Author's Notes: I hate writer's block. I hope I've managed to make this smooth enough.

Chapter 30

Day 12

Eric sat on his bike in Otis' driveway and watched as Otis and Maeve walked up the steps from the former's house.

"Oh," Eric said with a smile as they reached the top. "You stayed last night, Maeve."

"Yes, I did, Eric," Maeve said, neutrally.

"And may I presume you and Otis spent the night in close proximity?"

"That is so totally an inappropriate question, Eric," Otis protested as he began unlocking his current bike which was chained to the fence beside his old bike.

"You can presume whatever you like, Eric," Maeve said, neutrally.

"There seems to be a certain shared glow between the two of you and a sense of mellowness about you. May I presume—"

"No, you may not, Eric," Otis snapped.

"Well, that's not mellow," Eric said.

"No, Eric," Maeve said, suppressing a smile. "We didn't."

"Don't encourage him," Otis protested as he straddled his bike and waited.

"You two are so disappointing," Eric muttered as he turned his bike around.

Maeve clambered onto the back of Otis' bike and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Tell you what, Eric. When we have sex, we'll hang a banner out the front of the school and have it broadcast over the P.A."

Otis and Eric started to pedal in unison and headed along the driveway.

"No, we'll send you a selfie," Maeve said as if she had a better idea. "You won't mind seeing my boobs, will you? You don't mind if we show Eric my boobs after we do it, do you?" she asked Otis.

"Will you stop encouraging him?" Otis said.

"You are mean," Eric said with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Come at the Queen, you best not miss," Maeve said.

"I know you're not scary," Eric said. "You're just pretending."

"Say that again and I'll go medieval on your ass," Maeve said with a smirk.

"Whose bike was that?" Eric asked. "One of Jean's clients?"

"That's my old bike, remember?" Otis pointed out. "I fixed it up for Maeve to use."

"You're coming riding with us?" Eric asked, pleased.

"Sometimes," Maeve said. "You don't mind?"

"Noooo," Eric said, as if it was a stupid question. "So how come you're not riding it now?"

"Aimee's coming over to my place this afternoon and I don't really have the space to store it in the caravan, so I'd have to ride it back here and then go home. Too much hassle."

"Are we going biking this weekend?" Eric asked Otis.

"Yeah, we can go on Sunday," Otis said. "We're not leaving until Monday night."

"Can we go out to Canney Vale?" Eric asked, hopefully.

"I want to stick to the easy trails until Maeve gets used to riding," Otis said.

"I'll be fine, muppet," Maeve said.

"You haven't had a stack yet," Otis said.

Eric glanced across at Maeve's legs.

"You need to wear something to cover those knees," Eric said.

"Why?" Maeve asked, glancing down at her knees, puzzled.

"You'll know when you have a stack," Otis said.

"So have you bought your Christmas presents yet?" Eric asked.

"That's ages away," Otis said, dismissively.

"It's only just over a week, muppet," Maeve murmured, concerned.

"That's ages," Otis agreed. "A week is a long time."

"True," Eric said. "Look what's happened between you two in a week."

"Eleven days," Maeve and Otis said in unison.

Otis and Eric slowed their pedalling as they approached the bike racks at the front of the school.

"Oh, look," came Ruby's voice from behind them. "The school bike on a bike."

Maeve raised her finger at the car carrying the Untouchables as it moved past them.

Otis pressed his lips firmly together and stopped his bike and put his feet down to steady it while Maeve dismounted.

Eric stopped his own bike and glanced sympathetically at Maeve.

"You keep looking at me like that and I will poke your eyes out," she said without looking directly at him.

Eric startled then dismounted his bike and joined Otis in locking their bikes into the bike rack.

When they finished, they walked over to Maeve and she held out her helmet to Otis. He stared directly into her eyes, holding himself back from saying anything then took it from her and placed it into his bag.

"Now," Eric began with forced cheerfulness. "Since this is your first day back and I have had experience in The Walk Of The Ashamed Returning To The Place Of Their Shame—"

"I'm not ashamed," Maeve said.

