Chapter Text
After sending the Selfie-Ho of Blackwell away - probably to cry to one of her squirrel friends - Victoria felt her day had gone about as well as it could have. Not perfectly, of course; said Selfie-Ho had sniped an answer from her in Mx. Dog’s class, and while putting the little hipster in her place brought some satisfaction, a deeper part of Victoria knew it was a poor substitute for what she actually wanted. She ruthlessly crushed that little voice and shoved it back in its hole. She was the Queen of Blackwell Academy, the light was already spectacular on this cool October afternoon, and she could relax, at least for a bit, with her loyal minion, Taylor, on the steps of the Prescott dorm, secure in her domain.
At least until the sprinklers turned on, forcing Victoria and Taylor to scramble up, just as the paint bucket hung by that idiot groundskeeper fell from the top of his ladder and splashed white paint all over her fucking sweater. Victoria shrieked at Taylor to stop dithering go get her some fucking towels before it set, and the other girl rushed inside, a terrified look on her face as she fled Victoria’s entirely justified wrath. The groundskeeper tried to apologize - as he should - but Victoria had no time for him. She stalked away, rage and humiliation bubbling up inside of her in equal measure, and sat back on the damp steps, no longer caring. Her outfit was ruined anyway.
And who should appear but the Selfie-Ho once more, Maxine Fucking Caulfield.
“What do you want, Max,” Victoria said. She couldn’t even muster up any real venom; she just sounded sad and pathetic, and she knew it.
Max didn’t say anything at first, only watched her. She was short, with a stupid bob cut that framed her stupid face stupidly well, and hideously attractive freckles dotting her cheeks ( and probably all over .) She was dressed in Caulfield-tragic, a simple hoodie and jeans combination, with a pink animal print shirt underneath. JANE DOE stood out below a white outline of a deer.
It was infuriating that Victoria should be attracted to someone so hopelessly clueless. It would be even worse after Max and Kate had their little fashion date with that traitor, Courtney. Whatever else she might say about her errant second minion, Victoria knew Court’s taste was impeccable.
Victoria’s eye was drawn to Max’s hand as it twitched towards her bag slung by her side. Her camera , Victoria realized. The little bitch was going to take a photo of her like this. Well, fuck that. Victoria could still salvage something out of this debacle.
“Come to gloat over me?” Victoria asked. “Are you just going to step on me to get in? Are you that desperate to go cry in your room?”
Max’s head cocked to the side, and a cute frown wrinkled her brow. Not cute, stupid. But her hand stopped moving towards her bag. Victoria was almost ready to count that as a win.
Until Max said, “Is that what’ll work?” nearly under her breath, and raised an eyebrow. She stepped up onto the first stair, looming over Victoria, who leaned back, feeling suddenly unsure.
Victoria felt her heartbeat speed up so much it must have tripled, as Max lifted her right foot up and placed it right in the middle of her chest. Her mouth was absurdly dry, and her hands shook, while she just stared up into Max’s beautiful wide blue eyes. Those eyes had glanced over her so many times, in class and in the halls, in the dorms - even in the shower, when Victoria had accidentally let her towel slip a bit. Now they were focused purely on her, and it was everything she had ever wanted from them. The full regard of Maxine Caulfield struck her nerves afire.
Max pressed down and Victoria went willingly, until she was sprawled out on the steps. Her brain seemed to have changed its placement in her body; now that small voice she’d buried deep was the loud one, and the haughty Queen was distant and unimportant as it screamed that people were looking . All that mattered was continuing whatever she’d done to get Max’s attention and foot on her.
She stumbled a bit and had to grab for the rail as she pressed down and literally walked over Victoria to climb up the steps, but held its own special Max charm. It meant it was really the ungainly hipster doing this, not some alternate universe doppelganger. The pressure as she ascended was suffocating and amazing and Victoria never wanted it to end.
Then it was gone, and so was Max, with only a look back full of contempt and… something else, and her parting words: “Maybe try being nicer first, next time, Victoria.”
Victoria stared after her as the dorm door swung closed. The memory of that pressure and the intensity of it stayed with her, and she clung to both like a drowning woman to a raft. Be nicer… I- I can do that . I can save it up all for you, if it gets me more of that.
Victoria giggled, nearly hysterical, and threw her arm over her eyes, barely noticing when Taylor finally returned, a reluctant Courtney in tow.
Arcadia Bay Buzz: December 27, 2012
Tragedy struck the halls of Blackwell Academy this Christmas, when photography teacher Mark Jefferson was killed by a stampede of reindeer.
Authorities are baffled as to why the animals are here, speculating only that they may have been part of a seasonal decoration or festival. So far, no one has come forward to claim the animals. A reindeer sanctuary has been contacted.
Blackwell’s Principal, Raymond Wells, has stated the disruption to the photography program will be minimal, and the administration has already reached out to several notable photographers to complete the academic year.
When asked if he had any words for the deceased, Principal Wells finally removed his Santa hat and…