Yesterday had been a fucking nightmare on so many levels, and Taylor was really looking forward to forgetting it.
Victoria hadn't had a clue why Taylor burst into tears as soon as she got into bed with her, and Taylor wasn't really in a state to explain it to her. Why had she helped Victoria frame Dana? What happened between her and Zach? Was he even okay? Was Juliet going to be okay? What were those clothes? What was that staff? What had he meant when he said she was a witch? And why did it hurt so much that somebody she actively antagonized didn't like her?

Taylor had spent the night in Victoria's bed, doing absolutely no homework and somehow falling even more deeply in love with Victoria although literally all they did was watch Netflix while Taylor curled up on her chest. It was enough to bring some sort of calm, and it lingered on her like the smell from Victoria's bed, although she was pretty sure that was just because she'd borrowed one of Vic's cardigans. So, when Taylor left the dorms to chill by her usual tree(/shrine of misdirected male aggressive sexuality towards Rachel) in the morning, she was doing her very best to just not think about yesterday whatsoever.

Luckily, a distraction was quick to appear.

Warren Graham was standing at the edge of the principal's office, leaning out from behind the wall. As soon as Taylor was out on the steps he ducked back behind the wall, but by the time she'd made it to the tree, he was already checking to see if she was still there. She ignored him, settling down next to the tree and making a point not to look at him at all.

Fucking creep.


"So what's his deal, anyway?"

It was weight training day today, and Rachel, who unlike Taylor could actually use the leg press machine without hurting herself, extended her legs out so she could see Taylor's face again. She cocked her head curiously (as well as could be expected), and asked, "Uh, who?"

Oh, right. "Warren. The kid with the greasy hair who comes in to see Max during photography."

Rachel snorted, and went back to doing the presses. "Okay, yeah. Uh. He really likes obscure movies, but not in like a movie buff way, he just . . . really likes them and gets Max and Chloe to watch them. And he thinks that we're friends just because he hangs out with us sometimes."

"Are you?"

Rachel was quiet except for the panting while she thought on it, then she pushed the weights far enough that they set in place. She shrugged. "I guess. Help me up?"

Taylor reached down to help her stand up after she basically rolled out of it, although she bounced up with such vigor that Taylor couldn't imagine she helped at all. Still, it was worth it to see Rachel shining her bright smile just for her for a moment.
"Thanks bae," she said, releasing Taylor's hand.

Taylor had more to ask, but it got lost. Rachel was pretty magnetic, mesmerizing even, but when she was really close there was no amount of willpower or shame that could make you look away. Her eyes were bright and hazel, and Taylor was thankful for every glance they gave her. When they held her for a moment, though . . . well, luckily Rachel knew never to let them hold you more than a moment.

"That's not really what you were asking about though, is it?" Rachel finally looked away, towards where Logan was doing bench presses (Zach was spotting him, but he hadn't done much today because he 'has a wicked headache, dude'), making her nervous tic to brush away hair that was pulled up.

Taylor copied her, and then said, "Not really, no. I just . . ." How to put it. "Well, like a week or two ago I started noticing him up really early, spying on the girls' dorms from the courtyard. But I mean, I even checked the spot where he stands and you can't see anything. It's just like, people's laptops and potted succulents. So it's not like he's being a pervert."

Taylor had learned long ago that if you talk in a really flat tone and normal volume in a crowded setting, nobody ever picks up what you're saying. It was the exact opposite of Victoria's way of telling secrets - secluding yourself but talking so loudly and clearly, so everyone was sure to here - and much, much more effective at actual secret-keeping. Rachel wasn't quite so good at it, but she rarely seemed to care if people overheard her.
They made their way to one of those leg-weight arm-pressing things. As Taylor sat down, making no effort to even appear that she was doing exercise, Rachel responded, "Well, no, I think he's definitely being a pervert, just not the kind you're used to. He's not looking for girls' tits. He's looking for girls with bedhead and no makeup. It's really a thing for some guys to see girls be . . . vulnerable, I think."

Taylor didn't get it, but it made her feel gross anyway. "That doesn't make any sense." She started making a feeble effort to pull in the machine's arms, finding it completely immobile.

"Uhh, hang on. Somebody left it at sixty."

After Rachel adjusted the weight to twenty, she said, "I mean, I'm not sure you're even capable of thinking like a perverted boy. You're so . . . wholesome."

