Be cool, Max. It's just another class.
Max's racing heart wouldn't adhere to her thoughts at all, ramming against her rib cage as though it wanted to burst from her chest and present itself openly to Mr. Jefferson. He was even more attractive in real life with his mussed hair, as though he had just rolled out of bed, his black-and-white frames added to his trendiness, and his facial hair made him appear more mature. She couldn't believe that she was sitting in front of the Mark Jefferson. She was in his class . His eyes locked onto hers, and she immediately averted her gaze. Closing her eyes a moment, she willed away the warmth rising to her cheeks.
Wowsers. Talk about swoon.
"I loved first days when I was a student," Mr. Jefferson stated. His warm voice was deep and calming. "Go to class, knowing nothing was going to happen. No homework would really be assigned. And now I dread first days for those same reasons." Mr. Jefferson chuckled. "So I've decided to start this day a bit differently. We're starting with an assignment."
A collective groan emitted from the class.
"Shhh, don't be like that," Mr. Jefferson said, his smile coloring his tone. "We're going to start by me taking a picture of you all. A commemorative photo, if you will, of our first day together. Now come on, huddle up! Use Miss Alyssa's desk as our focal point."
Everyone else rose first, chairs clattering away from desks. Max, although a self-declared selfie queen, felt her nerves wrack at the thought of being on the other side of Mr. Jefferson's lens. A girl with short blond hair and an outfit that probably cost more than Max's entire wardrobe strutted over and grabbed the black male. He walked with her, pulling his seat along as he went, and she sat down in the first chair available next to Alyssa. Without a word, she looked pointedly at him. He caught the hint, pulling his chair in between them and sitting down himself. A girl with long, blonde hair took up her place on the other side of the girl with dyed hair. Her outfit, although not as expensive as short-cut's, was definitely planned out before entering. Swallowing hard, Max became aware of her own clothing. She hadn't anticipated being photographed today, or she might have tried to be more impressive than just "Jane Doe."
Rising, a girl with dirty blond hair pulled back brushed down her clothing. She was clearly shy, standing behind the line of chairs and allowing them to block most of her petite frame. Max certainly identified with her. Then the last two students stood behind the girl with dyed hair. As the only one who didn't move, she must Alyssa.
Great job there, Max Holmes. Way to finally realize the obvious.
"Care to join the class?"
It took a moment for Max to realize that she was being spoken to. The other students turned back, their eyes boring into her. Heart leaping, Max looked from them back to Mr. Jefferson. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered out, getting up. She took a few steps forward to feel a weight pull at her shoulders. A loud scraping noise alerted her to the issue. Her bag had hooked on her chair, as she hadn't removed it, and dragged it with her for a moment. Her face flushed more as she untangled herself.
How much more uncool can you get, Max?
"Bring the chair," Mr. Jefferson said. He smiled at her reassuringly, and it almost washed away her embarrassment. Almost. He motioned to the dirty blonde. "There's a nice spot for you in front of Kate here."
Max picked her chair up, not wanting to hear the scraping announce her belated approach. She set it down behind Alyssa's and long blonde's chairs, just in front of the girl who was called "Kate."
Bringing up his camera, Mr. Jefferson brought it to his right eye. "Alright, now, everyone just be yourself. Let me get a glimpse of who you are."
Looking at Mr. Jefferson's camera, Max shrank slightly at the thought but reflexively smiled nonetheless. She held it for a few shots before he lowered his camera. Letting out a breath of relief, she wished she could get as far away as possible to deal with her embarrassment in private.
"Wonderful," Mr. Jefferson stated, setting his camera down near his laptop. "I'll make sure to email you all a copy this evening."
That was one email Max wasn't looking forward to. She was sure she looked just as awkward as she felt. Swallowing hard, she was the first to rise, eager to place her seat back at its desk. Perhaps the ground would suddenly split underneath her and swallow her whole. That would be a considerable improvement as her face burned.
"Mr. Jefferson," a sickly sweet voice called out. Max looked over to see the short-haired blond speaking.
Mr. Jefferson blinked. "Yes, Miss Victoria?"
"I wanted to ask you about the assignment. I looked up your syllabus online before coming to class," Victoria replied. A ripple of discomfort went through the students in the class. "I noticed it mentioned we should bring a portfolio on our first day."
Every other student stilled, all staring at Mr. Jefferson for a response. Certainly, Victoria was the only one who had thought to look ahead of time at the syllabus. Max hadn't carried any pictures with her outside of the personal ones in her diary. And the one from this morning, she supposed, but she didn't think that constituted a portfolio .
"I'm glad you brought that up. Actually, that was what I was changing," Mr. Jefferson noted. Victoria practically deflated in front of him. "Now that I have had you all as my subjects, I want to be yours. For today's exercise, all of you are going to take one photograph of me with my camera. I want this to be my first glimpse at you all as photographers as well as artists."
