Max dredged towards her first class, dragging her feet in the process. The first week at Blackwell had been quite interesting. She had adapted better than she anticipated to living in dorms, although sharing a bathroom with that many girls was still strange. It didn't get any easier if one of the showers had two occupants instead of one - a more common occurrence than it should have been. Max took to showering in the morning to avoid such nonsense. Apparently, no one was willing to wake up for a fun romp in the showers.
This, of course, left her rather tired. Her floor companions usually stayed up well into the night. Sometimes, they had a private dance party in one of the rooms. Other times, there was some drama duel between two girls, usually solved in the form of screaming at one another. But more often than not, girls just hung out in the hallway and chatted. Usually outside of Victoria's room, which practically neighbored Max's. It was hard to sleep when she could clearly hear all the latest Blackwell gossip and drama through the thin walls. And every now and again, someone would bang something around or laugh just a bit too loud, and Max would wake right back up.
Max's problems with sleeping stemmed back to when she was little. Her teddy bear had been a constant companion for her, to keep away the evil monsters that plagued her imagination every time the lights turned off. But it had only slightly helped. Max still spooked at every creak and groan in the house. Eventually, she simply accepted the fact that she would never be able to enjoy a "zonked sleep" like Chloe. Then again, she also never really could sleep over at Chloe's house thanks to the girl's incessant tossing and turning. They just committed on not sleeping, instead reading stories until daybreak.
Those were the good days. I should totally contact Chloe. Tomorrow.
Despite being "home," Max had yet to bring herself to contacting her "BFF." It was mostly rooted in the fact that she felt so damn guilty. For five years, she all but disappeared off the face of the planet. She knew it was wrong, but she also didn't know how to face Chloe. Her father had died, and Max had been dragged out of her life by her parents. Max didn't want to leave, but she wondered if Chloe even wanted her around. She would be crushed if the answer was "no," but she wouldn't blame Chloe for feeling that way. Not after the way she treated her.
"Whoa, zombie alert!" a teasing voice called out. A hand waved in front of her face. "Earth to Max."
Max blinked back to the present, her eyes focusing on the familiar, friendly face. His brown eyes gleamed as a smile stretched almost from ear-to-ear. He walked with a bounce in his step, and Max couldn't understand how he was that energized. "Hey, Warren. What's up?"
"Just fighting off the zombie apocalypse, looks like," he jested. He checked Max from head to toe. She was wearing a plain, white tank today with a vibrant dream-catcher on it, complete with watercolor feathers. Her faded blue jeans completed the look. Honestly, she had just pulled on the first things she found that were clean. "You look like you came right out of Zombieland. Everything alright?"
Well, you officially look like shit, Max Caulfield, if even Warren's saying so.
Max nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, I just haven't been sleeping well. New environment and all."
"Oh, man, yeah, I totally get ya," Warren said, nodding animatedly. It certainly didn't look like he understood, given how perky he was. "You know what helps me? Movies. I watch a movie as I'm falling asleep, and I am gone."
I doubt listening to some action hero get shot at will help me sleep.
"I haven't tried that yet," she offered, trying to be nice about it. After all, Warren was only trying to help her. "Got any recommendations?"
Warren's smile broadened. "You have no idea. I got a flash drive with all sorts of movies on it. There's bound to be something there you'll enjoy. It's back in my dorm room, but I can run back and snag it if you want."
"Thanks, but you can give it to me later. There's really no rush," Max said, waving a hand dismissively. She really couldn't deal with much more energy this morning. It seemed to sap whatever she had left from her.
Warren nodded and fell in step, slowing his own pace to match hers. "You should stop by my science class later. I've got something wicked to show you," he whispered, winking.
Uneasy by the double entendre, Max shifted uncomfortably. She knew that Warren was interested in her, although she couldn't conceive why. They had known each other just over a week now, and Max wasn't the type to jump into bed with anyone. Frankly, she wanted to get to know him better without the stress of dating looming overhead. Now, it seemed that everything he did was to vie for her affections. It felt remarkably… faux.
Shifting her bag, Max decided to ignore the comment. "Let's get to class," she encouraged with a smile.
Warren nodded, walking with her down the hallway. They had the same AP English course, which is what helped their friendship blossom outside of orientation. Walking in, Max noticed that Mrs. Hoida had already started writing notes on the board. Mrs. Hoida was Max's favorite literature teacher ever. She nurtured free thought and critiques about all their readings. Max felt comfortable voicing her own opinion there. Mrs. Hoida gazed out.
