfelt words. All for her. Rachel was barely mentioned this time. And the essay from elementary! Little Chloe had many things to say about Little Max, and they brought a wide smile to her face. She’d save this with her other letters. In a way, it was like the very first one.

“Good things, then?” Kristen’s voice made Max jump. She’d been so absorbed in the letter that she’d forgotten she wasn’t alone.

“Uh, yeah! Great things. She… she wrote about how much she misses me.”

Kristen smiled. “Nice. Does this mean you’ll stop moping?”

Max wiped her eyes and put on her best glare. “I have not been moping—”

“You’ve been practically catatonic since the last letter,” Kristen said, sitting up on Max’s bed to face where Max sat at her desk. They’d intended this as a study night, but the arrival of Chloe’s letter had put the brakes on that plan. “Seems like that’s been resolved. What was that about anyway?”

Max bit her lip. How much could she say without completely giving herself away? She’d told no one of her crush, and she needed it to stay that way. If it stayed in her head, then eventually it would go away without causing major problems. Right?

“You don’t have to tell me, Max,” Kristen said softly. “I know this stuff is personal for you. I’ll listen if you want to talk, though.”

“I do, I’m just… trying to figure out how to say it.” She took a deep breath, and decided to just give the most basic facts. “So… her last letter, she talked a lot about this new friend she’d made, this girl named Rachel. How awesome she is, how pretty she is, how much they connect. I guess I was feeling… replaced, a little? I don’t know.”

Kristen stared at her for a few seconds. “Permission to speak freely?”

“Uh, sure?”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

Max blinked. “I don’t disagree, but why specifically?”

“You’ve always said - many many times, I might add - that you and Chloe are unbreakable. But she mentions meeting one new girl and suddenly you’re completely off her radar? Doesn’t matter how great this chick is, she’s got nothing on what you two have. I think you know that, too.”

She did. She always had. It wasn’t Chloe’s friendship that Max had questioned; even her worst days weren’t enough to convince her otherwise anymore. “I do, but…”

Kristen tapped her fingers against the forgotten textbook in front of her. “Honestly, Max… I don’t think you feel replaced. I think you’re jealous.”

Max’s heart skipped a beat. “What? Jealous? Pft, come on, why would I be…”

Kristen gave her a long, withering look. Max met it for only a few seconds before casting her gaze to the floor. “…is it that obvious?”

“Dude, even Fernando clocked you. The man thought Achilles and Patroclus were good friends.”

Oh god. She was worse than obvious. 

She buried her face in her hands to hide the burning in her cheeks. Kristen cleared her throat. “Hey, uh… you know I don’t care, right? Like, it doesn’t matter to me if you like girls—”

“It’s not that,” Max managed, peeking between her fingers. “I knew you wouldn’t. I’m just… still getting used to it myself.”

Kristen nodded in understanding. “How long have you known?”

“Since I got back from visiting her. So… a few months now? Though… I think I’ve liked her a lot longer.”

Kristen waved to the wall behind her, where dozens upon dozens of Polaroids were pinned, all of Chloe. “I’d say so.”

Max cringed. “Is that… too much, do you think? Like, is it creepy to have a wall of pictures of her?”

“If you’d taken them all yourself without her knowing, absolutely. But she sent you all of these. I think it’s sweet.”

“Thanks… I’m afraid of screwing up with things like that and seeming obsessive. Though I probably seem like it anyway… If she can’t even tell me about her other friends without me getting upset, what hope do I have of hiding it?”

Kristen pursed her lips. “Well… why do you have to hide it?”

Max blinked several times. “What?”

“Have you thought about just… telling her how you feel?”

Max vigorously shook her head. “No. No. Absolutely not.”

“Max—”

“I nearly lost her once already. I won’t ever risk what we have over a stupid crush. It’ll go away eventually, right? And nothing could come of it anyway.”

Kristen tilted her head. “Why?”

Max stared at her feet. “She… she deserves better. So much better.”

“She deserves better than someone who understands her better than anyone else ever could? Someone who goes out of her way to send her things she loves, who skimps on hobbies to save money to see her, who gets excited over every letter and call? Max, how much better could she get than you?”

“That’s— that’s what any friend would do—”

“No, no it isn’t. You think it’s normal because you’ve had each other for so long, but I promise you most friends, even best friends, don’t go to nearly the same lengths you two go for each other. That’s why you’re so obvious, Max. Because you put in so much effort to show you care. People dream of having someone like that. I sure as hell wish I did.”

Kristen was… right, wasn’t she? Max tried to imagine going to the same trouble for anyone else, and while she’d certainly like to, it just seemed exhausting. For Chloe? It was energizing. And she’d do so much more for Chloe given the chance. 

Was Max upset because Rachel seemed like the only other person who might be willing to match her effort? That Chloe might stop thinking of Max’s effort as special?

And she does think I’m special. She’s said so, so many times… 

Max shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not her type anyway.”

Kristen raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what is her type?”

Max shrugged. “Tall, blonde, gorgeous, outgoing.”

“Is that really her type, or is that just what her new friend looks like?”

“I— well, it’s—”

“Max, based on what I know about Chloe, and really bear with me on this one… Is it that big a stretch to believe she might like you back?”

Max actually laughed, though she felt no humor. “Stretching to the moon with that one, Kris.”

“I mean, you don’t seem to think she’s straight. She’s going to all the same effort as you. Fuck’s sake dude, you have a letter literally in front of you that’s entirely about how awesome you are.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“How much does she flirt in her letters?”

Max blinked. “I mean, a lot, but she’s always flirted with me. That’s nothing new.”

Kristen stared at her, dumbfounded. “And… that never seemed odd to you?”

“Why would it? She flirts with everyone. It’s just who she is.”

“Name one other person you’ve seen her flirt with.”

“Uh…” Max paused. “Well, there’s… um…”

“Thought so. Anything else she’s done with you that she does with no one else?”

“I mean, she doesn’t have many other super close friends at Blackwell yet since she just started. But she’ll probably flirt with them too! And if they made up nicknames or dared her to kiss them, then she’d probably just—”

“WOAH WOAH WOAH.” Kristen’s sudden exclamation startled Max. “Back the fuck up. Dared her to WHAT NOW?”

Max’s brain caught up with her words. Fucking fuck. She’d been trying to put that short, blissful memory out of her mind, knowing that she couldn’t get over Chloe if she kept daydreaming about those soft, perfect lips. Unfortunately, it tended to crop up at the worst times. Like right now, for instance.

She looked away, hoping against hope to hide her scarlet cheeks. “Um… nothing?”

“Don’t you nothing me, Caulfield. Have you kissed Chloe? Did you dare her to?!” When Max said nothing, Kristen put a hand to her forehead. “Oh my god, you did!”

“I-It wasn’t a big deal! We had a bet on Mario Kart, and I just— I wasn’t thinking, and—”

“But she did follow through, right? You dared her, she could have said no, but she kissed you! Max, how can you possibly think that she doesn’t—”

“Because it was just a dare, Kris! People do lots of stupid shit for dares, Chloe especially. She dared me in one of her last few letters to skinny dip in the Bay with her.”

Kristen looked on the verge of an aneurysm. “She— with her . And you think— How—”

“It’s more harmless flirting! Seriously, Kris, you’re reading way too much into it. You don’t know her like I do.”

Kristen rubbed her temples, sighing heavily and shaking her head. “Dude… There’s oblivious lesbians, and then there’s whatever you two have going on.”

Max rolled her eyes. Hearing herself referred to as a lesbian was new, but… she felt okay with it. It was nice to finally talk about it with somebody, even if that somebody was drawing all the wrong conclusions out of things.

But… She raises some good points… could—

No. Max quashed that thought and buried it deep. She would not build up false hope. That would ruin things far more than the simple crush would.

She pointedly turned back to the desk, setting Chloe’s letter aside. “We should probably start studying if we don’t wanna flunk this test.”

Kristen groaned. “Fine, but we’re not done talking about this.”

Max did her best to put it all out of her head and concentrate on the page in front of her. She barely got a few sentences deep before her mind was back on Chloe’s letter and all its praise for her. Despite the cauldron of unease swirling around her heart, she couldn’t help smiling again. Even if Chloe could never like her in that way, at least she still cared in that loud, passionate way of hers.

And that will have to be enough. I can’t risk losing that. No matter what Kristen thinks.

And yet, Kristen’s words would be nagging at the back of Max’s mind long after she left for the night. She stared at the ceiling, the coming test barely a concern, thinking of nothing but Chloe and her words.

That bit she erased and covered up, at the end… What did it say, I wonder?

Unknown: Holy fuck Chloe is in deep

Steph: Uh, I agree, but who is this?

Unknown: It’s Rachel, Chloe gave me your number

Steph: Oh, hey Rachel! I’ve been meaning to get your number

Rachel: Oh? And why’s that? Got something important to say, or show? ;)

Steph: Don’t tempt me haha

Steph: Anyway yeah Chloe’s fucking hopeless dude

Rachel: I’ve seen a lot of lovesick idiots in my life but I think this takes the cake

Rachel: Like sending letters with Polaroids and comics? It’s so sappy but so cute

Steph: It’d be cuter if it weren’t so infuriating

Rachel: Infuriating because she won’t do anything about it, you mean?

Steph: Yeah, and the way she describes Max, Max won’t do anything either

Steph: A never-ending game of gay chicken

Steph: I thought the whole “clueless lesbians who kiss because they’re such good friends” thing was a joke

Steph: Apparently it is not

Rachel: THEY’VE KISSED???

Steph: Yeah, apparently it was a “harmless dare” when Max visited during spring break. Chloe let it slip when we were blazed a few weeks ago

Rachel: Dear god. I didn’t expect it to be this dire.

Steph: This is why I smoke

Steph: I uh

Steph: Sorry if this is hard, for you I mean

Steph: I know you’ve gotten close with Chloe pretty fast

Rachel: Dude, it’s fine. I’m not crushing on her if that’s your thought

Steph: Oh, really? My gaydar might need tuning

Rachel: Your gaydar is fine, I am aggressively bi

Rachel: Just nothing on that front for Chloe

Rachel: We’ve gotten close cause we just… click, I guess

Rachel: She wears her heart on her sleeve, and I don’t feel like I need a mask with her

Rachel: In another timeline, where Max wasn’t a factor? Maybe I could see us.

Rachel: As is, she’s a friend I needed in a hard time. That’s all.

Steph: Good to know

Rachel: Is it now?

Steph: yeah haha

Steph: Hate having to watch love triangles among friends. Never ends cleanly.

Rachel: Oh believe me, I know

Rachel: Now, what to do about the Max/Chloe situation

Steph: Well not much that can be done while Max is a state away. Chloe’s very protective of her letters and calls

Rachel: I’ve noticed that yeah. Were I a worse person, I might try making some… adjustments to a few of those letters before they go out

Steph: …you won’t, right? 

Rachel: Of course not. I’m not THAT big of a bitch. Still a fun scenario to picture though.

Rachel: Max is big into photography right?

Steph: Yeah, Chloe has a lot of Polaroids from Max. She thinks she’s so slick about hiding them whenever I come over

Steph: I think she wants to apply to the photography program here? Chloe’s mentioned it a few times, but I’m not sure if she’s ever submitted anything 

Rachel: Hmm

Rachel: I can work with that. I’ll need some time to think though

Steph: What are you gonna do?

Rachel: Hopefully, nudge things along, in such a way that no one suspects I was involved

Steph: Should I worry about plausible deniability? Lol

Rachel: Perhaps lol

Rachel: Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out. 

Steph: Ngl it’s great of you to do something like that for Chloe when you haven’t known her very long. She doesn’t deserve all the shit she’s been handed 

Rachel: Well she deserves this. And I owe her. She saved my life after all.

Steph: Wait she WHAT

Rachel: Remember when I was in the hospital with that stab wound? Chloe got me there.

Rachel: Without her I’d have bled to death in the junkyard.

Steph: Damn. That must be a hell of a story. Would you wanna tell me about it over some waffles tomorrow maybe? I’ll buy

Rachel: Sure, if hearing about stab wounds doesn’t kill your appetite lol

Steph: Never, I’m always a slut for waffles

Rachel: That is certainly a way to describe yourself 

Steph: But an accurate one

Steph: Two Whales at 2?

Rachel: Sure thing

**3 hours later**

Rachel: WAIT

Rachel: DID YOU JUST

Rachel: ARE WE GOING ON A DATE

Steph: :)

Rachel: YOU SMOOTH BITCH

Chapter Text

Unknown: Hello, is this Kristen?

Kristen: Who is this?

Unknown: This is gonna seem weird at first but bear with me

Unknown: My name is Rachel. One of my best friends is named Chloe

Unknown: And recently, Chloe’s had some feelings for a close friend she’s having a hard time dealing with

Unknown: That sound familiar at all?

Kristen: Oh shit

Kristen: Sounds like something my friend Max is dealing with

Kristen: Coincidentally, with someone named Chloe

Rachel: Funny, my Chloe’s trying to cope with feelings for someone named Max

Kristen: Very funny indeed

Kristen: Uh, you mind telling me how you found my number? I’m sure you’re fine but it’s a bit unnerving yk 

Rachel: Yeah sorry. I was flipping through Max’s Seattle friends on Facebook, your number is on there

Kristen: Ah right, I forgot that was up. Should probably remove that tbh

Kristen: I assume you’re reaching out about something with Max?

Rachel: Well, let me ask you this

Rachel: How are you enjoying the pining?

Kristen: Dude

Kristen: Not to be a cliche white girl

Kristen: But I literally can’t even with it

Kristen: Max was sad for a WEEK because Chloe talked about this new girl she’d met

Rachel: Yeah uh, that may have been me

Rachel: I had to explain to Chloe that maybe talking excessively about other girls isn’t the best strategy

Kristen: Is she actually trying to employ strategy

Kristen: Would be better than Max’s “must hide it forever” thing

Rachel: Oh hell no, Chloe wants to hide it too

Rachel: In fact I don’t think she knows that I know 

Rachel: Despite it being painfully obvious 

Kristen: Had a long convo with Max the other night about how obvious it was on her end. Seemed to me like Chloe was obvious too, but Max wouldn’t listen. Good to hear my instinct was right

Rachel: Well I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not continue to watch this neverending game of chicken

Kristen: Ditto

Kristen: What did you have in mind

Rachel: Well… you might not like it

Kristen: Try me

Rachel: I want them to be together again, in the flesh

Rachel: And not just for a visit

Rachel: They’re too good for each other to stay apart like this. And once they’re with each other, they won’t be able to hide things forever

Rachel: Unfortunately with Chloe’s situation I don’t think there’s any feasible scenario where she goes to Seattle. That leaves Max coming back to Arcadia Bay.

Kristen: Okay.

Rachel: Wait really? No protest?

Kristen: Dude I’d be sad to see Max leave, but tbh I don’t think she’s ever felt at home here

Kristen: She’s my friend, I want her to be happy

Kristen: It’s clear the way to do that is to reunite her with Chloe. I’ll survive.

Kristen: That said, I’m not really sure how I can help that along

Kristen: I’m not exactly a Mafia kid

Rachel: That’s where I come in

Rachel: You’ve seen Max with her camera, I take it?

Kristen: I literally don’t think I’ve ever seen her without it

Kristen: Girl is a wizard with a Polaroid 

Rachel: So I’ve heard. And it just so happens that Blackwell (the school Chloe and I go to in Arcadia) has one of the best photography programs in the country

Rachel: I know Max is interested in the program. Judging her work I’ve seen (and I’ve seen a lot, Chloe has so damn many) she’d be a shoe-in for a scholarship. Normally the acceptance process takes a while (like a full semester or more) but I have strings I can pull to expedite the process.

Rachel: But first she needs to actually submit something, which she hasn’t 

Kristen: Riiiight, I remember her talking about this

Kristen: She wasn’t sure what would be best to submit, so she’s been putting it off to “build a portfolio” or something

Kristen: Which is total BS, she has enough pics to fill a museum

Kristen: Think she’s just super anxious about applying

Rachel: I can get info on what type of submissions would be most favored. I pass that along to you, and you pass it to her while encouraging her to submit things. We can play it by ear from there

Kristen: Alright, I can do that. She works better with encouragement anyway

Kristen: I’ll get our friend Fernando to nudge her a bit too. Though I might not tell him why. He’s not exactly subtle lol

Rachel: Lol good idea

Rachel: You’ll have a bit of support on the parental front too

Kristen: You have Max’s parents’ numbers??

Rachel: Lol no I’m not THAT good

Rachel: I’ve been talking to Chloe’s mom. She and Vanessa still keep in touch. Apparently they have a bet on who will crack first

Kristen: Lmao you know it’s bad when your parents are sick of the pining too

Kristen: Who’s the favorite

Rachel: Apparently Max

Kristen: Oh bullshit

Kristen: That girl rehearses how she’ll say “here” during attendance

Rachel: Yeah well Chloe is all talk lol. And apparently Max gets a lot bolder when she’s around

Kristen: That I can believe. Did you know Max dared Chloe to kiss her? And somehow still thinks that it was a friendly thing?

Rachel: Lol yes I did. It’s why we need to intervene now, before we have to hear about how it’s perfectly normal for best friends to have wild passionate sex

Kristen: LMAO

Kristen: So, Vanessa Fernando and I will nudge Max towards submitting her stuff to Blackwell, and you’ll help us get info on best submissions and help her process along?

Rachel: Yep yep. And Joyce Steph and I will keep working on Chloe (for all the good it will do) and keep her on track to retain her scholarship. I’ll try to nudge her to nudge Max about the submissions too

Rachel: I think I can convince the Parentals to allow them to finally have texting too, but we’ll have to see

Kristen: We have them surrounded on all sides

Kristen: They can’t hide forever

Rachel: No they can’t, hard as they’ll try

Rachel: Okay then, Operation Pricefield is a go

Kristen: Lol I like it

Joyce: So. Rachel has been very persistent about the texting issue.

Vanessa: Kristen has also been making hints at me to that effect. I’m not sure if they think they’re being subtle, or if they realize we’re onto their “Operation.”

Joyce: Haha. Let them have their fun with it I say. Either way, I think it’s about time, don’t you?

Vanessa: I agree. Max has been responsible enough with her film usage and her phone so far. She’ll be over the moon about this.

Joyce: Chloe has been so well behaved about… well, pretty much everything. Maybe I should worry that she’s been hanging out in the junkyard with the DA’s daughter, but every teenager needs to get away sometimes I guess, and Rachel is a good kid. Chloe’s excited about this old junker truck that she thinks she can fix, too.

Vanessa: Well, she is getting to that age. Do you plan to let her get licensed?

Joyce: Normally I might be worried that she’d use that to skip town and visit Max. But, having gone out to see said junker, there’s no way that thing will make it to Seattle. So I think I will let her start prepping for her license. Might even try to get her to cooperate with David on the truck.

Vanessa: Oh yes, congratulations on your engagement! I forgot to message you when I saw the photos!

Joyce: Thank you! I was worried how Chloe would handle it, but they’ve been actually getting along lately. David doesn’t give her as much grief about chores, and Chloe goes to the junkyard when she needs space. It’s working out better than I could have hoped.

Vanessa: I’m glad to hear it! And hopefully she’ll handle everything even better if “Operation Pricefield” is a success.

Joyce: Is that what they’re calling it? Haha. Oh to be young again. How is your part in that going?

Vanessa: I think Max is trying to choose which photos to submit for the program. Honestly, I think she could submit any of them with her talent, but she seems convinced they’ll favor a certain style. The specific word escapes me.

Joyce: Ah yes, I think we have Rachel to thank for that. She’s been casing what the program favors.

Vanessa: Thank her for me, when you see her next. It’s so kind of her to do that for Max, whatever the motive. Regardless of how things go with Chloe, getting into Blackwell would be huge for her dreams.

Joyce: Our daughters have a lot of great friends. Whether they realize it yet or not.

Vanessa: I’m sure they do. So, I’ll get Max’s cell contract updated and let you know when it’s active. I imagine we can let them know at the same time for maximum effect?

Joyce: Oh yes, they’ll be overjoyed. Though we might not see them for the rest of the night.

Vanessa: Good thing it’s a weekend!

Chloe: HIPPIE

Max: PUNK

Chloe: WE CAN TEXT

Max: WE CAN TEXT

Chloe: YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

Max: WE CAN TALK LIKE ALL THE TIME NOW?

Chloe: ALSO THAT BUT NOT QUITE

Max: WHAT WAS YOUR THING

Chloe: SEND NUDES

Max: NO >:(

Chloe: WHAT IS THAT

Max: IT’S AN EMOJI YOU WALNUT

Chloe: I DON’T LIKE IT

Max: :(

Chloe: STOP IT

Max: ONLY IF YOU STOP ASKING FOR NUDES

Chloe: NO

Max: UGH I CAN’T WITH YOU

Max: ANYWAY YOU’D BETTER STILL WRITE ME LETTERS

Chloe: ALWAYS

Chloe: AND I STILL WANT NUDES WITH THOSE TOO

Max: ASHDJAKAHSHS CHLOE

Kristen: Fernando Jameson Fitzsimmons

Fernando: Uh you know that’s not my middle name right

Kristen: Did you or did you not tell Max to “Photograph her way into getting some”

Fernando: …I plead the fifth?

Kristen: DUDE

Fernando: It sounded funnier in my head okay

Kristen: We’re trying to ENCOURAGE her into Blackwell, not scare her off it entirely

Kristen: If she gets it into her head that Blackwell = fucking Chloe then we’ll never get her to actually submit anything

Kristen: Not to mention it’s just a dick thing to say

Fernando: Ugh I know. I’ve felt bad since I said it. I’ll apologize when I see her next.

Kristen: See that you do

Kristen: Or I’ll tell her about the jockstrap incident

Fernando: WE SWORE A BLOOD OATH

Kristen: WELL I HAD MY FINGERS CROSSED

Chloe: WHAT THE FUCK

Rachel: Oh hey Chloe

Steph: Nice to see you too

Chloe: HOW LONG

Chloe: AND WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME

Rachel: Gonna have to be a bit more specific there Chlo

Steph: Yes please do elaborate

Chloe: DON’T PLAY COY YOU FUCKFACES

Chloe: HOW LONG HAVE YOU TWO BEEN GOING OUT

Chloe: AND WHY THE FUCK DID I HEAR ABOUT IT FROM MY MOM

Rachel: Oh honey

Steph: Chloe we DID tell you 

Chloe: Wait what

Steph: Several times as a matter of fact

Rachel: It’s been several weeks dude

Rachel: We’ve made no effort to hide it

Rachel: You’re just denser than tungsten

Chloe: Am not!!! You haven’t made it obvious at all!

Steph: Oh that’s precious

Rachel: Very rich indeed 

Chloe: And wtf is that supposed to mean?

Rachel: I’m not sure you grasp the concept of obvious

Steph: We’ll explain it when you’re older

Chloe: Hold the fuck up

Chloe: This ain’t about dunking on me 

Chloe: This about how YOU TWO ARE GOING ON DATES

Rachel: Quite a few times now, yes

Steph: Should we show her, Rach?

Rachel: I think we should, Steph

Chloe: Show me what

Steph: [1 attachment]

Chloe: ANSBAGAHZJQNAVSHEJA

Chloe: YOU TWO KISSED?!?!!??

Rachel: That is a thing people who like each other do 

Steph: You should know, you kissed someone first

Chloe: That was completely different!

Steph: Bullshit

Rachel: Bullshit

Chloe: Fuck you guys

Steph: Don’t tempt us ;)

Chloe: NO EMOJI

Rachel: :P  ({‘})

Chloe: BLOCKED BLOCKED BLOCKED

Chloe: Hey, do you have a socket wrench I can use?

David: Sure. There’s one in the toolbox on the right hand shelf.

David: Sockets for it are in the smaller case on the shelf above it.

Chloe: Cool. Gonna try to replace the alternator in the junker

David: Careful with that, be sure to ground yourself before you handle the cables. Take the gloves on the shelf above the desk too. Make sure you test the battery once you’re done.

Chloe: Got it. Steph’s gonna give me a hand with the heavy labor

Chloe: And uh

Chloe: Thanks.

David: No problem.

David: Just be home soon enough to do the dishes before your mom gets back.

Chloe: God damn it

Chloe: Fine

Max: Hey can I get your opinion quick

Kristen: Pluto shouldn’t be a planet

Max: Well fuck I guess we can’t be friends anymore

Max: Viva la Pluto bitch

Kristen: Lol what’s up

Max: Trying to decide between two shots for the submission

Max: I like them both but I can only submit a specific number so I gotta pick

Max: I’ve been agonizing over them for like an hour and can’t pick one as objectively better

Max: Can you give me your gut feeling on which one you like more

Kristen: Of course, fire em at me

Max: [2 attachments]

Kristen: Hmm that’s a hard one

Kristen: They’re both pretty great looking 

Kristen: Going with my gut, I’d go for the lighthouse shot. Arcadia has one, yeah?

Max: Yeah overlooking the bay

Kristen: Then it hits some nostalgia for your hometown, that could get you brownie points

Max: Yeah I guess it could! I’ll add it to the pile

Kristen: How many more shots do you need?

Max: Not many. Though I still need to write an essay about my composition. Not looking forward to that

Kristen: At least all that letter writing has prepped you for it

Max: I suppose it has. Though I’d rather write Chloe than an essay

Max: Gotta finish up my next letter to her now, then I’ll be ready to hit the movie

Kristen: Hell yeah dude 

Kristen: Fernando is wearing his Iron-Man outfit he’s so excited

Max: Lol is it that exciting? It’s just a movie

Kristen: He will literally not be friends with you anymore if you say that to him

Dear Chloe McChloface,

Do you ever get the feeling like everyone else knows something that you don’t? That’s been something of a running theme of my life lately.

I’m gonna sound paranoid for a minute but hear me out okay? I think my friends are trying to do something behind my back, and I feel like my mom might be in on it. I’ve caught them talking in hushed voices only to stop when I enter the room. They’re weirdly evasive when I ask about it. And I swear I caught Kristen texting my mom once. 

I think it might have something to do with the application I’m prepping to Blackwell. They’ve all been… weirdly supportive of my photography lately. Like they’d all tolerate it before, but they’ve all been taking the time to ask about my shots and make suggestions. Kristen even managed to find out what style the admissions would favor, somehow.

It makes me feel… fuzzy inside, honestly. Like yeah I want to know what’s up with this, but it’s been really affirming to know that everyone has my back.

I should be ready to make the submission soon. Then all I have to do is wait. I’ve heard it takes a long time— I could still be waiting until next summer even. But if I do get it— and that’s a big if— then we could both go to Blackwell on scholarships!

I can’t even begin to tell you how much I want this. Both for the program, and for you. Us going to the same school again? All those Vortex pricks you talk about don’t stand a chance. And I can finally meet Steph and Rachel! They both seem really cool. And they look cute together in their pictures! Not sure why you were so flabbergasted by that development. They look like they fit well together, you know? 

