Somewhere along the way of trying to hide herself into the shadows of the hallway and trying to make her way to class, Max finds herself having to constantly step over red yarn. Another stupid prank, she figures, but she can't help but to notice that the red string only multiplies in number as she tries to step over every strand. It's like a web; a web of annoying red yarn.
Okay, Max, try not to get stuck in this. In her mind it sounds easy. All she has to do is step over it; not on, stepping on it would be a bad idea. It's like a laser field in every spy movie every, right? No big deal. No problem. Nothing to be wo—
"Look at Max, she looks insane. Do you need to pee or something, Caulfield?" Victoria's voice breaks her concentration, she falters, stepping on a strand of red string.
Max's world floods into white, the halls of the school fly past her. She feels like she's traveling in hyperspace, except it's white, not black, and she has no clue where she's going.
In what feels like seconds, Max finds herself in front of a boy, attired in a blue hoodie and a black hat. Thankfully, it's not a stranger.
"Trevor!" She calls, but the boy doesn't respond, he doesn't even notice her.
Max takes a moment to look around; her scenery looks like the courtyard but she can tell something is wrong. The sky is white, and everythingbutTrevor and the bright red string tied to his finger is blurry.
Okay, Max reasons with herself, I'm dreaming.
She waves her hand in front of Trevors's face, he doesn't move or even look up. Instead, he sighs, deep and melancholic. Max can't quite place the look on his face. She's never seen anything like it before, well, not in real life that is. Though, she doesn't really think this is real life anyway.
In the end, she decides to focus her attention to the string on his finger, the very same that was once all over the floor, threatening Max's trip to class—before literally making her trip. She picks up the string; it illuminates a path inside the school. Knowing no better, Max follows the path, surprised to find that Dana, a tall blonde in her dorm, is at the end of it.
Max remembers reading this in a manga, or a manhwa, or some East-Asian comic; a string that connects soul-mates, right? Tied on every pinky but invisible to the human eye.
But what does this have to do with her? And why is Dana attached to Trevor? It makes no sense, especially considering Dana has her arms around Logan, a jock with probably less than half a brain. Then, the string burns in Max's hand, not a painful burn, but an alerting one. She noticed that though the string is attached to Dana, there is a small gap where the knot on her finger should connect to the rest of the string, like someone erased it.
And somehow, like Max knew what to do all along, she touches the spot, connecting Dana to the string. In an instant, the world turns white again and Dana and Trevor are the only ones she can see. They are on opposite parts of the school, but here they look like the only ones in the world; connected. Trevor looks up, catching Dana's eyes, the two smile and Max's world floods back into the hall where she stood before. Victoria is standing in front of her, arms crossed and face twisted into a scowl.
"Ground control to major loser, you can stop trying to pretend like I'm not in front of you, Max. Weirdo. Do you have a condition or something?"
Max snaps her head to Victoria, then around her; the string is gone, in its place though are red string rings around the pinkies of people around her. Here or there, there is the odd string on the ground, leading to who knows where.
"Victoria," Max points to one of the strings, "Do you see that?"
Victoria turns, humoring Max, "Am I supposed to see anything besides tile and how crazy you are? Mad Max indeed."
And then Max realizes that this is something she has to do by herself.
Days pass and the power doesn't become any clearer to Max. However, she does realize that there is a purpose to it. After connecting Dana to Trevor, she noticed an instant change in both of them. They're happier alone and with each other. Not long after the dream-like incident, Dana had dumped Logan, finding that she was in fact a much better match for Trevor. The world seemed brighter—happier—though that was probably not true. And it didn't stop there, Max had accidentally stepped on a few more strings, forcing her to connect other lovers to each other. No paring she made had turned out bad, and if Max didn't know any better, she'd say that they really were soulmates.
But that couldn't be right, right? That would make her cupid, and Max was sure that a virgin and romantically inexperienced girl as cupid was the plot of a horrible rom-com, not her life. Yet, here she was.
And it was the only explanation that made any amount of sense. It did help that every person she matched up seemed to like her more too, as if they knew what she did.
And somewhere along the way of trying to hide in the shadows and trying to go to class she notices something a little off-putting; she doesn't have a string of her own.
Max never fancied herself as much of a romantic, but she'd be lying to herself if she said never thought about having a soulmate for herself. What a bummer. Did this mean she was never meant to be with anyone? She'd be lying to herself if she said the thought didn't depress her.
Maybe Cupids didn't get lovers? Oh well, Max told herself. She'd deal.
Somehow.
