Summary: Max and Victoria take a daytrip down to Portland to buy Max new clothes (Courtney wasn't so happy with the outfit Max wore to her first Vortex Club function). After a surprisingly romantic time at the mall, they have ice cream on a hill at Council Crest Park. Things will never be the same between them.

September 7, 11:20am

Victoria was almost done putting on her face by the time she heard the knock on her door. That must be her.

"Come in, Max," she called, not looking away from the mirror she used on her desk.

The door opened, and there was a bit of hesitation before it closed. Then, "Hey Victoria."

Sure, Victoria couldn't see her, but she knew exactly what Max would be wearing. A t-shirt or tank top along with that infernal sweat shirt, despite the fact that it had been in the high seventies for the entire month. Max never wore anything different, like Taylor before she had discovered sundresses went with jackets. Luckily, Victoria had prepared for this inevitability.

"There's clothes on the bed for you. You and Courtney are the same size, I'm pretty sure, so everything should fit you fine. I'll do your makeup in a sec."

There was no shuffling to get dressed behind her, so Victoria figured Max must be confused. Then Max said, "Uhh? I mean, aren't we going to buy clothes? Why would I need nice clothes or makeup to buy nice clothes and makeup?"

Victoria sighed, setting down her brush and turning in her chair. Of course, Max was dressed precisely as Victoria had imagined, though she didn't think she'd seen the creepy Silence of the Lambs t-shirt before. Gross. Max absolutely could not be left to her own devices.

"Because, Max, we have to see if the nice clothes will look nice on you. That means you should already be wearing something nice so we can see if it'll match. Of course, these aren't your clothes, but they'll at least give us some ideas as we go along. As for the makeup, I want to know how you'll look in total when we go out. And I get that you don't really wear makeup, fine, but if you're going to start going to parties and meeting famous photographers and talking to nice galleries, you're going to have to look more . . . put together."

Max pouted, shoulders sagging as if she was planning on dragging her hands over the ground all day. She said, "I mean, it seems a little misogynist if people are only going to take me seriously when I look nice."

Victoria rolled her eyes. "Of course it is, Max. The world is a sexist place, doubly so in industries about appearances. We're not about to change that when nobody even knows our names."

Max crossed her arms over her chest, but gave no protest. "Fine," she responded, "I'll wear Courtney's clothes."

"Thank you Victoria," Victoria chimed as she turned back around to face the mirror.

"'Thank you Victoria,'" Max repeated, and then the shuffling of clothes being pulled off and replaced began.

Once Max had apparently replaced her shirt, Max started to talk over the sound of her zipper. "So, how'd you get so good at all this? Looking good, I mean. I never really got how girls just seemed to pick it up."

Victoria was satisfied with her face, so she moved on to her eyes. "Youtube, mostly, and my mom. I can't really say I had a choice."

Max was done, but there was still a lot of jangling. Moving change between pants, maybe? "What do you mean?"

Hmm, that's right. Max really might not know. She doesn't have much reason to. "Well, you see, my doctor was a real bitch. Back when I was fifteen, and I was looking to get hormones, my doctor refused to prescribe them until I had 'lived experience' as a woman. And, in his eyes, I guess that meant having long hair, wearing skirts every day, and learning to contour, because that's what it took. I had no fucking clue there were even standards of care at the time. I thought that was procedure."

Max was done changing, so she sat down on the bed next to Victoria's desk. "Wow . . . that's some bullshit," she said.

"Don't I know it." Victoria smirked, swiveling her chair to face Max with one eye mostly done, so the left side of her face looked much heavier. "But hey, don't I make such a pretty girl now?"

Victoria swiveled back to her mirror, expecting no response. However, she could see Max nodding out of the corner of her eye.
Max said aloud, though so quietly Victoria wasn't sure she knew she was speaking, "You really do."

Victoria refrained from talking further, or looking Max in the eye for a minute until she was done. Once her composure returned, though, she turned towards Max again. "Come on, I'll do you and then we'll go."

"I still don't see why we have to go all the way to Portland," Max whined from the passenger's seat.

