MONDAY

I took a quick look around to either side before sliding up to Kate Marsh's room slate. The Prescott Dormitory hallway was quiet, no one stirring this early before class. Really, I was pretty tired too, but it was nothing that another hour's nap and a cup of coffee wouldn't fix. My mission was too important.

Grabbing the pen on top of the slate, I went to work, using big letters to hide my handwriting and finishing it off with a doodle. I stepped back and nodded to myself at a job well done. “WILL BANG 4 JESUS,” with a little cartoon pile of poo. Not my finest work, but it was fast, and it got the point across. The point being, “Fuck you, you preachy bitch.”

I scowled as I jammed the cap back onto the pen and replaced it on top of the whiteboard. Kate fucking Marsh. Walking around the school, putting up posters to her fucking Bible group and her stupid abstinence group, looking down at all of us peasants and heathens, acting like she was a goddamned angel. Like her precious fucking god did any good for the rest of--

The click of a lock down the hall made me jump, interrupting my thoughts, and I quickly darted down the hallway toward my room. I didn't bother to look back; looking back would only make me look guilty. Not that I felt guilty. No, this was justice. Because fuck Kate Marsh and the Jesus fish she rode in on. Yup. Justice.

---

Two hours later, I was feeling a lot shittier. After the close call in the hallway, I had trouble sleeping, and then Blackwell's own resident student delinquents had been hogging the bathroom, filling it with foul odors (and the smell of spray paint and skunk weed, heh heh). I felt a lot less than fresh, and it didn't help that Victoria was all wound up in knots over the upcoming photo gallery in Portland. I'd told her that her portfolio was great and she should submit it, but no, Victoria required everything to be perfect before letting anyone else see it.

I stifled a yawn as Mx. Dog came into the photography classroom and stepped up to give their announcement. A photo contest. How shocking. I rolled my eyes at the requirement that we work in pairs. Well, I may not be much of a photographer (I prefer making art with paint and pencil and charcoal, not with the click of a button), but this stuff was super important to Victoria, and after she got robbed in last year's contest, I wasn't about to let her down.

“All right, Victoria, what did you want to do?” I asked, pulling out my phone so I could get to the calendar. “I know you'll, like, want to take the lead on this, so...” I paused when I realized that I wasn't getting a response, and looked up. “Victoria?”

Ah. Of course. Victoria only had eyes for Max Caulfield. I sighed, resting my chin in my palm. Max was the only photographer in the school who could compare to Victoria, and my friend was super aware of that fact. As far as the rest of the school—including Max herself—could tell, Victoria was a huge bitch to Max out of jealousy or to keep down a rival or some dumb shit like that. As her best friend, though, I knew the truth: Victoria was a bitch to Max for even dumber reasons. Basically, if Max wore pigtails (ugh, there's a mental image), Victoria would probably pull on them while saying that girls are icky.

Victoria had, like, the world's biggest lesbian crush on Max is what I'm saying. Courtney didn't think so, but the fuck does Courtney know? Whatever, no accounting for taste.

I sighed and unlocked my phone, poking through my Facebook feed. Victoria, bless her heart, was too chickenshit to ever approach Max in public, and the little dweeb would probably partner up with one of her delinquent friends. Or with Kate fucking Marsh. I just had to wait a bit, and Victoria would turn to me like she always does. Sweet, dependable Taylor. That's me.

Victoria's sharp voice drew my attention away from my phone, and I gaped at the sight when I look up. Standing right here, clutching her bag awkwardly and looking like she was questioning all the decisions in life that led her up to this point, was Max Caulfield herself. Victoria was looming over the poor girl, peering down her nose thoughtfully. “...You're not as dumb as you look,” my friend finally said, and sat. Max, not getting the hint, made sure that they were actually partnered up for real, then scuttled back to her seat.

Our teacher started on their lecture, and Victoria turned to stare forward, her back straight. Switching my phone to silent, I quickly jotted out a message before sliding it to her under our shared desk. She glanced at the screen, dashed out a reply, and passed my phone back. It was a method of chatting that we'd figured out ages ago to avoid raising the ire of teachers.