Taylor gave her a heavy-lidded glare. Deadpan, Taylor said, "Is that some kind of backhanded compliment?" Taylor was used to those from Victoria when she wanted to push them into doing something stupid.

Rachel rolled her eyes, though. "No, no no no. I just mean, like. I don't know. You've got this like, reverence in you for girls. I don't think guys have that. Not like you."

Rachel was looking down at Taylor again while she pulled her fatigued arms together over and over, and her eyes seemed to trace so clearly up Taylor's body it was like there was a tingle crawling up her. By the time Rachel looked her in the eye, Taylor was blushing, she knew it, but exercise always made her red, so nobody would notice. Would they?

Reverence. Taylor was so used to only hearing that word used in church. It made her feel like her love for women was idolatrous on top of being abominable.
She liked it.


"So, I have this question."

They were in the locker rooms now, back to having Taylor's locker door between their faces. Taylor was already dressed again, but Rachel took forever as she apparently couldn't talk and change at the same time.

"Okay, Rachel. What's your question?"

"Hold on, just . . . let me finish changing."

"Oh?" Rachel's actually waiting to make something less awkward?

It was Wednesday, which was usually Taylor's favorite day of the week, starting now. Photography lab every week was just a project that you had a whole period to do. The most important part was that you could leave campus, so long as you were back with ten minutes to spare, and you could leave during lunch, too. Taylor and Victoria were planning on heading out to the lighthouse, even if it didn't seem like an ideal spot for the week's exploration of chiaroscuro. It was just Taylor's favorite place, and Victoria could rarely resist indulging Taylor for long.

Taylor closed her locker once Rachel had her shirt on, an expectant look on her face. In place of her usual enthusiastic self, though, Rachel was fidgeting with her earring again, a slight delay between being able to see Taylor and seeming to recognize that she was there.

"Now what's your question?" Taylor asked.

"You know the End of the World Party tomorrow?" Rachel asked, as if it were a sincere question.

Of course I do? We have a party almost every Thursday, there are signs everywhere, and Courtney is the lead organizer for the Vortex Club?
"Yeah."

"Do you want to go with me?" Rachel was doing that super-expressive eyebrow thing where she didn't actually emphasize the word 'go' but quirked her eyebrow up on it, and Taylor did not know what that meant.

Taylor shrugged. "I mean, I was already planning on going. It's a Vortex Club thing and all, and I hear DJ Doom is pretty good."

Most other people had left the locker room by now, and Taylor was itching to leave for the parking lot as quickly as she could. But Rachel wasn't moving to leave just yet.

Rachel shook her head, "No, um. I mean like as a date."

Oh.

Oh my god.

Ohmygodohmygod.

Rachel finally managed to meet Taylor's eyes, or Taylor finally looked her directly in the face, or something happened, but Taylor was looking Rachel right in the eyes again and she was paralyzed while her mind yelled at her Yes please; Yes please; Yes please!; Yes pLEASE!

Taylor swallowed, blinking a few times in an attempt to break the trance. Rachel needed an answer, and Taylor had never wanted to give her one so badly.


"You're going on a date with RACHEL. AMBER?"

Taylor had kind of figured Victoria would react this way. She had always tried to keep her gym class friendship with Rachel quiet, even if Victoria knew it was happening, for the sake of their relationship at least partly based on gossip and slander. It was pretty well established that time with Victoria was Victoria's time, and Taylor was okay with that, but it was going to be way weirder if she showed up with Rachel tomorrow and Victoria didn't already know. After all, what if they were holding hands?(?!)

Taylor bit her lip to make sure she wouldn't smile (or you know, grin) at the question, nodding. "Mmhmm."

The expression on Victoria's face was hilarious, made only better by the huge sunglasses she was wearing and the wind ruffling her hair as they were definitely speeding on the highway. It was some mix of shock, rage, and horror, and they were all so obviously being held on to and tempered as much as Victoria could bear. She also couldn't seem to come up with a follow-up question. "I . . . since when . . . but . . . what? Why?"

Why did she ask me or why did I say yes? I don't have answers to either of those questions.

Taylor shrugged. "It seemed fun, I guess."

Victoria gave a little sigh of disgust, but it seemed like she wasn't going to contest that. Instead, she asked, "Do you even like her?"