I will be kinda sad to leave Kristen and Fernando behind, especially after the support they’ve given me. Kristen in particular has been a rock in the last few weeks as I prep my portfolio. Though, she has some pretty wild theories about the two of us. Given our crazy bond and crazy stories, I guess it just makes sense that other people can’t understand it huh? 

I look forward to giving her even more crazy stories to hear about, especially if you get that truck fixed up. It certainly has character, based on your pictures. The pirates of Arcadia couldn’t ask for a more… unique vessel with which to plunder the seven seas. Send me some pics as soon as you get it running again!

Better wrap this up now. Gotta catch a movie with Kris and Fern, then start on my portfolio essay. Hopefully I’ll have good news to report with my next letter. 

Miss you lots, Chlo. More than I can say.

Your local shutterbug,

Maximum Overdrive

Chapter Text

Max: It’s done

Max: It’s over

Kristen: ???

Kristen: Are you breaking up with me

Kristen: But we said forever bby :(

Max: Shut up lol

Max: I submitted everything for Blackwell

Kristen: !!!!!

Kristen: Dude congrats!!

Kristen: You’ve worked so hard on all of that, you’re gonna get it for sure

Max: I hope so! Thanks for all the encouragement lately. The review and acceptance process takes a while and if I’d kept putting off I might be waiting for senior year to have my chance

Kristen: I do enjoy needling your lazy ass

Kristen: You should send me the final set you submitted, I wanna see what all that work totalled up to!

Max: Oh sure! Hold on a sec

Max: [1 hyperlink]

Max: I put all the stuff I decided on in this google doc to keep track

Kristen: *whistle*

Kristen: Damn dude this is gonna blow their socks off

Kristen: Proud of you :*

Max: Thanks! :D

Max: Now to wait like 10 months to hear back lol

Kristen: Be optimistic

Kristen: I have a good feeling

Kristen: CODE YELLOW

Rachel: !!!!!

Rachel: You have the pics?

Kristen: [1 hyperlink]

Rachel: Holy shit dude

Rachel: This is better than I expected

Rachel: Now to work my magic

Kristen: Good luck and godspeed

Hoeface: Hey Victoria.

Victoria: If it isn’t queen bee herself

Victoria: The fuck do you want

Hoeface: I won’t mince words. I need a favor.

Victoria: Ohhh, that is RICH

Victoria: Riddle me this then

Victoria: Why the hell would I ever do you a favor

Hoeface: Favor is the wrong word. It’s more of a trade.

Victoria: Dying to hear what you have that I could want

Hoeface: I’ll cede the Vortex chair to you.

Hoeface: And I won’t even try out for the next theater production.

Victoria: Hmm

Victoria: What makes you think I need those things handed to me?

Hoeface: You probably don’t. But this route is much easier.

Victoria: That depends. What do you get out of it?

Hoeface: You’ll love that part. I get nothing out of it. Not directly anyway.

Victoria: Explain.

Hoeface: There’s an applicant for the photography scholarship. She’s sure to win it. I’d like her review process expedited. Ideally so she can start here next semester.

Victoria: Do you have ANY idea how competitive that scholarship is? 

Hoeface: I do. And I’m certain she’ll win it regardless. 

Victoria: Let someone who actually knows photography judge that

Victoria: I assume you have something of hers you can show?

Hoeface: [1 hyperlink]

Victoria: …hmm.

Victoria: Well, I admit she has a good eye.

Victoria: I’m not sold on her winning outright. No promises. But I’ll do what I can. Her name?

Hoeface: Max Caulfield.

Victoria: No clue who that is. One of those weird nerds you hang out with?

Hoeface: Friend of a friend.

Victoria: You’ll give up the chair and theater for someone you don’t even know?

Hoeface: Settling a debt I owe. Do you really care about the details?

Victoria: I suppose not

Victoria: Fine then, I’ll pass her name along to the right people. You resign the chair at the next club meeting and skip out on the upcoming tryouts. And you don’t tell ANYONE why.

Hoeface: Deal. This conversation never happened. Pleasure doing business.

Victoria: Whatever

Dear Maxico,

Yeah, I think I know exactly what you mean about people hiding things from you.

Take Rachel, for example. Earlier this week she just up and quit the Vortex club. She says she felt like she was outgrowing it and didn’t want the drama anymore, but I feel like there’s something else there? She was a chairman for fuck’s sake, and the parties were almost worth the drama. Now queen bitch Victoria gets the chair. Wish I could punch her stupid smug face without risking my scholarship. But hey, Rachel gets more time with Steph, so who came out ahead?

Regarding that: I don’t care what you say, to me that came out of NOWHERE. I gave Steph’s number to Rachel cause I thought they’d be friends, and we could have a little friend group. Never in a million years did I imagine they’d actually start going out! Steph must have some smooth moves.

She keeps offering to give me coaching. Like I need it! I’m Arcadia’s most eligible bachelorette. I’m just not looking to date right now. School takes up too much time. Besides, why would I need to date when I have you? We can third and fourth wheel Rachel and Steph’s dates together once you get here.

Which needs to be soon. I should find the admissions office and hack your name in. Or bribe whoever makes the decision. Or blackmail. Probably blackmail, I’m kinda broke.

I just need you here, yesterday. Get those photos in, hippie! Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll be so blown away by your raw awesomeness that they let you in immediately. Do you think they’d give you a dorm? I think the dorms might only be for seniors, I’ve never really been clear on that. Well if they don’t it’s no worry, cause you can bunk with me! No way in hell Joyce will say no. David might make a fuss, but eh, I can defuse him. My grades got him acting fair lately.

It’s… strange that I don’t really mind him and mom getting engaged. He’s still kind of a prick, but less of a prick than I first pegged him as. He’s been helping me with the truck, and even gave me a book to study for the license tests. Well joke’s on him cause once I can drive, ain’t nothing that can hold me back!

First destination would obviously be Seattle (to see you) but uh. Mom says she doesn’t think it will survive the trip. Steph agrees. I want to call them naysayers but tbh I kinda think they’re right. She’s seen better days. Which is why I need you to come here!

Crap, David’s home and calling for chores. Suppose I should keep the peace. Text me when you get this! And before. And after. Text me always. Love hearing from you in any form. But NO EMOJIS!

Your chauffeur in training,

Chlorophyll 

P.S. You know what would’ve gotten you into Blackwell sooner? Nudes

Max felt like tormenting herself tonight, apparently.

She had several instruments with which to attack her fragile mental state. The first was a history paper about the US involvement in World War One, a concept she could barely grasp with all the fancy names thrown around. Though it was due in two days and she hadn’t started it, she couldn’t focus on it for the life of her.

So, she distracted herself from that by rereading her Blackwell submission docs, thinking of everything she could have done better. An argument that could have been refined, or changed entirely. Several pictures that on reflection were not good enough, easily outclassed by others she’d initially rejected. Maintaining a positive attitude was hard, even with constant encouragement from friends and family. And in all likelihood, she still had months left to wait.

So, she distracted herself from that with Chloe’s most recent letter. Unfortunately, this one wasn’t all smiles. Happy as it always made her to receive Chloe’s words, she kept coming back to a few specific, offhand comments. They sliced deeper into her heart than they should have.

I’m just not looking to date right now. 

Why would I need to date when I have you?

We can third and fourth wheel Rachel and Steph’s dates together.

Proof, if proof be needed, that Chloe could only think of Max as a friend. She’d known that Kristen was full of shit. No way in a million years would someone like Chloe ever have eyes for Max. Still, part of her had dared to hope. Now she had to restrain that part so it didn’t make her cry.

This is a good thing, Max, she tried to tell herself. You know for sure now. You can use the time between now and the scholarship decision to get your stupid feelings in order. 

And she’d need all the time she could get. The more she considered her feelings for Chloe, the deeper they seemed to run. If they were going to attend Blackwell together — worse, if she couldn’t get a dorm and they had to live together — Max wasn’t sure how long she could keep things hidden. She’d be tempted to push the boundaries, like she had during her visit. The prospect of another dared kiss was… irresistible.

I can’t lose her over this. I won’t. Maybe I need to like… try to see other girls? But the only girl I’ve ever liked this way is Chloe…CAN I even like other girls like this?

Max dropped her head to her desk and groaned. Why did this have to be so confusing? It would be much easier if Chloe wasn’t so… Chloe.

Chloe… Like clockwork, Max was again daydreaming of their way-too-short kiss. What would another feel like if they both wanted it? If they didn’t feel the need to pull away? If they could keep going until they couldn’t breathe and their lips started to bruise…

Such pleasant, dangerous thoughts were rudely interrupted by the downstairs door slamming open, swiftly followed by a cry of “MAAAAAAX!”

Her mother’s voice. It was too early for dinner yet. She frowned and went over to her door, cracking it open just wide enough to yell back, “WHAT?”

“Can you come down here, hun? You’ve got some mail!”

Mail for her? But Chloe’s letter had only just arrived yesterday. A second one with stuff she’d forgotten to say, maybe? That did happen sometimes. Puzzled, she plodded down the stairs and found her mom waiting in the dining room, a broad smile on her face.

“Well, go ahead.” She nodded at the thick envelope resting on the table. Max could immediately tell it wasn’t one of Chloe’s; the addresses were printed on, rather than handwritten. She picked it up and scanned the return address.

“It’s… from Blackwell?” Max looked to her mother for confirmation, who nodded encouragingly. Suddenly the letter felt much heavier. It was far too early for the scholarship results. A confirmation they’d received her submission, maybe? Or… maybe an outright rejection. With a slight tremble to her hands, she tore the envelope open.

Several sheets of paper were inside. Most of them were… forms? For… housing? And dining? But that meant…

At the bottom of the stack of papers was a letter with an official-looking letterhead. Her tremble was much more noticeable now. As she read each word with utmost care, her breathing slowed. By the time she reached the end, she’d stopped breathing altogether.

“Well? What does it say?”

Chloe was spacing out at her desk — definitely not ignoring homework so she could daydream about kissing Max — when her phone started buzzing in her pocket.

She scowled as she fished it out. “Fucking robocallers again, I swear to—”

As soon as she saw Max’s name, her irritation swiveled on a dime and became elation. She almost dropped the phone in her haste to answer. 

“Heya, Max! What’s up?” She cringed, hoping she didn’t sound too eager.

“Hey, Chloe,” Max breathed. “I, um… I’ve got some news.”

Chloe frowned and sat up straight. “What is it?”

“Well, uh… you know the scholarship?”

Her pulse picked up. Had something gone wrong with the application? “Yeah?”

“Well… Shit, sorry, this is a lot…”

“Take your time, Maxi, I’m here. It’s okay.” 

“Okay… well… I got it, Chloe. A full ride to Blackwell.”

… 

“YES!”

Chloe heard Max swear as she leapt to her feet, cheering and shouting and pumping her fists. David and Joyce’s angry voices floated up the stairs, but Chloe couldn’t care less who heard her right now. 

Max got the scholarship! Max is coming back!

Her celebration was clearly infectious, as Chloe could now hear Max cheering and whooping through the phone. Chloe laughed, spun around, fell onto her bed, and laughed some more. How could she not? Their separation would end soon. The Arcadia pirates would sail together again.

I’ll get to see her almost every day again. See her face, hear her voice, make her laugh…

When Chloe’s mirth died down a bit, she brought the phone back to her ear. “You did it, Max! I kept telling you you’d get it! Who was right? Tell me I was right!”

Max’s laugh did unhealthy things to Chloe’s heart. “You were right, Chloe. Please forgive me for ever doubting you.”

“Oh hell no, Caulfield, you need to beg forgiveness for doubting you. This was all your talent, your hard work. And your talent and hard work wowed them so much they gave it to you right away! You only submitted it, what, a week or two ago?”

“Almost two weeks,” Max said, sounding more subdued. “I’m… confused, honestly. I expected it to take months.”

“That’s just how awesome my Max is!” Chloe’s stomach leapt into her throat as the words my Max passed her lips. She prayed that Max didn’t notice the slip. “So, details! Do you get a dorm? Food plan? When do you start classes? When do you move in? Can you move in early? You should move in early. Unless you don’t want to. But, well, I think it’d be cool if— Fuck, sorry, I’m a bit too eager—”

Max cut her off with a laugh. “I’m just as eager as you, I promise. I’ve… missed you a lot since my visit. I’m excited to see you.”

Chloe swallowed. “I’m really excited to see you too, Max. And… we can see each other every day again.”

“Yeah… yeah we can.”

They paused. Chloe because she didn’t trust herself to speak past the lump in her throat without spilling all of her feelings. Max, likely because she was still reeling with the news. Chloe knew without a doubt that Max was genuine in her excitement to reunite.

But… not for the same reason Chloe was excited.

I counted on having time to corral these stupid feelings… a lot more time. Max had to go and be too awesome for her own good. Stupid, talented, adorable Max…

“So, uh,” Chloe said with a cough. “Dorms? Move-in dates?”

“R-right, yeah. Well, it looks like the scholarship includes room and board. There’s a form here for getting a dorm if needed. I… think I’m gonna go that route. I don’t want to impose on you and Joyce, especially right after she gets remarried.”

Chloe nodded. Hearing that stung, but given her emotional state, it was for the best. She’d never be able to hide anything for long if they shared living space. “That makes sense. Try to get one on the ground floor, okay? Then I can crawl through your window to visit you.”

Max chuckled. “I’ll do my best. As far as move-in goes… Looks like the earliest they allow is… two weeks before semester starts. So, first weekend of August.”

That perked Chloe right back up. “So we can get two whole weeks before we have to worry about school? Hell yes!”

“Damn right we can. Mom wants me to wait for the week after so Dad has time off to help with the move—”

“Fuck that,” Chloe snapped. “I’ll move all your stuff myself if that’s what it takes. I’ll have a truck soon!”

“Uh, Chlo, not for nothing, but I don’t think that thing will make it both ways—”

“I’ll make it make it.”

God, Chloe could listen to Max’s laugh forever. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll make the first weekend happen. I promise.”

Chloe’s cheeks were starting to hurt. “Then I can introduce you to Rachel and Steph! Try to ignore the bits where they crawl all over each other, they’re both great people otherwise.”

“I can’t wait to meet them! And see Joyce again. And eat Joyce’s waffles again. And see the junkyard. And… well, everything with you. I can’t wait for… you.”

Here lies Chloe Elizabeth Price. Cause of death: cardiac arrest. Max Caulfield awaiting trial for first degree murder.

“…Chloe?” Max sounded worried now. 

“I… I can’t wait for you either, Maxi,” Chloe managed to say without crying. “Arcadia isn’t the same without you. I’m not the same.”

Shit. Was that too much? Did that give it away? Fuck. What she wouldn’t give to rewind time and try that again.

“Soon, Chlo. Soon.”

“Yeah… just a few more months.”

“A few more months. Then… never again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Once Blackwell’s done with us, we’ve got a road trip to do, remember? We have a plan and everything!”

We don’t need a plan. I would go anywhere with you. I would do anything for you. 

Is what Chloe wanted to say. What she said instead was, “Hell yeah I do. The Arcadia pirates will be known across the land! Mainly for taking pictures and buying stupid knick-knacks.”

“Truly, a band to be feared!”

They laughed more. They joked more. They discussed moving plans and all the things they’d do once Max was settled. They had nearly four years of lost time to make up for, after all. Four years that had changed them so much. Yet despite their distance, Chloe felt closer to Max than ever. All thanks to that first letter she’d sent.

“Hey, Max?” Chloe asked after a while of chatting. “Sappy question for you.”

“Oh goth, is this gonna make me cry?”

“Not that sappy.” Chloe licked her lips. “I… was thinking about the last few years… how our letters helped us stay together. Get closer, even.”

“Yeah, they did. I love them. Getting them is always the highlight of my day. I’ve… kept all of them.”

Chloe grinned. “I have all of yours, too. And I was thinking… well, we’re still gonna be living apart, right?”

“Chlo, we’ll be like five blocks—”

“Five whole blocks! A truly insurmountable distance. How ever will we keep in touch, in this age of cell phones and emails?”

A pause. “Are you… asking if we can keep writing letters to each other?”

She could hear the smile in Max’s voice, and it made her smile too. “I’d like that a lot.”

“I’d like it too. I like… having the physical reminder of how much you care.”

“Same… Granted, I’ll have the real thing soon. But letters work in a pinch.”

Max snorted. “Good to know I can’t be replaced by a sheet of paper.”

Nothing can replace you, Max.

More calls from downstairs, both David and Joyce. Chloe sighed. “The parentals are calling. Guess I should go answer them.”

“Yeah, I think my mom wants me to start filling out paperwork, ugh. Text you once I’m done?”

“You know I’m a slut for your texts.”

“Oh shut up. Bye, Chloe!”

“Bye Max!”

Chloe stared at Max’s contact photo for a long second, then held her phone against her heart as she looked at the ceiling. Max was coming back. They’d keep writing letters. They’d be as inseparable as they once were, maybe even more. Only five more months without her, and everything would be okay again.

Only five more months to deal with a minor case of severe heartthrob.

God, I’m fucked.

Electing not to think about that just yet, she hopped to her feet and headed for downstairs, elated to share the news with Joyce… and also, she supposed, David.

Rachel: CODE GREEN

Kristen: CODE GREEN?

Steph: CODE GREEN!

Fernando: CODE PURPLE!

Kristen: SHUT UP FERN

Kristen: So is it official? Max got the scholarship?

Fernando: !!!!!

Steph: Hell yeah she did! In landmark time too!

Kristen: No kidding that only took like two weeks

Kristen: The hell kind of strings did you pull Rachel?

Rachel: I have my methods :)

Fernando: Remind me never to get on your bad side

Steph: Don’t worry her bad side is still her good side ;)

Rachel: STEPH

Kristen: LMAO

Fernando: jfksjsbanakabxbs

Rachel: ANYWAY

Rachel: Phase One of Operation Pricefield is complete. We’ve still got work to do though

Rachel: Phase Two is to keep them from sliding into self loathing, as they’re both prone to do. They’re gonna try to smother their feelings between now and moving. Maybe even push each other away for safety. We can’t let that happen to our girls.

Rachel: So, both Team M and Team C need to keep an eye on their emotional states. Assuage their fears. Encourage seeing the positive sides of things. Team M has a leg up, since Max has already confessed her feelings to Kristen. Chloe still has yet to crack, but I have my ways.

Rachel: We keep them excited (and hopefully with a bit of healthy yearning) until August when Blackwell move-ins start. Then we commence Phase Three.

Fernando: Has anyone ever told you you’d make a good CIA spook

Steph: I have, several times

Kristen: Keep Max from being too stupid, got it. Impossible as that may be.

Fernando: Dare I ask what Phase Three is?

Rachel: I can’t reveal all my plans this early. First rule of a good spook

Rachel: Let’s just say they’re already falling hard. We’re going to make sure they land safely. And ideally, together.

Chapter Text

Chloe sprinted down the front steps of Blackwell, skidded on her knees in the grass, threw her hands in the air, and yelled in her best Braveheart impression, “FREEDOOOOOOOM!”

A couple beautiful bastards behind her gave war cries to match. Several other people laughed. The usual suspects were rolling their eyes and making snide comments, but Chloe couldn’t give less of a shit what Victoria and her cronies thought. In fact, she looked right at them, gave them a big smile, and stuck her tongue out. Their shocked faces were worth it.

School’s out, bitches! You have no power here!

Rachel and Steph caught up to her in short order, arm in arm and laughing at her antics. Rachel smirked and gave her a courtly bow. “Lord Wallace! Huge fan, can I get your autograph?”

“Eat me. It’s summertime!”

“Hell yeah it is,” Steph said with a fist pump. “We still on for mini-party at the hideout?”

“Always!” Chloe stood and brushed her jeans off. They had long grass and dirt stains now, which Joyce wouldn’t be happy about, but eh. Chloe thought it added character. “Just gotta stop at home first, grab some spark plugs David picked up for the truck—”

“Oh hell no,” Rachel cut her off. “No working on that death trap today. You’re chilling out with your friends. No arguments!”

Chloe groaned and hung her head, but knew there was no arguing with Rachel when she was set on something. “Fiiiiiine.”

“Chin up,” Steph said, readjusting her trademark beanie. “Rachel managed to get more of the good shit just for today.”

“You know it,” Rachel said, leading the way to where she was parked. “Wasn’t easy, either. Frank’s been a lot less friendly since I became unavailable.”

“God forbid you pay what the rest of us do,” Steph said with an eye roll.

“You’re worth it, babe.” Rachel looked back to give Steph a wink.

Steph put her hands over her heart. “Oh, how romantic.”

Chloe made a fake gagging motion, which got them both laughing. Really it was meant to cover the stab of envy she felt. That wasn’t their fault at all — they’d been very good at not making her feel like a third wheel while she was with them. And she was genuinely happy to see them so happy together.

No, the problem was that it reminded of what she wanted, but could never have, with Max. A want she now only had three months to get over, when it only seemed to get stronger with each passing week.

And no homework to distract me until then… Fuck. Never thought I’d miss it… 

She simmered on that issue for the whole drive over to American Rust while Rachel and Steph chatted in the front seat about vacation plans. Well, calling it a “vacation” was a stretch. Really they were just planning to camp out for a week in the woods outside town. That was about the best they could do given their family situations, but they were both looking forward to it.

Rachel was still not speaking to her father since the incident with her real mom, and Steph had never been on good terms with her mother. Somehow it was Chloe that had the best home life, something she wouldn’t have predicted just a couple years ago. She hadn’t argued with David in… fuck, how long had it been?

Probably just cause I spend so much time in the junkyard lately. Probably.

Said junkyard came into view and brought a smile to Chloe’s face. She was the first out of Rachel’s car, darting over to the old junker she’d been working on. It was looking much more presentable now, with clean windows and proper tires. Several tools and parts littered the ground around it. She patted the rusty hood fondly.

“Holding up okay, old girl?” She had to resist the urge to pop the hood and start tinkering. “No work today, sadly. Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here soon.”

“Chloe!” Rachel called from the hideout. “Leave your girlfriend alone and come on!”

“Alright, mom,” Chloe called back, giving the truck one more pat before jogging to the little concrete building.

The hideout had been through a lot since she and Rachel first started using it. The old futon they’d started with had been replaced by a weathered but much nicer couch. They had a low table for cards and drinks, along with several frayed lawn chairs. They had curtains, hanging lights, stupid knick-knacks, and more posters than she cared to count.

Her favorite decor was the graffiti along the right wall. Scrawled in black marker, in a variety of flowing handwritings, they’d all left their mark. Steph was here. Rachel was here. Chloe was here. Below Chloe’s tag and above several posters was a blank stretch of wall, where Max could leave her own mark.

I can’t wait to show her this place. It’ll be like that treehouse we used to have… except a bit more structurally sound. And with fewer termites.

Rachel and Steph were already settled on the couch. Chloe sank into one of the lawn chairs as Rachel finished rolling a joint. “Roller goes first. Light me up, babe?”

Steph flicked the lighter on and held it to the joint between Rachel’s lips. She breathed deeply, pulled the joint out, and lightly blew a stream of smoke into the air. “Ahh… Good shit.”

Steph went next. She inhaled for much longer, and showed off by puffing out a few smoke rings. “Mmm… Frank may be an asshole, but the man knows his green.”

Chloe took the joint with some trepidation, and only took a relatively shallow drag before passing it back to Rachel. If either of them noticed, they didn’t say anything. She’d taken up weed during the hard times following her father’s death. Partially to take the edge off, and partially as an act of defiance. These days, she got far more catharsis from defying people’s expectations with her school performance. She’d been steadily weaning herself off it, and now only did it socially, and never on school nights. Someday soon she’d stop entirely. She wasn’t going to let it jeopardize all the progress she’d made getting herself back together.

Also, Max didn’t like it. Minor detail. 

Still, she could let herself enjoy the light, fuzzy feeling it brought to her head. She closed her eyes and leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Ah… Freedom never tasted so sweet.”

“Here here,” Rachel said before taking another drag. “True freedom will be even better. Only two more years in this shithole.”

Chloe cracked one eye open to look at her. “You’re gonna leave right after graduation, then?”

She nodded. “No reason to wait. LA beckons!”

Chloe snorted. Rach was always talking about taking LA by storm and becoming a big model/actress. She certainly had the looks for it. The determination too; she never gave up on things she wanted. If anyone could do it, Rachel could.

“You Hollywood-bound too, Steph?” Chloe asked. She immediately winced at the question. Were they serious enough to discuss moving someplace together? She hadn’t really talked with either of them about their relationship. It felt weird to discuss it with just one of them, like they’d be going behind the other’s back. They seemed to be doing alright, which was a relief. Chloe didn’t want to pick sides in the divorce.

Steph shrugged. “It’s on the table for sure. There’s some big studios down there. The guys that made God of War, for instance.”

Chloe whistled. Steph planned to go into game design, and Chloe fully believed she’d be great at it. Her outlandish shenanigans in D&D proved she could break the mold in fun and interesting ways. “You gotta get in with them. Then give us the sexy female Kratos we all deserve.”

Steph laughed as she took the joint back from Rachel. “The execs will love it. We’ll finally corner the lesbian action gamer market.”

“You joke, but I’d buy it.”

“Same.”

While Steph took her second drag, Rachel dug through the cooler beside the couch and passed out bottles of Coke. The good kind in the glass bottles, with the cane sugar. The three of them popped their caps off on the table, then clinked their bottles together.

“To the end of another year in Blackhell,” Rachel proclaimed in a horrible imitation of Principal Wells. “And to a summer of hooliganous shenanigans.”

They all drank, then Chloe cocked an eyebrow at Rachel. “Hooliganous?”

“It’s totally a word.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“It should be. It sounds like one. Is it any more ridiculous than something like ‘platitudinous?’ ”

“Christ, I hate English.”

Rachel laughed and set her drink down. “So, what lies in store for the great Chloe Price after graduation? You’ve never really talked about it.”

Chloe shrugged. “I haven’t decided.”

Steph nodded understandingly. “It’s a big decision. We’ve got time. Kinda dumb they make us pick a life path so young, anyway.”

Rachel wasn’t quite so understanding, judging by her frown. “You must have some ideas, at least? What’s on the shortlist?”

Chloe hesitated. “Well… I kinda kicked around the idea of something with art… Like, tattoos or something, but…”

“Oh yeah, that’d be cool! You’d be good at that. I’d trust you to do a design for me,” Steph said.

“What’s the hangup, though?” Rachel asked.

“It doesn’t pay that well, starting out.”

“It would pay well enough to support yourself in most places, long as you aren’t crazy with your money.”

“I know, but…” Chloe bit her lip. This was going in a dangerous direction.