Did Max just ask you to be her partner for the contest?

Yeah, I guess even she can understand talent when she sees it.

Guess so. What are you going to do?

I have no idea.

I looked up at Victoria, who was giving me a side-eyed expression of pure panic. I sighed and started typing again.

We'll talk about it later. You should talk to Max too, see if she has ideas.

Good idea. We can talk where the Vortex Club hangs out.

Maybe meet her somewhere she's comfortable?

Why would the hangout be uncomfortable for her?

Because you've been a mega-bitch to her for a year?

Victoria scowled at me. I shot her a look back, daring her to disagree, but she couldn't. So I continued typing.

I see her at the Two Whales sometimes. She knows some of the waitresses.

You eat at that greasy spoon?

They have good pie.

You disgust me.

I jabbed at Victoria with my elbow, but she was able to block me and tag me first; damn, her elbows are sharp. I was about to counter-strike when a pointed look and a sharp cough from Mx. Dog made us settle down. The rest of the class went by normally. I was pretty sure I could feel the whole rest of the class collectively freaking out about the contest, but frankly, I didn't care too much.

After class, Hayden asked me to be his partner for the project and I agreed, letting him sign us up. Stepping out into the hallway, I jumped when a hand with pointy nails grabbed my arm. Victoria was lurking just outside the classroom, and she dragged me along while hissing at me, “Caulfield's number. I need it. Now.”

“Jesus fuck, okay Victoria. Give me a second.” I rubbed my arm after she let me go, before pulling out my phone and messaging her the number; I'd acquired it the previous year, as part of some kind of weird plan on Victoria's part that had never really come through. She had a lot of those revolving around Max. Like I said, huge gay crush.

She stormed off, staring at her phone like it held the secrets of the universe, and I heaved a sigh of relief. When it came to photography, competitions, and photography competitions, Victoria could get scary-intense. Honestly, I was kind of glad that I wasn't going to have to deal with her this week. And hey, maybe she and Max would get together and I could stop living under the shadow of Victoria's constant sexual frustration.

TUESDAY

“C'mon, Taylor, relax. You look all stiff, girl. Your smile doesn't look natural.”

“That's because I don't feel like smiling, you idiot,” I shot back at Hayden. For being the middle of October, it was stupidly hot out, and he had me and Courtney spreading our schoolwork out on Blackwell's lawn, like we were posing for some kind of ad campaign for the school. 'What shows bonds more than two friends sitting together and studying?' he'd asked us. Hayden's a good guy, nice and chill, but he had the creative instincts of a corporate executive. “It's hot as fuck out,” I continued bitching, “I'm getting grass stains on my shorts, and I think I, like, swallowed a bug doing that fake laugh earlier.”

Hayden sighed and let his camera dangle around his neck. “All right, let's take a break, I guess. Get something to drink, let you two relax.”

“First good idea I've heard from you all day,” I grumbled as I stood up, before turning to offer my hand to Courtney and help her up. “C'mon, let's get something from the vending machine. I gotta wash the taste of bug out of my mouth.”

We had just stepped into the blessedly air-conditioned confines of the school when my phone started ringing. My stomach sank; I knew that bit of club music. It was the one I'd assigned to Victoria.

Courtney nodded in understanding as I threw her an apologetic look while answering the phone. We'd both dealt with enough of Victoria's shit to know exactly what it meant to take a call from her. Taking a deep breath, I turned on the cheerful as I answered, “Victoria, hey! What's up, girl?”

“Sweet-T,” she answered, and I cringed; she only called me that when she was comforting me or when she needed something, and I wasn't in need of comfort right then. “I need a favor,” Victoria continued. Yup. Thought so.

I pulled the phone away to sigh before returning it to my ear. “Sure thing! What do you need?”

“I need you to talk to Nathan. I need to borrow his dad's yacht for the contest. All day Thursday. Caulfield and I are going to tour the bay, and find something, anything worth shooting a photo of in this town.”