Now, that was a surprising question. Victoria usually made a pretty active point to avoid asking about who Taylor liked, because in the past several years the whole endeavor of liking a girl had seemed like a trap. That certainly hadn't changed when Rachel started being more open about being queer, not for Victoria, but for Taylor . . . it had added another fantasy just outside of her reach. Or so, she had thought.

Taylor shrugged again. "I don't know. But I don't really dislike her."

Maybe Victoria was rolling her eyes, Taylor couldn't really tell. "That's not much reason to date someone though, T."

Taylor had intended on not getting pissed off regardless of what Victoria said, just to bite it and keep going. She definitely hadn't expected that that's what would do it.
"Vic, you know that the only person to have ever asked me out was Hayden freshmen year? Back when Courtney still liked him, and when I told him I was a lesbian, he just said he could 'work with that'?"

Victoria nodded, mouth curling down. Guilt? Disgust? It wasn't clear. "Yeah, of course I know that."

Frustration was finally making it into Taylor's voice, though she was trying to keep it down. "Well, yeah! So a girl asked me out. A popular, out one, who nobody's going to make fun of me for going on a date with."

Taylor could tell that stung a little harder than she meant it to. People made fun of Taylor constantly for being Victoria's 'bitch', and the fact that 1) she was a lesbian, 2) Victoria hadn't dated any boys and was believed to be a lesbian, despite pretty clear denial, 3) Victoria had short hair (people honestly thought that Victoria was butch and Taylor was femme because they were fucking blind and stupid) added up to a whole slew of taunting. But they both knew people would treat them both better if it even appeared Taylor had a girlfriend. Other than Victoria, of course.

They pulled into the beach parking lot at the start to the trail up to the lighthouse, and Victoria parked and shut off the car before responding. She sighed, pushed up her glasses, and rubbed her eyes. "Fine, whatever. I'll play nice for an evening. I'll probably just get drunk and listen to the music anyway."

Taylor doubted that. Vortex Club parties were prime hunting ground for Victoria's politics and plots, and she almost never rested as long as one was going on. Still, she'd take the offer. "Thanks, Vic. I love you."

Victoria smirked, pushing Taylor's shoulder as she opened her door. "Love you too, sweet-T. Now come on, we've got lab."

Taylor groaned, but got out of the car anyway.


Thursday didn't go nearly as well as Wednesday, but what were the odds of any day being better than being asked out by Rachel and getting an hour to spend with Victoria at the light house? But, anyway, Taylor didn't have gym on Thursdays, so when she got out of lunch she found texts from three different people waiting for her.

Courtney: Taylor, IF you have a DATE then I get to DRESS YOU UP. This is a key part of BEST FRIENDSHIP.
Courtney: I've only got like an hour after school before I have to go set up the EotW party so like you'll have to come over right after.

Ugh. Courtney was going to try and get her to dress fashionably for a party, and that meant no long sleeves. Was she trying to ruin the date? Still, Courtney really would ruin the date if Taylor didn't comply.

Rachel: FUCK! i am so so so so sorry i totally forgot about something.
Rachel: i have this thing i have to do with my mom tonight so i cant go to the party, which is our date, im a huge bitch but i swear ill make it up to you like ASAP
Rachel: please forgive me, i am but a humble lion who is useless 19 hours of the day

Fuck. Taylor had been thinking about little else all day. She had been talking about little else all day. Now going to the party sounded lame and stupid and sad.

Taylor: no no it's no problem! ^^ are you free this weekend?
Taylor: i heard there's a drive-in playing planet of the apes this saturday if you like colonial racism justifications.

That was probably the smartest-sounding thing Taylor had ever said to Rachel, so she hoped she wouldn't know that it was an article all over Facebook a few weeks ago.

Rachel: haha i mean i dont but...
Rachel: im actually not free Saturday either :(
Rachel: i could do sunday tho!
Rachel: plz tell me youre free sunday i am a scrub, a deep-sea dwelling crustacean with no concept of light or humanity but i would love to take you out sunday

God, how did Rachel manage to both massively disappoint Taylor and also make her smile within the span of ten seconds?

Taylor: oh let me check my very-busy calender

She switched over to her Clock app, set the timer to three minutes, and checked her other message in the meantime.

Dana: Hey, Taylor, could you do me a small, very small favor and ask Courtney to pull Logan off the VIP list for the party tonight?

