Victoria's day starts with a frown as she can hear teenagers speaking in the distance, the noise echoing in the dormitory halls only to be muffled by the barrier of her door. She lazily brings an arm over her head, hoping to completely block them out – to no avail.
Releasing an irritated groan, she slowly opens her eyes, blinking a few dozen times to adjust to the stinging sensation. She is welcomed by the sight of her room, and as she suddenly remembers that oh – yes – right – she's actually a living being, she suddenly feels a pain similar to her brain pounding against her skull.
What happened the previous day then dawns on her - the party. The music. The vodka. Max. The rejection.
She presses her arm further against her face, somehow hoping that it would be enough to erase her existence, save her from the embarrassment.
She just can't believe she had actually tried to hit on Max. Max, the hipster, the waif, with her quirky attitude, snapping pictures of literally everything, thinking she's so special, and, and… oh, wait, no – she doesn't actually regret it. She does try hard to find the sinking guilt in her guts, but all she finds there is the pain from digesting all that alcohol.
She might feel ashamed, pathetic, worthless, perhaps even gross – but there certainly isn't any trace of regret in her.
Her introspection comes to a stop as the voices outside grow louder, so she extends her arm away from her face, and lazily pats the sheets. She finally finds her phone on the floor, and stretches her arm once more to reach for it and unlock it.
2:14 pm.
She would perhaps be surprised if she had enough energy to, only lifting a curious eyebrow. She sees five pending messages and taps at the screen to read them.
The first three were from Courtney, they contained a lot of typos and mostly consisted of her gushing over how crazy the party was. Courtney has always been the talkative drunk.
Victoria sighs and went to read her other two texts – both from Taylor.
'Hi Vicki, I saw you leave the party with Max, I didn't want to intrude but I hope everything is alright'
Please text me when you wake up'
As always, Taylor proves herself to be an attentive and caring friend. Oh, Courtney is a fun person to be around, no doubt, it is always a pleasure to go shopping with her and gossip about losers, specifically Max. But the queen bee has always felt closer to Taylor. She knows she can trust her friend, but she feels reluctant to in this situation – she has no wish to explain in details how and why exactly she feels so embarrassed.
She goes back to her list of contacts and nervously presses a finger on the name "Lamefield", displaying their conversation, the only message exchanged popping up. 'BTW THANX BUT WERE NOT FRIENDS'.
She almost wants to scoff at herself for how dumb her message sounds – she was completely at a loss after Max's strange show of kindness, and she had typed away excitedly at her phone without much thinking. That damn hipster somehow managed to make her feel at a loss, and Victoria hated that emotion.
But instead of dwelling into her own stupidity, she sighs a second time, realizing that indeed, Max hasn't texted her.
Of course she wouldn't. Max is an introvert. She probably replies only a quarter of the time, let alone actually initiating conversations.
And Victoria feels conflicted – her insides seemingly twitch at the idea that Max isn't concerned about her at all, whereas the mere thought of talking to the little hipster looks like the plague she needs to run away from. But she actually misses interacting with that loser, and she is suddenly filled with hopes that maybe, just maybe, she would get more from her if they were to speak again. But then again, the shame overtakes her optimism.
Her feelings cannot seem to make up their mind and she groans in frustration, her emotions still flickering inside her chest and stomach.
She closes her eyes, willing for this internal mess to stop, hoping that perhaps Morpheus would take her existence away from this world soon, but she knows she cannot go back to sleep now. Not only because it is late enough in the afternoon, but because she can feel her full bladder begging for her to get up.
Breathing a curse, she painfully and slowly gets up. She rolls her head, making her neck crack pleasantly, before stepping in front of her mirror.
Oh fuck, she looks awful.
Her brows are furrowed, making her puffy red eyes barely squinting open. She tries to soften her features, but her scowl seems to be permanently carved on her face. It doesn't help that her makeup has begun to fade away, thus making her look like some sort of panda. Heck, even her hair was a rebel mess.
She ponders for a second – she only needs to go to the toilet, is it really worth the trouble of actually fixing her makeup? She has seen every single teenager of this floor in their pajamas, and she takes pride in the fact only her two friends have seen hers. So, really, who the heck would care?
Deciding that looking great is part of a spectrum, she still runs a hand through her blonde locks before cleansing her face off the awful makeup.
She nods to herself – which hurts like hell – before heading out of her room.
