October 9th, 2013

The golden hour. That perfect time of day – just after sunrise, or before sunset – when the world is bathed in warm, soft light. Revered by photographers and romantics alike. For Victoria Chase, who of course considers herself the former rather than the latter, this particular golden hour is going to be special.

The scene is perfectly composed. The brick walls of the vaunted Blackwell Academy, their prestigious art school and temporary home, serving as a backdrop. The breeze gently blowing through the branches of the trees that line the building's courtyard, carrying tiny dust motes and dandelion seeds that capture the natural lighting magnificently. Victoria Chase's outfit, a creamy white top adorned with floral imagery and paired with matching skirt and tight leggings, painstakingly chosen to complement what she considers her better features.

All for the girl lounging on the soft grass to her left. The object of Victoria's growing affections. Max Caulfield.

So yeah, this golden hour is gonna be special. Very special. Quite possibly lifechanging.

And, ok, perhaps Victoria is indeed a bit of a hopeless romantic after all.

They sit on the edge of a loose circle of companions, one and all members of the Vortex Club, the lords and ladies of Blackwell's social elite. Courtney Wagner, her make-up and straight black hair impeccable as always, is on her feet while she regales the group about how Taylor approached one of their classmates in Science for "help with a project" earlier that day, stressing how the girl to Victoria's right was acting totally suss while doing so.

"Whaaaat? I figured he could teach me about climate change, is all" Taylor Christensen drawls, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. With her straw-colored hair, blue eyes, denim jacket and deliciously short shorts, 'Sweet T' looks like she could give Daisy Duke a run for her money. And, well, having seen the girl actually go as Daisy for last year's Halloween party, Victoria can only respond to that particular thought with an enthusiastic purr and an eat your fucking heart out, Jessica Simpson.

"Oh sure." Courtney fires back. "And you totally needed to be twirling your hair and touching his knee while doing that, right?" She adds a hint of twang to her voice for emphasis as she mimics Taylor's movements. "'Excuse me, Warren but can you tell me… what is this whole climate change thing all about anyway?'"

Tay and Court are Victoria's long-time BMFs (best minions forever, naturellement), and their verbal sparring match is good natured, despite any appearances to the contrary.

It is also designed to serve as a distraction for the other present Vortex Club members, allowing for a few moments of privacy while Victoria prepares to execute the plan to woo her potential petite amie. Her girls, as always, have her back.

This seems to be working well enough on Logan Robertson and Zach Riggins, the club's stereotypically popular football lunkheads, who are respectively standing and sitting to Taylor's right while laughing and contributing their standard uncouth commentary to Courtney's tale. Hayden Jones, the picture of easy-going contentment as always, lounges on his elbow to Max's left, grinning at the girls' antics. While he is far more observant than the Blackwell Bigfoots representatives in the group, he is also less likely to be obnoxious about Victoria's scheme should he catch on.

Speaking of obnoxious, Victoria whispers a silent thank you to all the demons in the Nine Hells who conspired on this day to otherwise occupy the cheerleading slut-bag Dana Ward and Veronica Mars wannabe Juliet Watson, the two VC'ers who seemingly delighted in busting Vic's balls at every opportunity.

"You know you'd just love to get better acquainted with that big, strong, nerdy… brain of his." Courtney continues with a sneer.

Rounding out their little clique is Nathan Prescott, the preppily dressed young man sitting opposite Victoria, his back pressed up against the tree they relaxed beneath like it's his own personal throne. The Vortex Club king to Victoria's Queen, Nathan is her oldest and most trusted friend at this school. He makes a retching sound in response to the ongoing tale, but not before catching his best friend's eye to give her a knowing wink. Even if he didn't know of Victoria's intentions this particular evening, he would do anything to assist in achieving those goals.

Oh, Nate. I know you're happy that I've found someone special, but… I hope seeing it won't bring up unwanted memories.

Nathan, never exactly the most stable individual on the best of days, had been far more emotional and on-edge ever since getting so thoroughly screwed over last year by She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, may she choke on her own vomit in whatever disease-ridden Los Angeles alleyway she ran off to.

She feels a nudge from Taylor's elbow, and the girl gives her a sassy eyebrow waggle along with a pointed look at Max before turning back to the group.