That's not a small favor.

Taylor: that's actually not a small favor but also sure? Why tho?

Dana: It's kind of a long story but he's kind of been following me around, putting notes in my locker and kind of stalker shit like that. I just really want to be able to go with Justin in peace and I think he'll make that possible.

Taylor: Oh wow.

The timer went off, but this seemed kind of important.

Taylor: yeah i'll ask her. i can't really guarantee anything because she's like the guest czar but yeah
Taylor: i'm really sorry he's being such a creep. i hate guys like that

Dana took a while to do replies, even if it was lunch time, so Taylor tapped back to Rachel.

Taylor: oh wow it looks like i'm super free every sunday ever since i cursed god like Job's heretic wife and began practicing homosexuality
Taylor: so how about you come up with a date, buy me ice cream, and i will forgive you

Rachel: deal
Rachel: thank you for unburdening me from sin

Taylor: my pleasure

Oh my fucking god I'm flirting! This is happening!

But before she forgot, Courtney needed to know about this stuff.

Taylor: hey courtney, so two things. one is that Rachel can't go to the party tonight, so no date, so no dress up. sorry
Taylor: two, dana asked if you would pull Logan from the VC VIP list. apparently he's acting like a total creep lately and she wants to chill with her new bf(?)

Courtney: I mean sure. It's not like I enjoy watching an enormous jock get drunk every week as we foot the bill.

Taylor: okay but the Prescotts are paying for this one

Courtney: Okay, yeah, sure, technically true. But I'm fine kicking Logan out so Dana can chill. Maybe she'll chill Juliet out, too.

Taylor: yeah maybe

Dana had definitely replied by now. Also Taylor definitely should have been getting ready for third period by now, but instead she kept laying in bed, just happy to be out of the sun. It had been so damn hot lately.

Dana: I don't hate him I just... can't deal with him right now.
Dana: Thanks, though. I owe you one.
Dana: Or two now, I guess.

Taylor: you don't owe me anything.
Taylor: but i've got you. Logan's out, you're in

Dana: Thank god. Okay. Great.
Dana: I'll see you at the party, right?

Yeah, the super-lame, no-Rachel-dancing party with an expensive DJ and far too many shirtless boys.

Taylor: duh

Dana: Cool. I'll see you there, then.

Were the two of them friends? It was impossible for Taylor to tell. If anything, the past two days had taught her that she had a pretty poor understanding of her relationships with some people.


Taylor arrived late to the party (as she usually did) and was a little high already (as she usually was). Actually, no, she was pretty high this time in hopes that she'd still have fun despite the fact that Rachel wasn't there.

It was pretty bright in the school pool, especially near the DJ's stage where Taylor was dancing, which felt weird when almost all of the lights were placed on the ground. It gave everyone's faces, and the building itself, a pretty spooky vibe, drenched in this red light that seemed to miss everybody's eyes. Hayden seemed to be making the most of it, having dragged in several couches just inside the VIP area, now amusing himself and a few stoned girls with smoke tricks. Jefferson was supposed to be coming to the party later, and yet Hayden and basically everyone else was making no effort to hide their drug paraphernalia, nevermind the mock concession stand giving out shots in solo cups. Everyone seemed to just be banking on Jefferson being the coolest fucking teacher, maybe getting stoned with the kids after he made his Everyday Heroes Contest announcement. Why the fuck he was announcing it at the End of the World party instead of in class was beyond her, but she'd mind her own business if he'd mind his.

About an hour after Taylor arrived, it became very clear that Taylor wasn't going to get to dance with anyone. Zach had showed up just a little after her, and Victoria had been quick to chat him up. Juliet had been hanging out with Dana and Trevor before that point, apparently making the best of being a third wheel, but once she saw Victoria and Zach together she bailed out the side exit, right next to Taylor. Dana had gone after her (sparing only the time to glare daggers at Victoria and make Taylor very happy she wasn't with them right now), and when she came back, she just sat down on the couch with Justin, and the two of them were talking. Just . . . talking, like Victoria was with Zach.

Boring.

And so it was that Taylor found herself dancing all alone in the corner until Logan showed up.

It was so casual, his appearance, that even after she saw him Taylor thought nothing of it. No, it was instead Taylor's frequent check-up on Dana that reminded her that this was bad, as she stood up suddenly, Trevor a second later. Logan was making a beeline towards them.

