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“And then you were like: ‘Goodbye, Max! I wish it could be any other way, but I have to die heroically defending the town I love!’ And so I was like: ‘No, Chloe! I will never allow that to happen! I would sooner let the world burn down than see you suffer any more!’ And then I tore the magical photograph in two and let the screeching wind take it!”
“Uh-huh. And then we kissed, I presume?”
“No! We would’ve kissed had I chosen to sacrifice you. But I didn’t! I wouldn’t! I couldn’t! Not in a million years! But we did kiss on Wednesday morning, in your room”.
“Yeah, you told me. We kissed, or rather you kissed me after we woke up from a night we’d spent together in my bed. Dressed only in t-shirts and boxer shorts for some reason. Even though it was October, when the nights are already hella cold. I guess we kept each other warm”.
Max started giggling uncontrollably at the “keeping each other warm” remark. She placed her hand on her lips in a vain attempt to stifle her rising laughter.
Chloe sighed. She really shouldn’t have given Max that reefer.
They were both sitting on the bench near the lighthouse, next to the tree stump they had marked years ago with their initials. It was late in the afternoon. The sun was slowly lowering itself below the horizon, painting the ocean red. It was the 2nd of September 2013, first day of Chloe’s senior year at Blackwell.
Three hours earlier, when Chloe walked into her final class of the day, she saw the last person she expected to see there. Max Caulfield. Her best friend who had gone missing in action five years prior. Max just stood there. And when she saw Chloe, she smiled and waved at her. Chloe barely stopped herself from flying into a fit of rage. She asked all the questions she’d been wanting to ask Max for the past five years. And some new questions that popped into her mind right there and then. She did so, loudly, not caring she was making a scene of it in front of her classmates.
“Why did you never pick up your phone when I called?!
Why did you stop responding to my texts?!
Why did you never write?!
The things you said on the tape you left me. Were they all lies? Did you really love me?!”
The “love” part elicited loud “oohs” from the rest of the class. Chloe couldn’t care less that her carefully cultivated façade of a tough loner who doesn’t need anyone had just been shattered into a billion pieces.
“How could you transfer to Blackwell without letting me know you were coming back?!
Why? WHY?! What do you want from me?! Do you even want anything from me?!”
Max just stood there, growing redder and redder on the face, to the point her freckles stopped being visible.
Out of breath after her tirade, Chloe was panting. And then Max, the last person Chloe expected to see that day, told Chloe the last thing she expected to hear from her. In the event she ever saw Max again, Chloe expected indifference. Perhaps even mockery. But not this.
Max was stammering, her eyes on the floor. “I … I mean … I was …” And then she lifted her gaze and looked Chloe deep in the eyes. Whatever Max’s train of thought had been, it clearly left the station without her. Forgetting whatever excuse or explanation she was trying to articulate, Max stated matter-of-factly, simply describing objective reality in front of her: “You look very pretty, Chloe”.
Now it was Chloe’s turn to blush.
The classroom erupted into laughter, hooting and less-than-subtle comments about Chloe’s and the new girl’s romantic preferences. Said comments could easily be quoted as proof for the dire need to introduce sex-ed classes to Blackwell, because most of them, especially the ones mentioning clams and scissors for some unknowable reason, betrayed that the students making them had porn as their sole source of knowledge about intimacy. Only after Miss Grant arrived, five minutes late, the chaos was brought to a halt and the unruly teenagers were forced into their student desks. Nobody paid attention to the class. The constant notification sounds proved that everyone was exchanging texts or posting on social media about Max’s and Chloe’s lovers’ spat. Chloe didn’t care her love life was being dissected by the entire school. She didn’t even care that the infamous Miss Arcadia was likely to make her and Max the topic of the day, if not of the week. She just sat silently, staring at the blackboard, processing. Near the end of the class, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Max, who had chosen the desk next to Chloe, was looking at her. She probably had been the entire class.
When the bell rang, Chloe picked up her backpack and left. She headed for the lighthouse. Max went after her. At first staying a few steps behind, but then she found her courage, quickened her pace and started walking next to Chloe. They walked in silence, Chloe looking straight ahead, Max looking at Chloe.
Chloe sat at the bench. Before Max sat next to her, she took her Polaroid out of her bag and snapped Chloe’s picture from behind, her silhouette against the setting sun. When Chloe heard the click of the shutter, her first reaction was annoyance. She thought: “You have no right to capture a piece of my soul with your camera. Not after five long years”. But the annoyance quickly gave way to something else. All the happy memories of Max taking their pictures with Chloe’s dad’s camera came flooding in. Chloe smiled. She barely managed to hide her smile before Max came over and sat next to her. Chloe decided she would play angry, disappointed and hard to get at least a little while longer.