Sure enough, Rachel got that infuriatingly knowing look on her face. She was too damn good at reading people. “But… You’re not just thinking of supporting yourself, right?”

“I— Well, we’ve always talked about— Max and I, that is— We’d like to stay in the same area, and I know she wants to go to school for photography, and that can get expensive, and it might take time for her to start getting real work, and I just…”

Steph’s smile slowly got bigger as Chloe talked. “You want to support Max’s dream.”

She hoped that the heat in her cheeks could be written off as an effect of the weed. “I— yeah. Sorta.”

“That is so sweet, Chlo. I’m sure Max would want you to follow your own dream, though.”

I would be. My dream is to make Max happy. Everything else can wait.

“Yeah, well,” Chloe said with another nonchalant shrug. “Like you said, we got time.”

She took a long swig of her Coke to get out of talking more. Rachel was watching her with a suspicious glint in her eye. Chloe suspected that she knew more than she let on; she’d always been freakily perceptive when it came to what people wanted. And, well, Chloe didn’t exactly do a great job of hiding things. If Rachel wanted to press the issue, she chose not to at this moment.

Thank god. Can’t imagine how much shit she’d give me. Just gotta avoid the M word around her if I can.

“So,” Rachel said with a sudden clap of her hands. “What’s everyone most looking forward to this summer?”

Chloe’s heart dropped into her stomach. Fuck.

“I’m really looking forward to being able to drive myself places! Day trips up to Portland! And of course, camping trips.” She nudged Steph’s shoulder with a playful smile.

Steph nudged her back. “Honestly, I’m looking forward to just being with you. I’ve never had a girlfriend during summertime… Or ever, really.”

“Aww, babe…”

Chloe made a fake retching sound, covering for another stab of jealousy. They both just rolled their eyes at her.

“And you, Chlo? I’d guess driving, but at this rate I’ll be amazed if your baby even makes it out of the driveway.”

Chloe crossed her arms and pouted. “Oh ye of little faith. Baby is gonna run just fine, and then you’ll be eating my dust.”

“Eating your rust, more like.”

“Oh shut up. The rust adds character.”

“Riiiight. Anyway, what’s gonna be the highlight of your summer?”

When it ends and Max comes home. 

“Showing off my epic beach bod, obviously.” 

Rachel and Steph both raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh… Showing it off to all two people who ever go to the beach? One of which is Frank?”

Chloe smirked. “You know it. Gonna score some free grass with these curves.”

Steph snorted. “No offense, but I don’t think you’re his type.”

“No faith at all in me today!” Chloe put her hands over her heart like she’d been wounded. “And I thought friends were supposed to always have my back.”

“As a friend who always has your back, it’s my solemn duty to tell you that your back is not to Frank’s tastes.”

“Oh? And have you studied it in great detail?”

“Indeed I have, often when considering where best to kick it.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, then fixed Chloe with a serious gaze. “Really though.”

Chloe paused. This was getting dangerous again. How to throw her off? “Well, I don’t know… Not having to listen to David harping about homework will be great.”

“Is that what gets you most excited? Not, I don’t know, your childhood best friend and pen pal coming home?”

…Fuck.

“...Yeah, also that.”

Steph’s brow furrowed. “You don’t sound too excited. You couldn’t shut up about it when you first found out.”

“Yeah, well, that was before I…”

“...Before you…?”

Chloe bit her lip. They had her all but cornered now. There had to be some way to steer this to deflect suspicion, but couldn’t think of one right away. All she managed was, “It’s… complicated.”

That got both of their attention. They sat up and leaned forward with concerned looks. “Did something happen between you guys?”

“What? No, nothing like that. We’re fine. Great, even.”

“What’s the problem, then?”

“I…”

Rachel’s face softened, and she put a hand on Chloe’s shoulder. “You don’t have to tell us. But we’ll listen if you want to.”

Steph nodded. “Yeah, no judgment here. You’re among friends.”

No judgment, huh? They sure as hell should judge her. They couldn’t judge her harder than she judged herself. Still… maybe getting it off her chest might help her sort through some things. They might even have advice on how to deal with it.

“I… sort of have a… crush on Max. ” She whispered the last part so quietly she wasn’t sure if they’d heard her.

And there it was. The cat was finally out of the bag. She’d never admitted her feelings for Max, out loud or otherwise. That made it so much more real, and so much more terrifying. She braced for them to call her an idiot, tell her it could never work and that she needed to move on. Part of her was hoping for them to say it, to confirm what she already knew deep down.

Instead, they surprised her by nodding like they’d expected that. Steph even said, “It’s normal to feel nervous about seeing a crush, especially when you haven’t seen them in so long.”

Chloe blinked. “You’re… okay with it?”

Rachel frowned. “Why would we not be?”

“I—I don’t know, because it’s really stupid?”

“...Uh, how, exactly?”

“Crushing on your straight childhood best friend doesn’t seem stupid to you?!”

Steph and Rachel looked at each other and laughed. “Hate to break it to you, but in no universe is Max straight.”

“Yeah, she’s at least bisexual, heavily favoring women.”

Chloe’s brain felt like it was misfiring. “I— How do you—”

“A superhuman gaydar, obviously.”

“We’ve seen the selfies, Chlo. The way she dresses? Her haircut? Come on.”

Chloe frowned. “Seriously, guys. You don’t know her like I do.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Yes, but you’re also denser than a sack of bricks.”

“Not when it comes to Max.”

Both of them snorted at that. Rachel cocked an eyebrow with a smug smirk. “Okay then, miss Max-expert. Give me one example of her ever showing preference for a guy. At all.”

Chloe opened her mouth to reply, but had to pause to consider that. She would never admit to them that she knew most of Max’s letters by heart. Going through them in her head… Max never talked about guys except to mention how none of them appealed to her. And usually only after Chloe gave her shit about finding a boyfriend. 

Could she really be… 

“It wouldn’t matter if she is,” Chloe cut off that train of thought. “She—”

“I swear to god. ” Rachel’s eyes flashed dangerously. “If you’re about to say she deserves better—”

“She does, though—”

“Better than someone who would give up a dream job to help get hers? Bullshit. Be honest with me, Chloe. Is it that you feel like you don’t deserve her? ”

Chloe’s throat constricted. Yet again, Rachel knew how to cut right to the core of an issue. Chloe may well be the best match for Max. Who would know her better? Who would care for her as much? But Max would make whoever she was with very happy. Did Chloe really deserve that? She’d made great strides in the last few years, but that was just clawing back up to where she was before her father’s death. In a lot of ways, she still felt… well, broken. Barely worthy of her Blackwell scholarship, much less the love of the most amazing girl she knew. 

She couldn’t make herself say all that out loud. Instead, she simply nodded once. Rachel squeezed her shoulder. 

“You are worth it. I’ve only known you for a few months, but you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had. You deserve so much more than you give yourself credit for. You know Max would say the same.”

…Yeah, she would. She’d say I deserve the best. She’d say… that I deserve better than her, when that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Thanks, Rach,” Chloe mumbled, putting her hand on Rachel’s. “Still… I can’t. She can’t know.”

“Why?”

“What we have… It’s the most important thing in the world to me. I don’t know where I’d be today without her. I can’t lose her. Not over a stupid crush.”

Steph cocked her head. “Hypothetical for you. Imagine you didn’t feel this way about Max. If she told you she felt that way about you, would you let it ruin things?”

Chloe blinked. “No, never. I’d find a way to make it work without hurting her.”

“Then what’s the problem? She’d do the same for you, right?”

“... Probably, but…”

“Do you trust Max?”

“With my life,” she said immediately. “With everything.”

“Then trust her with this. Regardless of how she feels, I’m sure she’d much rather hear you say it.”

“As opposed to what, exactly? You guys wouldn’t—”

“Never,” Rachel said, seeming a bit offended by the insinuation. “But Max might figure it out eventually. Which conversation would you rather have? The one where you come to her openly, or the one where she confronts you about it?”

“Neither, ideally. I still have three months to get over it.”

“Right… and how long have you been into her, exactly?”

Chloe paused. “I’m… not sure. Years, probably?”

“Yeah, not happening. You can’t hide from this forever. It’ll tear you apart inside.”

She sighed deeply, not even feeling the calming effects of the weed anymore. Her heart and mind were in absolute turmoil, a hurricane with Max at the center. Rachel was right, she’d never be able to get over Max in so short a time. If she was completely honest with herself, she couldn’t picture ever getting over Max. Not when Max was so… Max.

And really, what was the worst possible outcome? Even when Max didn’t feel the same, she wouldn’t let that alone ruin their bond. They were too strong for that. Chloe would accept the rejection as gracefully as she could and do everything to avoid making Max uncomfortable. It might even help Chloe move on and find someone else. They could laugh about in their later years.

Or, Chloe could keep it hidden. Max could discover it when Chloe was an obvious moron about it, and be upset that Chloe didn’t trust her with it. Or if she never found out, Chloe would continue to pine away, still clinging to hope that never let her move on. She might have to watch, still pining away, as Max found someone else, got married, had a family. The thought made her feel sick.

Or… maybe Max could feel the same. She didn’t let herself linger on the possibilities, faint as they were. But even without specifics, she knew it could be everything she’d ever wanted.

So much to risk. So much to lose. So much to gain.

“I… I don’t know,” she finally said after a long minute.

“That’s okay,” Steph said, giving her a pat on the shoulder. “You still have three months to work through it.”

Rachel nodded. “We don’t mean to pressure you, just to get you thinking about it. My advice? Don’t focus so hard on getting over her right now. It won’t help. When the time comes, if she doesn’t think she can feel the same, we’ll help you try to move on. Until then? Embrace it. Reread all her letters. Double text her. Indulge in all the little daydreams about kissing her and holding hands. Crushes with passion like yours don’t come around much, and we’re only allowed to be young, stupid, hormonal teenagers once, right?”

Embrace it, huh? She did like daydreaming about kissing Max. And holding hands with Max. And… other things with Max. Not like she could quit even if she wanted to, which she really didn’t. Besides, Max wasn’t here yet. No danger of discovery for a while.

As for if Chloe would confess or not… Well, no need to decide that right now.

Chloe let out a long breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Damn it. Pass the joint.”

Rachel complied, pausing during the handoff to squeeze Chloe’s hand. “We’re here if you need to talk more. This can’t be easy.”

Understatement of the century right there. Chloe puffed on the joint a couple times, then closed her eyes and leaned back. Max’s face was there, of course. “Be easier if she weren’t so fucking cute. Stupid freckles and eyes and ‘wowzers’ ...”

Steph guffawed. “Does she seriously say wowzers?” 

Chloe smiled. “Yeah. All the time. Such a dork.”

Rachel snorted. “Like you’re any better, Miss Hella.”

“Fair, fair… Hey, um… Thanks for listening, guys. I think that helped me work some stuff out.”

“Anytime, Chlo. Anyway, enough emotional stuff for now, let’s play some cards! Losers have to pay for the winner’s next round at Two Whales.”

Chloe snapped forward, grabbed the pack of cards from the table, and was shuffling them inside three seconds. “Oh, you two are going down. Mama needs her free waffles.”

“Not more than the self-proclaimed Waffle Slut,” Steph said, rubbing her hands together. “I was born for this.”

“I’d give the edge to Steph here,” Rachel said, “but it doesn’t matter, since I’ll be winning.”

“In your dreams, Amber…”

They played several hands, several of which resulted in ties. In the end, Steph came out on top, with both Chloe and Rachel grumbling to each other as she lorded it over them. Eventually they laughed it off and played a few more random games for fun. Steph and Rachel got progressively higher, and said nothing when Chloe abstained.

All the while, Chloe felt lighter than she’d felt in a while. Since discovering her crush, really. And when pauses in the games and conversation allowed her mind to wander to Max’s soft lips, she didn’t feel inclined to stop it.

Rachel: Phase Two is proceeding well on Subject C. Subject regularly spaces off with a stupid smile on her face. She now talks about Subject M to the researchers. Additional observations needed, but current results are promising.

Steph: Additional note: Subject C is super fucking cute when she talks about Subject M.

Kristen: Phase Two inconclusive thus far with Subject M. She does not appear to want to cooperate with researchers since initial discussion of Subject C. More direct testing may be required.

Rachel: Be wary of that, Agent K. Direct intervention may skew the results. Let the subject come to you first. Encourage her to do so without her realizing, if you can.

Kristen: Affirmative, Agent R. Subject M will control the pace of the experiment. Agent F may be able to get more results from the field this weekend.

Fernando: Agent F would like to state for the record that Agent K still owes him twenty bucks 

Kristen: Agent F should shut the fuck up

Rachel: lol

Steph: lol

Kristen and Fernando were up to something, and Max couldn’t figure out what.

They’d both spent an inordinate amount of time hanging out with her lately. That alone seemed pretty normal given that she was moving back to Arcadia in about two months. She appreciated the extra attention; she’d miss them both a lot when she finally left. They’d been good friends to her, even if they couldn’t replace Chloe.

No, what unnerved Max was how they seemed to be… watching her. She’d catch them staring, and they’d quickly look away. They regularly asked how she was feeling, if she was nervous about the move at all or needed any help prepping for it. Their questions — Kristen’s especially — sometimes felt more like an interrogation than friendly concern. 

She didn’t think they meant anything bad by it, but Max still wanted to know what was up. Kristen would never fess up, stubborn as she was. Fernando though, he was a lot more loose-lipped. If it were just the two of them, Max might be able to get something out of him.

Thus did she find herself sitting in one of about ten thousand clothing stores in Seattle’s largest mall. Given that it was a Saturday afternoon in summertime, the place was bustling. It made Max self conscious and uncomfortable to be around so many people.

Fernando barely seemed to notice the people. He ducked and weaved between the racks, humming and muttering to himself as he plucked out random garments and put them in a basket on his arm. He’d been at it for about ten minutes now, occasionally peeking his head up to ask Max a question.

“Say, how opposed are you to orange as a concept?”

“Uh… It’s… fine?”

“No, no orange,” he mumbled, shaking his head and putting a couple things back.

Watching him work perturbed Max. She’d figured that helping her find a fitting style would be difficult; she was about as styleless as it got. Fernando seemed to relish the task. He knew more about trends and fashion than anybody Max knew. Kristen didn’t have the patience for it, and had abstained from this trip. Max figured it presented the perfect chance to grill him.

Also to find some outfits Chloe might like. Secondary concern.

“Okay!” Fernando finally rushed over and offered her the basket of clothes. “Got a few different things we can try. I tried to keep the ensembles stacked together. Try one on, then come out and show me.”

“Okay…” Max took the basket with some trepidation. “Sorry in advance. I’m not exactly the best model—”

“Bah!” He cut her off with a wave of his hand and an outrageous French accent. “You make a fine model, mademoiselle. Trust in Fernando! He knows about ‘zese things, oui?”

“Oui oui,” Max said with a soft chuckle. “Alright. I’ll try not to kill myself getting these on.”

“Oui, ‘zat would be very tragic for my croissants.”

Max rolled her eyes at him before vanishing into the changing room. She could breathe a sigh of relief in here, away from prying eyes. Though she’d have to go back out in the open wearing whatever Fernando had picked. That was going to be… an ordeal.

His picks for the first outfit weren’t exactly helping soothe her anxiety, either. Black skinny jeans, a black shirt with a band logo she didn’t recognize, a studded vest to go over it? It screamed “punk” to Max, which was about as far from her as you could get.

Then again, Chloe seems to like the general punk aesthetic, so… No harm in trying it, right?

In theory, anyway. In practice the pants were so tight that she nearly tripped and smacked her head on a wall trying to put them on. The shirt and vest went on fine, but it felt… stifling. And at the same time, like not enough. Her bare and pale arms seemed to contradict the rest of the outfit, to say nothing of her face and hair.

Might as well show Fern anyway, since he’s helping me…

She slipped out of the changing room only after checking that no one was looking her way, and quickly ducked behind a nearby rack of pants. “Psst, Fern!”

He found her quickly, and to his credit, didn’t give her any shit for hiding. He looked her up and down with a critical eye. “Hmm. Well, the concept is there. It could work if we dyed your hair and got you some jewelry. Maybe a tattoo or three.”

Max shivered at the mere concept of needles. “Nope. Hard nope.”

“Yeah, I figured. Still thought it was worth a try. Punk isn’t really your vibe, anyway.”

Max narrowed her eyes at him, but he shooed her back into the changing room before she could ask what he meant. Well, at least she didn’t have to stay in this getup anymore. Though taking off the pants wasn’t quite as hard getting them on, she still sat down to avoid concussing herself. Not like this needed to be any more embarrassing.

The next outfit was surprisingly easy to put on, and rather comfy. Loose jeans, a pink tee, a gray zip-up hoodie. It seemed like something she might already have in her closet at home… Actually, it basically was like what she had at home. The only difference was that it was… well, new, instead of baggy and worn.

It does look better, but…

Fernando had much the same assessment when she came out, this time without sneaking. “Ah, now there’s a classic Max look. A bit cleaner, a bit more refined. Sling a messenger bag over your shoulder, maybe a bracelet or two, and you’ve nailed the lowkey hipster look.”

Max shifted her weight uncomfortably. “Sure, but… I was kinda hoping for more of a change, you know? More noticeable, I mean.”

He nodded, not seeming bothered at all that she’d rejected two of his three outfits. “Something to really stand out and catch her eye, but not look too bombastic or attention seeking, right. I think you’ll like the last one. If not though, we can keep this one in our back pocket.”

I guess that’s fair. If it turns out to be impossible to find a style, then I can always… Wait. Catch HER eye?

Yet again, she was shoved into the changing room before she could say anything. Max grumbled to herself as she changed. Clearly Fernando was still up to something even now, and it wasn’t hard to guess exactly what.

Kristen did say that even he’d clocked me, when we talked about Chloe… So does he know that’s why I want this? Why tiptoe around it?

She’d think of a tactful way to bring it up. Still one more outfit to try first.

The last set of clothes seemed simple at first, similar to the previous one. The jeans were a bit torn up at the thighs and knees. They hugged her, but weren't nearly as tight as the skinny jeans. Another band tee, white this time, and Max actually recognized the band. A red and black plaid flannel to go over it.

When she got it all on, she had to stop and stare at the mirror for a bit. It looked… good. Even on her. There was a hipster-ish vibe to it, while still feeling stylish and attractive. The flannel was a bit big for her, but that was an easy fix.

I can see myself wearing something like this at school… And I bet Chloe will LOVE it. 

Trying not to seem too excited, she strode out of the changing room with confidence. Fernando grinned and mimed like he was snapping photos. 

“Hell yeah, now this is a look! You’ll be turning the heads of every girl from here to Arcadia! How does it feel?”

“Good,” Max mumbled, blushing at his praise. “The flannel is a bit big, but good.”

“The flannel should be a little big, I think. We can drop it down a size though. Safe to say we have a winner then?”

“Definitely, yeah.”

“Awesome! I’ll go grab a few similar sets while you change back. You can nitpick the color choices if you want, but for back-to-school planning I think we’ll want to stay with some more autumnal shades on the flannels.”

“Whatever you say, dude. I trust you.”

“Horrible decision, really.” With that, he rushed off to the flannel racks and busied himself with finding more for her.

It was with surprising reluctance that she changed back into her basic, plain look. She’d always been most comfortable blending into a crowd, being someone that the eye passed over. Better to be behind a lens than as its focus. She’d still be most comfortable that way, and she’d likely still dress in her plain jane clothes on most days.

But she wanted Chloe to see her in a new light, as a young woman rather than the dorky little girl she’d grown up with. Max had considered how to accomplish that a lot in the months since her argument with Kristen. A new wardrobe was the simplest step in that process, to jog Chloe’s brain and make her realize, “Wow, my little dork’s all grown up.” Where things would go from there, Max couldn’t guess. But it offered hope.

Kristen was wrong about a lot of things. No chance in hell did Chloe like Max in that way. But that didn’t mean she never could. 

When plain old Max emerged with the flannel outfit under her arm, Fernando was there with a basket of several more. “Five sets should be good to get you started, I think! You can accent it really well with bracelets and necklaces, if you have any. These should work fine on their own, though.”

Max grinned and added the first outfit to the basket. “Thanks, Fern. Here I thought no style could possibly fit me.”

“Everyone has a style that works for them, Max. Some are harder than others. You were actually pretty easy, though. You have a distinct flavor that’s easy to accent.”

Max cocked an eyebrow at him as they made their way through the store toward the registers. “And what flavor is that? What would you call that style, exactly?”

Fernando looked away and scratched the back of his head. “Ah, well… I kinda just had to go for the, um… Hipster lesbian vibe.”

“...Huh.”

An awkward pause. “I thought it would fit you, you know?”

“Yeah, it does, I guess.”

He glanced at her. “I’m cool with it, you know? I’m actually gay myself.”

She blinked at him. “Are you? Huh. I wouldn’t have guessed. Cool.”

He frowned. “Was I not super obvious about it?”

“Not as obvious as I am, apparently.”

“Yeah, you are pretty obvious. And my gaydar is terrible.” 

“That makes two of us.” Max shifted uncomfortably as they got in line. “Have you ever… crushed on a friend?”

Fernando grimaced. “Well, my two best friends are you and Kristen, so I’ve managed to dodge that particular bullet. Sorry I don’t have much advice for you there. I’ve failed as your senior gay.”

She laughed humorlessly. “It’s fine… I’ll figure it out.”

“Hell yeah you will. I think you’ve got a shot. Especially in these.” He held up the basket of clothes.

No time like the present, then. “Is that why you agreed to help? To give me a shot?”

Fernando tilted his head. “It’s cause you’re my friend, Max. Sure, that’s a plus, but–”

“Are you and Kristen trying to set me up with Chloe?”

Well, that came out a lot more bluntly than she’d imagined. No turning back now, though.

For a split second, Fernando looked like a deer caught in headlights. He recovered by trying to mask it as a cough. “We can’t really set you up with someone we don’t know, can we?”

Max crossed her arms. “I guess not. But you pushed me to apply for Blackwell. You’re helping me get prepared to go there. You both ask a lot how Chloe is, how our letters have been. Kristen even grilled me once a few weeks ago about stuff that Chloe liked. I mentioned that she loves floral scents. Next thing I know Kristen is texting me a bunch of links to artsy shampoo brands. Now you’re helping me pick out clothes, and you’ve mentioned a couple of times how you think ‘she’ will respond.”

He pondered his next words for a moment. “We know how nervous you are that she can’t see you like that. Which you’re completely wrong about, by the way. We just wanted to help you feel a bit more confident about it before you leave, you know? You’re our friend, and Chloe makes you so happy. We both want that for you, so we’re doing what we can to help. Even if you leaving sucks.”

Max surprised him by pulling him into a tight hug. He quickly returned the gesture. She felt like she might start tearing up in the middle of this crowded clothing store. No, they couldn’t replace Chloe, but they didn’t need to. They were amazing friends in their own right.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, pulling away and wiping her eyes. “I don’t know if it will ever work with Chloe. It’s scary to think about. Terrifying, actually. But… I’ve decided I want to try. I don’t think I’d be able to say that if not for you two.”

Fernando smiled warmly and gave her an affectionate shoulder nudge. “It’s what we’re here for, dude. We gays have to stick together. I know you’d wingman for me in a heartbeat.”

Max laughed. “Damn right I would. Speaking of, any lucky lads of Seattle that have caught your eye?”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Let’s say there is one. What’s your first move as wingman?”

“I throw a brick through his window with your phone number written on it.”

That got a chuckle out of him. “Ah, the classical approach. Well you can save your bricks for now. The guys at school are… How to put it politely? Lacking in certain masculine charms.”

“They’re also mostly dickheads.” Max recalled with a flash of anger the incident where her comic was torn up by some asshole jocks for no good reason.

“That too. Alas, the search continues.”

“Well you let us know when the search turns anything up. Kristen and I will need to put any candidates through our rigorous seventeen step screening process.”

“Do I even want to know what the steps involve?”

“Probably not… Kristen is adamant that one of them needs to involve a jockstrap, for some reason.”

Fernando’s face went beet red. “I’m gonna kill her.”

“...Can I ask what–”

“No!”

Despite Max’s pestering, he refused to elaborate. He got a reprieve when they arrived at the counter to pay for the outfits. They stopped by a few other stores afterwards, but more to kill time than to shop. They had a lot of good laughs, dumb jokes, and a couple more heartfelt conversations about discovering sexuality and coming to terms with it. It brought Max some measure of peace, to know that how she felt wasn’t wrong or stupid. Though she might be nervous about rejection, she no longer felt ashamed.

And even if she never likes me back… I still won’t be ashamed. I’ll move on for the sake of our friendship, but I’ll never regret feeling like I do for someone so amazing. Never again.

Only a couple more months, Chloe…

Dear Heocl,

Remember how fast summers went when we were kids? It always seemed like, one minute we’re setting up our little inflatable pirate pool in your backyard, and the next we’re back in class again. Three months used to feel like three hours, back then.

Now it feels like the opposite. We’re only halfway through and this summer feels like it’s been going on for like nine years or something. And it’s not even like I’m just laying around waiting for time to pass! Prepping for Blackwell takes up a lot of my time, and whenever I’m not doing that I’m either being dragged out by Kristen and Fernando or pushed into “family fun” things by my parents. You ever tried playing water polo with my parents? Would not recommend it. My dad is not a graceful swimmer.

But I suppose that’s the funny thing about our perception of time, right? It passes based on how fast you want it to pass, but in the opposite direction. This summer is dragging because I’m looking forward to the end, and I never thought I’d say that. 

Yeah yeah, go ahead, call me insane, but I’m really looking forward to starting at Blackwell. So much to look forward to! The campus, the programs, the other photography nerds, having my own dorm. Oh, and being within range of Two Whales and its waffles. Can never have enough of Joyce’s waffles.

Hmm, but I feel like I’m forgetting something important. Or was it someone? Someone I really want to see. Their name is right on the tip of my tongue. Help me out here, you might know them. Kinda tall, short blonde hair, huge flirt, bit of an attitude, confident, smart, pretty, loyal, amazing, and a massive pain in my ass?

Nope, not ringing any bells here. But if you think of who that might be, tell them I really really miss them and can’t wait to give them a huge hug when I see them. After all, they mean the world to me, and everything will feel just a little more right when we’re together again. 

Just six more weeks. I’m counting down the days with bated breath. Almost everything is ready for the move here, now all that’s left is to wait. Fernando even took me shopping this weekend to get some new school outfits. And yes, they are actual outfits! They made me feel good in a way that I didn’t know clothes could. I’d send you some selfies, but I kinda wanna see the look on your face when I wear them for the first time. I really think you’ll like them. I hope you do. 

It’s kinda crazy how just a change of clothes can change how you see yourself, you know? Or how others see you. Makes you think. I don’t think I’d mind other people seeing me in new ways. It’d be nice to be seen not just as a nerdy hipster, but like, as a girl. By like… other girls. Maybe.