"I was," Eric said, gloomily. "I thought hitting Anwar would make me feel better, but it didn't."

"That's because it's not you. Hitting people," Maeve said. "It should have been me. He deserved it. I would have gone all Rambo on him and when he was down, I would have said—" She gave a vague impersonation of Sylvester Stallone – 'That's for you, Adrian.'"

"That was Rocky," Otis said.

"Whatever," said Maeve, then waved her hand at Otis. "And I know. No violence."

"I think my girlfriend's a psychopath," Otis said to Eric.

Maeve gave him the finger then turned to Eric. "So what did you do in your Walk Of The Ashamed?"

"Walked straight. Head held high. Did not look anyone in the eye and ignored all the whispering."

"So, what I've been doing for the last four years?" Maeve asked, blandly.

"Maybe I should have asked you what to do," Eric said, ruefully.

"Give them the finger," Maeve said then put her arm through Otis'. "Come on. Escort me through my Walk Of The Ashamed."

They started walking arm-in-arm toward the school entrance.

Maeve glanced across at Eric as he walked some distance beside them. She held out her hand, beckoning him to join them.

He looked at her, warily puzzled.

"He's making me fucking soft," Maeve said, waving her hand insistently.

Eric stepped closer and she put her arm through his and the trio walked through the school entrance together.

"Would you hurt me if I said I liked you like this?" Eric asked, cautiously.

"I'll shove your balls up your arse and pull them out through your nostrils," Maeve said blandly.

Otis leant against the locker beside Maeve's, watching her as she transferred most of the contents of her bag into it.

"Will you stop fucking looking at me like that?" she snarled, blushing.

Otis didn't stop looking at her like that.

"Love makes you stupid, alright?" she snapped. "Isn't that what the studies say?"

Otis still kept looking at her like that.

Maeve slammed the locker door shut and turned to face him directly. "Keep that up and I will bite it, okay?"

Otis looked away, pressing his lips together to supress his chuckle.

Maeve punched him in the arm, scrunching her face.

"I think you made Eric's day," Otis said, rubbing his arm. "Walking into school arm-in-arm with the coolest girl at Moordale."

Maeve snorted. "That's two people who think that I'm cool."

"No, I think… when we started the clinic, I think Eric felt really excluded from us. And I think that made him feel included."

"I wish there was someone we could introduce him to," Maeve sighed.

"It's difficult when there's only two gay guys at school and one of them is Anwar."

"There's more than two gay guys at Moordale," Maeve said.

Otis looked at her, quizzically.

"Nope. Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "If they're not out, I'm not doing it."

"How do you know so much about the people at school?"

Maeve shrugged. "I pay attention. It's easy when you're on the edge."

"I was on the edge. I never noticed a tenth of the things you have."

"You're a man," Maeve smirked. "Men never pay attention."

"I'm sorry, were you saying something?"

Ruby walked past them. "Are you making your way through all the tripods, Wiley?" she asked, haughtily sneering.

Maeve gave her the finger then noticed Otis' reaction.

"Ignore her," she murmured.

The first bell rang.

Maeve sighed. "I've got to go see Groff. Get the lecture about being a good girl again."

"Do you have detention like Eric has? Was supposed to have?"

"Oh, shit, I hope not," Maeve said.

Otis noticed the people around them starting to move toward their respective classes.

"I'll see you in English," he said.

"Okay," Maeve said and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Oh shit. Sorry. PDA."

"We've already done PDA," Otis said and gave her a quick kiss on the lips in return.

She ran her hand down his arm – "Sorry about the punch." – and walked along the corridor in the direction of the Principal's Office.

"Brendan Smith just broke up with Talia Willoughby," Ruby sneered as Maeve walked past her. "He can be next on your list, if you hurry."

Without looking around, Maeve gave her a desultory finger.

Otis glared at Ruby for a moment, turned away, turned back, then turned away again and walked along the corridor, shoulders tense.

