Dec 2, 2013 – First Choice Timeline

Max always hated leaving Math Lab; actually she loved leaving math, but the classroom itself was up in 218 in the back corner of the academy, which always meant as long a trek as possible from class through the halls of Blackwell and all the teen drama that stalked those halls; and with only the one stairwell (a popular hangout for collecting school gossip), it was impossible to leave math without a maximum of social interaction. For Max, this was a nightmare scenario; or at least it usually felt that way.

Today, she left Math with Kate at her side, and Kate wasn’t letting Max go anywhere without her — or one of her other self-appointed protectors. After her revelations to Kate and Dana the day before, the two had been adamant that she lean on them for support. Moreover, Max wasn’t to be alone until they felt comfortable that it was safe for her to be so.

The previous afternoon, Kate had returned shortly after Warren discovered the photo of Chloe on Max’s Memorial Photo Wall. When she entered, Kate had her backpack, complete with a change of clothes and all her books for the next day (which really seemed like overkill with her living just across the hall), and struggling with Alice’s cage and supplies in hand. Warren had run over to help, confused as he was that Kate appeared to be moving in. Not ready to open up to a boy that had been creeping way too close to stalker territory, Max had made a fumbling excuse about a sleepover and Warren had thankfully been too oblivious by nature to pick up on the obvious tells from Max: not her inability to look him in the eye, not her stammer, not her worrying hands, none of it.

After Kate had settled in and Warren had made his exit, the day had run fairly smoothly, at least for Max. Dana had returned to join them shortly thereafter once she had finished a call with Trevor who she had apparently placed in ‘timeout.’ Prompted by Max’s flustered concern, Dana had assured Max that all would be fine once Trevor had a couple days to sweat and learn his lesson.

That evening the trio of friends joined Warren for his sci-fi movie marathon in the downstairs TV lounge, where a smug-looking Brooke had been sitting beside her long sought after prize. Of course, that hadn’t stopped boy wonder from keeping way too close of an eye on Max’s reactions to each film, resulting in Brooke storming out and Max having to encourage Warren to go after her. She had even illicited support from Dana after Max cast her some pointed glares indicating that it was time for Dana to ditch her Grahamfield shipping tendencies and to jump on board the Brooke and Warren train. So, despite the awkwardness for (and from) Warren, Max had actually considered the evening a win.

That night, Kate had settled on Max’s futon, despite Max insisting that she take the bed, and though Max didn’t sleep nearly as peacefully as she had on Saturday night when she had slept cuddled with Kate, the sleep had at least been less embarrassing, and she had awoken surprisingly refreshed in the morning (5 am in the morning, but morning). Plus, her new roomie situation had brought some surprising but welcome benefits, like pre-class bunny snuggles and an early morning tea time. It had been her best morning since leaving that lost week behind.

While unfortunately neither Kate nor Dana shared first period World History with Max, Dana had accompanied her to class and Max had taken her usual seat beside Warren. As first period had ended, Dana and Kate’s promise to ensure one of them was always with her became much easier to fulfill, as Kate shared the next three classes with Max and had been waiting outside of World History to accompany her to Algebra.

So, in that manner, the day had continued, Max forcing herself through class after class with the constant support of her friends, and by the time Math Lab had ended, Max could feel that inkling of her before self’s confidence returning, of that self before that week. Of course, that self hadn’t had much traditional confidence, but she had had enough to manage her way through the anxiety’s and social pressures of high school without constant breakdowns and panic attacks, and that was all the confidence that Max needed right now. The rest could come in time.

So, slightly missing her solitude (old habits never die with ease), Max found herself navigating the social labyrinth of Blackwell’s central stairwell side-by-side with Kate in the gap between third and fourth period. She felt surprised at how the new arrangements had given her this renewed confidence to face her first day back from break head-on. Lost in the high of her first truly good day since Chloe, she made her way down the stairs in a daydream-like daze.

“Nice wardrobe.” Victoria rolled her eyes as their paths crossed in the central lobby of Blackwell just as Max and Kate exited the stairwell. So much for those good day vibes.

“Tory!” Kate cut Victoria her no-nonsense big sister glare, which Max felt had made a surprising number of appearances of late. More, Max stared slack-jawed as Victoria actually slowed down in step with Kate and averted her eyes almost in apology. Only almost of course; one can’t expect miracles. And what was with that nickname? Just how much time had these two been spending together, and how self-absorbed had Max been in the past couple of months not to notice?

