Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s not every day that one is serenaded in the middle of lateral raises. Well, by something other than Victoria’s incredibly loud rap music. Not that Dana entirely minds, but she knows the noise bothers Stella(who studies like an academic at a fucking art school, but whatever).

Dana lowers her barbells and follows the music. It’s obvious who it is, unless Kate took up the acoustic guitar. Max’s door is slightly ajar. She’s lost in thought as she noodles. Her eyes are doing that unfocused thing that Juliet describes as ‘creepy’.

Juliet just doesn’t know Max very well. Yes, she does have a somewhat predatory pair of eyes and habit for being a silent observer, but she’s a sweet kid with a good heart. Dana can tell. There’s only one thing she listens to and it’s her gut.

She’s hovered long enough for Max to notice and lift her head. The little thing twitches and kind of folds into herself over her guitar.

“H-hey Dana. Sorry, do you want me to keep it down?” She says.

“No, I just thought I heard Feel Good Inc and came to hambone with my jam.”

“Here to hambone with your jam-bones?” Max says.

She winces after saying it, like she’s embarrassed. Dana laughs extra loud to make Max know that it’s okay to be silly around her. God knows, this whole dorm needs to lighten up.

Max counts out in four breaths before starting that famous riff. Dana notices that Victoria’s music is a whole lot quieter(just like it gets every time Max is jamming) she doesn’t say anything about it. Instead she twists her hips and hammers out a beat on her chest and arms.

Max somehow samples a bit of DARE into her playing. Dana tosses her hair and rolls her shoulders, careful to avoid knocking over Max’s plant.

As if to join in their impromptu jam sess, a knock pushes the barely closed door open. Victoria stands in the doorway with her other fist almost grinding into her hip with the pressure. Dana gives Victoria a neutral stare. Victoria’s attention is on Max though. Max is putting her guitar away, looking down. She catches Victoria’s gaze and they’re suddenly locked in a staring contest. Dana feels like she’s intruding on a private moment.

“Do you losers mind? Some of us are trying to study!” Victoria says.

“Sorry for bothering you, Victoria, I’ll keep my door closed.”

“You can actually study while blaring Missy Elliot loud enough for Stella to hear? Like, have you ever heard of headphones?” Dana chimes in.

That breaks the spell and has Victoria’s head whipping in her direction. Those nasty little grey eyes narrow and her whole face pinches like she sucked on a lemon.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Dana.”

With that she’s storming away. She slams her door because she is literally twelve.

“Christ, what an asshole.” Dana says.

Max scratches the back of her neck looking please with herself.

“Thanks for sticking up for me, Dana.”

Dana hugs Max because she looks like she needs it.

“Any time, Max. Thanks for the concert.”

“It was a collaborative endeavor. Thank you for providing the percussion.”

On her way back she notices that Victoria’s music is three times as loud. Dana shakes her head. Poor Brooke.

Taylor watches with amused annoyance as Victora almost snaps herself in half with the strain of trying to suck Jefferson’s dick while being too busy riding Caulfield’s.

Like, can she be anymore fucking obvious than pointing her whole body at Max and talking about her every waking second not spent trying to crawl into their teacher’s lap.

It’s pathetic. She doesn’t say that to Victoria’s face. Taylor enjoys her life. Well, the plastic wrapped facade of her life. Everything is okay when she isn’t thinking about how damn expensive private school and spinal surgery plus hospital stay costs. It’s fine when she forgets that her mother will probably never walk again and that she’ll have to take some time off school to support the family instead of applying to NYADA.

Victoria’s gossip and money distracts her from her shitty life. So does her incredibly obvious crush on the girl she supposedly hates.

Right there. Max dropped a pencil and Victoria actually fucking moved her chair to get a better view of her ass. Is anyone else seeing this?

Taylor turns over her shoulder to check Hayden for his opinion. As usual, he’s passed out on his desk. She does make eye contact with Alyssa who looks pointedly between Kate, Max, and Victoria, then back at Taylor to raise her eyebrows.

What does Kate…?

Oh.

