"I wondered why this – this thing had been happening, and, of course, it is no one but sad little retro-zoned Maxine Caulfield." Victoria crosses her arms. Time is still unwinding. "Want to explain, or is this some waif hipster bullshit at an entirely new level?"
Max drops her hand, half scowling, half shocked, half reluctant. Why – why – why is she unaffected by the time reversal? Victoria should have been stuck, like the others, their actions slowly unwinding but she wasn't, but everyone else, including Alyssa -
With a jolt Max remembers why she had rewound time in the first place. She turns around, sees the ball is still firmly in Zach's hand. "One sec, Victoria." Max says to her despite her paramount confusion. She nudges Alyssa, and Alyssa looks at her, unhappy at being disrupted but happier when she notices it's Max.
"Oh, hi, Max, what's up?"
"Alyssa, move to the left right now."
"But why – "
"Just do it!"
She does.
The ball narrowly misses her. She looks at Max, her book floppy in her hands. "Wow, Max, how did you know that was going to hit me?" she asks, her eyes wide, dazed, amazed, and a little bit shocked.
Max has an easy smile on her face, yet her gut feels anything but easy. She opens her mouth to reply, come up with some excuse, some lie, but she is twisted around by a hand on her shoulder, effectively (and rudely) ending her conversation. Victoria is scowling at her, unhappy, but she looks back to her friends who are looking at her like she is insane, or 'uncool' for even talking to Max without blatantly insulting her.
"You meet me in my room tonight or I swear to God Max Caulfield" She points a sharp, daring finger at Max, "I will shove a stick so far up your ass even Mr Jefferson won't be able to be fooled by your insecure little hipster act."
Max wonders if she could unwind, unwind so far back, to before she even thought about helping Alyssa, that Victoria wouldn't be aware of their previous conversation, or what Max could do.
But she realises, rather quickly with the anxiety that is coursing through her veins, filling her lungs, shaking her fingers, that Victoria could move during the time reversal. She's probably just like Max – but unable to rewind time herself.
And then, Max thinks with mild bitterness and morbid surprise, why did it have to be Victoria?
But it is a question that will never be answered, and Max knows this. She knows this because she knows that this should be impossible, and Max doesn't even know why she can reverse time, let alone why Victoria is unaffected by it.
Max looks back to the so-called Queen of Blackwell.
She looks a bit pale, but Max supposes she would too if she'd just watched someone manipulate time. But Victoria looks at her, brown eyes wide and scared, and she says:
"What was I – I doing before you reversed time?"
And Max feels her tongue flop uselessly in reply. She stares at Victoria, at a pale, worried, seemingly normal to everyone else, Victoria, and looks her up and down, lets the puzzle connect itself like a pen across a dot-to-dot. "Victoria," Max says, "do you not remember what happened before I reversed time?"
"No!" Victoria yells. Everyone looks to her. So many pairs of eyes, trained on her, teachers, students, staff, all staring at her as if she had suddenly turned crazy. They are silent, Victoria is pale, terrified, staring at Max like the girl is a monster. Surprisingly, she keeps her sanity and waits for everyone to slowly turn back to what they were doing, the noise level rising again, before she speaks. It is fast, sporadic, violent, but only violent because of her fear. "What the fuck did you do to me?"
"I – I didn't do anything – I mean – I was only trying to help Al – "
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no! I remember –" Victoria's eyes squint, her hand hits her head, her fingers paw at her hair, "I remember you rewinding and I remember talking to you, this conversation, but before that I – shit what was I doing?"
Max does not know what to do. Her chest feels constricted – to have your life wiped from you, even a simple few seconds, to have multiple realities blend into one, but not to remember any of them accept for the current – "You were talking to Taylor and Courtney about my ugly shirt." Max says, but it is a lie. Stick with what your familiar with, Max figures, it will comfort her.
It works. "Right-" Victoria says. Her eyes, once wild and wide, shrink a little, her hand drops from her head. She blinks, once, twice, three times, and nods. "Yeah," Victoria says. "That's right – it is an ugly fucking shirt. Who wears deer shirts, Max, that died out even before your haircut did –"
It's a weak insult, Victoria knows it, Max knows it, but neither acknowledges it.
Max knows Victoria is shaken. And, more than anything, she knows that Victoria doesn't believe the lie Max just fed her. But she chooses to, because any reality is better than one you can't remember, even if it's too horrible to be discussed.
Max meets up with Kate a bit later. They sit in her room, Max brings tea. Kate lets hers go cold on her desk, her hands too occupied with nervously holding each other to worry about anything else. Max is the one that must carry the conversation.
"I don't mean to brag, Kate, but I think I made pretty tasty tea today." Max doesn't say it out of spite, but out of worry. She stares at the full cup of cold tea sat on Kate's desk, and all she can think about it that Kate used to drink her whole cup rather quickly, and then Max would go and get her another even though Kate said it was okay and she was fine, but Max would do it anyway, and Kate would always be thankful, and Kate would always drink it.
