Chapter Text
September 3, 2013
A frustrated groan.
Max Caulfield looked at herself in the mirror. Again. For the 15th time that morning.
It was officially her first day at Blackwell Academy and she was petrified. She was at a new school with new teachers and new students, but if the reflection in the mirror was anything to go by, she was still the same old Max.
The same old grey hoodie. The same generic jeans. The same worn-out sneakers. The only thing that really changed was the design on whatever shirt she had picked out for that day. At the time, it was the words “BYOD - Bring Your Own Deer” with an illustration of a deer sitting in a lawn chair holding a drink.
A set of rubber bracelets around her right wrist finished off the outfit. She reached over with her left hand and tugged at one of the bands incessantly. Freebies from all the hockey games she went to with her dad. Souvenirs from the tourist traps she had visited back in Seattle.
SNAP
Reminders of who she is. Who she was. Who she wants to be.
Her wrist turned flush where she snapped the band. Eventually, the mark would fade and she hoped so would her nerves. Her eyes wandered over to the open closet and she looked at the rest of her clothes. Basically all palette swaps of what she was already wearing.
Seeing no hope for her there, she returned to the mirror. She sighed. This would do. It’d have to.
‘Looking sharp, Caulfield.’
She was presentable. And besides, if she dressed any nicer, then people would expect that from her, and to be honest, she wasn’t sure if that was something she could keep up with.
Presentable. That was the goal. An easy, achievable, manageable goal.
She reached up to brush the brown locks out of her face before turning around to look at the rest of her room. She had spent the last two days unpacking, but it was finally over. Her home away from home that was technically her old home. A cocoon she could crawl into and maybe one day emerge a beautiful butterfly.
Maybe.
At her feet, a brand new rug that said “KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON.” She’d have to take its advice one day. To the right of her was her bed. A smile crept onto her face as she looked at the cushion she sewed with her mother. The teddy bear she’d been sleeping with ever since she was a kid.
‘Oh Captain, my Captain. You’ve always been there for me. Even if I am the reason you only have one eye.’
The table next to her bed housed all her books and CDs. The art books were organized by author. The CDs, by artist. They would never be organized again. Her guitar was laid against the couch across her bed for easy access. She liked playing guitar. It was different from photography. It was something just for her.
On her desk next to her laptop, a box of chocolate coconut bites her mom had bought her laid partly open and mostly empty. It wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing, but it kept her fuel tank off empty.
At least she was eating.
‘Oh, dog darn it. I almost forgot. Lisa.’
Max’s attention turned towards the houseplant that sat by the window in the corner of her room. She approached it and grabbed the bottle on the window sill to water it.
‘Mom says if I can keep Lisa alive, she might actually think about letting me get a dog. I don’t know what’s worse, that that’s the standard she holds me to or that I’m actually worried about failing.’
The bottle soon ran dry and she stuffed it into the messenger bag that laid beside her desk. She’d refill it on the way back to her room.
She was unable to leave the bag empty handed, and as if on instinct, she pulled out the old Polaroid camera she always carried. Her fingers ran over it affectionately. She smiled down at the object in her hands. This was safe. This was comforting.
She looked up at the rest of her room and her eyes gravitated to the barren wasteland of wallspace that sat beside her bed. Aside from the paper lanterns the previous student left behind, there was nothing there.
She’d have to fix that.
Max sat down on her bed and pointed the camera at herself. The rest came naturally. Holding the camera at almost a full arm’s length away to get the right framing. Leaning her head back just a bit so she’d be in focus. She could do this. She was good at this. And once she was ready–
CLICK
She set the camera down as it started spitting out the photo. She walked over to her desk and opened one of her drawers. There was a small thing of poster tack that became smaller after Max tore a piece off. She walked back over to the bed and pulled the photo out of the camera.
Still dark.
She started shaking it, and the image soon started to appear. An anxious young girl on her first day of school. An empty wall behind her. By the end of the year, the wall would be full. But would the girl change at all?
‘September 3, 2013. Dawn of the first day.’
She pressed the putty against the back of the picture before placing it in the center of the wall. She took a step back and looked at the lone photo against the off-white paint.
Her eyes took in how much space she had left to work with. It would be an endeavor to fill in the rest of the wall. She picked the camera up off her bed and looked at it before looking over to the closet. Maybe she’d have more clothes if she spent less money on film.
* * *
A satisfied sigh.
Victoria Chase looked at herself in the mirror. Again. For the 37th time that morning.
It was her last year at Blackwell, a school that, for all intents and purposes, belonged to her. She was rich. She was popular. But most importantly, she was mean. She was the Queen Bitch of Blackwell Academy, and she looked the part.
