The party is winding down, and Otis and Eric sit on the terrace of Otis' house, overlooking the valley, watching the sun come up.
"First party at your house, tons of people, lasting until the morning. Otis, I'm so proud of you!" Alcohol makes Eric more elated, if such a thing is even possible.
Otis surveys the house behind them. "My mum will kill me when she gets back. It was supposed to be a small gathering to cheer me up, Eric."
"It's normal! Teens and parents! Puberty, man!" Eric laughs. Apparently alcohol also makes him talk in half sentences.
Otis gets up and walks around the table towards the house. "I'll start cleaning up, see if I can hide the worst of the mess before clients arrive." For once, he's thankful his fear of losing control means he doesn't drink alcohol. He wonders why he ever thought this was a good idea. Trying to get back some of the status he had lost with the end of the clinic? Trying to move on? Trying to forget? Whatever the reason, it looks stupid in the morning light. He grabs a bin and starts collecting the empty and half-empty bottles strewn all over the place.
"Otis, wait."
Just by Eric's changed, suddenly less elated tone, Otis can tell he's not going to like this. He stops, but doesn't turn around. "What?"
"You're not going to like this, and I should've said earlier, but... I invited Maeve to your small gathering."
That she never showed up is left unspoken. Otis squeezes his eyes shut for a second, his shoulders tense, and that tells Eric everything, tells him that Otis is hurt she didn't show up.
Otis keeps his voice perfectly level when he replies, "Well, since I didn't know you invited her, I didn't expect her, so I guess it's good you didn't tell me."
"I don't know man, seems it could have cleared the air, maybe do some good?"
Otis sighs, "I don't think there's a lot of good left to be had between Maeve and I." He's only gathered a handful of bottles, but escapes to the kitchen anyway.
Otis takes days to process the camping trip with his dad. There's a lot of baggage, and Otis doesn't really like what he's unpacking.
In his own mind, he had always been the good guy. The good guy, doing the good thing.
He had always known, on some level, that it isn't always clear what the right thing is, exactly, and that the right thing doesn't always just give everybody what they want. Even classic villains think of themselves as in the right, don't they? But that just made him proud that he didn't always make the selfish choice, that sometimes he did things that were good for most, but not for him.
Now it turned out that that wasn't always true. That, sometimes, he was the shitty guy, doing the shitty thing.
Even though he doesn't like to admit it, he realizes he should have found a more ethical way to run the clinic. Looking back, he clearly knew, felt it was wrong, even back then. He had let his desire for doing something he was good at, something that made him feel better about himself, override his own ethics. The ethics that he, as a son of two therapists, knew longer than he could remember.
He should have fought harder against Jackson's pressure, tried harder to do the right thing. He could've just told Maeve what Jackson was asking, but that hadn't even occurred to him.
He should never have started anything with Ola. He had wanted a relationship so bad, wanted to get some experience, that he hadn't really cared who it was with. Sure, he liked Ola, but there wasn't anything more than that. He should have seen that wasn't fair to Ola, to his mum and Jakob, and in the end even to himself.
He should have been more understanding of his mum, seen the stress and demands he put on her. He never talked to her anymore, treating her like she owed him care and attention, instead of treating her like she did these things out of love, and be thankful for it. It was unfair of him to demand she put her life on hold, demanding all her attention for himself.
When he sees Maeve steamrolling her opponents in the televised quiz final, he feels proud. Not proud of what he accomplished, but proud of what she's accomplishing. She's realizing her potential, despite all the obstacles, despite the entire deck of cards stacked against her, despite all the people dragging her down, and she's doing it right in front of his eyes, on live television.
He grabs his fresh perspective and the positive feelings, and calls her cell before he loses this spark again.
Eric is exuberant, all excitement and rock solid faith in a good outcome. They're riding their bikes to school, and Eric can't stop himself from babbling, going over the situation over and over again, after Otis gave him the outline of the message he left for Maeve.
"Stop worrying, Otis. It's simple! Either she'll respond badly, and you move on. Plenty more fish in the sea. Scary fish, too, because apparently that's your thing. You will remember, because I will remind you every single day, that you are sixteen and this is not the end of your life."
"Or! She'll respond well, you two will have a super romantic reunion and a beautiful kiss scene like in the movies and you'll be my beloved cupcake Otis again."
"Either way, you can stop being depressed, Otis. The hard part is over! You confessed your feelings! I'm so proud of you, man!"
She doesn't respond positively. She doesn't respond negatively, either. She doesn't respond at all. She frowns at him when she catches him staring a bit too long, but walks the other way.
After three days of gnawing radio silence, Otis catches up to her at the end of the school day.
She sighs. "Lost something, Milburn?" It's not meant as a joke. She really is tired of him.
Otis almost folds there, but has spent too long wondering to stop now. "I just figured we could talk, at least clear things up?"
"What's there to clear up? Look, I'm not angry anymore, but you still humiliated me. Nothing's changed. And I asked you not to talk to me."
Otis stays behind, crumbling inside.