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Rachel's got Chloe's arm around her shoulders and is helping her to the car. It's not the first time one of them has gotten way-too-drunk at a party, but Chloe hasn't done that in awhile, and Rachel would worry if she wasn't giggling. Chloe's an honest drunk, which means she's usually an angry drunk (with a soft spot for Rachel). Instead, she's wheezing a little, her whole body weight against Rachel, saying something about cars that Rachel does not understand.
Still, Chloe had been glaring at people in the party, muttering about Justin stealing her weed again, about Victoria being a bitch, about what a creep Nathan is. Rachel privately agrees, remembering a night that got so fuzzy she forgot it entirely. Nathan had grinned at her the next morning, and she'd wondered what happened. She still doesn't know, months later.
"Rachel," Chloe says as she helps her into the passenger seat.
"Yeah?" Rachel says, pulled out of the downward spiral of her thoughts.
"Can I stay at your place?" Chloe mumbles. "I don't want to see David Dickhead."
"Sure," Rachel says, not mentioning how her parents are still pissed at her. Chloe's so happy like this, with her, and she hates bringing her down. She doesn't want to bring her down. She'll just sneak her upstairs, anyway; James ignores her most of the time anyway.
So she slides into the driver's seat, and Chloe's music (always too loud) makes her flinch a little.
"You baby," Chloe says, dissolving into a fit of giggles again. Rachel tries to bury her annoyance, because Chloe's drunk, and it's not her fault she can't tell Rachel's in a shitty mood. Rachel's the one who's gotten so good at hiding her emotions from Chloe, now.
Her phone vibrates in her pocket, and she ignores it. She's sure it's Frank asking her if she can come over. Not quite a booty call, not quite asking her on an actual date. It's the way they work. She doesn't really like that anymore, especially since Chloe's started to be more--affectionate.
Chloe calls her babe, calls her cute, is way more open than they've been since that first hectic week they met. Rachel had pulled back a lot, after that, worried she'd given away too much. Then Sera left, and she pulled away from Chloe more, and Chloe had been bitter and angry. So Rachel did what she always does when shit goes south--she fawns. She acted as just the right mix of sweet and distant, enough to keep Chloe away without dropping her entirely.
It normally is, anyway. Chloe's started to see through it, again. So now she's mad about Frank and she spends more nights with Rachel than not, and Rachel still hasn't told her Max is back.
Rachel likes Max. Normally when she likes someone, she's weird about it. Feels the need to make a point, make herself impressive, put herself on a pedestal she always has trouble climbing back down from. But Max saw right through it from the beginning, asking why she spends time with assholes like the Vortex Club when she clearly doesn't like being around them.
"I don't really know," Rachel had admitted.
Max had frowned. "Oh."
And Rachel had wanted to cheer her up, make her smile, but she was so goddamn tired of lying, so she'd continued, "I just, uh. I really like it when people like me, you know? It's easier when they do."
"I get it," Max had said, and Rachel had made a face, and Max had added, "Well, I don't, actually, but if it's important to you I can stop talking about it."
"I don't want you to," Rachel had said, surprising herself and Max, if the small, pleased little smile was any indication.
"Fuck, what's so distracting?" Chloe asks when Rachel skids to a stop at a red light.
"Sorry," Rachel says. "Just, uh, thinking about school."
"Blackhell," Chloe mutters. "Is someone bothering you?"
Rachel normally appreciates the protectiveness, but she bristles a little, says, "I can take care of myself."
"Yeah," Chloe says, but she sounds kind of doubtful, and Rachel bites back what she was going to say. It's not worth the fight.
Rachel wakes up with Chloe curled into her and dozens of notifications on her phone. Most of them are from Frank, who'd gotten high and angry when she never responded, which is par for the course. There's one from Dana asking her to meet up and study soon, one from Juliet demanding to know what the RV parked on campus is about, and a couple messages from Max.
Hey Rachel Dana wants me to come to a Vortex Club party and I need your help
This is embarrassing actually ignore me
Max! It's okay I won't judge you
Promise <3
Okay well I just don't really know how to dance...
Rachel feels so fond of her, all of a sudden, the way she responded right away.
Asking for some tips? I got skillzzzz
I'm sure
I mostly just want to know how to not make a fool of myself
Are you asking me to be your date?
It's a joke, sort of, but she can't deny that she wants to.
Have you talked with Chloe yet?
Rachel could lie. It'd be easy, and Max and Chloe aren't talking, so it's not like she'd find out. It's what she'd used to do. It's what she'd normally do.
