Chapter Four | Mixed Signals

Max ignores Kate's existence, and every second of it kills her.

She knows the girl is too good for this world, kind to a fault and oh so naïve.

Kate only began to truly grow into herself after overcoming her demons – those of which were provided by the high bastard himself: Nathan Prescott.

Being drugged and then vilified by both her family and friends nearly destroyed Kate. Nearly killed her. But being saved by Max (in the timelines she managed the feat, something she found to be inordinately difficult regardless of her experience) served to propel her to new heights.

Kate was always successful.

She found fame and fortune in the wholesome art of children's illustration and storytelling, later going on to create a young-adult franchise that served to be nearly as popular as J.K. Rowling's wizarding universe.

Hell, she even got her own theme park in one of the timelines. Max quite liked that one.

Kate was special, and Max had sworn to herself long ago to never drag the poor girl into the nightmare that was her life.

Not that they weren't friends, of course. She would never deny herself such a thing.

The light that Kate brought to her life was something she found hard to come by. It grounded her. Yes, Max had fallen in love with Chloe, Rachel, Victoria, and a plethora of other women she had found far and away from Arcadia Bay, but Kate's friendship was sacred.

Only once had she brought Kate underwing and had her tag along. It was early on, long before Max had cracked.

It ended in disaster.

No matter how hard she had tried to keep Kate from harm, she couldn't save her. Misery seemed to follow her like a bloodhound, and if Kate was around there was sure to be disaster.

Shot in the head. Butchered with a dull knife. Strapped to a cinderblock and tossed into the sea. Overdosing on the cocktail of sedatives Jefferson used, a combination of GHB and heroin to be exact.

Kate always seemed to die around her. Even more so than Chloe.

And isn't that an accomplishment.

She had found no real way to prevent those deaths, even with her powers. Well, not without Kate being horribly scarred.

If Kate had anything to do with Max while she was trying to prevent the storm, her life would lie in ruin.

"Murphy's fucking law," Max growled under her breath, dragging her pen across her notebook and tuning out the droning voice of Mister Brooks, Blackwell's history teacher.

Max had no idea how the man could turn such a fascinating subject into something so painfully dull, but somehow, he did.

The fall of the Roman Empire? Ruined.

A discussion on the American slave-trade? The man somehow managed to make it sound like a footnote in their country's history.

The Space Race? Oh, just a boring little argument between the Americans and Russians. Nothing much to see there.

She'd slip a knife in his ribs, but she was sure he'd somehow make that boring as well.

Max glanced up, quickly regretting the action, as her eyes immediately drifted towards Kate; the girl studying her intently.

Kate had tried to confront her multiple times in the last few days, her tongue tripping over itself as she attempted to wrangle a sentence together; to find some way to speak to Max about her impossible powers.

Because that's how Kate viewed them. Impossible.

She couldn't understand how Max could do what she does. Not within the realm of academic understanding, of course. No, Kate couldn't even begin to rationalize the idea that Max could control time.

Kate knew that Max had done it, yes, but she could grasp the concept as well as one could visualize the sheer size of the galaxy.

Theory was all well and good, but the human mind wasn't made to understand such things.

I barely understand it myself, Max thought, tearing her eyes away from Kate.

She couldn't help but notice the girl flinch, doing her best to stifle the sneer that threatened to creep over her face.

Don't hurt her. Don't speak to her, but don't hurt her.

As soon as the bell rang Max was gone, throwing her bag over her shoulder and dashing out the open door as quickly as her feet could take her.

She slipped past the other students in the hall, weaving through them with practiced grace.

Max barely paid any attention to where her feet were talking her, blinking in confusion when she found herself standing at the bus stop in front of Blackwell. She sighed in relief when it came within a few short minutes. Slipping some change from her pocket, she paid her fare and took a seat.

Exhausted, she lay back and tried her best to relax, gazing out the window with a bored expression.

Resigned to heading towards the Two-Whales – as there wasn't really anywhere else off-campus to spend her time – Max drew a notebook out of her bag and looked over it.

"What to do… what to do," she muttered, jotting down a few piece thoughts about her day.

Max never really broke the habit of keeping a journal, although her writing became vastly more cryptic as time went on. Key phrases and gibberish symbols made up her notebook, slung together in such a way that only she could understand.

She snorted aloud, realizing that her journal looked more like the Voynich Manuscript than a teenage girls diary.

