one

four

I learnt a lot that lunchtime, like the amount boys talk about jerking off and that Maeve had more of a reputation than even I had realised. I mean after seeing the scrawls on the bathroom door it was obvious people could be cruel about her but the things they were shouting seemed logically stupid. I knew very little about her but the minimal amount I did suggested a totally different person. In fact, under everything she seemed kind, sweet almost, and to call her cock biter seemed oddly contradictory.

Eric, Otis's best friend who I had met a few minutes earlier, leant over and nudged me: "so do you think it's true she gave twelve blow-jobs in under five minutes?" he asked intently. "Honestly, blow jobs races aren't really my thing" I replied sheepishly, "but if I had to answer, doubtful". Otis nodded, "It's just gossip Eric". 

Eric let out a massive sigh. "You guys are boring" he groaned melodramatically, earning glares from everyone around us, "I just want a bit of scandal in my life". 

I didn't answer but secretly I thought, innocent as it sounded, Eric's desire for gossip was wrong. After all, I had been plagued by people talking shit about my life in Oxford and where had that left me, in the middle of Wales with zero friends. So I couldn't help feeling a little defensive of Maeve and the reputation that surrounded her.

...

Later that day I was in history, scrolling through various people's playlists on Spotify, when I heard someone complimenting my shirt. I looked up and saw a girl smiling at me. "Thanks", I answered quickly, "I used to steal it from my brother on the sly but when my parents cleared his stuff out I changed the label and now they think it was mine originally". "That's really cool" she replied, pulling up a chair next to me. "I love your jeans by the way" I said, trying desperately to keep the conversation going, "Wish I could pull off some like that". "They're the perfect bootleg!" she grinned widely at me. I smiled back, trying to seem as though I had any idea what an imperfect bootleg would look like and looked back down at my homework. 

The conversation wasn't a total loss though because, after chatting for most of the lesson and agreeing to work together for whatever the next group project was, she grabbed my phone. "Look, I'm having a party tomorrow night", she said, "I'll text you the address?" "Yeah I mean cool that'd be fine, pffft I can make it, maybe" I fumbled over my words. "Anyway I gotta go but, hope you can come" she yelled as she ran off. 

I didn't really consider the party a big deal. I mean it would be like school, just a million times worse. Never mind, it absolutely was a big deal. Shit.

...

A little later I had met up with Otis and Eric again and, like usual, was totally zoned out of their conversation. I couldn't stop thinking about the prospect of a party. Essentially, how to get through one evening without looking like a total dick. Suddenly I saw Maeve walking over to us. "Maeve is approaching, Otis I'm being serious she's walking towards us with purpose" Eric muttered loudly.

"Hey I need to talk to you" Maeve said gesturing at Otis. I was a little taken aback, where was the veiled insult? 

Eric and I started to walk away, disappointed that we weren't included but not really expecting anything different. Instantly Maeve grabbed my backpack. "Not so fast snowflake" she said pulling me back. Snowflake, there it was. 

"What's up?" I asked, "since when do you chat voluntarily". "Yeah I don't" she shot back quickly, "chatting's just a distraction from the inevitability of death". 

"I suppose it is" Otis replied, looking mildly traumatised. "Yeah Maeve, has anyone ever told you that you can be really dark" I added. 

"Fuck off snowflake" she interrupted hitting my arm with the back of her folder. "Dickhead" I yelled flipping her off dramatically, "you could have killed me". Maeve opened her mouth to let out what would no doubt be a chilling reply but was interrupted by Otis "what's this about then?"

...

It was the evening before I had really taken in what Maeve wanted us to do. Essentially she was suggesting we set up a sex clinic, with Otis as therapist, obviously, Maeve on admin and me there, as far as I could tell, to run odd jobs for everyone else. I grinned, what was the worst that could happen?