“What,” Victoria asked. As if to counter the obvious curtailment of her behavior, Victoria continued. “I paid her a compliment.”

“Please, play nice.” Kate’s glare never wavered.

“Fine. I like your sleep-shirt chic you’ve got going on there.” Victoria waved towards Max’s much-too-large-for-her rock chick t-shirt that she had chosen for the day. “I still think the spiked bracelet is a bit much, though.”

In response to another cut of the eyes from Kate, Victoria threw up her hands. “Look, I can only go so far. Honest criticism is needed if she’s ever going to learn.”

Kate shook her head and this new trio continued on down the hall, Courtney joining them as she exited from the left wing of the first floor. Max followed along, completely bewildered. What bizarro version of Blackwell had she entered, and what sort of strange mind powers did Kate have over Victoria? This was the absolute nicest that the queen beeatch had ever been to Max, but more disconcerting than that was the way Victoria seemed to actually bend to Kate’s glances and lock in with her as if seeking the smaller girl’s approval. For a second, Max wondered if she’d somehow photo-jumped into another alternate timeline, but a quick check of her texts showed nothing out of the ordinary. Weird.

Victoria glanced over her shoulder to Courtney, as Max cautiously watched the interlopers. “Aren’t you supposed to be going up to History?”

“Um… what? Oh.” Courtney stopped, adjusting the strap of her bag. “My bad. Kind of just hit on autopilot, there. Bye, Vic!”

Victoria shook her head, then glanced over Kate to Max. “You set for today’s assignment?”

“What?” Max still couldn’t understand why Victoria was walking with them, let alone talking to her. Max had spent so much time lost in her own problems of late, she really had no clue what had shifted in the social dynamics of Blackwell since October; she was going to need to have a serious sit down with Kate after class to get to the bottom of this.

“The assignment. The thanksgiving assignment. Two photos. Expressions of two elements of photography. Focuses on line and shape or whatever half-assed BS Wells found in the text.”

“Oh, yeah. That.” Max paused. She had definitely not done that assignment. “Sure,” she said. She also definitely had no intention of sharing her failure to comply with Victoria Chase.

“Uh-huh. I look forward to today’s critique.”

Max’s breath hitched, then quickly returned to normal. She could do this. “Today’s what now?”

“Critique,” Victoria said. “You know. That thing we do. Photos to the board. Open discussion. Criticism.” Kate glared at her, and Victoria made an on-the-fly correction. “Constructive criticism.”

Oh shit. Max totally hadn’t heard that part of Wells’ instructions. She must have been zoned out at the time. This would be the perfect day to skip, but, just as the thought began to take shape, there they were at the door to their Photography class, Principal Wells standing in the doorway formally greeting them as they entered. There was no escaping this now.

“Welcome back girls. Please go ahead and pin your assignments to the board before you get seated.” He nodded at them as they entered, and Max could feel her anxiety rising. This is okay , she told herself. This is normal anxiety. This is I-forgot-about-the-homework anxiety. 

She beelined for her seat in the back, immediately taking out her books and settling down at her desk. I can do this. I can handle this.

“Max?” Max glanced up to find Victoria hovering over her desk, her two photographs in hand. “Photos to the board, remember?”

Max flashed her eyes to Kate for help, hoping that whatever magic powers Kate had gained over Victoria could at least get her away from her desk. Kate shrugged, her own photos in hand, then turned to Victoria as if about to intercede on Max’s behalf.

“Whatever,” Victoria said, before Kate could even speak.

She retreated to the tack board at the front of the class that had been rolled in for the assignment’s review. Stella and Daniel were already at the board pinning up their shots, and Taylor had just pinned up hers, turning and catching sight of both Victoria and Max. A look of absolute venom flickered over Taylor’s expression as she caught eyes with Max. It only lasted a moment, then her popular girl neutral demeanor resumed with the small flash of a smile to her queen bee and a stroll back to her seat.

Great, Max thought. Victoria’s decided to take a keen interest in my affairs. Wells gives the first actual photography assignment since Jefferson and I miss that it’s a public critique (though, in fairness, I would have been doomed even if I knew), and now Taylor is clearly holding a grudge. When did Photography become my least favorite class of the day? I mean, I’d even take a second helping of Math Lab right now.