They sat in silence. Neither watched the sunset. They looked in each other’s eyes, thinking intensively, trying to figure out how to resume an interrupted life. How to pick up the pieces of something that used to be beautiful before it was shattered. If not to put it back together, then at least to reforge it into something new.
Chloe had an idea how to loosen their tongues. She reached into her backpack and pulled out a reefer. It was the last weed she had ever bought. It had been a year ago.
Before she stopped buying, she usually perused Frank’s wares on weekends, when his RV was parked at the beach. She could easily buy from him on schooldays, like many of her classmates did. Frank was so brazen that he parked on the school parking lot during the week, the cops either so incompetent or so corrupt they were unable or unwilling to arrest someone selling drugs to schoolchildren in broad daylight. While Chloe never cared much for the rules of society, she felt buying drugs at school, even if it was just weed (and Frank had way harder stuff to offer that he sold to anyone, no questions asked), was lowering the bar. So she always took the extra effort of finding Frank at the beach, even if she had to walk there, because her wreck of a car gave out once more.
The day Chloe bought her last weed was a Saturday. She was intent on not only buying a little bit of green, but also borrowing money. She wanted to borrow three thousand dollars. That’s how much they had told her at the garage it would take to put her truck back into working order. There’s only so much duct tape and elbow grease can do with a car that has been left to rust in the junkyard for decades. At some point you have to start replacing parts, instead of gluing them back together. If she and Rachel were to have any hope of reaching California, Chloe’s truck had to be in tip top shape. But just before she left her junkyard hideout to meet with Frank, Chloe found a letter from Rachel. So she never borrowed the money. She wanted to leave town with Rachel. She never wanted to leave alone. What would even be the point of exchanging loneliness in Arcadia Bay for loneliness in Los Angeles? As Chloe was leaving Frank’s RV with weed, it dawned on her how she had almost made a terrible mistake. She had been inches away from borrowing thousands of dollars from a criminal who she knew for a fact had killed someone with a knife. Chloe had done many self-destructive things in her life, but that would’ve been easily the second most destructive thing she had ever done. The most self-destructive thing still being getting into a knife fight with another violent drug dealer, just to prove to a girl she had met three days prior she would do anything for her. Love really makes people do stupid shit. Vowing never to make any deals with Frank ever again, Chloe left the last reefer for a special occasion.
Today was most certainly a special occasion. The special occasion. She lit the reefer and gave it to Max. Max took one hit. Just one. Chloe couldn’t have possibly predicted that would be enough to launch Max into such a crazy tirade. Seeing the effect it immediately had on Max, Chloe threw the reefer on the ground and extinguished it with the heel of her boot. Maybe it went bad? Can weed even go bad? But the damage had already been done.
Having taken what was in all likelihood her first hit of weed (and simultaneously her last one, if Chloe would have anything to say about it), Max started spinning a wild tale. Of murder, kidnapping, time travel, suicide, apocalyptic weather events, cruelty, sorrow and hardship. But also of love, friendship, perseverance, loyalty, strength and courage. Chloe was genuinely impressed that Max was able to come up on the spot with what was essentially a brand new season of Twin Peaks. Some of the casting choices Chloe found bizarre, though.
Why did Max cast Nathan Prescott as a murderer and a date rapist? Nathan was a quiet and reserved geek, mostly known for being (and often referred to as) Samantha Myers’s boyfriend. Samantha was the current student body’s president on an anti-bullying crusade and Nathan played the role of a supportive first husband. Chloe was genuinely proud of having played the matchmaker between them three years prior.
And why did Max cast Mark Jefferson, the chemistry teacher, as the diabolical mastermind? Was it because the real photography teacher, Michelle Grant, was so nice that no amount of weed could make you imagine her hurting anyone?
Chloe chalked up the weird casting choices on Max having been at Blackwell for only a day and thus having limited understanding of the way things were around there. Although some things Max guessed correctly. Or perhaps Max, being her perceptive self, as a photographer should be, didn’t guess but simply immediately saw them for what they were. The bullying. The empty displays of pageantry. Some of the school staff being more interested in getting drunk than caring for their charges. Empty-headed boys treating girls like objects.
