Mommy Chloe and Baby Max

It was late afternoon at the Price house. The golden hour hit the windows, bathing the room in a warm glow that set the scene perfectly.

Childhood friends Maxine Caulfield and Chloe Price were spending time together like they have been for months, but for half that time, they would spend Friday nights together like the sleepovers of heir youth. While they would spend their nights like typical girls reaching womanhood, Fridays became a special night.

Max and Chloe were sharing Chloe's bed. Chloe forgone the usual rock music in-favor the silence of the afternoon. Her mom was working overtime at the diner and step-douche was out too, leaving the two of them alone together.

Max let herself go limp in her friend's arms, relaxing in Chloe's embrace as she mindlessly suckled in her friend's nipple. With her free hand, Chloe reached over and cupped Max's underwear. Unobstructed by her jeans, Max's underwear was free for view, the white of its thick padding now swollen with yellow.

"It looks like this baby girl has had a little too much to drink."

Max fought her instincts to cover herself (her face, her underwear, her entire body) in shame and she tried to fold her legs, made difficult by her thick undies. Chloe wasn't producing any milk obviously. She was a woman in her late teens and out of all of the many irresponsible things she's ever done, getting knocked up wasn't one of them. She has no intention of having kids, especially when she was perfectly content with taking care of one baby girl in particular.

Seeing her childhood sister from another mother after years of silence was certainly a surprise, it came at the most unusual times.

Chloe was threatening to out Nathan for his **** pedaling, only to receive a bullet in her stomach for the trouble. She was certain she was going to die when she woke up in the hospital. While the bullet missed anything that would have caused her massive problems, Max was able to keep her from bleeding out before her step-dad cuffed Nathan and the ambulance came to take her away. After weeks of check-ups, physical therapy and a new prescription of over-the-counter painkillers, Chloe was good and ready to see the world.

Tracking Max down at the school was not difficult, but even as someone as self-centered as Chloe could tell that Max was not okay. She seemed to be in a perpetual funk, wandering the halls and going about her day as though she was the one with a brush with ****. It took Max two weeks before she broke down crying in her arms, saying how she has been struggling to sleep and even started wetting the bed. She didn't feel comfortable telling her why, but seeing her friend like this made want to take a gun and hunt down whoever or whatever did this to the person that saved her life.

One thing led to another, and they began to role-play. Max played the role of the baby to escape to a more innocent time where she didn't have to face her depression. Chloe played the role of her mom. It gave her a reason to care. Made her feel responsible.

Chloe never really found out what made Max so in-shock, but she at least figured out how to help bring her out of her shell.