one

fifteen

Sophie's Point of View

Maeve grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the hall, simultaneously waving frantically at Aimee so she knew to follow us. Once outside I grabbed Aimee with my other hand, inwardly thanking her lack of questions as to what had just happened and we began to run away from the school gates as fast as we possibly could. It seemed oddly ironic, I had been skiving Sport since I arrived at Moordale, but somehow with Maeve, running felt like the most perfect thing to do. The happiness in my stomach seemed to bubble up to my throat and I choked a little, letting out a random hysterical laugh by accident. Maeve shot me a judgemental look, trying to be serious, but skipped a little despite herself. It just seemed stupid, but somehow stupidly good, to stop giving a shit for even just a little while.

Once we arrived at Maeve's caravan, we each went our own way, carrying out our previously-designated, respective tasks almost unconsciously. Very little had changed since I had last been here, except the small but nevertheless imposing introduction of a makeshift bed in the corner and a small rucksack, I had no recognition of, hanging off a hook on the inside of the door. I walked soundlessly through to the kitchen and leant against the table, watching as Maeve cut the crusts off sandwiches carefully, in other words intensely preparing a culinary masterpiece for dinner later. "Are you expecting guests or something?" I asked, my eyes flicking over Maeve's face as she turned to face me. She rolled her eyes, predictable as always, "It's my brother" she said, "he needed a place to crash for a bit, he's gone out though, I think anyway". I wrinkled my eyebrows slightly, watching her navigate what clearly felt awkward, to her at least, and moved to stand so that I was next to her. "Okay" I replied, signaling that I was alright if she didn't want to say anything else. She sighed and looked me up and down, her eyes meeting mine for an intense second "sorry I didn't tell you sooner" she muttered, "he's the funniest guy I know, he just doesn't tend to stick around for very long so sometimes it's easier to just pretend I don't have siblings." I hugged the side of her arm for a few seconds, feeling her soften against me gently. Maeve shifted her body so it was closer to mine and I leapt back, unconsciously terrified by the red that was now beginning to pool on my cheeks. "What?" she nudged me teasingly, laughing as the crimson began to spread from my cheeks to my neck and the tips of my ears, "if I didn't know better I would say I did something to you". My eyes widened as she began to graze the my cheekbones with her fingers. "Maeve" I managed to stutter out "I-". Maeve stepped back quickly, clearly getting totally the wrong end of the stick as to what I was planning to say and forced an unconvincing grin "I was joking, obviously" she said, grabbing the plate of sandwiches and retreating out of the room towards Aimee. I felt embarrassment settle in the pit of my stomach and sighed as my face began to cool, following her.

... 

I chucked a pillow at Aimee and simultaneously leapt onto the sofa, pulling Maeve down with me. Her hair tickled my nose and I breathed in sharply. Maeve's face inched closer to mine, almost closing the tension-filled gap between us before "Fuck Aimee that hurt" Maeve yelled chucking the pillow dramatically back at her and climbing off me. I pulled her arm "Maeve? Is that going to happen every time I get close to you". Maeve shot me a look, questioning eyes turning into inevitable realisation "the pillow-throwing or the almost-kissing". I gulped, unable to fathom whether she was still teasing me about my tendency to go red every time I was around her or if she felt the unmistakable tension too. Why were things getting so complicated. 

...

Hours later we lay in a comfortable silence, barely watching the final few credits of the film but rather letting the thickness of sleep close our eyes softly. I looked over at Maeve, smiling softly in the dim light. Things were, well, perfect.