— 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 —

𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 different about the atmosphere today; perhaps it was all of the combined teenage estrogen and testosterone that molded together and gave off an odd feeling — or maybe it was even the smell of the lunch from the cafeteria. But whatever it was, Chloe didn't like it. Another thing she wasn't overly fond of was the fact that Max still hadn't left the comfort of her side since their encounter just outside of his home. She assumed it was because of just that, the simple fact that he had entered the school only moments ago and had no idea what to do or who to converse with. Considering the amount of students that crowded the hallways, he could've even been deciding who his first acquaintance would be. But after the slow and painful wait of another full minute, the blonde girl realized that the boy was staring at her expectantly, his eyes questioning her sudden, and quite abrupt, stop. She only blinked in return, confused by his motives in the midst of the chaotic situation that continued to play out around them.

"Shouldn't you go to the front office?" Chloe begins, waving a hand to her right in an attempt to usher him away. "I'm sure the lady at the information desk will give you a schedule with your classes, and a map if you're fortunate enough."

"I already have my schedule," he replies swiftly, pulling a heavily folded piece of paper from his jean pocket. "I was hoping you'd show me to my classes, actually. I'd rather not choose a random person from this mess and have to cross my fingers with the hope that they won't mismanage me."

Chloe could agree with him — the likeliness of their peers being genuinely nice was a quite low statistic, but from the lovestruck eyes of the girls around them, she could have carelessly tossed her statistics out the window and drove over them with her car. "Max, I know I've only known you for the short span of ten whole minutes, but I'm almost completely positive that any girl on this campus — with the exception of me, of course — would gladly show you around every day for the remainder of your time in high school."

Max immediately caught her insinuation, a sly grin forming on his lips, "So you're admitting that I'm attractive?"

"I'm admitting that I'm legally blind," Chloe says without hesitance, "therefore, I can't see you and I have no idea if you're attractive or not. But from the egotistical way that you speak, one can only assume that there's a fraction of a possibility that you're somewhat good looking compared to most of the boys in Bridgewood attendance."

She could hardly breathe through her sentence, but she somehow managed to make a precise point. From the way that she spoke so confidently, one would never think that she actually thought Maxen was quite charming — but not in a way that she would ever consider falling for him. Although he hadn't proven to be conceited or self-absorbed in the short time that she had known him, Chloe simply understood that he was all too different than her, in many more instances than just one.

"Please," Max puckers his bottom lip while begging, before gesturing to the students around him. "Does it look like I want to have a meaningless conversation with any of these people because they feel obligated to welcome the new student? Absolutely not."

Staring at the boy with slightly narrowed eyes, Chloe gives into his pleads and nods. "Alright, you've convinced me." The girl takes the paper from his hands and glances over it, pointing at each of the classes they share. "For the most part, our schedules are fairly similar, we have four classes together."

"I have no objections to that," he grins as he nudges her shoulder. "You should be honored, you're my first real friend."

Raising her eyebrows, Chloe corrects him, "I'm your neighbor, this is more like an unspoken responsibility."

"I think we should make a blood pact, this type of thing is a commitment," Max jokes, his eyes alight with levity. "You know, include the backyard ritual to symbolize our undying friendship."

Chloe rolls her eyes, "Your antics have yet to amuse me. But we should get going, classes start in five minutes — luckily for you, we have first period together."

Despite the prying eyes of those surrounding the two, Chloe and Maxen easily weave their way into the main hallway. Once nearing their designated classroom, the girl slows her pace, and glances to her neighbor as he begins speaking. "Chloe, do you have friends?"

Taken aback by his question, she chuckles in the slightest and tugs at the straps of her backpack. "Of course I do, but the majority of them consist of ones I'm familiar with — I grew up with most of these people, so I associate with them, regardless of other circumstances. My best friend isn't here today, unfortunately."

"Who might that be?"

"Maya," Chloe replies, leading Maxen into the chemistry classroom. "She can be quite the unapprehensive handful, but a graceful and considerate one. I guess you could say we're two halves of a whole person, and it would be accurate."

"So she's crazy and you aren't?" Max raises an eyebrow, watching Chloe as she takes a seat at a lab table near the front of the small room.

Glaring as she places her backpack on the wooden surface, Chloe sighs. "No. Maya isn't crazy, she's just . . . adventurous. She encourages me to venture from my comfort zone, and I am her motivation for self-preservation and management. Otherwise, the two of us would be caught in the middle of some drug exchange with a cartel affiliated with Maya's gang-leader cousin. She prefers to be daring, and sometimes that's what I need."

Max takes the seat next to her, throwing his backpack to the floor and relaxing into the chair without a second thought. "Maya seems like quite the troublemaker, I'd like to meet her."

"She's all the trouble I need," Chloe points a finger at the boy, "so don't get any bright ideas."

