Work Text:
Shifting her weight on the board, all too aware of the difference between it and the solid ground it sits upon, Max questions why she's making herself do this. The answer is that she wants to push out of her comfort zone. She wants to bridge out, be someone better. Bolder.
Someone like Chloe and Rachel, who both like skateboarding.
She's been here enough times to see them in the zone: balanced on their boards and gliding around effortlessly, making it look so easy. Max knows it's just a matter of practice, everyone has to start somewhere, so she talked them into it. She wishes she thought of talking them into finding a helmet.
Max drops her hands to her waist to tie the arms of her hoodie more firmly around herself as she looks ahead, trying to remember the visual demonstration Chloe gave her earlier. She runs through a mental checklist as she adjusts her arms and checks she’s not leaning too far forward or back and that she’s relaxed but too much, because Chloe went on that entire tangent about too loose versus too tense—
As if she can read her mind, Rachel’s voice cuts through the cacophony of Max’s thoughts. Her tone is bright and chipper, and she sounds a lot closer than she was a few seconds ago. “Here, let me help you.”
Max turns and then jumps a little as the sight of Rachel suddenly fills her vision, a movement which doesn’t exactly do her any favours when it comes to maintaining her already atrocious balance. The board rolls back a bit as the foot she has on the ground lifts up slightly, which means she starts overbalancing forward, and then has to stop herself from falling by wheeling her arms a bit and trying to get her footing back on solid ground instead of on the board or in the air.
Somehow, she doesn’t fall. They haven’t even gotten to the skating part of things yet and she’s already messing up. She looks at Rachel properly, meeting her eyes, who’s smiling at her so sweetly that she almost forgets she’s dying of embarrassment, and her cheeks burn. “No, it’s fine, you don’t need to, this was a bad idea anyway—”
“A bad idea?” Chloe pipes up. “You’ve got Arcadia Bay’s finest right here, Mad Max! Don’t talk yourself out of things yet. We can make an unholy cross between hipster and skater chick out of you yet.”
Max tears her eyes away from Rachel to look at Chloe, who’s widely grinning at her with her own skateboard balanced across her knees. Her legs bounce to an unheard beat and Max knows, almost instinctively, that the instant something goes wrong Chloe will be up on her feet and there at her side. The encouraging words and the knowledge of how excited she is to see Max in action do wonders for quieting the self-doubt in her mind, much like Rachel’s proximity.
Rachel, meanwhile, has stepped around Max and now stands at her left hand side. Her voice is softer than before, but just as sweet. “You know we’ve got you, right? Both of us have.”
Max glances at her, summoning up her best attempt at a confident smile. “How could I forget?”
Ever the tactile person, Rachel takes the opportunity to close the distance between them, give Max a kiss on her cheek, and then place her hands on Max’s hips as she begins talking her through some adjustments to her stance. She guides Max into place with gentle nudges and lingering touches, telling her to bend her knees a little more and straighten her back and giving little approving nods, all the while making sure that the only thing Max can focus on is the feel of those soft palms brushing against her bare arms and the heady scent of jasmine perfume. Rachel’s a competent teacher, but the entire time Max struggles to pay attention to what she’s actually saying because how she’s handling Max is, unfortunately, a lot more vivid.
The essentials having been covered, and Max’s form better than how it started out, means it’s now time to put things into practice. Pushing off the ground, she begins rolling forward at a decent pace and feels invigorated by the combination of the sensation of movement, her girlfriends’ twin cries of excitement, and the fact that voice of doubt is rendered silent as a more instinctual part of her brain seems to take over.
She manages to complete a full circuit of the skate park, making sure to listen to her muscles instead of her mind as she fights to maintain her balance, all the while feeling a rush of unadulterated joy. It’s easy to see why Chloe and Rachel are always hanging out here at the skatepark. The sense of speed, sound of rushing wind and sight of everything around her blur past is intoxicating. Distantly hearing the two people she loves cheering her on is just an added bonus, a large one at that.
It's an alien feeling, being the main attraction instead of sitting in the audience. She's gotten enough pictures of Chloe and Rachel zooming around like she is now that she can see herself in her mind's eye, hoodie streaming behind her in the wind, more rigid and unrefined than either of them yet still in motion.
Then she throws her hip out a bit too far and the hoodie tied around her waist falls and finds itself between her foot and the ground. Max has enough time to hear those cheers stop dead before she topples from the board straight into a bowl. That dread-infused moment is similarly long enough for her to reach out her hands in a meagre attempt to catch herself, but with the angle she falls at all she achieves is scraping her palms to hell as she rolls with the impact.
She comes to a stop at the bottom of the bowl, lying on her side, palms and elbows and knees stinging, and a multitude of other parts of her body throbbing. Her head’s fine, at least.
Before she can take an inventory of the damage by herself, her blue-haired guardian angel appears and quickly slides down the side of the bowl to end up at her side, a hundred questions pouring from her mouth as she helps Max climb out and seat herself by the bowl.
Rachel arrives around the fourth time Chloe holds her fingers up for Max to count, thoroughly out of breath and carrying the first aid kit that’s usually stowed away in the truck. It's hard to imagine how fast she must have run to get back here with it so quickly.