"Nah, he's with Stella. I'm not that desperate that I've gotta steal another girl's man. Buuuut…" she playfully taps her lips with one finger before grinning, "if he did happen to be single, and I happened to be a few wine-coolers in by that point…"

Ok girl, Taylor's right. The timing won't get any better than this. Allons-y!

She can't help but pause just long enough to take in the sight of the girl one more time, her friends' voices fading into the background as she does. Max (never Maxine, to most people anyway) Caulfield. The tiny girl with shoulder length brown hair, captivating blue eyes, and freckles for days and days. Possessing of an easy, understated style, standing in stark contrast to the countless hours and dollars Victoria feels the need to put into her own. Someone who, she hopes, will finally be the one that wants Victoria for herself, not for her money, or family connections, or for nothing more than her (self-admittedly, killer) body.

After one last check to make sure the bangs of her short blonde hair are perfectly in place, Victoria takes a deep, steadying breath. Then, tilting her head at an angle that allows the amber light to hit her left cheek just so, she reaches out and gently brushes the back of Max's hand, drawing the petite brunette's eyes to Victoria's manicured fingers. Giving Max a coy smile (one that she most certainly did NOT practice for an hour in the bathroom this morning, and who even told you that anyway?!), she speaks softly, seductively:

"So… the other night was fun. A lot of fun, yeah?"

Max flushes just a bit, and her lips quirk into a wry little smirk. Alright, doing good so far…

"To be honest," Victoria continues, gaining confidence as she goes, "I haven't been able to get it off my mind since."

Sapphire eyes flick up to meet Victoria's emerald, glimmering with amusement. The light blush of pink on her cheeks makes Max's delicate freckles absolutely pop in the evening light, and dear God does Victoria wish she had her camera right now. Seriously, the girl in front of her is just stunning, the kind of beautiful that makes one want to contemplate last names.

Would she want to take on the Chase name outright? Or would we hyphenate? Certainly not Caulfield-Chase, my parents would never approve of me putting someone else's name ahead of my own. But Chase-Caulfield does have a nice ring to it, and—

WAIT. FUCK.

Jesus, Vic, how about we dial the thirst back a bit and focus up, okay?

Flustered by her own rebellious thoughts and Max's expectant gaze, Victoria attempts to power through the rest of her speech.

"Soooo I was thinking, if you feel the same way, maybe we could do that more often? Like… exclusively or whatever?"

Ugh, didn't quite stick the landing there but… that wasn't too bad, right?

Max still hasn't moved her hand, which seems like a good enough sign, so Victoria wraps her fingers around it to give a gentle, hopeful squeeze. After what seems like forever Max finally breaks eye contact, shyly glancing down and to her left. She coos a bit while idly picking at the grass in front of her. And right here, in this very moment, Victoria cannot imagine this day being any better.

"Vic, I've been wanting to tell you…" she starts shyly, before her voice trails off.

...

What?

Victoria's heart jack-hammers behind her ribs as one moment stretches into several.

Tell me WHAT?!

The hope surging through Victoria's chest takes on a tinge of annoyance as her would-be girlfriend seems to just… space out for a bit, her eyes taking on a glassy, faraway look.

This shifts almost entirely to a feeling of minor dread when Max begins looking around the courtyard, brow furrowed with confusion, acting like she has no idea where she even is all of a sudden.

"You are such a ho-bag. I knew you'd hook up with that loser."

Courtney earns a high-five from Logan for another catty comment, while to her right Taylor drones on about something something climate change seriously no one gives a shit right now.

Victoria resists the urge to snap her fingers in front of Max's face, instead opting for a gentler, teasing approach.

"Helloooo, are you even listening, Maxine?" She lets go of the other girl's hand to give her a playful little wave. This gets Max's attention alright, but her response is… unexpected, to say the least.

"Max… never Maxine." Delivered with that haughty, slightly bitchy tone that hasn't been aimed at Victoria since around the second week of Mark Jefferson's photography class, before their early rivalry began to evolve into playful flirtation. Suddenly, minor dread morphs to full-blown panic.

Uh, the fuck? She didn't seem to mind me moaning 'Maxine!' loud enough for the whole floor to hear Monday night. Is she fucking with me or something? Did I offend her somehow? Shit… better just roll with it for now.