Do something do something do something!

"Hey bro! You're late dude, thought you weren't coming." Somehow, Zach made himself Dana's savior and stepped in Logan's path.

Victoria looked annoyed at having been interrupted, but her composure smoothed out quickly. She was so good at that. Taylor couldn't hear anything she was saying, but Logan quickly seemed distracted from his earlier goal and stayed to talk.

The side door opened (it squeaked so loudly whenever it did), and Taylor turned around to see if Juliet had come back. Instead, though, Mr. Jefferson came through the door, in a suit, as if he were teaching a class instead of attending what was basically the lamest rave in the world at a school pool. Taylor looked away (talking to him cross-faded sounded capital 'b' Bad), noticing that Dana was making shifting glances between Logan, Trevor, and now Mr. Jefferson. She was probably trying to weigh how likely it was that Jefferson would interrupt if Logan got belligerent or tried to start a fight.

As if just trying to prove how cool he was, Jefferson took a bemused look around at the party - the kids with bongs on their laps, the literal hundreds of solo cups, the shower curtain separating the VIP section from everyone else, River so drunk she was asleep on the couch - and then went to go chat with Hayden and the girls with him.

Dana was still hesitating, though she looked more frustrated now. Logan had started to turn his head every few seconds to check up on Dana as well, and that made Taylor nervous.

Victoria stepped away from the boys to go grab drinks, and Taylor saw her opportunity. Just as it looked like Logan was about to go talk to Dana, Taylor reached up and tapped him on the shoulder. He barely seemed to notice, but after a second he finally turned around.

"Yo, Taylor! What's up? You ready to twerk?"

Taylor's lip curled in disgust. "What? Ew, no." Come on now, it's 'You're not supposed to be here. "You're not supposed to be here."

His expression said 'what the fuck are you talking about', and he said, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You're not on the VIP list. You're not invited. You should leave."

Victoria was back with drinks, and Dana was starting to stare, confused.

Victoria, oblivious to the hostile stance Logan had suddenly adopted and Zach's utter confusion, returned with drinks and said, "Oh, hey T. What's up?" She offered out one of the cups to Logan, but he ignored her.

"No, I'm on the list," Logan said, towering over Taylor. She took a step back despite herself. "I don't know what Courtney fucked up, but I'm in the Vortex Club. Of course I'm invited."

Victoria now seemed in on everyone else's confusion. "Wait, what? Why are you not on the list?"

"I am," he whined, finally taking his eyes off of Taylor. "Courtney just screwed it up."

Victoria's bitchy, summarize-all-of-your-flaws-like-it's-nothing voice started to kick in, "So you're saying you're not on the list."
Taylor had rarely felt so glad at how quick Victoria was to shit on someone, given the opportunity, but she couldn't take it if they started to gang up on her.

Logan started to look back and forth between them, unsure of how to handle this. "What are you bitches on?"

"Logan." Taylor's voice was so loud, so steady, so authoritative that it startled her, and from the looks of it, everyone else. "I said leave."

She was afraid. She wondered if he could tell that. Something at least seemed to register, because suddenly his pupils expanded, almost fully encompassing his iris. It was freaky though, because when they were so big their edges became uneven and warped.

Logan paused, swallowing visibly. Then, he nodded. "Yeah, I should go."

This only seemed to confuse Zach further, who recoiled at Logan's compliance. "Seriously dude? You're just going to bail?"

Logan nodded. "Yeah, I should leave."
And everyone - Zach, Victoria, Taylor, Dana, Justin, Hayden, Jefferson, even the DJ - just sat there with shocked expressions as Logan turned and walked hurriedly out the side door.

What.

"Ho-ly shit, T. You just made Logan your bitch, up high." Zach raised his hand for a high five.

Fuck you, Zach.

Taylor was trembling, and her face felt hot from shame. She didn't know why, but the fact that Logan listened to her - not Victoria, not Dana, not Justin, not Zach or Mr. Jefferson - but her, frightened her. She was small. She was easy to forget. She couldn't convince people of anything, nevermind intimidate 6'2" football players made of 50% muscle 50% beer.