They were just passing through Tillamook, the most depressing county seat imaginable, and Victoria was taking the time to enjoy the low speed limit by leaning into the wind out of her window.

Victoria glanced at Max, unable to comprehend literally a single idea that came out of Max's mouth. "Are you serious right now? You spent what, a quarter of your life in Seattle before moving back to this hick ass county and you don't see why we'd go to a city to go shopping?"

Max shrugged. "There are boutiques in the county with nice clothes."

It was kind of dangerous to emote too much while driving, so Victoria settled for a "Uuuuugggghhhhh," followed up with a, "No, they have hand-stitched sundresses made by old grandmas and secondhand Urban Outfitter designs with Navajo patterns on them. God, Max, did you even leave your house while you were in Washington?"

Now Max looked annoyed. "Yes, Victoria. I was just never very interested in vanity."

Victoria grinned, putting on a more nasally voice, "'I'm not like other girls.'"

"Got that right," Max laughed, the annoyance disappearing from her face as fast as it had appeared.

"Well," Victoria said, "maybe you should have. Vanity suits you."

Max was still smiling, though an unfamiliar look crept onto her face. She was hard to read, given how little she ever animated. "You think so?" she asked.

"Would I be buying you clothes if I didn't?"

Max sunk back into her seat, elbow up on the window sill, though hers wasn't rolled down all the way.
She looked cocky. It was a good look on her, just like Courtney's clothes were. Max could be cute. It was too bad she didn't seem to know that.

September 7, 2:52pm

It had been like an hour. It turned out Max had bigger commitment issues with clothes than Courtney's dad had to her mom.

"Yes! Okay, yes, it's cute. God, okay, Max, it's gorgeous, just please, please decide on something to buy."

Max had eschewed everything too feminine once they'd arrived at Pioneer Place and started going through the clothing stores. Victoria had never really been interested in men's fashion, beyond the extent she'd had to wear a suit on occasion after turning twelve or so for gallery showings and things like that. It was hard trying to mash up her stylistic preferences along with Max's absolute assertion that her pants be from the men's section, because 'they're so comfy, and the pockets are endless!' They'd spent the better part of the hour switching between clingy, arms-length shirts and tops, ignoring Max's interest in a leather jacket. Nobody wore a fucking leather jacket in Arcadia Bay or at art events and it would just look weird.

Max's head cocked to the side curiously. She didn't seem frustrated, which was how she had responded the past six times or so Victoria had announced that an outfit was adequate. "Do you really think it's gorgeous?" she asked.

Victoria sighed, slumping back against the changing room hall's wall. Max was trying on a striped, slightly see-through shirt very similar to Courtney's preferred casual look, though she'd paired it with a cardigan with thick, contrasting lines around the edges. Max looked pretty, very pretty, but like everything else, she was concerned that it was too girlish.
Victoria put her hand to her temple where a headache was rapidly coming on. "Yes, Max, I do. You look good in everything - you're skinny and small, so everything fits you, you look a little professional but not so much that you're overdoing it, the cardigan even matches your lipstick, and while you may have no butt, you're wearing boy jeans, so it's not like anyone would notice if you did."

Max's mouth pinched into a point. It looked a little silly with how her lipstick was smeared (she touched her face constantly), but Victoria could tell she was mulling something over. She turned back around to her stall, looking herself over again.

"Are you sure I'm pretty enough? Like this works?"

Victoria had never seen Max like this. It was no wonder that she avoided vanity - it seemed to make her distressed very easily.

Victoria took a few steps forward so Max could see her face in the mirror. "Of course you're pretty, Max. You were pretty the whole time. I think the thing that's bothering you is that you don't want to be pretty."

"What do you mean?" Max asked, clearly confused.

Victoria exhaled slowly, trying to gather her thoughts. She pinched her own sweater, trying to make an example. "Look," she said, "beauty is all about gender conformity, right? People find women beautiful when they highlight everything about them that is meant to mark them as women. The beauty is in the binary, and you hate that."