And the part about David hitting her? Max must’ve seen her in the school corridor earlier in the day, arguing with David, who was not only Chloe’s stepfather, but also Blackwell’s security officer. At one point David raised his hand, which never failed to make Chloe twitch a bit, something she considered to be her personal failure every time it happened. She didn’t know if David did this on purpose, as a warning, or if this was simply the way he gesticulated when in anger. But it always served as reminder of the few times he slapped her. Before listening to Max’s tale, Chloe had never thought about it, but now she was certain that David would indeed risk his life to save that of his stepdaughter. But she wished there would be some way for David to fulfil his promise of being there for her, of “doing whatever he could to help her get over the loss of her dad” that didn’t involve her being murdered and needing resurrection through time travel.
The grand finale of Max’s tale was likely inspired by the previous year’s summer blockbuster “The Dark Knight Rises”, with Chloe’s attempted sacrifice reminiscent of Batman flying the nuclear bomb over the ocean. Chloe was flattered that it would be Christian Bale who would play her in the movie adaptation. Even though Chloe had discovered quite some time ago that she preferred girls, she still was able to appreciate male beauty, like one would appreciate art in a gallery. And Christian Bale was not only a superb actor, but also quite hot. As for Anne Hathaway playing Max? Two beautiful, slender brunettes. Chloe could see that working out.
Chloe remembered the comic they had written together with Max. “The Adventures of Super Max and Doctor Chloenstein”. In issue #3 they did an origin story for Doctor Chloenstein. It was a flashback of the time Super Max and Chloenstein were GIs during WWII. Chloenstein threw herself on a live grenade to save the lives of her squad. It blew her to smithereens. Chloe still remembered how they drew her namesake’s dismembered body, with the severed limbs resembling cartoon depictions of Christmas hams – fleshy cylinders with single bones sticking out. She wondered if this was how it would look like if she was run over by a train for real, like in Max’s daydream. In Chloenstein’s origin story, Super Max came to the rescue immediately, putting the good Doctor back together, using her laser sight to sew her back into one piece and her super breath to perform CPR.
Chloe began to see a pattern. Max coming up with stories about Chloe finding herself in mortal danger but being saved at the last moment by her faithful friend. Stories which were an expression of Max’s desire to protect Chloe. Which gave her an opportunity to prove to Chloe how much she meant to Max. And conspicuously, those stories involved their lips touching.
Max was still laughing. After a moment, she composed herself and continued telling her story. Their story. “I was like, devastated seeing the wreckage of the Storm. I was about to burst into tears. But then you placed your hand on my shoulder, like that”. Max demonstrated, using her hand and Chloe’s shoulder. Chloe blushed. “And just like that, I started smiling. Then you drove us off into the sunset”. Much to Chloe’s chagrin, Max took her hand off her shoulder. Max needed both hands to pantomime operating a steering wheel. Chloe expected her to start making “vroom, vroom” sounds with her mouth, but Max didn’t place that cherry on top. “After that we went to visit your stepfather in his hippie commune …”
In Chloe’s mind, David the avid Fox News watcher becoming a member of a hippie commune was even crazier than time travel. And this was supposed to be their story, not David’s or anyone else’s. Chloe steered Max back on track, letting her know she was available.
“Max, you know you didn’t have to kill off Rachel to remove her from the picture, right? She dumped me, quite unceremoniously, a year ago. And where did you come up with her being missing? You saw her during class today. She’s the blonde one”.
“You’re my blonde!” – exclaimed Max.
While the first blue highlight in Chloe’s hair was obviously a nod to Rachel’s feather earring, Chloe’s decision to dye her hair completely blue was her own. And yet, after Rachel broke up with her, Chloe stopped dying her hair. She lost her appetite for colour blue. She let her hair grow out. It now extended slightly past her shoulders. Half of it was her natural strawberry blonde, half was faded blue. She considered cutting the blue parts, but she didn’t, because she thought it would be a sign her breakup with Rachel hurt her to the point she felt compelled to remove any traces of Rachel from her life. And Chloe wanted to seem blasé about the whole affair, even though she was most certainly hurt. A lot. For the same reason, she didn’t quit the photography class, which she had signed onto for the sole purpose of spending more time with Rachel. She even took the class again her senior year. Because otherwise she would have to admit, to others and to herself, why she took that class in the first place. Chloe bitterly realized that for a rebel she sure cared a lot about what other people thought about her.
“Wait, why is half your hair cotton candy?” Max seemed to just now notice Chloe’s hair dye. She grabbed a strand of Chloe's hair, perhaps a little too tight in her eagerness. “Can I taste it? It must be sweet”.
