Life is Strange: A New Year

by R. A. Howard

The stub of my joint glowed as I baked, the only light coming from the glowing panda on the bookshelf on the far end of my room and light filtering in through the window. Midnight. Another fucking New Year. I glanced at my phone and then looked away. Like Max would fucking call. She's moved on.

I blinked back tears. The house was too fucking quiet; Mom was out with that fucking asshole she'd dragged home from the diner, David. I swear, she didn't wait a year after Dad died before she... I scrubbed my eyes. Fuck that. I could put on some music but first... I inhaled deep, feeling the heat of the embers from the joint. Any more and I'd burn my lips or fingers.

I held my breath, trying hard to keep the smoke in as long as possible, when my phone rang. I started coughing as I startled, the stub falling from my fingers and onto my shirt. I quickly beat it out before grabbing my phone, and flipped it open without even looking at it. It was probably Mom checking up on me. At least she still cares a little...

"Yello!" Silence greeted me on the other end. Okay... "Um, this a butt-dial?" I snorted and lifted the phone to my eyes, the glow making me squint as I looked at the number... Max Caulfield.

"C-Chloe?" I heard a hesitant voice through the phone's speaker, barely audible.

For a moment I couldn't move as I stared at the phone, my eyes starting to burn and my lungs ache. I forced myself to inhale and brought the phone back to my ear. Casual. Nice and casual. Don't need to... "What the fuck do you want?" I winced. Damn it! "Um, I mean hi!" There was a long pause on the other end and I sighed. "Fuck. I didn't scare you off, did I?"

"No, I'm here. I-" I heard a small gasp on the other end and had to smile. She'd also forgotten to breathe. Well, either that or she was busy getting some New Year's nookie and her boyfriend had dared her to call... my stomach twisted at the thought of her with some damn Seattle hippie. Sheesh, where'd that come from?

"Wishing me a happy New Year? Man, how much did you have to drink? Did you spill wine all over your parents' rug again?" Yeah, Max, drink? That'd be the day.

"Fuck you, you spilled it, not me! You wouldn't share!"

I grinned as I imagined how miffed she had to be looking. "Dude, you had your chance. You chickened out of it so I got the spoils of the booty. And if I remember, you grabbed the bottle from me. Lush." We'd gotten in trouble when we'd been caught but... damn I missed being with Max. I closed my eyes, the smile fading from my face.

She laughed back, a small breathless laugh I'd nearly forgotten. I heard something rustle over the phone. Paper? "Chloe. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you should be! Mom was furious! Though more for you wasting a bottle of good wine and staining her rug-" My eyes blurred and I rubbed them dry.

Max broke in as I paused for breath. "Not that. I—I've been a... how'd I put it? A chickenshit. Um. Chloe? Do you bel-" she paused and let out an exasperated sigh. "This is nuts."

"What's nuts, Max? That you actually called me after who knows how long? I was giving up on you!" I winced again. The weed had gone to my head and loosened my tongue. Well, that and the two beers I'd had earlier. Fucking A, Chloe, way to go. At least I've not made a total ass of myself yet. I shook my head and tried to focus.

I heard her inhale and then pause, her struggle almost audible. "Chloe. I—I just woke up after taking a selfie. I was holding the picture and then found myself holding a letter saying it was from the future."

Wait. What? "Oooookay. So been nipping the bud there, Maximus?" Seriously. How drunk is she? But she's not slurring her words...

"Chloe, it said you're going to die. That I had to talk to you. It gave me dates. Things that would happen. Proof!"

I paused, my thoughts racing. "Okay, Max. Let's pretend you're not shitting me-"

"I'd never joke about this!" Max cut in, her voice almost squeaking. I felt my lips quirk upward as I visualized Max pouting and all angry. She was so adorable when she got mad. "Look, the first one's not for another three days. Some football game, predicts who wins and the score. Another one a day later. And..." her voice petered off.

"And?" It had to be a prank. It had to be. But... scores? And what else? "Max? And what?"

She drew in a breath and started to speak again, her voice all tight and stressed. "And an earthquake. In two weeks in Haiti. In Port-au-Prince. She didn't' know when exactly, she thought it was the 12th but you know me and dates."

Earthquake? Football scores? What the fuck is going on? "Okay. Start at the beginning. Who sent this letter?"

"I did. I think? It's kinda my handwriting. It's not exact but close? The letter says you'd meet a girl, Rachel Amber, and she'd die six months before I come to Arcadia Bay and-"

Wait, what? I broke in. "Wait You're coming back to Arcadia Bay?" My heart was pounding in my chest and I forced several slow deep breaths to try and calm down.

"Not for a couple years?" Max sounded confused and I heard the paper rustle again. "It says in 2013. That's when—that's when it says you die. That Nathan fucking Prescott shot you in the girl's bathroom and you had blue hair and-"

"Blue hair?" Okay, I'd always wanted to dye my hair but blue?

"-and that I could travel through time and I saved you and there's a storm and you wanted me to let you die and..." she broke down sobbing. My heart clenched and I involuntarily reached out. Yeah, like I could somehow reach through the phone and touch her. Fuck I miss you Max.

"Max. Max. Calm down. Calm down. It's okay, I'm right here. I've got the same boring blonde hair. And no one's going to shoot me. No one gives a fuck about me here. I skip school, no one gives a shit. I could quit today and no one would miss me. No one's going to kill me."

"What if it's true? My future self begged me to text you! To talk to you! I don't want to lose you!" I heard Max sniffle through the phone and sighed. Even if I could afford a Greyhound, Seattle was over six hours away. But I sure as hell wanted to hug her right now.

We both were silent as I pondered. Okay. Earthquakes. Football... why football? Hmm. "Max?"

"Chloe?"

"Look, could you... well, e-mail me the letter? Type it in. Don't skip anything. We've three days before that first prediction. If it comes true..." I sighed. The weird thing is, I believed Max. She'd never think up something this crazy. But I could see her writing down things to prove it if this was real. "Well, I don't know. But we may already have changed things."

"How?" I heard another sniffle.

"Well, were you planning on calling me tonight?" Of course you weren't. But I could have called you...

The phone went silent again and after a painful pause a plaintive voice responded "I wanted to?"

"But you were too chickenshit to. Like you said," I said, my tone teasing. "But we're talking now. And I know... when'd you say I die?"

"Um, October 7, 2013," Max responded, her voice cracking again.

"Sounds to me like I just have to avoid using the bathroom then. Or call in sick from school. And I could dye my hair red! Though blue is rather cool, like Priss in Bladerunner!" I smiled and could envision Max rolling her eyes at me. "So yeah. E-mail me the letter and we'll figure things out. I mean, assuming this ain't a joke and you're just trying to get in good with me again," I added with a grin.

"I wouldn't do that to you, Chloe!" She sounded on the verge of tears again and guilt gnawed at me. She was really shook up over this. Then again, so was I.

"Max, I know. Okay, do you need to get going?"

The phone went silent again and then I barely heard Max's voice. "Can we talk more? I miss you."

My cheeks ached from my smile. "Of course we can. You can tell me all about the cute hipster guys you're dating and I'll bore you with tales of skipping class, tagging walls, and being a deadbeat."

"You've more of a life than me. I don't do anything. I don't have any friends."

Well, fuck. My heart almost broke at the plaintive admission. "You have me, Max. Always and forever."