I stared down at the phone for a moment in mild horror. I got along with Nathan well enough, but he was way more Victoria's friend than mine. I didn't spend much time alone with the guy, and honestly, I worked hard to keep it that way. I worked even harder to avoid talking to Nathan about his dad; there were issues there way deeper and darker than anything I wanted to deal with. “Uh... sure, I can do that Victoria, but, like... Wouldn't it be easier if you asked him yourself?”

“Obviously not, or I wouldn't be calling you,” she snapped back. “I have shit to do today if we're going to get this contest done by Friday. Just tell him to get everything arranged, and if he gives you shit, tell him I'll pay him back. Whatever he wants.” There was a pause, then Victoria continued softly, “Please, Taylor? This is important to me.”

I rubbed at my temple with my free hand, sighing. “I know, Vic. All right, I'll go talk to him. I'll text you the details, okay?”

“Thanks, Taylor. I knew I could count on you,” she replied with genuine warmth before hanging up. I stared at my blank phone for a minute before sighing and tucking it away in my purse. The things I do for friendship.

Courtney walked up to me and handed me a diet soda. “What's up?”

“Thanks,” I said as I took the can and popped it open. “Victoria needs me to do a favor. Can you deal with Hayden? I don't know how long this will take.” I turned to start walking before she could answer. “Thanks, Courtney! I owe you one!” I called over my shoulder.

“Wait, deal with him how? You're his partner for this thing! Taylor! Taylor!” Courtney called as I strode away. I felt a little bad about ditching her like that, but, well, shit rolls downhill. She got the easier part, really. She didn't have to deal with Nathan Prescott.

---

“No.”

I sighed, hanging my head. Nathan was lurking in front of the dormitories, hunched over on a bench and glaring at the Tobanga. No idea what he had against that thing, but that was a grudge older than my time in Arcadia Bay, and frankly, I didn't care enough to figure it out. “Why not? Victoria REALLY needs that yacht.”

“She should've given me some more warning,” Nathan replied. “Two days? That's not time to plan shit, Taylor. You know how my dad will react to me asking to borrow the yacht on two days' notice?”

I didn't, and I preferred to keep it that way. “It's not like your family's going to be doing anything with it on some random Thursday anyway. Victoria has a real chance of winning the photography contest. This would be a huge step for her.”

“Or for Caulfield,” Nathan replied bitterly. I winced. Among Nathan's many, many issues, he had a lot of problems with Chloe Price and Rachel Amber, which meant that he had a grudge against Max by association. Which meant that it definitely wasn't a good idea to point out that, if my suspicion was right, Victoria was going to use Nathan's yacht to sweep Max off her sneaker-clad feet.

“Look, this is, like, really important to her. She'd owe you big time if you made this happen. Hell, I'd owe you; she'll kill me if we can't come to some kind of arrangement. So what do you want, Nathan? What would make this deal worth it to you?”

Nathan paused, eyeing me thoughtfully. A shiver ran up my spine. Fuck, the guy gave me the creeps. Finally, he sighed and his shoulders sagged even more. “Fine, tell Victoria I'll get everything set up. On one condition.” He looked up at me again, and this time his eyes look haunted and red, like he was about to start crying. “I want to hang out with her. This weekend, just her and me, maybe on the yacht 'cause why the fuck not. Just... Look, she's my best friend. I know she's hung up on that Caulfield bi--...girl, and I'm not going to fuck with that. I just want to keep my best friend. Okay?”

I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Shit, of all the emotions I expected Nathan to stir up in me, I hadn't expected pity. “Sure,” I replied softly, “I'll let her know. And don't worry. She's not going to ditch you, no matter what happens. She wouldn't do that.”

“Sure,” he replied, and sighed. “All right, I'll text her the details when I have them. Can you just... leave me alone for right now?”

“Yeah, Nathan,” I replied. My hand came up, about to pat him on the shoulder, but he cringed and shrank away. I let it drop and stood up. “Thanks again.”

I pulled out my phone as I walked away, texting Victoria to let her know the deal. It was time to track down Hayden, to salvage what we could of our contest entry. Fuck, if I had trouble giving him a natural smile before...