Miss Sands stood in front of her class facing the blackboard and asked over her shoulder, "So what are the three defining characteristics of Abigail?"

"Courage," someone said.

"Courage," Miss Sands repeated and wrote the word on the blackboard.

"Compassion," someone else said.

"Compassion," Miss Sands repeated and wrote the word on the blackboard.

"Big tits," said Jordan.

"Mr Groff, Jordan," Miss Sands said, wearily.

Smugly, accompanied by a chorus of good-natured jeers from his peers, Jordan grabbed his bag and swaggered from the room.

Miss Sands glanced at his retreating form then faced the room and recoiled at the sight of Otis and Maeve sitting at the back of the classroom, lips locked.

"Ahem," she said. "Maeve. Otis."

Otis and Maeve broke apart and looked toward the front of the room, startled, blushing.

"Would you care to come up front and present to the class the scene you were rehearsing?" Miss Sands asked. "What's that scene from, by the way? Romeo and Juliet?"

"A Connecticut Yankee In King Arthur's Court," Maeve said.

Miss Sands did not look amused as she asked, "Do you know what the third defining characteristic of Abigail is, Maeve?"

"Curiosity. About people. About things. About ideas. She's constantly querying everything she comes across and using whatever she learns to benefit both herself and her friends."

"Very good," Miss Sands said, lips twitching as she turned to write 'Curiosity' on the blackboard.

The bell rang and the class began rising to their feet and filing from the room.

"Remember, the essay is due on Wednesday before the exam," Miss Sands said then looked at Maeve and Otis as they approached the front of the classroom. "Can you stay behind, please, Maeve?"

Otis and Maeve glanced at each other and Maeve murmured, "I'll see you outside."

Otis leaned against the wall outside the classroom, staring at the ground, patiently waiting.

"Hey," Aimee said.

Otis looked up, startled, to see the girl standing before him, smiling brightly.

"Hi," Otis said.

"Why are you holding up the wall?" Aimee asked.

"Maeve's talking to Miss Sands," Otis said. "We were… um… kissing in class. I don't think she liked that."

"She's just jealous," Aimee said, dismissively. "She needs to get laid."

"That… that's… I'm surprised you said that."

"How do you think you went in the maths test?" Aimee asked.

Otis held up both hands, fingers crossed.

"That last question was really hard, wasn't it?" Aimee asked.

"Yeah," Otis agreed. 'I think I got it, though. Maeve helped tutor me yesterday and it was similar to a question she went through with me."

"Maeve tutored you?"

"Yeah. I paid her," he clarified.

"She doesn't like charity," Aimee cautioned.

"It's not charity. It's paying her for being a tutor."

"How much?" Aimee asked, intrigued.

"Half of a clinic session."

"Yeah, I can pay that."

"Great," Otis said, happily. "So I can tell her you'll be her second client?"

"I can tell her myself," Aimee said, punching him playfully in the arm. "Dope."

"Oh, yeah," Otis said, rubbing his arm.

"Are you buying her anything for Christmas?"

"Of course," Otis said.

"Don't spend too much. It embarrasses her."

"She already told me not to go stupid for her birthday. I figured it would be the same for Christmas."

"I just get her little things."

"What things?"

"I bought her earrings once with little M's. Bought her a really nice top that she had her eyes on. They weren't expensive."

"Does she…" his voice trailed away.

"What?"

"Doesn't matter," Otis murmured.

Maeve stepped out of the classroom carrying a large envelope.

"Are we in trouble?" Otis asked, concerned.

"What for?" Maeve asked, puzzled.

Otis waved his fingers in front of his mouth.

"She doesn't care about that," Maeve said dismissively and held up the envelope. "Congratulate me. I'm the newest member of the Mooredale High Aptitude Scheme."

Maeve and Otis sat at a bench in the study room, paperwork spread before them.

"She was checking you out," Maeve asserted. "Seeing if you had another boner."

"That's just wrong," Otis said.

"You said you wanted better marks."