The mirror in front of her showed something straight out of a fashion magazine. The pixie cut without a single blonde hair out of place. A pink blouse by an Italian designer. A pencil skirt by a French one. And most importantly, a self-satisfied smirk that tied the whole thing together.
‘Perfect.’
BUZZ BUZZ
She turned around and approached the buzzing phone on her desk. There was a new text from Nathan Prescott. If Victoria was the Queen of this place, then Nathan was the King. Together, they ran the Vortex Club, and, due to all of the Prescott family’s generous donations, vicariously meant they also ran the school.
It was a good life.
For them, at least.
Nathan: Are you down for tonight?
She had forgotten. Nathan always hated the first day of the school year. The days his father would have a driver drop him off without so much as a farewell. Or worse, the days he would be there to drill into Nathan’s head what he had to do to not embarrass the Prescott dynasty.
Before Blackwell, Nathan really had no one he could turn to. But now he had the Vortex Club. Now, he had Victoria.
Victoria: always
And she had Nathan.
Nathan: Sweet.
Nathan: We’re gonna get fucked up.
Victoria smiled and was about to put her phone down when–
BUZZ BUZZ
Another text.
Courtney: got ur coffee
And as if a switch was flicked, the smile disappeared.
Courtney: be there in 5
‘About time.’
Victoria rolled her eyes before replying.
Victoria: about fucking time
She sent the message and placed her phone down before turning her attention to the other items on her desk. Cigarettes. Make-up. Pepper spray. One by one, she started putting them into a black handbag. American.
She grabbed the bag and her phone before walking over to the photos splayed out across her coffee table. She set her stuff down on the couch beside her before diving back into the photos.
She hated what she saw.
People. Places. There was nothing Victoria couldn’t capture with her camera. The photos in front of her proved a deft mastery of the camera, but as impressive as all the photos looked, as expertly as each subject was portrayed, none of them were good enough.
Not for her.
Not for her parents.
And especially not for Mark Jefferson.
She remembered the email he sent them all a few weeks back. He said he was excited to meet them all and that he was thankful they had all chosen Blackwell. He said it was unfair that they could just look him up online and learn everything there was about him. He said he wanted to know who they were. He gave them homework for the first day of class. Either they show up with a 1000 word essay about themselves or one, single photo.
One photo. Out of the dozens, no, hundred of photos she took, all she had to do was pick one of them. So why couldn’t she?
‘These are fucking awful.’
She swept the photos off the table and reached for a stack of manila envelopes that laid in the corner. She plucked the envelope from the top of the stack and laid out the contents. More photos. If she couldn’t find anything here, there were three more envelopes.
The plan was simple. She’d find the perfect photo and show Mark. Mark would love it. Maybe even love her. He would then tell the world about the skilled and talented Victoria Chase. Everyone would then tell her that he was right and that she was amazing. And once everyone in the world knew her name, she would be able to tell her parents that they were wrong.
An exasperated groan. She leaned back against her couch and covered her hands with her face. These were even worse than the last batch.
After a moment, she pulled her hands away from herself and sat back up. She picked up one of the photos that wasn’t absolutely the worst and brought it to her face. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized every single detail. The soft focus. The busy frame. The poor lighting. She saw every single imperfection.
It was like looking into a mirror.
CRASH
She crushed the photo in her hand in reaction to the sound. She was on edge and someone had the goddamn audacity to interrupt her self-loathing.
A muffled “Oh my god!” came from outside.
‘Courtney.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course.’
* * *
This was now officially Max’s worst day at Blackwell Academy. She had barely made it out of her room before colliding with two tall vanilla lattes and one green tea matcha latte.
Luckily, none of them were hot.
Just really wet.
“Holy shit…”
Max dropped the map of the school she had in her hand to wipe away the liquid from her eyes. She looked at the girl in front of her who just spoke. Purple streaks ran through black hair and a mortified expression hung on her face. She was still clutching the drink holder, but now it was just a holder.
“I-I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking and–”
The door across from Max’s opened and out walked Victoria Chase.
“Courtney, what the hell is all this noise?”
Courtney’s mortified look turned into one of fear as she diverted the apology to the blonde girl.
“Victoria! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking and–”
“And what, this walking Goodwill ran into you?”
Max watched as Victoria looked her up and down. She watched as Victoria crossed her arms. As she sneered and stared. Why was she so upset? So insulted?
Victoria rolled her eyes. She scoffed.
“Listen here, fresh meat. I don’t know who you are, but next time, why don’t you watch where you’re going? The drinks you just spilled probably cost more than your whole outfit.”