Now, she barely even glanced at it. It made Max's chest constrict.
"Yeah, Max, it's – great. I'm sorry, I guess I'm just not really – really in the mood – for tea."
Kate looks so shaken, all the time. Like a quivering little mouse that gets into your house and shakes with fear when you try to help it out, try to keep it away from your cat who had brought it in in the first place. She does not look healthy. Max wonders when she last ate.
"Kate, you know it's okay. You don't have to drink something if you don't want to."
Kate spares her a glance, her shoulders relax slightly. "Thank you, Max." she replies. Her voice is so quiet and small. "You're a good friend."
"I don't know about that." Max replies, smiling. She takes a sip of her tea. "But I do know that I make awesome tea."
Kate gives the tiniest ghost of a smile. It's not even there, but it is, and it makes Max so happy. But it is gone before it ever really arrived and Max is left staring at the pale, depressed face of her close friend again, wondering why she can't do more for her.
And, then, Max realises that she can.
She has this power now – this power that can rewind any bad mistake and do it an entirely different way – and although she can't go back to that night, can't undo the mistakes, the video, because they are long before she was given this power, she could make sure Kate never has to deal with that kind of hate again. Kate does not deserve to be called a slut, whore, to be asked how much she charges – all this horrible crap she has heard from people, Kate does not deserve.
Max will make sure she never has to deal with it again.
"Did you want to go to the Two Whales this weekend, maybe? Their pancakes are guaranteed to put a smile on anyone's face, or 50% off."
But Kate simply shrugs, doesn't look up, doesn't laugh at her joke or even really acknowledge it. "No, thanks, Max."
And that is when Max realises that you can't help someone that doesn't want to be helped. But she will not give up. Because Kate deserves more than sitting in a dark room, stuck with her thoughts for company, stuck with these bibles quotes as the voice of her disappointed mother, left with nothing but this room as the only place she can escape the teasing of others but never the bullying of her mind.
Max will not leave her alone. Max will use her power, and help her however she can.
And she doesn't see why she can't do that for other people, as well. Like Alyssa today – she stopped her from being laughed at, hurt, and Max felt good about it.
So she'd continue helping people, even if her little talk with Victoria ended up in disaster.
Max enters the room quietly, carefully, slinks her body in through the door, making sure no one outside had seen her come in (as Victoria had requested) and then lightly clicks it shut. She looks forward at Victoria sat rigid on her bed, and takes two careful steps in.
"Hi." Max says, quietly. Victoria looks at her.
"You can rewind time."
Max nods. "I guess." She says, "it – it doesn't really make sense to me."
Max takes another few steps in, cautiously, like a deer. Victoria rolls her eyes, ushers her forward. "I'm not going to hurt you, weirdo."
Max gives her a small shrug, but obediently takes a seat on the bed away from Victoria, sits there awkwardly with her hands tucked together on her lap. She wonders what she's supposed to say, how this conversation is supposed to go, because Victoria is mean but ultimately confused, the only person who knows about Max's gift and the very person Max wished didn't know. She looks at Victoria: a girl who looks surprisingly scared, her arms crossed, hands rubbing up and down her arms worriedly, her eyes staring vacantly forward. Max feels terrible, terrible that she could be the cause of this distress.
Victoria isn't a nice person, in Max's experience. But does that make her a bad person, because of one person's perception? No.
But, damn, Max wishes she could get a second opinion.
"I can't remember what – what happened to me. You – I was doing something and then you – reversed time and now – now I can't remember what happened and it's your fucking fault, Maxine -"
"I didn't know you were unaffected by it, Victoria, I thought everyone –"
"But I am affected!" Victoria yells, flinging her hands into the air. She stands, walks a few hurried paces, turns around and looks at Max. "When time was reversing I could move and no one else could, and when it was all over I couldn't remember what you had reversed, only that you had! Only that afterwards I felt violated, sick, like someone had f-ing drugged me!"
Max stares at her: shocked, ashamed, not knowing what to say, or do, how to reply, how her tongue should rest in her mouth or if she should even look at Victoria. She feels her hands clench into anxious fists, her teeth bite down on her cheek. "I didn't know." She says, useless. Her body feels pumped with anxiety, her muscles charged with strength but desperate to sit down.
"No shit." Victoria says.
"I –" Max takes a breath in. Stands up. "But if you don't remember the reverse, how do you know I have powers?"
"Because, weirdo, I remember what happens when time is reversing."
They stare at each other, evenly. Evaluating what to think about each other, what to do. Max knows she's at Victoria's mercy but, then again, who would believe her if she told people Max could reverse time?
"You're going to keep doing it, aren't you?"
Max nods. "I am."
"Fuck," Victoria says with a groan. She lets her head fall back, look at the ceiling, wipes her hand across her head in worry. And then her head snaps back to Max, she folds her arms, leans her weight on her left leg, looks at Max straight in the eyes. Her eyes are piercing, even though they are such a soft, warm brown colour. "Then you better damn tell me when you're going to do it so I don't get so confused again, time-freak."
Max agrees.
