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Victoria Chase breezes into the Girls’ restroom, her wedges clacking against the tiles with each and every sure step. She sighs through her nose when she notices that the stall nearest the door is occupied, meaning she doesn’t have the room to herself this time. Which, given the time of day, she didn’t truly expect… but it is nice to have a little bit of privacy every now and then, non ? But whatever, she just came in here to freshen up anyway. As long as whoever that is with the white sneakers waits until she leaves to release the fucking kraken in the toilet bowl, no harm no foul.
Her eyes light up, however, when she spots the total fucking hottie over by the sinks. She’s wearing an absolutely adorable black halter top dotted with white floral patterns, a stunning gold necklace, and tight white skinny jeans that accentuate her figure so perfectly that Victoria has to resist the urge to whistle in appreciation. And that’s not even mentioning the marvelously coiffed golden blonde hair, styled in a sexy little pixie-cut without a follicle out of place. Oh, and those eyes … clear and green and gleaming with intelligence. With challenge. It was enough to set Victoria’s heart aflutter. Manifique.
The eye candy Victoria is unabashedly ogling is the winner of this year’s Beacon’s Young Artist Award for photography.
She’s the up and coming queen of the Blackwell Academy Vortex Club (which, fine , she’s not a member of yet… but she is being courted, so whatever!)
Elle est la femme dans le miroir . The girl in the mirror. Victoria Chase .
Hello gorgeous… those pink lips twitch up into a little smirk when she gives her reflection a confident wink. Whose heart are you going to break today? Pfft… dumb question. More like whose heart won’t I break, amirite?
A muffled groan reverberates from behind the closed stall door.
Jesus fucking Christ, is it about to be Montezuma’s Revenge in here or some shit? Better get a move on, Chase.
Still, she can’t help but give herself another admiring once-over while she teases at her bangs. She’s looking good today, even if she does say so herself… repeatedly. She could have just about any guy in school, if she wanted. And half the girls too.
Her mostly obscured companion starts to sniffle, her breath hitching into small, barely restrained sobs. Which for Victoria is just uggggghhhhh . Like, seriously? Did she walk into the middle of someone’s mental health crisis or whatever? Should she go get the nurse? Fuck that, she soooo does not have time for that shit today. Or any day
Victoria shakes her head as she unscrews the cap to her mascara and raises the applicator up to her eyes. What was she thinking about again? Oh, right, boys . Lately they hadn’t really been working out for her. Sure, there were plenty of hot ones on campus who could be fun for a dance or even the occasional make-out session if Victoria was feeling it, but when it came to sex? Ehh … she just wasn’t getting the fireworks that the movies and romance manga led her to believe she’d experience. No earthquakes, no geysers bursting (on her end, at least), no flowers taking an early bloom… it was mostly just a lot of clumsy flailing and oafish hands that thankfully ended almost as soon as it began.
Plus, so many of them are just so crude and brutish, which she’s come to find out is so not her thing. She needs someone beautiful, and smart, and witty… someone who can keep up with her when it comes to both looks and conversation. Which at Blackwell, unfortunately, was mostly girls.
“Max…” a voice snivels, followed by a fist slamming into the side of the stall so loud it makes Victoria jump a little. “Why can’t you just… fuck !”
Ohhhh, guy trouble. Great minds think like me, much?
Not that Victoria hasn’t given some thought to giving girls a try lately. Okay, maybe a lot of thought if she’s being honest. Especially to one girl in particular.
La belle femme with the long, strawberry blonde hair. Eyes as blue as the ocean and just as deep too, if the way Victoria felt like she was in danger of falling into them every time she gazed too long was any indication.
The chemistry nerd and skateboarder extraordinaire. And ever-present pain in Victoria’s ass.
Kari Price .
Victoria fights off another sigh as she exchanges the mascara for a tube of lipstick. It’s true, she and Kari (okay, Chloe if Victoria is feeling charitable… which is admittedly rare) are not exactly on the best of terms right now. Some might say she was Victoria’s nemesis, but that was putting it way too harshly. It’s not like she’s that horrid skank Rachel Amber, after all. No, while she and Kari could be antagonistic to each other at times, Victoria liked to think they had more of a “Frenemy” thing going. With an option on “Frenemies with Benefits”, if Victoria wasn’t completely misreading the signs and the smoulder in her eyes.