Huffing out a small sigh, Victoria takes on a conciliatory tone. "I know, sorry Mad Max. You're not pissed at me, right? Right? Do you wanna go hit the girl's potty and smoke 'em peace pipe?"

Yeah, ok, that last line was laaaaaame, but… we did smoke a bowl before getting frisky the other night. Maybe she's just a little uptight talking about this stuff one hundred percent sober?

By this point the rest of the group has noticed Max's inexplicable change in demeanor, eliciting a snarky comment from Courtney in an effort to defuse the tension. "I think Max is high."

"She's acting, like, so weird…" Taylor chimes in, concern evident in her voice. "You cool, Max?"

But Max doesn't respond, she just stares back and forth between the two chattering girls, her clearly bewildered eyes roving to take in the faces of the other Vortex club members – her friends – as though they're the last people she expected to see.

"Nobody listened when I said we shouldn't let her in the Vortex…"

Taylor rolls her eyes. "Courtney, you don't want anybody in the club."

Victoria opens her mouth to spit out some scathing remark intended to get everyone to just shut the fuck up for a goddamn second, concern for Max's well-being growing exponentially, when the girl in question startles her by jumping up to her feet.

"Like, whatever, bitch." Courtney sneers, but her eyes dart in their direction with a hint of nervousness.

Victoria simply stares at Max, her mouth still open despite having long since forgotten whatever she'd meant to say before. She, along with the rest of her companions, can only watch in shocked silence as the brunette walks, nearly staggers away, heading off with shaky steps right toward…

What.

"No way." Victoria breathes, her brain finally regaining the ability to comprehend words.

Courtney groans in disgust. "Oh. My. God, please don't tell me she still has a thing for HIM."

"No fucking way." Victoria's gaze is locked on Max's face, which currently bears an expression somewhere between 'So the chlamydia test results came back' and having just discovered the upper decker someone left in your toilet.

She's standing just a few uncomfortable feet away from Warren Graham and Stella Hill, Blackwell's pre-eminent representatives of nerd-on-nerd romance, gaping while the couple hold hands and make googly eyes at each other completely oblivious to the fact that they've inexplicably become the targets of Babby's First Voyeur Fetish.

"Who… Graham?!" Nathan, whose back went ramrod straight at the sight of Max wandering off, divides his attention between Warren, Max, and Victoria, his default caustic and vaguely pissed-off look twisting into one of barely unchecked rage on the latter's behalf. "Oh, FUCK that. Vic, I swear I will kick his ass if he thinks he can move in on your…"

"I dunno man…" Hayden interjects, unfazed as usual. Sometimes Victoria thinks a tornado could blow through the middle of town and the guy would just keep on chillin' without a care in the world. "I've heard him talking about 'Goin Ape' all week, whatever that means. Besides, dude looks like he could scrap if it came to it."

This elicits a guffaw from Zach. "You think that pencil-dick can throw a punch? No way, Nate would break him in half."

"Wait…" Logan speaks up, looking like the gears between his ears are turning so hard smoke should be coming out of them. "Caulfield and Graham have a thing?"

"No, she- gawd, will you jerks please just be quiet for a minute?" Taylor pleads, worry for Victoria evident in her entire demeanor as she takes her friend's hand. "I'm sure there's a reasonable…"

Sweet, sweet Taylor, of anyone here, knows exactly how important this moment is... probably because Victoria couldn't bring herself to shut up about it for the last couple days. But whatever else she says is lost to Victoria as she blinks rapidly to stave off the moisture welling up behind her eyelids. Already she can feel the oh-so-familiar icy chill of rejection beginning to settle on her thoughts like a shroud.

Her mother. Father. Galleries. Jefferson. Photography Contests. The few lovers she'd dared allow a peak through her rock-solid defenses. Now… Max?

It's… it's not possible, right? Is the idea of dating me so fucking terrible that she'd run to Warren, of all people? I know he creeped on her at the beginning of the year but I put a stop to that! C'mon, she's so far out of his league it's not even funny, he dates girls that wear 'Cool story :/' hoodies for Christ's sake!