Max, sits with her body pointed at Kate. Jaw propped on one hand and sighing wistfully as the light catches the other girl’s eyelashes. Kate squints and hunches farther over her paper, completely unaware of being in a gay-ass love triangle.

Taylor looks back at Victoria, who’s looking at Kate with a dreamy little sigh, then Max is looking at Victoria with that wounded puppy look and Taylor needs to take a fucking walk because this is some OC level bullshit.

She doesn’t ask Jefferson to be excused because she’s a goddamned adult and this is a goddamned art school.

She gets Kate Marsh at least. There’s a reason everyone likes to watch that video. Under all of those conservative skirts and blouses hides an incredibly hot body and face to match. Like, who in Blackwell wouldn’t mind seeing Kate Marsh naked? No one.

Caulfield though?

On her way to the fountain she passes the geeks in the science lab. Warren, Max’s other stalker, is gesticulating wildly while Brooke salivates over him and she swears to fucking god there is something in the water making all of the nerds super oblivious to the people who actually want to bang them.

Dana’s at the water fountain taking her sweet time. Taylor sighs forcefully.

“Whoa, what’s got you in such a bad mood?” Dana wipes a film of water from her lips.

Taylor thinks about holding it in. Her motivation for that would be good. Not getting strangled by Victoria.

“Gay love triangles in the photography room.” It’s vague enough to not get her in shit.

“Oh. You have Victoria and Max in your class right?”

Taylor surfaces for air from the fountain and sighs in relief.

“Thank god I’m not the only one who noticed.”

“Oh yeah, we’ve got kind of a betting pool going on,” Dana leans against a locker to explain,

“Brooke thinks that on a Friday night they’ll come to verbal blows that leads to a full on make out session. Stella thinks they’re going to end up too hurt from their fighting to ever forgive each other, and Alyssa suspects they’ll be as two ships passing in the night. Never to meet where they want it most. And Juliet thinks we’re all reading into it too much and that Max and Victoria are totally straight.”

Taylor wipes her mouth, “What do you think?”

“I think whatever happens I’m going to keep Max safe.”

“Do you ladies have a pass for loitering in the halls?” Fucking David Madsen is charging at them like a dog on a leash. His hair’s sticking up and his voice is scary, but ultimately he is ineffectual.

Taylor gets back to class in time to witness Victoria seethe watching Max press her hand to Kate’s waist as she talks to her.

“Wanna go to Chipotle after class?” She says.

Victoria makes a noise like a kettle before breathing out and nodding ‘yes’.

If that girl gets any more repressed she will either combust or teleport back to the Victorian (hah) Era.

Alyssa’s lost in thought looking at her developed pictures when she notices the raised voices in the courtyard below. Curious, she looks down to see Max and Chloe by the water fountain. Max is sitting on the ledge of it while Chloe splashes around, whooping.

Chloe Price. Fun to be around if you can stay on her good side. Dated Rachel Amber. Now it looks like she’s moved on to Max, judging by the easy way she slides her palm against Max’s throat.

It certainly is an interesting new factor in the betting pool. Looks like Brooke’s going to owe some money.

Hold up. Victoria’s walking out of the parking lot solo for a change. Alyssa texts Stella, Brooke, and Dana with the update. Brooke arrives quickly and out of breath, just being across the hall in the science room.

Stella’s hot on her heels with Dana dragging Juliet to bring up the rear.

“What’s up?” Brooke says.

Alyssa points to the fountain. Victoria and Chloe are in defensive stances staring each other down. Max tugs at her bag between them, looking uncomfortable.

“Ohhh shit! Let me text Taylor.” Juliet says.

Stella uses her best David Attenborough impression to narrate,

“Here we see two Alpha females displaying for the same potential mate. The tiny gay seems unsure of where to turn her affections. Both dances are impressive.”

Taylor and Courtney interrupt by dashing in and jostling the crowd.

“What did I miss--oh goddamnit Victoria.”

There’s a collective nod in agreement as they watch her to try and use her height to intimidate Chloe. Chloe just gives her a lazy shrug, clearly more confident about her chances with Max.

Alyssa shushes everyone loudly.

“Player three has entered the game!” Dana says.

Brooke makes a distressed noise. It’s Warren.