WEDNESDAY

I don't think there's anything worse than having Dana Ward be pissed at you. It's like if you took all the awfulness involved in disappointing your sweet old grandmother, and combined it with the sheer terror of facing down a pissed-off lioness protecting her cubs.

Unfortunately for me, Dana was fucking pissed at me. She had pushed her way into my room as soon as I opened the door, and towered over me, frowning with that superpowered mix of anger and disappointment that's just unfair to get from someone who's already that tall and strong and pretty and totally hot (okay, I might be a little gay for Dana, but I think EVERYONE is a little gay for Dana; or a little straight for her, I guess). It was enough to make me want to curl up and never leave my room again.

“Answer the question, Taylor,” she growled at me, doing funny things to my stomach and knees. “Why were you fucking around with Kate's slate?”

“I wasn't!” I answered weakly. “Why do you think it was me?”

“I saw you Monday, dipshit,” Dana answered, crossing her arms (seriously, how can a girl work out as much as she does and still have that much cleavage? Totally unfair!). “And you did the same little shit doodle last year, when Victoria was pissed at that girl who accidentally spilled coffee on her skirt.”

Fuck, I knew that doodle seemed familiar. “Uh, well...” All right, denial isn't working. Offense is the best defense, I guess? I straightened up, doing my best to look her in the eye despite the good half a foot of height she had on me. “She's fucking earned it, okay? Walking around, looking down on everyone who doesn't go to her fucking sermons, judging all of us, pretending she's some delicate angel. I thought I'd get away from that Bible-thumping bullshit by coming to an arts school in Oregon, but two fucking doors down--”

Dana took a step back and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Oh for the love of... Taylor, who do you think Kate's closest friends at Blackwell are?”

“Uh.” I blinked, not expecting the sudden question to interrupt my righteous tirade. “I dunno, you, Max, and Alyssa?”

“Right. Max, who I know for a fact is agnostic. Alyssa, who basically wears a cross as a fashion accessory. And me, and we both know I'm not signed up for Kate's abstinence thing. But the thing about Kate is, she doesn't give a shit. She has her clubs to support other people who share her convictions, but she doesn't care what the rest of us do. She'll just smile and keep being nice, because she actually is a fucking angel. Which you would know, if you'd ever fucking talked to her” Dana turned her wrathful eyes on me again, and I took an instinctive step back. “So all the bullshit you and the other 'Mean Girls' have been putting her through? It ends. NOW.”

My mouth worked, but nothing came out. What do you say to a command like that? When she wants something, Dana is basically impossible to resist, but she basically only used her powers for good. And given that, it was getting harder and harder to pretend that I wasn't on the wrong side of this. “...Fine,” I finally spat out, and sank down onto my bed, defeated.

Dana nodded, her expression easing a little. “Good. I expect Kate to get an amazing, heartfelt apology from you by the end of the week, or there will be...” She leaned in straight toward my face, hissing out the next word: “Consequences.” A shiver ran up my spine. Good shiver or bad? Hard to say, but I was pretty sure the odds of Dana giving me good shivers in the near future would go way down if I refused her. Down that road lay ruin.

“Fine,” I muttered, and sighed as she closed the door behind her. I flopped down onto my bed, drained by the whole thing. And now I needed to come up with a big apologetic gesture for Kate. Fuck.

I felt a weird vibration at the base of my spine, and with a start, I realized that my phone was still on silent from class. Grabbing it and unlocking it, I went pale. I had missed text messages from Victoria. A lot of missed text messages.

Victoria: Taking Caulfield shopping today. Need to get her something presentable for the shoot.

Victoria: Could use your insight.

Victoria: Crimson or violet for her cardigan?

Victoria: Fine then. I'll do it myself.

Victoria: She didn't know that jeans come in white. WTF.

Victoria: This outfit might actually not look like shit.

Victoria: No thanks to you.

Victoria: Sorry, super bitchy this morning. Got up too early.

Victoria: Seriously, Taylor, I'm sorry.

Victoria: OMG, she will not stop fussing about me getting her the outfit. Like it's expensive.