But Max is breaking out in a half-jog on the sidewalk now, seemingly headed in the direction of the dorms. Until suddenly she stops dead in her tracks, the look on her face like the one you get when you hear a squelch while backing out of your driveway and you can't remember whether you left the cat outside or not.

And now the girl is turning around, full-on sprinting toward and down the white stone steps that lead out to the road, just in time for the arriving bus. The schoolbus.

What?

"This is a prank, right?" The 'Ice-Queen' of Blackwell's voice cracks with emotion as she finally turns to look at Taylor, both of her hands now firmly grasping her aghast friend's. "I'm being punk'd or whatever? Please Tay, I swear I won't be mad, just… tell me I'm being pranked right now!"

But the idea that this is just a cruel and elaborate joke seems to get less and less likely as Max, having spent a few seconds staring dumbly at the bus-driver (you know, the one with the porn-stache who always looks like the before picture in a Zoloft commercial), is actually. Getting. On. The bus.

WHAT!

Victoria is standing now, her hands pulling at the short blonde hair on either side of her head as she helplessly watches the ancient yellow vehicle (carrying the woman who was supposed to be her girlfriend by now) putter off into the sunset. Or parallel to it. WHATEVER.

It takes almost a minute before Victoria can speak again, her throat constricted by the simultaneous and competing urges to cry and vomit. The rest of her cohort simply stare at her silently, having no clue what to do or say in this very moment.

Finally, she takes a deep, shuddering breath before pointing at the student parking lot and crying out:

"SHE OWNS A FUCKING CAR!"

The last statement is punctuated with a shriek of frustration, one that surely draws all eyes in the courtyard to the pixie-cut coiffed student just in time to see her flop back, her ass connecting to the ground with a solid thump.

…

Another stretch of silence is finally broken by Logan.

"Wait… Caulfield and VIC have a thing?!"

The ever-observant linebacker yelps in pain as a half-full coke can, probably Courtney's, connects with his forehead while his friends groan around him.

Victoria can only bring her hands up to cover her face as loud sobbing finally overtakes her.

This day could not get any worse.

Sometime later, Victoria is still trying to get her ugly-crying under control while wishing with all her heart that she could just crawl into a hole and die from… rage? Sadness? Humiliation? Take your fucking pick, folks, there's more than enough shit to go around right now.

Taylor has scooted in beside her, rubbing slow, soft circles along Victoria's back while whispering soothing words in her ear. Courtney is kneeling in front of her, bag in hand, trying futilely to get her to move her hands so that she can try to do something to salvage what must be an absolute make-up disaster right now.

Zach and Logan, having been forced to witness genuine female emotion up close, had disappeared so quickly Victoria is shocked they didn't leave cartoon smoke trails in their wake. Hayden, now standing off to the side, seems at a complete loss. Though he does at least have the decency to appear tense for once in his goddamn life.

Nathan seems to have taken Max's departure the hardest of everyone save Victoria herself, having stared off in that direction for several minutes after the bus disappeared, the color drained from his face. After a time, he turned his eyes to the ground and began tearing clumps of grass up from the dirt in front of him, muttering to himself all the while. Whether it was out of loyalty to her, or himself being hurt somehow by Max's inexplicable escape, Vic couldn't say.

"You uh… you're still coming to the party tomorrow, right Vic?" he asks, hesitation practically oozing from his voice.

The End of the World party. An event that the Vortex Club had been planning practically since the beginning of the school term. The first chance the Blackwell student body at large would have to really cut loose, especially since Principal Wells had strongly dissuaded off-campus parties in exchange for allowing the use of the Academy swimming pool for a quarterly, chaperone and security-free soiree. It was going to be an absolute rager. It was Nathan and Victoria's baby.

And it is something she could not give less of a shit about right this moment.

"Gee, I'm not sure right now, Nate." Victoria spits, finally dropping her cosmetics-stained hands to her lap. "I promise when the pod-person who is inhabiting my date's body deigns to clue me in on her schedule for tomorrow evening, you will be the first to know. Okay?!"

Chagrined, Nathan looks away with a mumbled apology, the hurt evident on his face.

He didn't deserve that, not really. He's clearly just worried about Max and I, right? I'll… make it up to him later.