"Today, we shall be discussing Shakespeare's Hamlet," she said. The board was covered with names of Hamlet characters, some of which Max didn't recognize. She got out her small book and opened it. It was the one Mrs. Hoida had handed to her, complete with small notes made my previous students as well as a few bits of dick graffiti.
Sitting on her desk, Mrs. Hoida said, "Shakespeare was the master of language. Particularly subtext. The art of stating something without actually saying the words. Implications run rampant throughout the play. Insults are exchanged under the guise of simple notes or even mad musings. Subtext is probably the most fearsome item in a writer's repertoire."
Max pulled out her notepad for English and opened to a fresh page. In her own personal scrawl, she wrote, "Subtext" in large letters on the first line. She found it difficult to concentrate, her mind wandering back to her earlier encounter. She felt bad for Warren. It wasn't his fault that he was so open. It was just a part of who he was. He pursued things that he enjoyed. And it was obvious that he enjoyed Max. But it was going to make the subsequent refusal later that much harder. She wondered just how long it would be before he outright informed her that he wanted to date her. To be certain, she wasn't going to bring it up before that point.
Warren's super sweet, though. He deserves a girlfriend who matches.
Max had never been much of one for relationships. Friendships were her bread and butter, ever since she met Chloe. Although she had tried to date a few times, they had always ended awkwardly after the first date. She was the common denominator. For whatever reason, she just never truly felt comfortable with anyone since Chloe Price. And whenever her partner pushed for more, Max pulled away. She had never even kissed someone outside of an unromantic peck on the lips.
"Miss Caulfield?" Mrs. Hoida pressed, her voice sharply cutting through Max's musings. "Do you have an answer?"
Uh-oh, dazed off for too long. Shit, Max, think of something.
Glancing around, Max desperately tried to figure out where the lecture had moved on to. Warren met her gaze before casually pointing at his notebook. Max could barely make out his chicken scratch, but the words were "double entendre?"
"A double entendre is a word or phrase open to multiple interpretations, although usually limited to just two," Max answered, hoping that had covered well enough.
Mrs. Hoida relaxed. "Very good," she said before turning back to the board. "Now, in Hamlet, there are quite a few prime examples of double entendre. Turn to page…"
Max wrote "Thanks" on her notebook and flashed it to Warren, who gave her a thumbs up. She quickly marked it out before continuing her notes. Mrs. Hoida clearly wasn't putting up with daydreamers today, and she didn't want to get Warren in trouble if he got caught helping her. Although she kept her pen moving, some of her notes were nonsensical even to herself. Just mindless babble to make it appear as though she was engaged with the content.
Her mind wandered again. Alyssa, who was usually quiet in photography, actively raised her hand for this class. It seemed that literature was truly her niche. There had been moments in the past where she got completely swept up in a conversation with Mrs. Hoida that left the two of them engrossed for ten minutes before the teacher recalled where they were. She would then tell Alyssa they would continue the discussion later if she wanted before returning to teaching the class.
Alyssa's hand was currently shot in the air. Her eyes were wide with desperation, her mouth dropped slightly open. Her dyed hair was lopsided on her shoulders, as one shoulder was stretched higher than the other. The higher the hand, the better chance of being picked, right? At least, that seemed to be what Alyssa believed. Max's hand found her camera instinctively. She loved Alyssa's passion - her desperation to converse about something she loved. Max had never experienced something like it herself, too shy to open up like that.
It was only after the camera automatically spat out the photo that Max realized what she had done. All eyes landed on her, and she could feel her face begin to heat with embarrassment.
"Maxine Caulfield!" Mrs. Hoida rebuked.
Grimacing upon hearing her full name, Max sheepishly looked at her teacher. The woman was on her feet now, hands on her hips. Her mouth was stretched into a strained line, her eyes never once wavering from the girl.
Oh, man, she's super pissed.
"I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Hoida," she started, her mind grasping for any reason for her actions. "It's just that… I just… took the shot… like Mr. Jefferson said to do." Max's brain caught up after her mouth moved, and she could have eaten her own shoe. Did she really just blame Mr. Jefferson for her lack of judgement? She sank further into her seat.