Somewhere along the way of trying to hide, and trying to get to class, she spots Victoria staring longingly at a poster for the upcoming Valentine's day dance. Max realizes that, of course, when pairing up the rest of the school, she had forgotten about Victoria. Not that she wanted to remember Victoria anyway. Now that most of the school was paired up, if not romantically then platonically, it was hard to imagine there being anyone for Victoria.
But the sad, lovelorn look on Victoria's face told Max that she should at least try. Okay, here goes nothing. Or everything, really. Max sighed, wondering why this responsibility fell to her.
"Hey, Victoria."
The blonde snapped to her, there was an anger, not at seeing Max, but at being seen like this. "What do you want, hipster?"
"D-do you need a date for the dance?" Max blushes, kicking the ground in an attempt to calm down. Why did Victoria have to be so pretty? Angular face, bright blue eyes and striking blonde hair. Pretty girls always made Max nervous, reminded her how ugly she felt.
Victoria raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at Max, a confused scowl taking over her face. "Why? Are you asking me? No thanks."
Max's eyes fall to Victoria's fingers, there's a ring there, but no string dangling down. Had she not found her match yet? Max didn't know what it meant, not that she knew what much of anything meant.
"No reason," Max deflected, "Hey, what's your type? Like of person?"
"Tall, tan and handsome? Not you at least." Victoria scoffs; walking away with a huff but not before Max quickly brushes her hand, starting a string from the ring on her pinky. The string forms magically, another power Max learned she had.
She runs to find the first tall, tan and handsome person that isn't attached to someone else. It doesn't prove too difficult, and Max finds someone on the swim team that looks like he fits Victoria's standards. She reaches out to attach the string to him, but it shrivels in her hand, a sign she learned to mean that the gender wasn't right. Max didn't judge Victoria for it; it wasn't like she was any different anyway.
So Max ran to the nearest tall, tan and attractive woman; someone on the volleyball team. The string connects, and Max watches as the girl moves to talk to Victoria, suddenly, though, the string snaps. A sign Max had learned to mean that the match wasn't mean to be. The string fades away, and Max makes another one connected to Victoria.
It's the middle of the night when Max notices that she's tried every girl in Arcadia. She's had every string snap, shrivel, or turn into ash. Confused, defeated, and out of energy, she falls on to Chloe's bed, face first.
Because, of course, somewhere along the way of playing matchmaker and looking like an idiot, she stopped to tell her best friend about her freaky power.
"Maybe it's just because Victoria is such a mega bitch, that no one can lover her?" Chloe pats Max's back, "There, there. At least you have the rest of Arcadia hooking up. Minus me. Where's my magic anyway?"
"I told you before," Max mumbles into the sheets of Chloe's bed, "There's a string but I can't follow it to anyone. It just needs to wait out a bit, maybe. I don't know."
Max flips herself, Victoria's string still in her hand. She glances at Chloe and sits up, a devilish grin on her face.
"No, no." Chloe jumped from the bed. "No way. No freaking way."
"At least let me try," Max pouted, causing Chloe to sigh. There was no fighting this, the blue-haired girl knew that and she nodded in defeat.
Max attached the string to Chloe, there were two coming off of her pinky, but neither snapped. Max lit up, for a reason she couldn't quite place, she was glad to know that Victoria would be happy now…even if it was with Chloe. Though, there's a pang of sadness in her, Max can only rationalize it as the disgust of having to tie her best friend to her worst enemy.
Unfortunately, the string snapped, snaking back into Max's hand.
Chloe worriedly shot Max a glance, rubbing the back of her head. "Did it work? Is my life ruined?"
Max frowned, "No…"
She falls back onto the bed, with a sigh. She didn't have that much time, and desperate times called for desperate methods.
"Hi…Victoria.." Max gulped, she could barely believe that she was hovering over Victoria's lunch circle; Taylor and Courtney huddled against a tree.
Victoria rolled her eyes, ignoring Max and continuing her conversation. Over the course of a few days, she'd gotten friendly with Taylor and Courtney but never to Victoria herself.
"C-can I uh…sit with you?" Max is sure she's sweating enough to fill an ocean or two, which is a disgusting image by itself. She can feel her hands shaking even thought they're jammed into her tight jeans pockets.
Taylor looks up at Max, she smiles gently, like a mother would. She taps the spot beside her and urges Max to sit down, which she does.
"Um, Hello, Taylor. What. Are. You. Doing?" Victoria grips the grass she's sitting on, Max swears she can see her pull out a few blades.
"Come on, Max is cool."
And then, somehow, this ends up being a ritual for Max. She sits with Victoria, Taylor and Courtney at lunch. Though, Victoria never acknowledges Max, the young brunette takes comfort in the fact that at least Taylor and Courtney do. At the very least, Max notices that Victoria seems to warm up to the idea of her there a little each day.