Dana's door is open, and Victoria can vaguely hear Juliet speaking inside, her voice somewhat louder than usual.
"Victoria!"
She sees Courtney, walking towards her before she can even take a step forward. The girl stops right before her, excitement spread all over her facial features.
"I see you enjoyed the party? Your face screams hangover!" She giggles.
The queen bee groans, glancing at the ceiling as she rolls her eyes.
"Leave me alone, Courtney, I just want to take a piss."
"Oh, alright… Well I-I'll be in Taylor's room if you wanna stop by later…"
"Whatever."
She gestures her to go away before walking away. She spots Brooke and Stella who are exchanging what seems to be small talk, but she ignores them to focus on her original plan – which is to empty her plaintive bladder.
The mission complete, she steps out of the toilets and back into the corridor, ready to head back to her room.
Well, that was her intention.
But then she sees her, and her body instantly freezes.
Max Caulfield.
Leaning against the wall, a grin plastered on her face as her eyes stare at her smartphone, probably looking at a silly picture. Or reading a silly story. Or replying to a silly text. Whose text would it be?
Victoria has no time to ponder the question that Max's eyes lift up from the device to land on her – and she swears the entire universe has stopped. Her heart drops as she sees the freckled teen approaching her, she internally screams at her legs to run away but they are glued to the ground, and she is defenseless when Max raises her voice.
"Hello Victoria."
Oh shit, her lips moved, and Victoria suddenly wishes that her body would actually stay in place. It takes a few more seconds before her brain actually translates the words she heard and she gulps painfully, closing her eyes to block the sight of the other teen.
"I'll pretend that you just didn't talk to me as if we were friends or something."
She opens her eyes again and instantly makes her way to her room. A part of her feels heavy, so heavy, willing her to stay near the damn hipster, but she pushes through the weight to-
"Victoria."
Please, no.
"Get lost, Caulfield."
She doesn't want to talk to her. She doesn't want to see her. She doesn't want to know what that idiot wants from her, doesn't want to give her any kind of satisfaction after being rejected so shamelessly.
"Victoria, we need to talk."
The tone of her voice makes Victoria shivers – it is commanding, yet pleading, she can't quite decide, but it screams "important" and she finds it hard to resist.
"Please."
She definitely can't resist.
She glances behind her shoulder. Only Brooke remains in the corridor, and she seems too captivated by her videogame to pay any attention to the pair.
So Victoria nods, opening Max's door without her permission – she is still the queen, after all, and she can't allow that loser to forget.
She has been into this room before, unbeknownst to its owner, but standing in it with Max by her side feels… different. She grows painfully aware of the bed next to them and she has half a mind to throw Max on it, mainly to avoid whatever conversation they are about to have – or at least that's what she tells herself.
But she keeps still, turning around to face the hipster. She looks uncertain, awkward, and Victoria supposes that her presence in this room feels like an intrusion. A stranger, a bully, in an introvert's territory.
"So?" she inquires. She doesn't want to add anything to her question, doesn't want to guide Max into the conversation that will most likely be unpleasant. "Make it quick." She adds with a hint of a threat.
"Victoria, you know we need to talk about it…"
Straight into the pit, alright.
How can she act distant enough to keep face, yet be amiable enough that Max wouldn't hate her guts? Should she act dumb? Assume her actions with confidence?
She had to dive in, eventually.
"No, we don't."
Not too harsh, was it?
"Victo-"
"I mean it, we don't. You better not mention it to anyone, or I'll make you swallow your vocal cords."
She definitely failed on the "amiable enough" part.
"You don't have to threaten me, I have no intention of talking about it to anyone."
"Of course", the queen replies, her voice reeking of sarcasm.
"I mean it. I'm not the kind of person who'd try to ruin someone else's reputation." The hidden accusation stings. "But we need to talk about this, Victoria."
"There is nothing to say." If only her voice wouldn't waver.
"But I need to know… why?"
"Why?"
"Why did you do this? Or I mean, try to do this?"
It hurts, it hurts, more than she thought it would.
"What do you think?" Her throat hurts. "I was drunk. I couldn't think straight."
Oh, the unintended pun. Max seems to notice it too, as her lips – oh her lips – curve into a smile.
"Is that it? Is that really it?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It does."
Her grin becomes more defying, and she takes a step forward, her eyes boring into Victoria's, who can't help but look away.