Max turned around slowly. As Max looked up at her, Victoria became keenly aware of the short distance between them. Max was so pretty. But was it wrong of Victoria to try and make her be? Even if, from every angle she looked at it, she was looking out for Max?

"But don't you hate that?" Max asked. She didn't seem upset, like Victoria had expected. She seemed . . . gentle. Hesitant. Meek, even, like an animal trying to guess whether Victoria were friendly or not.

Victoria swallowed, then nodded. "I mean, of course I do, Max. But I also love being beautiful, and I love people knowing that I'm beautiful. Wanting it to be some other way doesn't make it so."

Max's eyebrows furrowed as she got lost in thought, staring right past Victoria. A woman pushed past them with a huge handful of items, entering the stall at the end.
After a pause, Victoria laid a hand on Max's shoulder to get her attention. When Max looked back up, remembering that she was there, Victoria said quietly, "You know what I did almost as soon as I could walk freely after my bottom surgery? When I didn't need any more approval from any more doctors and any more therapists to look like myself?"

Max shook her head.

Victoria reached up, running her fingers through her cropped hair. "I cut off all my hair. I had grown it out for four years. I styled it almost every day. And as soon as I could, I chopped it all off and bleached it." Victoria paused for a second, then continued, "I always hated having long hair."

Max raised her hand slowly, hesitantly, towards Victoria's hair. She paused partway, as if asking for approval, and Victoria nodded.

As she ran her hand through Victoria's hair, she whispered, "That's too bad. I think I would like your hair long . . . it's so beautiful."
Sensing Victoria's discomfort, perhaps, Max continued, "But that's not for me to decide."

Victoria wanted to kiss Max, she knew that much. She couldn't tell if it was because of how delicate Max's touch was, or the way she was looking into her eyes, or that Victoria had revealed something personal, or just that they were so close. Victoria had this impulse sometimes, of course, but she'd never known how to act on it. The only girl she had ever kissed . . . she had seen it in her eyes, Victoria was sure. She couldn't imagine any other reason why else she would have kissed her.

"Is it okay if I pick out another outfit for you?" Max asked, dropping her hand from Victoria's hair.

Victoria smiled. It helped diffuse that knot inside her, the one that pulled tighter every time something like this happened. "Of course." Beat. "No promises I'll buy it, though."

Max grinned, and that broke the tension, finally. "That's fair," she replied.

They spent the next twenty minutes or so flitting all over the women's section, although that composed about half of the entire floor they were on, with Max only stopping long enough at a rack to hold something over Victoria's body for a second. She seemed to know exactly what she was looking for - whatever it was, it was red. Red on black? Hmm, no, it looked like Max gave up on that idea rather fast. But after twenty minutes of this mad dash, Max was only holding three additional pieces of clothing from before - a red dress, white lace stockings, and red heels maybe three inches tall.

"Are you - are you seriously going to make me wear heels?" Victoria asked, once Max actually took the box with them. "I'll be a giant."

Max had already starting walking out of the shoe section, but she paused just long enough to look over her shoulder and say almost snidely, "Well, yeah, but a fucking hot one." And then she just kept walking, heels in hand.

Well, all right then, Victoria thought, lagging behind for a moment before jogging to catch up.

"Wait, where are we going now?" Victoria asked. They were headed to a part of the store they hadn't come to at all in the past hour and a half.

"To the part of the men's section where they have suits," Max replied.

Victoria stopped dead in her tracks - it was a pace or two before Max followed suit, turning back towards Victoria.

"Max," Victoria said cautiously, "I haven't worn any men's clothing since I was fourteen."

Max nodded in reply. "Yeah. And I haven't worn a dress since I was thirteen. But you dressed me up like a girl, and now I'm going to dress you a little more nonbinary."

"But I don't know if I'd ever wear something like that," Victoria protested.

"Fair, fair," Max said, taking a step back towards Victoria. "But you'd look killer in a suit."

And she did. The suit was red like her dress and her heels, which was a little too much for Victoria, but she couldn't pretend that she didn't look good. It was bright, and in your face, and it made her butt look good, and it was something she would absolutely never wear, and it made her look huge, and it also made her look hot. Very hot. Even Max's face told her that much.

