Hey guys. I've had this idea sat on my forum for ages and I've found some time to write it now. Thanks to Ally 323 for suggesting the idea. Prompt: Ally 323 - I think a funny oneshot would be if Max puts in her journal that she likes Chloe, and if course she reads it, BTW pricefield I'd otp

This won't follow the canon story. Enjoy.

Chloe's POV - Max's Room – 4:48 pm

I laze around on Max's bed with one arm dangling off the edge, staring up at the ceiling and sighing noticeably to try and get Max's attention, like I have been doing for the last half an hour. I impulsively decided to come over to see her and, as per usual, she had homework to do. She always leaves it to the last minute, letting procrastination win each and every time. I'm not any better, but it sucks to have to wait around. I am not patient at the best of times.

I sigh again, this time much louder, which has the desired effect. I hear the chair creak as Max turns around to face me with a mildly annoyed expression, "Chloe, no matter how many times you make a fuss like this, I need to finish this work off. Otherwise Mr. Jefferson will bust my ass."

Her logic goes straight over my head as I whine, "But I'm booooooooooored."

"When aren't you?" she tiredly remarks as she turns her back on me once more and mumbles, "You're like a damn puppy, always needing attention."

I take one of the pillows off of Max's bed, lobbing it at her head, "You make that sound like a bad thing."

She jumps as the pillow makes contact, rubbing the spot, but not looking up from her work once, "It is when I have to concentrate," she glances over her shoulder with a weary smile, "I'll do whatever you want in a bit, ok?"

Her attempts to pacify me work right into my hands. I almost feel sorry for Max at how easily she sets herself up for teasing, "Whatever I want, huh? Be careful what you offer, Max."

"Don't I know it," she mutters under her breath as she powers through her work. After what seems like forever, but in reality is more like ten minutes, she rolls her shoulders and cracks her fingers before standing up.

I eagerly lift my head to see if she's done, "Finished?"

Max nods as she walks over to her closet and grabs her shower supplies, "Yeah, but I just need to get a shower. Stay here and try not to cause any trouble."

I place my hands behind my head and lay back down with a smirk as I get comfortable, "I can't make any promises."

"Of course you can't," she lightly chuckles as she exits the room. I lay there for a few moments before sitting up and shuffling to the edge, glancing around at Max's hipster haven.

Max is always snooping through my shit, so I think I should get some payback.

I get up off of her bed and begin my search. I start off in her closet, scanning her basic t-shirts and generic brand jeans. There is a box of cookies sat on the shelf, which I help myself to. After snatching a cookie and carefully replacing the lid to look as inconspicuous as possible, I continue poking around in the closet. Not finding much else of interest here, I move on. I stuff the cookie in my mouth before picking up her guitar and playing a few basic chords.

Max has been showing me a few things and she's a pretty good teacher.

I glance down at the various books and pieces of paper strewn all over her floor and desk, as well as the under-watered plant sitting in the corner. I amble over to her desk, my fingers gliding over the touch pad of her laptop which causes the screen to light up. I grin when I see that she has a million different tabs open, the first being a vintage camera sight.

So like her.

The most notable tabs are her Facebook page, which I spend a sufficient amount of time browsing, and her emails, most of which are from Warren.

That guy is so in love with Max it's almost painful.

I feel a bit irritated at this for some reason and turn my attentions elsewhere to calm myself down. Moving over to the chest of drawers near her bed, I open the topmost one up and find that picture of Max and I from when we were about eleven, dressed up as pirates in our hats and eye-patches. We look so happy here, without a care in the world. It still feels a bit weird when I look at pictures of myself with long blonde hair, like I'm a completely different person.

I guess in a way, I am.

There is also a hella nerdy deck of RPG cards, as expected of Max. I close the drawer and have a look at the various art books and CDs stacked on the shelf above her Hi-Fi. Some of them are super dusty, as if they haven't been touched in months. I stride a few paces so I'm next to her bed noticing Captain, her one-eyed bear. The incident surrounding that casualty is a fondly told one in the Caulfield house, and the source of many a bad pun from both Max and myself. I have saved the most intriguing for last, her phone and her journal.

She should know to put passwords or locks on things she doesn't want me seeing… not that it would stop me trying.