Max's plan was to learn more about Victoria, something that would help lead her to the perfect match for the self-proclaimed queen. Instead, she ends up learning more about everyone else. How Juliet custom orders her toilet paper, how Nathan sleeps with three teddy bears, how Justin reads 'skateboarding for dummies'; nothing that told Max that there was someone out there for Victoria. Something that meant the tears that Victoria sheds when no one is looking can be mended, that for once, there can be some happiness in her life.
Max begins to wonder if maybe Chloe was right and she isn't sure what hurts more; knowing all her work is for nothing or knowing she can't be the one to make Victoria happy.
Max wants to learn things about Victoria from the blonde's own mouth. Instead, she picks up bits and pieces from her observations. And somewhere along the way, something changed.
Or maybe it'd always been that way.
A few weeks before the dance, Max finds herself alone with Victoria during lunch. Then, she learns a pain greater than failure.
"What are you doing here, Max?" Victoria looks nervous, the courtyard is empty save for them and Victoria doesn't like the thought of it. Of being alone with Max and having to face herself.
Max sits without a word, for once, she's actually nervous about this. Watching Victoria for days, she's learned more about the blonde than she ever thought she would. Regretfully, she realized that she's come to feel close to Victoria. She wondered why no one could love her when there was so much there? There was a deep insecurity behund an unwavering resolve. Victoria was complex, and Max came to realize all the parts of her that made her good, just as well as the parts that made her bad. And oh, how she regretted that. Regretting knowing Victoria so intimately in the recesses of her mind.
Of course, most of that regret came from the fact the feelings of curiosity obviously weren't reciprocated. How fun.
Max figured that if there was a string between them, it would be tangled, knotted in places it shouldn't be. When you finally work all the kinks out, you'd find that the string was never attached in the first place. Max guesses that's what their string must look like, it's the only thing that justifies everything Max has been through these few days. All the strange twisting in her stomach; the fluttering, the sinking, the flushing of her face.
The two don't say anything, they don't know what to say. Victoria looks at Max, Max looks at Victoria, and they look away, then back at each other. The silly game continues for minutes, neither of them truly knowing how to act.
"Earlier," Victoria starts, sick of the silence between them, "You asked what my type was, of person."
Max cringes; half because it was a stupid thing to ask and then because she doesn't want to hear the answer. She knows now that she doesn't want to do this anymore. This whatever-you-call-it with Victoria. This sitting there and having to listen to Victoria and pretend like she doesn't care, like she doesn't want to throw her arms around the girl and make everything okay. She knows what Victoria is going to say, and she knows the answer isn't going to be what she wants to hear. It isn't going to be her.
Oh, Max gulps, how she wants the answer to be her.
Because somewhere along the way of trying to hide herself and try not to get hurt she ended up throwing caution to the wind, throwing herself mercilessly at Victoria with the desire of befriending her, of getting to know more. And somewhere along the way of being tossed aside by the aforementioned girl and picking herself back up, she realized something, the last thing she wanted to realize; she was in love, and not with just anyone, with Victoria freaking Chase.
How sick this world was. That not only was it someone so obviously out of her league but Max knew what loves were meant to be and what weren't. And, oh, how she knew that the lack of a sting on her own finger meant that this (whatever it was) wasn't meant to be.
And she was sure it was the worst pain in the world. To love only to never be loved back. Humans are selfish, Max mused, she knew she was no different.
"I've thought about it a lot. In truth, I had never thought about it before." Victoria pauses, what for, Max doesn't know.
Max clenches her teeth, she prays fast and silently. She isn't religious, but she's willing to start if it'll stop the words Victoria is about to say.
"I'm sorry." Is what Victoria says, Max is still tense, but she manages a look up to Victoria.
"I've been so horrible to you and I couldn't figure out why for the longest time. I've been taking out my insecurities out on you. It made me realize that the type of person I like is--"
"Stop." Max stands, huffing and crying over the sitting body of Victoria. She doesn't really hear what Victoria is saying, the pounding of her heart busting through her ears. "Don't…say it.." It was meant to come out strong, like a command that she was sure Victoria didn't hear often, instead it came out a meek whisper against the cold, spring air.
Victoria stood up, maneuvering her head so she could look into Max's tear-filled eyes that were fixed on the ground.
"I'm sorry," Max mumbled.
"Don't be weird. You have nothing to be sorry for. Now stop crying, you're creeping me out."