"I . . . I don't know," Victoria said. It wasn't a custom suit like she would have wanted were she to buy one, and a good three hundred dollars cheaper than any suit she'd ever worn before. Moreover, it was a goddamn suit, and she couldn't think of a place she'd go where she'd be caught dead in it.

Max answered, "Oh, you know. You know."

Victoria's voice rose in pitch as she got more distressed, "I know it looks good, I do, but I feel like this suit is walking imposter's syndrome and I'm so huge with this and the heels."

Max's voice was softer when she replied. "Is it too much?" she asked. "We can stop. You don't have to buy it. I think I just . . . wanted to make something beautiful I wasn't so scared of."

Victoria turned back towards her changing room mirror, taking a step closer to it. She fluffed up her hair. She pulled her jacket taut. She turned to one side, and then the other. Then she just hummed quietly to herself.
"I guess I could have it tailored," she said, thinking aloud.

In the mirror, Max's face brightened. "Really? You'll buy it?"

Victoria nodded, exhaling loudly. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. It's only fair, right? Well, in the kind of fair where I have fuck-tons of money for clothes, but yeah."

Max grinned as Victoria turned back around. "Now let me get changed," Victoria said, Max stepping back as she closed the door.

By the time she'd taken the suit jacket off and stepped out of her heels, there was a knock at the door.

"Yeah Max?"

"Victoria . . . do you like me?"

The knot in Victoria's chest returned suddenly, the rope of nervousness brushing over her neck in warning.
"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean, are you attracted to me?"

Tighter. "What . . . what's bringing this on?"

"I'm very attracted to you. I mean, I haven't been doodling our names in little hearts in my notebook but I . . . like you."

Tighter. "Well I . . ." tighter. "I like you too, Max. You kind of fascinate me."

There was a little chuckle from outside, and then Max responded, "I'm glad."

There was a pause, and then Max's voice appeared again, "Victoria. Would you like to have sex with me?"

Victoria thought she might choke. "Uhhh," Victoria mumbled, then, "like, right now?"

Max only said, "Yeah."

Oh god.
Oh my fucking god.
She wants to have sex in the changing room.
Do I want to have sex with her?
Okay, okay, fine, I'm a little curious, but here? Seriously?
Okay, wait, maybe that's fine. I've seen like two people come in this whole time, and I can totally masturbate quietly, at least.
Am I seriously going to fuck Max in a changing room?
What if she's joking?
What if I say yes and she's actually joking?
Will she make fun of me?
But what if I take it as a joke and she's not joking?

"You still there?" Max asked.

"Uhhhhh yeah. Hold on."

After a second longer of hesitation, Victoria unlatched the door and pulled it open. Max stood there, no different from before, in her freaky t-shirt and faded jeans. This was nothing like the first time. This wasn't a seduction. This was . . . curiosity. For both of them.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked. It was soft, forceless, like when she'd reminded Victoria they didn't have to buy the suit. It was different. This was definitely different.

Victoria nodded, and Max stepped forward, standing on her toes as she held Victoria's face and kissed her. The first kiss was soft, just warm and gentle and hesitant. They barely knew each other. Their bodies weren't familiar with each other. That was only to be expected. But the second kiss was hard, and Victoria inhaled sharply in surprise. By the time it was over, Victoria was panting, and she could taste lipstick.

"Oh."

Max stepped in as Victoria took a step back, and the door was latched behind them a second later. Then Victoria was up against the mirror, the glass cool against her legs and neck while Max was very, very warm. Why wouldn't she be? She was always wearing that damn sweat shirt.
Oh, nevermind, that was the first thing to go.

As Max's kisses started anew on Victoria's neck, she blurted out, "I've wanted you this whole time." It almost sounded like a whine. Victoria wasn't even sure why she said it.

Max pulled back, blinking a few times in rapid succession. Then she said, "Me too."

