Distortion
Part Ten
Fate has brought her to Mark Jefferson.
Right when Rachel's sure that none of her dreams will ever be realized, everything changes. All of the pieces fall into place and she can finally see a complete picture. Mark is so much more than words can describe and sometimes she has to pinch herself just to make sure she isn't dreaming. He has an eye for beauty, an innate talent that renders her speechless every time. She has spent hours poring through his catalog of work, each photograph more stunning than the last. He has a way of capturing the best of people, showcasing them in their greatest light. She's lucky to be his newest source of inspiration.
"Perfect".
She lies there as another shutter click goes off. She feels like she's dreaming, like everything is almost too perfect. It's the feeling she always has around Mark. Something about him steals her voice and leaves her breathless, whether he's teaching a lesson on black-and-white photography or conducting an impromptu photoshoot. He has something, something she's been desperately clawing for. She has no idea what this will be, if it will even be anything, but she's hopeful.
The photoshoot doesn't last longer than thirty minutes but it's enough time to make her feel like she's walking on air. She floats through the courtyard of Blackwell, too happy to be bogged down by whatever latest gossip is being whispered by her classmates. She finds herself excited for the first time in ages; there's promise. She's so close to freedom that she can almost taste it. She sits at one of the picnic tables and watches heavy flakes of snow slowly fall to the ground.
Winter has always been her least favorite season. Everything seems frozen, suspended in time, and there's an eeriness in it that reminds her of death. The plants are long gone and the year is rapidly coming to a close. It's the promise of Spring, of renewal and growth, that has always kept her from falling into a pit of despair. Even now, she reminds herself that - soon- the snow will melt and the flowers will return. They always do. She's so preoccupied by her own thoughts that she doesn't see Nathan until he's right in front of her.
"You're a hard person to get a hold of, you know that?"
She has no idea if he means hard to get in contact with or hard to keep around.
"Sorry, I've been-"
"Busy", he rolls his eyes, "Too busy to answer a text".
"I-"
"I don't get you. One minute you're saying one thing and, the next, you're saying something else. I think we're cool and then we aren't. What's your deal?"
She doesn't feel an obligation to tell him anything but she also understands that, despite his outward detachment, he's upset. She would love to become the kind of girl that he wants her to be, always available and eager to spend time with him...but she's no Victoria. She can't let herself become wrapped up in one person and she's certainly never dreamed of being someone's high school sweetheart. Nathan may think that he sees something in her that he needs but he's only looking at the surface. She can't blame him; she won't let him get any closer.
"Did you really come over here just to yell at me?"
"I'm not yelling. I just want you to talk to me".
There's a pang in his voice and it's enough to make her feel bad for what she's done but not enough to make her explain herself. She's not sure she has the words to make him understand. He's not a bad person but he's not the right fit for her. She adjusts a strap on her bag as she stalls for time and completely avoids his heavy gaze. It feels like they've been doing this back and forth for ages.
"Fine, whatever", he scoffs, "Guess you only care about drug dealers in sketchy vans, right?"
It's not what she's expecting to hear. She's been taking great care to hide her relationship with Frank as best as possible but she should've known someone like Nathan would cotton on to the truth. She doesn't know whether she should try to deny it or not but her silence seems to be the only answer he really needs. He gives her a look, as if she's no better than trash, before he shakes his head.
"Have a nice Christmas", he mumbles before he turns and heads off.
She contemplates chasing after him but it would be a waste of time. There's no reason for them to keep pretending they have something when they don't. She leaves campus feeling tired and deflated.
By the time she gets home, every square inch of the Christmas tree seems to be decorated in all manor of tinsel, bulbs, and lights. There are even old arts n' crafts ornaments sprinkled here and there, the remnants of a childhood she still thinks of fondly. Her mother is adding the last few silver bulbs to a few bare branches with the meticulous care she's known for, only turning to greet her once everything is placed just so.
"Rachel, you're just in time to put the star on top".
"Oh. Cool".
She isn't full of any holiday cheer and putting the star on top of the tree feels all too forced. She isn't sure if it's her dismal expression that's tipped her mom off or her lack of excitement about the Christmas decorations but it isn't long before she's steered to the sofa for a talk.
"What's wrong?"
There's a lot wrong but it isn't like she can spill her guts to her mom. Half of the things going on in her life aren't even on her parents radar. She's their little star, even if she's been screwing up royally lately, and she can't disappoint them by admitting all of her mistakes.
"Nothing. It was a long day".
"Now, Rachel, I know when you're upset. You know you can always talk to me".
Where should she start first? With the fact that a guy she slept with on a whim now hates her guts because she can't even return a simple text? Or maybe the fact that she's spent days living in an R/V with a known drug dealer? Or, maybe, that she's hiding all of this from Chloe, the one person who deserves to hear the truth the most? She can't even begin to wrap her head around all that's happening and her mom's openness is too scary to think about. She can tell her everything and risk being grounded for life, or worse, or she can keep up the act. Why make things harder for all of them?
"I know and I promise you that I'm okay".
"...Alright. If you say so. Are you all packed yet?"
She's going to stay with her father for the holidays and it still hasn't fully hit her yet that this will be their first Christmas apart. The divorce is still a sticky subject for her and she tries not to dwell on it. At least neither of her parents have started dating other people yet.
"Almost. Are you going to be okay by yourself?"
She feels bad about leaving her mom on her own, even if it's only for a few days. She hates to think about anyone spending Christmas alone, especially her own mother. There's something too depressing about 'the most wonderful time of the year' being spent eating dinner by yourself. Her mom gives her a reassuring smile, one that helps to put her at ease for the time being.
"I'll be fine, Rachel. We'll open our gifts when you get back".
"Okay but I'm calling you as soon as a I wake up on Christmas morning".
"I know you will. Go finish getting packed, I'll let you know when dinner's ready".
She heads upstairs to her bedroom, part of her relieved that she'll be away from Arcadia Bay for a few days. She needs some time to clear her head and figure out what the hell she's doing. She's sorting through a pile of sweaters when her cell phone buzzes. It's a message from Mark.
Your photos turned out fantastic. Can't wait to shoot with you again. Don't hesitate to reach out to me if you ever need anything.
It's as if the wind has been knocked out of her. She can't imagine in a million years that someone like Mark Jefferson would want to speak to her about anything. He's so worldly and knowledgeable and she can barely remember to wash off her make-up at night. The fact that he's even texting her is something she can't comprehend. She tries to convince herself that his interest is strictly professional but she's sure that most teachers don't message their students. Most of them probably don't ask them to be models either. She knows, deep down, that everything about this is wrong but she can't shake the excitement she feels. Despite everything, Mark finds her interesting enough to want to get to know her better. She hesitates for a moment, not sure how to respond. She wants to go for cool and collected but she's too nervous to get her hands to cooperate with typing a simple message. She steels herself with a shaky breath before she presses the 'call' button.
It takes three rings before he answers.
"Rachel, it's nice to hear from you".