Another muffled sob makes Victoria pause just as she’s about to touch the lipstick to her lips. “I’ve got a spare Plan B if you need one, hon,” She calls in as warm and soothing a voice as she can manage, which seems to earn her a startled grunt and a scrape of sneakers on tiles.
How’s that for today’s good deed? God damn, I’m like the best fucking feminist I know! Solidarité féminine forever!
Because sure, while she and Kari might be quicker to exchange insults than warm greetings when they pass each other in the hallway, while Kari might sabotage her Chemistry homework and Victoria might arrange to have her locker filled with fifty pounds of expired, raw cheese curds in response, that was all part of the dance, right? The back-and-forth. The give-and-take. Le tête à tête that was the build-up to their inevitable slap-slap-kiss , surely.
Hmm… now Kari Price with some tats adorning that pristine skin? Now THAT I’d like to see…
They’d be a volatile pair, surely. One that would be at risk of exploding whenever they came into contact with each other. And most likely, they wouldn’t last. But Victoria can use a little risk, a little chemistry in her life right about now… and from the crushing loneliness she catches glimpses of in those deep blue eyes from time to time, she suspects Kari can too.
Heh. A little bit of ‘FUCKU, CUNSN’ would be pretty nice right about now. Victoria was sooo pissed when she went through the trouble of looking up the periodic table only to find that there was no clever way to spell ‘FUCKME’ instead.
Maybe Victoria was totally off-base. Maybe Kari just hates her guts, which hardly seems likely but hey, stranger things have happened. But Victoria likes to think she’s a great judge of character, and she’s had Kari pegged as a total Tsundere from minute one. Every now and then when Victoria drops one of her devastating one-liners that are sure to keep Kari up at night and motors off with the thrill of victory in her heart, she will take a glance back over her shoulder. And when she does, those ocean-blue eyes are almost invariably riveted to the practiced sway of Victoria’s hips as she makes her grand exit. You just love to watch me walk away, huh?
Yeah, Kari Price totally wants a piece of this. And one of these days, by God, she’s going to get it .
The loud bang of the stall door being slammed open just about startles Victoria right out of her extremely expensive wedges. But it’s seeing the tall, strawberry-blonde girl who walks out that causes the lipstick tube to slip right through her fingers to clatter into the sink below.
Kari Price.
The girl with the ocean-blue eyes, the whites of which are now enveloped by a pattern of little red spider webs. Eyes that are glaring right at Victoria.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. She is so not emotionally prepared for this.
Kari grunts again as she sidles up to the furthest possible sink away from Victoria, turning on the tap to splash water onto her tear-streaked face. It’s clear that whatever… no, whoever she was crying over just now must have been responsible for some serious shit, because while Kari can be morose at times, Victoria has never seen her in such a state. And seeing it fans the flames of envy in Victoria’s heart into a sudden, raging inferno.
“Well if it isn’t Kari Price.” Victoria’s lips curl into her patented, above-it-all smirk. “Bad break-up? Did this ‘Max’ guy pump you and dump you or whatever?”
Deep down inside, Victoria recognizes that this is her chance. An opportunity to change the tone of their relationship. To offer comfort and solace from the source Kari would least expect. To be her shoulder to cry on.
Unfortunately, oftentimes what Victoria thinks she should say and what actually comes out of her mouth are two wildly different things. She knows she’s fucked up before the words even finish passing her lips. She just doesn’t know how bad until Chloe rounds on her, her reddened face a mask of white-hot fury .
“Shut the FUCK up, Vic, I do NOT need your bullshit right now.”
Ok, it’s clear she needs to reel this one back in. Take a beat, center herself. Try again with a little bit of compassion for once, and she might just be able to soothe the savage beast.
Instead, she blurts out “Ugh, chill, it was a fucking joke . No need to be so fucking sensitive, God damn. I just think…”
Look, she’s in therapy for it, okay?