Victoria hadn't taken off any of her clothes (she didn't even know if she was going to), but she felt naked, exposed when the truth was out there instead of in her hand. That was how the knot stayed so tight, but it was also what kept her from unraveling. Being in total control of her feelings was her way of being in total control of herself.

Max made a twirling motion with her finger, and then said, "Turn around."

Victoria obeyed, turning until Max's hand fell on her hip, stopping her. The zipper on the back of Victoria's dress started coming undone, and after it, a trail of kisses down Victoria's spine. No, this was nothing like the first time. That had been so . . . sloppy, so careless. Max kissed every notch on Victoria's spine, and nothing felt like the first time.

Victoria's dress was on the floor, and Max's kisses finally ended. There must be pink spots all over Victoria's skin. They really should have used lipstick that didn't come off so easy.

"Why don't you sit down?" Max whispered. "It'll be easier."

Victoria complied. She was nervous. Although this was what she wanted, there was still that little voice telling her that something could go wrong, that Max wouldn't like her, that there would be regrets.
As Max's fingers hooked into the band of her underwear, Victoria caught her hands, halting everything for a second. Max looked up at her, unsure of whether or not that was a sign to stop.

"Let me . . . let me do it," Victoria said, and Max dropped her hands as Victoria slid her underwear onto the floor. Victoria swallowed, and said, "Kiss me."

Confusion - finally something! - emerged on Max's face. "Where?" she asked.

Victoria covered her mouth as she giggled, then said, "My mouth, you ass."

Max stood up from her crouch, bracing herself on the bench as she leaned over. "Well, hey, it was a little unclear, okay?"

"Okay," Victoria said, knotting her fingers in Max's hair as they kissed.

Then the kiss broke from their lips, and down Max went her neck, her chest, her stomach, her navel, her-

"You're going to get your lipstick everywhere," Victoria wined. It was already smeared all over Max's face.

Max only smiled, lowering face so that Victoria couldn't see her mouth anymore. "I don't give a fuck about my lipstick," she said, and then Victoria gasped.

September 7, 4:16pm

Max seemed to take the 'eating' part of 'eating ice cream' very seriously. Victoria was pretty sure she'd never seen someone older than six actually try and bite ice cream, and here was Max doing it in rapid succession.

"Oh my God," Victoria exclaimed, "doesn't that hurt your teeth?"

Max licked her lips and then responded, "Why would it hurt my teeth?"

"Because it's cold."

"Why would something being cold hurt my teeth?"

Victoria gave her the most neutral stare she could muster. "Because that's how it works."

Max shrugged, returning to her sugar cone. "Not for me."

They were sitting off the trail somewhere at Council Crest park, whose reviews included several recommendations to make out on the hills. Victoria had no idea if that's what they were here to do, really, but none of the other parks had that even suggested in their reviews. Plus, it had a fantastic view of the city, and that was the most important thing. The view always reminded Victoria of the Japanese gardens - it was too bad they didn't have time to visit on their day trip.

"So," said Max, "if I join the Vortex club after this, does that technically count as nepotism?"

God, Max was a messy eater, and it was distracting. She had ice cream on her cheek in two places - who does that at age eighteen?
"You've got a little something, Max, here," Victoria said, swirling a finger on her own cheek.

"Huh? Oh, thanks."

"And as for your question - the Vortex Club doesn't pride itself on its democratic merits. It's more about rising to the nobility, you know, feudalism style."

Max's eyes popped way open sarcastically as she kept eating. "Oh, wow, that sounds totally awesome. Feudalism. Love that."

Victoria shrugged. "It is what it is?"

Max laughed at that and said, "Oh, of course, as long as you're on top 'it is what it is.'"

Victoria stuck her spoon in her mouth for a second, letting the ice cream melt in her mouth for a second. Then she replied, "Yep. And that's how you'll think when you're on top, too."

Max glanced at Victoria side-eye, a smirk on her face for a silent second. Then she shrugged. "Nah. Can't say I'm into that. That's how you get stuff like capitalism, art snobbery, and . . . gender." Max shivered at that last word.

