"Good afternoon, everyone. As you learned this morning, I am Dr. Elena Garcia. I expect to be addressed as Dr. Garcia or Professor Garcia. If you find either of these too formal for your personal tastes, too bad."

The tall woman stands up and begins walking around the classroom, still maintaining her impressive posture and towering over the sitting students.

"I am a tenured professor at Western American Institute of the Fine Arts—WAIFA, for short." She pronounces it "way-fuh". "I have taken photographs that hang in museums even now, I have published books, and I have written articles for art magazines. I was actually taking this semester off from the university to research and write another book, when I received an unexpected call last week asking if I could fill a recently vacated position for a photography teacher at this fine establishment of yours."

She pauses for a moment. When she is met with silence, she smiles and continues. "I will be here for the remainder of the year, after which it is my plan to return to my previous position at WAIFA. In the meantime, it is my hope that you learn many things from me, and that I, in turn, learn many things from you."

Garcia's voice is deep, but feminine, soothing, and expressive. It reminds Max, who watched the new series Orange Is the New Black during the summer (her mother especially loves the show), a little of actress Laura Prepon's voice. Max thinks that if Dr. Garcia ever found herself in need of another job, she could make good money reading for audiobooks.

Walking over to her desk, Garcia picks up a sheet of paper and returns to the center of the room. "I would now like to learn all your names. Please raise your hand when I call yours." She goes in alphabetical order, starting with Alyssa Anderson. Max is second on the list.

"Victoria Chase." Victoria raises her hand as expected, but Garcia pauses for a moment and looks at her. "Your parents run the Chase Space gallery, right?" Victoria nods, surprised.

"I had the privilege of visiting there last year; your parents personally gave me the tour. Very impressive."

Victoria beams. "Thank you, Dr. Garcia."

Max has to suppress a groan. Great. Guess we know who the good doctor's favorite is going to be. Nothing like watching Victoria suck up to yet another photography teacher. Hopefully this one at least won't turn out to be a psychopath.

The professor continues on to Taylor Christensen, Daniel DaCosta, Stella Hill, Hayden Jones, and finally Kate Marsh without further interruption.

Afterwards, Garcia walks back to her desk, turning her back to the students in doing so. Max realizes that the professor sways her hips quite a bit while walking; she has to admit that the khaki skirt shows Garcia's figure quite nicely. She also realizes that the professor's height puts her hips and everything between them nearly at sitting eye level.

After a moment, Max realizes to her horror that she has been staring at Garcia's rather well rounded backside far longer than she should have and immediately averts her eyes (Bad Max! Shame! she thinks), hoping no one caught her staring. She looks to her left to see if Victoria caught her. It turns out Victoria, in fact, did not catch her, because, as far as Max can tell, Victoria herself is too busy staring at the same thing.

Whoa, is Victoria checking out the new teacher? Max wonders. No way, she probably just happens to be looking in that general direction.

Victoria seems to sense Max's gaze and turns toward her. Immediately, her eyes grow wide and she blushes.

Holy shit, she totally was! Max would find this amusing if it weren't for the fact that she feels herself blushing as well. They quickly break eye contact and look down at their respective tables in shame.

Setting the list back on the desk, Garcia now picks up a marker and turns back to the class.

"Tell me, what are some words that come to mind when you think of the events of the past week?"

Everyone looks at each other. No one responds.

Garcia gestures for a response. "Come on, humor me, people. One word per person, that's all I need."

Hayden speaks first. "Insanity." Garcia turns and writes the word on the board.

Stella is next. "Anger."

Alyssa: "Hatred."

Kate: "Violated."

Victoria: "Sorrow."

Taylor: "Grief."

Daniel: "Death."

Max is the last to speak as she continues to stare at her desk: "Loss." Victoria glances over at her.

Garcia turns back to the class after writing the last of the eight words. "It is themes such as these that often produce the best works of fine art. Painting and sculpture. Literature. Films. Music. Even comedy. For example, how many of you have read any of Mark Twain's work?"

