A/N:
Guest: AHHHH! Yay! I am in love with the Marshfield ship, so I always get excited whenever I see a story for those two. And I'm loving this so far! Please keep it up so my Marshfield addiction can continue lol.
-Thank you so much! I will keep it up to the best of my ability for both your addiction and mine lol
"Work, work, work, work!" Rachel cheered me on as I attempted to do a model walk out of the bedroom with my new clothes. Every time I took a step, "work" would be chanted.
I went through the many shirts, sweaters, and hoodies already. It was fun to listen to Rachel's compliments and fixing anything on me that would make the outfit better. Right now, I was wearing khaki jeans for the first time, one of the black "boyfriend tees", and a red-and-blue flannel tied around my waist, but I still wore my old sneakers. I put my hair up again, even though my undercut thing was growing fast.
So far, it has only been me trying on the new clothes. I watched as Rachel had her hand on her chin, pondering something as she looked me up and down.
"Maybe it would look a little bit better," Rachel got up and rolled my sleeves twice, "if we did that."
It was a whole new style I wasn't familiar with. I was really into it; it would just take some time to get used to.
"Too gay," Rachel rolled them back down, "That was too gay."
"I look like I know how to skateboard, but that's a fat lie." I couldn't stop looking down at the pants, mostly. Rachel was highly influenced by Californian styles, as she was from Long Beach, and it showed. What was the Oregon style anyway? Was there one at all?
"Girls are into that," Rachel encouraged, "And I could totally shave down your undercut again, if you want."
"That would be nice. Maybe I should look gayer." I rolled the sleeves again. I felt gayer just doing that.
"I'll fix it when you're done modelling, get into the next outfit, girl!" Rachel pushed me back into the room again.
Even I was starting to get a little excited. It took a moment to take the pants off and put another pair on. It was black pants, apparently the ones used specifically for skating, and a white hoodie. To add to the skating effect, I put my hair down and put the black beanie on.
I walked out, followed by Rachel's clapping and whooping. I did a few poses for her, but they were slightly exaggerated. I felt weird about getting all the attention; I almost kinda liked it.
"Okay, your turn to model something." I fall onto the couch right next to her.
"Don't mind if I do," she goes into the room, "Prepare to be amazed!"
Chloe and I had to watch her fashion shows on YouTube and they were pretty interesting. Rachel had a stronger presence than everyone else and wore the clothes with such confidence and pride. She was in the Fashion Week shows and we wished we could have seen that. Rachel might be up to becoming a Victoria's Secret angel, but she hasn't talked about it.
Rachel came back out, wearing the leather jacket she bought from Gucci, ripped black jeans, and a strappy white bralette under. My mouth might have been hanging to the ground, because she laughed as she looked at me. Rachel has gotten in shape and had well-defined abs, making the outfit a lot more jaw-dropping.
"This jacket was meant for Chloe, but it looked good with these shoes." She showed off her Jimmy Choo boots.
I knew that jacket was too big for her. She said she went into Gucci to buy something for herself, guess she changed her mind.
I took my phone out, "I'll send a pic to Chloe. Give me your best."
She gave some "jacket off one shoulder and thumb in belt loop" poses, pretending to put her hair up in a ponytail, looking into the distance while her jacket fell to her elbows, and one close-up of her winking and sticking her tongue out. I took as many pictures as possible for every pose.
"Which one should I send?" I asked her as I looked through every one.
"You don't want to take one together?" She took her phone she left on the couch.
"I think she would prefer to see you."
Rachel pouted, "Just one."
I sighed, but I smiled and nodded, "Just one."
Rachel took selfies constantly from what I saw from her account, but since she arrived here, it has only been her food and the nicer areas we go to. She might be saving them for a something special. Rachel was so pretty and taking a picture with her made me feel unworthy. She had her arm around my shoulders and we just smiled for the picture. She clicked the button two times; she seemed satisfied.
"Okay, let me see all the ones you took." Rachel put her phone down again.
I haven't been able to use my Polaroid camera for anything, but only because there just wasn't anything that felt right. I would like to take professional pictures of Rachel eventually, but I needed to find a place and time.
"I really like all of these," she groaned, "I can't choose one!"
"I can help, somehow," I took about ten of each pose, "We can just choose one of each and send those ones."
I was stuck with an iPhone 4 and couldn't stop admiring Rachel's 7 Plus. I wished I had a case on mine. She seemed to have a million different ones from designs of red roses, cherry blossoms, marble, and a bird with its wings outstretched.
"That's such a good idea," she started to delete duplicates, "I'll find my favorites."
I watched as she deleted them after looking at them for a second, eventually left with four photos.
"Do you do that with your selfies?" I asked.
"I'm going to let you in on something," Rachel put her voice low, "Every model I've ever met do this. I only do it sometimes. Edit their face and everything, it's not shocking anymore."
She handed my phone back to me, "This is so fun."