"I'm sixteen and there's an inherent imbalance between pupil and teacher—"

"Ask her if she wants to go into the book cupboard and it's a guaranteed 'A'."

Otis turned his attention to the paperwork. "God, there's so much of it," he said.

Maeve smirked and picked up a piece of paper. "I don't think she even realised she did it."

"Does this mean you get a study benefit?" Otis asked.

Maeve studied the paper he was holding. "I think so," Maeve said, reading further. She grunted. "It's not much but it's something."

"Sponsored by The Edmund Holt Organisation," Otis read. "What's that?"

Maeve shrugged. "I dunno."

"What's this?" Otis asked, picking up a bound cluster of papers.

"Miss Sands says that's the work for the first week."

"Fucking hell," Otis said. "That's a shitload."

"I think I'm a bad influence on you, muppet," Maeve said, smirking.

"'Where do you see yourself in ten years' time?'" Otis read.

"Jeez. I don't know," Maeve said.

"It says that's the assignment for the first class?" he finished, surprised. "They're giving you homework before you even started?"

"They're going to push us," Maeve murmured.

"I hope you've been checked out, Wiley," Ruby said from nearby.

Maeve and Otis looked up, startled, to see Ruby standing at the end of the bench, smirking at them.

"Don't want you spreading anything around once you've finished with them," Ruby sneered and walked to the opposite side of the room to join Olivia and Anwar who were sitting in the good corner.

Maeve pressed her lips together and turned back to the paperwork, trying to focus on the page in her hand. She sensed the tension in Otis beside her, heard his heavy breathing, noticed the motion out of the corner of her eye as his legs swung away from and then back toward the bench.

"Just leave it," she murmured.

Maeve, Otis, Steve, Aimee and Eric were sitting at a table in the canteen. Aimee watched Eric open his lunch container.

"What's that, Eric?" she asked.

"Chicken fettucini parmesan," Eric said.

"Smells nice," Aimee said.

"Do you want some?" Eric said, holding the container out to her.

"Oh, ta," Aimee said and picked up her fork and dipped it into the container and twisted it to wrap the fettucini around it.

And twisted it more.

And more.

Maeve smiled fondly at her friend's concentration then turned back to Steve.

"I didn't realise you were part of the scheme," she said to him.

"It's hard," he said. "But I'm really enjoying it."

"It looks like a lot for the first week," Otis said.

"I decided not to look at it until the break," Steve said. "I don't want to stress myself."

"What are the others in the scheme like?" Maeve asked.

"They're nice. Viv. She's really nice. She's the smartest of the lot of us. And she's very focussed. She's the head of the Quiz Heads."

"She gave that talk about the Primary Methods of Keeping Your Hamster Happy, didn't she?" Aimee asked, distracted.

"That was Lily," Steve said.

"It was disturbingly sexual," said Otis.

"Finally," Aimee said. "I thought it was never going to finish." She put the large portion of fettucini on her plate. "Do you want some of my beef burgundy?" she asked, plaintively.

"Yes, please," Eric said.

"I'll have to take it with us," Maeve said to Otis. "Do some up there."

"You're going somewhere?" Steve asked.

"Otis and his mum have asked me to go to London with them for Christmas," Maeve said.

"You're going on a romantic holiday already?" Aimee asked, excited.

"It's just to my Gramps," Otis said. "Not a romantic—"

"It'll be romantic, muppet," Maeve said.

"I wonder how romantic," Eric murmured.

"Eric," Otis sighed, then noticed Ruby stopping by their table, tray in her hand.

"Are you trying to improve your social status by latching onto-" Ruby began.

Otis abruptly rose to his feet, body quivering with anger. "Will you stop it?" he hissed.

Ruby took a step back, startled.

Otis kept his voice low as he hissed, "Maeve helped you. She didn't have to but she helped you because she didn't think even you deserved to be humiliated like that. She didn't take your money and she stood up for you in assembly and you're still being a… bitch to her."