“I. Don’t. Care.” Kari practically growls, taking a stomping step forward that sends Victoria hurtling three hurried steps back. Little drops of spittle fly from her lips when she almost snarls “You’re nothing but a spoiled, vapid bitch , the only thing special about you is your Daddy’s money. Now obviously, you’re slow so I’m going to spell it out for you: No one in this entire school gives a SINGLE SHIT about who you are OR what you think. Now get the FUCK out of my face.”
Victoria’s jaw drops open, and she can already feel the tears beginning to prick at the corners of her eyes. Her heart feels like it plummets right through the floor, Kari’s words flensing her right to the core. Touching upon her greatest fear: that she isn’t special, and never will be. That she’ll never be good enough, or smart enough, or talented enough, or pretty enough to be recognized, to be noticed.
Her fear of being irrelevant .
She doesn’t mean the words that come flying out of her mouth as Kari stomps out of the room, her only defense against the storm of insecurities that assail her. They come almost as naturally as breathing.
“Oh… oh yeah?! W-well why don’t you go wrap that SHITTY fucking truck around a MOTHERFUCKING TREE!”
She truly did not mean what she said. It was an awful thing said in anger, in the heat of the moment. It’s the last advice she would ever expect someone to take.
She certainly wouldn’t expect Kari to go ahead and do it anyway.
*****
In another world, a world almost exactly like this one, the entire student body was shocked by the news of Chloe’s accident. When word started to spread that she was paralyzed, perhaps permanently, they were devastated.
When visitors were allowed, some of the students organized trips up to the hospital. A few kids at a time.
It took almost seven days for Victoria to work up the nerve to face her.
Now, she planned to just walk right in there, plop her butt down and apologize. For what she said the last time she saw Chloe. For every shitty thing she said in the year and a half she’d known her. She was going to apologize and offer to do whatever she could to help. Whether that be to beg her father for the money to get her the most skilled doctors, the finest hospitals and rehabilitation centers. Whether that be to visit every day to keep her company. Whether that be to go jump in a lake.
But she wasn’t prepared for the sheer hatred she saw in those ocean-blue eyes when she walked through that door. She wasn’t prepared for the way she felt like her guts were being ripped from her body at the sound of Chloe’s strangled voice.
“I guess you got what you wanted.”
She managed to choke out an “I’m sorry” before she turned and fled from the room.
Chloe’s dad, a kind man with the same eyes as his daughter, stopped her just outside. Told her that Chloe was in a rough place right now. That maybe she should give it a few days and try again. Victoria agreed that she would.
As the days wore on Victoria was determined. She would face Chloe again.
Then the days turned into weeks, but Victoria kept telling herself she would do it soon. She just needed to give Chloe time. To give herself time to work up the nerve.
When the weeks became months, Victoria finally began to accept it. The simple truth that spoke to the core of her very being… that she was a coward. That she had always been, and would always be a coward. That nothing would ever change it.
And as the months stretched to years… the world began to move on without Chloe Price.
And eventually, Victoria did too.
It wouldn’t be until senior year that she met Max, and even then she didn’t put the pieces together until Max got up and hopped on a bus in the middle of their conversation. Or more precisely, until she heard the news the next day… that Chloe Price was dead. That it was Max who finally went to comfort her after far too many years. That it was Max who finally helped her find peace.
It wasn’t until after the funeral that she found out how fucked up everything had gotten. That the Price’s were working multiple jobs. That they owed more than a million dollars in medical debt. That Chloe had been slowly dying all that time, much of it spent alone.
She lost count of how many times she wished she’d done things differently. Wished she’d done ANYTHING aside from hide deep within the ebbs and flows of life, doing her level best to forget about the girl with the strawberry blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes just like everyone else did.
She wondered what might have happened differently if she’d been kinder to Chloe that day she was crying in the bathroom. If she’d really tried to be a friend to her then, or on any of the hundreds of days following her accident.
Now, she would never know.
“Now hold that pose. Good. You’re not a bad subject, Victoria. No Maxine, but, well, I’m afraid she won’t be joining us.”
*****
“… No one in this entire school gives a SINGLE SHIT about you or what you think,” Kari snarls, giving Victoria one final, pointed glare before turning on her heel to storm out of the bathroom. Leaving Victoria with nothing but her raging insecurities, her wounded pride, and a reflection that suddenly seems so completely manufactured and fake, a porcelain doll play-acting at being a person..
