Max was having a bad day, to say the least. Victoria and her cronies kept her up until 2AM with their asinine gossip. And, unfortunately, Max wound up turning her alarm clock off in her sleep. A scathing text message had woken her instead. Her mother had written to her explaining she was "disappointed" that Max had "forgotten" them. Max went to answer only to realize the time. Class had started 5 minutes previous. Dressing as fast as she could, she left her room in a disheveled state.
Mrs. Hoida was at least forgiving, much to Max's surprise. After all, it was only last week when she disrupted the class. But she merely told Max to sit down when she stumbled in 10 after the hour. Perhaps Mrs. Hoida sympathized, seeing Max's full exhaustion. Max hadn't the time to put on makeup, and her eye-bags were on display for the whole world to see. Honestly, Tuesdays were quickly becoming the bane of her school week.
Not that Warren was picking up on Max's mood whatsoever. He was jabbering on about something to do with his science class. Usually, Max loved to hear Warren get his nerd on. He was cute when he was passionate. But being around people right now just worsened her mood. She just wanted to listen to some Syd Matters songs and relax a few minutes.
Maybe I should slip into the girl's bathroom for a minute...
Suddenly, Warren swung an arm around Max's shoulder. "So, I've been thinking," he said, his face dangerously close to hers, "that maybe you and I should catch a bus into town this weekend. You could show me around. Give me the Max Experience Tour."
Max attempted to squirm away, but clueless Warren simply moved with her. "There's not really much to see in Arcadia Bay outside of the lighthouse," she said, matter-of-fact.
"The goal wouldn't be to see things. It would be for us to get to spend some time together," Warren pointed out. He was getting braver, it seemed, in stating his true intentions.
Now more uncomfortable, Max tried to figure out a way to properly decline that wouldn't hurt Warren's feelings. He was such a nice guy, after all. She knew that he would make some girl happy. She simply doubted she was the right girl. "I-I don't know."
"C'mon, Max! It'll be fun." Warren was now looking at her in desperation. Those puppy dog eyes were hard to refuse.
"I really don't-" Max started to reply.
"Well, well, Max Caulfield. Take any photos today?" Mr. Jefferson inquired as he stepped up to the pair. His movements forced Warren to release Max and take a step back to make room.
Max offered Mr. Jefferson a genuine smile, a bit at a loss as what to do with his attention. "N-no, Mr. Jefferson."
"Nothing caught your eye?" Mr. Jefferson inquired, glancing over at Warren.
Scowling, Warren crossed his arms. He was clearly displeased by the fact that he had been interrupted in the middle of the conversation. However, he was too respectful of teachers to outright say so. Max, in part, was grateful for the intervention. "And you, Mr. Jefferson?"
"I went to the beach and took some sunrise shots. I've been trying nature as a muse for the last few weeks. Seeing how a different setting alters my sight," Mr. Jefferson remarked.
Max tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
"You have to consider different angles for nature in comparison to other people. Angles that I have gotten used to ignoring. It's always good to push your own limitations," Mr. Jefferson said. The warning bell rang. With that, he looked at Warren. "Best be off to class, no? I'll see you in a minute, Maxine."
"It's just Max!" Max shouted after him as he sauntered down the hall.
"So that's the famous Mr. Jefferson," Warren commented. His scowl hadn't budged an inch. "He seems... pretentious."
Max heard a hint of jealousy. "He just says what he thinks," she pointed out. "I appreciate it. Even if I don't agree with everything he says, I can at least understand why he says it."
"I suppose," Warren mumbled, clearly not wanting to give way on the subject. Reinvigorated, he looked back at Max. "Seriously, though, consider my offer. It could make for a fun weekend."
Max forced a smile to her face. "I… I'll consider it. But I doubt-"
"Thanks, Max!" Warren called out before sprinting off. His classroom was on the second floor. No doubt he would be arriving just on time to be considered tardy.
Ducking into Mr. Jefferson's class, Max sat down at her table and began to unpack her things. His class was by far her favorite. Mr. Jefferson was always usually so animated albeit also long-winded. His rants sometimes left Max scrambling to take notes. At one point or another, she usually gave up and just committed to listening. She just prayed it wouldn't be on a test when she did, though.
Mr. Jefferson stood at the front of the room, his eyes scanning from student to student. He usually would take a moment, Max noticed, to let them calm down once the second bell had rung. "Today, we're going to be discussing-"
"Mr. Jefferson," Victoria called out, not even caring to raise her hand. Sometimes, Victoria's brashness stunned Max. She could never imagine cutting a teacher off mid-sentence. Particularly not Mr. Jefferson.
Sighing, Mr. Jefferson said, "Yes, Victoria?"
"Rumor has it that there's going to be a contest soon," she explained. "Is that true?"