“Now, watch as the satellite male, NiceGuyitus CantTakeAHinticus, tries to present for the small female. It doesn’t appear to be working.”

They all watch as Warren tries to get Max’s attention. She’s more focused on Victoria and Chloe who look like they’re about to throw down.

“If they fight, my bet’s on Price. She’s scrappy and probably knows how to take a punch.” Juliet says.

“Nah, Victoria takes Judo. She’s going to wipe the floor with Chloe.” Taylor chimes in.

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between martial arts and fighting.” Alyssa says.

Max’s phone rings. She walks away from her champions to take it.

The spectators watch Chloe and Victoria deflate from puffing their chests out. They seem to realise how silly they look. Victoria balls her hands into fists and storms away toward the dorms. Chloe lights a cigarette right next to a ‘no smoking’ sign.

“Play four wins, fatality.” Stella says.

“It seems that way. Kate doesn’t even have to be here to have Max wrapped around her little finger.” Dana says.

“How the hell do you know it’s Kate on the phone?” Juliet looks mystified.

“Max’s posture. Protective, yet shy. Look-look-look, she’s going to do that dreamy sigh she does.”

True to prediction, Max sighs adoringly at whomever is on the phone.

“Victoria’s probably going to want to vent after that. Seeya.” Taylor says.

“I’m gonna go check on Warren.” Brooke says.

Both leave. The show seems to be over. Alyssa’s phone buzzes. It’s a text from Warren asking if she wants to go to the movies

She bites her knuckle and shows the others.

“Bruh.” Dana says.

The best part of working at a highschool is encouraging the youth to follow their dreams. He loves to keep in touch with his students after school. Ask the girls out to coffee and see their portfolios.

After all, each student is budding artist just oozing with potential.

Well, some are just taking photography because they think it’ll be an easy A. He doesn’t bother with those. It’s usually the boys. Girls are so much more passionate about their art. Or at least they’re so insecure that they’re willing to take whatever praise they can get. Same goes for models. Taking their clothes off for attention.

He shuffles through the weekly assignments. There’s the assignments, as well as optional photo journals for extra credit. So far it’s Stella, Max, and Victoria who bother with the photo journals consistently. Kate used to submit photos of her drawings. Taylor and Daniel do occasional submissions. The rest are write-offs.

This week’s assignment is chiaroscuro. Particularly drastic use of shadow.

Taylor has submitted… a black and white picture of Dana putting on eyeshadow. Very clever, Taylor. She understands how to use shadow and has managed to get a nice rim light on Dana. A.

Dana would make a nice model. A little too loose though.

Daniel’s picture lacks any sense of composition. He has raw skill, but hasn’t refined them beyond the sketching stage. B-.

Hayden has heavily edited a picture of the school at midday. He went overboard with the levels and layer maps. C+. A barely passing mark for a student who puts in the bare minimum effort.

Stella’s problem is that she’s a left brained worker at a right brained school. She understands the lessons on a conceptual level, but always fails at the execution. Everything is just a little off. She has no eye for photography. B+ for effort.

No submission from Kate Marsh. Surprise, surprise. Another zero.

Alyssa’s piece is actually quite lovely. A puddle in the rain dappled with just enough shadows to catch the ripples. He’ll give this an A because Alyssa doesn’t really have much else going for her.

And now, the piece de resistance. Who will win this week’s assignment? Desperate for attention Victoria or academically lazy, drama queen Max?

Victoria excels at technical photography. Her compositions are perfect. Nothing is left up to chance. Her attention to detail leaves one thing out, some fucking personality. It seems like she compensates her lack of feelings by constantly being in broadcast mode.

Max can catch the natural beauty in anything. Her non-presence allows her to blend into the background and capture candid photos. Little things, cooks taking out the trash, a tin can on a fence, some birds. Max manages to get it at just the right moment and angle to be breath taking. So, under that shy, stuttering mess is a girl who sees and feels too much.

Victoria’s piece this week gives him pause. It’s a photo of the woods around the dormitories, near that totem pole. For a second he surveys the tree line, it’s a boring shot until he looks back at the foreground and notices the corner of Max Caulfield’s face in the bottom. Hair, a patch of freckles and one blue eye almost completely covered in shadow.