I grab Max's phone, scrolling through her texts with curiosity. Most of them are actually from me. I often keep her awake with a merciless bombardment of midnight texts, whether it was because I was high and drunk, planning to meet up the next day or just… because. We don't really need much prompting and some of our convos carry on into the early hours of the morning. She always replies back, no matter how late.

Maybe she's trying to show me that she's here for me this time. That she won't abandon me again.

My lip quirks upwards at this into a fond smile as I examine the other texts. There are some from her parents checking in on her, a fair few from Kate Marsh who lives just across the hall, along with a torrent of borderline spam from Warren.

And I thought I was bad.

I set Max's phone back down on the bedside table and rub my hands together in anticipation as I reach down for her journal. I've always been so curious about what's in there, but never had the chance to get a good look. Max usually hides it or keeps it with her at all times, making it almost impossible to read.

You're almost making this too easy for me now, Max. Like you want me to read it.

I flop down on the bed and open it up. On the very first page is a short paragraph written in Max's distinctive smooth and loopy handwriting that catches my interest.

Chloe,

If you are reading this, close this journal right back up now. I know you'll try eventually and if I find out that you've gotten any further than this page, I am officially revoking our "hella best friend" status.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

It's kind of cute how she thinks that will stop me.

Neither myself nor Max could actually stay mad at each other for more than a couple of hours and we have tried, Max more than myself. We always ended up forgiving each other, no matter what we'd done. Even if we had a big fight, as soon as the initial anger had blown over, we pretty much picked up right where we left off.

Undeterred by Max's scribbled warning, I begin to flick through the pages. There are a few entries from before she came to Blackwell, most of which express her excitement to return back to Arcadia, as well as a few self-deprecating comments about not keeping in contact with me once she moved to Seattle.

I guess at least she was thinking about me, even if it took us bumping into each other to force the issue.

I skip forward to September, when she first moved into the Prescott Dorm. This was mostly just talking about her classes, roommates and the never-ending drama of Blackwell, again with some more mentions of myself.

You really wanted to arrange a meet up, didn't you? But you were scared I'd be mad and hate you. Max… I could never hate you.

I skimmed forward to that second week in October, when we'd finally hooked up again after five long years. It had been by accident actually that we'd reunited. I had been visiting Justin and the other skaters at the time. With Rachel over in LA now following her modelling dream, there had been little reason to come to Blackwell until that point. On my way back to the parking lot, I'd physically bumped into her. It'd taken a few minutes for us both to recognize one another, she understandably took longer given the blue hair, punk rocker style and tat. Once we had both figured it out, there was a very awkward few seconds. How do you talk to someone you haven't heard from in five years? Unable to avoid the issue any longer, Max had invited me back to her room and we had a long chat about everything. It took a while, but we eventually began picking up where we left off.

Now we're here, a few months on and it feels as if no time has passed.

I put these thoughts to one side and push on through Max's journal to find the juicy gossip before she gets back.

October 8th, 2013

Warren asked me to the drive in today. How did I reply you ask?

Well, I would have probably accepted… if there wasn't such a weird vibe about the invitation, something that felt a little more than friendly if you get what I mean… but maybe that's just me being egotistical?

Either way, I said no. He's a good friend and all, but I don't want to lead him on if that is what he's getting at. Besides, it's so obvious that Brooke would much prefer to go with him and I don't want to inspire her wrath any more than I already have.

Anything for a quiet life…

It's good to know she's not totally oblivious.

I contemplate what I had just read, feeling something like… relief wash over me at knowing that Max turned Warren down. It's a really weird sensation and I'm not sure how to deal with it right now.

I'll think over it a bit more after I've finished. Max should be back soon and things are just starting to get interesting.

I cycle through Max's archive of our various adventures, school drama and homework complaints, eager to find something to sink my teeth into.

December 6th, 2013

I just had an über awkward convo with Warren. If I could go back in time and avoid it forever I really would. Universe, where are my time traveling powers when I need them?

It seems that my earlier suspicions about him were correct. I guess he figured out that he needed to go for a more… direct approach to get me to discuss the issue. He kind of cornered me coming out of photography class and wasn't taking no for an answer.