Not that she was really a teenager, of course, but she realized long ago that she wasn't far from it, emotionally at least. Insanity tends to lead to a bit of stunting after all.

That, and reliving your teenage years decade after decade. No room to grow.

She tucked her notebook away as the bus rolled towards the modest diner but stopped herself before pulling the cord to announce her stop.

Lowering her hand, she leaned into her seat.

The bus drove on for another five minutes before Max got off, walking up the gravel road she found herself on towards Frank's RV.

He normally parked it just outside the town limits, just enough out of the way to never have cops or highway patrols passing by.

Not that people didn't know what he did, Max knew that a good portion of the police in Arcadia Bay were regular customers of his – but they had an agreement.

He stays out their way, and they stay out of his.

"What a fucking cesspool," she grumbled, knocking on his door.

It swung open, revealing Frank in all his glory. Neck tattoos, messy goatee, and the same stained leather jacket he always wore.

"Who the fuck are you?" he growled, a cigarette dangling out of his mouth.

"Who is it?" a woman's voice called out.

Frank eyed Max dangerously. "Some fuckin' kid." He took a long drag off his cigarette, blowing the smoke in Max's face. "So, who the fuck are you?"

"I'm new in town, wanted to pick up."

Frank ashed his cigarette on the side of the RV, his free hand tucked into his jacket pocket. Max had to stop herself from smiling at him. As if Frank could ever best her in a knife fight.

"You got the wrong place, kid. Get the fuck outta' here."

He went to shut the door, but Max placed her hand against it before he could. "Heroin. I know you sell."

Frank laughed loudly, turning his head to whoever else was in the RV. "You hearing this shit? Girl scout here wants some smack."

Max swore as Chloe stepped into view. "Frank you don't…" Chloe's mouth dropped, her eyes widening. "Max?"

She rewound immediately.

"…fuck outta' here."

"Weed. I'm new to Blackwell, Victoria sent me."

He frowned. "Victoria?"

Max raised her hand, holding it flat a few inches above her head. "Yeah. Blonde bitch, about yea' high?"

Frank stuck his head out, looking both ways before nodding. "Get in here."

Max stepped into the RV, feigning shock as she locked eyes with Chloe. "Hey!"

Chloe smiled widely. "Maxaroni! Hey bud! What're you doing here?"

Max jabbed her thumb towards Frank. "Came to pick up. Heard that Frank is the guy to talk to."

"Damn straight."

Frank scowled at the two of them. "You know each other?"

Max nodded.

"Well, you better remind this dyke that she owes me."

Chloe threw her hands up. "Christ, Frank. You know I'm good for it."

"Yeah? Well, you keep spending all your fuckin' money on my weed. Doesn't really seem like you're interested in paying me back."

"How much?" Max interrupted.

"What?"

"I said, how much?"

Frank snorted. "Bout' three grand."

She hummed, thumbing through her bag and pulling out a cheque book. "Got a pen?"

He stared at her in disbelief. "What?"

Max held her hand out, shooting a wink in Chloe's direction.

Not that Chloe had the mental faculties at the moment to do much more than gape at her.

"A pen."

He stood there for a moment, not quite processing what was happening. Frank blinked a few times, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, gimme' a sec." He pulled open a drawer, rifling through it. "Here," he said, tossing the pen towards her.

Snatching it out of the air, Max quickly filled out the cheque, signing it with a flourish. "This should cover what she owes you, plus interest."

Frank took it from her, glancing over the cheque. "You fuckin' serious?" He stared at Max, waving the slip of paper in her face. "This isn't gonna' bounce?"

"It's not going to bounce. Trust me."

He apparently found that incredibly amusing, roaring with laughter. Frank bent over, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"Damn. Looks like this kid has your back, huh? Not like that bitch Ra- "

"Not a word," Chloe hissed, finally collecting herself. She glanced at Max, confusion in her eyes. "You needed to pick up?"

"Yep."

"I've got you." She pointed towards one of many jars lying on the counter, packed full with thick cloves of green. "Gimme' an eighth of the girl-scout cookies."

"I thought you didn't have any more money," Frank retorted, fingers tickling at his pocket. "Could barely afford a twenty."

Max put her hand up. "Does Chloe owe you any more money?" She pointed at the cheque. "Apart from what I just gave you?"

He crossed his arms. "No."

"Then shut up and let her buy the damn weed."