"I'm having fun, too." I just text Chloe first. Hey, we did a fashion show.
I added an emoji at the end to just irk her.
"Now," Rachel opened a browser on her phone, "Do you like these clothes or do you love these clothes?"
"I love them, Rachel. I'll need to repay you sometime."
"Don't, it's fine, I'm happy buying you these things."
My phone vibrated.
NO EMOJI
Must have been fun. You're learning from the best.
Some things never change. All I did was send the pictures; her reaction could be anything. She must be bored if she answered so quickly.
"How bored do you think Chloe is?" I asked while going to a different app on my phone.
"She must be hella bored. She might be dying from it."
The TV was still on, but on mute. It was close to one AM, but neither of us were tired. We weren't bored, trying our new clothes and cheering each other on as we did was the most exciting thing I've done so far. Earlier this week, Rachel made me play this game while different shows were on. She put it on mute and made me say what we think they were saying. It was fun, but I was still awkward and more forced to be funny. She suggested to try again, but the chances of that were second to none.
About thirty minutes passed and Chloe still hasn't replied.
"I think she's speechless." I checked my messages again and it was still the pictures. I was proud of myself and the camera for taking such nice pictures.
"I hope she's okay," Rachel looked over my shoulder, "I wouldn't want her crying in the club."
Her phone was open to Tumblr. It looked like she only followed aesthetic blogs, but my blog was forty percent that and the rest were memes. A lot of the pictures were of various birds and what I think are dream catchers.
"What's your Tumblr? I got one too."
"Oh, it's my name and birthday," Rachel scrolled a little more, "You would have a Tumblr."
"It was for memes. What do you have one for?"
"When I'm sick of talking about myself and promoting things."
Chloe finally text back. She sent a picture, the one that goes "have you ever seen a woman so beautiful you started crying?".
Wish I could leave.
I was going to show Rachel until Chloe sent in another text.
Fuck it, I'm going home right now.
I showed Rachel. Chloe would prefer that I didn't, but I figured Rachel would get a kick out of it.
"You really did it now." I said to her.
Rachel's eyes widened, "It started sweet. What is she gonna do, cry on me again instead?"
"She might really be sniffling in the club, at least. I have no idea what she'll do."
The both of us just turned the volume up on an old school Disney channel movieāthe one about mermaids. It was still at the beginning when the main character's birthday was starting.
"You know what, you go change," Rachel directed, "I have a bad feeling about this."
I didn't protest. I changed into my comfy sweatshirt and sweatpants and got the couch ready for me to sleep on. Rachel sat down again on top of my blanket, letting out a sigh as she took her shoes off.
"You're not going to brush your teeth?" She asked like a concerned mom.
"I'll do it later. I may or may not eat later." I bundled into my blanket. I took my beanie off; it was getting a little hot.
It wasn't until a quarter into the movie we heard the door unlocking. Rachel was alarmed and watched the door's lock jiggle around. I was only worried if Chloe couldn't open it. I mean, if I was technical, Chloe was home in the morning after all.
The door swung open and Chloe walked in, shutting it, placing her keys in her back pocket, and then finally taking her jacket off.
"Chloe, you're back so soon, what brings you here?" Rachel acted like she never saw the texts. She stood up and we watched Chloe's actions. Suddenly, she dropped her jacket to the floor and went up to Rachel, abruptly grabbing from the waist and lifting her off the ground. Rachel let out a squeak, and then wrapped her arms and legs around her to hold on. Something told me they've done this "stand and carry" position before.
Chloe stayed silent as she proceeded to go into the bedroom.
"Max, don't come in!" Rachel yelled. After that, the door closed. I only snickered to myself before I raised the volume up again. I became too comfortable in bed, so I decided to brush my teeth and went to sleep.
Yet, I couldn't. I was unable to sleep, not because of them or the TV, but there was this nagging feel hitting me against my side, like it was trying to tell me something. It was so annoying and I flipped around on the couch about ten times. I sat up, sitting crisscross and rubbing my eyes until I saw colors. What was it? I wasn't jealous of them; I was perfectly fine, I think. Was it subconscious? Was my brain kicking itself because its human couldn't talk to a girl she liked? Was I secretly hating myself? It has been a while since I liked someone so much I could barely look at her. Damn it, I should have asked for Kate's number before I ran off. I couldn't help but think that she hung out with me just so I didn't give myself a concussion.
Fucking sucks.
I rested my arms on my lap, slouched over and staring down at the floor, trying to get the feeling away from me. There was something wrong or something wrong close by.
It couldn't just be her. Sure, I was a gay wreck, but I was managing. I was pushing myself too hard. There was something else that wanted my attention.
It was fair to say I got no sleep that night.
A/N: Sorry for lack of connecting with Kate, but I'm thirsty for Rachel and Max interaction lol I'll try my best to make the next chapter longer and will drive the story's plot forward.
Review and shit!