Max felt her heart race at the thought. She wasn't used to working with models. Outside of her instant selfies, her preferred subject was nature, whether within its environment or a foreign one. But she had never worked with someone before as a model. Anxiety welled up in the back of her mind again. How was she supposed to make a good impression when she was so clearly out of her element?
I wonder if I can still drop the class...
"I will be calling you all in one by one. You have 10 minutes to figure out your shot before I start calling you in. Once in, you have 5 minutes to take it," Mr. Jefferson explained.
Shocked, Victoria's jaw dropped. "Mr. Jefferson, that's hardly any time for a professional-"
"Miss Victoria," Mr. Jefferson cut in, his smile becoming a bit strained, "I am not asking you to become a professional in ten minutes. I'm asking you to show me who you are as an artist. Now, everyone out! Your time starts now."
Victoria snapped her mouth shut as she marched, along with the rest of the class, out of the room. They dispersed in the silent hallway, miniature cliques being formed already. Victoria sat with the long-haired blonde and the black guy, the three of them talking in low murmurs. Alyssa and Kate sat together with the other two students, although only the three girls spoke to each other.
And then there was Max.
She knew she should climb out of her cocoon, but she sat down by herself. This was important. She had so far only made a fool of herself, and this was her moment of redemption. A second chance at looking back on today with fondness. She needed to impress Mr. Jefferson. But she didn't know how.
"I'm going to go for a brooding shot," Victoria declared. The quietness of the hall made her easy to hear as she spoke to her friends. "Because he's an artist at heart. He knows what it's like to slave over the perfect shot. It suits him perfectly as a model."
"But what about you as an artist?" Max inquired, now curious.
Green eyes fastened onto Max, driving like daggers into her. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything after all. "What do you mean?"
"W-well, Mr. Jefferson said he wanted to see us as artists," Max pointed out, her voice giving away how nervous she was. She was just trying to help. There was no reason for Victoria to look at her as though she was about to murder her.
Rising to her feet, Victoria took measured paces towards Max. "It suits me as an artist because it reveals how observant I am. To reveal someone's personality within a photo is a formidable talent to have." She was almost upon Max now, towering overhead.
Max's brow knitted with concern as she searched for a way to escape only to realize there wasn't one. Oh, shit...
"A talent, might I add, I was born with. So don't you even think about stealing my idea if he calls you in first, or I will-"
The door burst open. Mr. Jefferson stepped out and looked around. His eyes narrowed upon finding the scene before him. In a deliberate manner, he took several decisive steps forward. Max shivered as Victoria quickly took a few steps away. Once she did, Mr. Jefferson smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Victoria, you will be first," he stated.
Victoria blinked. "But Mr. Jefferson, it hasn't even been ten minutes!"
"It's clear by the fact that you brought a portfolio that you have a strong understanding of who you are," Mr. Jefferson answered without missing a beat. "An assignment like this should be easy enough for you. And once you've taken your photo, you get to leave early. I believe a suitable reward for the only one to read the syllabus before class started."
Victoria practically preened under the praise. It made Max want to gag, knowing that she was just pretending to seem perfect in Mr. Jefferson's eyes. Even worse, he seemed to be falling for it. Still, she couldn't ignore the fact that this had just saved her hide from whatever Victoria had been planning to do. Max sank back into the lockers, relieved. Victoria strutted into the classroom, and Mr. Jefferson gave Max one last look before following. The door closed, but the students remained silent. She knew that it wouldn't be long before that exchange was the gossip of the school. The only thing she had to wonder was if it was going to portray her as the agitator or as the victim.
You have bigger things to worry about.
That thought nagged at her mind, pulling her back to the fact that she had to come up with a way to portray herself as an artist with all the wrong materials. She couldn't use her own camera. She had to use a model. She had to figure out a way to do so properly in a set environment. It went against everything that she was: spontaneous, adventurous, and in-the-moment. Honestly, Max wondered what would happen if she wandered off. Would he even notice? She supposed so, given the fact that his class was so small. Sighing, she resigned herself to her position.
The door opened again, and Victoria stepped out with a smug look on her face. "Thank you for the compliments, Mr. Jefferson. I'm glad you liked my shot."
"Yes. I will see you in class tomorrow, Miss Victoria."
"Just Victoria, please," Victoria purred with a grin.
How can she say that without puking?
"Stella, you're next," Mr. Jefferson called out, ignoring Victoria's response.
One by one, her fellow students were called in. And one by one, they emerged looking far more relieved than when they entered. Max, however, felt her anxiety build with every door click. She could feel her heart fluttering as she searched for an idea - any idea - that would plausibly work. How could she create spontaneity in a setting? How could she create a genuine reaction from a model prepared to express himself however the photographer asked? This was all so horrifically out of her element that she didn't even know where to start. Victoria, for all her arrogance, at least had a clear vision in mind almost immediately. But it was like Max's lens was always just out of focus.
That nauseating feeling that had left her before now returned with a vengeance. Rubbing her stomach, she waited for Daniel to come out. She knew she was next now, being the last one in the hall. She worried that Mr. Jefferson had called them in according to how promising he thought they were.