Frank studied her for a moment, before his lips pulled into a wry smile. "You've got guts, kid." He snatched a plastic bag out of the drawer, pulling the latch off a mason jar. "An eighth?"

Chloe nodded.

He eyeballed it, pulling a small handful of buds out of the jar and placing them in the bag, holding it up in front of his face with one eyebrow raised.

Frank didn't say anything as he handed the baggy to Max.

"Cheers."

"You two going to get the fuck out of my house now?"

Max fiddled with the bag, a frown on her face. "Chloe, let's get out of here."

"Not without my money."

Grumbling, Chloe took out her wallet, handing Frank a stack of bills. "This should be enough."

He counted them over, nodding once. "Get out. Now."

The two of them slid out the door, Max tucking the baggie into the pocket of her jacket.

As soon as they were out the door, Chloe grabbed Max by the shoulder and dragged her around the RV.

Ah, that's where she parked it.

"Holy shit Maximus! That was crazy!" Chloe shouted, throwing her arms around Max as soon as they'd gotten into the truck. "You're such a badass!"

Max hugged her back, a soft smile on her face. "I try my best."

"Hella. Fucking. Awesome."

"Hella," Max echoed, tasting the word like a delicacy.

Chloe whooped as she stuck the keys in the ignition, tires squealing as the truck tore away, spitting mud in its wake.

"Christ on a pogo-stick Max! First with step-douche, now with Frank? You're on a fuckin' spree!"

Max scratched her arm, glancing at the crook of her elbow. "What can I say? I'm a badass."

"Can't believe little Max is buying drugs," Chloe said, dragging out the word like she was telling a horror story. "Although, you did hit that joint I whipped out when you were over."

"I don't think I'm the Max that you remember."

"Yeah, uh- yeah you're not wrong there." Chloe coughed into her hand. "Bit different, but I mean, you're still Max."

"Yeah, I guess."

Max frowned out the window, trying to hide her frustration.

After living so long and seeing so much she'd picked up a few… bad habits.

She didn't exactly have to deal with withdrawal symptoms, considering her ability to rewind before she had even gotten injured – or high.

As such, harder substances didn't have much of an effect on her.

Yes, she craved on occasion, but it never damaged her.

At least, that's what she told herself.

Heroin took away the pain. It took away everything.

After so many years, Max found she needed an outlet, some way to push away the horrors she'd witnessed. Yes, killing was a past-time of hers, but it was only that. A way to quell the boredom, to make sure she stayed sharp, prepared in case she needed to defend herself.

Again, that's what she told herself.

Heroin was something she'd picked up along the way, probably a hundred timelines in.

She'd found herself plagued by nightmares, and that was when she managed to find sleep. Her days ran longer and longer until she found herself fainting from exhaustion.

The insomnia nearly killed her once, passing out on the sidewalk and stumbling head-long into traffic. The only reason she'd survived was because she'd been pulled out of the way by a random passerby.

Heroin gave her a moment of respite. A few precious hours tucked away from the world and all the pain it could bring.

She grunted quietly. Frustrated.

It looked like she'd have to settle on weed instead. At least she wouldn't have to rewind after using it. That got exhausting after a while.

"So, where to?"

"Huh?"

Chloe smirked at her. "Lookin' pretty out of it there. I said where to? What do you want to do?"

Max hummed. "I'm starving. Two-Whales?"

"Sounds good to me," Chloe said, flicking her turn signal and pulling over to the right side of the highway, ready for the exit. "You still hooked on waffles?"

"God, yeah." Max laughed. "I swear they put crack in those things."

"Wouldn't surprise me. A diner in a bumblefuck town like this has to make money somehow."

"Hey, this isn't a bumblefuck town."

Chloe scoffed. "Yeah? What else would you call it?"

"The armpit of Oregon?"

"Ha! I guess. You haven't lived here the last five years. Shit gets boring."

"I bet," Max agreed, choosing not to mention that she'd lived in Arcadia Bay for a few hundred years at least.

Chloe drummer her fingers against the wheel as she pulled into the Two-Whales, quickly nabbing a parking spot.

Clapping Max on the bag, she jumped out of the truck. "It's waffle time, baby."

Max paused in front of the door, frowning. "Did you just call me baby?"

Chloe only grinned at her. "Come on, let's get some food. Have you said hi to my mom yet?"

She shook her head. "No, I haven't had the chance to tell Joyce I'm back. Did you?"

"Nope." Chloe swung open the door. "She's going to be pissed at you, you know?"

