Work Text:
‘No regrets’ may, in fact, be the most regrettable phrase that Victoria Chase has ever uttered.
This realization dawns on her the moment she finally wakes up with a splitting hangover at one in the afternoon to find she has twenty unread text messages. Most of them are from her friends, including: a handful of singularly unflattering photos and videos from Nathan documenting their partying escapades (she’d delete them, but she knows they’re already undoubtedly on his insta, so why bother), several texts from Courtney pretending to be concerned while in fact not-too-subtly mocking her for - in Courtney’s words - “YOLOing too hard,” and half a dozen actually concerned texts from Taylor.
None of those messages surprise or particularly faze her. No, the one message that has her regretting her every life decision - and especially her decisions of the previous night - is the one message from someone who is very much not in her circle of friends.
Chloe Price: hey
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Is it a, “Hey, thanks for blowing my mind last night?” A, “Hey, you wanna do that again?” Maybe it’s a, “Hey, this was the hugest mistake I’ve made in a life full of huge mistakes and we should probably talk about it before this whole thing blows up in our faces.”
The longer Victoria stares at the monosyllabic text, the more she suspects that “hey” might be the most infuriatingly ambiguous word in the entire English language.
This was supposed to be a one-night stand. Why on earth did Victoria give the girl her number??
Except that, right, of course: the girl already had her number. What a rookie mistake. Victoria knows better than most that the first rule of one-night stands is do not sleep with people you actually know. And especially don’t sleep with people who’re besties with your worst frenemy (99% certain Chloe’s actually banging Rachel, too; so that’s fun).
And wait, when the fuck did Victoria correct Chloe’s name in her phone? It must've been in some weird sort of post-coital daze last night, because she’s definitely been in her contacts as Kari Prince since 10th grade just for the sheer spite of it.
Victoria’s thumb hovers over the “edit” button. Before she can make up her mind whether or not it’s worth the effort of changing her name back, a new message pops up.
Chloe Price: didnt anyone ever tell you its rude to leave ppl on read?
Fuck.
No sense of her place in the social hierarchy, that’s always been Chloe’s problem. No sense, period. Victoria starts to type Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you’re not supposed to text someone after having a one-night stand with them; that’s the whole point of a one-night stand. She deletes the message unsent. She must be getting soft. Thank god she’ll be graduating in a month and never have to see any of these people ever again. College will be a clean slate with a whole new reputation for her to meticulously uphold.
Chloe Price: you know it shows me when youre typing, right?
Chloe Price: those three little dots show up
Chloe Price: and then they go away
Chloe Price: so are you just staring at your phone now or what?
Chloe Price: thinkin about how hot i am...
Victoria groans. Her head hurts way too much to be dealing with this level of impudence.
Bite me, Kari.
Chloe Price: she speaks!!!!!
Chloe Price: also: already did that
Chloe Price: im sure you remember
Chloe Price: if you forgot try checking your neck in the mirror
Chloe Price: also your thigh
Chloe Price: also your other thigh
Those accursed three dots don’t go away, so Victoria starts hammering out a response to distract Chloe from cataloguing her body parts.
Just because you have unlimited texting doesn’t mean you have to use it, Kari.
Chloe Price: cute.
Chloe Price: in a bitchy sort of way i mean
Chloe Price: you know i know you know my name right?
Chloe Price: you sure as fuq knew it last night anyway
Chloe Price: pretty sure every1 else at the party knows it now too
Chloe Price: and probably every house on the block
Oh, dear god.
Seriously, quit spamming my phone. You don’t need to send a separate text for every sentence. It’s too early for this shit.
Chloe Price: its 130
Chloe Price: you hungover, princess?
Chloe Price: ive got a cure for that
If you tell me the cure is in your pants, I’m deleting your number. And then I’m deleting you. From the PLANET.
Chloe Price: ooh im shaking
Chloe Price: but no
Chloe Price: i meant more like a greasy 2 whales burger
Chloe Price: lots of greasy 2 whales fries
Chloe Price: some powerade
Chloe Price: and a couple aspirin
Chloe Price: maybe a head rub if youre good
Chloe Price: which for you means probably no head rub
Victoria’s stomach growls. That all sounds amazing except for the part that necessitates her leaving her darkened room and comfortable bed to obtain it. She wonders if any of her actual friends are conscious enough after last night’s partying to make a Two Whales run for her. She’s halfway through a text to Taylor when another message comes through from Chloe.
Chloe Price: so?
Chloe Price: you want me to bring you the hangover special or what?
Chloe Price: im already planning a run for rach
Chloe Price: no skin off my ass to swing by your dorm too
Victoria’s heart cycles through a variety of unpleasant sensations before she finally swallows them down and sends a simple Yes.