Time to melt into the ground, Max. Quickly.
Mrs. Hoida's eyes narrowed. She strode over to Max's desk with long strides."Are you telling me that Mr. Jefferson gave you permission to take photos whenever you so desire? With no regard for anyone else?" she snapped, snatching the photo from Max's camera and waving it about.
Worrying her lower lip, Max hesitated as she tried to think of a reply that wouldn't amount to her being in more trouble than before. "Th-that's-"
"Miss Caulfield, come with me," Mrs. Hoida ordered.
Max tried not to wince. She had never seen Mrs. Hoida so angry before. Once they were outside the room, Max stammered, "I-it won't happen again, Mrs. Hoida. I-I-I'm so sorry I disrespected you. That was never my intention. Please, believe me!"
"No, I know exactly who was disrespecting me," Mrs. Hoida declared as she stormed down the stairs. Max scrambled to keep up, surprised just how quickly Mrs. Hoida could walk. She stopped sharply in front of a class door and pounded on it. She finished, "And if he feels that he can disrupt my class, he has another thing coming."
Max blanched. After a second, the door opened. Mr. Jefferson stood on the other side, looking at Mrs. Hoida then Max in surprise. "Mrs. Hoida, may I help you?"
"Step outside, Jefferson," Mrs. Hoida ordered. "And close the door behind you."
Mr. Jefferson glanced back to his class. "Get working on that in-class assignment. I'll be just a minute." With that, he stepped out and closed the door behind him. His eyes landed on Max again. Once more, she felt as though they pinned her down. He had a keen eye to be sure, but Max squirmed with the knowledge that he was not just looking at her. She was being seen. "And what might this be about?"
"Miss Caulfield here took a picture in the middle of my lecture, disrupting my class," Mrs. Hoida explained, her voice cold and stern. Even as she spoke, Mr. Jefferson never took his eyes from Max. He was examining her carefully. Max wrapped an arm across herself nervously in reply. "She says she did it with your permission."
Max could taste the bile in her mouth. Right now, her second favorite teacher was angry with her favorite teacher without cause. She wished that she had spoken clearer instead of just stammering her way into an accidental excuse. Clearly, she had caused more problems than her picture was worth.
I wish I could turn back time.
Mr. Jefferson let his surprise reflect on his face. Finally, he looked back at Mrs. Hoida. "Did she now?"
"Yes. Apparently, you told her to 'take the shot' without consideration that there's a time and place for these kinds of things," Mrs. Hoida responded, thrusting the photo Max took into his hands. Mr. Jefferson looked down at it, and a smile tugged at his lips. "I will not tolerate instituted dissent in my classroom. We are not all subject to your art, no matter what you might think. And honestly, Jefferson, I'm disappointed in you. We might have disagreed on-"
"It's an assignment for class," Mr. Jefferson suddenly cut in, not letting her continue. Max tried not to balk at the blatant lie. "They're supposed to 'take the shot' of average school life. So many adults, including ourselves, forget what it's like to be a student. I did warn them about in-class shots, but Max here is one of my more passionate students. I'm sorry if this disrupted your class, as that hadn't been my intention when assigning it. I will make sure to emphasize the importance of academic pursuit. It will not happen again."
Mrs. Hoida appeared dissatisfied with the answer, but she couldn't object further. He had seceded on every point she cared about. "See that it doesn't," she remarked, turning on her heels. As she stalked off, she casually threw back, "Or I'm going to start assigning detentions!"
Turning as well, Max went to follow, not knowing why she had to be there for the exchange. She was not going to be able to look Mr. Jefferson in the eye today. Especially not when he covered for her without a second thought. No doubt, he had spared her immense humiliation. It might be hard for her to go to Mrs. Hoida's class tomorrow, but it wouldn't be impossible.
"Max, a second." Mr. Jefferson looked at Max with raised eyebrows. He clearly was expecting an explanation.
Max turned back and sheepishly murmured, "I didn't tell her you told me to take the picture, Mr. Jefferson. I swear. I just got over eager."
"I know, Max, but don't do it again. You only get one 'get out of jail free' card for passionate photography," he told her before nodding towards Mrs. Hoida, who was already starting back up the stairs. "You better get back to class."
Nodding, Max started off when she remembered herself. She turned back to find Mr. Jefferson reaching to open the door. She remarked, "By the way, Mr. Jefferson?" He stopped from opening the door and looked at her. "Thanks. What you did for me was supercool."