Oh yeah, that’s a thing by the way. Girls. Who knew, right? I’ve been nervous to tell you cause of… things. And stuff. But I know you’ll be cool about it. I’ll never like, perv on you or anything. Unless you want me to. Just say the word. Or the not word. You know, whatever. No biggie either way.

Yeah anyway I’m gonna pack the rest of my stuff now. And then put my head through a wall.

Your stupid idiot dummy,

Max

Chloe: Hey, just got your letter

Max: Oh yeah?

Max: So… what do you think?

Chloe: Of course I’m cool about it! I’m glad you trusted me with it

Chloe: I thought about saying this in my next letter, but I’m impatient so fuck it

Chloe: I’m gay too

Max: Oh! Well that just works out nicely then doesn’t it

Chloe: Yeah

Chloe: Very nicely

Chloe: Dude, GIRLS though

Max: Right? Lol

Max: Does this mean no more dick drawings in the margin of every letter

Chloe: Sigh

Chloe: Yes, no more dick drawings

Max: Thank god

Chloe: Good thing I’ve been practicing

Max: Uh, practicing what?

Chloe: Drawing PUSSY

Max: CHLOE NO

Chloe: CHLOE YES

Chloe: CHLOE ALWAYS YES

Chapter Text

Twas the night before Maxmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except Chloe Price’s gay ass.

To say she was stirring was a bit of an understatement. She’d been tossing and turning and twisting this way and that for the better part of three hours. No matter the position, under the covers or on top of them, pillow or no pillow, Chloe couldn’t find any rest. The body was willing, but the mind rebelled. Counting sheep and meditating and all the usual “mind quieting” techniques didn’t do shit against the big thing that blotted out all else in her brain.

Max was coming home tomorrow.

Max was coming home to stay tomorrow.

This would be the last night Chloe would have to sleep alone. No not like that (much as Chloe wished it were like that). Alone as in… alone in Arcadia. Not that she was really alone here anymore, since she had Steph and Rachel and—

Okay, so that phrasing didn’t work at all. Whatever, the point is, this is Chloe’s last night where Max is physically out of her reach. Starting as early as tomorrow night, she could sneak on over to Blackwell and slip into Max’s dorm whenever she wanted. Which— fuck, was that creepy? Or romantic? Where was the line? God she was so gonna fuck this up.

Or you can just ask if it’s okay before you do it, you spaz. Yeah, yeah, she could, couldn’t she? Thanks, Logic Chloe. Right. Asking things. Using her words. She could totally do that without saying too much and giving things away and oh my god she was gonna fuck this up.

She’d had anxiety about this sort of thing for months, but it was really ramping up now that only hours remained. With texts and letters, she could screen everything five times over before sending it. Calls were more of a minefield, but she could still hide a lot with just her voice.

Tomorrow though? It would be the first time they were physically together since Chloe had realized her feelings. Would she even know how to act around Max anymore? Would she have the self control to keep from doing all the things she daydreamed about, liking taking Max’s hand, or brushing Max’s hair out of her eyes, or kissing Max’s lips…

Damn it. Those urges were stronger than ever before, when she needed them to sit down and be quiet. Just embrace it! God damn you, Rachel.

There was another way that Rachel had talked about. That Steph kept prodding her about. That she found enticing, if terrifying. She could completely remove the threat of fucking up by just… talking to Max. Telling her.

She tried to imagine doing it, and her entire body instinctively recoiled. How could she possibly say it in a way that didn’t make her look clingy and desperate? Hey Max, you are literally the most important thing in my life and I can’t live without you, here’s the keys to my emotional stability which is entirely resting on your response, no pressure.

No, that was a dick thing to put on someone right after they moved and were prepping to enter their dream school program. There was probably a more tactful way to put it, but Chloe sure as shit didn’t know if she could manage it. She was still trying to rehearse exactly how to greet Max when she showed up, for fuck’s sake.

“Hey” is too simple. “Sup” is too casual. “Holy shit I missed you” might be too much. “How’s it hanging, daddio?” I’ve been hanging out with Steph too much.

God, fuck this.

She pressed a pillow to her face and groaned into it. Stupid Chloe and her stupid feelings. Stupid Max and her… everything. 

Chloe finally abandoned all pretense of sleep and lunged for her phone. Laying here stewing was getting her nowhere. The internet would only distract for so long before her mind drifted back to her conundrum. What she really needed was someone to talk to.

But who would even be awake at one in the morning? Sure it was a weekend, but since the dorm kids didn’t arrive until tomorrow there weren’t any big parties yet. Rachel went to bed early if there wasn’t something specific to stay up for. Steph was a night owl, but Friday night was raid night. No chance she’d get a response. None of her other school acquaintances were close enough friends to justify a 1 AM text.

Alyssa’s not really much for conversation… Dana’s probably up, but she uses more emojis than Max does… Kate probably goes to bed at eight like a good Christian… Why the hell do I even have Victoria’s number?

Chloe sighed and scrolled all the way back up her contact list, resigned to more sleepless tossing and turning. She paused at the top, thumb hovering over her one favorited contact. She bit her lip. Would she even be awake? It was possible. Was it dumb, given her worries? Absolutely. 

Before she could overthink it, she tapped out and sent a message to Max.

Chloe: You up?

And before she could even regret doing it, her phone was vibrating in her hands, displaying Max’s dorky beautiful face. She hit answer immediately.

“Chloe?” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper. Chloe turned her phone’s volume all the way up.

“Hey, Maxi,” she mumbled back, cautious of how lightly David slept.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither.”

Chloe frowned. “Why not?”

“Just… thinking about stuff.”

“Oh… yeah, me too.”

An awkward pause. Max cleared her throat. “What kind of stuff are you thinking about?”

You. Always you.

“Tomorrow,” Chloe said, hoping it was evasive enough. “Still trying to convince myself that it’s real. Doesn’t feel like it yet.”

“I know. It’s strange. All my stuff is in boxes and loaded up already. My room is so empty. But it doesn’t quite feel real yet.”

“It’s actually happening though, Max. Tomorrow… you’ll be here.”

“Yeah… tomorrow. Finally.”

Another long pause. Chloe shifted in bed and licked her lips, trying to work through the churning emotions working their way up her throat. 

“It… didn’t feel real back then either, you know? When you left. I kept expecting to find you eating breakfast downstairs, or playing in the yard, or… sleeping next to me. I’d ride my skateboard by your old house, and see someone else’s car, and be reminded ‘oh yeah, that actually happened.’ It’s kinda weird, actually. It still doesn’t feel real, you know? Like, we talk every day. I see your face all the time with your selfies. How can it both not feel real that you moved, and not feel real that you’re coming back?”

Max chuckled. “Obviously because I’m not real.”

“Oh don’t you start gaslighting me. My imagination’s not that good, Caulfield.”

“I don’t know about that… but I get what you mean. The last four years have felt like… a weird dream. Like I’m in between things, you know? And it’s had its good parts, like Kristen and Fernando. My parents seem a lot happier here. But I’ve always felt out of place. Guess I’m not much of a hipster, if even Seattle doesn’t feel like home.”

“Maybe you’re just more of a Portland hipster.”

There was that magical Max laugh that Chloe adored so much. “Maybe.”

The next lull in the conversation was comfortable. Chloe treasured that aspect of their friendship. The ability to simply be together, without needing to say or do anything, and feel content. This wasn’t a substitute for the real thing of course, but it wouldn’t need to be much longer.

“What time do you guys plan on arriving again?” Chloe asked, mentally double checking her plans for tomorrow.

“A bit after noon, I think.”

“Awesome, we can eat right when you get here before we get to unloading.”

“Dude, I’ve been salivating thinking about Joyce’s waffles. I think my mom is excited too.”

“She bought extra batter, just for you two. Oh, and spoiler alert, she’s gonna give you a standing invitation to breakfast at our place whenever you want.”

“Does she want me there every morning? That’s how she gets me there every morning.”

I’d love to see you every morning, was the immediate flirt that came to mind. Chloe managed to not say it, though she could feel her face heating up. That was going to be a problem come tomorrow. “I don’t think she’ll mind. David might, but eh. He’ll probably like you.”

“How are things with David, lately?”

Chloe paused for a second. “Honestly… fine. And it surprises me to say that. He’s… fine. I think… I kinda get where he was coming from, with his attitude when we first met? Like, he was fresh out of the army, and I was still having school problems and acting out all the time. Not saying he didn’t act like a huge dick, but I kinda see why? Not that I wouldn’t hate him if he kept that shit up. But he’s mellowed out a lot, as I’ve gotten better. I wouldn’t say we like each other yet. But I can tolerate him. I don’t immediately want to flee the state when he’s in the same room anymore. Baby steps, I guess.”

“That’s great, Chloe! I’m glad to hear that. That makes me less nervous about meeting him.”

“Well, maybe you should still be nervous. He did just get hired as head of Blackwell security.”

“Woah, really?”

“Yeah, so if anyone’s gonna bust your skinny ass for breaking curfew, it’ll probably be him.”

“Oh please, if I’m caught breaking curfew, it’s probably because of you.”

“Damn straight. You know, Blackwell has a swimming pool, and David will have the key…”

“I am not going skinny dipping in the school pool.”

“No one said anything about skinny dipping, but hey, if you really wanna see a piece of me—”

“Sh-shut up!”

Chloe laughed despite the nervous butterflies that comment brought. Max was so easy to fluster with flirting. She had to be more cautious about it now, but it was too cute to hold back entirely.

“I do think you’ll like it at Blackwell though. It seems like your kind of environment. All the artsy nerds will be eating out of your palm.”

“Only because you’ll be there too. I’d be too skittish to talk to any of them otherwise.”

“Objectively false. You met Kristen and Fernando, right?”

“Outliers that should not have been counted.”

“You’ll do great . I have faith.”

“I’ll… try. I hope I’m worth the faith.”

“You are, Maxi. You are.”

Yet another gap in the conversation. It gave Chloe a chance to wrestle with her emotions. How could laying here and talking to someone else make her feel so… She didn’t even have the right word for how it made her feel. She knew that it was good. She never wanted it to end.

“Hey Chloe?” Max’s voice was strangely tight.

“Yeah, Max?”

“We’re… friends forever, right?”

“Of course. Forever and always.”

“Even if… like, if I did something wrong? Said something I wasn’t supposed to, or made you feel weird being around me, or…”

Chloe sat up, putting on her serious face. “Max, what is this about?”

“I… just some stupid thoughts I was having. Anxiety brain and all that, it was stupid—”

“Your feelings aren’t stupid, Max. Anxiety brain might be, but your feelings are valid. And I promise you, there’s nothing we can’t work through, Max. If you ever did something to make me feel weird — which you haven’t, and I’m not convinced you ever can — then we’ll find a way to get past it, together. That’s what best friends do, right?”

“Y-yeah. I love that, about us. I feel like I can tell you anything, and we’ll work through it.”

“Damn right. Anything at all, Max. You can tell me. I… I know you’ll do the same.”

“I would, Chloe. Anything.”

Fuck. Max would, wouldn’t she? And Chloe knew that. Whatever she felt, they’d work through it together. Hearing Max say it was exactly what she needed to put down her festering anxiety. Traces of it lingered, but it wasn’t threatening to consume her anymore.

Chloe could tell Max how she felt. And even if she couldn’t feel the same, they’d work through it together. Their friendship would survive.

She could say it now. This was a heart-to-heart conversation, after all.

“Max…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m…” Fuck. No. Not over the phone. “I’m feeling a lot better now. Like I could actually sleep.”

“Good, good. I think I could too. But, um…”

“What?”

“Would you… stay on the call? While we sleep?”

Chloe’s heart skipped several beats. “S-Sure. Of course. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you, Chlo. It’s… weird, sorry. It just… feels like you’re here. With me.”

“It’s not weird. And I really will be with you tomorrow.”

“Well, I’m impatient. We’ve waited too long.”

“We really have. Worth it though.

“Yeah, it is.”

Chloe laid back down, putting her phone on speaker and setting it on her second pillow. She thought she could hear Max’s breathing. Her turmoil quieted, she probably could really fall asleep now. But she didn’t try right away. She turned on her side and watched her phone, thinking of the girl on the other end of the line. Hours away from here, yet still here with her. 

Max often said that every letter they sent was like sending little pieces of themselves. In a way, Max has always been here with her.

“Max?” Chloe whispers after a while. There’s no reply other than steady breathing. She smiles and closes her own eyes. “Sleep tight.”

She wants to say more. Perhaps some part of Max’s subconscious mind would hear. But even that feels like too much for right now. She’ll preserve the simplicity of this moment. Instead, as her mind finally drifts off, it runs off all the things Chloe’s kept locked in her heart. All of the words she cannot speak. Not yet.

You’re my angel, Max. You’re everything I wish I could be. I’ll walk through hell for you. I’ll kill for you. I’ll die for you.

I love you.

Chapter Text

Dear Chloe,

So. Moving day. Finally here! Blackwell is gonna be great I’m sure. More importantly though, we’ll be together again!

And that’s kinda why I’m writing this. The thought makes me giddy. Us, together. Not in the way that you’re thinking though. See, I kinda have this massive crush on—

Dear Chloe, 

Reunion day! I’m so excited to see you again. If you’re reading this, we already are! Sorry if I gave you too many hugs. It’s been too long since I got your hugs.

I’d love to get more of them, too. If you’re up for it. I hope you are. Are you? I don’t blame you if you’re not. It’s a lot, I know. Sorry to just drop this on you right when I show up.

Drop what? Shit, I forgot to say it didn’t I? Good going Max. Yeah anyway I’ve sort of been crushing on you since—

Heya Chloe,

So we haven’t seen each other since my visit and I kinda haven’t been able to stop thinking about how we kissed so don’t be alarmed if I see you and just immediately kiss you without warning cause you’re very kissable and I’d like it if we could kiss more often

Wait, I can’t warn you about it with this after it happens. Fuck.

Yo Chlo,

Is that offer to ride you instead of the bus still open?

Chloe,

You’re a fucking goddess please kiss me

Max groaned as she tore out and crumpled up yet another sheet of notebook paper. There had to be some way to say this without coming off like a massive dork, right? Finding words for her letters to Chloe was never this hard. 

But this isn’t just another letter. This is… the most important thing I’ve ever written, probably.

“How’s it going?” Mom asked, bringing her back to reality. They were in the front of Mom’s car, with all of Max’s stuff packed in the trunk and backseat. The sun was getting high in the sky; they’d been on the road for, shit, a few hours now? Arcadia Bay had to be close. Max was running out of time.

“Not great,” Max mumbled, setting her pencil to the paper again. Maybe if she started it like any other letter, and left the confession for the end?

“What are you trying to write, anyway?”

“Letter to Chloe.” Hmm. Open with a couple jokes, set her mind at ease first?

“We’re going to physically see her soon.”

“I know. But this is important.” Nickname in the intro? No nickname? How casual should she be about it?

“So important you can’t say it to her?”

Max dropped the notebook in her lap and covered her face with her hands. “Ugh! I don’t know how to say it! That’s the whole problem!”

Mom put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You don’t need the perfect words, Max. Speak with your heart. Chloe’s a smart girl, she’ll understand.”

Would she? Max wasn’t sure. She barely understood her own heart these days. It was a mess, a powerful mess. The intensity of it scared her. She definitely couldn’t dump all of it on Chloe at once. But how did she let even a little bit of it out without throwing open the floodgates?

Wait… does Mom…

“So… you know about…”

Mom squeezed her shoulder. “I do. And I want you to know that I completely accept it, Max. You and Chloe have always been good for each other. That’s part of why I’m okay sending you back to Arcadia alone, knowing she’ll be there for you.”

Well, Kristen and Fernando were always giving her shit about how obvious she was. It shouldn’t come as a huge surprise that her parents knew. At least she could skip the whole “coming out” ordeal with them.

“I’m scared,” Max mumbled, hugging her notebook to her chest. “I don’t know why. I know she won’t hate me for it. I know we’ll still be friends no matter what. But I’m scared anyway.”

“Everything worth doing is a little scary. Change is especially scary. You have to be brave, Max. And I know all too well that Chloe makes you brave.”

Yeah… she did. Max did things with Chloe she’d be far too chickenshit to do otherwise. “Secret” wine tasting sessions for example. Or… daring for a kiss.

“If you want my old lady advice, as someone who’s been around the block a few times? Don’t try to come up with the words ahead of time. It never comes out the way you planned. When the moment is right, you’ll know what to say.”

“...And if I’m still too afraid to say it?”

“Then you’ll know how to show it. Love is about more than just saying the words, Max.”

Love. Max had been hesitant to use the word, even in her thoughts about Chloe. That would elevate things beyond a simple crush. But it was already at that point, wasn’t it? You didn’t move states and apply to prestigious boarding schools for a crush. You didn’t stay on a call while you slept with a crush. 

“I… I do love her, Mom,” Max whispered, butterflies taking wing in her belly as she said it aloud for the first time. As soon as she spoke it, she knew it as ironclad truth. “I want to do this right. For her.”

“You will. I know it. And I bet Chloe knows it too.”

Max certainly hoped so. She had three and a half years of letters saying as much. And all the phone calls. And gifts. And selfies. And comics. Still, it helped to hear someone else say it.

And here I thought getting relationship advice from your parents was supposed to be mortifying.

She closed her notebook. “...Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime, sweetie. Anytime.”

Max spent the rest of the ride watching out the window. Her anxiety was still there, but it was gradually eclipsed by excitement. When the “Welcome to Arcadia Bay” sign appeared, she was practically buzzing in her seat. 

The woods ended, and the town came into view. You could see pretty much all of it from here. Blackwell on one end, the lighthouse on the other. Max paid them no mind. She was scanning the rows of houses for one in particular.

They started turning down residential streets. Max put her hand on the door handle. She had no clue what she’d say, or when she’d say it. But she could figure that out later. Right now, just seeing her again was more important.

One more turn. A familiar street. A familiar house. And sitting on the front porch, waiting for her… 

Max had the door open before the car fully stopped. They ran across the grass. Their collision was rough; Max had the wind knocked out of her. But then she was laughing and crying and squeezing and being squeezed and it all felt like the missing parts of her had come back, and she was whole again for the first time in years.

“Welcome home, Max,” Chloe whispered in her ear with a shaky voice.

“Chloe…” was all Max can manage past the lump in her throat. But she didn’t need to say more. She conveyed it in how she pulled Chloe in close, leaned her head against Chloe’s shoulder, let herself relax into Chloe’s embrace. She’d been daydreaming of this moment, and it couldn’t compare. Chloe expressed so much of herself with her hugs. The way she holds firmly, clasping with her hands like she’s scared Max will vanish at any moment. It makes Max feel safe. Treasured. Wanted.

Home. 

They stand like that for a long while. The adults are probably watching them. Max doesn’t care. She doesn’t want to let go first. She’s not sure she ever wants to let go. Luckily, Chloe doesn’t seem to be in any rush. She starts swaying gently, and Max moves with her. The motion is soothing. 

She smells earthy, like dirt and oil and rust. There’s a hint of something floral in there too. Not her usual floral, though. A new shampoo? Whatever it is, Max likes it.

“You got taller,” Max mumbled.

“You haven’t,” Chloe mumbled back.

“Shut up. I’m a late bloomer.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, squirt.”

Max sighs and nuzzles into Chloe’s neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“Same, Maxi. But you’re here now.”

“Yeah… And you better get used to me, cause I’m never leaving you again.”

Chloe holds her tighter. “Promise?”

“Triple pinky promise.”

“Damn. That’s serious, Caulfield.”

“I’m always serious about… us,” Max whispered, wondering if Chloe could feel how heart rate picked up. 

“We are pretty awesome…”

They pulled apart just enough to look at each other. They smiled like idiots with tears in their eyes. Wowzer, she was beautiful. The selfies couldn’t do her justice. Those eyes, lit up like stars for Max’s sake. She’d lose herself in them if she wasn’t careful. Why had there ever been any doubt? Damn the words, it would be so easy to close those few inches, get another feel of those heavenly lips—

“Girls!” Joyce yelled from the house. “You do want to eat at some point, right?”

Max and Chloe stepped apart, chuckling awkwardly and looking away. Max’s anxiety finally caught up with her. Damn it, that had been so close. Barely minutes had passed and already she was having a hard time controlling herself. Get it together, Caulfield!

Chloe glanced back at her, then did a double take. Her eyes went wide. “You… um… new outfit?”

Shit! Max had completely forgotten she was wearing one of the flannel outfits Fernando had helped her put together. She resisted the instinctive urge to cover herself, though she did reach across herself to grip her other arm shyly. “Y-yeah… you like it?”

Chloe worked her mouth up and down a few times like a fish. Her face was turning bright red. “It, uh… Great! You, good! I mean, look! Good. You look good! Great, even! Uh…”

Max beamed. Chloe was totally checking her out! Phase one of Operation: Make Chloe See Max As Attractive was going as planned! She had no clue what phase two was, but baby steps.

Chloe recovered, but only after tearing her eyes off of Max and looking at anything else. “So, uh… you hungry?”

Max’s stomach picked that moment to growl. “ So hungry. I’ve been waiting for Joyce’s cooking for months.”

“Dude, you are not going to believe how many waffles she made. You’d think she was planning to feed an army.”

“I could eat enough for an army. I didn’t eat breakfast just to save space!”

“Then let’s get you fed, girl! Can’t have you wasting away on me right after getting here!”

With that, Chloe grabbed Max’s hand and pulled her toward the house. Not that Max really noticed where they were going because Chloe was holding her hand. They’d done it millions of times as kids and it meant nothing. To Max now it meant a lot of things. Her grip was firm, her hand rough and calloused from skating mishaps and working with car parts. It fit in Max’s hand perfectly.

Max gave it two squeezes. Their old signal for Ready to follow you. Chloe gave one squeeze back in acknowledgment, then three more of her own.

I’ll lead for now. But I’ll follow you anywhere.

After Max, Vanessa, and Chloe collectively failed to conquer what Chloe dubbed Waffle Mountain, they moped about the kitchen and living room, groaning and bloated. Vanessa cursed Joyce’s cooking skill, to which Joyce gave a fond smile and a stern I told you so. 

Chloe, for her part, was groaning mainly from the effort of keeping her eyes off Max. That had been easier with food in front of her. She peeked through her fingers and confirmed that Joyce was out of the room, and both Max and Vanessa had their eyes closed as they moaned and clutched their bellies. Maybe a little looking was okay right now…

So she let her eyes wander to Max’s outfit and holy shit. Fuck. Not to be gay as hell but what the actual fuck. Shit. Jesus H Christ. God is real and he loves Chloe Price.

She’d thought flannels looked good on Rachel. Rachel may as well be wearing a trash bag. Flannel Max was an absolute goddess. And the way those jeans hugged her? Chloe couldn’t even be embarrassed about her eloquent reaction on the lawn; who the fuck wouldn’t be tongue tied at the sight of her?

And she said outfits, plural, for school? As in… she’ll be dressed like this all the time?!

Chloe was so beyond fucked.

After about an hour of groaning digestion, the group finally got back in motion, prepping to go to Blackwell. Joyce had put the remaining ten thousand waffles in plastic containers and was dressed in her waitress uniform; she had to work instead of helping Max move in.

“You’re welcome to any leftovers you want to take home, Vanessa,” Joyce said as they were getting shoes back on. “Max, of course, can pick away at them whenever she’s here.”

“Which will be a lot!” Chloe added.

“If I lived here I don’t know if I’d ever have enough time to get through them all,” Max said with an exaggerated shudder.

Vanessa laughed and accepted several containers of waffles. “Thank you so much, Joyce. Ryan would never forgive me if I didn’t bring some home for him. He really wanted to be here.”

“Well you’ll just have to bring him when you come down to visit Max. Anyhow, I need to get to the diner. Have a safe trip back north! And do be honest if anything noteworthy happens, won’t you?”

They waved at Joyce as she pulled away from the house, then Max raised an eyebrow at Vanessa. “What did she mean by that?”

Vanessa smiled, but pointedly avoided Max’s eyes. “Oh, nothing. Now, let’s get to Blackwell! Chloe, I’m not sure if we’ll be able to fit you with all Max’s stuff—”

“Oh, no worry, Mrs. C!” Chloe rushed over to the driveway and flung her hands out, striking a pose. “I’ve got my own ride!”

Max gaped at the sight of Old Faithful. “You got it working?!”

“Yep! Passed my license exam too! I can drive! ”

“You said you’d send pictures!” Max tried to sound offended. It didn’t work when she was grinning like an idiot.

“Well, I wanted to surprise you with it! Besides, you didn’t send pics of your new clothes, so I think we’re even.”

“Alright, fair enough. So, wanna take me for a ride?”

Like you wouldn’t believe. Chloe narrowly managed to stop herself from saying that out loud. She opened the passenger door for Max with a flourish. “Your chauffeur, madam.”

Vanessa eyed the truck uncomfortably. “Erm… Are you sure that thing is safe, Chloe?”

“As safe as any other chunk of metal zooming along at dozens of miles an hour.” When Vanessa didn’t seem impressed, Chloe rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, I take it real slow and cautious. I’ll get your little pumpkin there safely.”

Vanessa bit her lip, then sighed. “Fine… Just be careful, alright? I’ll meet you by the girls’ dorms.”

As soon as they were inside with the doors shut, Max raised an eyebrow at Chloe. “Little pumpkin?”

“What? You are little.” Before Max could even think about making a retort to that, Chloe fired up the truck. The sudden roar of the engine made Max jump. Chloe laughed. “Listen to this old girl purr!” 

“She uh, she certainly does purr,” Max chuckled nervously. Chloe didn’t miss how she gripped the seat when they started moving. “This thing is safe, right?”

“We’ll be fine, Maxi. Trust me.”

Those two words made her relax and loosen her death grip on the cushion. She eased up more when Chloe took the first turn slowly and carefully, thoroughly checking for traffic before starting. She didn’t do it just for show, or entirely for Max’s sake, though that did warrant more caution than usual. Ever since she first got behind the wheel a few months ago, she’d been considerate of every move, never taking her eyes off the road. Even Max’s amazing, sexy, bomb-ass style couldn’t draw her attention while she drove.

After all, one accident was all it would take. And these days, Chloe had a lot worth living for.

Not that she was against sneaking a few glances at each stop sign and traffic light. Max was gazing out the window with a wistful smile that got Chloe’s heart fluttering. God, Chloe had missed her smiles. They had this hopeful innocence to them that selfies couldn’t quite capture. They could make you feel like anything — even small things like a blooming dandelion, or a squirrel nibbling on a nut — was worth smiling about.

It was that exact attitude, the ability to see beauty in the smallest of things, that had saved Chloe. She hadn’t perfected the paradigm yet; she’d never be an artsy photographer like Max was. But now that Max was here, and here to stay, maybe she didn’t have to. She could lean on Max when she needed to appreciate the little things. And Max could lean on her for everything else.