The pang of guilt this causes to well up in Victoria is quickly forgotten, however, as she begins to realize just how much attention she's drawn from the other students nearby. Two of them being Warren and Stella, who are now casting worried glances in her direction while speaking quietly to each other, the pink-hoodied girl nudging her boyfriend as if they're trying to figure out whether they should come over to check on her and oh god, Victoria would rather take a bullet to the back of the head right now than to be pitied by Warren Graham of all people.

"Oh shit", a scoff from Courtney thankfully interrupts that particular train-wreck of thought. Though she then kicks off a new one that makes the previous thought-train look like a pleasant ride along the beach on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

"Don't look now guys, but Creepy Kate is staring again."

Every muscle in Victoria's body tenses up at this, and she can feel her teeth grinding before she hisses out "God I wish she'd just lose that massive boner she's got for you, Nate, it's getting really old."

This earns a horrified look from the boy in question, along with a mouthed 'Seriously, Vic?'

Hayden surreptitiously peeks in the direction of the fountain in the center of the courtyard, back and to the right of Victoria's current position. "I dunno, Vic. Looks to me like she's more focused on you."

Of course she is, you moron! Victoria groans internally. She'd hoped that throwing Nathan under the bus would give her a chance to avoid it, but she's been able to feel the heat of "Creepy" Kate Marsh's gaze ever since Courtney spoke her name. Just like she's felt it every goddamn day for weeks now.

Nearly everyone in Blackwell snickered behind her back about how hilarious it was that Victoria Maribeth Chase managed to pick up such a mousy church girl as a "stalker". Doubly so that said stalker just so happened to be her next-door neighbor in the dorms.

Not that Victoria cared, usually. The girl was about as threatening as the cute little bunny rabbit she kept in her room, and would be just as easy to throttle if it came to it. All she ever did, to Victoria at least, was stare at her in the most obnoxiously obvious way possible. But Kate seemed to be literally everywhere she turned on campus lately, and this was so not the kind of shit she needed to be dealing with on this absolute disaster of a day.

You know what? Fuck it! Her mind feels like a stove-pot full of anger and humiliation about to boil over. Or like a steam-filled kettle screaming for release. And if Kate Marsh wants to sacrifice herself on the altar of Victoria's fury, who is she to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Never one for subtlety, Victoria twists her body to the side, snapping her head around to instantly lock eyes with Kate. The girl is sitting on the edge of the fountain, bag at her side, the book in her delicate hands obviously going un-read as she is far too laser-focused on Victoria to keep up the pretense. She looks mostly the same as usual, wearing a modest skirt and her customary dark shawl, though the dark blonde hair she keeps in a large bun is frayed and sticking out at less than perfect angles, and of late deep bags have made a home beneath her brown eyes, seemingly growing larger and darker by the day.

Knowing she must be quite a sight with her mouth twisted into a sneer and rivers of mascara running down her cheeks, Victoria feeds so much rage into her patented death-glare she's surprised lasers haven't escaped her own eyes to burn the girl to a crisp.

It seems to have the intended effect, however, as Kate almost immediately jumps in shock, an audible "Eeep!" (that Victoria would have begrudgingly found adorable if the circumstance was different) escaping her red lips. Obviously catching on to the fact Victoria intends to do way more than just glare, the girl quickly gathers her belongings and begins to hurry off in the direction of the dorms.

Oh, HELL no. This bitch is NOT getting off that easy.

Courtney laughs wickedly as Victoria clambers to her feet and moves to follow, but a momentary shift of that rage-filled gaze pins the dark-haired girl to her spot. "No, stay, I've got this" Victoria growls.

"Wait! We're not gonna leave you alone after—" Taylor starts, but is cut off by a middle finger thrown over Victoria's left shoulder as she is stalking away, seeming to bristle like an angry cat.

"I said FUCK OFF! Stop being completely goddamn useless for a change and help Nate with party shit! I'll call you later or whatever." She knows Taylor's wounded expression will make her feel like shit once everything has settled down, but Victoria doesn't have time for it at the moment. Right now, she's a tigress with her prey in sight, and the hunt is on.

"MARSH!"