Max let out a long sigh. "She is, isn't she?"

"It's all good kiddo." Chloe slapped her on the back. "I'll defend you."

"You defend me? I think I can handle myself."

Chloe practically flung herself into a booth, stretching out across it like a lazy cat. "Hey! I can be a badass too."

"What's this about badasses?"

Max turned around, grinning at a confused Joyce. "It's good to see you."

"See you? Who- oh! Max!" she pulled the girl into a hug, patting her a few times in the back. "My God, it's been so long. What? Five years?" Joyce pulled away, tugging playfully on Max's cheek. "How dare you not come by and visit."

Max put her hands up in surrender "I swear Joyce, I've been busy. I finally got myself set up properly at Blackwell."

"Huh. Well, don't you be a stranger, okay?"

Max nodded. "Promise."

"Good." Joyce patted her on the back, directing Max to her seat. "What can I get you two?"

"Burger and fries, extra Bacon," Chloe swiftly replied. "Oh, and a shake! Chocolate."

"Waffles and a cup of coffee for me, thanks," Max said when Joyce directed her attention towards her.

Joyce mumbled as she jotted their orders down on her notepad. "Waffles? You sure about that?"

"As long as they're as delicious as I remember."

She smiled. "So polite! You could learn a lot from her, Chloe."

"C'mon. Not now mom."

Joyce rolled her eyes. "Just saying."

"I'll keep it in mind," Chloe groused, staring at the ceiling. "Thanks mom."

Chloe leaned forward in her seat, propping her head up on her hands, elbows resting on the table. "So, what was all that?"

"All what?"

"With Frank." Chloe waved her hand above her head aimlessly. "You paid for my shit."

"I… have quite a bit of money saved up. I thought I'd help out a friend."

"Just like that?"

"Yes. Just like that."

Chloe pursed her lips. "You sure? Also, when the fuck did you come into enough money to just throw around three grand like that?"

Max very nearly replied, 'Five days ago, cheating the stock market.'

She instead went with something safer. Max had already accidentally revealed herself to one person, and she didn't want Chloe getting involved just as much as she didn't want Kate to.

They both ended up dying. Often.

"I got lucky. My mum bought some scratchers for my birthday and one of them was a winner."

"Damn." Chloe whistled. "How much?"

"About three hundred thousand."

"Jesus Max. That's some 'fuck you' money right there."

She laughed. "I wouldn't say it's 'fuck you' money, but it's more than enough to get me through college and another decade without suffering."

"Yeah. You can go anywhere you want to," Chloe mumbled, and Max couldn't help but notice the resentment in her voice.

"Are you really going to be like this Chloe?"

"Be like what?"

"Be jealous. Angry about it." She reached across the table, patting Chloe on the arm. "Trust me, I know how to make even more money using what I have. I help my friends."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Now stop being a bitch about it. It's not a good look on you."

Chloe sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. I just… I've wanted to leave this place for so damn long. Living in this armpit is a fucking drag, and I just want to experience something, you know?"

"I get what you mean. Just don't try and base our friendship – as new as it is – on money. I literally just paid off your very curious debt to a goddamn drug dealer. What's that all about?"

"I…"

Chloe clenched her hands into fists, tongue flitting across her bottom lip. "Me and my… a friend, we wanted to get out of Arcadia Bay. She convinced Frank to loan me enough money to get ourselves set up in L.A., but our plans fell through before we could even get jobs.

"After we were forced to come back, everything went to shit." Chloe paused, rolling her eyes. "Well, more to shit. She- she's no longer a part of my life, and I don't exactly have a great job at the moment what with being a drop out and all. Money is… it stresses me out."

"I'm sorry, but try not to take it out on me, okay?"

"I… yeah, I can do that."

Chloe suddenly perked up, head bobbing. "Food."

Max rubbed her hands together as Joyce strolled over, setting their plates down in front of them. "Milkshake and a coffee, sugar and cream is right there," she announced, pointing at the little rack of condiments. "Gimme' a shout if you two girls need anything."

"Thanks mom," Chloe blurted, already tearing into her burger.

Max echoed her thanks, quickly drenching her waffles in syrup and digging in.

They sat and ate, the only sound between them being hurried chewing and the scraping of forks and knives.

"We good?"

Chloe looked up at Max. "What?"