So, he leads me outside to this really secluded spot, which already made me feel so damn nervous. He was acting so weird and I thought something really bad had happened. Almost the second we get there, he starts speaking at a hundred miles an hour, stumbling over his words and everything (something I can totally relate to).

I told him to take a deep breath and start over… and he did. I think I just kind of stood there for a moment not saying anything when he told me that he liked me… not just as a friend. It was so surreal… not to mention awkward.

When I finally managed to picked my jaw up off the floor, I let him down lightly, telling him that he was a kick ass friend, but that I didn't feel the same way. He took it surprisingly well. I think he already kinda knew I would reject him, but wanted to get it out of his system. You never know until you try, right?

I'm just glad that the Christmas Break is so close. I think we could both do with some time to just think over everything. I hope it doesn't ruin our friendship.

I would tell Chloe about it, but she'd probably go all ape on his ass. She can be really protective over me, not that I really mind. Especially in awkward social situations like this. So long as he doesn't push the issue, then I can just leave it there. Kate would probably be a better first port of call, she's much subtler than Chloe is. At least I have options if I need them, which hopefully I won't.

For now though, you my trusty journal are the only one who knows about this little incident, so let's keep it between us. Don't try blackmailing me. I SHALL NOT SUBMIT!

So… Warren actually worked up the balls to finally tell Max, huh? And she rejected him.

That weird feeling of relief increases significantly on reading this entry, along with something else I can't quite pinpoint. Shrugging off the feeling for now, I press on to the next entry.

December 9th, 2013

Hey again. I know I said I wouldn't give the incident the other day much more thought, but I can't help it. I've not really spoken to Warren properly since then. We both need some space, which is a bit sad really, but it can't be helped. Hopefully we'll be back to normal in no time, geeking out over nerdy stuff and just messing around.

Warren is a nice guy, smart, we get on really well, he makes me laugh and he's not bad looking either, but for some reason I just don't like him like… that. If this were some young adult film on his infamous pirate movie flash drive, it would almost be inevitable for us to hook up. The nerdy guy getting the girl and all that.

But real life doesn't work like that, right?

Just as I am about to turn over the page, I notice something at the bottom I'd missed before. It's kind of scribbled out, but I can just about make out what it says. I squint and bring the page closer to my face to get a better look at it.

I was thinking that over when it hit me. I think there is already someone I…

The sentence hangs on the page unfinished, but it's pretty obvious what comes next, or at least some of the possibilities given the context. My heart almost stops at the possibility that there is someone Max likes… maybe even loves.

I have to keep going, to find out who… I HAVE to.

Spurred on by this thought and the sudden panic in my mind, I begin scanning each page carefully yet quickly so as to find out before Max gets back and I have to stop.

January 1st, 2014

It's me again. I know it's been a while.

Another Christmas has come and gone. At least I got some awesome gifts, especially from Chloe who I met up with before I headed off back to Seattle for a kind of pre-Christmas meal (Yum, Joyce's cooking!), as well as getting more spending money from Mom and Dad (More polaroid film for Max. Yay!)

It was so awesome going over to Chloe's house when all the decorations were up. It reminded me of when William was still alive. He used to get so into Christmas, probably more than me and Chloe. He always made such a mess carving the turkey, cracked out the worst of his dad jokes and chased after me and Chloe with mistletoe around the house… and one year down the street. He was such a goofball… which is why I miss him, especially around this time of year.

I feel my heart constrict painfully at the thought of dad. Even after all this time, it still hurts to think about him. I focus back on reading to try and forget.

My parents and I stayed up to see the new year in, in fact I am writing this just before I drift off to sleep, which is going to be really soon by the looks of it. I can barely keep my eyes open. With the new year, I have the chance to be a new Max. I usually suck at new year's resolutions… make that always. But there is something that has been on my mind for a while now though I want to do.

I've been seriously thinking and I think it's time to 'fess up. Before the end of January, I have to tell her how I feel… even if it messes everything up. That's what has been stopping me ever since I worked it out. I am such a coward.

I pause, my eyes focusing on these last few lines.

Her? This has to be what I'm looking for. Come on, Max. Tell me who.

I eagerly read on, desperate to find out who it is Max is talking about.