She feels completely exposed, like her clothes and flesh have been flayed from her body. Like anyone who walked in right now would be able to clearly see the ugly, stupid, worthless little girl inside. The one she tries to hide from herself just as much as everyone else. The one her parents endlessly chastise her for being.
She wants to scream.
She wants to tear her hair out.
She wants to chase Kari down and slam her face into a locker.
Mostly she wants to go sit in the stall and have a nice long cry of her own.
No, fuck that. Fuck ALL of that, and FUCK Kari Price especially. I don’t need her, I don’t fucking need ANYONE. And it’s not like she’s THAT hot anyway!
As Kari hurls the door open, Victoria screws up the nerve to shriek at her retreating back “Oh… oh yeah?! Well why don’t you go wrap that SHITTY fucking truck around a MOTHERFUCKING TREE!”
In another world, Victoria would stay right here and seethe and cry and fume and not give a single flying fuck about what Kari was about to go and do next, at least not until news of the accident got around.
But in this world, she does something altogether different. Maybe it’s the sudden sense of deja vu, like she’s been here, done this, and the t-shirt fucking sucks. Or maybe it’s the brief and rarely experienced twinge of that thing called “conscience”, the one telling her how much of a heinous bitch she just was to Kar… to Chloe , when all the girl needed was a friend. Or maybe it’s the growing sense of inexplicable unease, the feeling that if she truly does want to be a friend to the tall, pretty girl with ocean-blue eyes and the strawberry blonde hair, or even just to be a decent human being for once in her life… the time would be now.
“Chloe wait, I…” she starts as she pulls open the bathroom door, only to bite her tongue at the sight of not only her target already pushing out into the courtyard on the opposite end of the hallway ( seriously, does this bitch run fucking track or something? Curse those long, supple, shapely legs… ) but also just how crowded the hallway is at the moment. Which is to be expected since they're between class periods, but still… Chloe must have parted the ocean with her sheer rage.
Victoria makes her way down the hall in as fast a walk as she can manage, already self-conscious about the eyes that glance her way. About the black trails of mascara that are sure to be following her angry, frustrated tears. She wants to hurry, but she can’t help but fret over how that would look, Victoria Maribeth Chase, 2011 winner of the Beacon’s Young Artist Award, sprinting through the halls with her make-up running to chase after a girl in a plaid shirt to stop her from driving off in her pick-up truck like she’s campaigning for “Babylez of the Year” or some shit, and… and…
And… you know what?
Fuck it .
A Chase does not do half measures, and Victoria Chase is nothing if not going to go the extra mile… with flair .
So she runs.
At least insomuch as her wedges will allow, which is maybe a brisk jog at best, but still it’s better than nothing.
Dodging and weaving through the crowd, she finally makes it to the courtyard just in time to spy Chloe disappearing around the corner on the opposite side of the pool building.
FUCK!
She kicks off her wedges and goes all out. Trying not to think about what the grass and concrete are doing to her delicate feet. Trying not to think about all the hard work that went into her extremely expensive pedicure, exfoliation, chemical peel and mint masque that’s getting shredded. And she definitely doesn’t think about how winded she is already. Note… to… self… C A R D I O.
By the time she makes it to the top of the steps that lead down to the parking lot, all thoughts of the blisters that are sure to form on her sore and ragged feet fly out of her mind at the sight of Chloe angrily jamming her keys into the door of her shiny red truck. If the girl hears Victoria’s shouts of “Chloe!” and “Price!” as she throws open the driver’s door and flounces her way into the vehicle, she shows no sign of it. The adrenaline that surges through her veins makes it hard to focus on anything but the sight of that pretty red face through the windshield. She doesn’t even feel the pain of her ankle turning beneath her on the third to last step, a last second grab at the handrails the only thing stopping her from falling the rest of the way down as the engine roars to life.
