Victoria's not supposed to be in Blackwell after hours, but being acquaintances with Nathan Prescott has its perks. A simple name drop had dispersed the security guards, one of them even being so kind as to unlock the entrance for her.
It's not as if she's here to do anything criminal, anyway. She just left her camera in Mr. Jefferson's classroom. There's no way in hell that she's going to leave it there overnight; besides how expensive it was, it holds her entry for the "Everyday Heroes" contest. She has no doubt that there are plenty of students jealous enough of her talent (though they have every right to be) to sabotage it if given the chance. She can't allow that to happen, no matter how small the possibility.
If anyone is going to get some alone time with Mr. Jefferson, it's going to be her. By the time she's through with him, he'll never want to take a picture of anyone but her.
She's nearing the room in question when a flash briefly appears in the door's window, throwing lances of light into the hallway. She briefly hesitates, only to hear a voice she recognizes whisper loudly from inside.
"—keep your voice down. If we get caught..."
Max Caulfield. Little Miss Selfie Suck-Up herself.
"And whose fault would that be?!" A second one hisses back. "You've been trying to get the 'perfect picture' for the last ten minutes! Just finish up already so we can go back to my place! You can take as many photos as you want there!"
She knows that voice too. Chloe Price may have been kicked out of Blackwell a year ago, but she's still well known by the student body. Normally a punk like her wouldn't be considered worth remembering, but her connection to Rachel Amber had gained her a bit of notoriety—even before the disappearance. Everyone had wanted to be close to Rachel, and the mystery of why she had chosen to stay friends with a burnout like Price had naturally made people curious.
"I know, I know. I've almost got the angle right. Just one more—"
A fury settles over her quickly. If Max so much as touched her camera...
With a scowl that makes most of her peers cower in fear she storms forward, heels clicking loudly against the tiles. A second before she surges through the door she hears a curse.
It's too late to hide, Maxine she thinks as she enters the room and turns her head toward the back of the classroom.
To find Max Caulfield's back. Her bare back. Sans shirt, sans bra. But that's not all. Because behind Max, just barely blocked by her scrawny body, is Chloe Price. Just as naked above the waist but facing forward, currently staring at her with eyes wide open in surprise.
With two quick flashes, the camera set up on a tripod across the room records the moment.
For once, no words present themselves. No catty remarks, no bitchy insults. She's absolutely frozen, with no idea of how to move forward.
Apparently, Max does not have the same issue. With a single fluid motion she swivels her head to look at her over her right shoulder.
"This is exactly what it looks like." She says with a confidence that—in any other circumstance—might impress her.
With a shake of her head she walks briskly past the two, grabs her camera from the top of her desk, and speeds out of the room with as much grace as possible.