Victoria accepted that in stride. "Those are like my favorite things, Max. I love being an art snob. I was born - no, made to be an art snob."

"You're going to be great at it," Max said, nodding.

"Thanks, jerk," Victoria said, pushing Max's shoulder so she toppled over. Luckily, the ice cream stayed on its cone.

Once Max sat herself back up, she said, "See? See the violence inherent in the system? The oppression? Workers of the world unite, we-"

Victoria reached out again, but this time she grabbed Max's jacket. "Please shut up," she interrupted, and scooted closer to Max to kiss her. It was cold, and public, and just another thing she had never done, and it felt good.

They were both quiet after the kiss, returning to their ice cream. Well, in Max's case, finish chewing the cone, but that technically counted.

When she finished it, though, and there was nothing left to distract her, Max asked, "So, is that it? Are we friends who kiss sometimes now?"

Victoria shrugged. "I'm not the one who decided to toss a casual friendship aside to fuck in a changing room - I feel like you can answer that question better than I can."

Max laid back on the grass. It was shady where they sat, but Victoria could already tell Max was getting a sunburn. She was one of those people with pale skin who just got murdered by the sun, it seemed. Maybe that was why she kept the sweatshirt on all the time.
"Hmm," Max hummed. "When I got accepted to Blackwell, I knew I'd only be coming back for a year. After that, it was college and a career, places where my decisions might matter, but here? The worst that could happen is I feel awkward around someone for a year, and then I'd never see them again. So I decided I wanted to be a slut while I still could."

Victoria nearly spit out her ice cream as she started laughing. Lucky that there wasn't enough for big bites left in the cup, perhaps.
Max? Max wanted to be a slut? But she was so . . . well, not what Victoria pictured when she pictured a slut.

As Victoria settled down, she asked, "So what? This was your first pit stop on your adventure to be a slut?"

Now that the humor was starting to wear off, Victoria wasn't sure how she felt about that. It made her feel . . . cheap. It was a familiar feeling, and precisely the one Victoria had been hoping to avoid when she'd agreed to it. Then again, what else was she expecting of Max, exactly? What else did she even want out of her?

"I don't know," Max said after a short pause. "I don't think that's it. I wasn't kidding when I said I liked you. But I also . . . want to be kind of reckless, you know? And I'm not sure if you noticed but our classmates are kind of hot."

Victoria hadn't noticed that, actually. Every beautiful person in a place like Arcadia Bay was rare, and their beauty and rarity made them dangerous in a place like this. It was always clear that they didn't belong - to themselves, and to the people around them.

Still, Victoria was getting the impression she knew Max even less than she had thought. "I get that you want to be reckless and all, and that this place is a dumpster you can just as well set fire to as you leave, but your actions still have consequences, Max. I don't mean to sound like an abstinence-only sex educator just . . . I don't know. Things can get pretty fucked up in a year, you know?"

Max laughed, turning to look up straight at Victoria. Even back in her old clothes, Max looked beautiful under the dappled sunlight. Victoria hadn't seen her eyes in the light before, really, but they were . . . good.
"Actually, you sound more like Kate Marsh."

Victoria grimaced. That was even worse. "God, fine, I take it back. Fuck everybody, no regrets."

Max's chuckle continued, but she quieted down faster this time. "That's not an insult, you know. I like her."

Seriously? How are Max and I even friends, I swear to God.
"Really? You don't find her, you know, irritating? Stuck up? Bitchy?"

"Nah," Max said, dismissing Victoria off-hand. "She seems sweet. Genuine. Really smart. And a little gay, question mark?"

What. "What? What makes you say that?"

"She kind of asked me out on a date, maybe." Max's face pinched. "I'm not sure, but if she weren't Christian I definitely would think it was a date."

Well, that's unexpected.
Victoria wasn't sure if that made her like Kate more or less. There was always a little bit of distrust she held for queer Christians, though she hadn't examined it very deeply. If she actually took the time to ask herself, a part of her knew it was how invalid her anger felt in the face of faith, but she carefully did not ask herself.