Victoria: Fuck, is it expensive? Am I showing off?

Victoria: She doesn't know pants come in white, but she knows an amazing creperie.

Victoria: I don't know if her priorities are totally fucked or fucking perfect.

Victoria: Have fun with whatever you're doing.

I sighed and raised the phone to text her back.

Me: Sorry, phone was silent. Glad to hear you're doing okay. And I think violet would look good on her.

The reply was immediate.

Victoria: I thought so too. Can't talk, still shopping.

I raised an eyebrow and looked at the phone's clock as I switched it out of silent mode. It was four in the afternoon, and the first texts had come from before nine in the morning. Was Victoria seriously still out with Max seven hours on? Shit, at this rate, the two of them would either end up married or end up murdering each other. Or both.

I shrugged and started up a music playlist on my laptop. It was a rare moment of quiet, I might as well get some homework done. And maybe some drawing? That sounded good. The encounter with Dana still had me thinking about lionesses protecting their cubs, and I could use more practice drawing animals...

---

A loud, horrible noise assaulted me. I groaned and rolled over, burying my head further into my pillow, but the sound kept going. It was awful, but if I just ignored it longer...

There, it stopped. I sighed in relief and settled in, ready to go back to--

And there it was again. Clamoring just as loudly as before, thumping with the heavy bass of club music.

I pushed myself up and grabbed my ringing phone. I was just able to see the clock (1:30 AM? What the fuck?) before I answered it, growling into the receiver, “What the fuck do you want?”

“I need your help,” a voice said from the other end of the line in a whisper, and instantly I was fully awake. That was Victoria's voice, and she sounded terrified.

“Victoria? Where are you? What's up?” I flicked on my lamp and started scrounging around for reasonable clothes to wear; Victoria may be my best friend, but I still wasn't running out to God-knows-where in boyshorts and an oversized, bleach-stained T-shirt.

“I'm in my room,” Victoria whispered back, and I immediately relaxed. I was worried that I was going to have to go scrambling halfway across town, but if she was just down the hall, I gave much fewer fucks about how I looked. Still some, but fewer. “I need your help. It's Max.”

“What about her?” I asked as I grabbed my keys and quietly stepped out into the corridor. “Did she do something?” And why aren't you calling her 'Caulfield' anymore? I wondered.

“Just get in here and help me,” Victoria snapped, and the line went dead. I shrugged and pocketed the phone as I opened the door to Victoria's dorm room. I was not expecting the sight within.

The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of Victoria's huge plasma screen TV, which was currently running a long scroll of credits in Japanese. Across from the screen, Victoria lay on her couch, curled up in a blanket. And under that blanket with her was Max Caulfield, fast asleep and cuddled up against Victoria's side.

“Taylor, get over here and help me move her,” Victoria hissed quietly at me.

“What the hell did you two do?” I whispered in return as I walked over. “Did you seriously spend the whole day together?”

“It was an accident, okay?” Victoria replied. She babbled as we worked together to carefully hoist the tiny sleeping hipster between us. “I got her an outfit, then we got something to eat, then we got more stuff, and I don't know what happened, but it was dark and we were in the parking lot and she had a gift for me, and it was a super rare Kusanagi figure from Ghost in the Shell, do you know how fucking hard it is to find this particular sculpt, and by the way I need to rip your tongue out for telling her I'm into fucking anime--”

“I didn't tell her--!” I started in my own defense; that Victoria is a huge fucking weeaboo was a secret I expected to take into my grave. Never mind that she leaves her stupid Japanese dolls lying around her dorm room. It was more of a surprise that it took this long for anyone else to figure it out.

“Shut up—anyway, she got me the figure, and we talked for a while, and then she said that she'd never seen Princess Mononoke but she liked Final fucking Fantasy: the fucking Spirits fucking Within, so I obviously had to show her what actual quality cinema looks like, and then she fell asleep and I was worried about waking her up if I tried to move her by myself and now we're here.” At the last sentence, we carefully laid Max down on Victoria's bed and stepped back, my friend huffing to make up for the breath she lost talking. Max, for her part, just curled up on her side, her hand groping to grab Victoria's blanket and pull it over herself before settling back to sleep.