Victoria reaches a hand out to touch Max's arm, to comfort the shaking brunette. In response, Max pulls away. Bolting away to the girl's dorm, Max locks herself in her room, wishing she had time-control powers instead of relationship controlling ones.
The next few days are the worst in Max's life. For once, Victoria isn't mean, instead, she's concerned like any friend would be but it's the last thing Max wants. She wants to be alone, she wants to forget all about Victoria Chase and most of all she wanted to shrink away in some corner and simply cease to exist.
Max finds herself actively avoiding Victoria, turning the opposite way when she sees the blonde walking towards her. Max has even gone so far as to run away from her. It's obvious what she's doing, but she doesn't care. The school year is over in a few months anyway, she can forget all about this then.
In the end, Max couldn't find a match for Victoria, her bitter love life made her want to cut all the strings she'd attached before. She didn't, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't seriously consider it. Anything to make her feel like she had worth again, not that she ever thought she had much to begin with.
And then, like a cruel turn of fate, Max finds herself in the middle of the Valentine's day party. Like most important parties at the school, it's Vortex club funded, and like most parties in general, Max wished she could leave.
But this was her fault after all. Her lovelorn attitude had Mr. Jefferson worried, and in his attempt to help, he forced her to come to the dance, he even encouraged that she take some of the alcohol that he wasn't officially confirming will be there. Max wasn't sure in what way he thought he might be helping, maybe he thought that since everyone in school seemed to have a date, that Max would too.
How ironic, that everyone was here, having a good time, because of her and she couldn't even find the strength to move from her spot in the corner of the gym. Maybe she should go hide in the bathroom? She figured it would be a better spot than the corner, which offered great view of all the happy, in-love couples around.
Entering the washroom, Max was happy to find that it was empty. Of course it was, it was slow dance time, everyone was slow dancing. Well, everyone but her.
But what did that matter to her really? It just meant that Max got a whole washroom to herself. How great.
She found a stall, entered it, locked the door, pushed the seat cover down, sat on it, pulled her legs up to her chest and wept like she wanted to empty her body of all the water that filled it.
How freaking great.
A door opened and then shut. The stall next to her opened and then shut. Max didn't bother to mask her tears, they couldn't be heard over the music anyway.
And like a cruel twist of fate, just as this dance was, it just so happened that the stall next to her was occupied for reasons unbefitting of a school bathroom. A bra slid under the stall wall and into Max's stall, she could hear their moans even over the music and her sobs.
It was, of course, just her luck. Flushed, Max wiped her tears away and opened the stall door. Like an even more cruel twist of fate, waiting right outside the stall was Victoria Chase herself, with her arms crossed as she leaned against the cream colored brick wall.
Just great.
Max's mind flooded with possible escape plans; oh, how she wished she ate something so she could throw it up onto Victoria and then run away.
Victoria, unfortunately, was going to have none of it. In one fluid motion, she gripped Max and forced her back into the stall. In another motion, she locked the stall door.
It didn't matter that moans distracted them from any viable conversation, Victoria was going to make it work, and when Victoria decided on something, she was going to make it happen.
"Listen, if you want to go, fine, but you are going to stop running away from your problems and tell me what the hell I did."
Max tried to move back but her legs hit the toilet, tripping her backward. Victoria reached out, gripping Max and pinning her against the stall wall. With her arms on either side of Max, the brunette knew there was no escape, not from this.
"Max, listen, please." Victoria's voice waved, as her face fell into a frown. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, but Victoria ignored them. She wasn't going to avoid this, not like Max had been.
Max looked to her side at Victoria's finger, she had to hold back a screech. There it was; the thing Max dreaded to see. The red ring on Victoria's pinky now featured a small string at the end of it, Victoria could be with her match now. The string faded on the end, but Max knew if she reached out and touched it, it would lead to the lucky one.
Max closed her eyes, partly to fight tears and partly so she wouldn't have to look Victoria in the eyes.
"Fine," Victoria began, not liking that Max refused to look at her but knowing there was nothing she could do about it, "Just listen to me then. Please."
Victoria breathed in, happy that the couple in the other stall had stopped but unhappy that sappy love songs still flooded into the bathroom.
"I don't know what I did, Max. At least when I hate people, I let them know why." Victoria tried to laugh, but it came out as a croak. "Did Taylor tell you? Are you weirded out? Fine. But you should know it's true, and I'm sorry that I can't help it. I'm sorry, Max, I am. I've been alone for so long but you made it different and I thought that maybe I could have…we could have….but…..Maybe in another universe it would have worked but I ruined it, right? I ruined it…"
Victoria's hands fell, and now it was the blonde's turn to cry. Max gulped, realizing she had been selfish for so long, wanting only to be able to wallow in her sadness. She wasn't given this power for herself, it was for others, and here was Victoria Chase, sad and in front of her and she had the chance to help. It was what she wanted in the first place. Who was she to deny Victoria Chase her happy ending?