That would certainly fit.
The door open, and her heart decided that her stomach was her new home. Mr. Jefferson and Daniel exchanged pleasantries, as he did with all the students, before Daniel gave Max a small smile and thumbs up. Well, at least one of her classmates was nice.
"Maxine," Mr. Jefferson called out.
Max got up and tugged her shirt down nervously. "Just Max, Mr. Jefferson."
"I apologize, Max," Mr. Jefferson offered before closing the door. He glanced back at her, not moving an inch. However, his gaze towards her softened. "I'm sure by now you're aware why I called you last. I don't know what the exchange was about, but I take it you weren't hurt?"
Max hesitated as her mind whirled. Exchange? What exchange? "I - uh - I don't know what you're-"
"You don't have to play coy with me. You looked as though Victoria had done everything except strike you when I opened the classroom door."
Realization crashed into her mind, calming the whirlwind. So that was why he dismissed Victoria first and kept Max last. He wanted to make sure she was okay. Max attempted to still her heart at that thought, unsure what to do with his attention. "O-oh. No, there was just a misunderstanding between us. That's all."
"Max, you can tell me if something happened. I'm your teacher. Part of my job is to help you," Mr. Jefferson pressed, his eyebrows pulling up with concern. It was touching to see, really, that he already cared so much about his students. No doubt he was going to be her favorite teacher if he was going to be that invested.
She smiled, tentatively yet honestly. "Thank you, Mr. Jefferson. That's supercool of you. But nothing happened."
Mr. Jefferson's mouth turned down with a hint of displeasure. It seemed he didn't believe her. "Well, if anything does happen, you come to me. Cool?"
"Cool," Max laughed out, starting to feel a bit more at ease.
Mr. Jefferson relaxed as well. "Well, now that I've gotten that bit over with, how would you like me?"
Max looked around the room. The wall of windows was certainly nice, as the light came streaming in thanks to the afternoon sun. Glancing around, she walked over to the windows. It was the best for a photo. Quietly, she said, "Stand here, please."
Mr. Jefferson eyed her as he walked over. He stood, facing the window, his brown eyes squinting in the light. Although the lighting was perfect, giving him a near ethereal glow and shadows casting behind him, that wouldn't do. She needed him not to look out but stay standing there. Perhaps he could look down. But at what? Her mind raced as she looked around. It landed on a book, several of which were behind his desk. Scrambling, she picked up one of them and began to flip through it. They were all pictures of destructive nature, from earthquakes to tornadoes to hurricanes to ice storms. She landed on a particularly impressive picture of a tornado. She handed the book to Mr. Jefferson.
"Look at this," she ordered, finally finding a bit of her voice.
"Like this?" Mr. Jefferson looked down, and his eyes relaxed now that the sun wasn't blinding him. It was certainly better from the angle she stood at, to his right, but it fell short. There was no true emotion to be found when looking at a previously viewed photo, she supposed.
An idea sparked upon that thought. She had a photo - one he had never seen before - on her. Quickly, she rustled in her bag for it. She pulled it out of her journal and looked at it. It wasn't much, she knew, but maybe it would evoke even the smallest amount of response from him. She straightened her shoulders and strode over. Before she could over think the situation, she held the photo out, picture down. "Actually, I want you to look at this. I took it this morning."
Mr. Jefferson lowered the book to his side and took it from her gently, his fingers barely brushing her own. Max took a step back and instinctively grabbed her camera. Mr. Jefferson flipped it over and examined it. His eyes widened, and a genuine smile parted his lips. That was it. Max brought her camera up and snapped her shot. Pleased with herself, she grabbed the picture from her camera and shook it.
"You took this?" he inquired softly, the moment now gone. He turned towards her, now examining critically. She felt like a pinned butterfly on display. Motioning to it, he complimented, "This is… purity in its finest form."
Flushing, Max ducked her head as she took it back from him. Today was finally starting to look up. "Thank you."
"Did you get your shot?"
Max beamed. "I did," she replied, offering the still-developing picture to him.
Mr. Jefferson looked at it in confusion before taking it. "Your instructions - if you recall - were to take it with my camera."
Horror iced her blood. In the moment, she had completely forgotten her instructions. "I-I'm so sorry. I just - I forgot. I saw the moment I was looking for, and I just... reacted."
"Do you know what my first rule of photography is?" Mr. Jefferson inquired as he waited for the film to develop. Max shook her head. "Always take the shot. And since that it my philosophy, I suppose I cannot be too upset with you for taking it, albeit with an inferior camera. But next time, Max, try to follow instructions."
"Yes, sir," Max murmured, her eyes drifting down to the photo. The color was just starting to show.
Way to fuck it up again, Max.
Mr. Jefferson looked down at the photo as well before tucking it into his breast pocket. "That'll be all for today, Max. Thank you for your time. I'll see you tomorrow in class."