Kate's eyes go wide again as she looks over her shoulder at her pursuer, and she quickens her pace in the opposite direction. This, of course, does no favors for Victoria's mood, admonishments from her mother about how 'a Chase never runs in public, it's simply undignified' playing in the back of her mind as she breaks into a light jog.

Yeah well fuck you mother, you never had to deal with the religious weirdo that couldn't keep her eyes to herself after the girl you actually like humiliated you in front of the entire school, did you? Besides, my make-up is already ruined as-is. Dignity is overrated.

Victoria envisions all the myriad ways she is going to verbally eviscerate Marsh once she finally manages to catch her, her green eyes decidedly not transfixed by the switch of the fleeing girl's hips or the way her dress twitches up to show bits of bare thigh with each stride.

And even if they are, so what? Victoria might be pissed off, but she isn't blind. Kate does have a nice body under those modest clothes, she's seen her enough times changing before gym class or heading for a morning shower in just her PJ's to know that. And with her pretty brown eyes and those red, red lips, Victoria's sure the girl could get pretty much any guy on campus if she would just drop the holier-than-thou attitude and stop dressing like a 1950's school-marm.

Kate adjusts the strap on the bag hanging from her shoulder as she takes a left turn, her right arm clutching her ever-present sketchbook close to her chest. She hasn't looked back to gauge how much Victoria has gained on her, or she would likely have sped up even more.

And, sure. Maybe Victoria has fantasized about Kate a time or two, in those quiet moments of solitude before bed. Or several times. Who cares? She's probably done so for almost every girl enrolled in Blackwell by this point, along with a fair portion of the guys and even a handful of faculty members. Big deal! Her therapist says that masturbation is a natural and healthy way to explore one's desires and sexuality, and one that doesn't necessarily say anything about one's feelings or the lack thereof toward the object of those fantasies. And that bitch had two PHDs by her 28th birthday and charges more per session than most people's mortgage payments, so who the fuck is anyone else to disagree?

It isn't until they've both entered the short alleyway that divides the courtyard and the dorms before Victoria finally gets close enough to grab for the other blonde's right shoulder. Catching a firm hold, she pulls hard enough to wrench Kate to a stop and spin her around in one smooth motion, all manner of invectives ready to roll off her tongue.

...

So… here's the thing.

The fact that Victoria does find Kate attractive in a pre-makeover Sandy from Grease-kinda way isn't what stops her dead in her tracks, the tirade she'd spent the entire infuriating run preparing flying right out of her head, forgotten.

It also isn't the fact that her fantasies involving the girl have shifted in the past few weeks since the abstinence-club incident. Most of her "self-help" sessions involve Victoria sexually conquering her partner. Showing Max all the delicious ins and outs of girl on girl romance. Pressing a feebly-protesting Mark Jefferson back into his chair after class while she shows him just how far she'll go for an A. Coming out on top during a Judo match with Alyssa (hey, that happened just one time, ok?)

Lately, though, her Kate scenarios had been different. Kate pressing her back onto the tiled wall of the girl's dorm showers, her mouth roaming all over Victoria in an effort to sate her insatiable hunger while steam and warm water envelops them. Or Victoria held down, wrists tied to her bedposts with violin strings while Kate's deft fingers play her body like a musical instrument.

But no, those kinds of thoughts are not what made Victoria's mouth go dry and her mind go blank just now.

It's Kate's eyes.

Those wide, glistening, intense goddamn eyes. Wild eyes that flit to and fro as if taking in every detail of Victoria's face before returning to meet her flummoxed gaze. Hazel eyes that, this close, reveal hidden flecks of gold that shimmer in the fading remnants of sunlight. Eyes that broadcast so many emotions in an instant that it's hard for Victoria to catch them all. Fear. Need. Anguish. Devotion.

It's those eyes that have rendered Victoria momentarily mute, trapped, like a doe transfixed by oncoming headlights.

Why was Kate looking at her like that, after all the antagonism, snide comments, and outright threats Victoria hurled her way over the past month?

And God, why couldn't Max look at her like that, even once?

Several seconds pass while the girls simply stare at each other in stunned silence, lips slightly parted from exertion. Quick, sharp breaths the only sounds passing between them. Little more than two feet of distance separates them now, with Victoria's hand still firmly gripping Kate's shawl.