I stretched, replaying Victoria's stream of conversation to make sure I understood it all. “...So, overall, good day?”

Even in the near-black room, I could see Victoria flushing. “I've had worse,” she grunted back.

I grinned at her, before I was forced into a long yawn. “I'm glad your date went well, but now that we've moved your tiny pixie girlfriend to your bed, I need to sleep.” I turned as Victoria spluttered, waving over my shoulder. “Try not to ravage her in her sleep, huh? She'd probably rather you do it while she's awake.” The door clicked shut behind me before Victoria could form a coherent answer.

My phone beeped as I stepped back into my room, and I smirked to myself as I sent a reply.

Victoria: I fucking hate you.

Me: <3 Sweet dreams!

THURSDAY

The florist's shop was playing havoc with my allergies. I didn't even realize that I had allergies, but I guess when you're totally surrounded by pollen (“plant jizz”, as Warren Graham had once oh-so-helpfully described it to me), something was bound to open the flood gates in your nose. And your eyes. And your throat. Ugh, I was a fucking mess.

It didn't help that my phone was fucking exploding. A few texts were from Hayden, begging me to come help him pick out on of his shots for the contest (“You're the photographer, you can figure it out,” I'd told him, while privately being damned sure that no one could hold a candle to the Chase-Caulfield Super Duo). Most of the texts, though, were from Victoria.

Victoria: Fuck it's a nice day out.

Victoria: Had Max walk to the pier with her eyes closed. Yacht blew her away. Thanks for setting it up.

Victoria: Got a good shot of Max. That might be our entry right there.

Victoria: Or at least something worth the portfolio

Victoria: Holy fuck we saw a pod of whales.

Victoria: This is my best idea ever holy shit.

Victoria: Just wish it didn't smell like fish.

Victoria: Max had us stop by the lighthouse. It was a great idea.

Victoria: Max took a picture of me. Holy fuck it's amazing.

Victoria: We have this contest in the bag.

I smiled at my phone. As irritating as the constant buzzing may be, Victoria being so openly happy was a rare enough thing that it seemed worth savoring.

“Can I help you, miss?” a voice came from behind me, making me jump.

“Oh f--! Uh, I'm sorry,” I said to the stooped old man; judging by his dirty apron and the shirt with the store's logo on it, he was an employee here. “Yeah, I'm looking for...” I scrounged through my memory of the hurried research I'd done into flowers that morning. “Uh, white tulips? They're, like, a symbol of forgiveness?”

He smiled and nodded, gesturing for me to follow him. “Here they are,” he said, pointing to a few small flowers in a pot. “Is that all you need? If so, I can go ahead and ring you up?”

“That'd be great, thanks,” I answered, giving him a smile.

He hummed as he finished the transaction. Shit, were you supposed to tip a florist? I'd never been to a florist before. It was basically retail, right? And you don't tip retail workers. I took the pot from him quickly, thanking him, and turning to walk out.

“You're welcome,” he called after me, “and bless you for having the courage to forgive another!”

I froze, turning back to the gardener. “Uh, what? I thought that white tulips meant you were asking for forgiveness.”

He blinked and shook his head. “Oh no, you give them to a person you're forgiving.”

We stood there, staring at each other for a few moments, before I answered, “Fuck it, close enough.” I turned and walked out. How likely was Kate to know flower language, anyway? Not likely at all. Flower language was dumb. The flowers were pretty, that was good enough.

When I got back to Blackwell, I saw Victoria and Max, hanging out in the Vortex Club's usual hangout spot; Max was wearing a surprisingly classy outfit, which must have been the one that Victoria bought for her. Violet DID look good on her. They were leaning in on each other, peering into the back of Victoria's camera, an array of Polaroids spread in front of them. I briefly considered going over to greet them (and maybe tease Victoria), but I decided against it. Instead, I just held up my phone and snapped a picture before wandering off, humming to myself. I may not pay much attention in photo class, but I'd learned enough to capture the essence of the scene.