Catching the observer in the act. His fingers twitch on the photo. It would appear that Victoria does actually feel something. He feels pinned by that gaze. It’s terrifying. Is this what Victoria sees?

A+

Now, can Max Caulfield top that?

Victoria Chase dressed like a flapper and lit by the setting sun through a huge window. The golds in her hair and eyes are lit up just barely by an ambient light. The shadow panes on her face make a stark contrast. She looks vulnerable. Softer than he’s ever seen her. The environment is more controlled than Max’s usual work. Clearly done in a studio.

What an interesting juxtaposition. He grabs both of their photo journals. He needs to clarify something. Max’s has the usual mix of whatever she felt like taking pictures of that week. Victoria’s journal is more deliberate and… ah yes. They did collaborate. He’d like to see more of the photos, to be honest. For… professional reasons.

He raises his eyebrows at a shot of Max in a suit and tie with her hair slicked back like some kind of gangster or 90s detective. The look she’s shooting the camera is delicious. She kind of reminds him of sweet Rachel. How she seems to just know what angles her photographer loves. He didn’t think Max would be as good a model as a photographer.

Their collaboration is something he should’ve suggested from the beginning. Max’s influence loosens Victoria up, and Victoria seems to be showing Max the ropes of studio photography.

A+

He wonders if they’re fucking.

The weather’s a mess and Dana’s bed is too small. Trevor wakes up with his watch alarm at five so he can sneak out before anyone notices. Not that it’s that big of a secret, but he doesn’t want to get himself or Dana in shit.

He wants to go back to sleep, but his bladder alerts him that isn’t happening.

Girls bathrooms have all stalls and no urinals. Of course. They don’t pee standing up. It’s better this way. He doesn’t want to accidentally flash his shlong to any of the girls. Exiting the stall, he bumps into a bloody-faced Max. She’s leaning on the sink like it’s all that’s keeping her up. Her freckles stick out harshly against the pale pallor of her skin and her nose is dripping with blood.

She cracks a weak smile, meeting his worried gaze in the mirror.

“We gotta stop meeting like this, Man.” She says.

“Jesus, Max!” He rushes to her side.

“Wash your hands.” She says.

“What?”

“You didn’t wash your hands.”

She looks half dead and she still cares about hygiene. He pointedly washes them then grabs at her jacket. He doesn’t want to just grab at her without consent.

“Can you walk?” He says.

Her mouth is a crooked little line. With a hiss, she pushes herself away from the sink, takes two steps, and then collapses against the wall.

“N-no, guess not.”

“Let me take you back to your room?” Trevor says.

Max shakes her head. She keeps blinking like she can’t focus.

“Can’t sleep there. ‘s not safe. Nathan’s been leaving me presents.”

Trevor stands to the right of her, hands on his knees and brow furrowed as he focuses on her.

“What? Like shitting in your bed?” He says with some disgust.

“Hah, no, like dismembered dolls and pictures of my severed head.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck? Have you gone to the cops?”

Max barks a bitter little laugh, shaking her head again.

“They don’t believe me. Even if they do, Prescotts have ‘em in their pockets. ‘snogood. ‘ve been sleeping at Chloe’s or in Kate’s room. Just help me over to Kate’s room. Needtofeed h-her rabbit whileshe’s gone anyway. Not gonegone, not like before. Stopped her. Stopped everything.” She keeps babbling.

It’s the most he’s ever heard Max talk to be honest. She sounds like she really needs a good vent and a cry. He’ll have to tell Dana.

Trevor darts his head around helplessly. Kate’s room. Right. Should be simple enough. There’s only like ten rooms on this floor and he knows which is Dana’s. Piece of cake.

Max, for her part, moves her legs like a puppy swimming on land. It would be cute if this situation weren’t so stressful. He sweats and adjusts his hold on Max’s waist. The white boards should help. There’s a blank one, okay, not helping. Down the hall he sees a Ghandi quote.

Ghandi’s kind of like Jesus, right? That seems like a good guess for Kate’s room. He grabs the door handle and--fuck, it’s locked.