No
I will when she wakes up
You spent the night?
Not like that!
Okay. Good
Rachel smiles at her phone, and it's only then that she notices Chloe looking up at her suspiciously.
"Frank?" Chloe asks.
"No," Rachel says, putting her phone away. The last thing she wants is for Chloe to see Max on her screen and get into two arguments at once. "Just someone from Blackwell."
"You looked happy," Chloe says, and Rachel can tell she's trying not to sound accusatory (and failing).
"I was," Rachel says. "Um, Chloe--"
"Look, if it's Frank, don't lie to me!"
"Shh," Rachel says, rolling over and pushing her hand over Chloe's mouth. She's so used to her that this intimacy comes easily, and it isn't until Chloe's hands come up to rest on her hips that she realizes her issue. "It's not Frank, okay?"
"Who is it?"
"Just a new girl in the dorms asking for party advice," Rachel says. Technically, not a lie.
"Oh," Chloe says, looking a little embarrassed. "Sorry."
"It's fine," Rachel says when James doesn't burst into the room and start yelling like he normally does when Chloe's over. "Look, I wanted to talk." She pulls away from Chloe, trying not to notice the disappointment that flashes across her face when she does.
"I've had the birds and the bees talk already, Rach," Chloe says.
"Shut up, asshole," Rachel says, laughing despite herself. "Look, I just--what are we?"
"Oh," Chloe says. "Uh."
She's silent for a bit, and Rachel says, "So that's not really an answer."
"I'm kind of too hungover for this," Chloe says.
"Yeah, well, I kind of think we should talk about it now," Rachel says, annoyed.
"Why? For Frank?"
"I haven't even seen him in two weeks," Rachel says.
"The new girl, then?"
"And what if it is?"
Chloe looks sad, but she looks more angry. "What, some new girl walks into your life so now you're just gonna leave?"
"For fuck's sake, Chloe," Rachel says, head in her hands. "I'm not trying to walk out of your life forever, I'm just asking you what you think we are so I'm not an asshole to M--my new friend."
Chloe doesn't notice the slip-up, thank fuck, but she's still pissed. "So if I said we were--you know, something. What would you do?"
"I--" Rachel sighs. "I don't know."
It's not the answer Chloe wants, clearly, since she gets out of Rachel's bed and pulls her jeans on without looking at her. "Fine. Then we're nothing. I'll get out and you get to your new friend."
"Chloe--"
Chloe storms out, and Rachel wonders if she should chase after her. But she's still so goddamn frustrated.
I'll see you later, Max!
Rachel really likes Max's dorm room. It's so quintessentially her, kind of a mess, a little pretentious, photos everywhere. Max had finally unpacked (after Rachel teased her every time she walked in), and Rachel's lounging on her bed while Max rambles on.
"Maybe I shouldn't go," Max says, and Rachel laughs.
"Look, you don't have to," Rachel says. "But you're not that bad."
She's not lying, but if she didn't think Max was adorable, she'd probably have a different opinion. Max dances by awkwardly shaking from side to side, and Rachel knows the rest of the Vortex Club is less nice than she is. (Except for Dana, of course, who's sweeter than anything.)
"I don't even know what to do with my hands. God, if there's a slow dance or something, I'd just end up leaving."
"Okay, first of all, that's really not how the Vortex Club does things," Rachel says. "But that's easy, I can teach you. Come on."
Rachel looks over Max's CDs (she'd have guessed records) and puts on something French.
"La vie en rose," Max says, face flushed.
"Sure," Rachel says. She's more into punk. "Come on."
Rachel barely has an inch on Max, but she guides Max's hands up and around her neck anyway. Rachel puts her hands on Max's waist and pulls her a little forward. Not as close as she usually would, but Max is already blushing, and she's closer than she usually is. Rachel could count her freckles, if she wanted to. She really does.
Still, she's helping, so she waits for Max's blush to fade a little before saying. "There's really not a lot to this. Just sway side to side, move as close as you like, don't dance with any of the bros."
"Ew," Max says, giggling, and moves a little closer. "Why are you showing me? If they don't dance at the parties."
"You never know," Rachel says, already planning on asking/bullying the DJ into putting on a slow song so she can do this again. "Besides, I'm having fun."
"Me too," Max admits, smiling at her.
Rachel could kiss her. She's close enough to, and she thinks Max wouldn't mind. But this--whatever they have, it's something special, and Rachel doesn't want to rush it.
Still, they dance until the song ends. (And then through a few more.)