Once the tulips were watered and safe on my desk, I sent the picture to Victoria, with the caption, “Cuuuuuute~!”

The response was immediate:

Victoria: Go fuck yourself, Taylor.

Victoria: Thanks for the pic.

Victoria: But go fuck yourself.

I smiled and set my phone aside. I was just about ready to start sketching in my sketchbook again when my phone buzzed.

Victoria: Max is submitting the picture she took of me.

Victoria: Fuck my portfolio. This picture is perfect.

I stared at the phone screen, mouth hanging open.

Well damn, that was unexpected.

A thought formed in my head, and I stood up from my desk. I had a quick shopping trip to make, and it needed to happen now, while Victoria was distracted.

FRIDAY

I took a deep breath. And another deep breath. And another.

C'mon, Taylor, you can do this.

One more breath, just to make sure.

Finally, I raised my hand and knocked on Kate Marsh's dormitory door. The violin music coming from within stopped, and there was a moment's pause before the door opened. Kate looked up at me, surprised. “Oh, hello, Taylor, what brings you here?”

I shuffled awkwardly, shifting the potted tulips from one hand to another. “Can we talk?”

The conversation was long and awkward and rambling, as I confessed to being the one to deface Kate's slate on Monday and being one of the people giving her shit since the previous week. I offered her the tulips, and she took them gratefully. Through the whole thing, she was ridiculously fucking nice, and by the end, I was on the verge of tears. Then Kate hugged me and said, “I forgive you,” and then the dam broke and the waterworks came.

By the time I stepped back out of Kate's room, I felt like I'd been run though a wringer. A really shitty one, which explained why my face was still so soggy; at least I'd had the foresight to avoid putting makeup on yet. I caught a glimpse of Dana giving me an approving nod before she closed her dorm door. I stood there in the hall like an idiot for a few moments, trying not to think too hard about the whole mess. No point now that it was all over, right? Then, realizing that the bathroom was free for once, I went in to get myself cleaned up before the day's classes.

---

Victoria intercepted me as soon as I stepped out of my dorm room after getting changed. “You. Me. Cafe. Now,” she declared, and that was that.

The moment we stepped off Blackwell's campus, she leaned in close and started speaking in a low voice. “Taylor, I have something important to talk about. I... I think I have a thing for Max Caulfield.”

I raised an eyebrow, looking sidelong at her. “...A thing.”

“Yes, Taylor, a thing. Did I stutter?”

“No, but it's, like, pretty vague,” I answered, the start of a shit-eating grin spreading across my face. “What kind of thing? Did you get her another cardigan? Maybe getting her a figurine to match the one she gave you? Or another kind of thing? Like, a bucket of paint to dump on her when she's walking out of the dorm?”

Victoria glowered at me. “You're an asshole. You know what I mean, Taylor. I have...” She gulped. “I have a crush on Max.”

“Oh. Well no shit, Vic, I've been telling you that for, like, a year!”

“I thought you were full of shit!”

“I was, but that doesn't mean I was wrong!”

She groaned and ran a hand down her face, her voice lowering even more as we stepped into the cafe. “What a fucking mess. I guess it's inevitable, with her being the closest thing I have to a peer at this shitshow of a school. Uh, no offense.”

I rolled my eyes. It took a lot more than that to offend me these days.

“But fuck,” Victoria continued, “this could just ruin everything. This week has been... nice. Like I don't need to be a mega-bitch to her anymore. But, ugh, romance could just fuck everything up. How do I even know she's even into girls?”

“She's been wearing a rainbow bracelet for the last month,” I pointed out helpfully. Seriously, how much of a flashing neon sign did Victoria need?

“That could mean anything!”

A big one, apparently. “It means she's hella fucking gay, Vic.”

Victoria scowled at me, but she was interrupted when her phone buzzed. Her expression softened for a moment, and she shot back a quick text exchange before turning back to me. “Then what about her friends? The asshole punk and Rachel fucking Amber? She's probably into one of them, or into Kate.”