"Your type," Max began, slowly, still afraid of the answer, "What kind of person is it?"
"A waif hipster bullshit kind of person, kind, does whatever they want. Small, cute. Dorky deer pun shirts."
Max looked up, meeting Victoria's eyes and trying to search them for some lie, anything that would help calm her heart. Instead, she founds a look of pure love; a soft smile and a cautious heart hidden under teary eyes. A look that said, "I'm okay with giving you my everything." And another that said, "It's okay if you hurt me."
Max gulped, "You mean…me?"
Victoria nodded, smiling at the way Max's eyes lit up. Pushing her up against the stall wall again, she brought her knee up between Max's legs and lowered her face to the other girl's, letting their noses touch gently.
"Now, are you going to kiss me, or do I have to spell that out for you too?"
In a moment, Max's lips were against Victoria's. It was gentle, it was passionate, it was everything at once. It was everything Max needed. Max arched her back, pushing herself further into Victoria. They broke apart to breathe, a string of saliva connecting them. It wasn't red string, but Max would take it, she closed the distance between their lips again, eager to make up for all the pain.
Victoria's hand found its way up Max's shirt, the blonde reveled in the way Max's soft skin felt against her palm and she began to wonder what her tongue would feel like on it.
And somehow, those two had ended up being the annoying couple in the bathroom stall that night.
Months pass, and somewhere along the way of trying to hide her happiness and trying to enjoy every moment like it might be the last, the two end up in Victoria's room. There's no secret here, the two are a couple and everyone knows it, so, the girls in the dorm play their music extra loud in hopes of not having to hear what might be happening between them.
Of course, even after days and even after knowing that she could check at any moment whether they are meant to be or not, Max couldn't work up the courage to touch Victoria's string, scared of where it might lead.
Victoria notices the glances at her finger, at first, she thinks it's a kinky thing but soon learns that it's nothing like that. Of course, there could only be one explanation for someone staring at their loved one's left hand.
"S-so you asked me to come here, Vic?" Max was on the blonde's bed, the bed she had come to love a lot more than her own, especially since it smelt like Victoria.
"Don't be so nervous, Max. I'm not here to hurt you, do habits really die that hard? Actually, this is a great intro for this…" Victoria turns, pulling out a small, black velvet box from her drawer.
Max pauses, "You know I don't really wear jewelry."
Victoria smirks, sauntering up to Max on the bed, with a hand under her girlfriend's chin, she tilts the brunette's head up to her own. Then, she dips down, pressing a soft, reassuring kiss to her lips.
"You'll wear this," She breathes into the other's ear, loving the way a brush creeps on Max's face.
Slowly, she opens the box, letting two simple red rings reveal themselves to Max; a matching set, just like them.
"You're proposing? Isn't it a bit early for that?" Max tries to laugh away her nervousness, Victoria presses a kiss to the side of her head before pulling back to get down on one knee and look Max in the eyes.
"They're promise rings you dolt, we're going off to college and…and I don't want us to get separated."
Max smiles, falling off the bed to crawl on the ground and kiss Victoria. She sits in front of her, legs crossed and face flushed.
"We don't need rings for that." So Max says, but she bares her hand, urging Victoria to put a ring on her. Victoria obliges with a little laugh, kissing Max's hand as she does. Max likes that it looks like the string she lacks.
"Hmm? You've been staring at my hand like an idiot, I thought you were thinking the same thing as me."
Max flushes, "That's.." Then she pauses, grabbing Victoria's left hand. The string mocks her, urging her to touch it. Scared, Max looks into Victoria's love-filled eyes and knows that even if Victoria is not meant to be with her, it's Max's duty to make sure Victoria ends up happy.
Max touches the string, the world flashes into white, and before her is Victoria. The string in her hand tingles, it isn't complete, but as if by magic, it slowly fades into existence.
The string is tangled, knotted in places it shouldn't be, Max follows it, working out all the kinks. It feels like hours , but she's back in front of Victoria and there's a tug on her finger.
Max looks down, and there, is a ring on her pinky, connecting her right to Victoria.
Max smiles, putting a ring on to Victoria's hand. "We really don't need rings, Victoria." She mumbles, but she figures the rings must be Victoria's version of the string.
And Max just sits there, observing the red string the holding them together, and how it seems to light up the room.
What odd stroke of fate it was that they would be connected to each other after all.