“I was just…” Max couldn’t finish the sentence. It was an experience she was all too familiar with. She could feel her throat close up and her mouth dry out. But today was supposed to be different. Blackwell was supposed to be different. She was supposed to be different.
“An accident, yes, I’m sure.”
Victoria reached her hand up to rub the bridge of her nose.
“You know what? You should feel lucky that you spilled my coffee, because that means I do not have the energy to deal with you right now.”
Victoria pulled her hand away before turning to Courtney.
“Well?”
Courtney looked at her wide-eyed. It was obvious she was hoping that Max was going to be the focus of Victoria’s wrath, but no, she had enough vitriol for everyone.
“My coffee?!”
“Y-yeah, I’ll be right back.”
“And keep it in the cup this time!”
As Courtney ran off, one of the doors opened and another girl walked out. She had long blonde hair and she was attempting to flag Courtney down.
“Hey, did you–”
“No time, Taylor.”
Taylor watched as Courtney rushed past her and through the doors. Confused, she turned down the hall to look at Victoria. The only thing Victoria could offer her was an eyeroll and a shrug.
Was this just how things worked between them?
Taylor seemed to understand before moving back into her room. Her eyes lingered a bit on Max, but she left it at that.
“It’s impossible to find good help these days.”
Victoria said this more to herself then to Max. She sighed and turned around to go back into her room. She started to close the door, but stopped to look back at the brunette.
“Welcome to Blackwell, by the way. Au revoir.”
SLAM
The sound echoed throughout the dorm before devolving into silence. Max’s lip quivered as all she could do was stand there.
She didn’t hear the door next to Victoria’s open. The creak of the floor as another girl made her way towards her. She didn’t even notice the hand that wrapped around her own.
“Are you okay?”
It took a moment, but Max turned to look at the mousey girl beside her. She wore her dirty blonde hair in a bun, but what caught Max’s attention was her eyes.
She saw genuine concern in her eyes. It gave Max strength.
Max nodded her head, but not too much. She didn’t want to rain caffeine on the kind stranger.
The girl smiled and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze.
“That’s good. I’m Kate.”
“Max.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Max. Let’s go clean you up.”
Kate tightened her grip around Max’s hand as she led her to the showers. The two entered and both seemed relieved that it was empty. Kate let go of Max’s hand and walked over to the closest shower. She turned the water on and held her hand underneath it. She held it there for a few seconds before removing it. She nodded and flicked the water away before turning back to Max.
“I’ll be right back.”
Max nodded again and she was soon left alone.
‘What the heck was all that? Why was that Victoria girl so mean and angry? I didn’t even do anything to her, and she thinks that gives her the right to–’
She was starting to get angry when she caught her reflection in the mirror. It was a Max, covered in coffee and not strong enough to stand up for herself. It was a Max that was bullied and picked on for being weird in Seattle. It was a Max that abandoned a friend and wasn’t brave enough to reach out.
This would be that Max’s last day. It would have to be.
She took a deep breath.
In.
Out.
She had to change.
Max slipped her jacket off and threw it onto the bench near the door. As she was taking off her shirt, the door opened and Kate walked back in.
“I brought you–”
Kate paused as she realized that Max was undressing. Red rushed to her cheeks as she immediately bowed her head down to face the ground. Her hand darted out with a few towels over her arm.
“I brought you towels.”
Max threw her shirt onto her hoodie and took a moment to look at the blushing blonde.
“What’s wrong? Am I really that much of a mess right now?”
Kate shook her head vigorously.
“N-no, it’s that not, it’s just that I–”
Kate heard Max laugh and her heart stopped racing.
“Oh.”
It took a moment, but Kate smiled, unknowingly joining in with Max. She still didn’t look up though.
“Thanks, Kate.”
Max took the towels from her and set them neatly on the bench.
Kate continued to look down as Max undressed until she heard the shower curtain open and close.
A sigh of relief as she looked up and saw that Max was behind the curtain. She approached, raising her voice so she could be heard.
“Do you need anything else?”
No answer. Kate was about to call out again, but then Max spoke.
“I could really use a friend, if that’s cool.”
Kate smiled a wide smile as she nodded.
“I can do that.”
* * *
“Mr. Jefferson!”
Victoria Chase excitedly approached the 38-year-old man standing outside her photography class.
“It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Victoria Chase.”
The man’s look of surprise turned into a warm smile as he realized who he was talking to. He raised his right hand and fixed his glasses.
“Ah, yes. You’re one of my students for Language of Photography, right?”
“That’s right.”
Victoria was beaming. Mark Jefferson knew who she was.
“Chase…Your parents, they own the Chase Space in Seattle?”