"I don't need to listen to this," Ruby said, shocked at his audacity.

"No, you don't," Otis said as she stepped around him. "But it'd be nice if you could be a decent person for once," he called after her.

He sat down, staring at the tabletop directly in front of himself, ignoring the gazes of the people at nearby tables he could see out of the corner of his eye.

Maeve gently rubbed his shoulder. "My hero," she murmured, mock-sarcasm concealing her sincerity.

"I'm sorry," he murmured to Maeve, ashamed.

"That was so romantic, Otis," Aimee said, breathlessly. "I think you're the first person who ever stood up to Ruby like that."

"Second," Maeve murmured.

"What?" Aimee asked, confused.

"You, Aimes," Maeve said.

"Oh, yeah," Aimee said, remembering, pleased.

"Well, Ruby created that situation," Steve said, quietly. "If she hadn't been mean…"

Maeve looked at him in disbelief. "Where the hell has this Steve come from?"

"I don't like people being unkind to my friends," Steve said.

Maeve and Otis sat on the bench overlooking their wall.

"It was really easy," Otis said. "I told him I could give him an explanation of the reasons for the varying… flavours… but the simplest thing to do was eat more pineapple."

"Kimchi?" Maeve asked.

"Yeah," Otis said.

"His cum tasted like kimchi?"

"That's what he said his girlfriend said."

Maeve was silent for a moment. "Kumchi. His cum is kumchi."

Otis chuckled.

"What is kimchi?" Maeve asked.

"Something with a flavour that wasn't suitable for his girlfriend's palate."

"So it felt okay?" Maeve asked, voice tinged with a hint of concern. "Your first clinic session back?"

"Yeah," Otis said. "That's the sort of advice I have no problems with."

"Good," Maeve murmured.

"I didn't ask about whether he needed your services."

"That's not a good way to express it, muppet," Maeve said, amused.

"What?" Otis asked, frowning, then realised. "Sorry."

"Just ask them if they need a tutor in any subject. Let them know someone may be able to help."

"I'll mention it in the follow-up session."

"Hey," Aimee said from behind them.

"Hi, Aimes," Maeve said as Aimee reached them and sat on the bench beside Otis.

"Hi, Aimee," Otis said.

"So did you poke your nose in and do the girlfriend booster bit?" Maeve asked.

"Yeah," Aimee said. "Steve let me try to lift one of the weights. They're really heavy. He's really strong."

"Hey," Maeve said. "Have you ever had a guy whose cum tasted like kimchi?"

"What's kimchi?" Aimee asked.

"Dunno," Maeve said. "Must be something with a really strong flavour."

"I had one guy whose cum tasted like pickled gherkins," Aimee said.

"Ugh," Maeve shuddered.

"Steve tastes like cinnamon," Aimee said.

"Okay," said Otis, turning red and getting to his feet. "I'll leave you two to it. Eric must be finished band practice by now."

"I think that's the sort of thing you're supposed to tell me when Otis isn't around," Maeve said, smirking.

"Call you tonight?" Otis asked, still blushing.

"Yeah. Probably can't talk long," Maeve said, apologetically. "I really need to get on with the essay for English."

"Okay," Otis said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Aimee," he continued without looking at her.

"Uh-huh," Aimee said and watched him walk away. "He is so cute when he's embarrassed."

"Steve's cute when you embarrass him," Maeve said.

"Yeah, but he doesn't go that red."

Otis lay on his bed, laptop on his stomach and phone to his ear.

"It's a Korean dish made by fermenting cabbage and carrots in a tangy, spicy sauce," he said.

"Sounds a bit too much for me," Maeve said from the other end of the phone.

"Yeah, if he's tasting spicy…" Otis said, dubiously.

"I don't mind a bit of spicy stuff but too much is too much."

"'Too much is too much'. I keep telling you, Maeve, you're an incredible writer with a breathtaking turn of phrase."

"Fuck off," Maeve said, giggling.

"So what's the worst thing you've ever tasted? Foodwise, I mean. Not… cumwise."