Chloe gently took Max's hand and freed her hair from Max's curious fingers. “Woah, Max! I’m not sure if … tasting someone’s hair is still first or is it already second base, but let’s just … slow down a little bit”.
People reacted to weed differently. Some were animated and others sleepy. Some were cheerful and others sad. It seemed Chloe’s refusal to have her cotton candy hair tasted switched Max from being “cheerful high” into being “sad high”. “God, Chloe. I’m such a loser. I’m sorry. I didn’t …”
At no point in her life, even when she was deeply angry with her, Chloe wanted Max to be sad. Seeing Max sad immediately made Chloe sad too.
“Shh! It’s okay, Max. You’re not a loser. Remember what you told me the day my dad … The day we found Bloody Bill’s treasure chest? You told me I could never be a loser. Now I’m telling you the same thing. Max Caulfield, you could never possibly be a loser. And I’m also fairly certain you told me on some other occasion that if the worst comes to be, we would be losers together. So if the unimaginable happens, I’m up for sharing your loserhood with you. You’re just … tired. It’s been a long, eventful day for the both of us. And I really shouldn’t have given you that shit, Max. I’m sorry. How about you lie down and rest for a while? Remember us sitting on my couch? Me being such a space hog? Now you be the hog”.
Chloe patted her thighs, expecting Max to place her legs on her lap. Instead, Max placed her head there. Max closed her eyes and dozed off. Chloe embraced Max with one arm and gently run her fingers through the brunette’s hair with the other.
Max woke up as soon as the last sun rays disappeared over the horizon, draped in Chloe’s black leather jacket serving as a blanket. She was lying on her right side, with her head on Chloe’s lap and Chloe’s left arm embracing her.
Max jolted herself into sitting position, turned to Chloe and quickly embraced her with both arms, almost sweeping Chloe off the bench in the process.
“Chloe! Oh, you’re really here with me!”
When Max finally let Chloe out of her embrace, Chloe playfully quoted herself, or rather a different version of herself: “I see that the real Max is back”.
Even though Max was still a little bit groggy from the weed, it was the best wake up she had had in years. Better than any Christmas morning. The best wake up since the sleepovers at the Prices’ all those years ago.
Max seemed surprised with what Chloe said. Chloe reassured her: “It’s okay, we’re both safe. The town is safe too. This is not Episode 5 ‘Polarized’ or Episode 4 ‘The Dark Room’, where you reacted similarly to seeing me alive after you emerged from time jumps. See? I paid attention to your tale. Honestly, the fact that you separated your weed trip into episodes and that you began each episode with a summary of the previous episode’s events is … beyond adorable”.
“I … only have a general gist of what I told you. Listen, Chloe. There are many things I need to tell you and I don’t know if I already have. Things about what I did and didn’t do and why I did or didn’t do it. Things about how I feel”.
“You’ve already said plenty, Max. It’s only fair that now I say something. You can’t be the one doing the entire work, Super Max. Let your pal Doctor Chloenstein do some heavy lifting too. I told you once that we are always together, even when we’re not. And you repeated that on the tape you left me. That wasn’t just us being mushy. That has always been true. I never stopped imagining how your life went, what you were doing. I would often think about that. About you. There was always a version of you present with me. When you left, we were both still kids. But the part of you that stayed with me, she didn’t remain a kid. That part of you was not a memory. Memories of lost loved ones are dead, frozen. But she was alive. She kept growing with me. She lost her ponytail and grew out her hair. Her pudgy face of a kid gave way to a beautifully sculpted face with prominent cheekbones. She started having her own style of dress and makeup. And at some point I realized I not only had lost my best friend. I also had lost the person I wanted to fall in love with. When I realized that, your absence, the lack of you, already unbearable, hit me even harder. And today, when I saw you, when I heard you say I was pretty … I realized the part of you that stayed with me and the rest of you, you both grew up to be the same. You looked the same, you talked the same, you felt the same way about me and I felt the same way about you. She wasn’t just a figment of my imagination. She really was a part of you. Perhaps it’s been me all along who’s had some kind of superpower. Perhaps I wasn’t just imagining what you were doing. Perhaps I really saw you from time to time with my mind’s eye. Telepathy or however you want to call it. Or maybe it wasn’t any kind of superpower. Just love. I mean, in your story, wasn’t the source of your time travelling power love as well? Why a butterfly? Insect wings, like a seraph? A guardian angel? You wanted to be my guardian angel. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is”.
“Chloe, love IS a superpower. The greatest of them all”.
“I missed getting all mushy with you, Max”.
