Hellions of Arcadia

Chapter 7: Stepdouche

As most people may know, November is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) the goal is to write a whole novel in one month, but my goal is 50k words (since I'm not a fast writer) So starting tomorrow I will partake in that challenge. I'm going to be using that challenge mainly on my Amberprice fic so I can get it published. I won't be stopping the publication of this book, but updates may be a little wonky or infrequent while this event takes place, just so I can mainly focus on that novel. Starting December 1st updates will go back to regular. Now that's out of the way, enjoy the chapter!

Ps: Happy Halloween I guess? I don't really celebrate the holiday but for those who do. Have fun and stay safe if you're going out.

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Chloe

"Hello?" Chloe answered the ringing phone weakly. She didn't know what to expect. Would it be her mother? Or did David have some news about what's going on in Arcadia? "Chloe, thank god." Stepdouche's wobbly voice spoke into her ear. Chloe was caught momentarily off guard. David was happy to hear from her? Maybe what Max said about him caring for her was true...

"I tried callin' ya a few times but no one picked up. I got afraid..." He trailed off and Chloe reminded silent, she had no idea what to say. What could she say to a guy she hates, but who loves her? She couldn't. "Chloe?" He asked quietly, "you still there?"

"Yes." Chloe croaked, clearing her throat as Max gave her a concerned look from the couch. "I'm still here." She affirmed. "What's going on David?" She imagined him to say the worst he possibly could, that everyone was dead, the whole city was in flames, that Joyce was gone. "It's bad, Chloe." He sighs, sounding purely stressed. It creates a heavy knot in Chloe's stomach. "W... Well how are you alive?" She asked.

"You guys were right, the Blackwell art teacher was up to some shady shit. We caught him in an underground bunker full of sick shit." Chloe knew Max has heard what he said, because she flinched over on the couch, Chloe tried to ignore it. "Anyway, we were down there and saw the storm comin'. We stayed down to let it pass. Thank god." He groaned, sounded like he was in a lot of pain, Chloe wanted to feel happy that stepfucker was in pain. She just couldn't.

"And uh." Chloe paused, she almost didn't want to ask the question, but she had to. "Where's my mom?" She started panicking when David didn't answer for several beats, so did Max. "Chloe." David's voice sounded broken, like it completely gave up on talking. Chloe's guts twisted. "That's why I called you, Chloe. Your mother... She..." David had begun, but Chloe already knew what she was going to say. Her body let loose a tremor she hadn't been aware that she was holding back.

"She didn't make it, Chloe. The Two Whales collapsed while she was in it-" his voice broke off. Chloe was going to be sick. "I'm so sorry, Chloe." David sobbed out. By now, Max knew what was happening. She was off the couch and at Chloe's side in second, Palm between shoulder blades, rubbing soothingly. Chloe vaguely felt herself go limp, the phone smacked against the carpet floor.

She slowly sat down, her breaths ragged while she heard Max pick up the fallen cellphone. Chloe should have cried, but she couldn't. She stared at the floor as Max spoke to David behind her. Chloe felt a tremor ripple through her shoulders. Not Joyce... First her father, then Joyce. What had she done to piss off the world? Why did it always want her dead? What she did she do to make it so mad? A ripple of pure anger washed over her with a tide so strong she slammed her knuckles on the floor before her.

Fuck that hurt, but she didn't care. She couldn't care anymore. Her mother was dead. Chloe immediately thought back to every time she fought with Joyce, every time she didn't come home at night because she was partying with Rachel, or smoking out. Doing anything to upset her mother. When was the last time she told Joyce that she loved her? She couldn't remember. Well, she'll never be able to now.

The thought made Chloe sick, she jolted from the floor and scrambled to the kitchen, emptying her bowels into the sink. Chloe heard the brunette exclaim from the living room, coming over and laying a gentle hand on Chloe's back again. She leaned into Max's gentle touch subconsciously as she continued to empty her stomach into the sink, gags came from her throat in between heaves of vomit, she couldn't breathe.

Max ran a loving palm over the skin of Chloe's back. The blue haired girl leaned into the touch as she panted and fought to regain her breath. She looked back at Max, a string of spittle-mixed with vomit-connected her lips to the sink. Max sighed and grabbed a paper towel, carefully wiping Chloe lips. "Come on," she sighed out. "Let's clean you up."

Chloe whined, but she didn't speak. She felt like her vocal chords were broken, she lat Max take her to the table and sit her down carefully. She surrendered to Max's careful hands, letting the smaller girl use paper towels soaked in warm water to wipe her face, and some of the clothes. Which had been in the splash zone of vomit.

The punk started to relax under Max's hot skin. Watching mesmerized as the smaller girl bit her lip in thought as she helped clean Chloe up. She watched as Max chewed on her lip, rolling it between her teeth. Chloe suddenly desperately wanted to replace Max's teeth with her own. Max threw away the last of the paper towel and set beside Chloe. Her chest heaving as she landed on the couch.

"Chloe, I'm sorry." She apologized slowly. Chloe didn't say anything for a while, she tried to wake her vocal chords up. "For what?" She finally responded, just barely above a whisper. Her voice sounded so broken that she wanted to smack herself for it. Max slowly moved her hand up to Chloe's. Slowly caressing it with her thumb. Chloe felt herself heat from the gesture. Grabbing max's hand and squeezing it tightly.

"I talked to David." Max said quietly, holding Chloe's hand firmly. "He said the survivors were gathered outside the Hospital. Not everyone died, Chloe." Chloe didn't care. Her mother was dead, she was the last decent person left in that town, all the others didn't matter, not to her. "I think we should go back, to help. I... I mean we did cause this-"

Chloe shook her head. "I don't want to go back." She murmured. Why did Max want to go back? Last Chloe remembered, Max left that place completely emotionally and physically distraught. She watched as Max slowly picked at the scab above her eyebrow, they may need to get stitches for that cut, if Max kept picking at it. "Chloe." She sighed, "we caused that storm. It was us that did that to the town." She reasoned, worrying further at her scab. "We at least owe it to them to go back and help." Owed it to them? The girls owed the town? No fucking way.

Chloe sat up, and opened her mouth. Ready to refute, when she looked at Max. The smaller girl looked desperate, her eyes half lidded, bloodshot. Looking at her best friend like this broke her heart. As much as she couldn't stand to go back to that town, she hated seeing Max like that more.

"Fine," she sighed, voice uneven and broken. "We leave tomorrow. And no staying overnight." She laid down the rules while Max nodded. "For sure. Definitely." She leaned in and held Chloe in a tight embrace. "Thank you Chloe." She whispered into the girl's ear.