Trevor looks down to see that Max is has her eyes closed and a white spit film around her mouth, but she’s still breathing, so that’s good. He should probably take her to the nurse or something.

“Max, do you have the key for Kate’s room?” He stage whispers.

“Mmdoesn’t need a key.” She says.

Oh. Well that explains that. The door knob he rattled twists open and there stands a sleepy Victoria. He feels time still for a second as her eyes dart from him, wide eyed to Max who is half asleep and being held up by his arm. She’s giggling slightly and her nose is bleeding again.

Victoria herself looks oddly out of place in one of those Japanese animal onesies and a look of tired confusion. Then she sees half dead looking Max and her expression turns to concern, then downright rage.

“This probably looks bad.” Trevor says.

“This is Victoria’s room. Kate’s next door.” Max says.

“Max?” Her voice is shrill with concern.

“Heeey.” Max says.

She shoots Victoria a grin and a thumbs up. Victoria rushes forward to help him with Max. He’s a little relieved for the help, albeit, suspicious of the her motives. Victoria has this whole… evil queen bee thing going for her. She doesn’t do random acts of compassion.

“Max, should I call 911 or something?” Trevor says.

“s fine. I’m fine.” She waves him away.

Victoria is holding her up now and inspecting her face. She’s pushing Max’s hair back to check her temperature and gently running a thumb over her cheek. It’s the most gentle he’s seen her.

“I need to sleep. Pleasejust let… let me sleep in Kate’s room. Smells nice and I won’t getstabbed by Nathan inmysleep. ‘m very tired ‘Tori pleaseletmesleep.”

Trevor hovers, unsure of how to proceed. Should he trust Victoria with Max’s well being? Should he call for help. The latter seems like a good idea, but Max came off as very opposed to it. He’s worried as fuck.

“I’ll take care of her.” Victoria says.

Like, take care of, as in murder or…?

Victoria does that authoritative little head bob before closing her door with a click. His return to Dana’s room is quieter than the trip with Max down the hall. Dana has made up for his absence with hogging both the blankets and the space. He sits on the edge of the bed and kisses her cheek. She does that cute furrowed brow thing as she blinks herself awake.

“Hey, you leaving?” She says.

“I was, but then some weird shit went down.”

She moves over and sits up so there’s more space for him. Her tank top is lopsided. He fixes the strap.

“I went to the bathroom and found Max looking like she’d done a bunch of cocaine. Completely out of it. She spouted some stuff about Nathan threatening to kill her and then asked me to take her to Kate’s room because it’s safer than her own.”

Dana’s eyebrows are raised and she looks way more alert. Adrenaline works way better than coffee.

“Only, I didn’t know which room was Kate’s, so I accidentally kind of left Max in Victoria’s care.” He finishes.

“Shit.”

“Yeah. So, if bad shit happens to her, blame Victoria.”

Dana nods. He kisses her, standing in the same motion. She grabs his hand to stop him.

“Hey Trevor, thanks for telling me. And for taking care of Max.”

He shrugs because it should be a no brainer.

On the way out of the girl’s dorm he sees Nathan Prescott smoking by the fountain with a visible black eye and scratch marks. He decides to take a detour to the dorms, because fuck if he’s crossing paths with that shithead. He’ll call a few friends and they can all kick Nathan’s ass later.

But, it’s been a fucked up morning and he could really use a blunt and a wank.

Finding Trevor holding a suspiciously out of it Max outside her door at five thirty in the morning is not how Victoria expected to start her day. She thought it might’ve been Nathan rattling her door knob this early. He’s taken to venting his frustrations about being unable to strangle Caulfield in her sleep to her.

Max looks up at her from clumped lashes, a streak of blood hastily smeared under her nose. So pathetic and small. Sweat’s beading along Trevor’s hairline.He looks between her and Max like a tennis spectator. Serves him right. Holding a barely conscious girl in the “No Boys Allowed” girls dormitories at the asscrack of dawn does not a hero make.

Max starts talking without really saying much. Victoria forgets to chew Trevor out and make some kind of smart remarks about the elasticity of Dana’s genitals and the size of his. Instead she’s focused on the tiny girl in front of her. Max looks too weary to be afraid or hostile.