Chloe Price: cool
Chloe Price: see you in 30
Chloe Price: maybe 40, i gotta give rach hers 1st or ill never hear the end of it
Victoria flings her phone across the room and buries her head under the quilt. The second rule of one-night stands is do not make plans with them the next day. What the hell has gotten into her? It must be her hangover making it impossible for her to think clearly. It certainly can’t be Chloe’s charm, because she hasn’t any.
She remains safely ensconced in her fortress of pillowtude until she hears a knock on her door about fifteen minutes later. “That was quick,” she mutters to herself. She starts the laborious process of hauling her hungover ass out of bed when she hears the unmistakable sound of her door being unlocked. “That presumptuous bitch!” she hisses to herself. She raises her voice and shouts toward the door, “I know you’re a delinquent and all, but seriously, picking locks isn’t the fastest way to a girl’s heart!” She swallows the rest of the sarcastic diatribe perched on the tip of her tongue along with a heavy dose of her dignity when the door swings open to reveal a very amused Taylor.
Shit. Of course. She still hasn’t answered any of Taylor’s texts, and the girl worries. And has the spare key to Victoria’s room. Victoria should probably say something nice, or at least something coherent. Instead she groans and flops back down onto her bed, crushing her eyes shut.
“So,” Taylor says with casual smugness as she closes the door behind her, “Are you expecting a delinquent to break into your room? Should I hide your valuables? Barricade the door?”
“No,” Victoria grumbles. “...Leave it unlocked.”
“Hmm, I see…” Victoria feels Taylor sit down on the edge of her bed and strike a knowing pose. “This delinquent you’re expecting… Anyone I know?”
Victoria mutters something incoherent and slings a dramatic arm across her eyes. She can feel the dregs of last night’s makeup smearing on her forearm. Christ, did she not even wash her face when she got home? She’s going to get such horrible acne.
Taylor presses on. “Someone with blue hair, maybe? And tattoos? Swears a lot? Smells like cigarettes?”
“Mrfmghm.”
“What’s that?”
Victoria sighs in resignation. “Maybe.” She removes the arm from her eyes and looks at Taylor, green eyes narrowing into a pointed glare when she sees the look of childish glee on Taylor’s face. “Taylor. Don’t.”
“Squeeeeee!!” Taylor buries Victoria in an embrace. The smell of her perfume and cheer makes Victoria’s head throb. “Oh my goddddd!! Tori’s got a girlfriend!”
Victoria’s stomach doesn’t just drop: it tunnels into the deepest recesses of the earth. “Chloe Price is not my girlfriend,” she corrects her. “She is a one-night stand who obviously does not understand the acceptable boundaries for one-night stands.”
Taylor pulls back and studies Victoria’s face with a sly look. “You’re blushing.”
“The hell I am! Y-you’re delusional!” The grin refuses to leave Taylor’s face, so Victoria burrows back into her cave of blankets and pillows so that at least she doesn’t have to see it.
Taylor gently pats the grumpy lump in Victoria’s bed. “Well, at any rate, I came to see how your hangover’s doing. You were really putting it away last night and I definitely did not see you drinking enough water.”
“What’re you, my mother?” Victoria grunts. “Oh, wait, my mother wouldn’t give a shit; nevermind.” There’s an awkward silence, and Victoria mentally kicks herself. Her own relationship with her parents might be garbage, but Taylor and her mom actually get along, and even though her mom’s been doing a lot better since her surgery it’s still kind of a sensitive subject. She’s not sure if she should apologize or not; it’s not like she was talking shit about Taylor’s mom or anything. She still sort of feels like a dick, though, so she’s about to mumble out a “sorry” when Taylor starts talking again, her voice only slightly strained.
“Anyway, I thought I should check on you. See if you wanted anything. Tylenol, water, someone to hold your hair back while you puke, whatever.”
Victoria scoffs out a laugh. “‘Hold my hair back?’ I’ve got a fucking pixie cut, Sweet-T.”
“And someone else to hold it back for you, apparently,” Taylor replies with a smirk. “I guess I can retire now.”
“You know, I wasn’t going to be sick before, but if you keep talking about Chloe like she’s my girlfriend I just might.”
“That’s another thing. She’s ‘Chloe’ now, is she? Not Kari?”
“Ugh.”
“Not Carly? Not Cara?”
“UGH! Stahp.”
“Okay. Okay.” Taylor puts her palms up defensively. “Not your girlfriend. I get it.”
“Thank you.”
“Just a girl you maybe don’t hate so much anymore?”
“.....................Maybe.”