Every hand goes up.

Garcia smiles. "He was one of the most brilliant writers and humorists of his time. If you ever read some of his quotes about contemporary issues of his time, you will often find him to be biting and hilarious at the same time. And often still relevant to modern times."

She walks around again as she continues. "He also once said that there is no humor in heaven, because the source of humor is not joy but sadness. And he was no stranger to sadness. He ended up outliving his parents, all of his brothers and sisters, his wife, his son, and two of his daughters."

She faces the class once again. "I say all of this to lead to the next order of business: the project I am assigning you." This elicits several audible groans from the class. She holds up her hands to quiet them down. "I know this isn't what you want, and I realize that doing this on my first day here won't win me your praise and love, but they hired me to do a job. Not just to teach, but also to make you stretch yourself and find that creative spark within yourself, to be able to express.

"Your project is this: Think of a time when you suffered. The loss of a loved one, or of a pet. Being the victim of a crime. A betrayal. An injury. Depression or anxiety. Then, create an art piece based on it. There are a few requirements regarding how the art piece itself should be put together. I suggest you take notes.

"The first requirement is that it has to involve at least one photograph. This is a photography class, after all. However, you are welcome to mix it with other art forms in some way, including drawings, paintings, or other photographs. You can even digitally manipulate it via methods such as applying filters or using Photoshop, but be sure to provide a copy of the original.

"The second requirement is that is has to be something that can be framed and placed on a wall. No videos or sculptures. Sorry.

"The final requirement is that the work has to be all yours; no using others' efforts, not even online stock photos, whether you have the proper permissions or not. You are allowed to request guidance or assistance from other students, such as to model for you or snap the photo for you, and you can use tools, including computer software, but the overall planning and execution has to be all yours.

"Along with the art piece, you will submit an essay about the event that your art piece is based on. The essay does not have to go into graphic detail or name names, but it does need to explain how the suffering caused by the event is expressed in the art piece.

She looks around at the eight faces one more time. "This will be due at the end of the semester. I suggest you start thinking about it now and not wait until the last minute. Good luck, and don't forget to read the next chapter of the textbook; we will be starting the unit on the first uses of motion picture cameras. Class dismissed."

"I was really liking the new photography teacher up until she assigned the project." Victoria sighs.

"At least she seems to already like you." Taylor does an imitation of a deep voice. "'I'm Dr. Garcia, I'm a fancy professor at a fancy college, and I'm here to make you find that creative spark within yourself!'" She giggles. "Did you catch the way Max was looking at her?"

Victoria decides to play dumb. "No. What about it?"

Taylor grins in a rather evil fashion. "She was practically drooling over her; I think someone's hot for teacher! Look on the bright side...with how tall Dr. Garcia is, Max wouldn't have to kneel much to do her any 'favors'." To illustrate what she means, Taylor forms a V sign with her index and middle fingers, places it so that one finger is on either side of her mouth, and flicks her tongue across it.

Victoria can't help herself and bursts into laughter. "Oh, god, that's gross! You're horrible, Sweet T!" She laughs for most of a minute, having to wipe tears from her eyes, as Taylor's grin widens.

Victoria sits on her bed, while Taylor leans against the wall. On the other side of the Victoria's room, Courtney silently sits in a chair with an open three-ring binder in her lap, scribbling notes down on notebook paper. She is making an outline for Victoria's next essay for English class. Neither of the two blonde girls have noticed that she is quieter than usual and has not laughed once.

After the laughter dies down, Taylor changes the subject. "Has there been any more discussion of the what Vortex Club is going to do?"

"Vortex Club needs to lay low on the partying for a while, at least until this whole thing with the Prescotts blows over," replies Victoria. "Stick to the fundraising and charity stuff for now; hopefully it will be enough that the school will decide not to shut the club down."