As Kate returned from the tack board, she shot Max a questioning glance, clearly finally noticing that Max appeared to have nothing to pin up. Max simply shrugged her shoulders with an exaggerated grimace in response. There was nothing really to say.

Max immediately turned her attention towards coming up with any plausible reason why she had nothing to show for herself, although she knew full well she wouldn’t be able to lie her way out of the assignment. Acknowledging that fact, she shifted tactics, searching for any plan on even how to handle the obvious question from Wells, and the unwanted attention it would call to Max herself as the public nature of the classroom critiques meant that everyone would know she had ignored the homework.

Lost in these thoughts, Max barely noticed as the bell to start class rang and Wells took his place in front of the board. He waved over towards a tall, stern woman with long dark hair, gesturing for her to stand beside him. Exceedingly pale, the woman was dressed in a dark pants suit that only accentuated her alabaster skin, and the overall effect provided for an impressive, if menacing figure.

Apparently, the woman was a long-term sub and would be overseeing the class for the remainder of the semester – all two weeks of it. Wonderful, Max thought. We finally have a pseudo new teacher and I’ll be the only one who forgot the homework. That’ll be a great first impression. Another thought occurred to Max, and she scanned the tack board hoping against hope that Hayden would prove his usually over relaxed self and have slipped up as well. Nope. There were Hayden’s prints tacked under his name on the lower right of the board. Damn. The only empty slot remained the blank space for Max’s photos.

Realizing there would be no reprieve, Max returned her attention to the new teacher at the front of the class. She appeared to be in the middle of an introduction, but Max had completely missed it. What had she said her name was?  Yeah, you keep nailing this class, Max. Great job.

She knew that she should focus in and stop digging this hole deeper, but that was the exact moment that Max noticed Principal Wells reviewing the tack board. He stood especially transfixed before the blank space where Max’s photos belonged. Yes, day, please keep getting better. Thank you.

She sucked in a nervous breath, trying to steady herself, and made to look away, as if to hide. Before she could, however, Wells turned his full attention right back on her. Please let it go, please let it go, please let —

“Ms. Caulfield.” Wells’ stern baritone called out to her, and they locked eyes. Yep. Everything’s coming up Max, now.

She rose from her seat, taking a walk of shame towards the front of the class and the open door to the hallway where the principal waited for her, gesturing for her to accompany him outside. As she left her seat, Kate, the angel on her right, cast her a sympathetic look. Victoria on the other hand, the devil on her left, shot her a disapproving glare, which followed her the entire way up to the door. She tried to ignore the other looks, a mix of curiosity, pity, and snide delight — that latter came from Taylor.

Once out in the hall, Wells shut the door to the classroom, providing Max some modicum of privacy. The two stood alone in the empty hall, a fact made all the more apparent and all the more daunting by the unusual silence of what for all intents and purposes was usually the main artery of the school. Without the laughter and taunts of her classmates, the hall took on an almost oppressive feeling. The principal’s crossed arms and withering scowl did little to lighten the mood.

“Ms. Caulfield,” he started. “You are aware that with the unusual circumstances for this semester, this assignment takes on an atypical level of importance towards your overall grade, correct?”

“Um…” What do you say to that? Very aware that she could not (or at least should not) rewind this conversation, rather than dive in and try to talk her way out of it, Max simply froze.

“Maxine, you’re here on a photography scholarship. You of all people should be turning in your top work. At the very least, you should be turning in something.”

Finally Max found her voice.

“I’m sorry.”

“You understand that without much else to go on this semester, this assignment counts for nearly 30% of your semester grade. Turning in nothing will make it nearly impossible to even pass this course.”

Dog. She definitely hadn’t realized that.

In a small act of mercy, Principal Wells appeared to pick up on Max’s distress. “Now, the administration is very aware that you’ve had a difficult time since the incident in October.”

Way to sanitize it.

“However, that was nearly two months ago. So here’s what we are going to do. You have until Wednesday to complete the assignment. If you turn it in by the end of the day, I’ll request that you only be docked one letter grade. For every day that it is late after that, you will be docked another letter grade. That means anything turned in past this Friday is an automatic failing grade, although even that will be better than a zero. After Monday, you’ll be out of chances. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Max could barely get out the words.