Am I weird for liking her? Well, weirder anyway. Even thinking about tell her is making me feel strange. I have to do it though, otherwise I'm lying to her and myself. I don't want to do that… not anymore.

As scary as it is, I have to bite the bullet and just go for it. If Warren could do it, then so can I. Maybe… No Max Caulfield, you are not chickening out. Not this time.

I sigh deeply, irritated at the secrecy. I want to know names and Max isn't giving me anything yet, other than her crush being a girl, which makes me feel almost hopeful. I guess I would be lying if I said I didn't like Max, in more ways than one. I'd kind of been getting over my mostly one-sided crush on Rachel the past couple of months and I had a lot of weird conflicting feelings for Max. We'd been through so much at such a young age and left a lot of things unresolved when she moved.

I figured that if I ignored them, they'd eventually go away… but it didn't work like that.

Now very conscious of my time limit, I scan quickly over the next few entries to find the important parts.

February 3rd, 2014

So… you know I said I'd tell her by the end of January? Well, that didn't work out.

I've been agonizing over the right words, practicing them in front of the mirror for days on end. When I finally feel confident enough to say something, as soon as I get in the situation I either freeze up or miss my opportunity.

It's pathetic really. I wish there was an easier way, but I can't think of one. I just have to grow a pair and tell her and soon.

NO EXCUSES!

Now in auto-pilot mode, I flip over to the next page to hopefully find the answer to all my questions. I hold my breath as I read on.

February 8th, 2014

Well, I am officially the most cowardly person in Arcadia Bay, maybe even the whole of America. WHY CAN'T I JUST SAY IT!?

Oh yeah, maybe because I don't want to ruin our friendship. Maybe because I know she probably likes someone else. Maybe because I was a total asshole and ignored her for five years…

Maybe I'm terrified she'll reject me. I can't go on knowing that she hates me.

I've tried so hard to ignore everything, but it just hasn't worked. I wish I didn't feel this way.

I'm so sorry, Chloe...

This is the last entry Max has written, almost two weeks ago. My mind just can't process this. I read over it again and again and again, each time making less sense than the last.

Max… likes me?

Thinking back, there had been times when Max had looked as if she was going to say something, but she either voted against it or something interfered. I didn't want to force her into it, so took a step back and waited for her to be ready to tell me.

This… must have been what she wanted to say all that time. Oh, Max…

It is then that I hear shuffling outside the door, which can only mean that my time is up. I slam Max's journal shut and all but throw it onto the bedside table in my panic. I run my now shaking fingers through my faded blue hair, gathering my thoughts and wondering how the hell to approach this.

What the hell am I supposed to do now? How do I act around her? Do I mention it? Can I keep it a secret?

Just as all these questions flood my brain, the door opens and Max steps inside, beaming when she sees me, "Hey, sorry I took so long. I bumped into Kate on the way back and we had a really long chat. I thought you could amuse yours-" she must have noticed the undoubtedly strange look on my face, because she abruptly stops talking and her brow furrows worriedly, "Chloe… what's wrong?"

I sit there, wringing my hands nervously as my heart racing and my stomach feeling weird. As the internal debate on whether or not to tell her about this rages on in my mind, I feel the bed dip and a hand placed on my shoulder. I look up to meet Max's soft, blue doe-like eyes. I can see it now, see the things she's trying to hide when she looks at me. The flicker of longing and uncertainty hidden deep down, only visible if you really take the time to search for it. I swallow hard and begin twirling the ring on my finger, hoping that I can find the right words to say.

I don't want to lose Max. No way.

"Chloe… answer me. You look like you've seen a ghost or something," she mentions as she gently begins to rub my arm, something I am very aware of right now considering what I just learned. I can feel my cheeks heating up ever so slightly as the words I want to say to her get stuck in my throat, refusing to leave my mouth. Max's expression gets more concerned with each passing second, "Hey, you can tell me anything, you know that," she softly reassures me.

I know that, Max. I know… it's still terrifying though.

I bite my lip as my eyes roam over her pale freckled face all the way down to her lips and…

"Max…" I hesitantly whisper. She sits there patiently waiting for me to continue, which simultaneously makes this easier and harder in many ways. She's so used to having trouble finding the words that she is very sympathetic in these kinds of situations. I feel my hands shake as I swallow down my fears and mumble, "What would you do if… if I dared you to… kiss me? Right here, right now."