Courtney speaks for the first time, not looking up from her notes. "Maybe it should be shut down." Victoria and Taylor look at each other, then at her.

Victoria narrows her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Courtney closes the binder and looks up, making eye contact. "I mean, Victoria, that the Vortex Club should be shut down. Is that hard for you to understand?"

Victoria can not believe what she is hearing. "I don't like your tone, Courtney. And yes, that is hard for me to understand; you're like the club's biggest fan. We even let you decide who gets to attend the parties!"

"Where is this coming from, Courtney?" Taylor displays an equal amount of disbelief. "Is it because of what happened with Nathan and Jefferson? Because we are totally trying to help with that. In case you forgot, it was the VC who came up with the idea for the Chloe Price Memorial and Scholarship funds. And we're also planning to put up anti-bullying posters."

"And that just makes everything okay, doesn't it?" Courtney's voice is still quiet, but is now starting to show traces of anger. "We get to act like the big heroes for helping clean up the mess, and never have to take responsibility for making that mess in the first place."

"We are not responsible for what Nathan did!" says Victoria. "We didn't make him bring a loaded gun to school, and we certainly did not make him kill Chloe!" Her voice briefly grows quieter. "Or Rachel."

Courtney shakes her head. "I seriously don't understand how the two of you can be sitting here laughing like everything's okay with everything that has happened in the last week; at least two people are dead, and another two are headed to prison! And let's face it, we all knew that something was seriously off about Nathan, even before he got really bad right around the time of Rachel's disappearance. But no, we were all perfectly fine to look the other way, so long as Papa Prescott kept paying for our precious parties. So yes, we are at least partially responsible. And you made things worse."

"Excuse me?" Victoria is visibly shocked at Courtney's behavior; the brunette has never once stood up to her before now.

"Kate Marsh was already humiliated enough thanks to what Nathan put in her drink, and instead of helping her, you chose to film her and put the video online, and then you let her be alone with him!"

"As I seem to remember, Courtney, you were watching the video and laughing about it same as everyone else!" Victoria seems to no longer care if anyone else on the floor hears her.

Courtney purses her lips. "You're right. I did." She sighs. "I've realized something the past few days...we're all shitty people. I thought about that fact, and I realized something else...I didn't become the shitty person I am now until I started hanging out with the Vortex Club." She points at Victoria. "Especially you."

Victoria scoffs. "You know what, Courtney? If you don't like hanging out with us, you are more than welcome to leave!"

Standing up calmly, Courtney looks at Victoria again. "You know what? I think I will." Opening the binder, she tears out the notes she wrote for the outline and flings them at the blonde. "And you can write your own stupid shitty papers from now on." She opens the door and steps out into the hallway.

Victoria jumps up and runs to the door, shouting after Courtney. "You'll be nothing without us, you hear me?! Nothing!"

Courtney does not look back or say anything, only extending her middle finger before heading to the section of the floor where her room is, through the double doors across the hall next to Max's room.

Looking both ways down the hall, Victoria sees that others—including Brooke on her left and Kate on her right—have heard the commotion and stuck their heads out of their rooms in curiosity. "What the fuck are you all looking at?!" They immediately disappear back into their rooms.

Slamming the door closed, Victoria walks back to her bed and sits down, trembling in anger.

After having been silent for several minutes, Taylor finally speaks. "Look, Courtney will come around, she just needs t—" She stops when she hears Victoria say something under her breath. "What's that, V?"

Victoria looks up at her with eyes that Taylor will later swear are red with rage. "Get. Out."

Taylor does not have to be told a third time.

It is not until she is sure Taylor is no longer within earshot that Victoria starts crying.

Author's Note: A brief teaser for next couple chapters - Max continues to struggle with her loss while trying to find an idea for her art project; more characters appear; Victoria begins behaving way differently.

Thanks again to all of you who have read my story so far; please continue to provide opinions and ideas!