“‘Tori pleaseletmesleep.”

Victoria feels a rush of warmth at the nickname. Tori. No one’s ever called her that before. Always Vic, Vicky, the Victorious one.

She tells Trevor that she can take care of Max. He opens his mouth to protest, but he’s so far out of his element that his mouth just flaps around helplessly before she shuts the door in his face.

Max’s clothes are chilled from outside. She has like no body fat so she’s probably freezing. Victoria goes into autopilot, unzipping Max’s hoodie and helping her out of it. There’s blood on her grey T-shirt. Victoria folds Max’s hoodie and puts it on her chair before remembering that Max needs help standing right now.

She seems to be doing alright. She’s sitting on Victoria’s bed and pulling her shirt off and holy shit.

“Max…”

Max pulls the shirt off with some force, then winces at the jostling of her nose.

“Can I borrow a sleep shirt?” She says, sounding incredibly tired.

Victoria nods. Once, twice, three times before turning to fish something out. She hears the rasp of clothing and the thud of it hitting the floor. Her ears burn.

She and Max kissed a little bit at the studio, and she’s been sending her flirtatious texts, but a half naked(or more judging by the sound of more articles of clothing hitting the floor) Max Caulfield in her room has Victoria thanking all of the deities she doesn’t believe in.

She tosses a soft shirt and shorts over her shoulder in Max’s direction. She hears a whap and ‘ow’.

“Sorry.” She says.

“Hit me in the face.” Max says.

“Maybe it’ll be an improvement.” Comes out without meaning to.

Max replies with a laboured sigh.

“I’m decent, you can turn around.”

Victoria does and she isn’t sure if there’s anything decent about Max’s incredibly long, deliciously freckled legs. Max falls back against the mattress.

Victoria moves to tuck Max in properly and gets dragged down by the smaller girl.

“I’ll take the couch, it’s fine.” She says.

“I could really use a cuddle buddy rightnow.”

Max sounds so defeated, and it’s not like Victoria needs much convincing anyway. She drags Max under the covers with her and rests as respectful a distance as one can get in a double bed.

(Not far.)

A weird part of her brain is telling her that this is the first of many times of having Max in her bed. She tells that brain to shut the hell up.

“I really want to cry, but I’m too tired.” Max says.

Victoria looks at the look of stark vulnerability on the other girl’s face. She gathers Max up in her arm, feeling her possessive streak rearing its head.

Max responds by nuzzling the underside of Victoria’s chin and then falling asleep.

Victoria doesn’t think she can fall…

yawn… fall…

asleep.

Max wakes up feeling better rested and more sore than she has in at least two days. She’s warm and wrapped up in something that smells really nice. Oh, and it’s soft too. She runs a hand over it again and notices the contour.

That’s a butt. A fuzzy butt.

Then she hears a sharp exhale near her ear and snaps her eyes open.

Victoria looks adorable with bedhead and a pillow creased cheek. She’s squinting down at Max trying not to look awake. Max checks her attire to make sure she’s not naked.

Nope, not naked.

“Hey.” She says.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” Victoria says.

Right. Trevor. The bathroom. Kate’s room. Victoria. It all felt like a fuzzy dream, she wasn’t sure if it was real. Maybe in another reality it isn’t and that’s distorting her memory. Right now she is and isn’t in bed with Victoria, like the cat both dead and alive in a box. Chloe’s a lot like that cat.

Fuck.

Chloe.

“Earth to airhead, Loser. Are you okay?” Victoria says.

“Sorry, just a little lost in thought.”

“When are you not?”

“I feel better now, I can leave.”

Victoria makes a frustrated noise and grabs Max to keep her from leaving. Max swats her hand but burrows closer to the soft fabric of Victoria’s adorable Kigurumi.

“You had me… it was weird to see you like that.” Victoria says with a bit of a blush.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

Max looks up to see Victoria wrap her lips around the word ‘always’ despite not being able to vocalise it.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the power flickering. Outside wind cuts through the trees like a blade. The tide will rear back and the sky will turn black.

Today is the end of the world.

“It’s the end of the world today.” She says.