“I hope to see better from you, Maxine. I’d hate for this slip up to cause the academy to lose a promising student.” As Maxine’s puzzlement showed on her face, Principal Wells continued. “Ms. Caulfield, you’re a scholarship student. Scholarships rely on grades. Without meeting those standards, I’m afraid you will have no place here at Blackwell.”

As Max lowered her head in understanding, Wells opened the classroom door gesturing for her to rejoin her classmates. She had been so close to having a truly good day. She shuffled her way inside, as Principal Wells shut the door, leaving her to finish her second walk of shame for the day under the full scrutiny of the class.

The rest of the period drifted by in a haze, Max sitting quietly in the back of the room, listening in on the criticisms of her peers’ submissions and attempting on occasion to chime in, but never feeling quite up for the stress of participation. As soon as class ended, Kate had been at her side, and rushing with Max out the door with an apologetic wave to the new teacher. Max thought her name was Ms. Sturgess or Sturgull, or something like that. She really hadn’t paid that close attention.

Moments later, the warmth of the sun greeted Max, along with the chill of the December breeze. Kate held her hand leading her down the main stairs and out into the quad, already turning towards the far end of the green and where the next set of stairs would take them down to the breezeway and around to the Prescott dormitories. Content to be pulled along by her friend, Max moved listlessly behind Kate, as if with no driving force of her own. As such, when a second hand grabbed her shoulder from behind, Max found herself pulled to an immediate halt, letting her fingers slip from Kate’s grasp.

“You’re what? Just quitting?” Victoria had removed her hand from Max’s shoulder and now both her hands rested on her hips, that same disapproving glare from earlier plastered over her face. Kate attempted to intercede, but much as it appeared to pain her, Victoria did not let Kate deter her.

“She needs to answer, Kate.”

“Tory. Not right now.”

“Sorry, but yes now.”

Kate made to protest again, but it was at that moment that a breathless Taylor caught up with the odd trio. “Why… what… you ran out of class so fast…” The winded girl paused, leaning forward hands to her knees as she caught her breath. At last regaining some modicum of composure, Taylor took in the scene, taking note of Kate and Max.

“Oh,” she said, turning her focus back to Victoria. “Soo… why’d you run out after the self-appointed selfie nerd and her prudish—” She stopped appearing to consider the rest of her statement, worrying at the hem of her shirt. “.. and her… and Kate… Sorry Kate.” Taylor avoided looking at Kate, keeping her eyes trained instead on Victoria and Max. “Old habits and all,” she finished still addressing Kate even if she couldn’t look her in the eyes.

Victoria didn’t even bother looking back at Taylor. “Just stow it for a moment, Taylor. Max, I need an answer.”

Again, Kate started to protest, yet this time, finally fading in from her daze, Max motioned for Kate to back down.

“It’s okay,” Max said, her voice lacking conviction, but she didn’t have the energy for anything more at the moment. She shifted her attention to Victoria. “I have until Wednesday… well Monday.”

“Which is it?”

“Um… Wednesday for a B. Monday for a high F, I guess.”

“You have until Wednesday.”

Max rolled her eyes, and made to rejoin Kate, her movements still borderline lifeless. She just needed to get this day over with. From behind her, she could hear Victoria following along, unwilling to yield.

“Max, you will turn in something on Wednesday, right?”

Max sighed. Why did she have to deal with Victoria right now? She so wanted to be having any conversation other than this one, but she could tell that the girl wasn’t going to just let this go.

“What do you even care, Victoria?”

“I hate to side with her of all people,” Taylor jumped in, following along as well, “but really, why are we helping her?”

“ We aren’t doing anything, Taylor, so shut up, already.” Victoria returned her attentions to Max. “Look, I don’t like being winner by default, okay? I want a real competition this time; not a repeat of the Every Day Heroes Contest.”

“By default,” Taylor asked, her voice picking up in pitch.

“Can it already, Tay. We both know you have no real interest in photography. Max is the only photographer in that class besides me with any real talent.” Way to be modest, Victoria.

Taylor huffed, but pulled into herself finally quietening down. Max had no idea why the girl put up with Victoria’s cold shoulder, but she guessed that wasn’t her concern. Taylor had made it clear where the two of them stood… after Max had kind of stuck her foot in her mouth. Okay, so this is a little bit on you. Fine. 