It's Kate who ends this stalemate, her eyes somehow managing to widen even further and her face flushing a deep shade of crimson. Nervously she looks down at the ground, finally breaking the spell long enough for the Queen of Blackwell to quickly pull her hand back as though she'd been holding it to an open flame.

"Vi—Victoria!" the girl stammers, now seemingly fascinated by her shoes. "I was just—"

"Wh—" Victoria interrupts, doing her best to salvage that glare from before.

"What's the fucking rush, Glenn Close? Realize you had a bunny to boil all of a sudden?" Not the most biting taunt she'd come up with by a long shot, but it's the best she's managed to recover by this point.

Kate's face scrunches up with confusion and a touch of horror at the suggestion, causing Victoria's lips to purse in annoyance.

"… seriously? Fatal Attraction? Michael Douglas? She cooks… Jesus, do you even attend Film Literacy class?" She holds up a hand to forestall Kate's response before it begins. "Know what? Don't care. Get a nice eyeful back there or what?"

"I'm… I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…" Kate starts to tentatively reach out for Victoria's arm with her right hand, seemingly forgetting she was using that one to hold her sketchbook as it tumbles to the ground. "I was just worried about y—"

"Oh? And who the fuck made it your business to—"

Victoria's retort dies on her lips as the sketchbook flaps open from the impact, and a small, glossy square escapes its pages to skid along the grass toward her designer shoes. Again, she finds herself shocked into silence, this time at the sight of her own eyes staring back at her.

A tiny gasp erupts from Kate's lips as she sees what has captured the other girl's attention, and she takes an involuntary step backward, raising her hand up to cover her mouth as Victoria bends down to pick up the photo.

Of course, Victoria recognizes it instantly. Her blonde, perfectly coiffed hair that she'd spent half an hour getting just right before taking the shot. Her cute black top. Her eyes gazing longingly at the camera. An uncharacteristically sweet smile, one meant to be just for the image's viewer. One of her favorite selfies, especially since Max had gushed over how lovely and artful it was that one time. One that had disappeared from the collection she kept in the girl's locker room more than a week ago.

"You've… you've been in my locker?" she seethes. "You've stolen my shit?!"

"No!" Kate shouts, punctuating it with a shake of her head strenuous enough to send a few wispy strands of blonde hair flying loose from her bun. She lets go of her bag's shoulder strap to clutch the gold cross hanging from her neck. "I swear, I wouldn't—"

"Shut the fuck up."

Victoria continues to scan the picture in her hand, her mind racing. Kate's whole deal could be a pain in the ass sometimes, for sure, but she was mostly innocuous. Easy to ignore. A dark part of Victoria might have even enjoyed the attention, if not for the shit the crown-princess of abstinence had tried to pull with Nate a while back. Maybe that part of her still did, even so.

But this. This could get her expelled. Victoria wrenches her gaze from the picture finally, once again casting her furious glare at those hazel eyes that so captivated her moments ago. Eyes that are now ridden with guilt, glistening with tears that will soon begin their inexorable march down the girl's pale cheeks.

She'd never feel those eyes on her again.

…

"Whatever." She spits at last, and Kate flinches at the word. Victoria arches a perfectly shaped brow, her lips quirking into the shape of the sadistic little smirk she's infamous for. The one known to drive terror into anyone it happens to be directed at.

She doesn't need to get Kate expelled. This is power. This is conquest. Why would she want to give that up?

Keep your enemies close, right?

"Oh, Katie…" she draws the words out, taking the time to savor every syllable. "When they say 'Take a picture, it'll last longer' that's not quite how they mean it. But… at least you have good taste." With a flick of a manicured finger against its' edge, she sends the photo spinning back to the ground in front of Kate.

"Know what? Keep it. I most certainly do not want to know what you've been doing with it. Amusez-vous bien!"

The girl appears to be frozen in place, mouth still covered, clutching that cross for dear life. Hazel eyes locked onto the sweet, emerald-eyed visage in the grass before her. Without another word, Victoria breezes past her on the way to her dorm-room.

She doesn't even need to turn around to know that Kate, after just a moment of hesitation, is slowly bending down, her delicate hand shaking as she gently retrieves the photo.