“Pretty sure Chloe and Rachel mostly have eyes for each other,” I answered, before pausing to give my order to the barrista. “Anyway, if she was having a fling with one of them, wouldn't she have tried to partner up with them? This contest is, like, the perfect opportunity to get cozy with someone you're into.” Which, come to think of it, might have been part of why Hayden was being so pouty with me. Huh. Well, fuck 'im.

“Vanilla latte and a croissant to go,” Victoria barked at the barrista. We stepped to the side to wait. “I dunno, Taylor,” she continued, sounding softer and more vulnerable than I'd seen her in a long time. “I just don't want to fuck anything up. Y'know?”

I sighed as we picked up our coffees and started back to Blackwell (Victoria didn't dig into the croissant yet; weird). “Well, what's the worst that can happen?”

“Rejection, mockery, a loss of all my social status, disinheritance by my parents, my career blackballed forever, I die alone in a gutter” Victoria answered blandly.

I glared at her. “What's the worst that's likely to happen?”

She paused, thinking about that. “...She says no, I guess. Probably pretty nicely, too.”

“See?” I grinned. “There we are. You don't need to jump right in, either. Just keep spending time with her. Show that you're not going to return to mega-bitch mode as soon as you've won the contest.”

“We haven't won the contest yet, Taylor,” Victoria said, pushing open the main entrance of the school.

“Oh, like you're not going to win the contest,” I answered with rolled eyes. “Just do it, girl. Get on that hipster and ride!”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Victoria groaned as we stepped into the photography classroom.

It wasn't hard to spot Max; she was sitting in her usual seat, back in her usual clothes, nervously fiddling with the folder for her and Victoria's contest entry; she jumped when Victoria walked over and gave her the croissant. I gave Max a winning smile and a wink before sliding into my chair. I might have also mouthed, “Go get 'er, tiger” at her, but she didn't catch it. Her eyes were on Victoria. Smirking to myself, I stretched and started chatting with Courtney, who was sitting in on the class 'to give moral support' (though I'm not sure if it was intended for Victoria, or for Hayden, who spent the whole class pouting sullenly at me; I'm pretty sure she wound up helping him with the contest more than I did).

Max and Victoria won the contest, of course. Chloe and Rachel dragged Max off to celebrate, of course. Courtney and I gave Victoria our own celebration, starring a bottle of Kalhua securely hidden in my room. Victoria only took the initial shot, though, before begging off to go work on her portfolio. Courtney and I hung out for a bit after that, working through a bit more of the bottle before capping it and stowing it again; I may be a party girl, but I wasn't about to get blackout drunk in the middle of the day. Courtney had just left to get some studying done when my phone beeped at me.

Victoria: holyfuck Max looked atm y portfolio and we talked about working togheter and then I kissed her and she kissed me back

Victoria: I thikn were dating?

Victoria: she's cuddling upt o me an d lookng at my protfolio again what do I do

I about keeled over, giggling to myself at the string of typo-ridden texts. Through sheer force of will, I made myself stop long enough to go to my door, open it, and shout into the hallway, “FUCKING FINALLY!” before shutting the door and collapsing back onto my bed.

Victoria: FUCK YOU TAYLOR

Victoria: I HEAR YOU LAUGHING

Victoria: I THINK SHE WANTS TO KISS ME AGAIN

Victoria: HELP I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO

I grinned to myself, sending a text to Courtney (“You owe me ten bucks”) before replying to Victoria.

Me: I left some dental dams in your nightstand yesterday in case of this.

Me: Don't wear yourself out. You still have your playdate with Nathan this weekend.

Me: Have fun~! Be safe~!

Snickering to myself, I turned my phone off, and savored the sound of Victoria's frustrated yell from down the hall. Setting the phone aside, I lay back on my bed, fingers laced behind my head.

Here, at last, was the peace and quiet that I'd been missing all week. Victoria was busy with her new girlfriend, Courtney had been proven wrong, things were settled between me, Kate, and Dana, and Hayden didn't have any reason to bug me anymore.

Yup, good ol' peace and quiet.

…

…

…

Fuck, I'm bored.