"Yes. Now, as I was saying, today we're going to be discussing a new opportunity for you to take the most important step as artists: putting your work out there. Thus, Blackwell Academy will be participating in the famous 'Everyday Heroes' contest. The winner will take a trip to San Francisco, where you'll be feted by the art world. It's great exposure, and it can kickstart a career in photography." With that, Mr. Jefferson began to pass out flyers.
Oh, wowsers.
By now, everyone had straightened up. Even Max. Such opportunities were rare, especially for a competition to be as small as Blackwell's pool of participants. Max took a flyer and looked down at it. An everyday hero. What even was an everyday hero? Her mind immediately went to the obvious: police officers, military, firemen, first responders…. Everyone would submit photos like that. Instead, she needed to find something unique.
"I expect everyone to enter. The deadline is October 9th, which gives you almost a month. I would advise you to think carefully before submitting a photo. This is a serious competition, not homework." With that, Mr. Jefferson returned to his place in front of Daniel's table. "Speaking of homework…"
Max reached down into her bag. She pulled out her journal, notebook, pencil bag, camera… Then her heart sank. Checking the pockets, she became more frantic as each one turned up empty.
Are you shitting me? Could this day get any worse?
"Max? Your photograph?" Mr. Jefferson pressed, standing in front of her.
Shoulders slumping, Max mumbled, "I'm sorry, Mr. Jefferson. I must have forgot it in my room."
Mr. Jefferson frowned with displeasure. "Never forget your work, Max."
Victoria sneered, "It's fine, Mr. Jefferson. We all know it's just another one of her selfies."
Taylor laughed. Blood rushed to Max's face. Anger superseded embarrassment. Although she couldn't deny that many of her homework projects had amounted to her taking a selfie, she hated the fact that Victoria always implied that she was subpar because of it. Why couldn't she see that instant selfies were also a wonderful form of expression? It seemed Mr. Jefferson was the only one who truly understood.
"Shh," Mr. Jefferson replied. Sitting back in her chair, Victoria quieted down. "Max, I'll let you bring your photograph to me after school, but I will have to deduct points for lateness."
"Yes, Mr. Jefferson," Max replied numbly. She sank back into her seat and frowned. Mr. Jefferson's class was the one course she was doing really well at. Every other class, her grade was a strong B. But Max cared about this class. If it was the only one she received an A in then she would consider her year at Blackwell a success.
You can't do that if you're just going to forget your homework, dummy.
Mr. Jefferson set the photographs on his desk. "Today, we're going to talk about 'the decisive moment,' an idea which has defined street photography and photojournalism as we know it. Now, does anyone know who coined this term?"
"Henri Cartier-Bresson," Victoria immediately answered. She then smiled smugly at Taylor.
"Very good, Victoria. Cartier-Bresson believed that there were magical split-second moments in the world. Not magical like Harry Potter, before any of you get smart. But in that second, there existed a perfect visual harmony: interactions between people, movement, light, and form. Cartier-Bresson believed that photographers deal with moments which are constantly vanishing. And once they have vanished, nothing can bring them back again. Therefore, a photographer must be attentive, inconspicuous, and trust their instincts. They must always respond to reality, never trying to manipulate it into something it's not. He believed the integrity of a photo was in its honest reflection."
Max listened as Mr. Jefferson continued with the importance of knowing one's own equipment. Split-second moments couldn't be captured if one was too busy fumbling with camera settings. The rest of the class consisted of Mr. Jefferson analyzing everyone's choice of capture. He spent the most time talking about Max's analog camera. He noted that he appreciated the divergence from the digital world, an aspect sometimes forgotten in modern society, and how it was perfect for such moments because the photo came out the instant the moment ended. Although Max tried to take heart, she couldn't help but notice Victoria's growing jealousy. It was probably best not to gloat. By the end of it, he assigned for them to find their own split-second wonder. An assignment that would be due at the beginning of next week.
The bell rang, and Victoria descended upon Mr. Jefferson as a vulture would a carcass. It seemed that every day, she was trying her best to win Mr. Jefferson over. Sometimes - more often than Max cared to admit - she was a bit worried that Victoria was succeeding. Her mind flashed back to earlier, when Mr. Jefferson had stepped in. Max had felt a rush when he spoke to her and her alone. Being her idol aside, there was certainly something addicting about having his full attention. She didn't get it often, but when she did, it left her craving more.
She made her decision. Collecting her items, Max slung her bag back over her shoulder. She exited the classroom and turned left instead of right. She pushed open the front door as that thought drifted into her mind. As soon as her feet hit the pavement, she started to jog. Victoria would stall him for at least ten minutes before he pardoned himself for lunch. It would be enough time. She took the steps by twos before rushing into the dorms. Up the stairs she went, slightly berating herself for being so out of shape.