"Are we good? Everything kosher?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"You looked pretty damn scared of me the last time I saw you. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't freaking you out or- "

"Max," Chloe interrupted, pointing at her with her fork. "I'm gonna' be honest. You did freak me the hell out when you got all up in step-fucks face." She paused, searching for the right words. "What you did… I've never seen someone do that kind of shit, even in movies. Not like that. You fixed your own broken nose. A broken nose, Max – and you did it like you've done it plenty of times before. Hell, you even said you learned from experience."

She stuck a fry in ketchup and bit off half of it, chewing slowly. "Step-douche doesn't know that shit and he was in the friggin' military. Don't get me wrong, I hate the guy – especially for what he did to you, but he saw combat. Actual firefights. It doesn't get more serious than that.

"So, little Max Caulfield hitting me up one day out of the blue? Five years later and she's getting up in the face of a guy who did two tours, only to have him slap the shit out of her and then pop her nose back into place like it's no big deal?" Chloe finished the rest of her fry, her cheeks puffing out. "Yeah, that's gonna' scare the fuck out of me."

Max's shoulders slumped as she leaned against the wall. "Look, if you don't want to hang out with me, I get it. I've uh… I've been through some pretty nasty shit Chloe. Stuff I can't tell you about. I just want to make sure you understand that there are things I can't talk about, things you can't know."

She speared a piece of waffle with her fork, toying with it absently. "I'll be honest with you, I owe you that much. I've seen some shit… done some crazy things. Things I'm not proud of. But you know what?"

Chloe blinked. "Oh, that wasn't rhetorical?"

Max laughed, taking a sip of her coffee. "Sorry, I'm prone to dramatic pauses." She steepled her fingers. "I like you a lot Chloe. I never forgot our friendship, not for a single day. It's what's gotten me through all the shit I've had to deal with these last few years."

More like last few centuries.

"I just don't want to lose that friendship, even if it's just begun again."

Chloe stirred her milkshake, eyes locked to the table.

"Shit, Max."

"Yeah, I know." She rubbed the back of her head. "Sorry."

"No, no, don't apologize," Chloe stammered, grabbing another fry. "I didn't expect you to be this forward, is all. Look, I… I like you a lot too. I missed spending time with you, tearing around this shithole town and pretending to be pirates…"

She snorted in amusement. "We were great friends. The best of friends. I shouldn't let some fuckin' stupid little thing like you moving get in the way."

"Chloe, you were going through a lot."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have pushed you away. It was pretty shitty of me, and I regret it."

Max smiled at her. "And I regret not ever calling you."

"Hey, we both didn't call." Chloe grinned, bits of potato stuck to her teeth.

"Oh, gross."

"What?" Chloe ran her tongue over her teeth, scowling. "Ah fuck, that probably was really disgusting, wasn't it?"

"Very."

"Damnit Price, you're supposed to be smooth," Chloe chastised herself.

"The smoothest of the smooth. I'm sure you have the ladies eating out of your palm."

Chloe blushed. "Oh, you heard that, huh?"

"Kind of hard to ignore what that prick said."

"It… it doesn't bother you?" Chloe asked, a glimmer of fear in her eyes.

"Chloe, I'm gay."

"What."

Max pointed at herself. "Gay. A lesbian. Dyke."

"Hold up, hold up." Chloe put both her hands in the air. "Little Max Caulfield is gay?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"But you had such a huge crush on… what was that fuckin' kids name? Jake? James?"

"Jason." Max ran her fingers through her hair. "Probably because he looked like a tiny butch chick."

Chloe cackled, slapping the table. "Ah shit, you're totally right. Little Justin Bieber lookin' motherfucker. Damn." She raised her eyebrows. "So, you're a bona fide lesbian?"

"Do I have to repeat myself?"

"No, it's all good. Just trying to wrap my head around it."

"Take all the time you need." Max glanced over her shoulder. "Your mom is coming back."

Joyce leaned on the booth; the corner of her mouth turned up into a smirk. "You two done?"

They both nodded, stacking their plates and handing them to her.

"The waffles were even better than I remembered."

"Aw, thanks Max. You're too kind."

"Really, they were fantastic."

Joyce waved her off, smiling widely. "Always with the flattery. You two get out of here, I don't want this one," she pointed at Chloe, "Causing any trouble."

Max laughed, while Chloe grumbled quietly. "Can do."

The two of them got up.

"Thanks mom," Chloe said, looking unsure of herself.

Joyce leaned in close, whispering in her ear.