“Both of you, I’ve had a crap afternoon, so I’m sorry, but I don’t have the energy for this. Still, Taylor I do owe you an apology. I’m sorry. I should have asked about your mother sooner. I just… well…” Max’s voices caught in her throat, softening into a true murmur of contrition. “My excuses don’t matter. I’m just.. I’m sorry.”

“This is real touching and all, Max,” Victoria butted in, “but it doesn’t change that you’re letting me win without even putting up a fight.”

“You’re talented, you won. Can’t we just move on?”

“I won against everyone else. I haven’t won against you.”

“So that’s what this is about? Beating me?”

“No.” Victoria paused, grabbing Max once more and bringing the group to a halt by one of the nearby picnic benches. “No, it’s not about beating you. You’re talented, Max. Retro and weird with your hipster analog crap, but talented. Something I’ll deny I ever said if either of you ever repeat it. That goes for you, too, Taylor.”

Taylor waved her hand as if swatting the comment aside, clearly indicating that she wouldn’t dare say a word. Just then, Courtney of all people came running forward.

“There you all are. Wait, are we hanging with Max, now, too?”

“Ugh.” Victoria rounded on her two shadows, and this time Max couldn’t really blame her. She was just as frustrated by the growing crowd.

Dog, Max needed a smoke. Ignoring whatever the mean girl trio was up to, Max rummaged through her messenger bag searching for a pack of cigarettes, only stopping herself as she realized that would mean revealing her nasty habit to Kate. She paused. She also knew it was never wise to smoke near Victoria. She had not given up her crusade to rid Max of the habit. So, much as a cigarette would go a long way to calming her nerves right about now, Max finally dropped the flap of her bag closed and rounded back on Victoria.

“Okay. Let’s cut to it and get this over with. I’m talented and you want to prove you’re better.”

“Why is this so hard to understand? No,” Victoria rounded back on Max as well, ignoring Taylor and Courtney’s protestations. “I just want a fair contest, no matter the results.”

“Everything’s not a competition Victoria. I doubt I even turn in a photo, anyway.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit!” Victoria’s voice kicked up a notch at this last outburst, and Max could feel the eyes in the quad turning on the five of them.

“Victoria,” Kate said, motioning a finger to her lips.

“The quiet approach doesn’t work, does it, Max?”

Max grabbed her left arm with her right, almost shielding herself, and took a deep breath, before proceeding. “I just… j-just want you to drop it. I need to put today behind me.”

“So what, go up to your room and hide? I heard you did that all weekend?”

“Been talking to Taylor?” Max cut her eyes to Victoria’s blonde lackey standing off behind her.

“Bite me, Caulfield.” Taylor glared back, but that glare seemed forced now, a slight waver softening its blow. Even her voice held less venom, the words seeming more automatic than anything else.

“Her, and others,” Victoria continued.

Kate tried to step in again, flashing Max another look of concern, before returning to Victoria. “Tory, I know you mean well. I do. But maybe this isn’t the right way.”

“I wish it weren’t, but coddling isn’t doing her any good.”

“Maybe I can make my own decisions,” Max cut in.

Victoria stared her down. “Which would be what? To hide in your room and flunk out of Blackwell. We all know you’re here for photography. If you don’t turn this in, you can almost guarantee that scholarship will be gone.”

“And then you can reign supreme.”

“I want the damn challenge, Caulfield; but I won’t have it if you self-implode.”

“Look, even if I wanted to, I just, I don’t have any inspiration right now.” Max toed at the dirt, averting her eyes. This whole conversation was making her extremely uncomfortable and Victoria’s volume had barely diminished. There were far too many eyes on them for Max’s comfort.

Lucky for Max ( yay, me) , Victoria seemed to pick up on her physical cues, grabbed her by the arm, and hauled her around the side of the building, out of the view of the quad and the breezeway. The three remaining girls followed after.

“Look at me, Max.” Reluctantly, Max met Victoria’s gaze, staring into her determined, green eyes. Having Max’s complete attention, Victoria pushed on. “I haven’t even seen you take out your camera since October, not other than to set it on your desk in photography class. When’s the last time you even took a selfie?”

“It’s not that easy, Victoria.”

“Not that easy?”

Fuck it. Max needed that smoke. She reached into her messenger bag grabbing her pack of cigarettes, Kate’s eyes widening in shock.

“Max?”