“ CHLOE FUCKING PRICE! ” Victoria screeches as she runs in front of the truck. She slaps her palms down on the red hood just as the vehicle lurches forward, and though those ocean blue eyes widen in panic and recognition, though Chloe slams on the brakes almost immediately, it’s still too slow to prevent the front end from colliding with Victoria just hard enough to send her sprawling backwards. The thump of vehicle to flesh followed quickly by the air rushing out of her body as the hard asphalt meets her ass.
“ JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! ” Chloe shouts, flinging the door open and hopping out to rush over to Victoria’s side. “Vic- toria ? What the FUCK dude, are you trying to get yourself killed ?”
“I--” Victoria breathlessly stammers, tears of shock streaming down her face. “I… I wanted to tell you s-sorry--”
Theoretically, she knows that her knees hurt and her feet hurt and her ass hurts and her ankle really hurts, but somehow all she can feel are Chloe’s warm palms cupping her cheeks to tilt her face upwards, those pretty blue eyes staring into her own.
“You couldn’t have just fucking texted me or something? You know, like a normal person?” the strawberry blonde asks, the obvious concern in those deep blue eyes giving lie to the dismissive tone of her voice.
“ Pfft like I’d have your number in my phone.”
Those blue eyes roll around in Chloe’s skull and the concern morphs into annoyance. “Well, clearly you don’t have a concussion cause you’re just as bitchy as ever.” She rises to stand up, but Victoria grabs her wrists.
“ Fuck , look, I’m sorry okay!” she cries, her eyes pleading and chin quivering. “You’re right, I’m a vapid, selfish bitch who tries to pretend like she’s way better than she really is, and you’re having a bad day and I wanted to help but I just fucked it up like I always do and i’m SORRY !”
Chloe looks at her like she’s grown an extra head. “ That was your idea of helping?”
“I never said I was any good at it!” Victoria huffs, crossing her arms and pouting. I mean, can’t a girl get points for trying?
Chloe studies her crying face for a long time, but she slides down from her squat to a half-sitting position instead of trying to leave again so that’s something at least. Finally, she asks incredulously “Just… why do you fucking care? You hate my guts.” She does a way too good imitation of Victoria. “Oh look at the poor girl, better make fun of her because her parents actually work for a living.”
Victoria draws her legs up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, partially burying her face in her knees to hide the cherry red glow in her cheeks. “I don’t hate you… I… I actually kind of like you. Like, kind of a lot .”
She cautiously peeks up just in time to catch Chloe’s eyebrows doing their best to achieve orbit. “Okay now I know you’re fucking with me, is this some kind of prank? Did fucking Rachel put you up to this or something?”
“It’s true , and don’t you dare lump me in with that whore!”
“Well, you have a funny way of showing it then! You give me shit all the time!”
It’s Victoria’s turn to roll her eyes. “What, like you’ve never heard of negging? I thought it was our thing, you know? You fuck with me, I fuck with you… like, fun or whatever.”
“That’s got to be the most fucked up thing I’ve ever heard of, and from you that’s saying a lot. Do they not fucking teach you rich kids social skills?”
Victoria snrrks at that, and flashes her a lop-sided smile. “ See ? Are you telling me you don’t have any fun messing with me at all?”
Chloe looks away, and though her face is still hard Victoria thinks she may see the ghost of her own smile playing at the corners of her lips. Finally, she heaves a long sigh. “Maybe a little… but it’s not like you give me a fucking choice but to fight back. And that cheese curds thing was fucked up though, my text books still reek.”
Victoria reaches out to take one of Chloe’s hands in hers, and while the girl does tense up, she doesn’t immediately try to pull away.
“Look, I know I’m a shitty person, but I want to be better. And I really wanted to be nice to you today, but when I realized it was you who was crying over this Max guy--”
“Girl.” Chloe states flatly.
Victoria blinks, then blinks again. “What?”
“Max is a girl. She is... was my best friend my whole damn life until… it’s a long story, okay?”
“O-okay…” Victoria tries to keep the surge of giddiness welling up in her chest from showing up on her face as the thoughts of Max is a girl and that was definitely NOT a “best friend” cry careen around in her brain. “Ah… anyway, when I realized that this ‘Max’ broke your heart I… I guess I just got really envious. I couldn’t help thinking ‘if she’s crying over anybody, it should be me .’”