She hates it – she hates the position she's in, she hates the power Max has over her. Her chest boils with anger and she clenches her jaw, trying to keep her calm, in vain.
She glances back at Max, and she is dying to fucking kiss that smirk off her face, to regain her control, make her regret, regret the nerve she had to reject her, regret the pain she caused, regret the tears she will never know Victoria has shed.
And amongst all this angst, she finally feels the regret.
Ultimately, she doesn't regret trying to kiss Max – she regrets having thrown her chance away. She wishes her mind had been clearer, she wishes she had actually given it more thought.
She wishes she had succeeded.
"Victoria…"
She hates – loves – the way Max keeps saying her name, and she hates – truly – herself for it.
Max's grin has faded away, her arrogance replaced with what seems to be concern. Victoria would revel in it if she wasn't so busy trying to resist her desires – all her body wants is to launch forward and wrap the petite girl in her arms, claim her lips and feel her warmth.
Maybe all she wants is for Max to regret not accepting her.
And maybe she can achieve that.
She may not be able to rewind time and erase her failure, but she definitely can make Max wish she could.
She forces her shoulders to shrug, trying to appear disdainful.
"What does it matter? You didn't want it. Which is fine." Well, it still hurts. "I may be a bully, but I wouldn't forcefully kiss someone who doesn't want it."
There, she dropped it, the k-word. She broke the taboo. She may not have directly popped the question, but it still felt as if she had actually screamed it.
She sees Max shift under her gaze, nervously rubbing her palm against her opposite arm.
"Victoria…" her name again. "There was no way I could have done this."
"Wh-"
What?
She bites down her question, swallows it, and ignores her stinging eyes – she can't let Max know how much her statement pains her – to look for a better way to express herself, but Max apparently notices her struggle.
"No, I mean!" she quickly adds. "I mean… you were drunk. Like, completely drunk, you couldn't even walk. You were so out of it and I… I couldn't take advantage of you. Not… not when you could have regretted it."
Her voice seemed to get caught in her throat, and as she looks down, eyes glued to the floor, it finally dawns on Victoria.
Of course.
Kate.
It makes so much sense now – why Max talked to her. Why she refused to leave her alone. Why she insisted on walking her to the dorms.
Why she went to the party.
It was all so she could prevent anyone – including Victoria – from knowing the same pain as Kate.
Max had been trying to protect her.
The realization hits Victoria like a wave, washes away all of her hatred and resentment, only to replace them with a warm feeling that settles in her chest.
Max had been genuinely worried about her.
"I'm…" Victoria begins, but pauses. "Sorry…" she mumbles.
The freckled teen shakes her head, finally looking back at the blonde.
"I am not looking for an apology."
"Then what?"
"Would you have regretted it?"
That stare again. Those blue eyes are trying to see past hers, into her thoughts, into her.
She can try to hide the truth behind the alcohol again, use it as a convenient excuse to justify her actions. But she knows Max would see through this lie.
"It… would have been interesting. That's all."
She needs to be distant enough.
"Is that so?"
The girl raises her eyebrow and sighs, disappointed. She shrugs, walking past her to sit at her desk, and Victoria understands that it is time for her to leave.
And she understands that Max could see through this lie, too.
.
Time has seemed to slow down before she bumps into Max again – literally.
It is only the next day. As she opens the door to the bathroom, her head still in the clouds, she feels her body collide with another. She readies a dozen of insults at whoever dared come in her way, only to become a flustered mess when she realizes the aforementioned body belongs to Max.
As embarrassed as she is, the memory still makes her heart stutter.
.
The week starts anew and she finds herself up an hour earlier than usual, busy trying different outfits to decide which one would fit her frame the best – looking for that one combination that would make heads turn and jaws drop.
She knows she has gone over this already, but simply shakes the thought away.
.
She sees Max fucking Caulfield at the cafeteria. She has ordered a chicken sandwich with mayonnaise and an orange juice. She is sitting with Kate Marsh, of all people.
What a loser, Victoria thinks as she absentmindedly chews on her salad.
.
"… Max…"
Victoria's neck almost snaps as her head perks up. She sees Nathan, ranting angrily about how the hipster's best punk friend has stood him up for the second time in a week.
She doesn't care, but there is no stopping the butterflies in her stomach from flapping even more passionately.