“It’s like a dream,” Chloe said without thinking when they were only a couple turns away from Blackwell. “I’m driving my own truck, and you’re in it with me.”

Max reached over and pinched Chloe’s arm. “Not a dream, Chlo.”

“It used to be… Remember how much we used to daydream about this? One of our comics had getting a car as the entire mission!”

Max giggled. “Yeah, and it ended up looking like a pirate ship with wheels.”

“Man, the aerodynamics of that would suck.”

“Just put the sails out, easy.”

“I like how you think, First Mate Max.”

“Well Captain Chloe, this might not look like a pirate ship, but I’m sure she’ll be a fine vessel for you.”

“For us, dude! Think of all the places we can go! Two Whales, the junkyard, Two Whales, the beach, Two Whales…”

“How can you even think about Two Whales after the monstrous lunch we just had?”

“By looking forward to dinner, obviously.”

“I swear, you could give a hobbit a run for their money.”

“Hey, hobbits live the good life. Nothing but eating and drinking and growing shit. Why do people thirst after elves so much?”

Chloe had missed this too. The effortless banter, the way they can talk about nothing and it still feels more meaningful and engaging than conversation with anyone else. Interacting with other people always became draining after a while. With Max, it was energizing, more so than ever today. 

Would it be the same if I’d never sent that first letter? Part of Chloe wonders. Would Max have ever reached out without that push? If she showed up at Blackwell today after four years of silence, would I hate her for it? Could I still eventually feel the way I do?

An interesting scenario, but a pointless one. It didn’t happen like that. Max is here now, they’re closer than they’ve ever been, and things can only get better.

As they make the turn into campus proper, Chloe throws out an arm in a dramatic sweeping gesture. “Welcome to Blackhell! Population: seventy-percent assholes, twenty-four percent nerds, and as of today, one percent cute dorky hipsters.”

Max smacked her lightly on the arm. “And how big a percentage of the assholes do you count for?”

“How dare you! I’m solidly in the nerd camp.”

“That’s a matter of perspective, I think.”

“Hey, I grade myself on the curve that is the Blackwell asshole. Meet a few of them and then we’ll talk.”

That was going to be soon by the looks of things. The girls’ dorm was a beehive of activity, people shuttling belongings and furniture between the building and parking lot. Max visibly wilted at the sight of so many people. Chloe put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You don’t have to meet anyone today. Say hi back if they do, but focus on getting your stuff moved, alright? We’ve got all year to socialize. Besides, I know most of these girls a little. They won’t bother you much.”

Max took a deep breath, then put her hand on top of Chloe’s. “Thanks. Just… stay close while we carry stuff?”

Chloe dearly hoped Max couldn’t feel how sweaty her hand was getting. “Of course. You don’t even have much. We’ll be done before you know it.”

They sat there for a long moment, hands touching, before they finally moved to exit the truck.

Mercifully, Chloe was right. It took only a few trips each with Mom’s help to get all of Max’s stuff into her brand new dorm room near the end of the first floor hall. It was smaller than her room at home, and much smaller than Chloe’s room, but Max didn’t need much space. The main problem was how much it felt like a jail cell, with plain white walls and a plain bed.

Chloe helped her start fixing that immediately, going through Max’s massive collection of Polaroids and choosing shots to hang on the wall like a giant mural. She shot down Chloe’s plan to fill every inch of wall space right away; they had to leave space for new memories, after all.

That did mean Max had to be choosy about what went up. Some shots of herself with Kristen and Fernando got a prominent spot, to remind herself not to lose touch with them like she initially had with Chloe. The selfies of Chloe herself nearly all went up, of course. She hadn’t taken them, but that made them more important to her. 

The place was feeling much more cozy by the time Mom finished storing clothes and announced she was leaving for Seattle again. Not that she let Max go without a stern lecture on behaving herself. And another lecture about only watering her plant every other day. And another lecture about calling or texting often. And a long hug. And a bit of crying. Max might have cried a bit too, not that she’d admit it.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. C, I’ll keep her out of trouble,” Chloe said, throwing an arm over Max’s shoulders. Max was sure Mom didn’t miss how she blushed.

“Sure, Chloe,” Mom said in the doorway with a fond eye roll. “You keep her out of trouble, okay Max?”

“No promises.” Max nudged Chloe with her shoulder. Chloe humphed and looked away.

“Bye, Max! I’ll text you when I get home, okay? And… good luck.” She said the last part with a wink, then closed the door behind her.

And suddenly, the weight of it hit Max. She was… free. Sure she was here for school, but she was living on her own, away from her parents. It felt… exciting, but with a distinct undercurrent of dread. What if she failed? What if she forgot something important or couldn’t take care of herself or some emergency happened or—

Chloe pulled her around into a hug and squeezed. “I can feel you getting anxious.”

Max sagged into the embrace, then returned it. “You know me too well.”

“Nervous about living alone?”

“Yeah… Excited, too. But nervous.”

“That’s fair. Change is scary. Just remember that if anything happens, you’ve always got us. We’re not far away anymore. Joyce thinks of you like one of her own. You’ll be fine, no matter what.”

Yeah… Chloe was close by now. She wasn’t alone, not really. If she had her way, she never would be again.

“Thank you,” Max whispered.

“Anytime, Maxi.”

It was hard to be anxious about anything in Chloe’s arms. Even the fact that they were alone now for the first time all day. For the first time since Max recognized her crush. And the room had a bed.

Oh no brain, we’re so not going there right now, she chastised herself. Don’t ruin the moment!

Luckily, Chloe pulled away before she had much more time to dwell on it. “Well! We’ve got you all moved in, and the usual round of ‘meet your hallmates’ bullshit doesn’t start until tomorrow. What shall we do for the room’s inaugural hangout sesh?”

Several things came to mind, more than one of which involved Chloe pushing Max against a wall. Max went with the safest option. “Well, I’ve got my laptop… movie night? Can’t be a proper inauguration without Bladerunner, right?”

Chloe beamed and fist pumped. God she was adorable. “Hell yeah! You know I love me some Bladerunner.”

And that’s how they ended up sitting on Max’s new bed, backs against the wall, shoulder to shoulder, watching Bladerunner like they were tweens again. It had never been Max’s favorite movie, but she tolerated it each time for Chloe’s sake. Not that she could pay that much attention anyway, with Chloe so close.

It’s like I never left, and yet at the same time, it’s so different. Did that even make sense? How could she feel so comfortable around someone, and yet so tense at the same time? How could she be right up against someone, and still want to be closer?

An urge crossed her mind. She only fought it for a second. She’d seen Chloe once in the last four years, and she’d been so starved for her touch. She was allowed to indulge a bit. She shifted a bit, then leaned in and rested her head on Chloe’s shoulder.

Chloe stiffened, but relaxed before Max could worry. Then, she rested her own head against Max’s. 

Her heart rate picked up, but she didn’t let herself read into it. They’d always had this kind of quiet intimacy with each other, ever since they were little. Chloe especially was physical with her affection. That was one aspect of their bond Max hadn’t been sure about surviving through all their letters and calls. She was grateful it was still here after all this time, even if she wished it meant something more.

This is what I’m afraid of losing, Max realized. We’ll always be friends, no matter what. But this? Not a chance. I’d never keep this up with someone who felt that way about me if I didn’t feel the same… 

She’d thought about confessing today. Just rip the band-aid off immediately before it had a chance to do any damage. But she still didn’t have the words. And soft as this moment was, close as she felt to Chloe… she wasn’t quite ready to give this up yet.

I have time to decide when. Plenty of time. I’m here to stay. We’re together again. And nothing’s ever splitting us apart.

As the movie was winding down, Chloe nuzzled into Max’s head. “I forgot how warm you are.”

“Like your own little space heater.”

“Nah. Space heaters aren’t nearly as annoying.”

“Oh? Maybe I’ll just take my heat and go home.”

“You are home, dummy.”

Holy shit, she was right. This room was home now. What a weird concept. That would take some getting used to.

“Hey, Chloe?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For… everything.” Max shifted closer into her, trying to sort out the sudden rush of emotions. “For that first letter. I don’t know what I’d have done without that. I like to think I’d have reached out eventually, but… I was so scared, and so anxious, and time just made it worse. If you hadn’t pushed me… I don’t know where I’d be without that. Without you. I… I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to,” Chloe whispered back, her own voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. What would’ve happened doesn’t matter. We’re together, right now. We made it, Max. We made it.”

“We did… the last four years have been so hard.”

“The hardest. The worst. But it’s over now. The world tried to separate us, and we told it to fuck off.”

Max snorted lightly. “I’d go back and change it if I could. Stop us from moving. Get those four years back.”

“Even you can’t rewrite time, Super Max. Besides… those four years gave us a lot of good memories, even with all the bullshit. All your sappy letters and selfies? Wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

“I do love all the letters… I’ve kept every one. I brought them all with me.”

“And you’ll have another one to add to them today, by the way! I stuck one in your bag earlier. As a ‘Welcome back’ sort of thing.”

“Oh! I can’t wait to read it.”

“Well you have to,” Chloe grumbled, shuffling against Max. “No interrupting my Max cuddle time.”

Max chuckled. “No argument here.”

She dreaded the end of the movie, when they’d have to move apart, but as soon as it came Chloe immediately started another. Next up was Pirates of the Caribbean, another Max and Chloe classic. And after the credits rolled on that too, Chloe started up the sequel.

They sat together like that for hours, only reluctantly pulling apart for bathroom breaks and to scrounge up a meager dinner from what food Max had brought. They were always quick to nestle back into each other. At one point, Chloe even made a pouty face and grabby hands as Max returned to the bed. 

They didn’t say much, but they didn’t need to. It was enough to bask in each other’s presence, to be as close as they’d felt over four years of letters and calls. Chloe’s phone buzzed at some point, but she tapped out a rapid response before tossing it away.

The light outside faded, and then several more movies passed. Max’s eyes were getting heavy, but still she didn’t want this to end yet. Chloe didn’t either; as the credits of the final Pirates movie finished, she closed the laptop and set it aside, but made no move to pull away from Max. They sat together in the dark for a long while, the only sound being their hushed breathing.

“It’s pretty late,” Chloe whispered.

“Getting sleepy,” Max murmured.

“…I guess I should—”

“No.” Max hugged Chloe’s arm and pressed her face into Chloe’s neck. “Stay.”

Too forward? Probably. Max was too tired to care.

“…Okay. Bedtime though.”

“Mmm. Bedtime.”

They separated only as long as it took to crawl under the covers of Max’s new bed. Tired Max had no qualms about cuddling right up into Chloe, sighing blissfully as Chloe wrapped her arms around her. They’d shared a bed so many times as kids. Why should now be any different? She was only madly in love with Chloe now. No biggy.

“You’re cozy,” Max mumbled.

“You’re warm.”

“Too warm?”

“No. Perfectly warm. I’ve… I’ve missed this.”

“I’ve missed you, so much… You’re all that matters to me.”

Was that a confession? Of sorts, she supposed. Even so, it felt appropriate to say right now, when the only things that existed were the two of them.

Chloe’s breath hitched, and they were so close that Max could feel her pulse quicken. She hugged Max tighter. “S-same, Max. You’re so important to me… it's scary how important.”

“No need to be scared… I’m never leaving you. Never again.”

“Never, huh… I hope I’m worth it.”

“You are. You always have been.”

Should Max just say it now? The moment felt right. Emotions were running high. Chloe would understand. She might not pull away. She might even…

But Max was fading far too fast, despite her best efforts. There would be more moments. She’d do everything in her power to make sure there were plenty of moments like this one.

“Good night, Chloe,” she managed to slur out.

“Good night, Max.”

That night, Max slept more soundly than she had in a long time. And when she dreamed, she was hand in hand with a beautiful blonde punk, laughing and smiling without a care in the world.

Dear Ms. Caulfield,

Allow me to be the first to welcome you to the prestigious Blackhell Academy For Pretentious Nerds! We thank you for choosing our historic institution for all your artsy hipster educational needs. We’ve thoroughly reviewed your scholarship submission and found that you blew all these other twats out of the water, so you’ve effectively won already! Nevertheless, we thought it might be helpful to give you a crash course on what to expect from the peasants you’ll be sharing space with.

Attached to this very important and official document, you’ll find a helpful map of your dorm facilities. Please refer to it with these notes. Your room should be appropriately marked.

Across the hall from you is resident Queen Bitch Victoria Chase. She talks a lot of shit and thinks she’s all that and more, but really she’s just a stuck up bully. You probably can’t avoid running into her since she’s also in the photography program, but don’t pay any mind to what she says. Having reviewed your entrance materials, you’ll kick her ass at photography any day of the week. Failing that, your helpful and sexy tour guide will happily kick her ass for you.

Next to her you’ve got Brooke Scott, resident nerd. Though unlike your stereotypical nerd, she’s not afraid to get in your face about shit if she doesn’t like you. She’s cool, I respect it. You might see her flying a drone around from time to time. Mention that you know it’s a HiFly B400 EVO, and you’re sure to get on her good side.

On the other side of Queen Bitch is the complete opposite of Queen Bitch herself, local saint Kate Marsh. She looks like the stereotypical bible thumper, but she’s actually really sweet. You’d be good friends with her, based on our profile of you. She has a pet bunny that’s super super duper cute and fluffy. Become friends immediately to gain access to the bunny.

A bit further down the hall, right across from each other, are the Blackwell gossips, Dana Ward and Juliet Watson. It’s rare you’ll find one without the other, always looking for juicy deets to share around at the next Vortex Club party. They’re actually not so bad; Juliet will remember details about you no one else cares to, and Dana will go up to bat for you against the other Vortex freaks if she likes you. Just don’t share any state secrets with them and you’ll get along with them fine.

Ah, and then, at the very end of the hall, you have Rachel Amber and Steph Gingrich. Those motherfuckers. What massive tools. Only a complete idiot would ever hang out with them. Fun prank: go right up to Rachel without introducing yourself and say, “I know what happened on Valentines.” Take a picture of her reaction and deliver it immediately to the Price residence. Trust me it’ll be funny.

That’s all the girls on your floor! I only know a couple of others from the floor above you. Alyssa is cool, if a bit quiet and sort of blunt. Samantha is really sweet if you can get her to talk to you. Taylor and Courtney are Victoria’s lackeys, so avoid them like the plague.

As far as the boys go, I’d say avoid most of them unless otherwise noted. Especially Nathan Prescott. Dude gives me the creeps and his parents pretty much run the town. Justin is cool, same with Trevor and Hayden. You’ll probably get along with Warren, though you’ll want to discourage any “ideas” he gets immediately. Evan can be a prick, but you might be able to bond with him over photography stuff. 

And that’s a basic rundown of all the mooks you’ll regularly run into on your journey to photography stardom! There’s a lot more people at Blackwell of course, but we can’t detail all of them here (I’m lazy and that would be way too much paper). If you have more questions, please direct them to your bodacious tour guide. She’ll be happy to talk your ear off in exchange for hugs and food.

To round up, let us remind you of the ground rules for your new dorm room. No sleepovers allowed, except for Chloe Price. No shouting or loud noises, unless it’s from Chloe Price. Your room must be kept tidy at all times to leave space for messes made by Chloe Price. Chloe Price is allowed access at all times. Chloe Price does what she wants and you should remind Blackwell staff of this at every opportunity.

That’s all for now! We hope this information has been informative at informing you of the information. Your tour guide will be happy to show you around properly when she breaks into your room at 5 AM tomorrow morning. Sleep tight, and enjoy your stay in Blackhell!

Your amazingly beautiful hot sexy tour guide,

Definitely Not Chloe Price

[Attached to the letter are two hand drawn maps. One is of the broader Blackwell campus, the label of which has had the “w” scratched out and replaced with an “h.” The second is a more detailed map of the first floor of the girls’ dorms. Each room is labeled with a name, save for one, which is labeled as “Some fucking dork with a Polaroid.”]

Chapter Text

When Chloe woke up holding Max, she thought she was still dreaming at first. 

Max was pressed against her, face nuzzled in Chloe’s collarbone. She was so soft, so warm, so… perfect. Sure, the arm trapped under Max was completely numb, but what did that matter when she was holding Max? Chloe squeezed her gently, terrified the dream would end soon.

“Morning,” Max’s groggy voice whispered against Chloe.

“Shit, sorry,” Chloe whispered back. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’fine. I’ve been awake for a bit.”

Awake like this for a bit? Chloe swallowed. “You could’ve woke me up. I’ve kinda trapped you.”

“Nah. I’m right where I wanna be.”

Oh, it was so unfair. Max had no idea the effect she had on Chloe when she said sappy things like that. Then again, Max’s head was close enough to Chloe’s chest that she could probably hear the heart palpitations as they occurred.

If she did, she chose not to say anything. They laid there in silence for a while, with Chloe doing her best not to focus on how Max’s bare legs felt against hers. Now was not the time to have impure thoughts.

Instead, she focused on the fact that Max was here. Really, truly here, and she wouldn’t leave this time. Chloe could hold her again, like she did when they were kids. It was completely different now, of course, but it didn’t feel like it. 

Is it different? Chloe mused. Or have I always felt this way, and took forever to realize? 

A distant buzz sounded from somewhere on Max’s floor. Neither of them budged so much as an inch. Chloe’s stomach growled, and still she didn’t move. She had no idea what time it was, and she didn’t care. Short of the building burning down, nothing could make her give this up.

Seized by a sudden surge of courage, Chloe shifted her not-trapped hand up to Max’s hair. She let the strands run between her fingers, over and over again. Max hummed contentedly.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Chloe whispered, letting the bravery of the moment spur her words. “I don’t ever want to let you go again.”

“Then don’t. I won’t argue.”

Chloe licked her lips and swallowed, her throat suddenly bone dry. “People might notice if I stay here too often. They might… assume things.”

“Let them,” Max said, her grip on Chloe suddenly tightening. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I won’t give you up. Ever.”

Chloe opened her mouth. She wanted to say, “What if they didn’t have to assume? What if they were right about you and I?” The words wouldn’t come out. God it was hot in here. Max was like a furnace. Fuck. Come on, Price, spill your guts already!

“Chlo? You okay?”

“Yeah,” she managed. “Max, I…”

A sudden knocking at the door startled them both. Chloe groaned. Seriously, could whoever that was have waited for five more fucking minutes? Maybe if they ignored it for long enough they would go away.

The knocks came a second time, and Max sighed. “I should probably get that.”

“Probably…” Very, very reluctantly, she loosened her hold on Max. With what seemed like equal reluctance, Max pulled away from her and rolled out of bed. Chloe’s heart ached the instant they were no longer touching.

Classy, Chlo. You get her back for less than a day and you’re already getting clingy. You’d better not drive her away with it.

When Max laid eyes on Rachel Amber in the flesh, she knew she was doomed.

Max recognized her immediately, though she was still taken aback. Chloe’s amateur photos hadn’t done her justice. Everything, from her pretty face and her long hair, to her radiant smile and well-fitted flannel, exuded a level of self confidence Max could only dream of. Even just standing in Max’s doorway, she looked like a goddamn model. Before she said a word, Max could already feel herself being pulled into Rachel’s orbit.

If this was who Chloe was hanging out with all the time, setting her standards for attractiveness… What possible hope did plain old Max have?

“Hi! You must be Max, right?”

Oh god even her voice is beautiful.

“Y-yeah,” she croaked, painfully aware of how pitiful her own voice sounded by comparison. “You must be Rachel?”

“The one and only!” Rachel said with a warm smile. “Is Chloe up yet, or still dragging her feet like usual?”

“Oh, fuck off, Rach!” Chloe’s voice called before Max could answer. “How’d you even know I was here?”

“Your junker’s still parked outside, dumbass,” Rachel called back with a smirk. “Now come on, up and at em. Even for a Saturday, eleven o’clock is pushing it.”

“Are… you two going somewhere?” Max asked, feeling her barbs start to come out. It was an unpleasant but not unfamiliar feeling; it had crept up every time Chloe had mentioned Rachel in her letters. Max had no real right to feel that way, but—

“Only if you’re coming too! I thought the three of us could meet up with Steph, my gf, and all get lunch together at Two Whales. Sort of a welcome home thing for you, and a chance for me to grill you about all of Chloe’s most embarrassing childhood stories. Sound good?”

Oh. Right. Steph. Rachel’s gf. Max’s barbs retracted, and she let herself smile. “Two Whales always sounds good. And I do have many embarrassing Chloe stories—”

“Oh don’t you even start, Maximus!” Chloe called again amidst the rustling of her climbing out of bed. “I have just as many stories about you!”

“I highly doubt that, Price,” Rachel said, crossing her arms. “If anything I’m willing to bet all the stories about her were somehow caused by you.”

Max snickered. “Yeah, Chlo, I was a perfect child until you corrupted me.”

Chloe finally appeared behind Max, beanie and all, with mock fury on her face. “Like hell. Don’t let her cuteness fool you, Rach. This one is a gremlin in disguise.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’ve never mentioned that in all the times you’ve told me about her. The many, many times.”

Both of their faces went beet red. Chloe sputtered out something that Max couldn’t process, fixated as she was on what Rachel just said.

Chloe… talked about me? A lot? To HER?

Rachel laughed and clapped them both on the shoulder. “Alright, come on, losers. I’m hungry and Steph will be waiting. You’re driving, Chloe!”

With that, she started up the hallway. They followed as if tugged along by her force of will. Max could already see why Chloe had been so enamored in that first letter about her. She had this sort of… magnetism to her.

Steph must be a rare kind of woman to capture her attention…

But even Rachel couldn’t hold Max’s attention for very long, and she found her gaze drifting back to Chloe. She’d awoken wrapped in her arms, cuddled close to her, warm and safe and… God, what a perfect morning. She’d daydreamt about that for months. To think, she could have that all the time now… possibly even more, if she could manage to find her courage and say something… 

Fat chance of that anytime soon; she couldn’t even work up the guts to reach out for Chloe’s hand.

Not that she needed to for the contact she craved. When they got to Chloe’s rusty death trap, Rachel graciously opened the door and gestured for Max to climb in. This put her in the middle of the cramped cab… right up next to Chloe. 

“H-Hey,” she breathed as their shoulders pressed together.

“H-Hi.” Chloe swallowed. “So! Two Whales. Been a bit since you’ve been there. Whatcha gonna get for your first meal home?”

“Can’t beat the Belgian waffle,” Rachel said as she climbed in. “Joyce makes the best damn waffles in Oregon.”

“I think I got my fill of waffles yesterday.” Max shuddered. “I’m gonna go with the bacon omelette today.”

“Also a good choice. I think I’ll copy you. Chloe, of course, will order too damn much and hate herself for it later.”

“Yep.” Chloe popped the P. “Not a single lesson will be learned today.”

Max rolled her eyes. “Good to see you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Speaking of that! About those Chloe stories—”

“I swear to god, I will turn this truck around.”

“Bullshit. You can’t resist Two Whales.”

“It’s true. She once snitched on us when Joyce bribed her with some fries.”

“ One time! You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“I got grounded for a week! And so did you!”

“Yeah, well, at least I got fries.”

“That you didn’t share!”

“You didn’t ask!”

“This is so much better than anything that’s on TV.”

They bickered while Rachel laughed for most of the drive over to the diner. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, all three of them were laughing. It eased the worries in the back of Max’s brain. Her dynamic with Chloe didn’t have to change at all to accommodate Rachel. If anything, Rachel seemed to revel in it.

But there was still one more potential stumbling block to overcome. As they entered the familiar diner, they were immediately set upon by another cute girl in a beanie. She appraised Max with a frown, then asked a single question.

“Alliance, or Horde?”

Max blinked. “Uh… Horde, of course.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed. Then, she smiled and nodded at Chloe. “You choose your friends well, Price. I approve.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Nerds.”

“You’re one to talk,” Rachel said, stepping up to the girl and pecking her on the cheek. “Hey, babe. As you clearly already know, this is Max. Max, this is Steph.”

“Heard you played WoW from Chloe,” Steph said with an earnest grin. “We’ll have to talk shop later, maybe even link up for raid night sometime?”

“Ohhh, that’d be good! I haven’t been on a raid in a long time, never could find a good group to stick with long term.”

“I’ve got you covered, sister. My clan’s almost all queer folk, we’d love to have you.”

Max perked up. “Awesome! I’m… not really in any queer spaces yet.”

Rachel snorted and ushered them into a booth, sitting beside Steph. “Girl, you just moved into Blackwell. Queerest place there is.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Not sure there’s a single straight girl living in that dorm.”

“Kate?” Chloe suggested.

“Perhaps. But my gaydar is rarely wrong. And it’s always the quiet Christian girls.”

“Better not be hearin’ you giving that sweet Marsh girl grief over here, ladies,” a familiar Southern drawl said. Joyce arrived at the side of their booth in her usual uniform, carrying a pot of coffee. She smiled at Max. “So nice to see you back here again, Max. Let me guess, bacon omelette?”

Max smiled back. “You know me too well, Joyce.”

“It’s on the house, hun. What do the rest of you bums want?”

They gave her their orders - Chloe ordered way too much as predicted, to which Joyce just fondly rolled her eyes - then went back to chatting. The ease with which Max found herself integrating into the established group made her anxious little heart sing.

Steph had a quick wit to match Chloe’s and was into a lot of the same stuff Max was as far as games and music. They went off on long tangents that earned more than a few “dorks” from their respective companions. Steph was planning to go into game design, and expressed a good deal of interest about Max’s photography. Apparently she had some ideas about a software engine that could generate realistic game worlds from photos. Max didn’t know anything about that, but Steph made it sound super cool.

At first glance, they seem an odd couple, Max mused when she eyed Rachel and Steph’s locked hands. A girl like Rachel with a nerd like Steph? But when she starts going on about things like that, the way she lights up, and the way Rachel looks at her… Rachel is the type of person who appreciates passion, in whatever form it comes in. And Steph clearly appreciates someone with drive, which Rachel has in spades. If an unlikely pair like them can work, then… 

The conversation slowed a bit when their food arrived. Chloe scarfed it all down with frightening speed, earning a laugh from Max when she groaned and clutched her belly. She’d been that way since they were kids, always diving head first into everything. 

Being with her again, in this place that meant so much to both of them growing up, with new friends and a whole future ahead of them… Only one small change could make it everything Max wanted.

This could be a double date . If I’d gotten the balls to say something this morning, before Rachel showed up… Too late now. Soon. Maybe. God, if only I could practice saying it beforehand, maybe I wouldn’t lock up… 

“…hear about that, Max?”

Max had to tear her eyes off Chloe and look at Steph. “Sorry, hear about what?”

“The photographer in the news this morning, Jefferson?”

Max blinked. “You mean Mark Jefferson? I know some of his stuff. Why?”