“Just a girl with really cool tattoos and a belly button piercing, who totally kinda looks like those anime chicks you’re so into, and who’s apparently really good in bed?”
Victoria scowls at her. “Who’s also fucking my rival; don’t forget that part. God, if you’re so into her, why don’t you go out with her?”
Taylor laughs. “Because you’d murder me in my sleep, that’s why not. I know better than to stand in your way. And really? Are you and Rachel still doing that whole ‘mortal enemies’ thing? Because I thought you two were making amends. Didn’t you make this whole speech months ago about how high school was almost over and you wanted to drop all the petty, bullshit high school drama and focus on the future?”
“Ungh. Yeah. I did. But could you not remind me of my mature decisions while I’m still wallowing in the consequences of the very bad decisions I made last night?” Victoria smacks her lips. “Guh. Seriously, it tastes like something died in my mouth. Probably my standards.”
“Hm, what was it you said last night when we were getting ready?” Taylor taps her finger on her chin, pretending to think. “Something about the way you wanted to spend the rest of your time here at Blackwell?”
“‘No regrets,’” Victoria answers through gritted teeth.
“Ah, yes, that’s right. ‘No regrets.’ You wanted to live life to the fullest and not regret a second of it.” Taylor grins down at her. “And are you having some regrets now?”
Victoria sinks into her mattress. Chloe texts like a five-year-old who just drank a Red Bull. She’s an enthusiastic dancer, but she’s not a particularly good one. She’s going to smoke her way into an iron lung before she hits forty with those gross, cheap cigarettes. She’s got absolutely no manners. She’s a dropout, for fuck’s sakes; she’s got zero prospects. Victoria’s parents would have a fit if she ever brought Chloe home - which is honestly probably her biggest selling point.
That, and her laugh. She’s got an amazing laugh. And her eyes are so fucking blue. Siberian huskies wish they had eyes that blue. Plus she can not only take Victoria’s snark but match it with her own, something even Victoria’s closest friends often struggle to do. And, yeah, the tattoos and hair and that whole Look are really working for her.
Victoria can hear her obnoxious voice from three doors down, muffled by the walls but still louder than anyone who’s not technically supposed to be on campus should be talking. She’s no doubt dropping off Rachel’s hangover goodies and probably getting a worse grilling from Rachel than Victoria is from Taylor. Victoria feels an odd pang of something in her chest and realizes with some surprise that it’s jealousy. She looks over at Taylor and sees her expectant look.
“...Not really…” she admits grudgingly. And it’s true. Okay, yes, she regrets drinking enough that she’s saddled with this hideous hangover, but she doesn’t regret Chloe.
Especially not when Chloe comes barging into her dorm room - with that ridiculous swagger of hers and not a hint of common courtesy - carrying a massive Two Whales doggy bag visibly dripping with grease in one hand and a comically oversized neon yellow sports drink in the other. Her confident grin doesn’t falter in the slightest at the sight of Taylor’s amused face or the glower that Victoria slaps onto her own. “Ladies,” she says by way of greeting.
“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of hydrating?” Chloe tosses the sports drink onto Victoria’s bed.
Taylor gets up and heads for the door. “Well, Tori, looks like you’ve got everything you need. I’ll just… leave you to it.” She gives Chloe a friendly wave and waggles her eyebrows at Victoria on her way out the door.
“Huh. Since when does Taylor not hate my guts?”
Victoria exaggerates her scowl. “Since she convinced herself that you’re my girlfriend.”
Chloe barks out a stunned laugh, nearly dropping the doggy bag in surprise. “She what?”
Victoria hauls herself into a sitting position. “If you spill diner food on my carpet, I will send you the cleaning bill to get the grease stains out.” She holds her hands out for the food. “Just… bring it here. And be careful.”
Chloe grins as she approaches the bed. “I mean, sure, go right ahead. But I’m telling you right now, you’re never seeing a dime.” She deposits the bag into Victoria’s outstretched hands. Her cocksure stance tenses slightly. “It cool if I…?” She gestures to the bed.
Victoria arches an eyebrow. Her mouth is already stuffed full of fries. It’s kind of cute, Chloe acting uncertain about whether she’s allowed to sit on Victoria’s bed, especially given how much less intimate that is than… virtually everything they did last night. Although that, at least, occurred in the relative anonymity of Zach’s parents’ house rather than a bed that either of them actually sleeps in. She nods her consent, and Chloe perches cautiously on the edge of the mattress.
“Soooo… She thinks I’m your girlfriend, huh?”
Victoria rolls her eyes. “Please. Can we not talk about that while I’m eating?”