Dana approached the little triangle of Victoria, Zach, and Taylor, and started saying, "Wow, Taylor, that was-"

"I have to go." Taylor put her head down, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

"Taylor, where are you going?" Victoria asked, but she didn't follow as Taylor pushed her way through to the non-VIP portion of the party, ignoring everyone as she skirted the pool, aiming straight for the doors of the lobby.

Just before she reached it, however, a new mic turned on and whined for a second before settling down. Taylor pivoted towards the stage, realizing Mr. Jefferson was the one with the microphone. It must be time for him to announce the winner of the contest. Shit. Taylor couldn't just bail.

"Okay, everybody calm down."

Of course, they did the opposite as everyone started yelling and whistling, making it almost impossible to hear him, nevermind command their attention.

"Thank you, thank you. I appreciate it. I don't want to get in the way of the party, but it's time to announce the winner of the 'Everyday Heroes' contest." Everyone started to quiet down a little as it became clear they weren't going to get through this without a little preamble. "Before I do, I want to thank everybody who entered their photograph this year."

There was a brief pause in which a couple of girls decided to cat call Mr. Jefferson, but after a little bit of nervous laughter, he continued. "Now this is the most important step in being an artist - sharing your work with the world." He gestured out at the crowd, the vast majority of whom probably couldn't care less about this competition. Taylor wasn't even sure why she stayed (yes she did, it was so she could hug Victoria if she won, or text Rachel if she did, and they could share that moment), it's not like she had any stakes in it.

"All of you represent Blackwell Academy and everything our school stands for. As far as I'm concerned, you're all Everyday Heroes."

Something about that brought memories of Tuesday rushing back into Taylor's head, and her anxious laughter filled the near-silence as everyone prepared for his announcement. Nobody seemed to notice her interruption.

Jefferson turned towards the DJ and stuck out his hand. "The envelope, please."
Although he pulled the slip inside out, he didn't even bother to look down at the name on the paper. Why would he? He had been one of the few people in the meeting to decide who would win. "And the winner is . . ." but there, in the dramatic silence, he brought the slip up to his face, reading it carefully. Then, "Oh my, what a shocker . . . Max Caulfield!"

Taylor groaned in disappointment as a few people clapped, but it died out quickly. Mr. Jefferson started to scour the room, his mouth turning into a frown. "Is Max here tonight? Has anyone seen her?"

Murmurs broke out all over the room as if this were an important court case on Law & Order. Taylor even indulged in a look around the room, although she was pretty sure Max wasn't at this party, or any other party hosted by the Vortex Club party that had ever existed. Apparently Jefferson hadn't gotten the memo.

He chuckled, clearly a little embarrassed. "Well," he said, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. She's probably out taking pictures right now. I'll let her know about her victory tomorrow, but I'm sure some of you kids will have congratulated her by then."

Now the laughter came from the crowd, not aware that he was being entirely serious. Apparently Mr. Jefferson hadn't gotten the other memo that Max barely had any friends, and those she did didn't seem to be here.

Taylor was done here. There was nothing more for her in this party, no opportunistic congratulations she could give to a pretty girl. She went through the lobby and pushed open the heavy steel doors to the outside.

She didn't find it more peaceful out there, just colder on her skin.

"Well have you considered not talking about Max Caulfield for, I don't know, five seconds? Maybe then it would be fun to hang out, sure, but as it is, it's just really annoying."

Whatever was going on, Taylor didn't feel like getting involved, and she definitely didn't feel like being seen by any living soul right now, so she just peeled off to the right to sit on the edge of the planters overlooking the parking lot. There were bushes along it, so it would hide her from whoever was arguing further down the path.

"We're friends! That's all. I just . . . I don't have a lot of friends at Blackwell. I didn't know it bothered you so much." Was that Warren? It definitely sounded like him. As far as Taylor was aware though, he wasn't dating anybody, and this definitely sounded like a lover's quarrel.

"I get that, Warren," Oh okay, yeah, "but are you bringing me up in literally every conversation with her? Are you Brooke this Brooke that around her? Are you actually so stunned that you've managed to make two friends here that this is just unbridled wonder and you have no idea that you're being annoying?"

There was a lull, and then Warren responded, "I mean, kind of."

Taylor was doing her best to pick at her nails instead of listen, or at least look like she was listening, even if there was no one to prove that she was eavesdropping. The silence lasted longer this time. It built up the drama enough that it helped distract her, soothe her.