“Hey don’t diss Max… Maxine… whatever . She’s probably just straight or something, she was never good at people. Besides, I don’t think that came out the way you meant it to. ”
“I know what I said,” Victoria grins again, and before Chloe can splutter out an indignant response she adds “but, hey… can we just maybe, like, start over? Like, go sit down and bitch about life or best friends or rich girls or whatever . You know… give me a chance to not be a vapid disaster for once?”
Chloe sighs as she rises to her feet. “You’ve got serious problems… but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. We should probably get you checked out by the nurse though. You bought it pretty hard and your ankle is already swelling. I know a bad sprain when I see one. At least you don’t have road rash.”
“Cool…” Victoria holds her hands up toward Chloe, giving her the brightest smile she can muster. “And, maybe afterward we can chill in my room for a bit? You can teach me a thing or two about…” she pauses just long enough to bite her lip. “ Chemistry ?”
“Don’t push your luck, Chase,” Chloe groans, but not before those sea blue eyes dart down to Victoria’s lips, and not before her cheeks flashing bright red makes Victoria grin all the harder. Taking Victoria’s hands, she adds, “Now c’mon, up you go…”
The moment Victoria tries to put any weight on her feet, however, a blinding spear of agony lances up from the ankle she twisted on her way down the stairs, causing her to cry out as she slumps back down to the ground.
“Oh shit, sorry dude… thought you knew how to walk on a sprain,” Chloe chews on her lip and looks around, presumably for someone, anyone who could lend a hand. Seeing nobody, she sighs and turns her back to squat down in front of Victoria. Holding her hands back invitingly, she says “C’mon, I’ll carry you.”
Victoria’s jaw drops open. “You can not be serious… I’ll look fucking ridiculous .”
“You’ll look more ridiculous if I have to get a fucking stretcher. If you have any better ideas I’m all ears. Now hurry the fuck up.”
Not relishing the thought of trying to stand up on her own again and seeing no other option, Victoria finally heaves a deep sigh, she cautiously scoots up to wrap her arms around Chloe’s neck. The taller girl hooks her arms under Victoria’s knees, and she finds herself being lifted up in the air as Chloe stands up with a loud grunt and a mighty heave.
“Fuck…!” she groans, “you are way heavier than you look!”
“Sh-shut up!” Victoria complains, the effort to maintain her balance as she grips Chloe like a vice forestalling her ability to think of a wittier comeback.
“Stop fucking… moving and… relax!” Though it’s slow going and clearly a struggle on Chloe’s part, they begin making their way back to the school building. About halfway to the steps, Chloe grunts out “So you’re… not gonna… sue me or something… right? For running… you over I mean…”
Victoria can’t stop herself from laughing at that. “Guess it depends on what you’re willing to do to make it worth my while…”
“I swear to fuck… I WILL drop you… on your ass again…!”
Victoria just giggles and settles in, letting her momentary Knight in flannel armor focus on carrying her. She can’t begin to imagine what people might think when they see Chloe stumbling around giving Victoria, barefoot and with her make-up certainly a complete disaster by this point, a piggyback ride like she’s a goddamn toddler . She doesn’t even want to think about how much her ankle hurts, or how bad the nasty asphalt has ruined her favorite pair of jeans.
But Chloe’s warm, and she smells incredible , and she’s going to be okay… and for whatever reason that last part makes Victoria feel awash in an uncanny sense of relief. Why that might be she can’t begin to guess, but it certainly makes all the rest of it seem worth it.
“Hey, Chloe…” she nearly whispers, so quiet she wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t heard at all.
“Y… yeah ?” Victoria isn’t sure if that’s pleasant surprise she hears in Chloe’s voice at having said her name correctly for the first time in her life, or if it’s just the exertion talking. But either way...
“Thanks.”
Victoria bites her lip to stifle a yelp as her body slips downward when they mount the steps, causing Chloe’s hands to slide dangerously and delightfully far up her thighs. And while the sudden stiffening of Chloe’s body means she must surely be aware of where they’re currently placed, she doesn’t make any move to correct it.
Yep… Victoria thinks, grinning like the absolutely idiotic hornball she totally is .
TOTALLY worth it .