“You’ve done your research. I can see why you’re a professor here.” The smile on Victoria’s face grew strained at the mention of her parents, but she was able to pull through.
Mark laughed. “You know, I’ve attended a few shows there. I don’t think I ever saw you around.”
Victoria rolled her eyes, a Pavlovian response as they talked more about her parents. “That sounds like a good thing. Believe me, you don’t want to see me in the same room as them.”
Mark raised an eyebrow at the statement.
Victoria blushed and shook her head as she realized what she had just said. “Not to say that there’s anything wrong with them. O-or me, it’s just–”
“Victoria.”
Mark placed a hand on Victoria’s shoulder and offered her a smile.
“It’s fine.”
Victoria looked up at the older man and nodded. She hadn’t noticed until, but her heart was beating twice as fast. Was it because of her parents? Or was it because of the man’s hand on her shoulder?
“The Chase Space is quite the gallery. It must not be easy, to have your parents split their attention between you and work all the time..”
Victoria nodded. ‘He gets me.’
As the two continued talking, students had begun piling in. Victoria ignored most of them, though she did flash her friends a small smile when they entered together.
Victoria’s mood changed when she saw the girl from earlier approach. It was clear that she showered, but Victoria could swear that you could still smell the coffee on her. She had apparently replaced her embarrassing shirt with a somehow even more embarrassing shirt.
A black deer silhouette on a white tee with the name “Prudence” beneath it. There was no eye roll hard enough for how she felt about that shirt.
As the girl approached, she realized Victoria was looking at her. She froze for a moment, like a deer in headlights.
‘Oh, she is going to be fun.’
Victoria waited for the girl to look down. To run away. But she didn’t. Instead, she continued moving, towards them actually. Then it dawned on her that this loser was in the same photography class as her.
The girl paid neither of them any attention as she approached. An unwavering gaze and unfaltering pace as she walked.
’Since when did donation boxes come with a backbone?’
Her right eye twitched as the brunette walked in between them and into class, as if neither of them were there.
“I’m very excited to have you all in my class. I was looking over the photos you turned in and–”
“I’m excited to be in your class, too. You’re basically the reason I’m here at Blackwell.”
“Really, now?” The man raised an eyebrow and smirked at the statement.
“That’s funny, because when I was looking at all of your records, I could have sworn it said you had already been here at Blackwell for a few years already.”
‘Shit.’
That dumb idiot had thrown Victoria off.
A deep breath.
It was fine. Swerve. Readjust.
“Oh, well, yes, but you should have seen this place before you got here.”
Victoria’s tone switched on a dime, from hopeless adoration to conspiratorial gossip.
“Some of the students here were…less then Blackwell material, and I was already packing up, getting ready to leave, when you announced that you’d be-”
RING
Mr. Jefferson looked up at the school bell before looking back down at Victoria.
“We can finish this later.”
He motioned his hand towards the open doorway.
“Ready for class?”
“Always.”
* * *
Max had hit rock bottom that morning, but meant she could only go up from there. She looked over to the girl that sat at the table beside hers. Kate Marsh. Her guardian angel. And though she wasn’t as fanatical as the blonde was about religion, it didn’t detract from her. Kate was, first and foremost, a kind, caring person and there was no difference in belief that could shake that.
After they got through the whole coffee ordeal, both were delighted to find that they shared history together. This gave them time to set up a tea date on Thursday where Kate would introduce her to some of the other girls.
A meet and greet with tea. A tea and greet? Meet and tea?
Kate noticed Max staring as Mr. Jefferson went over the syllabus. She smiled at her, and Max smiled back. That was a smile worth protecting.
After Kate turned away, Max turned her attention back to Mr. Jefferson. Kate was the reason why Max made it to Photography class, but Mr. Jefferson was the reason she was even there to begin with. Though the two were stylistically on opposite ends of the spectrum, Max loved how he talked about photography. His philosophies. His mantras.
And to think that someone like Mr. Jefferson came from a place like Arcadia Bay. Maybe it meant there was a future in photography for someone like Max.
“But enough about me. I think it’s time we talk about the assignment I gave you all for your first day here. You were to either write a 1000 word essay about yourself or bring in a photo that you had taken. I said the photo could be of anything or anyone. It could be an old photo that you had laying around, or maybe some of you even went out and took a new photo just to impress me.”
Max noticed some movement in her periphery and turned to see Victoria crossing her legs and positioning herself towards the teacher. It was obvious since she caught the two talking before class that Victoria was enamored with Mr. Jefferson.
‘She’s crushing hardcore on Mr. Jefferson. Maybe that means she’ll be on good behavior.’