Max burst into her room and immediately began her hunt. She rifled through drawers, cleaned up her sofa, even checked all of her folders. Finally, she turned to her desk. She searched on it, checking the books littered about. Lifting her laptop, she watched her photo fall to the floor. No wonder she missed it that morning in the whirlwind of trying to get to class. Snatching it up, she spun on her heels and was out the door. She pushed herself back across the grounds. By then, most of the students had filed into the cafeteria. Time was running out. Jogging down the hall, she saw Mr. Jefferson just outside his classroom, locking his door. He looked at Max quizzically as she rushed over.
"Here," she panted out, shoving the picture in his hands.
"Max, I said after school, not after class," he reminded her.
"I know. But I just wanted to prove that I had done my homework. I just forgot it," she managed to say. She placed her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.
I need to start exercising more.
Mr. Jefferson looked at her photo. The assignment had been to take a picture of some part of the weather. He didn't particularly care what type of weather either. A shot of a clear, blue sky could be just as impressive as a thunderstorm. It depended on the students to discover what they truly wished to capture. But he had given them a week since weather "wasn't exactly a cooperative model."
Max had taken a few shots, but she was never quite happy with them. That Sunday, though, the skies had opened and drenched the campus. Despite living in Seattle, Max still saw a beauty in rain. She might not love it as much as she used to, but that hardly mattered to her. This was her moment. She felt it in her core. Thus, she grabbed her camera and tripod. She set up the tripod under the dorm's awning, shielding her camera from the damaging rain. Then she found her angle: a perfect shot of a puddle, still being filled by the rain. A few timers later, and she had her shot.
It wasn't quite a selfie. The only part of Max that was in the shot was her rain boots, which were captured just sinking into the puddle to cause a splash. Water sprang both up and fell down. A second of childish behavior on her part, to be sure. But she felt it also captured something. What, she wasn't sure, but something was there.
And given Mr. Jefferson's expression, she hadn't been wrong. "You truly have a gift, Max," he murmured softly, looking up at her.
"Do I?" Max breathed out the words, almost scared of the answer. She hadn't wanted to sound so desperate. She didn't want him thinking she was fishing for compliments. But this was her idol speaking to her. His words meant everything to her.
Mr. Jefferson chuckled. "Yes. You can find the purest moments in life. Whilst everyone else tried to become a National Geographic photographer, you found the innocence in weather. You made it about human nature, blending both aspects. You should be proud. Although this does put me in quite a conundrum."
Confused, Max asked, "Why do you say that?"
"Because I will always give the best photograph the highest grade, if only by a point or two. Unfortunately for me, your photograph happens to be the best. But I also said I would reduce points due to you being late handing it in. Now, how am I going to grade the other photographs fairly by comparison? Do I reduce all grades to reflect a proper curve?" Mr. Jefferson pressed. With that, he shook his head. "It is clear that you did not take this a few minutes ago to cover for forgetting. I will waive the deduction just this once. But Max, don't forget your homework again."
A relieved laugh bubbled out of Max. "I won't, Mr. Jefferson. Promise."
"Good. Now, go enjoy lunch. Or whatever is left of it in the cafeteria. I'm sure you can probably still manage to scrounge up a nice sandwich," Mr. Jefferson said. "The vultures of Blackwell usually miss a good meal or two in their savaging."
Max laughed at his joke. "Only because they want to get to their nests around campus."
"Well, they say birds of a feather flock together. And we both know gossip doesn't spread itself," Mr. Jefferson stated, offering her an encouraging smile. "Speaking of which, where do you nest?"
"Wherever the view's the nicest," Max replied vaguely. "I don't have a 'flock' so to say."
Mr. Jefferson blinked, his eyes shifting to full alertness. "You don't?"
"I-I mean, I have friends. Just not those kinds of friends," Max explained, scrambling to dismiss any concern he might feel. It wasn't as though she was lonely, after all. "Besides, some alone time can be really nice. Living in a dorm gets a bit overwhelming after a point."
"I feel every artist does well with some alone time now and again," Mr. Jefferson concurred. Then he paused, grimacing as he looked past Max. "Jeez. Will she never give me a break?"
Turning, Max found Victoria just down the hall from the two of them. She was walking over, her footfalls becoming more determined with each step. "Would you like me to distract her, Mr. Jefferson? So you can get some 'alone time' for once?"
"Would you think less of me if I said yes?" Mr. Jefferson half-jested, looking back down at Max. At least his eyes seemed full of mirth again.
Max offered him a sympathetic smile. "No. Everyone sees how she's always all over you, and you're nothing but patient about it. Go ahead and slip out the back. I'll keep her occupied as you make your escape."
"You make me sound as though I'm a villain," Mr. Jefferson teased. "Thank you, Max. I'll see you tomorrow."