.
Okay, she is definitely going insane. She needs to stop.
But she clicks again, moving her cursor across the virtual page, displaying yet another picture of Max.
She stares at the screen as her eyes entirely swallow in the new photo. A photo of Max, trying to conceal her smile behind her hand, the other one holding a balloon against her hip. Her nearly naked hip. She is wearing a pink swimming suit and oh – gosh – Victoria needs to stop. Now, right now.
… But she right clicks on the picture instead.
No one would snoop into her computer files, right? Right?
.
No, she definitely has not decided to wear a button-shirt that would show her cleavage with the sole goal to attract hipsters.
And she definitely has not posted a selfie of herself with that same button-shirt on her Facebook wall.
Nor has she made it her profile picture to make it more visible.
No, definitely not.
.
Now that she thinks about it, Max does spend a lot of time with that religious chick. Can she possibly have feelings for her? Max did strongly imply that she was into girls – or had the alcohol been messing with her memories? No, no, she definitely did say that. But wouldn't she be more into her punk loser friend? They seem awfully close too.
Goddamn Caulfield.
.
So, apparently Jenny isn't actually straight and cheated on her boyfriend with Marina.
It somehow makes sense in Victoria's head – Marina is fucking gorgeous. She can't be compared to that loser Tim. But Shane is still a lot hotter.
Victoria's mind wanders, further and further away from the series, completely lost as she ponders how Max's body looks naked.
And she mostly definitely needs to take a shower.
.
It's not what it looks like.
She is staring at her shirt. Her shirt, mind you. Her stupid nerdy shirt that reads "Deer puns are so bucked up."
It's so stupid. And silly. Just like its owner. Who somehow managed to looks really great in that shirt. And who suddenly looks up to meet her eyes.
Crap, she has been caught. Staring at her shirt. Her shirt.
.
What if she hadn't been drunk on that day? Would have Max agreed to the kiss?
.
She doesn't think much about it when she buys a new perfume – after all, she has finished her previous one.
But she definitely questions her intentions when she finds herself sitting closer to Max during class, silently praying that she would notice the new scent.
How stupid.
.
She somehow finds herself in Max's room. Without Max.
She doesn't even know why she is there, she doesn't know what she's looking for, but the hipster hasn't been talking to her at all for nearly two weeks now, and Victoria has no idea what to do. She wants to know. But she doesn't know what she wants to know.
She feels frustrated, so frustrated.
Fortunately, she has recently found a way to release her frustration.
And hopefully, the hipster wouldn't notice that one of her shirt is missing.
.
An A+. She has got an A+ on her photography project. Mr. Jefferson is even praising her initiative in front of the whole class, and she instinctively turns her head to Max.
She is smiling. At her.
A small, sincere smile, her eyes sparkling with pride.
She looks so beautiful.
Victoria can swear her heart is making backflips.
.
It is Saturday again, and it has officially been two weeks since they last talked.
And as Max brushes past Victoria in the corridor, she decides that she has had enough.
Turning back on her heels, she rushes to the hipster, grabbing her sweater and practically throwing her inside her hipster room.
"V-Vict-wh… What are you-" the girl questions, trying to release herself from the queen bee's grasp.
"What the heck is wrong with you?" Victoria cuts in, letting the hipster go.
"I should be the one asking that!"
Victoria slaps a hand to her own forehead, a useless attempt at concealing her frown. She slides the hand to her mouth and stares at Max, strongly wishing that thoughts could surpass words. But Max only tilted her head to the side, obviously not reading minds yet.
"You've been giving me the cold shoulder…"
Oh gosh she sounds so childish.
"And I believe I haven't done anything to deserve it", she quickly adds. "So, why the heck are you ignoring me?"
She must have said something incredibly stupid, because the grin spreading on Max's face is enough to make her regret every word she has just spurted.
"Oh, you think it's funny?"
"No, no, it's not funny… it's just… I didn't think you would be so upset over me not speaking to you."
"I am not upset."
Max sighs, and she gives her that look again – that look, a mix of disappointment and desperation. A look that directly questions Victoria's sincerity.
"I just… expected you to talk to me…" she admits as her gaze scrutinizes the walls and anywhere Max isn't.
"I thought there was nothing for us to talk about?"
Victoria shifts her weight, uncomfortable. She isn't used to honesty, but nor is she used to her heart dancing in her chest the way it does.