Max held up one hand to calm Kate, then pulled out a cigarette. Before she could even light it, Victoria had smacked it to the dirt and snatched her pack away.

“Are we really going to play this game, again?” Max asked.

Victoria ignored her, turning to Kate.

“See what coddling does, Kate?” Victoria held out Max’s half empty pack of cigarettes. “I bet she didn’t even tell you she was still smoking, did she? Probably told you she’d quit just so you and Dana would drop it.”

Kate didn’t respond, but Max could tell she was hurt. Victoria had hit pretty close to the truth. Max had told Dana that she quit — that it was just a one time thing on the night of the Halloween dance. She’d never told Kate she was smoking. Instead she’d taken to sneaking cigarettes behind the West Annex building to the north of the gym/natatorium. It stayed pretty isolated on that side of campus. Otherwise, she kept her smoking to late night, lonely corners of the quad or out about town, when she was on her own.

Too late now. Only way to fix this would be a rewind, and bad as things seemed, Max was still convinced as ever to hold to her promise. There were no second chances any more.

“I’m sorry, Kate. It helps, okay. You know why. Same reason as the clothes, I guess.”

Kate nodded along, but Max could tell she still didn’t approve.

“Oh God, the fucking clothes.” Victoria rolled her eyes.

Taylor, however, actually rose to Max’s defense much to her surprise, setting a hand on Victoria’s shoulder. “V, maybe ease up on this one.”

Victoria shrugged off Taylor’s hand. “Whatever. I may not get this Chloe worship you have,” she raised her hands in defense as she continued, “but no matter your reasons, that excuse is getting weak. Just drop the faux punk act — you’re barely there as is, just a hipster with a cigarette and a weird bracelet. Then get your ass in gear and take the damn shot.”

Max shut her eyes.

“Always take the shot. My number one rule in photography.” 

That voice slithered into her subconscious, coiling around her. Max could feel her arm trembling and she let her messenger bag drop from her shoulder as she grabbed her arm once more in front of her, as if to steady the building tremor.

“It’s not that easy,” she said, again — wanting, needing Victoria to leave her alone.

“Sure it is,” Victoria said, kneeling down and gathering up Max’s messenger bag from the ground at her feet, where it had spilled half its contents out into the dirt, including a batch of old Polaroids, Max’s original camera (she kept William’s secure in her room now), and another pack of cigarettes. Victoria confiscated the second pack of cigarettes, then grabbed Max’s camera.

“Hey!” Max reached out for her camera, but Victoria ignored her, turning her back on Max, and scanning the little stretch of lawn between the main building and the wall to the breezeway.

“Come on, Tory.” Kate stepped up towards the queen bee, Victoria still focused on the green space in their isolated nook. “Please give her back her camera.”

“Maybe she’s right, V. You’ve made your  point.” Taylor still picked at the hem of her shirt, and she tapped her foot nervously in the grass as she looked about for any sign of other students.

“We could do to plan some for the End of the Year party. Or maybe even the New Year’s Blast?” Courtney chimed in.

Max said nothing. She could still feel the tremor in her arm and hear the soft echo of those words, his words, still whispering in her ear.

Victoria ignored them all, suddenly stopping and peering into the viewfinder.

“See there, a squirrel. You always liked your nature shots, Max.” She snapped the shot, and the flash lit a firework over the moment.

Max didn’t hear her. Instead she heard the click of the camera, a different camera, as Victoria snapped her shot of the squirrel. She was speaking, but Max didn’t hear her words. She heard a different voice, an angry voice, bubbling up from a past that never was.

“Oh, Max! You fucked up my shot!”

She cowered into herself. She could feel the tape on her wrists and ankles. She leaned back against the bricks of Blackwell, uncertain if she could stand, as that voice kept speaking.

“But please don’t worry, we have all the time in the world. For now.”

“No,” she muttered. Not this again. It was all auditory and touch. Visually she was still very much at Blackwell, but the borders between the school and that room were blurring. “No, no.”

“Yeah, Max. You did. You took a shit ton of nature shots.” Victoria said, oblivious of the other world now terrorizing the smaller girl. “We may not be best buds, but your choice of subject was always very clear. Nature. Hope and loss and other artsy shit. And selfies. Lots of selfies.”