Chloe gets to work taking all the necessary things out the kit while Rachel crouches at Max’s side, guilt wrote all over her face before she starts rambling about a spill she had a few years ago and how Chloe had to clean the scrapes on her hands with vodka because they didn’t have an actual first aid kit on hand. Rachel’s a captivating enough storyteller that the secondhand memory takes Max’s mind off all the pain, though she notices Rachel pale when she puts a hand to her throbbing elbow and it comes away lightly stained with blood.
While Chloe starts treating Max’s various injuries, frowning with concentration and her expression only lightening when Max meets her eyes, Rachel is restless and pacing around them, abruptly quiet and withdrawn. She avoids Max’s gaze, mainly looking at Chloe, though her eyes fall on the bleeding elbow every so often. The air is suddenly tense and Max knows that eventually something is going to give.
It gives a few minutes later, as Chloe is preparing to clean the bloodied abrasion on Max’s arm, when Chloe reaches for the first aid kit just as Rachel is passing by once again. She looks up at her with a hard expression and an edge in her voice. “Rachel, can you please stop buzzing around? I need to focus.”
“Ah.” Rachel pauses, nodding. Max notices her biting the inside of her cheek. “Right—I’ll, I’ll be over here,” she says as she begins walking away.
Chloe stares after her for a moment, jaw tensing slightly. Rachel sits herself down on the funbox next to Max’s messenger bag and Chloe’s discarded skateboard. She looks into the distance, still and silent, completely ignoring Chloe.
Letting out a sigh, Chloe empties a bottle of something that smells bitter onto a pad and pauses, hovering over Max’s wound with it. “You ready? This might sting a little.”
Max doesn’t miss the way ‘might’ comes out as ‘maight’, and notices Rachel’s head perk up at the sound as well. She opts not to mention it for now, and instead gives Chloe a nod.
“Ow, fuck, fuck!” Max hisses. Chloe was not kidding when she said it might sting.
“Sorry. The, uh, the ‘might’ part was a lie, this shit always stings.” Chloe gives her an apologetic smile. “But, I guess that’s how you know it works?”
“Mm, don’t worry, it’s fine. Just, didn’t expect it to hurt so much.” Max grits her teeth as Chloe continues to gently brush the pad along her arm. She looks toward Rachel, who herself is looking utterly dejected as she glances over at Chloe before shifting her gaze to Max.
Max gives her the best smile she can muster, trying to ignore the pulsing nova of burning pain that her elbow has become. Rachel returns a similarly pained one before mouthing ‘sorry’.
“Hey, Space Cadet, what are you looking at—” Chloe cuts herself off, the corner of her mouth twitching up to form a half-smile—“She’s doing the kicked puppy eyes, isn’t she?”
“Um, I’m not picking sides. But…” Max giggles, nodding again.
Rachel pouts at her, though Max can tell it’s not sincere. “Kicked puppy eyes? Really?”
Chloe takes out an adhesive plaster, placing it on Max’s elbow before smoothing it out with her fingers, fixing Rachel with a teasing look as she does so. “Do you resent that term or something, Rach?”
“I may be kind of a bitch sometimes, but I’m not a dog!” She scowls at Chloe, though the expression lacks any bite. “I’m a wounded lioness, licking her wounds.” The scowl drops from her face, replaced with a fond smile. “We’ve been dating for years, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my sign, babe.”
“Right, lioness because you’re a Leo.” Chloe claws the air and says a deadpan ‘meow’ that earns an embarrassed groan from Rachel.
“Meow?” Max asks, as Chloe pulls her up off the ground and they start walking over to the funbox.
Rachel chuckles. “Don’t worry. Story for another day.”
“I’ll tell you later, she’s just trying to save face,” Chloe whispers as she throws her jacket over Max’s shoulders.
“Hey!”
“Don’t worry, I got a replacement.” Chloe picks up Max’s hoodie, forgotten about in the confusion, and quickly ties it around her own waist, grinning at her all the while. “It’s not my usual digs, but I think it works.”
Max has to admit that it’s a look, the dirtied hoodie complementing her torn jeans and tank top. She wishes she had her camera with her. Rachel wolf-whistles, loudly, and the grin on Chloe’s face widens.
“Anyway, Rach, astrology shit aside… Aren’t lionesses meant to do all the hunting? We both know how you get all weird around blood, you’d suck at that.”
Rachel’s face is a mask of mock-offense as she places a hand to her chest, letting out a pained groan. “Betrayed… By my oldest and closest friend, one of my two loves. Max, please, find forgiveness in your heart and save me from this fiend!”
They always do this, pulling Max from the audience and onto the stage to stand alongside them. Asking her to pick a side or give her opinion in the playful arguments, coaxing thoughts out of her when she’s lapsed into silence, or giving her a gentle touch to ground her when she’s lost in thought.
It’s strange having that. Two people that understand you, that love you, so much that they go out of their way to make sure you’re included. She doesn’t know what she brings to the table, what it is that makes them go through the effort.