As the bell finally rings, students begin to file in and take their assigned seats — so when a boy with thick glasses and a plaid flannel expectantly makes his way over to Maxen with the motives to obtain his lab partner, he crosses his arms over his chest and taps his foot against the linoleum flooring with impatience.

"Do you need something?" Maxen glances up at him, lifting a brow in question.

"My partner," he established in retaliation. "Chloe and I have a project due next week, and I refuse to relinquish my grade simply because a new student pleases to replace me. So I am here to respectfully request that you renounce your position and allow me to take over."

Maxen's attention averts to Chloe, as if to encourage her to defend him. And yet the girl only covered her mouth, stifling giggles and pretending to be preoccupied by the newfound textbook in her lap. Her chemistry partner, contrary to Maxen's accusing glare, seemed gracious that Chloe had chose not to defend him, and smirked with success.

"Chloe, come on," Max sighs, taking her free hand between his. "Please allow me the pleasure of being your lab partner, I'm sure there is no one else in here that will accept me for who I am—"

"There's an empty table in the back," Chloe assures Max, laughing softly as she removes her hand from his grasp. "Brooks is assigned to that table, but he rarely attends — perhaps you'll get lucky and he will make an appearance today."

With a deep sigh of disappointment and absolute reluctance, Maxen moves to his feet, and unwillingly watches as the boy in the flannel takes his previous seat. Chloe would have continued laughing if she hadn't been overwhelmed with sudden thoughts; although she was unsure of what she had felt, she knew she had felt something when Max had taken her hand into his own. Or maybe she was allowing her imagination to get the best of her.

The remainder of the classroom was full, with the exception of the empty seat next to Maxen. He was thankful to find that he didn't have to introduce himself, seeing as the instructor for the day was merely a substitute for the original, and had little to no idea how to teach chemistry. And so he, along with the rest of his new peers, were faced with reading the entirety of a textbook chapter.

"Joseph, I sincerely apologize for the actions of my new neighbor," Chloe says quietly to her partner, lightly tapping her pencil against the desk.

"That was your neighbor?" He questions in return, recoiling. "I'm almost certain he's an advocate for narcissism merely by his stance, I should be the one apologizing to you for having to uphold such composure whilst sitting next to him."

Chloe tilts her head, turning in her chair to check on Maxen — only to find his head gently placed on the textbook, his eyes closed and his expression soft with the suggestion of slumber. "Max isn't as he seems, actually."

"If he's a kind soul, I'm not a certified genius," Joseph challenges her, adjusting his glasses with a grin of achievement.

Chloe's eyes easily fall upon the movement in the open classroom doorway, and she finds herself disregarding her partner's boasting. Instead, the girl could only focus on the very thing she assumed would never make an appearance again — or, more specifically, someone. Brooks West was broadly known in Brookside, but not for any grand gestures to the community, or even assistance towards those who needed it most. Instead, he could have been portrayed as a villain in any fairytale; with a heart that no one dared to seek, a leather jacket draped across his broad shoulders, and a sleek motorcycle that could never quite go out of style, Brooks was considered the local heartbreaker to any of those who attempted the nearly impossible task of knowing him. The boy constantly held a glare of pure ice, and occasionally smirked when his best friend managed a joke that appealed to him — but never in her thirteen years of being his peer had Chloe witnessed Brooks genuinely smile. The attempt was intractable due to Brooks' recalcitrant and intolerable attitude towards anyone except for the renowned home-wrecker himself: Tate Bennett.

As Brooks carelessly made his way to the back of the room, his interest was unfalteringly placed upon Maxen — who was completely oblivious to his surroundings and the harsh gaze of the notorious bad boy of Brookside.

"It was great knowing him." Joseph murmurs under his breath, forcing back a laugh for the sake of Chloe's sanity. From the dumbstruck expression that laced her facial features, one could undoubtedly tell that she was worried for her new friend.

"You're in my seat," Brooks speaks clearly, his voice deep as he runs his fingers through his disheveled, charcoal hair.

Nearly every student in the classroom turned in their seats abruptly, determined to watch the response of the new boy; perhaps they would get into an argument which would undeniably end with a fight. Brooks had the reputation for such a thing, and it was practically expected of him to confront someone over the smallest of inconveniences. On many occasions he had broken the nose of many, solely for the adrenaline it offered him.

Maxen sits up in his seat, blinking rapidly to conform with the sudden fluorescence offered from the overhead lights. But instead of encouraging an altercation, he merely pulled out the chair next to him, and lightly patted it. "Here, sit next to me."

But, to the surprise of every individual in the room (including the substitute who had placed his glasses on his nose to observe), Brooks didn't forcefully grip Maxen's collar and yank him onto his feet with the intentions of escorting him to the football field.

Brooks West merely shrugged, and settled into the seat Maxen had offered him.

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❝ omg i updated!! let me know
what you all think of this chapter :)
what character is your favorite so far? ❞