Max sighed. “There’s no excuse for me neglecting you. I wasn’t there for you when you needed my support. There’s an explanation, though. In all honesty, it makes me look even worse than if I simply said I don’t know why I ghosted you. But I want to tell you the truth, because you deserve it. No more bullshit. I know I should’ve supported you after your dad’s death. I should’ve called you every day. I should’ve pestered my parents until they let me visit you. And if they didn’t, I should’ve just taken a bus to get to you. It’s not like Seattle is on the moon. But I didn’t do any of those things. Because I was afraid. I was afraid the moment we met or even spoke on the phone, you’d see right through me. And you’d hate me. I could never hide anything from you. The day William was killed, you immediately knew how I felt. That I wanted to postpone telling you about my move. You read me as an open book. And the day of the funeral, a new chapter was added. Sometimes, you realize how you feel about someone only after you lose them. And so that night, as I was lying in my new bed in my new room in my new home in Seattle, the only thing I could think of was how pretty you looked in your black pantsuit and how it would feel to be kissed by you. I hated myself for thinking about you that way when you were dealing with your dad’s death. You needed a friend to lift you up, not someone trying to awkwardly court you. So I ignored your attempts at reaching out and made none of my own. I thought I would preserve at least some shreds of our relationship that way. So that we could one day begin again. Because I was afraid if you saw me looking at you not like at a friend, but like at a … girlfriend, you’d hate me for trying to use you in your grief instead of supporting you. So in the end, I neglected you because of my own feelings and I'm so ashamed of that. But when the opportunity to transfer to Blackwell came, I seized it. I knew I'd never work up the courage to visit you or even call you. But if I transferred, I'd have to see you in class. This summer, I both dreaded and awaited the first day of school. I was afraid of you hating me for abandoning you. And I counted the days until I got to see you again".
“Max, I wouldn’t have hated you. Even if it had turned out I wasn’t ready to … be your girlfriend, I wouldn’t have hated you. I’ve always loved you. I always will. In a myriad ways. In all the ways someone can love another person. It is impossible for me to hate you. And like I told you. I very quickly started feeling that way about you too".
“My parents always told me I should talk about my feelings. That I should never leave things unsaid. Who knew parents sometimes say smart things? All of that heartbreak could’ve been avoided had I just had the guts to call you”.
“You can’t change the past, Max. So stop worrying about it. You know we have all the time in the world ahead of us, right? We started a little bit late, but we still can do anything and everything we want. Together”.
“Oh yeah? Like what?” – Max asked playfully.
“I heard someone had been wondering how it would feel to be kissed by me. No need to wonder anymore”.
Chloe gently touched Max’s cheek with the palm of her hand. Max leaned into her touch. Chloe brought her face close to Max’s. For a while, they let their breaths mix. And then Chloe kissed her. When their lips finally parted, Chloe asked: “Was it worth the wait?”
“Definitely. It was even better than the thirteen year old me lying wide awake at 4 a.m. imagined”.
“Well, I know different ways of keeping you awake at night”.
“Chloe!”
“I’m joking you goofball. Like with all good things, you’ll have to wait for that. At least until our fourth date. I’m old fashioned like that”.
“Can we count today as our first date?”
“Yes we can. I can stamp your loyalty card if you wish”.
“Three more stamps to go!”
“Yup. And then you receive something far better than a free coffee. By the way. Me being a highschool dropout? I've always had better grades than you!"
"You know what they say, Chloe. The higher you climb, the harder you fall".
Chloe laughed. "Hey! I'm supposed to be the witty one!"
The next morning Max left her dorm room early and waited for Chloe at the bus stop in front of Blackwell. Her truck lacking three thousand dollars’ worth of repairs, Chloe disembarked from the yellow bus. She and Max walked up the steps and across the school yard holding hands. There was a welcoming committee waiting for them at the entrance.
Hayden, surrounded by his fellow jocks and with Victoria glued to his side, addressed Max loudly, so that everyone in the yard could hear. “Hey, new girl! I’m Hayden and this is Victoria. We’re co-presidents of a little VIP group called the Vortex Club. I’m sure you’ve heard about us. Words of our exploits reach far and wide. I’m sure we are the talk of the town even in Seattle”.
He was being delusional. Max had never heard about their club before yesterday. Nobody in Seattle knew what a “Vortex Club” was. Nobody cared.