Max laughs quietly as she takes a seat next to Rachel. She rubs her sore elbow, extremely aware of how annoying that plaster’s gonna be over the next few days. “I don’t know why you’re acting like you’ve got something to be forgiven for, Rachel.” She shrugs. “We all know I’m a klutz, and it was my idea for you two to try and teach me in the first place. It’s not your fault.”
“Of course it’s my fault,” Rachel says in a quiet voice. She sighs, casting her gaze to the ground, and there’s a pause where Max isn’t sure whether she’s gonna voice what’s in her head or try and deflect. “I got up in your face and started running through everything, didn’t give you a chance to ask any questions, and then just expected you to be fine. I was the one who should’ve been making sure you didn’t fall and bust your ass like you just did.”
It’s always strange to hear Rachel have these moments of self-consciousness, Max thinks. They never sound quite right coming out of her mouth.
She nudges Rachel’s dangling foot with her own as she holds the side of Chloe’s jacket away from her. “Come cuddle.”
“Max, come on. I’m not going to—”
“You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that to make this your fault,” Max interrupts, grinning at Rachel. “There’s plenty of room in this thing.”
“Rach, seriously, have you not learned by now how hard it is to shit talk yourself around Caulfield by now?” Chloe has a fond smile on her face as she leans forward from where she sits to look at them both. “We seriously lucked out with a girlfriend who knows when to call us out on our self-doubt bullshit. Let her do her thing.”
“Fine.” Rachel plants a kiss on Chloe’s cheek as she scoots away from her to lean against Max’s shoulder. Her body is warm against the bare skin of Max’s arm, and when she inhales all she can smell is the familiar scent of Rachel’s perfume. “It is one of the many great things about her.”
Warmth spreads through Max’s chest and she feels herself blush. “Guys.”
Chloe clicks her tongue. “Max, if you even try to downplay yourself we’re gonna go through the whole list of great things about you. And, spoilers, it’s a long one.”
Max sticks her tongue out at Chloe, who ups the ante by adding two fingers when she copies the gesture, causing her blush to worsen, and Rachel decides to capitalise on things with her addition of, “If that’s what you're doing with your tongue then we need to have a serious talk, Chloe Elizabeth Price.”
Chloe and Rachel both snicker as a mortified groan escapes Max. She covers her face with her hands. “Why’d you have to say her full name? You sound like Joyce!”
“You wanna talk about sounding like Joyce?” Rachel knocks against Max’s shoulder. “When she told me to stop buzzing around while she was patching you up I felt serious déjà vu, it was exactly like every time Joyce has told me to get out the kitchen while she’s cooking!”
Chloe huffs. “Come on, you were!”
“That’s true, blue, but you did sound like your mom.”
A giggle escapes Max. “Are we not gonna talk about her accent when she said ‘this might sting a little’?”
“Oh God,” Rachel cries, “you heard that too?! I thought I was going crazy or something.”
“Oh, you turncoat!” Chloe’s hands fly to her waist and she unties the hoodie, balling it up and preparing to throw it at Max.
“Hey, hey, come on.” Rachel steps in front of her, blocking her line of fire as she points a finger at Max. “Her playing both sides evens the field! We might finally achieve harmony thanks to her.”
“Max, do not listen to her! You were my first mate all those years ago and you still are now. Pirates for life.”
“You two really overestimate me.” Max shakes her head, smiling. “I’m like a third wheel.”
Rachel and Chloe both turn to her, though Rachel is the first one to speak. “No, Max, you underestimate yourself. We’re like… A tricycle. We need that third wheel.”
Max tilts her head at the simile, while Chloe’s face scrunches up with a mixture of confusion and disdain. “Rach, I love you, but if you ever call our relationship a tricycle again I will dump your ass.”
Something clicks in Max’s head. A distant memory comes to the forefront of her mind, shaking off dust. An abandoned tricycle at the edge of the playground, a crack in the sidewalk, and a badly scraped knee. “She’s just saying that because she fell off one when she was 9!”
“She what?” A wide smile crosses Rachel’s face as she whirls around to face Chloe. “You have never mentioned that—”
Max's hoodie hits her square in the chest, Chloe having finally found a chance to lob it at her, and she giggles.
She holds it up as a matador would a cape when Chloe starts to advance on her, hands grabbing for the smoke-scented jacket she wears on her shoulders. “Nope, that’s it, give me that jacket back right now. You two are walking back to the dorms!”
Rachel intercepts again, just before she can reach Max, tripping her up before grabbing Max's hand and pulling her away at lightning-speed. It's a skilful display that leaves Chloe in the dust as they take off toward the truck. "Oh, fuck you! You're really using that one on me?!" She yells after them.
It hits her as she high-tails it toward the truck with Rachel, Chloe now on their heels and shouting colourful threats, that there's some truth to Rachel's admittedly awful metaphor. They're both laughing so much that they're already out of breath, Max is smiling so hard that it's starting to hurt, and all of it is only possible because the three of them are here together. Nobody here is just a third wheel.
They bring out the best in each other. All the kindness, the boldness, the joy. Sides of themselves they don't let anyone else see, sides that only come out because of who's around. And Max is no exception to that.