A question appeared in Victoria's mind. She knew she shouldn't ask it - it would make her seem attached in a way she most certainly did not want to.
It came out anyway. "So, this maybe date. What is it?"

Max looked up at the branches of the tree instead of at Victoria's face. "Kate's taking me to a coffee shop downtown tomorrow. She wants to study together, but it's for a class we haven't had any graded assignments in yet, and I clearly don't know what's going on. So I think she's just taking me out for coffee or tea because . . . gay?"

There was a short pause in which Victoria didn't know what to say.
Luckily, Max was quick to fill in the gap in conversation. "What's your deal with her, anyway? It's like you disliked her on sight."

That wasn't true. Victoria had at first decided she simply didn't care one way or another about one of the new girls of photography. It wasn't until the end of class the first day that Victoria had settled on disliking her, and the reason was painfully obvious and obviously petty. Kate had taken Mr. Jefferson's TA role. Moreover, she had acted like she didn't even want, like she was doing it just to help out. No one was altruistic without motivation, especially when it came to the rich and famous. Victoria hated people who pretended to be better than they were.

"I guess . . ." Victoria started, but she had no ending for that sentence. What could she even say without sounding childish?
"Everything she says seems too good. Like, practiced, 'please notice what a pure flower I am.' Real people aren't like that. They fuck up and have shitty ideas."

"Hmm," Max hummed. Then, she rolled on her side, forcing Victoria to turn a little to look her in the eye. "So what you're saying is that you think she's perfect, and that pisses you off."

"Ew, no. Fuck off." Max was starting to get on her nerves a little, prying a little too close. This was one of the main reasons why Taylor and Courtney were so easy to spend time with - they didn't ask questions they didn't need the answers to. Most of the time, Nathan was like that too - and even better, he didn't divulge things he didn't need to, either.

Well. Victoria couldn't pretend it had been easy to spend time with Nathan lately, exactly.

Max shrugged, dropping onto her back. "Suit yourself," she said, "but I think you'd actually like her, if you talked to her. She doesn't talk much, but when you get her going - well, she knows a shit-ton, I guess I'll just say that."

Victoria didn't want to hear this.
"Max. If I kiss you and you promise not to overthink it once this trip's over, will you please shut up about Kate Marsh?"

"Hm. Deal."

This was going to get grass stains all over Victoria's clothes. And even if she'd asked Max not to overthink it, Victoria knew she'd be tearing this whole trip apart long after she'd washed the stains from her clothes and the lipstick from her skin.

September 7, 7:10pm

As she pulled into the parking lot at Blackwell, the nervousness that had begun to grow throughout the trip back reached a head. Victoria had just had a very strange day with Max, and she wasn't sure what it ending meant. Max would finally have something to wear to Vortex Club stuff, so Courtney would finally feel comfortable letting her in. That was good. Victoria was pretty sure that was good.

As they both reached into the back for their bags, Max paused. "You know," she said, "I've never done anything like today. I hope it was okay."

Victoria didn't know what to say to that, really. It was so hard for her to tell what Max was feeling - when their eyes met, Max's eyes were almost just the same neutral, and Victoria never knew what came next.
"Yeah, I haven't . . . either." A half truth. "But I think it was okay. I think we're . . ." we're what? What are you even trying to say? "In the clear."

"Yeah," Max agreed, settling back into her chair with her bag in her lap. As she reached for her door, though, Victoria tapped her shoulder, trying to get her attention before Max left, and they were actually, really back at school.

Max looked back. If she knew what was coming, Victoria couldn't tell. She just leaned over the seat and kissed Max, and Max kissed her back. She brought her hands up to Victoria's hair, holding her in longer than Victoria had planned for.

Neither of them wanted their day trip to end. It felt like an entirely different car trip than the one they'd set out on.

Would things go back to normal after this? Or would this 'one more kiss' feeling linger in their classes, when they met in the hallway, at parties? If it did, what then?

Before Max left the car, she said, "Thanks for buying me the clothes. They're really pretty."

And all Victoria had to say in response was, "Yeah, of course."

And their trip was over.