Self-proclaimed Poet. (SEX EDUCATION - Maeve Wiley x Female Reader.)

Chapter 1: Lover Boy.

>> Written from Maeve's POV <<
⭒
Monday 23rd of March.
Good morning, Moordale.
Feels like I'm never away from this fucking school. Seven-thirty starts each morning for practice with the Quiz Heads, then it's jammed packed days - full of none stop work since I started on this aptitude scheme.
Despite my constant complaints, I am grateful believe it or not. I'm happy with where I am and the progress I've made. I deserve to be here as much as anyone else does, so Y/N insists on drilling into me practically everyday.
Her persistent reassurance is clearly working though, as I'm slowly beginning to believe it.

That girl, she's a blessing in my life. Although, I'd never tell her that; she'd gloat too much and besides, I've gotta keep up my introverted demeanour somehow. Since she took Dex's place in the Quiz Heads, we've become closer within our friendship. We hang out more often, even outside of school - we go to parties together (only to make fun of all the drunken dancing idiots) and in the summer we even went to a music festival. Gettin' away from Moordale for the weekend couldn't have been more refreshing; especially with such comfortable company alongside me.

But, it's no longer summer and we're back in school. With the sex clinic over, Otis and I are seeing less of each other now. He'll smile at me in the hallway as he passes with Eric gabbing away at him but we hardly speak - only a few odd words here and there. I'm over him. I can finally say that with confidence, with Aimee's help I eventually got there. However, that doesn't mean I'm still not falling. I've found myself in unfamiliar territory, feelings developing unexpectedly for someone far too close for it to go unnoticed or so I thought.

After sharing a drunken kiss at one of Aimee's house parties, I began to see her in a different light. But, I don't think she remembers it the same way I do.
I tried to drop hints, slide subtle compliments into conversation but they turned into complete flops - this girl must seriously have her blinkers on.

So, that's when I decided to delve deeper. I started to write her little notes, that I'd sneak into her locker when she wasn't around. Which quickly turned into full blown love letters, words of want and desire simply pouring out of me. I'd always found it easier to write my feelings down than to speak them aloud. However, despite my greatest efforts she still hadn't contended onto my antics. Y/N has no idea that it's me, yet she reads my own words back to me with such wonder in her eyes at her secret admirer - so I just play along. I humour her, give her the responses she wants to hear cause I'm still too scared, even more so now. Dreading the day she finally has to find out, that it was me all along.

I stumped out my sparking cigarette under the heel of my boot, as I inhaled the last bit of smoke deep into my chest. Letting out a long exhale, while I made my way towards the school entrance. The place was pretty much deserted, but it always is this time of morning.
The only people around were the cleaners, a select few obsessive overachieving students and Mr Groff scurrying around the halls giving himself his daily pep talk.

Once inside I strode towards our usual meeting spot, straightening my quiz head's bow tie with a distasteful scrunch of my nose. I hated this uniform. The bright yellow button up was fucking obnoxious, definitely not my style. Y/N hated it too, but I could never understand why that was; she always looked so cute in it.

"Here we go again." I whispered under my breath, as I reached into the pocket of my signature fringe leather blazer to post my latest assortment of adoration.

I scanned over my writing, inquisitively. The jet black ink slightly smudged at the bottom right hand corner of the page where I signed off with my fake persona of 'Lover Boy' and that was that. As I folded the letter a few times pressing it delicately beneath my fingertips I felt the butterflies swarm in my stomach. Like they did each and every time I stood in front of Y/N's locker. I slid the paper through the gap expertly, letting go gently and listening to it fall securely inside.