“Apparently he died last night. Awful car wreck.”

“Oh shit. That’s horrible.”

“He was supposedly angling for a job at Blackwell, too,” Rachel said, finishing off the last of her food. “Ah well. Photography program here is already stellar.”

“Might be karmic justice, or something,” Chloe added.

Max frowned. “What do you mean?”

Chloe shrugged. “Dunno. Famous people are usually pricks. Dude probably had some freaky skeletons in his closet.”

“Probably. Anyway, on the subject of photography…” Rachel smiled across the table at Max. “You’re the big scholarship recipient this year! You obviously have a good eye. Maybe you can help us with a little something…”

“Why the hell are we back here already?” Chloe grumbled, trudging along after Max, Rachel and Steph. “We could go to the skatepark, or show Max the clubhouse.”

“Patience, padawan,” Steph said. “This’ll be quick and painless. And it’ll be great for Max’s portfolio, too.”

Max half-chuckled and reached across her body to clutch her other arm; she was nervous. “R-Right. Okay. What kind of shots do you want again?”

Rachel brought the group to a halt on Blackwell’s sunny front lawn, which bustled with newly moved-in students exploring or lazing about in the shade. “We already have a bunch of the school itself, that’s boring and typical. Doesn’t really scream theater department, you know? We need something with a bit more… character to it. Things that show off what makes Blackwell Blackwell. ”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “The shithead clique? The drunk principal? Oooh, maybe even the plaques of Prescott’s name on fucking everything!”

Max shifted her weight and fidgeted with her camera. “I get what you mean, but I only just got here. I don’t really know what makes Blackwell yet.”

“Au contraire, dear Max. You only just got here, so you haven’t absorbed everything about Blackwell as your new normal yet! Compare it to your school in Seattle. What jumps out at you? What’s different?”

That seemed to get the gears in Max’s head turning. Her eyes carefully swept the campus, analyzing every possible focus, angle, lighting, and probably a thousand other photography terms Chloe didn’t quite grasp. Within moments, she was wandering off onto the lawn and snapping pictures of some graffiti art that had been sprayed onto one of the side buildings.

“Now you’ve done it, Rach. We’ll be here all night.” Chloe sighed fondly. She couldn’t really be annoyed at Max when she was so clearly in her element, doing what she loved. She was meshing with Blackwell and Chloe’s friends so much better than Chloe had expected for the first day. Drawing her out of her shell was so much easier than it used to be.

We’ve both changed a lot. But it’s mostly been for the better. Now we’re both here. Finally.

“So,” Rachel said, turning toward Chloe. “What are you going to do about her?”

… fuck.

“…I don’t know,” Chloe mumbled. “I tried to say something this morning, but I locked up. It wouldn’t come out.”

Steph nodded in understanding. “Keep trying. It’ll happen eventually. It’ll be good for both of you when it does.”

“You think?”

“Dude, she’s been glued to you since she got here. The way she hung on your every word at the diner? She’s got it bad for you.”

Chloe didn’t know about that. Max had seemed her usual mushy self so far. That was just how their friendship was. Confessing would jeopardize that in a big way. Would Max ever be comfortable waking up with Chloe again if she knew?

Would Chloe be able to stand cuddling Max while trying to hide her feelings again?

“Soon,” Chloe said with a nod, more to herself than anything. “Soon.”

That seemed to satisfy Rachel. “Good, good. Max is cool, a lot like how you described her. I’m glad she’s here. This year will be fun.”

“Yeah, fun.” Chloe tried to focus on that instead of the building anxiety about how she’d just committed to confessing, something Rachel was definitely going to hold her to doing. 

“In case you missed it while you were shoveling fries into your mouth,” Steph said, “Max is interested in joining a campaign with us! Hope you still have Barb’s character sheet laying around.”

“Nah, fuck Barb. I can come up with something better. Something with actual backstory, and more murderocity.”

“You truly are a crime against spoken language, Price.”

“Hella right.”

Rachel shook her head and turned away to look for Max again. “Think we could get her into miniature photography? Would be really cool to see some shots of our characters in…”

She trailed off, frowned, and inclined her head. Chloe followed her gaze towards Max, who was… letting her camera dangle by its strap, forgotten. 

Sitting on a bench in the shade, with crossed legs, modest clothes, and properly done up hair, was a pretty girl with a soft smile and obvious kindness in her eyes. Kate Marsh, resident closeted Christian girl. She was looking up at Max and saying something. Max responded with strangely eager motions of her hands. Then she knelt beside Kate and pulled several Polaroids from her bag. She leafed through a few for Kate, who watched with rapt interest.

Chloe’s heart skipped a few unpleasant beats. It was rare that anything could pull Max out of her photography fixation once she was in it. Usually it only happened when her sights found something… exceptionally beautiful.

“Huh. Figured they’d be friends eventually, but not until semester actually started.” Steph said, obviously trying to keep a flat tone of voice.

“They’re not anything yet,” Rachel noted pointedly. “Just chatting. They’ll definitely be friends though. It’ll be good for Max, I think, to have another friend outside of us. Means she’s branching out, right? That’s what we want for her, to make more friends .”

Yeah. Yeah, yeah, Rachel was right. Chloe had known Max and Kate would make a great pair. Of friends. Should she be surprised they were already gravitating towards each other? No, this was all as expected. No reason to feel… whatever this was.

She actually managed to convince herself of that, and the feeling mostly retracted. That is, until Max came running back over — practically almost skipping — and beamed at the three of them. “Got a lot of shots I think you’ll like, Rach! And I talked to Kate, and you were totally right, Chlo, she is super cool and I think we’ll get along great. She’s in photography too! We agreed to go get tea sometime and talk shop! I bet she has all sorts of interesting tips about framing small animals…”

And immediately the feeling came back. “W-Whoa, Max,” Chloe managed past the knot in her throat. “Been back for less than twenty-four hours and you’re already racking up dates? Save some for the rest of us, huh?”

Max just rolled her eyes. “Whatever you wanna call it, dude. I’m just glad I’ll have someone to chat photography with that won’t be bored to death. Speaking of! I wanna show you the shots I got, there’s actually a surprising amount of character in just this one part of the courtyard, and we can definitely find more…”

She launched into a very animated dialogue about the pictures she’d gotten. Rachel and Steph both nodded raptly, but kept shooting concerned glances at Chloe. They needn’t have bothered. Chloe was fine . Not like she was internally having a crisis or anything.

She… didn’t deny it being a date. Does that mean… No, no, Kate Marsh of all people has to be straight… But at the diner, Rachel said her gaydar was going off on Kate…

She tried to put it out of her mind. It was her first full day with her best friend back after all. They still had so much to do. 

And they did. They took Max to the junkyard hideout, where Max added her name to the tags. They cruised by the old skatepark, where Max showed off how little she’d improved since they were tweens. They even went for dinner at somewhere that wasn’t Two Whales. Max seemed more and more relaxed with each passing hour, chatting effortlessly with Rachel and Steph. She hung on Chloe’s arm, idly reached for Chloe’s hand at times, and still looked at Chloe like she wasn’t sure if Chloe was real.

Chloe herself barely took notice, busy as she was wrestling with a roiling vat of emotions. She was overreacting. Obviously. It could very well be nothing. 

But the ground she’d been standing on had already been shaky. This was a sudden jolt she wasn’t prepared for. A sudden wrench named Kate Marsh.

When the night finally drew closed, Chloe left Max at her dorm room door, citing the need for a shower and change of clothes. Really, she just needed to try to process this on her own. Thus, she ended up alone in the junkyard, joint in hand and back on the hood of a rusted car, watching the stars.

It’s probably nothing. You’re being too clingy. You’ve always been too clingy. Max can have other friends. And even if it IS something… She can… see people, if she wants. I’ll support her. It won’t come between us. Nothing can.

If Chloe couldn’t be sure of anything else, she could at least be sure of that… she hoped.

Rachel: Code Pink

Fernando: Code pink???

Kristen: Code pink???

Steph: Yeah. The quiet Christian girl, of all people,

Kristen: Shit. 

Kristen: Any possibility it’s not legit?

Rachel: I don’t think anything will come of it. Max is way too into Chloe. I’m worried about what Chloe thinks though.

Fernando: God damn it, Max

Fernando: Okay, what’s the plan?

Rachel: Damage control. Try to get answers out of Max, confirm it’s not leaning that direction. We’ll try to keep Chloe above water as best we can. She’s said she wants to confess soon. This could end up helping us, if we play it right.

Kristen: Any port in a storm, I guess. I’ll shoot her some texts, ask about her day, and Chloe. Will report back.

Fernando: Already on it, and

Fernando: Brace yourselves for this one lads

Rachel: Oh no

Steph: Oh no

Fernando: Max says she wants to confess to Chloe soon, so she’s looking at this tea thing with Kate as a sort of “practice date” for talking to someone cute one on one over food

Kristen: …

Steph: I need a very stiff drink

Kristen: Okay real talk for a sec, how long are we gonna try to puppeteer these two before we outright TELL THEM what we know about the other’s feelings? This could get out of hand really fast at this rate

Rachel: We’ll keep that in our back pocket as a last resort. I want it to be them with some nudges in the right direction, you know? More romantic that way.

Fernando: Won’t be romantic if they end up growing apart over jealous misreads.

Steph: We know. We’ll keep a close eye on Chloe. Make her see reality, somehow.

Kristen: Best of luck. I’ll try to talk to Max about her… BRILLIANT plan.

Kristen: Save me some of that drink when you’re done, S.

Fernando: Ditto.

Chapter Text

Chloe,

So it royally sucks that school’s started again, and we have literally NO CLASSES together. I blame it entirely on you being too smart for your own good. Curse your advanced chemistry curriculum. And with our parental units’ strict moratoriums on cell phone usage in class, it’s not looking bright for our stalwart heroes. How ever will Super Chloe call Super Max mean names when she does something lame? How ever will Super Max draw attention to Super Chloe’s galaxy sized brain when she says something smart?

But wait, cries Super Max! That’s right, our heroes have an old tool up their sleeve: the written word!

You did say you wanted to keep writing letters to each other, and I think this is the perfect situation for it. It looks like note taking, and since we’ll pass them in the halls, no risk of trouble! Let me know what you think. I’m already excited about the thought of getting more letters from you.

-Max

Max,

If my brain is galaxy sized, yours is universe sized you beautiful shrimp. I love this a lot. Way to talk to you with no risk? Check. Distraction during boring af class? Check. Something to look forward to throughout the day? Check. Oh oh oh and you can attach some photos that you take in your camera nerd class, for camera nerds. 

I’m kinda glad I’m not in that actually, awesome as having you in a class would be. Being around Victoria and her cronies? Blech. Hope they don’t ruin it too much for you. I know you’ve been crazy looking forward to that class.

My first chemistry class so far is pretty dull. Don’t really know anyone here other than Warren, kinda? Idk I’ve never vibed with him. He’s fine I guess. Miss Grant seems cool too. I feel like the class will pick up eventually, but you know. Syllabus week. As if none of us know how a semester works.

Looking forward to our next fleeting rendezvous in the hall, my miniature Maxitron.

-Chloe

Ugh I kinda wish we got a syllabus week in photography. We’re already getting assignments. This feels criminal. I demand a lawyer.

At least Miss Jones seems cool and like she knows her stuff about photography. I think I’ll actually learn a lot. This is probably gonna be a class where I’ll keep my notes short to actually pay attention.

Victoria and her friends haven’t been bad so far. She keeps giving me weird looks, but we’ve never talked, so I don’t know what that’s about, but whatever, I get weird looks a lot. And Kate’s in this class too, so that’s a plus!

P.S. I am not looking forward to lunch. The fuck is a “crispito?”

Ah. Well, that’s good at least. No Steph or Rachel in any of my classes so far, so I’m feeling a bit lonely at the moment. Alyssa was in my biology class, I guess she’s cool? We haven’t talked much though.

Did I or did I not call it when I said you and Kate would make good friends? I totally called it. I mean, you guys just clicked right away, you know? Total chemistry. Are you going on that tea date with her soon? I feel bad that you kept putting off just because I wanted to hang out the last couple weeks. Seriously, don’t let me get in the way here. Go shoot your shot, Maxinator. Kate’s cute. And nice. And has a bunny. Did I mention the bunny? And you could go on photography dates. That’d be cool, right? Actually having someone that knows what the hell you’re talking about when you talk shots? Lord knows I rarely do.

Anyway. Yeah. When tea? When date?

P.S. It’s like a tortilla they fill with meat and cheese that’s been processed about five times too many, then they fry it. It’s as horrible for you as it sounds but it’s actually kinda tasty.

I’m glad you like Kate so much! Honestly though, I’m not sure “date” is the right word. I was calling it that originally but Kristen’s been on my case about how it’s a bad term to use if it’s not like. A romantic thing. Which it isn’t, I don’t think? I’m not sure if Kate leans that way. My gaydar is shit and she’d probably have loads of experience going stealth with it.

But yeah, Kate and I will be going on our first tea outing this Friday after class. Apparently there’s a tea shop in town run by this wise old guy that’s super good. His nephew’s supposed to be kind of a dick though. Here’s hoping we can dodge him.

Oh yeah, the Jasmine Dragon! Steph’s taken me there a few times, and god damn that old guy gives good advice. His nephew’s actually not too bad these days, apparently he’s been trying to turn over a new leaf.

Heh, get it? Like a tea leaf? I’m funny.

Would you want it to be a romantic thing? I have a pretty good gaydar, and I’m pretty sure Kate is not on the straight and narrow if you get my meaning. There’s the whole Christian thing but tbh that probably just means she’s into some weird shit. But you like weird shit, cause you are a weird shit. I say if you want it, go for it.

Good to know your interest in backseat driving my love life through your pencil hasn’t faltered with our reunion. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t go anywhere though. That ship is sinking before it even makes it out of the harbor.

God, the smell coming from the cafeteria is a bit nauseating. Like more so than usual. Calling it now, the only good thing about lunch will be sitting with you.

What makes you say the ship is sinking?

We’re really gonna pass single sentences while we sit right next to each other?

I mean to be fair the look on your face when I handed you an index card was hilarious.

Fair. These crispitos are gross by the way.

Pass yours over then you uncultured swine.

Fine, dick.

Shorty.

Low blow.

Not as low as you.

Yeah I walked into that one. Anyway, let me answer your question with another question to ponder over next class. Do you believe in multiverse theory?

To put on my Science Nerd hat for a moment, there’s actually a few distinct categories of multiverse theory. The one I’m most inclined to believe isn’t really a multi verse. Rather, it says that a single universe of sufficient size would eventually start to repeat itself if you traveled far enough, as there are a massive but finite possible arrangements of atoms and energy. Ergo, if you flew into space for long enough you’d eventually expect to see copies of you. Even that one has its holes because of the innate complexity of life, and the assumed difficulty of biogenesis as the solution to the Fermi paradox.

Alright maybe I’ve watched a few too many YouTube videos on this subject. Eat me. I like space stuff. Space is cool.

Nerd hat back off: I’m going to assume for argument’s sake you’re talking about the most commonly referenced multiverse model, where there’s a parallel universe created for every unique branch of events. In which case I’d say eh, not really. Even if I did believe it, it wouldn’t change much would it? It doesn’t affect us any. Why do you bring it up?

Yeah, that is what I meant. The parallel universes part. That other part does sound interesting though, even if I can’t quite wrap my head around it. Have I ever mentioned that you’re smart? Cause you are.

Anyway I bring it up because like. How to phrase this? Kate is cute and nice and talking to her is so easy and we have a lot in common. I feel like we could easily make a good couple in one of those parallel universes. Just not in this one, you know? Feels like this one is…pulling me elsewhere.

Oh? To another of Blackwell’s many esteemed bachelorettes, mayhaps? There are some fine women around here. Even if one of them is named Victoria. Ugh, I hate that I just wrote that. Burn this note after reading it. If I ever say those words again in any context, tie me to the goddamn train tracks and leave me there.

If you’ve got your eye on someone, I’m sure I could help you formulate a plan of attack. I’ve been told I make an excellent wingman. Wingwoman? You know what I mean.

There may be someone I have an eye on, yes.

You’re gonna make me wait an entire class just for a vague line like that, and right before last period? Evil. Jail for Max, jail for ten thousand years! Fine then, let me unload a whole barrage of questions on you, and you can answer them via text when class lets out. What’s her name? Is she pretty? Is she smart? Is it someone I know? Is it someone I’d approve of? Is she willing to suffer through Spirits Within with you? What’s her home address and the last four digits of her SSN? Do you need me to play wingman? Do you promise to still leave time for me even when you’re married and have seventeen children on a ranch in Nebraska?

Max: A ranch in Nebraska?

Chloe: Idk it seems like it’d be your thing. Rustic farmhouse, some chickens, a nice little photo studio in a big barn

Max: Lol maybe not

Max: Sorry though, I’m only answering one of those questions right now. The rest, I might tell you later. If you behave.

Chloe: Maaaaaaax

Chloe: Don’t you trust me

Max: Of course I do. You know I do. This is just… hard for me to talk about. It’s hard to put into words. It’s scary to even admit. I’m trying to work through it, I just. I need time, you know?

Chloe: Believe me, I get that. I’ve. Actually got my eye on someone too. And it’s scary as hell to admit. Feelings are fucky. I wish I could share them with you like I do everything else, but. Anxiety is a bitch.

Chloe: Point is I don’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell me. I’m here whenever you want to though, okay? I’ll listen. I’ll be supportive.

Chloe: As long as it’s not fucking Victoria, please, you can do so much better

Max: Lol it’s not Victoria

Chloe: Oh thank god

Max: But same to you, Chloe. You don’t have to share everything with me. But I’m here and ready to listen whenever you’re ready.

Chloe: Thanks Maxipad

Chloe: Anyway you said you’d answer one of my questions now? Still waiting on that

Max: Lol don’t get excited, it’s the obvious one.

Chloe: I knew your mystery girl’s SSN was 123-45-6789

Max: Lmao

Max: Not quite 

Chloe: Not getting any younger here Max Attax

Max: I’ll obviously always have time for you, Chloe. Even in the timeline where I somehow end up ranching in Nebraska. Max and Chloe forever, right?

Chloe: Yeah. Forever.

Chloe: Your mystery girl is gonna get so fucking sick of me lol

Max: Somehow, I don’t think that will be an issue.

Max: Anyway what are you up to with the evening? We could do a movie at my place

Chloe: Movie night is exactly what I need after today. I’ll grab snacks on the way back over

Max: Have I ever mentioned that you’re the best?

Chloe: It could always stand to be mentioned more

Chloe: So I get to prove you wrong

Rachel: Doubtful, but what about

Chloe: Max apparently isn’t going on dates with Kate, but she does “have her eye on someone else”

Chloe: So. Game over for me, I guess. She’s apparently so down bad for this mystery person that she thinks Kate and her “can’t happen in this timeline.” No point in trying to shoot my shot.

Chloe: I’m not crying you are

Rachel: …okay what exactly did she say about this “mystery” person? Any details at all?

Chloe: Nope. Just that she apparently won’t get sick of me. So it’s obviously not you or Steph lol

Chloe: I’ll figure it out. Detective Chloe is on the case. Then I’m gonna be the best wingman possible and hope that helps me cope

Rachel: Chloe, you’re the smartest idiot I’ve ever met.

Chloe: I mean, thanks? I think? Why specifically

Chloe: Rachel?

Rachel: screenshot.png

Rachel: I literally cannot make this shit up 

Kristen: Oh you have got to be fucking kidding

Fernando: I need to get checked for blood pressure at this point jfc

Steph: I need considerably more weed than I currently have

Fernando: What the hell do we even do with that? 

Steph: Ugh. Useless lesbians.

Fernando: Said the useless lesbian

Steph: Excuse you I saw my shot with Rach and I took it

Rachel: It’s true, she was smooth af too

Kristen: Damn girl slay

Kristen: Now give Max and Chloe some of your game ffs

Steph: No can do, all of my game is required for D&D

Fernando: Too much to hope for that you could get them in a campaign and contrive them into confessing their feelings through their characters?

Steph: If I try to plan that, it won’t happen. No plan survives first contact with the party

Fernando: True true. Ugh these bitches really gonna play the dumbest game of chicken ever huh

Kristen: Be strong, Fern

Kristen: The dark times must one day end

Rachel: I wish I had your optimism. To be honest, I thought they’d have snapped by now. At least a kiss or two. All my expectations are out the door

Rachel: I’ll try to think of another plan. In the meantime? Try not to let the Idiot Pining drive us all mad.

Chapter Text

Pssst hey Max

Uh, hey Chloe. Rough first period? That might be your shortest note so far. Not that I’m keeping track, or that it needs to be long! Some days and classes are just like that.

Ugh. Feels like for me it’ll be photography today. We’re getting group assignments for our next round of shots, and we’re supposed to work with someone new. Since I already worked with Kate a couple weeks ago I’m not sure who’ll even be willing. Evan maybe? He can be a bit abrasive but he knows his stuff. I feel like I wouldn’t completely hate my life working with him. Plus from what I hear he’s got a boyfriend, so hey, no awkward unwanted flirting.

Alright yeah I’ve talked myself into it. I’ll ask him in class. Hope your day gets better!

Nah my shortest was calling you a shorty. It was real short, like you

Also does this mean your mystery girl isn’t in photography with you or are you just too chickenshit to ask her to pair

Okay first of all, rude.

Second of all, your continued attempts to sus out my “mystery girl” are funny for reasons I can’t tell you, but I’ll indulge you. No, she’s not in photography with me. In fact, she’s expressed gratitude that she isn’t, specifically because she doesn’t like some of the other people in it. 

On the subject of photography, Evan agreed to pair with me, and he actually complimented me on my compositions! He did immediately undercut that with some pretty scathing criticism but from what I’ve seen he does that to everyone, himself included. I think he’s a bit like you in that he speaks his mind without care for what other people think. 

So, yeah, my major worry for the day is mostly averted. How’s your morning been?

Cool so I need a list of all the girls in your class, I will process of elimination this shit. Does she hate Victoria? Probably does. That doesn’t narrow it down at all but it means we’d probably get along

Anyway congrats on the partner acquisition, my day is pretty eh

Oh believe me, I think you’d get along great. Better than you know.

(Gotta keep this one short, we’re practicing for our test in history today)

Nice, hope the test goes well

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, why? Also, you gonna eat your butter sandwich?”

“Oh, no, here. Your notes have all been really short today. Busy morning or is something up?”

“Busy morning. Gearing up for the first big chem test, you know how it goes.”

“Just checking in. Sorry, I just… get anxious that I’ve done or said something wrong.”

“You literally never have, but in the unlikely event that you do, I’ll tell you. Promise.”

“Okay… Thanks, Chloe. I hope the rest of the day isn’t quite so busy for you.

“Don’t worry for me too much, squirt. Your mystery girl might get jealous.”

“Doubtful… Hey, can I have your leftover potatoes? The entree wasn’t very filling.” 

“Sure thing. Gotta keep you properly fed if you’re ever gonna break five feet.”

“Hey!”

So Mr. Crux is apparently out with some kind of back injury today and they couldn’t find a sub in time, so we get a surprise study hall. Course I’m already caught up on homework thanks to you (you’re an absolute goddess for helping me so much and I’m eternally grateful) so I guess I’m just gonna ramble at you a bit. Almost like old times!

Does the second half of the day ever drag on to you? Feels like the first half is so much shorter despite being the same number of periods for the same number of hours. Maybe it’s because there’s no lunch to look forward to. Or maybe because the sleep deprived haze fucks with my perception of time.

Time is weird in general. You think it’s this constant thing but it really isn’t, cause how your brain is at any given moment can affect how you feel it. And then apparently it’s not even constant outside of that?? Like it gets distorted by black holes like it’s a physical thing? That’s kinda scary. Cool, but scary.

I keep thinking back to all our talks about what powers we’d have in our comics, what ones would be useful and what ones would be more trouble than not. Here’s a good one: Imagine a person being able to distort time like a black hole. What would you do with that kind of power? If you could freeze specific moments or undo all your mistakes, skip the boring bits where you’re left with nothing to do but wait? Would your life be perfect, all the sudden? Does it being perfect cause it to lose all meaning? Cause suddenly moments aren’t moments anymore, you know? If you can live in it forever, doesn’t it stop being special? If you could undo everything, does that mean you’re the only person with any agency in the universe? If you fast forward through the dull bits, do the exciting bits then become dull without that contrast?

Time in general is on my mind a lot these days. Hard not to be when all the teachers keep shoving college stuff at us. The future is scary. But to be honest, I don’t think I’d want that kind of power over it. Like yeah I have moments I’d love to keep around, things I’d undo, things I’d like to skip. But I’m also happy with where I am. It’s all led me to being here at Blackwell, here with you again. And facing the future isn’t quite so scary with you at my side, you know? I’ll gladly slog through all the boring bits at mortal speeds if I can be bored next to you.

Study hall with no distractions gets me introspective, huh. At least I’m doing better than Dana, who has literally resorted to playing paper football against herself. I think she’s losing.

Hope your afternoon is a bit more stimulating!

Oh wow okay that’s deep. Love introspective Max. Now I feel bad about how short all my notes have been today.

And this one is gonna be too, but there is a reason! You gotta be patient though

I agree btw- time powers, no bueno. Give me shapeshifting any day

Oh? A reason? Well now you’ve intrigued me. Alright, I can be patient. If I survived weeks between letters delivered by snail mail, a few hours for whatever scheme you’re concocting surely won’t hurt.

Shapeshifting would be a cool one. What would you turn into first? I think I’d try the guy version of myself. Yes, for the obvious reason, but also just to see how the other side lives for a little bit, you know? I’m pretty confident in my gender, but I think it’s natural to be a bit curious about that sort of thing.

After that I’d probably turn into a doe and go hang out in the woods. I’ll poke back into town to visit you though. You’ll have to open doors for me since I won’t have opposable thumbs anymore. Unless I shapeshifted into a doe that did? What would that look like? Horrifying probably.

Hope that image helps with whatever secret thing you’re doing!

Believe it or not, that image did not help at all. Your mind is a fascinating place, Maximillian. Its inner machinations are truly an enigma. (Insert milk carton tipping over)

And if you won’t say it, I will: I also shapeshift into a dude, specifically to helicopter my dick around a bunch. And then I turn back, because eugh, dicks. I am quite comfortable with my gender. Being a girl is great. Girls are great. 

Girls. Like this note if you agree

Like!

Only one more period for whatever you’re cooking, Price! Unless it’s a multi day thing. I can be patient, but. I miss your longer notes. Yes, even the ones that are obviously meant to make me laugh in class. You dick.

Okay that’s not fair. You don’t even have to try to make me laugh. Even your unfunny jokes (yes, you do have those) make me laugh. You’re too eager and earnest for them not to work for me. It’s damn hard to avoid a smile when you’re involved. It’s why all my selfies turn out alright. I just have to think of you.