With that, he turned around and headed towards the stairwell. There was an emergency exit back there that wasn't rigged to alarm when opened. He opened the door with a bang and descended.
"Mr. Jefferson!" Victoria called out loudly, her pace picking up to a light jog. "Mr. Jefferson!"
Max stepped in front of Victoria, blocking her path. "Mr. Jefferson has a meeting he's off to right now," she lied. It sounded so smooth that she almost believed it herself.
"And what were you doing with Mr. Jefferson before his meeting?" Victoria sneered, halting in front of her. She flicked her hair out of her eyes and examined Max up and down. "Trying to guilt him into not reducing your grade? You probably can't afford it anyway."
Bristling, Max pressed her lips together. Victoria acted high and mighty so often that she felt a need to kick her off her high horse. "Actually, I was giving him the photograph. I just left it on my desk in my dorm room."
"Yeah, right. You probably went out back to take a quick selfie," Victoria accused, her eyes narrowing. "Mr. Jefferson might fall for your waif, hipster bullshit, but I see right through you. You want to be special to him, but you don't have what it takes."
Max scoffed, "And you do? I watch him reject you ever single day. But you just can't take the hint."
"That's just because I haven't sealed the deal yet," Victoria said dismissively. She stuck a hand on her hip. "But just you wait. I'm going to win the 'Everyday Heroes' content and fly to San Francisco. Once I step into the spotlight, he will see me for what I truly am. And you'll just be another hipster student, fading into the background."
"You're so full of yourself, Victoria," Max responded haughtily.
Eyes wide, Victoria mockingly placed a hand over her open mouth. "Oh, you hurt my feelings with such mean words," she jeered. She dropped her mask of faux surprise.
Max stepped forward, glaring up into Victoria's eyes. "Mr. Jefferson will never be desperate enough to sleep with you."
There was a flicker of emotion for a moment in Victoria's eyes. To Max, it appeared to be doubt... or perhaps fear. Either way, she knew she had hit a nerve. Victoria rose to her full height, towering overhead. "We will see about that!"
"Fine then. How about we make a bet?" Max taunted, taking a step forward. "Since you're so confident."
Quirking one eyebrow, Victoria responded, "What might that be?"
"You get until the eighth of October to woo Mr. Jefferson and convince him to sleep with you," Max said. "And you get photographic proof. Do that, and I will not speak to Mr. Jefferson outside of class. But fail, and you have to leave Mr. Jefferson alone outside of class instead."
Victoria hesitated. This time, Max could definitely make out the uncertainty. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place. By not taking the bet, she was all but admitting that she didn't think she could manage it. But if she took the bet and failed, she lost any chance of winning Mr. Jefferson. Staring her down, Max waited for her reply. Victoria then raised her head proudly, staring Max down. "Deal."
"Good." With that, Max pushed past Victoria. No doubt Mr. Jefferson was long gone by then. She still had to get something to eat, and she probably didn't have much time left.
Trekking across the grounds, Max noticed most of the other students had already finished their meals. A couple of the football players were passing a ball around. The skaters had taken up residence at the front of the school again, their domain for their tricks. A couple of cheerleaders, including Dana, were practicing a new routine near the fountain. Abruptly, the ten minute warning bell rang.
Oh, man. Are you cereal?
Max's stomach growled. She had lost way more time than she thought. But there was no way she would be able to purchase her food, eat, and get to class in ten minutes. Maybe she could get something from the vending machine. Something was better than nothing, right? She hurried back in as she hunted for her wallet. Reaching the vending machine, she fully opened her bag and started rooting around. Her wallet was slim and had a tendency of hiding itself in the large crevices of her bag.
"Come on," she mumbled to herself.
"Hey, Max!"
Looking up, Max saw Kate walking over to her. "Hey, Kate. What's up?"
"I just ran into Mr. Jefferson. He told me to give you this," she explained before offering Max a wrapped sandwich. "He also mentioned something about you helping him with vultures? Or him helping you with vultures? I-I won't lie; I didn't quite catch it all."
Max all but snatched the sandwich from Kate's hand. "Thank you so much, Kate," she responded before sinking her teeth into it. Ham, lettuce, and cheese had never tasted so good. "This is fantastic."
"Well, I think it would be hard for him to mess up making a sandwich," Kate offered, half-joking. Then she checked the time. "See you, Max!"
For a moment, Max didn't process the words. She mumbled out her goodbye as she headed for her Science lab. As she walked into the door, though, she finally realized what Kate had said. She stared at the sandwich for a long moment. Was she actually eating part of Mr. Jefferson's lunch? Her brain didn't really know how to process that thought. In any case, she appreciated it. It would at least stave her off for the next hour or so.
Max continued eating without another thought, merry beyond saying.