Her eyes widen considerably and her bottom lip beginning to quiver at my question, "I… you… it…" she sits there with her mouth hanging open, just staring at me with such confliction, as if she is walking over an active minefield, not knowing where to place her foot to prevent everything blowing up in her face. She bites her lip hard, her eyes filled with a controlled desire to let everything she's been feeling go right now.

"Ok, let's reword that," I shakily exhale as I tentatively reach out and brush my fingertips against her hand. When she doesn't move, I take her hand in mine and gaze deeply into those eyes I have come to know so well, "I… dare you to kiss me."

She sits there stunned for a few seconds, just staring at me in shock and disbelief. I'm actually pretty surprised myself. At first, I wasn't going to say anything about it, but then I realized that it would be stupid to let Max suffer in silence any longer… and myself too. This way, if things went wrong it would be fine, because it was a dare and if it went right… well then that would work too. Even knowing what Max wrote doesn't really make this much easier, but it's now or never. Sometimes, you just had to take the risk to get what you want.

I start to wonder if maybe she wrote it in as a joke just in case I tried to read her journal, but then I feel something brush against my lips for a brief second. Before I really have a chance to register it, the sensation has gone. I stare at Max, who's cheeks are now a light pink color and she refuses to look at me directly, although she keeps glancing over at me, presumably to gauge my reaction. I feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest right now, a surge of emotions hitting me. They cycle through, elation, panic, worry, fear… all too quickly for me to really sort out how I feel about all this.

All I know right now for certain is that I… want to kiss her again.

I take a deep breath before tentatively prompting, "Max, I said I dare you to kiss me. If you consider that a kiss, then you really need to re-evaluate your definition of it."

Max seems completely taken aback by this, obviously not expecting things to go beyond what she just did. When she just sits there, I impulsively lean in and capture her lips, moving mine against hers. She tenses at the contact, not knowing where to put her hands or what to do, but soon she is… kissing me back. Her lips are kind of chapped, but I couldn't care less right now. I can tell she is nervous, as am I, but she doesn't pull away and neither do I. I feel one of her hands being placed on mine, our fingers intertwining as her other lightly rests on my cheek. Every single touch sends shivers down my spine and brings with it a new surge of jumbled up feelings I can't even begin to make sense of now, so I don't. Instead I just enjoy the moment, commit it to memory and completely resign myself to her.

It's strange really. I think Max is actually my first love, I just didn't know it at the time and too much stuff happened with dad and her moving away to Seattle. It wasn't until Rachel came along that I even began to consider the option and by that point, it was too late… or so I thought. Deep down, I knew for a while but just tried to ignore it so I'd never have to deal with it again. Of course, that didn't work when Max suddenly appeared in my life again, as is evident now.

I don't want to push or rush this, so I keep the kiss tender and slow so as to not freak Max out. It sounds like she didn't even realize until recently that she might be into girls. It's a pretty big thing to admit to yourself given all the assholes out there, and even more to admit it to anyone else. You just didn't know how people would react and even when you were certain someone would be cool with it, as they should be because it was really none of their business, it could still be nerve-wracking. For someone like Max, who literally over-thought every single detail, it would be so much harder.

I can't even begin to really imagine all those trains of thought that would have been eating away at her, all the doubts…

I gently pull back, feeling giddy as I open my eyes again to see the familiar face of my childhood best friend just inches from me, but some things are different now. That look in her eyes is much more intense, as if she's peering into the deep dark depths of my soul, but it's not unnerving. Her lips are parted a little more than usual and her cheeks carry a definite flush to them. We sit there for a while, letting things sink in. After a few seconds, I feel a smile tug at my lips, soon followed by Max's own stock dorky grin.

"That's better," I teasingly comment as I rest my forehead against hers.

"Glad to hear it," she whispers just loud enough for me to hear.

I offer her a smug smirk as I gently play with her hand, "Oh yeah, I hope you don't mind but… I kind of read your journal."

Well, that was fun to write. There is never enough Pricefield. Have a great day guys, take care and I hope to see you in another story.