Brooke sighed, and started again, "Look, that was uncalled for, I'm sorry. I know it's tough for you here, especially after you and Alyssa broke up and everything. I think I'm just jealous. I feel like you don't enjoy being my friend. It makes me feel like a third wheel when I'm just talking to you."

Just a short pause this time, then, "Well, I'm - I'm sorry. That's my bad." Another pause, then, "Are we still on for the drive-in on Saturday? Or should we . . . not?"

"Yeah, dude, we're still down to go Ape. I think I just need to cool off for a bit. I'm going to go back to the party."

"Aight, well I . . . I think I'm kind of wiped. I'm gonna head back to my dorm."

"See you in class, then."

"Yeah, totally."

Taylor wasn't really sure how she could hide without jumping down to the parking lot and making a ton of noise, so she just stayed seated and looked ahead, pretending she had heard nothing. Brooke's footsteps made their way up the path towards the door and the thumping bass, but they stopped directly behind Taylor. At first she hoped that was Brooke opening the door, but then she got curious and peeked over her shoulder, and noticed Brooke staring at her. At first, Brooke's face was flat, but then Brooke rolled her eyes and groaned in disgust. Before Taylor could say anything, Brooke had gone back inside.

Yeah, Taylor didn't really feel like going back inside. She picked herself up, jumped from the planter's edge to the concrete, and started down the path towards the school courtyard.

Just before she rounded the corner into the courtyard though, she heard Warren's voice from further up ahead. "What the fuuuuck?" he said.

Taylor looked around for some clue as to what could have stunned him so, finding nothing. What she did notice, though, was how the moonlight kept flickering, getting really bright and then dim, bright again and . . .

What in the.

Winking in and out of sight was a second moon in the sky, full and shining bright right next to the first. Taylor thought her vision must have been going double, so she stuck her hand out to see if it was doubling, too.
It wasn't, but what she found there was troubling too. The lace glove she had found herself wearing in the bathroom after she'd knocked Zach out was appearing, seeming to crystallize out of nowhere one second and vanish the next. She lowered her hand slowly, hoping that taking it away from the backdrop of that impossible moon that it would stop happening.

It didn't. Instead, the shifting began to slow, letting Taylor see how the glove, the whole robe that began to appear conjured itself out of inky smoke, like the stuff that gem, that staff had pulled out of Zach.
After maybe a minute of this, the outfit stayed in place, and the winking of the second moon ended. There, hanging in the sky, were two full-fledged, identical moons.

This is it, she thought. This is the Second Coming. I fucked up. And then, aloud, "I wonder if it will hurt."

She was distracted by a loud coughing coming from around the corner. From the sound of it, it must have been close to the fountain, as its bubbling muffled the sound. When the coughing turned to a distressed hacking, though, she figured someone might be choking, that there could be an emergency and that her embarrassment of her new clothes could get someone killed unless she acted fast. She turned the corner, and found not what she was expecting at all.

In the dark, it was hard to see it at all, except that it was big. A boy (Warren, certainly), was being enveloped in a cloud, a mist that curled around him like a swarm of insects. He was doubled over in pain, coughing as hard as he could. Taylor quickly realized why - the stuff, whatever it was, was pouring into Warren's mouth. Even if it looked like mist, it had strength, because he couldn't seem to close his mouth, like a funnel had been shoved between his teeth. He was suffocating. He might be dying right here, right in front of Taylor's eyes.

Well, Taylor might not have a fucking clue what was happening, but she knew how to handle crazy fucking smoke demons possessing boys: with her staff. Wait, where was her staff this time? Why hadn't it appeared?

Before Taylor could figure out how to conjure it (was she seriously trying to figure out how to conjure a MAGICAL FUCKING STAFF TO FIGHT A DEMON? [Yes.]) however, Warren made a loud inhale, and the last of the stuff rushed inside his body. Taylor froze in place, not sure what to expect.
Warren had finally stopped struggling, just taking a second to catch his breath. After a moment, though, he stood up, and turned to look down the path where Taylor stood. But things were very, very wrong. Warren's eyes glowed bright like fire, indistinct and dancing too wildly to possibly contained within his eyes. That was enough, but after a moment, a thin line of the same fire broke out from his mouth as he smiled. The fire grew and grew until a wicked, flaming grin consumed much of his face, and Taylor had no doubt that he could see her.