Want proof? Here’s a selfie I just took. That smile? For you. Hope you like it!

“Hope you like it” my ass, you know I can’t resist a Maxicillan selfie, my one true weakness! You really went and became beautiful at some point didn’t you? You’ve always been cute, but this is getting unfair. Save some hot for the rest of us, we’re all starving down here!

Anyway, my plan is to pass this off to you before I leave campus, so I can finally say:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAX!

Oho, yeah, that’s right, did you think I would just leave it at a quick “happy birthday” this morning? Nope. This is a momentous occasion. A national holiday. Alternative title: The Day Chloe’s Life Got Meaning. 

I struggled for a while to think of what to do for you today. You really cramped my plans when you said no spending any money on you. You know I was researching Polaroid accessories? For fuck’s sake I was about ready to ask VICTORIA for help picking something out. It’s lucky you told me when you did so I didn’t brave that inferno for nothing.

I thought about doing a drawing for you like I’ve done in the past, but that’s just it, I’ve done that before. This is the first birthday you’re back for in years, so I wanted to do something a bit different. Then I got to thinking this morning, oh, I’ll already be writing stuff for her today. Why not write her a little something?

So, I wrote you a… song/poem thing. Or at least, I attempted to. All my notes have been short today cause I’ve been agonizing over it instead of paying attention. (We actually do have a test upcoming, I’m just confident I’ll ace it so I don’t have to give a shit about prepping)

I’ll be honest, I’m a bit nervous and embarrassed. I am by no means a poet or a lyricist. I have no idea if this follows whatever the “proper” style for this kind of thing is, if the meter is correct or the word choice is good or if the phases of the moon are currently aligned properly. It’s just… Me, I guess. Trying to express myself to you through words, in all their flaws. I hope you like it. Feel free to tear me a new one if you don’t, though.

Happy birthday, Max. You’re my partner in crime forever.

Months without your touch,

The warmth of your embrace,

Is the distance just too much,

Or can we fill the space?

In the storm I would’ve drowned,

Alone and far from land,

The will to live again I found,

With my name in your neat hand.

I bleed into these pages,

Till tears have left me weak,

I’ve held these in for ages,

The words I cannot speak.

These envelopes each hold

Parts of me I never show,

And when we’re gray and old,

Only you will ever know.

We share our hopes and dreams,

Our many faults and woes,

And when one’s tearing at the seams,

Just what to say the other knows.

Can I share what’s in my heart,

Can I say it before I freak?

I’ve no idea where to start,

With words I cannot speak.

To hold you now is everything,

I’ve waited these long years,

Your smile makes me want to sing,

Your laugh is music to my ears.

Each moment with you is dear to me,

It’s as true now as it was then,

If aught but death part me and thee,

I’ll cross the world to find you again.

I fear my pen has failed now,

This is barely even the peak,

I need to let you see somehow, 

All the words I cannot speak.

Yes I’ll show it every single day,

I’ll brush the tears off of your cheek,

Until I find the courage to say,

The words I cannot speak.

Max: :’’’’(

Chloe: What the hell is that

Chloe: Is that supposed to be an emoji

Chloe: NO EMOJI

Max: It’s a crying face

Chloe: Why crying face???

Max: Because I’m crying, idiot

Chloe: Oh no no no was it that bad?

Chloe: God damn it I’m so fucking sorry I knew it was stupid

Chloe: I’ll do you a drawing instead

Max: Shut up dummy

Max: I like it

Chloe: You like it even though you’re crying?

Max: I’m crying because I like it

Max: Because I love it

Max: I love-

Max: I love it

Chloe: … Really?

Max: Yeah, really.

Max: Thank you, Chloe. So so much

Max: Best birthday gift ever

Chloe: Didn’t I literally send you Spirits Within fanfic last year

Max: And that is now at a distant second.

Max: Best. Ever. Just like you.

Max: I don’t even

Max: Have the words

Max: to say how much this means to me

Chloe: Words you can’t speak?

Max: Exactly. I’m. This gives voice to so many things I’ve never known how to say before.

Max: You have to know that this all applies both ways, right? I’d cross the world to find you too. Being with you again is everything 

Max: You are everything

Max: Where the hell are you? I need to give you a hug, ten minutes ago. I don’t plan to let go for a while either

Chloe: Oh shit

Chloe: Threaten me with a good time why don’t you

Chloe: Right now I’m in my room, but I could come back to Blackhell if you want

Max: Don’t move a muscle. I’m on my way. There will be hugs. So many hugs. And maybe some crying. Happy crying though

Chloe: I do love your hugs

Chloe: For all the shit I give about your height, you’re the perfect hugging size

Max: I could say the same of you

Max: Brace for the hugpocalypse

Chloe: The best way to go tbh

Rachel: Well? Did it work?

Chloe: I’m honestly not sure

Chloe: I mean. We’ve been hugging and cuddling in my bed for like two hours now. She doesn’t want to let go of me. She cries sometimes. She keeps saying how much she loved it

Rachel: …That sounds like it worked, how can you not be sure

Chloe: I mean there’s still whoever her mystery girl is right? And we hug and cuddle all the time anyway so it’s not like this is out of the ordinary

Rachel: Chloe

Rachel: I know you literally just wrote a big thing about how you can’t say the words

Rachel: But for fuck’s sake, SAY THEM NOW. She cannot possibly have missed what you were implying with all that, and she’s all emotional and goopy about it. She is literally clinging to you. You will never get a better chance.

Chloe: I don’t want to spoil this moment

Rachel: I am going to pummel you with a tennis racket and shove it up your ass.

Chloe: Kinky

Rachel: Chloe. Seriously. If not now, when? And do not fucking say never.

Chloe: Rachel. Seriously. This is too important to me to risk.

Rachel: You are starving yourself and her, and frankly it’s painful to watch. It was funny at first, then it was annoying, but now it’s becoming sad. You could have so much more and you just decide not to, for no reason!

Chloe: I have my reasons and you know them perfectly well. I want Max to be happy.

Rachel: YOU make her happy, Chloe. She wouldn’t be clinging to you right now if you didn’t.

Chloe: I couldn’t make her happy in that way. Not like whoever Mystery Girl is. You should see the way Max talks about her in notes. 

Rachel: I’d bet all of Arcadia Bay that it’s the exact same way she talks about you.

Chloe: Max is smarter than that, Rach. She knows me better than anyone, all my rough edges and rotten spots. I’d never fall for me, in her position.

Rachel: You know what the beautiful and cruel thing about love is?

Rachel: You don’t get to decide how she feels.

Rachel: What brought this on, Chlo? You’ve been better about the self hate since she came back. 

Chloe: You wouldn’t get it.

Rachel: I wouldn’t get self hate? Try me.

Chloe: You’re fucking right, okay? There’ll never be a better time than now. She’s goopy, she’s happy, and she’s everything I’ve ever wanted and could ever want, and there’s nothing on this godforsaken planet that could hope to replace her. And I STILL CANT MAKE MYSELF SAY IT. The words catch in my throat and it feels like I’m about to vomit. I’m fucking coward, Rachel. I’m a coward who can’t say three simple words, and she deserves someone who can and will say it, who will scream it for all the world to hear. How can you say that I’d be good for her when I can’t even tell her that I love her? Doesn’t she deserve that? 

Rachel: You both do. And even if you’ve never said the words, you both show each other every day in a thousand other ways. You even said so yourself in your poem. You’re both just too blind to see it.

Chloe: I wish I could believe that. I really do.

Rachel: You will. I’ll find some way to get it through your thick skulls.

Rachel: How about a halfway point? If you can’t say the magic words, perhaps a consolation prize is in order.

Chloe: What the hell does that mean? 

Rachel: The Fall Formal dance is coming up, the weekend before Halloween. Ask her to go with you.

Rachel: For the love of god, do not even bring up the “mystery girl.” This isn’t about anyone else. It’s about you two. Can you manage those words?

Chloe: Rachel…

Rachel: Do it or I’ll ask her my damn self.

Chloe: And how would Steph feel about that?

Rachel: Delighted, three is enough to start a small D&D campaign at one of the snack tables. 

Chloe: …True.

Chloe: Goddamn it. Fine. Fine. I’ll ask her.

Chloe: I swear to god Rachel, if this goes wrong

Rachel: Do you trust me?

Chloe: Against my better judgment, yes

Rachel: Then go for it. Let me know what she says.

“Hey, Max?”

“Mhm?”

“Oh shit, were you sleeping?”

“Dozing a little. You’re very comfy.”

“O-oh. Sorry.”

“S’okay. What’s up?”

“Well, I… wanted to ask you something.”

“Anything. Go ahead.”

“There’s apparently a dance coming up? The Fall Formal?”

“Oh, yeah, Kate was talking about that the other day. She was asking for tips on how to ask someone to go with her.”

“Wait, really? Who?”

“She didn’t say. I didn’t have any advice to give, so it was a short convo. What about it?”

“Well, I was thinking… maybe we could go? Together?”

“…O-Oh.”

“I mean, no pressure, if you’d rather go with someone else or not go at all, fuck, sorry, forget I even—”

“No no no, it’s okay, I’m just… surprised, I guess. I figured… you’d be asking somebody else.”

“Why would I ask somebody else when I could ask you?”

“You really mean that?”

“Of course I do. You’re… you’re you.”

“…”

“…”

“…Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. Let’s go to the dance together.”

“O-Okay. Cool. Awesome.”

“Very cool. Very awesome.”

“Yep. The coolest and awesomest.”

“Are… you gonna wear a suit?”

“Of course, you know I wouldn’t be caught dead in a dress.”

“Right… I’m sure you’re going to look… dashing.”

“If by dashing you mean roguish and sexy, then yes.”

“Y-Yeah. I’m excited now. I can’t wait.”

“…Me either.”

Rachel: Well?

Chloe: I hate when you’re right

Rachel: So always?

Rachel: Do you have a date to the dance?

Chloe: I have a partner for the dance 

Rachel: Oh don’t even try to pull that bullshit, it’s a goddamn date and I won’t hear otherwise

Rachel: Good job though, seriously. Proud of you. That was probably hard

Chloe: My palms are drenched and I think my heart nearly exploded

Rachel: I’m sure you’ll recover

Rachel: We’ll talk outfit shopping and day-of plans later. For now bask in your cuddles, with your DATE. 

Chloe: Fine, but only because I want to, not because you told me to.

Rachel: Of course, of course.

Chloe: Hey, Rach?

Chloe: Thank you.

Rachel: It’s what I’m here for, Chloe. Never a problem.

Chloe: If Mystery Girl tries to start shit at the dance though, I’m blaming you

Rachel: Yeah, sure, go ahead. I can take her.

Chloe: Wait do you know who it is?

Rachel: Yep. She’s the biggest moron I know.

Chloe: Oh wow, she even beats me out? She must be duuumb

Rachel: Like you would not fucking believe.

Rachel: CODE ORANGE

Kristen: ORANGE??

Kristen: FUCK YES

Steph: Oh holy shit you actually pulled it off?

Fernando: Does our little Max have a grown up date to the grown up dance??

Rachel: That she fucking does

Rachel: Took a minor miracle and a bit of arm twisting on my part. And they’re both still very much in denial.

Steph: Hey at this point we take what we can get

Fernando: If they don’t crack in a formal setting while dancing? They never will and it’s time to throw in the towel

Kristen: Honestly I agree, if this doesn’t work we need to go nuclear and just fucking tell them straight up, damn what’s “proper and romantic”

Rachel: I agree. 

Rachel: We’re in the endgame now, team. Shift all focus to dance prep. Get them acclimated to the idea of seeing each other in formal wear and dancing together.

Steph: Chloe in a suit is going to melt Max’s brain. Probably part of mine too to be honest.

Rachel: Saaame babe she’s gonna be so fine

Kristen: Get you a girl that will admire other women with you

Fernando: You lost me at “get you a girl”

Kristen: Honestly Fern you’re too damn gay for this lesbian drama

Fernando: The things I do for solidarity

Rachel: Lol

Steph: Lol

Chapter Text

Max: Hey mom

Max: Weird question 

Vanessa: What is it, hun?

Max: You know I hate asking for money

Max: Especially triple digits

Max: But um

Vanessa: Are you in some kind of trouble?

Max: No no no, everything’s fine, I just

Max: Kinda need a dress?

Max: Like a formal dress. For a formal dance.

Vanessa: Oh!! What dance? When? Who are you going with??

Max: It’s Blackwell’s Fall Formal, the weekend before Halloween 

Max: I’m going with Chloe.

Max: PLEASE don’t make a big deal out of it?

Vanessa: I’ll do my best, hun. It’s exciting though. My first date with your father was a spring formal.

Max: I don’t think it’s like that

Max: Maybe it is? I want it to be but I don’t know

Max: Anyway, dress?

Vanessa: Of course. Shop around a bit, find something you like, and we’ll help pay. Within reason that is

Max: Mom you know me, I’m not gonna get anything too flashy or fancy

Max: I just. Want to look okay for Chloe. She’s gonna be in a suit.

Vanessa: Oh she’ll look so dashing in a suit. And you’ll look more than okay next to her.

Vanessa: I know it’s not “cool” to talk about love stuff with your mom. But if you ever need to talk, I’m here, hun.

Max: Thanks Mom <3

Chloe: So I might need you to spot me a little money

Joyce: Please tell me you didn’t get caught graffiti-ing the police station again

Chloe: Okay, one, they can’t prove that was me

Chloe: And two, no

Chloe: I uh, kinda need a suit

Chloe: For a dance

Joyce: Oh? Did you finally pull your head out of your ass and talk to Max?

Chloe: Don’t you get on my case too

Chloe: I get enough shit from Rachel already 

Joyce: Maybe you should listen to Rachel more often, she and Steph seem to be doing well

Chloe: Her ego doesn’t need your help

Joyce: Did you ask Max or are you going to keep avoiding the question?

Chloe: Yes. I asked Max.

Chloe: But it’s not… like that. I don’t think? Ugh, I don’t know. Feelings suck

Joyce: Teenagers.

Joyce: But yes, I can set aside some money to get you fitted for a suit. Your grades have been outstanding so far this semester and I suspect Max is a big part of why. You deserve this, I hope you know that

Chloe: It’s hard to believe it sometimes 

Chloe: But thanks mom

Joyce: It’s what I’m here for Chloe

Joyce: Now get down here and do the dishes like I told you yesterday 

Chloe: Ugh fine

Vanessa: Did yours also give the “it’s not like that” line?

Joyce: You know she did

Joyce: Chloe says she asked though, so pay up

Vanessa: Now hold on just one second, our bet is a confession, not a dance invite that’s “not like that”

Joyce: If it were any other pair that would be a confession 

Vanessa: Probably, but an agreement’s an agreement! Oh to be young again

Joyce: I’d like to think I was never so dense at that age

Vanessa: At least there’s finally motion. Their friends must be overjoyed.

Joyce: I strongly suspect they had something to do with this happening at all

Joyce: I’ll be sure to get lots of pictures and send them to you

Vanessa: Excellent, thank you! They’re going to look so good together 

Joyce: Always have, always will

So something a bit unexpected happened in the dorms this morning when I was heading to the shower: Dana asked me to the dance.

She seemed nervous, though I have no idea why. I felt a little bad about turning her down, but she took it well. We talked a little bit after, and… well okay, as we know my gaydar is historically awful, but I get the vibe that she really wants to ask Juliet? And is doing her best to find someone else so she has an excuse to avoid asking because she’s scared? I relate a bit too closely to that feeling to be honest.

As an aside? It felt… really good to tell her I was going with you. She said that didn’t surprise her at all. Not even two months into my Blackwell career and everyone knows we’re inseparable, huh?

Of course, everyone knows to fear the dreaded combo of Captain Bluebeard and Long Max Silver, the terrors of the seven seas (and also Blackwell).

And for once your gaydar is on the money. Dana is down baaaad for Juliet. And vice versa. They’ve both been trying to date some pretty mediocre guys to get over each other for years and it’s kinda sad to watch. I get not wanting to risk a friendship though. It’s scary shit, not knowing how they’ll react, if you’ll torpedo something important to you for nothing.

For the record? I’ve enjoyed telling people I’m going with you, too. I’ll brag about it even. Yes, I, Chloe Price, am taking the cutest girl ever to the dance. Bow before us and weep, peasants. 

That said. If your mystery girl hasn’t heard yet, and she asks you. It’s okay to change your mind if you want. I won’t be upset, really. I’ll wingman for you so hard. Just say the word.

No. None of that. I won’t abandon you for anyone.

Can we agree to not talk about “mystery girl” before the dance anymore? Can you do that for me? I’m going with you, Chloe Price. End of story. 

If you want to wingman for someone, think of a way to do it between Dana and Juliet. I’m going to be doing a bit of wingmanning on my own. Who for, I’ve been asked not to say yet, but if all goes well you’ll hear about it soon…

Okay. I won’t bring it up anymore. Promise.

I’d never abandon you for anyone, either.

Hmm. I don’t really KNOW Dana or Juliet all that personally. I might have to get creative. Maybe I’ll ask Rachel if she’s got any ideas, she’s good at the wingman thing. She pushed me to ask you, actually. Even if she’s very aggressive about specific terminology.

And I think I have an inkling who you’re gonna try to help. I’ve noticed some things in a couple classes. I can’t say I understand it at all, but if you think it’s worth pushing for, I trust you.

Thank you.

I’m going to start firing off some texts over lunch. It’ll be my first time actually talking to this particular person about something that isn’t class related. I’m a little nervous. But I think I know how to butter her up. We’ll see how it goes. Maybe you can advise me on what to say if I get stuck, since you seem to know already.

And it sounds like I need to thank Rachel for the best thing to happen to me since I got back.

Unknown: Victoria? It’s Max

Victoria: Hello, Max.

Victoria: What do you want?

Hipster-chic: I wanted to ask you a couple things

Hipster-chic: First, would you maybe want to partner up on the next assignment?

Victoria: I’ll tell you right now that if you think you can ride my coattails to a better grade, think again.

Hipster-chic: I promise that’s not it. I’ll pull my own weight. Honestly I’ve wanted to work with you for a while, I love your shots

Hipster-chic: Your eye for lighting is amazing, it’s so dramatic and adds so much depth and contrast to every scene

Hipster-chic: That’s something I’ve always struggled with, I have no idea how to set up lighting effectively so I stick to more “natural” shots

Hipster-chic: I’d love to work with you on some of them, maybe you can give me a few pointers? 

Victoria: Hmm

Victoria: I do take pride in my lighting. I’m surprised you noticed. Jones doesn’t seem to pay much heed to it.

Hipster-chic: Jones seems to get… tunnel vision, sometimes. With the right shots maybe we could change her mind

Victoria: Doubtful. Industry vets tend to be set in their ways. 

Victoria: I saw the collection you submitted for the scholarship. Your lighting could use some work. Fortunately for you, I believe I know exactly how to help you.

Victoria: Your eye for composition is notable. I admittedly could use some more practice with that. Perhaps we would work well together.

Victoria: I’ll give it some thought. Your other question?

Hipster-chic: This will sound weird but bear with me

Hipster-chic: Are you going to the Fall Formal with anyone?

Victoria: I fail to see how that’s any of your business.

Victoria: I thought you were going with Price, anyway.

Hipster-chic: I am, I’m not asking for me

Hipster-chic: See, I’ve got this friend that I think might really enjoy going with you

Hipster-chic: Trouble is, she’s very shy and more than a little intimidated by you

Victoria: I refuse to degrade myself by going with someone who would ask me by proxy.

Hipster-chic: She has no idea I’m talking to you. Actually, I was going to suggest that you ask her

Victoria: How do you know I don’t already have someone else in mind?

Hipster-chic: I guess I don’t, but your eyes wander a lot in photography 

Hipster-chic: I figured it might help if you knew what her answer would be

Hipster-chic: I know anxiety about that kind of thing is a bitch

Victoria: Don’t presume you know me, Caulfield.

Hipster-chic: I’d like to. I think we could be friends, if you let me. 

Hipster-chic: Either way, I want to help another friend. If it helps you too, that’d be hella cool

Victoria: You’ve been spending too much time with Amber and Price. “Hella” will never be cool.

Hipster-chic: Chloe will be mortally wounded by that statement

Victoria: Good.

[10 minutes pass]

Victoria: I will give your suggestion some consideration.

“Oh my god, she is so crushing on Kate.”

“Wowzers, yeah she is. I hope she asks. I think they’d be cute.”

“I think it’d be a crime against Kate, but I’ll trust your judgment.”

“I feel like Vic’s not so bad deep down. Like, really deep down.”

“Heh, deep.”

“Sh-shut up!”

Max: Hey, Rachel?

Rachel: What’s up Max?

Max: Is it true you pushed Chloe to ask me to the dance?

Rachel: Told you that did she

Rachel: I gave her a nudge. She was being dumb about it

Max: I wanted to say thank you

Max: I’m super nervous about it, but I’m so so excited too

Max: I’d never have gotten up the courage to ask her myself

Rachel: It’s what I do, no need to thank me

Rachel: You two will be super cute together. Cuter than you already are I mean

Max: I wish we were going “together” :(

Rachel: What makes you think you aren’t?

Max: I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it. I want to call her my date but I don’t think it’s right the word

Max: What if she just asked to go as friends?

Max: I don’t want to misread this and lose her

Rachel: You won’t lose her, I promise

Rachel: Consider this: she thinks you’re over the moon for some “mystery girl.” If she was only asking as a friend, she wouldn’t have asked at all, she’d wait for “mystery girl” to ask you instead

Rachel: But she wanted to get you first. Even if it required a bit of nudging. And even if she’s an idiot that can’t see the obvious.

Rachel: To speak freely for a moment? You’re an idiot too. Seriously, the whole “mystery girl” thing? It’s been driving her nuts for weeks

Max: I know. I regret ever starting that, but she knew I had a crush for someone and I had no idea how to tell her

Max: I did ask her to let it go though. Hopefully it just never comes up again.

Rachel: That will only make her stew with it, you know that.

Max: …yeah, I do.

Max: What do I do, Rachel? I don’t know if I can make myself say it, the words are just so… sticky in my brain. They never make it to my mouth. If I’m dancing with her in a suit, and I do something dumb, and I can’t explain myself? Would that ruin everything?

Rachel: Well, think about it for a sec. You’ve got something you need to come clean about. You’ve got something important to say that you don’t know how to voice, that you don’t want misinterpreted. What would you do if it were any other set of words?

Max: I’d write her a letter.

Rachel: There you go.

Max: Is that okay? To say those words in writing? I thought the correct thing was to say them out loud

Rachel: You owe a lot to letters. For you two, it’s fitting. Trust me. She’ll agree.

Max: I’ve tried to write a confession letter so many times. What if I can’t this time either?

Rachel: Picture it for me: the two of you dancing slowly. She’s read your words, and she’s still come back to you. You’ve shared everything you are now. There’s no more secrets. There’s no need to say anything. There’s only the two of you, the dance, and nothing else.

Rachel: Hold that picture in your mind, and write whatever words follow it. Tell her how much you want that. Your phrasing doesn’t have to be perfect. She’ll get the message. 

Rachel: You can absolutely do this, Max. I believe in you.

Max: Okay.

Max: I’ll. I’ll write her a confession letter. I’ll try to give it to her before the dance, so if she does want to back out, she has time. 

Rachel: That won’t happen. Trust her to see it all and come back to you anyway.

Max: …You’re right. She will, won’t she?

Max: Thank you, Rachel.

Rachel: Any time, Max. I’m here if you need to talk through it more.

Max: <3

Chloe: I’m going to write a confession letter to Max.

Chloe: I have absolutely no fucking idea how I’ll word it yet but it needs to happen.

Chloe: Hopefully I can have it done before the dance so she can back out if she wants.

Rachel: Well shit, I was going to try convincing you to do that. Get out of my head Price

Chloe: Never. Btw you’re almost out of milk

Rachel: I don’t even drink milk

Chloe: Fuck

Rachel: What brought this on?

Chloe: I’ve been stewing about Max’s mystery girl

Rachel: Of fucking course you have

Chloe: And I’ve decided I’ll regret it forever if I just let someone else have her without at least trying

Chloe: Even if she doesn’t feel the same, it won’t break us. Nothing can

Rachel: I’ve been saying so for years.

Chloe: And it’s taken me a long time to internalize. I nearly lost her once. Letters kept us together. Maybe… maybe they can get us the rest of the way too.

Rachel: Maybe so

Rachel: Really proud of you, Chloe. I think it’s a great idea. And the dance will be so much more fun afterwards, having that weight finally lifted.

Chloe: We’ll see. My letter might end up being a trainwreck. I’ve tried writing it before and never got anywhere.

Rachel: Picture it for me: the two of you dancing slowly. She’s read your words, and she’s still come back to you. You’ve shared everything you are now. There’s no more secrets. There’s no need to say anything. There’s only the two of you, the dance, and nothing else.

Rachel: Hold that picture in your mind, and write whatever words follow it. Tell her how much you want that. Your phrasing doesn’t have to be perfect. She’ll get the message. 

Rachel: You can absolutely do this, Chloe. I believe in you.

Chloe: Have I ever told you that you’re an angel?

Rachel: You could stand to mention it more often

Rachel: And you might not agree after what I’m about to suggest next

Chloe: Oh god have mercy

Rachel: Call her your date. To her face.

Rachel: Remove the ambiguity. It’s stressing you both out.

Chloe: …shit, really? You think it’s stressing her out too?

Rachel: I do. And if she thinks of it in terms of a date, it warms her up for your letter.

Chloe: …true

Chloe: Ugh, fine

Chloe: I swear you’re going to be the death of me

Rachel: I do it out of love, darling

“Got fitted for my suit today.”

“Really? Can I see it?”

“Not until the dance, squirt. It’s bad luck otherwise.”

“Isn’t that only for weddings?”

“Shit, is it? Whatever, still no. Unless you’ll let me see your dress?”

“We’ll wait until the dance.”

“That’s what I thought. You’ll have to at least tell me the color so my tie can match.”

“Pink, what else?”

“I don’t know what I expected. That’s gonna look great on you, though. Not that it would matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you could show up in a damn garbage bag and I’d still brag about how I’ve got the best looking… date at the dance.”

“…O-Oh.”

“Y-Yeah.”

“…”

“…”

“You really think I’m…?”

“I’ve failed you utterly if you even doubt it.”

“But I’m just… me.”

“Exactly. You’re you. You’ve never needed anything else.”

“…”

“…”

“You don’t have the best looking… date.”

“Max—”

“ I do.”

“…O-Oh.”

“Y-yeah.”

“…”

“…”

“Chloe?”

“Max?”

“Is date the word? For… us?”

“…Do you want it to be?”

“…Do you?”

“…”

“…”

“I’d… I’d like it. A lot.”