“I knew you were special the second I saw your first… selfie.”  The disdain dripped from his voice with every word. She could feel him there, looming over her, and hear the clicking of his camera with each snap of the shutter. In fact, she could almost see him standing there, a spectral vision invading the cold December day.

“Yes, I still hate that word.” He continued. “But I love the purity of your own image.”

Max felt filthy. She scrubbed at her arms, trying to rid herself of any evidence of that man, any trace that he had ever touched her, bound her, posed her.

“See, Max.” Victoria still droned on somewhere off in front of her, but Max paid her no further mind. Kate was beside Victoria. She was saying something. Trying to talk her down. Max couldn’t tell.

“She stays like this,” Victoria blurted out, “and we might as well just pack her bags. Look, Max. An abandoned bird’s nest on a barren branch. The way the light is shining right through those twigs. That’s your type of shot, isn’t it? Here.”

Suddenly Max could feel the plastic of the shutter release beneath her finger, as Victoria lifted her hand to the camera. “Just point and click.” Victoria lined up the shot, and pushed down on Max’s finger, triggering the shutter release.

FLASH!

“Max, please do not move so much. I need you posed and framed my way!”

She could sense him hovering over her; feel his anger rolling across her prone form.

“Maybe a new dose will calm you down…”

His footsteps were retreating, but Max knew what was coming.

“No, no, no…” she mumbled. She couldn’t seem to find her voice.

“Yeah, it’s not that great of a shot. Not quite lined up right. Here, try again.”

Taylor placed a hand on Victoria’s shoulder. “I think… I think that’s enough, V. You’ve made your point.” Glancing about, Taylor appeared to be searching for something or someone, her gaze constantly shifting as she worried at her hem.

Victoria grabbed Max’s hand, again. Max could feel it there, Victoria’s hand shifting her own. Victoria’s hand? His hand? His hand was on hers, shifting her, posing her. She could feel the shutter release once more.

“Victoria, listen to Taylor. It’s time to stop,” Kate pleaded, somewhere beyond Max’s line of sight. Keep trying, Kate. He can’t break you. You’re stronger than ever and you’ll outlive him. 

Max’s hand was being shifted, the familiar feel of the Polaroid camera cold against her palms. Then there was that pressure, her finger being pushed down on the shutter release once more. “See, Max, it’s easy.”

FLASH!

Suddenly Max could hear Kate retreating, running off towards the quad. Keep going, Kate. Keep running. You leave him behind. Far, far behind.

“She’ll certainly outlive you.” That voice was so calm, with just the slightest hint of venom betraying the vile nature of the speaker. “Who knows?” Jefferson continued. “Maybe I’ll pay Kate a visit soon and test her faith again…”

“You will not get away with this. I want you to know that.” Max pulled at her wrists, but she could feel the tape binding them to that invisible chair, that prison of memory.

“Fuck.” Victoria shook her head. “Drama queen much? Nature not your thing, today?”

“Jesus.” Taylor pushed her own now trembling hands into her face. “I thought we were done with this shit.”

“It’s for her own good,” Victoria replied, but Taylor didn’t appear to be paying her any mind. She turned, locking onto Courtney.

“Go help, Kate.”

“Huh,” Courtney stared back at Taylor confused.

“Just go find Dana or someone.”

By this point, Victoria was ignoring her minion completely. Behind her Courtney has already begun retreating, but Victoria had returned her focus to Max, turning the camera around in Max’s hand.

Max paid her no mind. She had long since stopped focusing on the present moment.

The school’s queen bee used the viewfinder to line up the shot, framing Max’s face. If Max could have deciphered past from present in that moment, if she could have actually perceived any nuance of what was happening around her, she might have caught the faintest glimmer of worry as Victoria framed up her face, but Victoria didn’t let it bother her for long. “Maybe you just need your trademark angle.”

Her finger pressed down ( was pressed down ) on the shutter release. The camera clicked, the flash exploding. The world went white, a blast of overexposure blinding out all else. The visual world vanished. Sound stopped. Time stood still…

Time stood still.

She couldn’t see it; she couldn’t see the world around her, nor could she hear it, but she could feel it, still and unmoving: everything and everyone frozen in a moment. His voice rose up once more…

“I could frame any one of you in a dark corner and capture you in a moment of desperation.”

Max gasped and the gears of the universe turned once more. The world returned to focus, sound fading up from that muted oblivion.

She was back. She was home.

She was in the Dark Room.