Whatever she said caused Chloe to blush fiercely, stammering wordlessly in reply.

"Enough. You two go have fun. Paint the town red."

Max grabbed Chloe by the hand, dragging her out of the Diner. "Thanks Joyce."

"Any time, Max."

As they got into the car, Chloe turned to Max. "Back to Blackwell?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I need to get some homework done."

Chloe drove off, humming along to the music blasting out of the speakers as she drove Max home.

Max twiddled her thumbs, wishing she had stuck around to pick up a little more from Frank.

What can ya' do, she mused. Probably not a good idea anyways. I have to focus on fixing this shit anyways. It's too early for me to be fucking around.

"What'cha thinking about?" Chloe asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Nothing much, just math problems."

"Ugh, well don't go asking me for help. I'm miserable at math."

"I could always ask Ka- "

Max paused, frowning.

"Who?"

"Nobody."

"Oh, I think a hear a story here," Chloe taunted, taking her eyes off the road for a moment. "Lay it on me."

"It's nothing. I just had a falling out with a friend. It's not something I'm really interested in talking about."

"She your girlfriend?"

Max coughed, looking at Chloe incredulously. "What?"

"Your girlfriend," Chloe repeated, clicking her tongue. "Sounds to me like girlfriend troubles."

"She's not my girlfriend, and I'm not interested even if she wanted to be. That girl is a bleeding-heart Christian. She's good, don't get me wrong, wouldn't ever hold my sexuality against me; but she's as straight as straight comes."

"Ah shit. You fell for a straight girl."

"Chloe, I'm not interested in her like that," Max stated vehemently, staring Chloe down.

Max noted that Chloe's expression seemed a touch more thoughtful. "Alright, alright. Forget I said anything."

"Thank you. Anyways, she's not my type."

"Uh-huh? And what is?"

Max tapped her chin. "Hm. I've never really thought about it to be honest. I just like who I like."

"C'mon Max, gimme' a little fuel here. I might have to play matchmaker for you some day."

Max chuckled. "You, playing matchmaker? Seriously?"

Chloe pouted. "Aw, come on. Tell me."

"Ugh, fine." Max tapped her fingers on the arm rest, nose crinkled. "Probably someone clever… smart, and they'd have to have a wicked sense of humour. Well, if we're talking personality, that is. Physically? I don't know, I like strong women, that's for sure."

Chloe hummed. "Some head crushing thighs?"

"Jesus Christ."

"What! Don't tell me you haven't thought about it!"

They pulled into the Blackwell parking lot as Max laughed, shaking her head. "What about you?"

Chloe put the truck in park, turning to face her. "I don't know."

"Yeah? Come on, I told you."

Sucking air through her teeth, Chloe turned to face Max. "You really want to know?"

"Of course."

Before Max could react, Chloe had leaned forward, kissing her on the lips. "Little sassy brunettes," she whispered.

"Oh."

Max pulled away, shocked.

Chloe had never made the first move on her. Ever.

"I, uh- "

"Oh, fuck." Chloe's expression morphed into one of dismay. "Fuck, fuck fuck!" She shouted, slamming her hand on the wheel.

"Chloe, I- "

"It's fine, just get out."

"Chloe."

"Get out of the truck."

Max sighed, placing her hand on Chloe's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Get. Out."

She raised her hands placatingly. "I… I would be interested if I didn't have a ton of shit going on right now, okay Chloe?"

Max knew she had to focus on what was happening in Arcadia Bay. She didn't have time for a relationship until Jefferson and the Prescott's were put away.

She didn't have time for a relationship that she knew would destroy Chloe's life.

The timing wasn't right. If she was to… entertain the idea, it would have to be after Arcadia Bay was safe – after she had solved the mystery of the storm and put three incredibly dangerous people in prison.

Chloe growled. Honest to God growled. "I said. Get out of my truck."

"Alright." Max acquiesced, grabbing her bag off the floor. "This won't fuck things up between us?"

Grunting, Chloe turned away, looking out the window.

Max pursed her lips. "I still want to be your friend, Chloe."

"Can you get the fuck out of my truck? Please and thank you?" she retorted, not turning around.

"Fine. Just know that you can always call me, okay?"

Chloe stayed silent as Max stepped out of the truck, landing noisily on the pavement.

"Don't be a stranger Chloe," she said as she shut the door, watching as the truck peeled out of the lot.

Max stared into the distance. "Well, shit."