“I bet we’re the main reason you transferred to Blackwell. Too bad we didn’t have the chance to make a proper introduction yesterday. You left in such a hurry! But here we are now. I’ve heard you’re a photographer. That’s cool. Vicky here is a photographer, too. We always have a spot for talented people. If you want, you could try out for the Vortex Club. We could try you out”. He looked Max over from head to toe, suggestively. Victoria laughed. The way he said the “trying out” part was beyond disgusting. Both Max and Chloe could taste bile in their mouths.
“There’s one problem though. One of us can’t hang out with a freak like her”. Hayden pointed to Chloe. “You know, we in the Vortex Club are not all fun and games. We provide a useful service. When freaks show up at this prestigious institution, we straighten them out”. He put an emphasis on “straight”. “And if they don’t respond to our teaching methods, well … Then we chase them away. For the good of the student body. See, Chloe here not only didn’t accept our efforts at helping her see that Blackwell is no place for scholarship kids like her. Oh no, she did far worse than that. She dared to interrupt our previous president’s efforts at teaching another freak, Nathan Prescott, a lesson. Refusing to learn is one thing. Sabotaging the education of others is another”.
Now Victoria spoke: “To put it simply, Max. You can’t be dating this dyke if you wish to join us. First she orbited poor Rachel, now she’s trying to lay her grubby hands on you. We get it, Max. Highschool is a time to experiment. All of us girls go through a bi-curious phase. But all phases have to come to an end. And then you settle for someone real”. Victoria said that, caressing Hayden’s toned chest.
Max felt Chloe loosen her grip a little. Max said, forcefully: “Chloe, you are insane if you think I would abandon you for a shitty school club full of budding rapists”.
“Max, the bullying here … It can get really bad. You remember what I told you on the day we looked for treasure? How they called me a ‘scholarship kid’, how they mocked my torn clothes? That was nothing. It got so much worse than that. I don’t want you going through even a fraction of that”.
“Yesterday you reminded me of something I forgot I’d even said. But I’ve never stopped meaning it. Even if we end up as losers, at least we’ll be losers together”.
Chloe gripped her hand firmly again.
Hayden was getting impatient to hear an answer. “So what say you, new girl? You up for trying out?”
For the second time in just as many days, Max said the last thing Chloe expected her to say. Max proclaimed loudly, for the entire school to hear: “Eat shit and die!”
The students gathered around burst into laughter. All of them except the members of the Vortex Club. Hayden shook his head derisively, and turned around to walk away. Victoria showed Max and Chloe not one, but two middle fingers and turned around to walk away too.
And then, more unexpected words left Max’s mouth. “Where are you going? I’m not done with you! Yeah, I’m talking to you! The two walking stereotypes whose names I didn’t bother to remember!”
Hayden and Victoria turned to face them again.
Max raised her hand holding Chloe’s, like a boxing referee proclaiming a champion.
“See this? Yesterday was my first day and I’m already dating the most beautiful girl in school”. Acknowledging Chloe’s beauty, Max looked Rachel, who was hovering on the edges of the Vortex Club crowd, dead in the eyes.
“I’m Long Max Silver! I sailed to this port and I claimed your greatest booty!”
Chloe smiled, amused by the double entendre. She wasn't certain if sweet innocent Max was aware this particular piece of pirate jargon had a different meaning as well. Either way, it made Max's tirade even better.
“I took the best Blackwell had to offer. Who knows what I’m coming for next? If I were you, I’d hide my lunch money. I might decide to plunder it”.
Hayden’s face was furious. He started walking towards Max. “You want me to kick your ass, huh?!”
Max was thoroughly unimpressed. She didn’t even flinch.
The other Vortex jocks stopped Hayden. “Dude, she’s a girl. That’s not a good look. Come on, Hayden. Just accept she owned you and move on. Yup, that was epic how she pwned you, bruh”.
The school bell rang. The Vortex Club dragged their president inside. Other students followed suit. Max and Chloe were approached by Samantha and Nathan.
“Hi, Max! I’m Samantha and this is Nathan. I can see why you and Chloe are sticking together. You girls have the same kind of energy. Max, while your methods might be … unorthodox, I always appreciate people who can stand up to bullies. And we do have a bully problem here at Blackwell. Miss Grant is organizing a competition to spread awareness about bullying. The theme is ‘everyday heroes’. People who make the lives of others better, even in small ways. You obviously have a lot to say. And I know you’re in Miss Grant’s class too. How about you express yourself by submitting a picture for the contest? Me and Nathan are taking part too”.
Max submitted a photograph for the contest. Chloe did as well. Chloe’s submission, her "everyday hero", was simply a portrait of Max.