“But I did that because I wanted to learn about you. A picture’s worth a thousand words, and I always thought it was better to show and not tell.”
Mr. Jefferson walked over to the lights and turned them off. He hit a switch and blinds started to crawl down the windows of the class. The only light left was the projector he had set up at the front of the room.
“First up…Hayden Jones.”
The first picture was of the football field early in the morning. The morning sun crept over the field, causing the football and helmet in frame to cast long shadows over the green.
Hayden cheered and pumped his fist at his own picture.
Max smiled at the earnest reaction. Hayden was proud. He should be.
‘The sun looks so good there. I wish I could take photos at dawn, but I don’t think I could wake up that early.’
Alyssa Anderson was up next. A stack of books sat on a windowsill, illuminated by the moonlight. The books had titles like “The Woe of Man” and “To Live Through Her.” The candle in the frame provided some warmth, which contrasted against the cold light of the moon.
‘I really like the theme in this one. Very…romantic.’
Stella Hill was after. By the tables and windows, Max could tell Stella had taken her photo in the science lab. A ray of sunlight had hit a test tube in just the right way, casting a rainbow into the Petri dish beside it.
‘And who said science couldn’t be art?’
Kate was up next and Max perked up in her seat. Kate had shown her some of the drawings she’d been working on, but she was curious to see how she was at photography.
Kate’s picture was of a bunny in a grass field. It was holding a small piece of apple in its paws, but its attention was elsewhere. A hand came from the upper left frame and it had one finger pointed at it. The bunny was fascinated and had pressed its nose against the extended digit.
‘The Creation of Alice.’
Max loved it. She gave Kate two big thumbs up, which elicited a smile from the girl. However, the mood was quickly ruined.
“More cutesy bullshit.”
Max looked over at Victoria as she heard the not-so-whispered words. She looked back to Kate, smile gone and looking away.
‘What is her problem?’
Daniel DaCosta’s photo was the first to show actual people. It was a photo of his grandmother and his mother cooking in the kitchen. Daniel was standing beside them and helping.
‘Aw, how sweet. I’m sure they’re all proud of him for getting into Blackwell, too.’
Taylor’s photo was probably the most fun to take. The subject was a girl sunbathing. The big sunglasses she wore reflected the beach in front of.
‘There’s no way this was taken here. Our beach is nowhere that nice.’
And then there were two.
Max was nervous. Not just because she was going to be up soon, but because the only other person that hadn’t gone was the one that ruined her morning and, for all she knew, would try to ruin the rest of her school year.
“Up next is our very own Victoria Chase.”
Victoria’s photo was perfect. She had snapped a shot of a ballerina in a dance studio. The girl was mid-pirouette, but she could not be more clear. The sunlight shone through the studio windows, but Victoria had managed to light it perfectly from the other side. She had frozen this dancer in time and captured it in a photo. It looked like all you needed to do was to wind her up before she started dancing.
‘Wowsers.’
Max hadn’t realized it, but her mouth was open. The photo was amazing, and this only made her feel worse. All the confidence she had built up during the day was beginning to fade.
“I must say Victoria, this is an extremely impressive shot.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jefferson.”
The girl was grinning. She was smug. But she had every right to be.
As Mr. Jefferson went on, Max slowly sank into her chair. How was she supposed to compare? David might have won against Goliath, but he didn’t have to go up against Victoria Chase.
“On to our last photo, which is Max Caulfield’s.”
Victoria turned to look at Max. They made eye contact. Victoria smirked and gave her a little wave. It made her shiver.
This is it. She’s spent her whole life wanting to be a photographer, but this is where it would end. Mr. Jefferson would be the one to break it to her that she’d been wasting all her time. Victoria would laugh at her and turn the whole class against her. And Max? She would wither. Shrivel up. Die. Turn to ashes and get swept up by Samuel.
Victoria’s picture disappeared from the screen and Max’s showed up. It was a picture she took before she had moved back to Arcadia Bay. Her father had tried grilling and it turned out horribly. This was the aftermath. An embarrassed man with black soot over half his face and the caring woman trying to clean him up. It was a sweet moment. It was tender. It was real.
“How lucky we are to have this follow up Victoria’s. This is a Polaroid, Max?”
“Uh, yeah…”
“That makes it even better. The spontaneity of this image. The honesty of it. You can see the story. Two people. In love. Sharing a moment.”
Max began to rise out of her, slowly, but steadily as Mr. Jefferson continued on. She smiled so hard her cheeks hurt. She didn’t even notice–
SNAP
–the girl at the table beside her.
The girl glaring daggers at her.
The girl holding two halves of a pencil in her hand.
The girl who would either make her or break her.