Thank somuchlovexoxo for the idea for this! Check out their stories and everything, it was all their prompt and idea to do appreciation week. "Josh finds Maya at a college party." I don't know if this is precisely what they said, but this is how I thought of it happening.


In his experience, it was all like a phantom pain. She was a ghost and it was a real pain to be near but not actually have her. Or, in actuality, know her.

In her experience, she was a ghost floating secretly in the home of the living.

At first, she knew he went to her school, but that was it. Maya had seen him in the halls, watched him outsmart their most arrogant teacher in the college. They never interacted, but she knew his presence. Not his name, however, never his name. Besides, there was no harm in their first interaction. They didn't have mutual friends, Maya didn't go out much, and they only had a few classes together, in which he sat in front and she sat in the back. Maya hadn't even slipped her name.


"Wendy, I have two tests this week and limited time to study for them - this is not what I need," Maya once again tried to convince her roommate. It was true: psychology always felt like a short class, even though it was one of her longest and her test in three days.

Wendy, brushing long brown hair into a high, tight pony-tail that made Maya wonder if her skull had blisters, shook her head. "It's been maybe a month since you've gone out. Anyway, it's my party and you're my friend which means you have an obligation," she put simply. Maya didn't mind being there for her friend, she supposed, but parties were never her favorite undertaking. They were in college, which meant frat boys, which meant hangovers from drinking to get through the night of annoying screams coming from boys drinking even more. It was all a big chore that Maya felt was for someone that wasn't her. Nonetheless, the party was coming over to their house. She could hide in her room for the entire night with loud headphones or try to enjoy what would be there.

"Try to have some fun," Wendy purred. Maya rolled her eyes into her skull.

When the time came, a group of girls came first. Followed not fifteen minutes later was the expected group of the loudest, most drunken frat guys. Maya had already had a cup of something to drink - she had juice. She might have to deal with the incoming storm of alcohol, but that didn't mean she had to have any of her own. She stood by the door, leaning on a drawer with a bored expression. Maya was in charge of greeting the guests if she wasn't going to host. The Hart was willing to comply, running a hand through curly hair. She sighed and took another drink, waving a few fingers to another man who walked in. He wore simple clothes - something you wouldn't mind getting vomit on, but wouldn't look like a rat in either. He had two other friends with him; an afro-wielding party-animals (Wendy's closest guy friend, go figure) and the quiet figure in the front of her sociology class each morning and every afternoon in her maths. Her eyes widened and, her merciful instinct, she dove her face deeper into her solo cup. (It was blue to avoid outbursts of country music.) He glanced at her, a polite smile before his friends whispered something to him.

They left him to flirt with what must have been their game plan the entire time - Wendy the roommate and hostess. He looked back at Maya with a shyness, glancing everywhere but the people. The floor, mainly, and a sideways look of longing to the door. She was merciful as well.

Maya brought her cup to her lap, sitting between both hands. "You really didn't want to come here, did you?" She asked. It was humorous to her, although that felt like a rude thing to admit. The boy gaped at her. He was at a loss and after a moment of his obvious nerves, he nodded.

"I came here to be a wingman, but they don't need one," he confessed. Maya chuckled. He had soft brown hair he shook, using the movement to once again stop staring at the ground. Maya put the blue cup on the black wood of the drawer she sat on, sliding off of it. She walked over to him, keeping at least two feet between them.

"Stop looking at the ground," she commanded, not unkindly, though. "I'm supposed to be in charge of greetings instead of studying. What were your original plans?" Maya was a blunt person - Wendy said that wasn't always perceived as a good thing, but she should never change it.

He watched her. Of course, he was surprised by the charge Maya had already taken, knowing him all that of a few minutes. "I wanted to study, too," he told her. "My name's Josh." He put a hand outward. Maya nodded and shook it. "What class for you? Mine was Humanities."

"Psychology," Maya responded calmly. "That way I can be more commanding of people like this and blame it on my knowledge." She grinned, winning a laugh from him. It was probably the tension of being lost with a stranger. "You're really smart, though, so I don't think I could get away with it with you." Josh shook his head. Ah, she thought, here comes the modesty. Maya may have had a high A in psychology, but that didn't mean she understood the reason people claimed to be less than what they were. Did they not want to stand out? Did they want to seem dumber? What was the benefit from that?

Josh had a soft voice, also. When he spoke, you listened not to hear him, but because his tongue was cursed. You couldn't hear him and not listen. "I'm not that smart. I blame it on early hours." She raised a bored eyebrow. He was lying.