“…Me too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. I’m… I’m your date.”

“And I’m your date.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Terrific.”

“Excellent.”

“Stupendous.”

“Fantastalicious.”

“Oh my god, you’re a crime against English.”

“Made you laugh, didn’t it?”

“You always do.”

“…”

“…”

“Chloe?”

“Max?”

“Will you… stay tonight? I have a test tomorrow, and… I always sleep better with you.”

“O-Okay. Anything I can do to help.”

“Just you being here helps.”

“Cool. We should… probably get in bed then. Getting late.”

“Yeah. Let’s.”

“…”

“…”

“Max?”

“Chloe?”

“Is… is it okay if I hold you?”

“Always. Come here.”

“You’re so warm.”

“Too warm?”

“Just right.”

“Mm. You’re so gentle with me. It’s nice.”

“Comfy?”

“The comfiest. There’s no place I’d rather be.”

“Me either, Max. I… I like you a lot.”

“…I like you a lot too.”

“G-Good thing we’re going to the dance together then.”

“Y-Yeah. As dates.”

“Yep. Dates.”

“…”

“…”

“Have I ever told you how much your smile means to me?”

“Not as much as yours means to me.”

“Impossible. Prove it.”

“I will. Every day.”

“And I will too. Guess we’ll be in a never ending cold war of making each other smile.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“No, no it doesn’t.”

“…”

“…”

“You’re so cute when you yawn.”

“You’re cute when you exist.”

“No you.”

“…I think we might be tired if those are the best comebacks we’ve got.”

“I’ve got far worse, believe me. But we should probably try to sleep now. Gotta get you rested for that test.”

“Okay. Quiet time now.”

“Quiet time.”

“…”

“…”

“Good night, Chloe.”

“Good night, Max.”

Chapter Text

Max’s hands were shaking as she pressed the envelope closed. It took her a couple minutes of steady, deep breathing at her desk before she felt able to pick her pen back up and write a name on the front. Chloe Price. Her best friend. Her partner in crime. Her… her date.

After she delivered this… Maybe more?

Or less, an evil part of her brain whispered. What if it’s too much too fast? What if it’s too desperate and pathetic?

Shit, was it? She’d poured a lot of feelings into this. Everything she’d been holding back all this time. Was that too much when they’d only just decided to use the term date? Was it better to take it slow?

No, Max thought with uncharacteristic confidence. I have to trust her with this. It’s been too long. No more secrets between us. Never again.

Before she could lose her nerve, she slipped the envelope into the pocket of her flowing pink dress. 

“I can do this,” she whispered to herself. “I can do this…”

“I can do this,” Chloe whispered. “I can do this…”

She stood perfectly still outside Max’s door, trying to work up the courage to knock. A sealed envelope bearing Max’s name was heavy in the inside pocket of her suit jacket, carrying a letter she’d only finished right before driving here.

She’d meant to have it done days ago, but the words had kept eluding her. Finally, at the eleventh hour, she’d reached a draft she could live with. It would have to be enough.

If it doesn’t scare her away, she thought morbidly. I’ve always been too strong with feelings. And this is like a feelings bomb.

It terrified her. This night might be her last chance to hold Max in anything resembling the way she wanted. They’d only just started saying date for fuck’s sake, and now she was going to throw out another, even more dangerous four letter word? Was she out of her mind?

It has to happen, Chloe thought, swallowing thickly. I have to tell her before… before someone else does.

Now or never, Price. 

With a steadiness that surprised her, she knocked on the door.

Max’s heart was already running at an erratic pace with each step closer to the door. When she opened it, her heart gave out completely.

Chloe’s suit was deep blue, perfectly complimenting the light blue streaks she’d recently added on either side of her chin length hair. The coat was expertly fitted without a crease to be seen, and went over a black button down shirt. The pink tie stood out a bit, but Max hardly cared, because the overall effect was… Hazardous to Max’s higher brain functions. That was one theory confirmed: Max had a thing for girls in suits.

Or was it just Chloe? Did it matter? Hadn’t it always been just Chloe?

Somehow, Max found her voice. “H-Hey.”

Chloe’s radiant, nervous smile was everything. “Hey… You’re… you’re beautiful.”

How many times had Max heard that from her parents? From Kristen, from Rachel, from Kate? She’d never thought anything of it beyond friendly platitudes. But when Chloe said it, looking at her like… like that? Max could believe it.

“Thanks,” she whispered, doing all she could to keep her eyes on Chloe’s. “You’re… roguish and sexy.”

Chloe chuckled, a shy blush creeping into her cheeks. “I guess the suit worked, huh?”

“Yeah…” Max wanted to pay her even more compliments, but wasn’t sure what else to say with so little brain power available. All she could come up with was, Wanna skip the dance and lock ourselves in here and make out all night? Which would probably not go over well. So instead she just said, “Should we go, then?”

Chloe wasn’t looking straight in her eyes, but rather slightly below them. She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Yeah. Let’s.”

Then she dealt Max a killing blow by offering her hand. Practically on autopilot, Max took it. As they walked to the dance together, she could think of nothing but the soft warmth of Chloe’s skin, the gentleness of her grip, and how perfectly their fingers intertwined.

The Blackwell pool building where the dance was being held was decorated for the occasion. Everyone inside was very dressed up and immaculate looking. The music was good, and people were having a good time. 

Chloe could only assume as much, because she could barely focus on anything that wasn’t Max.

It was like Max had scientifically determined the best way to short circuit Chloe’s brain and planned the whole evening around it. Her sleeveless pink dress was long, plain and unornamented, with thin straps that left the majority of her shoulders exposed. Chloe hadn’t realized until seeing it that collarbones could be so enticing. Max’s makeup was similarly minimal, just a bit of eyeliner that perfectly accented her eyes. Her hair was the same straight bob as always, but well combed and almost glossy. Chloe caught a whiff of something vaguely woodsy; a new conditioner?

And then there was Max’s hand. She’d always had soft skin — not that Chloe had taken notice of that every time they touched or anything! — but it felt so smooth and warm in Chloe’s. Had she been using lotion? And when Max interlaced their fingers, like they were an actual— Chloe had to stop herself from completing that thought every time it came up, lest she ruin the night by going into cardiac arrest.

They milled around the edges of the pool for a while after arriving. They didn’t talk, but they didn’t need to. They communicated by occasional squeezes of hands, sidelong glances, and so many smiles that Chloe’s cheeks were starting to hurt when the night was still young. It was like neither of them could process the other, that they were here as dates, and so they simply enjoyed each other’s company in that silent way only the best of friends could. Chloe was so caught up in Max’s presence that she only got the lay of the land when Max excused herself to find the bathroom. 

Orange and black balloons and streamers draped from the ceiling alongside paper mâché skeletons. Little plastic ghosts and skeletons sat on the snack tables along the far wall. The pool itself had been drained, and crowds of finely dressed people now filled it, dancing to some high energy party song. The DJ was set up with a commanding view of the dance pit and regularly tossed snacks down to clamoring dancers. Opposite the snack tables, more tables were set up with seating to recuperate between dances, or for the wallflowers to camp at.

She spotted Rachel and Steph sitting at one, chatting with Dana and Juliet. Steph looked sharp as hell in a black suit, though she still wore her beanie, and Dana and Juliet wore complimentary shades of green and blue, but the real showstopper was Rachel. Her red dress was form fitting, high cut to show a lot of leg, and accented with glimmering studs through the bust. In another lifetime, it might’ve made Chloe drool.

As it was, Chloe was still thinking of another girl in another dress when she wandered over to the table. “Don’t tell me you’re all partied out already?”

Rachel glanced at Chloe and smirked. “Already? Chloe, you realize we were down there dancing for like an hour, right?”

Chloe blinked. “What? Didn’t we just—”

Steph laughed. “You’ve been so distracted you didn’t notice the time passing, huh?”

“And you haven’t even been doing anything!” Juliet said. “You’ve just been holding hands and staring at each other!”

“I think it’s sweet,” Dana said, smiling at Chloe. “Enjoy your time with her however you want, Chloe. She’s a great catch.”

Had they seriously been here for an hour already? Chloe really hadn’t noticed the time. “Well- shit. Guess we’ll need to dance some when she comes back.”

“Pull up a seat in the meantime,” Rachel said, gesturing at the chair next to her. “We were just giving Dana the gossip on Vic and Kate.”

“Gossip?” Chloe asked as she sat down. “Oh god, has it already gone wrong?”

“Wrong? Oh god no!” Juliet practically squealed. She was something of a glutton for gossip. “Look for yourself!”

She pointed across the room, and Chloe followed the gesture to where two blondes stood by one of the snack tables. Victoria wore a long gold dress with silver accents, and Kate wore a similar silver dress with gold accents. Kate looked especially radiant, with minimal but effective makeup like Max’s, and her hair curled in ringlets past her shoulders without her normal tight bun.

As Chloe watched, Victoria held up a piece of candy to Kate’s mouth, and Kate bit it with a small smile. Victoria was— blushing? And smiling too? The sight was so wrong with Chloe’s mental image of Victoria, and yet there it was. The cold bitch really did have a heart.

“I hear they’ve kissed already,” Juliet said in a conspiratorial whisper. “I think Vic’s gonna ask if Kate wants to make it official tonight.”

“Good for them,” Dana said. “Vic could use some sweetness. Maybe she’ll loosen up some.”

Well fuck. Now Chloe had to give Max the letter. She couldn’t be upstaged by fucking Victoria .

As if reading her mind, Rachel leaned in and murmured to Chloe, “Did you give her the letter yet?”

“No,” Chloe replied, patting her jacket where the envelope was hidden. “After.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not gonna chicken out.”

“Better not, or all these balloons and streamers are ending up in your junker. Along with a metric shitload of glitter.”

That was a plausible threat. Even if she didn’t run the Vortex anymore, Rachel was still close friends with most of the people on the dance and party committees. 

“Oh, hey Max!” Steph said suddenly. “Enjoying the night so far?”

Chloe turned and locked eyes with Max again, and it was like the rest of the world faded back out. Max smiled, and Chloe nearly swooned. “It’s been great,” Max said, and Chloe delighted in every tone of her voice. “Chloe is an excellent date.”

“She must be, if you can have so much fun doing jack shit,” Juliet said with a snort.

Max frowned, and that was an instant call to action. No Max frowns permitted on Chloe’s watch tonight. She stood and reached for Max’s hand again. “You want to see how we party? Fine! Come on, Max, let’s go boogie!”

“O-Okay!” Max’s smile returned as Chloe dragged her towards the pool/dance floor, with their shithead friends hooting and hollering behind them.

If Max had trouble keeping track of time before, it was nothing compared to how meaningless it became down in the pool.

The mass of bodies might have made her panic in any other circumstance, but Chloe was there with her. She pulled Max through the throngs of immaculately dressed partygoers and found them a relatively open spot near the deep end. Once Chloe started dancing with all her trademark enthusiasm, Max couldn’t help but join, infected by her smiles.

“Yeah, work it Max!” Chloe called above the din, her suited body moving in hypnotic rhythms that made Max forget how to breathe. “Shake that scrawny ass!”

Max couldn’t dance for shit. She was always a wallflower at these sorts of things. But here with Chloe, she didn’t care if anyone else saw, what anyone else might think. It was the two of them, dancing together like they’d used to in Chloe’s room. They laughed, they twirled, they bumped into each other and laughed some more. At some point the exertion made Chloe remove her jacket and drape it over the pool’s edge. As it turned out, Chloe in a button down with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows was just as enticing. Maybe more so.

A few of the songs that played had scripted dances that the entire crowd followed along to. Max didn’t know any of them, but Chloe was a good teacher. Not that any of it would stick, because focusing on the dances themselves was the last thing on Max’s mind. In truth, she resented the ones where they stood side by side, because it meant she couldn’t keep watching that roguish smile, those entrancing eyes.

How long they danced down there, Max couldn’t tell, but there inevitably came a point where the energetic music petered out, and the DJ came over his mic to say, “Alright, now that everyone’s warmed up and tuckered out, why don’t we take the next few nice and slow…”

The soft notes of a love song started playing, and what had just been a thrashing crowd of partiers began to pair off. Max’s heart jumped into her throat. She looked to Chloe, who was already looking at her, and blushing? She offered Max a small smile, then held out her hand again.

“What do you say, Max?” Chloe said softly. “Shall we?”

Max smiled back and nodded, taking Chloe’s hand again. “We shall.”

What little remained of Chloe’s brain fully leaked out as she slow danced with Max.

It started out a little awkward. Her hand trembled against Max’s waist, and her other hand was clammy in Max’s. They couldn’t even make eye contact, both furiously blushing and trying not to acknowledge the massive thread of tension that ran between them.

That thread had existed for a long time, Chloe realized. They’d both gotten very good at ignoring it for the sake of their friendship. But how could it be ignored when they were so close, swaying together between moony-eyed and sometimes kissing couples, while a song played about how great it was to be in love?

Eventually though, sick of the distance, Chloe pulled Max closer and wrapped her arm fully around Max’s slight frame. Max yelped in surprise, looking up at Chloe with wide eyes. Mere inches separated them now.

“Is this better?” Chloe whispered, pulse heavy in her throat with each word.

“Yeah,” Max breathed. Then, she rushed into the remaining distance, pressing their bodies together and wrapping them up in a warm embrace. She rested her head on Chloe’s shoulder. “How about this?”

Chloe’s hands found their places against the middle of Max’s back and softly squeezed. “Even better.”

A few songs passed. Couples came and went with each. At some point, Rachel and Steph slowly spun by, each shooting Chloe a grin and a wink. Victoria and Kate were too lost in each other’s eyes to pay much heed to anyone else, both smiling shyly. Dana and Juliet were full on making out, drawing a few wolf whistles from onlookers.

Chloe dimly registered all of this with the small part of her awareness that wasn’t devoted to the feel of Max in her arms, holding her in return. They’d held each other so many times before, and yet this felt so much more profound. There was no ambiguity to this, no second guessing what this embrace meant. The way Max touched her now was so familiar, yet different. When the lyrics mentioned a special someone, a flame, a love, Max’s fingers would curl into Chloe’s back. She’d sigh against Chloe’s neck contentedly. She’d hum like she’d never been more relaxed and comfortable in her life.

Was Rachel right after all? Could she really be…?

Max couldn’t miss the way Chloe held her, so much differently than all of their other embraces. Even when they’d shared a bed, all but cuddling until the early hours of the morning, there’d never been such urgency, such… possessiveness. Max thrived on it, craved more of it.

And all the while, song after song told stories of love. And each time that magic word was said, Max could hear how Chloe’s heart hitched in time with her own.

Does she…? Can we really…?

“I don’t want this to end,” she whispered.

“Me either,” Chloe whispered back. 

“You make me feel so safe. So… wanted.”

“Because you are wanted, Max. More than I can ever express.”

Max hummed and nuzzled her face against Chloe’s neck. “I don’t know how I stayed sane in Seattle. You’re my missing piece. I’m… I'm undone without you.”

Chloe swallowed. “Max… I…”

“It’s okay if you can’t say it,” Max said, though she felt a twinge of sadness at the hesitation. “So many words are so hard to say.”

Chloe’s next breath was shaky. “That’s… that’s not it. I… I have something for you, Max.”

“Oh? What?”

The current song ended, and the DJ made an announcement about the next lineup of party songs. With extreme reluctance, they slowly pulled apart, hesitating to stare into each other’s eyes. Max couldn’t resist a glance at Chloe’s lips. It would be so easy to lean in…

“It’s in my jacket,” Chloe said, looking away. “Come on.”

Gripped by a stirring emotion she couldn’t identify, Max stayed close to Chloe as they weaved their way out of the pool. Chloe paused by the edge where she’d deposited her jacket to scoop it up, then kept leading Max until they were outside the building. A few overheated partygoers mingled on the lawn, some of them obviously intoxicated. Chloe kept leading further up the sidewalk until they were well away from anyone else. Just the two of them beneath a dim lamp and a starlit sky.

Chloe turned to face Max again, but her smile had been replaced by what Max knew all too well as anxiety. “I’ve… I’ve been holding out on you, Max. There’s a lot of things I should have told you a long time ago. Things I was too terrified to tell you. But you deserve the truth, even if… even if it means things have to change.”

This was sounding eerily similar to what Max had been planning to say before turning over her letter. “Chloe… you never have to be afraid of telling me anything. You know that, right?”

“I know, but… anxiety’s a bitch, you know?” Chloe chuckled humorlessly. “I’d never get it all out if I tried to say it. But we both know how that goes. And… we both know how we handle it best.”

Chloe reached into her jacket. She pulled out an envelope and offered it to Max. “Mail call for one Max Caulfield.”

Max stared at the envelope for a long moment before wordlessly reaching into her dress pocket and pulling out her own. “Trade you.”

Chloe stared at Max’s letter with wide eyes. Then she nodded slowly, and they exchanged. Max’s hand trembled as she took the one with her name on the front.

“I’ll… I’ll give you space to read that,” Chloe said, sounding choked up as she stared down at her own envelope. “If… Whatever you want, after, just… let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” Max whispered. Space was best, for if Chloe decided it necessary after reading Max’s emotional bomb. “S-Same to you.”

They both nodded. They lingered under the lamp for a long moment. Then, Chloe slowly turned and walked away, towards the parking lot, clutching Max’s letter like it was a lifeline. Or maybe how one would handle a venomous snake.

“Chloe,” Max called, her voice cracking.

Chloe paused to look back over her shoulder. “Max?”

Max swallowed and held back fearful tears. “Whatever happens after this… Tonight was the best night of my life.”

Chloe’s expression twisted between hope, anguish, and something Max couldn’t identify. “Same here, squirt. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

They held each other’s gaze a moment longer. Then they turned away and retreated.

Chloe went back to her truck and sat in the dark cabin for a good ten minutes, wordlessly staring at the envelope Max had given her. What it contained, she couldn’t even begin to guess. A rejection seemed likely, written in response to her selfish want to use the word date. In which case, the letter she’d traded it for could do far more damage than she ever imagined.

On a bench near the pool, beneath another lonely lamp, Max was also staring at her own envelope, feeling much of the same fear. What could it possibly be but a way to gently let her down? And how would Chloe respond to what Max had written if that were true? It could be the end of everything, despite all their promises to each other. This could be the final test of their supposed forever.

With all the care of opening a bomb, Max and Chloe slowly opened their letters from each other, and stealing themselves with one more breath, unfolded the pages within.

Both of them froze at the very first sentence.

Chapter Text

Dear Chloe,

You’re the mystery girl.

I’m so, so sorry for letting that stupid charade drag on for so long. You asked if I had a crush at Blackwell, and I didn’t want to lie to you, but I didn’t know how to tell you either. I had no idea how you’d respond. I still don’t. But you deserve the truth.

So yeah, surprise. I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. But even saying that isn’t entirely honest. Crush isn’t a big enough word, though it’s certainly what it feels like is happening to my heart whenever I think about you.

That’s probably a lot to dump on you right out of the gate. Let’s back up a little.

Do you remember fifth and sixth grade? Awful time, I know, I try to block out most of it. But there’s one moment that sticks out to me, one that’s stuck with me ever since, that I could point to as the moment I realized you were something special to me. Maybe that was when I first fell for you, or maybe it just started me down that road. 

It was in study hall. I was crying about an upcoming science test. I was so scared I was going to fail. I couldn’t make sense of my notes and the textbook sucked, it made no sense to me. You were a science whiz even then. You came to my table, dried off my tears with an index card you’d drawn a happy pirate on — that made me laugh, just like you always do — and you helped me organize all my notes. Transcribed them all into a new notebook and everything, with color coded highlighting and little tabs on the side, and you explained it as you went with such patience. I passed that test and that class because of you. I’ve used that note style ever since, even in my journal. 

It wasn’t passing that was important to me, though. It was the realization, as I watched you work without asking for anything in return, that no one else would ever do something like that for me. It was listening to you explain complicated concepts in a way that you knew I’d get, and realizing that no one else would ever understand me like you did. 

When I had to leave you, it felt like a core part of me was ripped away. I completely stopped functioning as a person, coasting through Seattle life on autopilot without a single care for the future. When your first letter arrived, it brought meaning back to me, a meaning I’d been too terrified and anxious to reach out for myself. I still regret that you had to be the one to take initiative. You were grieving and hurting so badly, and still you reached out. I hate to think where I’d be if you hadn’t. A life without you isn’t something I want to ponder.

Receiving your letters became my reason to go on. I lived for the next one’s arrival. I got giddy over our nightly calls, even the ones where we talked about nothing at all. I pinned your photos to my wall just to be able to see your smile every day. I can’t describe how much I missed your smile. Selfies were a poor substitute, but I had to make do. And with each letter and photo and gift you sent? I only anticipated the next one more. More than one should probably feel about simple correspondence between friends.

I definitely felt some way about you for a long while before I realized it. Looking back, my friends realized it long before I did, and they barely even knew me. The tipping point for oblivious little me? My surprise spring break visit. An entire week with you, doing nothing but being with you, playing with you, laughing with you, kissing you… Do you know how often I’ve thought about that kiss? Every single day since. I swear I can still perfectly taste it. I see it in my dreams.

When I got back on the bus to Seattle, it felt like tearing myself apart all over again. And it was on that ride home that I realized I missed you too much. That I thought of you as more than just a friend.

I tried to stamp that feeling down, believe me I did. You matter so much to me, I never wanted to jeopardize our friendship. But you make it so so hard, you know that? Being yourself, with all your stupid jokes, all your crude doodles, all the ways you knew exactly what to say to talk me down from anxiety attacks, or how to make me feel better after getting roughed up by bullies, or even just what to say to make me feel like the next day was worth waking up to. You make it so damn hard not to feel this way about you, Chloe. The harder I tried to fight it, the more you drew me in.

Kristen and Fernando clocked me immediately. They told me I was being stupid, told me to go for it. Even with my anxiety meds and therapy though, I could never escape the simple fact: how on earth could I ever deserve you? How could anyone? Why could I not simply be content with being your best friend? Why did my stupid heart have to risk it all?

Months, years, I tried and failed to get over you. Then I got into Blackwell, and I knew I was on the clock. I was too obvious. I wouldn’t be able to hide it forever. I’d have to come clean eventually. I tried to write this letter so many times, even on the way here from Seattle. And I never had the right words.

The “mystery girl” thing sure as hell wasn’t the right words. But truthfully? I’m not sure there are any. All the words in the English language wouldn’t be enough. A picture’s worth a thousand words, and even every picture I’ve ever taken still wouldn’t be enough. The way I feel about you runs so deep, through every part of me, that trying to quantify it or verbalize it feels like a lost cause. But here’s my best shot at it anyway.

The way you look at me fills my heart with butterflies. Your jokes make me laugh like I’ve forgotten what suffering tastes like. Your touch lights a fire under my skin. Your trust is more sacred than all the saints that have ever lived. Your smile steals my every breath and puts shame to every photo I’ve ever taken. Being with you, I’m not a useless hipster who’s too shy to speak. With you, I’m brave. I’m deserving. I’m something real, and not just a half remembered dream.

You are everything that’s best about my life. You bring out everything that’s best in me. You are everything to me. You are all that matters to me.

I love you, Chloe. I think I always have. I think I always will.

I understand if that’s too much. If we have to not hug anymore, or cuddle up on movie nights, or hold hands, or anything like that. I understand if we need to dial everything back, take some space until I can get over it for real. I… I even understand if it’s too weird, if I’m too forward or pushy by even writing this, that we can’t go on for a while. However much space you need from me, you have it. I won’t push you. I’ll respect your boundaries. I’ll never bring it up again if that’s what you want.

Just… please don’t let this be an end for us. I treasure what we have more than anything. I don’t know if I can survive losing it again. I need you in my life to some extent, even if it’s at arm’s length. Maybe that’s pathetic and clingy of me to say, but it’s true. And you deserve the truth. No more secrets, no more lies. Never again.

I wish I’d gotten this done sooner so you could have the option to back out of the dance. Maybe I’m awful and selfish for letting you take me, using the word date when it means so much more to me. Maybe that makes me the kind of awful leech that we always made fun of in our letters. But if nothing else, I couldn’t deny myself at least one night to pretend. To dance with you, to hold you, to call you mine. To dream of a future with you. 

Dreams have to fade come morning, though. And it’s long past time to wake up and face the music.

I could go on forever. It feels like I already have, running circles around the issue in my head. The discarded drafts of this could probably fill a book. Ultimately though, I think I’ve gotten all the important bits. If you still can bear to look me in the eye after reading this, maybe we can talk about the smaller things. Maybe we can one day laugh about it. Maybe you already are.

One way or another, for better or worse, give me some kind of sign, please. You know better than anyone how anxious and caught in my own head I get about lack of response to things. But then, maybe I deserve it for not being honest with you. Maybe it’s too little too late.

Whatever you decide, just know that you’re my best friend, and there’s no one else I’d rather dance with. Even if you do mock my height.

Love, in every sense of the word,

Max

Chapter Text

Dear Max,

I love you.

I had to say that right away before I completely lose my nerve. Granted, I now need to make it to the end of this letter without deciding to white it out, or erase it, or crumple up this paper and start it over again for the umpteenth time. 

So. How do I even follow up a statement like that? Does it even matter? Are you still reading this, or have you dropped the paper in disgust? The pit of self hate wants to say you have. But I’ve decided I trust you more than I hate myself. I'm going to believe you’ll hear me out to the end no matter how you feel. Because that’s what you do, isn’t it? You listen to me, even when I'm talking nonsense or utter depravity. No one else in my life does that. Not Joyce, not Steph, not even Rachel. Only you.

So many things in my life could be summed up with those two words. Only you. Max Caulfield, hipster extraordinaire, scourge of Arcadia Bay, Shorty McShortface, my best friend ever, my partner in crime. If it’s not obvious by now, I’d add a lot more things to that list of titles, given the chance. My date. My partner. My other half. My reason for being.

Maybe it’s cliche to say our bond is “not like other girls.” I truly believe it for us though. With other teenagers there seems to be a level of muddling between attraction and lust. Often they’re interchangeable. More often, the latter is confused for the former. But in my case, there’s none of that. I know what I feel for you is real. There’s no mistaking it for anything else.

A definition of love I’ve always liked is “something you can’t see living without.” Well, I have lived without you, Max. Physically, yes, for four years. But at the start of that, entirely. For six months, it was like I’d lost you along with my father. And I can say without hyperbole that it was hardly worth living.

Reconnecting with you through letters was everything to me. It still is everything to me. Those little pieces of paper were proof that you still cared. With every one, they proved that you cared even more. I could keep all of them and read them when the bad thoughts started to creep in. I could hold them close and know your hand wrote them, and in a way it was like you were there with me again. I felt closer to you than ever, even so far away. I opened my heart to you in a way that I’d never have done for anyone else.