Mr. Jefferson brought a finger to his lips. "Just don't tell anyone else." With that, he walked back into his classroom.
Max jogged down up the stairs to catch up with Mrs. Hoida. Together, they walked back in, and the class dropped into an utter silence. Max bit back a sigh. Just as the gossip about her fight with Victoria was starting to die, this had to happen. Now the school would be buzzing again with her name on their lips. Sitting down, Max glanced at Warren, who looked at her with apprehension. Obviously, he was braced to find out the worst. It would have to wait until after class, though. She couldn't afford to upset Mrs. Hoida any more than she already had.
Class dragged, each minute crawling by so slowly that Max felt like she had been there for hours. Her eyes kept finding the clock, desperately willing for it to move. It remained indifferent to her plight, though, ticking by at its own pace. Finally, the bell rang to release them. Max all but ran from the room, desperately avoiding Mrs. Hoida in the process.
"Whoa, Maximum Ride, slow down!" Warren called out, catching up and grabbing her arm. He used it as leverage to turn her around to face him. Worry etched across every feature. "What happened? Did you get detention?"
Max shook her head. "No, just a warning. I still can't believe I did that, though."
"Yeah, that was pretty ballsy," Warren agreed, letting her go. He fell in stride with her again, walking down the hall with her "Everyone thought you were going to be suspended when she took you out of the room."
Same.
"Well, there definitely won't be a second chance," Max concurred as she walked down the hall. Already, Victoria was chatting up Mr. Jefferson outside of his classroom. She was batting her eyelashes and flashing the largest smile Max had ever seen. She didn't understand how Victoria could do all that with a straight face. Max suppressed her annoyance before giving Warren a wave as he turned towards his science classroom. "Try not to blow anything up!"
Warren laughed. "You know I can't promise that."
Max silently slid past Victoria and Mr. Jefferson, not even glancing at either of them. It was already going to be hard enough to concentrate without her concerning herself over Victoria. Honestly, she could throw herself at Mr. Jefferson all she wanted. He had already made it clear that he wasn't interested, and Max doubted that was going to change any time soon.
"Oh, Max," Mr. Jefferson called out, causing her to stop. Max reluctantly turned around and avoided meeting Victoria's hateful gaze.
God, she's such a bitch. And I hate using that word.
"Y-yes, Mr. Jefferson?" Max managed.
Victoria rolled her eyes. Oblivious to her, Mr. Jefferson motioned for Max's hand. Max offered it, a little confused. "I thought I should return this," he said as he handed her back the picture. "I can see why you love your analog camera. To instantly receive the moment that you captured in the palm of your hand. No need to hurry over to the computer to manipulate it. Certainly, it has its appeal. And I think you should give this to Alyssa. It's a wonderful shot of her. Let's hope she feels the same way."
Max nodded before looking down at it. Frozen in time. Forever engaged. Passion always burning. Max couldn't help but love the fact that photography could do that. Life consisted of little moments, most of which went without notice. People simple never admired what was happening to them or next to them. But photographers did. They could frame a family walking together and evoke emotions from complete strangers. It truly spoke to Max's soul.
But now wasn't the time for that. Nervously, Max walked over to Alyssa, who was engrossed in a book. Alyssa spared her but a moment before curtly asking, "What do you want, Max? Or are you here to take another picture?"
"Uh, I wanted… Well," Max tried to explain, floundering at the curt response. She didn't want Alyssa to misunderstand her intentions. "I wanted to say I am sorry. I didn't think about you when I took that picture. I just thought about getting the shot."
Alyssa glared at Max from over her book. "What do you plan on doing with it? Post it up on social media for everyone to make fun of Alyssa the Book Worm?"
"Well, I wanted to give it to you," Max confessed before holding out the picture. "I know you might not believe me, but I took it because I wanted to capture your passion for literature. I-I've never been really good with expressing my own passion. The fact that you're so comfortable is amazing... and really cool."
Guarded, Alyssa took the photo and looked at it for a long moment. Her face gave away nothing. "Thanks, Max. I guess."
"We cool?"
Using the picture as her bookmark, Alyssa closed the book. "Yeah, we're cool," she concurred.
That's one disaster averted.
Now, if she could stop making a fool of herself, that would be nice.