"You don't sleep, you take great notes, and your hand is never on your table," she said matter-of-factly. Although, sometimes she spoke harsher than she meant to. "I think you're Mr. Harrison's favorite, by the way." There was a thud throughout the room. Both Josh and Maya glanced over to see a glass fall on the floor and Wendy shouting at one of Josh's friends. He cursed under his breath.

"I should go," he pointed. Maya nodded before he could finish, excusing herself to her room anyway. Her academics were much more important than that of the frat-boy behavior. Maya didn't pay much attention to their first interaction after she shut her bedroom door, pulled on her headphones, and opened her notebook.


Wendy was a good person, if not just a bit obnoxious. She talked loudly, but she was never mean. She cared about not being rude, which meant her and Maya were social opposites. Maya opted best for honestly and bluntness; she simply had no desire for small-talk or beating around the hypothetically bush. Despite all that, Maya still met her at the end of her economics class for lunch every day and they went out for Subway because Wendy was a fitness buff and Maya liked their banana peppers. The next day worth noting in the storyline of Maya's mysterious acquaintance was the day Wendy needed extra help. An extra ten minutes of explaining from her teacher about the weekend homework. Subway was no longer an option, which bummed the blonde. It was probably the most healthy food in their routine.

A group of people walked in as soon as Wendy was done asking questions, on their way toward the door. However, while Maya was often described as anti-social (which she refuted - ambivert was more accurate), Wendy was addicted to socialization. Josh walked in, with the same two people he had come to her roommate's get-together with. Josh looked at Maya and his friend struck a conversation with the brunette. Cross off another fifteen minutes of free-time, Maya thought. She watched the door, ignoring Josh's gaze, as Wendy talked about - was it the teacher? Or a brand of hoodies?

"Nice to see you again," Josh spoke up. She had to turn her head; you didn't ignore his voice, especially when it was meant for you. "You finally talked in psychology," he added. Blue eyes focused. Challenge accepted although Maya assumed the challenge was either who could pay more attention to detail or to prove that he wasn't always awkward and lost.

Her head tilted. "Well, when they explain something for the thousandth time and no one bothers to shut them up..." She trailed off purposely. "I couldn't wait for you to pretend to wake up." Maya could hear his friend snicker and see Wendy watching her with interest. "Sometimes, you just have to buck up and wave away the adrenal gland adrenaline." The woman smirked and tugged on Wendy's arm. "I'm hungry, vamos." Josh and his friend said something to each other, something Maya didn't hear, as they walked away.


They saw each other rarely afterward, except the time that Maya was a few minutes late to leaving the classes they had together or Wendy needed extra help in economics. Then, Maya had two to three minutes of not Subway, but the subtle challenge of Who Can Pay More Attention To The Other? Wendy, of course, never let Maya say it was nothing. Obviously, nothing meant something. However, Maya thought it was a great distraction from the boring silence in half of her classes. Something to think on, to make scenarios about. She had a file in the back of her head about them all and a rather embarrassing amount of JM doodles on the sides of her notebook papers. It was nothing more than a distraction, she was adamant about that. No matter what Wendy said or how the TV shows on the local channel reasoned.

Wendy didn't have to drag her to gatherings by her ears and hair anymore, however. In fact, whenever Maya was putting up a fight, all Wendy had to do was announce the very real possibility of JM being there. Maya was compliant after those few words escaped to the air. Josh was rarely there, which made the comment lose their effects after a few weeks. (Wendy didn't have to use them often, just on the occasion.) Maya was tired of staying once, though, and was - shockingly - the first to suggest going out. Maya hadn't had classes all day and had been inside studying and binging her latest book. She told Wendy she was stir crazy and it only took the brunette a few seconds to go her own form of crazy. Clothes, hair, attitude, place, and time, were strictly the only conversation topics.

Against her will, Maya arrived at a sorority house with straightened hair (the most forced thing about her) and an outfit she wouldn't let Wendy get her hands on. Comfortable and relaxed, but presentable. Wendy couldn't argue. Maya didn't drink anything - not only was it the terrifying hangover, but the off-chance that Criminal Minds stories had wiggled into her paranoia - and she really only wanted the chips. Socializing was hard, considering they had arrived late enough that most people were bending over kegs or searching for a clean shirt. Maya was the least surprised by all of this. She was regretting not going to a night cafe on her own, but she'd feel guilty later about not at least inviting Wendy (who would feel worse). What surprised her most was the hour later, finding Josh alone in the corner. He was drinking, quite slowly, out of a red solo cup. Maya had heard a group of others singing about the cups in the backyard. He ran a hand through his hair, staring at his feet.