Chloe chuckles, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “Hey, I’m just as put off by the idea as you are… Heh, funny thing, though. Rach kinda asked me about that, too. Like, if you and I are gonna be a thing.”
The fries go down like lead at the mention of Rachel’s name. “Oh?” she asks coldly.
“Yeah, I mean. I laughed it off; don’t worry.”
“Good.”
“Yeah. ‘Cause that’d be crazy, right?”
“Completely insane.”
“Like… hella fuckin’ weird.”
“I hate that word, but yes.”
“I mean, you’re the queen bitch of Blackwell.”
“And you literally hang out in a junkyard.”
“You hate my best friend.”
“I really, really do.”
“And I think your friends are a bunch of entitled douchebags.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“I think you’re an entitled douchebag.”
“That also doesn’t surprise me.”
“So…” Chloe fiddles with her fingers. It’s bizarre, seeing her look nervous. It’s not an expression that belongs in her repertoire. Victoria is overcome with the strange and nauseating desire to give her a hug. She buries that urge under a handful of french fries. “So why do I kinda wanna kiss your face off?”
Victoria chokes. Chloe - eyes wide with alarm - slaps her on the back to try to stop the coughing. “Jesus; enough!” Victoria swats at Chloe’s hands to make her quit pounding on her back. “I’ve already got a headache; I don’t need whiplash on top of it. Christ, you’re a menace.”
Chloe laughs. “Are you this rude to everyone who tries to help you? God, you are such a nasty piece of work.”
Victoria scowls at her. She can feel herself blushing and resents it deeply. The upside of forgetting to wash off her makeup is that there might be enough foundation left to hide her blush from Chloe. She probably looks like a complete disaster, though. “And yet you want to kiss my face off. Apparently.”
Chloe offers her an awkward smile, practically a grimace. “I’m guessing you’re not feeling it, then?”
Victoria’s blush deepens. “I wouldn’t say that,” she mumbles.
Chloe’s smile brightens. “What would you say, then?”
“I would say…” Victoria sighs in resignation. “I would say thank you. For the food. And… yeah. That’s surprisingly sweet. Which is not a word I ever would have associated with you previously. So. It’s nice. To see another side of you. And...” She takes a deep breath to brace herself for the ill-advised words she can feel sitting on the tip of her tongue, waiting to jump out of her mouth. “I would also say… maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing. You know. To see this side of you again.”
When Victoria takes a chance on looking at Chloe, she sees that her eyebrows are practically to her hairline in surprise. “...Really?”
“Really.”
Chloe picks at her fingernails. Her nail polish is so chipped; it’s an abomination. “Uh. So. Maybe tomorrow night?”
“...What?”
Chloe shrugs with feigned nonchalance. “Y’know. I’m assuming you’re gonna be feeling like ass all day today, so you probably won’t be up for hanging out tonight. So, tomorrow night? We could… I dunno. Hang out and stuff. Whatever you want. Like, a movie or something. I mean, I know I’m not rich and stuff and Arcadia Bay kinda sucks and there’s nowhere to really go, but… might be fun anyway. To like. Go out.”
It takes a few seconds for the realization that Chloe Price - of all people - is attempting to ask her out on an actual date to fully sink into Victoria’s brain. It takes a few seconds more for Victoria to piece together a response. “Or…” She hesitates. “You could just. Stay here?” She pats the empty space on the bed next to her when Chloe gives her a confused stare. “Eat fries with me and watch cartoons in bed all day?”
Chloe blinks at her, then laughs. “Shit, diner food and cartoons in bed? I thought I was going to have to figure out something fancy. Wear a tie and stuff.”
“Shut up,” Victoria laughs. “So is it a date or not?”
“Yeah. You’re on, Chase. It’s a date.” She’s mercifully considerate enough to kick off her filthy boots before she crawls up the mattress to settle in next to Victoria. She smells better than Victoria would’ve expected; she must’ve showered this morning. “I get to pick the cartoons, though.”
Normally Victoria wouldn’t let anyone wrest her remote controls from her fingers, but she lets Chloe pluck them from her hands without a fight. To her pleasant surprise, Chloe cues up Crunchyroll and puts on a show she’s been wanting to watch for ages, rambling to Victoria enthusiastically about how awesome and weird it is as the first episode loads.
Victoria’s head still feels like she spent last night bashing it against a wall, and she still doesn’t have any idea whether welcoming Chloe into her space is the best idea she’s ever had or the worst. But she settles into Chloe’s warmth and munches on her cold hamburger with the greatest feeling of contentment she’s experienced in years. She suspects she should probably regret every decision that led her to this moment, but she doesn’t. She truly doesn’t.