one

sixteen

Sophie's point of view

Time passed seamlessly, Maeve and I still revelling in the odd high we had been riding since the school dance. Being friends again was far easier: my life didn't feel complicated or convoluted anymore, but instead things seemed to actually be falling into place and I was finally becoming certain that I belonged, not just in one of Mooredale's numerous social cliques, but rather in the world as a whole. I flicked a cigarette butt off the windowsill and swung my legs gently, my hand tapping instinctually and unnoticed in time with the music flooding gently out of my headphones. I grabbed my guitar from off the floor, knowing full well that no one would be in here for another hour. Pulling out my headphones with one hand I began to simultaneously strum with the other, shifting my weight so that I was cradling the guitar carefully, my back pressed into a crevice in the wall. Music was, is, beautiful to me and somehow the more outwardly ansty the song I play seems to be, the more it inwardly relaxes me. I don't know how long I was there for, I assume just over an hour but who knows, long enough at least to lose myself completely somewhere in the first few lyrics of a ballad and intertwine myself perfectly with the melody echoing off the walls around me.

Anyway, such serenity was well and truly disrupted when I was snapped out of my trance-like state by the sound of boots hitting the floor, therefore probably Maeve approaching and, from the excessive noise, likely with force. My head snapped up, meeting creased eyebrows and pissed off eyes. The odd thing about Maeve was that initially she seemed like a closed book, totally impossible to read, especially when it came to feelings, but after the first sleepover I suppose things had seemed to shift to that extent at least. She was open, calm, rational but also really willing to be emotional when she needed to be. It was therefore not even vaguely surprising when, barely through the door, she began to vent. "Soph, it's not fucking fair. So you know this stupid fucking shitty aptitude scheme fucking thing..." I grinned, despite what would inevitably come next, at her excessive cursing, Maeve wasn't afraid to swear at the best of times but when she was angry it was another level of blasphemy, "anyway" she carried on "Miss fucking Sands says I have to write about my fucking plans for ten years time but what if I don't fucking have any fucking shitty fucking plans", she got out, glaring intermittently at an imaginary Miss Sands on the bathroom door. I looked up at her, concerned but also relieved it wasn't anything much worse. Maeve had a terse relationship, at best, with her family so I suppose I was glad, if unwilling to admit it, that it wasn't related to that. As someone who has never had the most amiable relationship with my parents, I always think I'm not best fit to comfort her though any trials she faces. Life plans however, was something I could actually help with. I met her eyes, "Dude, you're such a talented, hardworking and inherently good person, you can aim higher than you think", I bit my lip, thinking "but honestly, we're barely seventeen, you don't have to know what you're doing next week let alone next year or in ten years time. You have so much time to figure out what you want to do, and whatever you do it will be amazing, because you're amazing Maeve." Maeve looked at me softly, a weird smile starting to curl at the corner of her lips. "What?" I managed to get out, smiling myself now. "You called me Maeve", she said, her eyes going all wide, making me laugh unintentionally. I leapt down from the windowsill and hugged the side of her body with my right arm crushing her lung. She looked at me, eyes twisting painfully until they found mine. "Why does this always happen?" I stuttered out as she moved closer to my face, her finger grazing the corner of my chin as her body shifted effortlessly to face mine. Maeve pulled herself away at the last second, grinning broadly at my now scarlet face: "guess I'm just that desirable...". I rolled my eyes, "I get it you're not interested". Maeve looked at me, oddly sad "Regardless, I think we're just going to have to make it an unofficial agreement, you know, I try and kiss you and every time I do you make sure you go red, it shouldn't be too challenging considering the evidence we have so far". I looked at Maeve and laughed seeing the earnestness written all over her face, "It's a deal".