He looked more comfortable than Maya felt, despite his disappointed aura. A simple jacket over a button-up shirt and jeans. Maya skipped greeting him, instead choosing to sink in the spot next to him against the wall. She could see the entire room from there, except him. The group of couples on the couch and in the other corners of the room. The three talking and drinking together in the centre of the room. Everyone else had moved to the backyard, by the main dish of alcohol and snacks. "Hey," Josh said, his voice sounding more upbeat than his previous expression. "I didn't think you were coming."

Maya looked at him now, surprise in every fiber of her face. "You were waiting - well, looking - for me? I've been in the back for the past hour."

"Oh." He looked sheepish at that. "You don't actually like these kinds of places, do you?" He asked her abruptly. Maya felt more surprise go through her - he was being blunt, the look of hope on him. It was in his voice that he didn't like college parties, either.

Maya smiled and shook her head. "I should have gone to a library or coffee shop. And," she pointed a finger at him, "I don't care if that makes me sound boring." She figured she should put that out there, remembering the reactions of nearly everyone she had ever told. There was a peace and creativity in those places.

He straightened his posture, leaning off of the wall to fully look at her. "That's not boring at all. You know the Blue Bird Cafe down Congress?" Something had brightened his blue eyes to a baby blue. Even in the dim lighting, she could see them.

"It's my favorite, so, yeah," Maya chuckled. She hadn't pegged him for something visit the Blue Bird. It was mainly old people trying to visit their grandchildren for the first time months, or people who wanted to be on their computers somewhere other than their house. Maya, listening to his ongoing words, could vividly see him sitting in a booth with a notebook and a pen, scribbling between the lines. Maya always sat somewhere in the back by a window, using it as lighting for her sketchbook. Both of these things sparked a conversation until Wendy, nearly falling down when she walked, started shouting.

"Look at these two lovely, lovely people! Lovely people who like other lovely people, because you're both super in love-" The woman shouted, flailing her arms over Maya's shoulders. Maya cringed at her breath and grimaced at her words. "I want to go home, Maya," she whined, drawing out the blonde's name. She felt like a mom when Wendy was intoxicated, carrying a tired toddler to a car and putting her to bed.

"Yep," the blonde muttered, looking to Josh for understanding. He nodded, the faint ghost of a grin on his lips. They were pink, Maya noticed.

"I'll be at Blue Bird tomorrow at noon," he told her. Maya furrowed her brows, but he smiled broader. "In case you wanted to see where I sit." A sudden understanding came to the Hart. She would dwell on that later, but at the moment Wendy made a burping noise and slumped against her. They had to leave.


Maya would never let Wendy straighten her hair again. By morning, it was a mess of curls again, in desperate need of a wash. Which she gave them, seeing as she wanted it neat by eleven. She left the said brunette with scrambled eggs and a drink of her so-called "hangover cure". Maya's secret was a lie of a title and vegetables. The mind did wonders. Maya was gone, nothing with her but a phone and a sketchbook. It was a fat sketchbook, full of penned marks and paint streaks. Sometimes she even drew sketches from the cases in anatomy. Those, however, she kept between her and her federal fascinations.

He, the little bird of her eye, sat in a booth next to the window. (Could you call glass the size of the wall a window?) The sun came in over him, shedding a yellow over his brown hair. She was tempted to draw him, in all honesty, and her hand itched to pull a pencil from the spine of her book. Maya would never admit such a thing. She drew cadavers, not college men in cafes. "Hey," she called, sliding in front of him. He had a book in front of him - Go Ask Alice - and his eyes swung over the words effortlessly. At her words, however, they met hers in a swift rise.

He smiled. She smiled back through her unsureness. Josh glanced down at his book, sliding a piece of torn paper between the pages. "I usually read non-fiction, um, but my niece wanted to know if I thought it was real or not."

Maya looked at the cover. She'd read it years ago, about a fifteen-year-old finding the world of drugs and drug dealers. "I thought it was all fake, especially after I looked at the author. You know it's been confirmed as fiction?" Josh nodded.

"Yeah, but Riley doesn't care what everyone says. She still insists Pluto is a planet, so..." Josh trailed off with a laugh.

Maya grinned. "You don't think it is? The government can be a complete hoax, but Pluto will always be a planet." Josh raised an eyebrow. And so it begins, Maya thought with humor.