Victoria lifts Max’s chin to look at her. Max expects to see derision, a sneer, or even slight concern for her sanity. Instead, alarm, understanding, and a little bit of guilt.

“You mean the party or?” Victoria says.

“I mean the tornado that’s going to destroy Arcadia Bay.” She says.

Victoria shows her teeth in a wince.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I fucking knew it. I knew the Vortex Club were involved.”

Max moves away from Victoria and this time the other girl lets her.

“It was a stupid mistake, and I’m sorry.”

“How? How did this happen?”

“Well, back in the nineties the Vortex Club got really into occult stuff. Like, Twin Peaks, and Buffy, and The X Files were really big, so a bunch of teenagers thought ‘the truth is out there’ and decided to see what they could do in this town. Arcadia Bay’s on a ley line.”

Max interrupts her, “A natural geographic path?”

Victoria rolls her eyes, “No, Loser, let me finish.”

“You know, you call me a lot of mean names for a girl who likes to sniff my hair and kiss my neck.”

Victoria’s face is radiating heat.

“Ley lines are where energy naturally gathers. Like an artery in the human body. At least, that’s what the books the members left behind. Look, they never found a way to harness the power here, but we did, and we fucked it all up.”

“Obviously.”

“Shut your whore mouth.”

“We did it for science. Kinda. I just wanted to know if people could actually control time. Spoiler alert: they can, and fucking Rachel Amber stole it and skipped town. Now we’re all fucked and she’s probably rigging the lottery in Cabo or whatever.”

Max’s whole body is cold. She can feel the heat trickling back in like tiny pins and needles. Her breath catches, looking at Victoria.

“What? Too much to believe?” She folds her arms across her chest.

Max lets the silence drag on until it’s uncomfortable. Then a knock hammers the door.

“Victoria! Let me in! You and Max both missed Science and I need to make sure you haven’t murdered her.” It’s Dana.

Rewind.

“What? Too much to believe?”

“In a minute and a half Dana is going knock on the door demanding to know if you’ve murdered me.”

Victoria swallows, she’s more likely to believe than Chloe, knowing the power does exist. So, when Dana inevitably knocks, Victoria mouths ‘you?’ and Max nods.

Maybe it’s their very real and impending demise. Maybe it’s the way Victoria held Max so tight all through the night until morning. Maybe it’s months worth of almosts and shy glances.

But they both feel a charge like electricity as their mouths meet and Max’s hands go to the buttons on Victoria’s Kigurumi.

Max wants her life back. She wants to a go a day without seeing Chloe’s white shirts becoming saturated red with her own blood. She wants to take pictures of Kate’s smile and play music together. She doesn’t want to fucking die today. Right now, out of all those things, Max wants to make Victoria Chase scream and cry and completely lose herself on Max’s fingers and mouth. Because this is her fucking fault and someone should punish her.

Because fuck, she tastes so good.

It’s Friday afternoon and Max Caulfield is making out with Victoria Chase after an argument.

She should be out with Chloe looking for a way to fix the town, but Victoria started all of this shit and she might know how to fix it.

She can rewind time. She’s going to let herself be selfish just this once.

Outside her door, Dana stands with a fist raised to knock. She isn’t alone. Gang’s all here. Brooke has a set of lockpicks jangling from her fingertips and a windswept Juliet is clutching an axe from Samuel’s utility room.

They stand on bated breath. Dana’s fist makes contact then mutes. She thinks she hears something.

Something wet.

Then Victoria cries out, “Ma-aahhh-ax. Ohfuck.”

She leans away from the door and checks with the others if that just happened. Stella punches the air. Brooke’s got this superior little smirk. Taylor’s rubbing her temples, collapsed against the wall in relief. Alyssa’s returning to her room, now that the danger is over.

“Time to pay up, Plebs.” Brooke says.

“Do you think I could put this in an article?”

Those remaining give Juliet withering looks.

Dana puts a hand on her shoulder,

“Honey. There’s a giant tornado threatening the whole town. Priorities.”

“Just saying, Max and Victoria hooking up would probably sell more papers.”

Judging their own reactions they can’t really argue with that.