Hell. Fucking. No.

Taylor turned and booked it back towards the party, looking over her shoulder the whole time to see if he was pursuing her. That was, at least until she smacked into something solid and fell down on the pavement (probably narrowly avoiding death by complete shattering of the skull).

"Oww," she moaned, reaching up to rub her head as she tried to sit up. It didn't immediately occur to her that she felt flesh, not lace on her hand.

"My God, Taylor, I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's my fault." Taylor opened her eyes, having not previously realized she even had them closed. Above her, Mr. Jefferson was peering down at her, concerned, and clearly very sorry indeed.

"Here, let me help you up. Do you think you can stand?"

She nodded feebly, reaching up to grab his extended hand. It was then that she realized the glove was gone, the robe was gone, and she was back in her (Victoria's) cardigan. The realization stunned her for a second, a second that must have looked like hesitation, because Jefferson gave a little laugh. "Take all the time you need, my hand's not going anywhere."

She grabbed his hand and pulled herself up, now free to rub the sore spot on the back of her head freely. "Thanks, Mr. Jefferson. I think I just got spooked by some shadows or something."

That brought out another laugh. "Well I'm sure glad it's just something like that. I was afraid you'd seen a monster, or something really scary, like Mr. Madsen."

Now that gave her a laugh, even if he was spot on about the monster thing. Hopefully he wouldn't have to figure out that he was right himself. "No, nothing like that. Just . . ."

Something was off, and it took Taylor a moment to realize it. Or maybe remember is the better word - she looked up at the sky, only to find the second moon gone, as if it had never been there in the first place.
Maybe it hadn't been.

"Huh," Taylor said, "You didn't happen to see . . ."

"See what?" Jefferson tilted his head to the side. He always looked so attentive, like a counselor or something. He was a lot better at it than most teachers.

Taylor shook her head. "Nothing. It's nothing. I guess I just hit my head a little too hard."

The look of concern was back. "Do you think you have a concussion? Should I get you to a hospital?"

Taylor only shook her head more vigorously which, to be honest, made her head hurt a lot more. She tried to hide it. "No, it's not that bad. I'll be fine in a few minutes.

"Well, all right."
There was nothing more to say, really, and an awkward silence set in. Luckily, he was quick to break it. "Listen, Taylor, I hadn't gotten the chance to talk to you about your entry yet."

"My what?"

"Entry. Into the Everyday Heroes contest."

Oh. Right. Duh. "Oh. What about it?" Whatever he has to say can't be worth much now.

"Well, I guess I just wanted to let you know I can already see how far you've come this year in such a short time. Your photos have a very unique beauty and sincerity to them, a kind of innocence you might say, that I find very compelling. I know you may feel down that you didn't win the competition-" actually, no, she hadn't even considered that possibility, not the possibility that her photos were any good at all, "- but I wanted to let you know that all I feel you're lacking is practice and focus. If you really put the time and energy I know you can into your photography, you're going to have a wonderful portfolio this year. And, hey, I know I'm a teacher and that teachers say this sort of stuff, but I'd love to see your work in a gallery someday."

Taylor's breath had been snatched away, and not by the fact that she had literally just seen a kid get possessed or by bashing her head on the ground. She swallowed, hesitating with an honest response. "Actually . . . no. Teachers don't say that kind of thing to me."

Again, the concerned face returned - a far more usual thing for her to receive from a teacher. "Oh. Well I'm sorry to hear that. You're a very talented student and a lovely young woman."

God. Normally Taylor hated it when older men paid her compliments, but now Taylor only flushed from embarrassment. She knew she wasn't deserving of that sort of praise, but just hearing him say it made her feel incredible. It made her feel special. Adults never made her feel that way.
"Wow . . . thank you Mr. Jefferson. I . . . I'll keep practicing, I promise."

He chuckled, "I'm glad, seeing as you have homework due Monday." Beat. "But I probably shouldn't keep you any longer, you must be tired."

That wasn't really true, but she definitely was stoned, drunk, and totally socially incapable of rejoining the party. "Yeah, you're right. I think I'm going to head for bed."

He smiled. "Well, good night Miss Christensen."

"Night Mr. Jefferson."

Taylor turned to leave for her dorm. Unfortunately, that was the last thing she really remembered from Thursday night.