Her brain is filled with questions, and answers, and possibilities – but as she tries to make sense of it all, her thoughts stumble upon another, forming a mess of incoherency that she can't possibly put into words.
Only one thought stands out from the others.
I wish I could kiss you.
But that is one wish she can't allow herself to formulate.
She frowns, cringes, taking a step back, ready to leave in defeat – which is silly, really, a Chase would never admit defeat. But she feels that there is nothing she can do. She can't go back, but she can't go forward either.
Max seems to grow aware of her inner struggles, as she takes a step further, maintaining the distance between them.
"Was it really just because it would have been interesting to kiss me?"
She gulps.
"Do you really think it didn't mean anything?"
Her heart stutters and her thoughts swarm inside her mind.
She closes her eyes, wills her mind and emotions into submission. She has to remain calm. She can't mess this up. Not again.
She takes a deep breath and shakes her head.
"It did."
Oh fuck, she said it.
She hears Max taking another step further, and when she opens her eyes, she notices how painfully close they are.
She instinctively glances at her lips.
She really just wants to lean in now.
The temptation is almost painful.
Max wraps her hand around hers.
"It did for me too."
Her heart is going insane.
She has not figured it out yet, she cannot wrap her mind around whatever the fuck she is feeling.
All she knows is that she wants Max. She wants Max so badly, but she knows it isn't about sex, nor is it about owning her. Because it means a lot more than merely acquiring a new possession, and her feelings run a lot deeper than simply seeking hormonal release.
She needs to feel her close, closer, to be the only one permitted to touch her, to see a side of her only she is allowed to witness.
"I wish I could kiss you."
She feels two hands rest on her waist and she instinctively gets closer the warmth, their chests lightly touching.
"Well, you haven't drunk, have you?" she hears, a voice sounding a little hoarse.
She smiles for a brief second – a sincere, honest smile – before raising her hands to gently cup those freckles cheeks.
And she leans in, slowly.
She pauses for a second, giving Max a final chance to change her mind – but she doesn't, and Victoria closes the last inch separating their lips, letting them brush against one other slowly. Just a feathery caress, and it feels soft, unbelievably so.
But she quickly grows hungry for more and she presses her lips fully against Max's, trying to feel the shape of her mouth against her own. Their breath mix together, their noses lightly bumping against one other, and she swears she can almost hear Max's heart beating against her.
She pulls Max's closer to her, moving her lips gently yet firmly, and she feels the reciprocation - and something deep within in her screams thatthis is so right.
She lets one of her hand wanders into brown locks, grasping a little more tightly, but she still kisses her slowly. She can feel Max's jaw moving, trying to get as much contact as she can, and her mind feels so giddy she thinks she is going to faint – but Max's arms are wrapping around her waist and holding her tight and she feels so safe.
Her heart aches for more, she wants to just share something with her, something special, something unique, that only they could access.
She wants her on a level that transcends physical need.
But she knows that her desire will only grow the longer the kiss lasts, and as hard as it is to stop, she reluctantly does.
She opens her eyes slowly and is pleased to see Max's are still closed, only fluttering open a second later. She isn't quite sure what emotion exactly she is reading into these blue eyes, but she is convinced she wants Max to keep looking at her this way.
"Tell me this won't be the only time…"
She tries to make the words sound commanding, controlling, but they only come out as a whisper close to pleading.
Max gently pecks at her lips, smiling against her.
And it is the comfort she needs.
They hold onto each other tightly for a few more minutes, before Max finally untangles their bodies, much to Victoria's dismay.
"Mh, by the way, Victoria."
Max flashes an arrogant smirk.
"Can you give my shirt back, please?"
Finally, there it is. I'm sorry it took so long, and I honestly hope that this lives up to your expectations after the first chapter. I hope no one expected a mature chapter, because I really can't write anything sexual. I am still personally convinced that Victoria craves for affection.
Also, there are a lot of little scenes in this chapter, and I wanted to use the website's horizontal line to separate them, but since this feature doesn't always work very well (and completely doesn't work if you're using the mobile app) I used periods/dots instead. I'm sorry if it looks ugly. :(
(By the way, the part about Jenny, Tim, Marina and Shane is a reference to The L Word (a very popular lesbian show). You don't really need to understand what it means aside from the fact Victoria is watching a lesbian show.)