"Ohh," Maeve said, pondering. "Worst thing I've ever tasted?"

"Pop made some haggis for us once. That was awful."

"Corn in white sauce," Maeve said, remembering. "Mum used to make corn in white sauce for us when we were really broke and… ugh, that was horrible."

"Oh, I don't mind that," Otis said.

"I don't know if she put anything else in it to enhance the flavour but… yuk. Last time I ate it I was sick all over the table so mum never made me eat corn again."

"We've eaten corn," Otis said, puzzled.

"I can eat corn now. I was six when that happened. Still not my favourite taste."

"I don't like liver," Otis said. "Gramps used to make liver and bacon in onion gravy every time we went there but mum managed to finally convince him just to cook the bacon for me. Because I had a 'delicate stomach'."

Maeve was silent for a moment then said, "Aimee asked me if I'd tutor her in chem. Your idea?"

"I mentioned you tutored me in maths. She thought that was a good idea."

Maeve grunted softly.

"It really helped me," Otis said. "I don't think I would have got the last question in the test today if you hadn't gone through that stuff with me yesterday."

"It's just… you're my friends…"

"And you're giving up your time for us when you could be doing something you really wanted to do."

"What if what I really want to do is help my friends?"

Otis was silent for a moment then sighed softly, "I'm sorry, Maeve. I never meant—"

"I know," Maeve sighed. "I'm sorry—"

"No, Maeve," Otis protested. "Don't apologise."

"Sorry, muppet. I think I'm going to have to go. Get back to the essay. Forget I said anything. Thanks."

"Maeve," Otis said.

Maeve was silent.

"Let's talk about it tomorrow. Okay?" Otis said.

"You been studying for your biology on Thursday?" Maeve asked.

"I was thinking perhaps I would do an in-depth study of biology on Wednesday night. After the movie."

"Will you need any help with that?"

"I think your assistance would be greatly appreciated."

"I'm not charging you for that one. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, babe," Maeve said.

"Babe?"

"Yeah, I'm not really Aimee, am I?"

"I love you, sugar," Otis said.

"You make me snap, crackle and pop," Maeve said.

"What?" Otis chuckled.

"That was awful, wasn't it?"

"Making you soft, Wiley," Otis said, grinning.

"See you tomorrow, muppet," Maeve said and ended the call.

Day 13

Maeve leaned against the lockers and watched as Aimee transferred items from her bag.

"I don't mind, babe," Aimee said.

"It just feels like fucking charity," Maeve said.

"It's not," Aimee said.

"Then how come you never offered to pay me before when I helped you?" Maeve asked.

"You weren't a tutor, then. Now, you're a tutor."

Maeve snorted.

"You'd do the same for us if things were switched," Aimee said.

"Nah, fuck youse. Deal with your own shit," Maeve said, giving a soft smile to her friend.

Aimee closed her locker and turned to Maeve, beaming. "Are we having an argument, babe?"

"No," Maeve sighed.

"Awww," Aimee said, disappointed.

Maeve smiled. "Okay, if you want. It's an argument."

Aimee grinned momentarily, pleased, then sighed silently as she took in all of her friend's mood.

"We just want to help you, babe," Aimee said, gently. "We like you. It's not your fault Sean isn't here to help."

"I know," Maeve sighed.

"Besides, you can pay us back when you're a bigshot."

"What?" Maeve asked, confused.

"Otis said you were going to write a book."

"He said what?"

"He said you were writing a book."

"I'mnotwritingabook."

"He said you were."

"Fuck," Maeve sighed. "Muppet," she groaned, sounding as if she could strangle him.

"Here he is. Ask him," Aimee said.

Otis and Eric stopped beside the two girls.

"Good morning, girlfriends," Eric said.

"Morning, Eric," Aimee said.

"Good morning," Otis said, leaning in to give Maeve a kiss.

Maeve drew her head back and glared softly at him.

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

"Why did you tell Aimee I was writing a book?" Maeve asked, annoyed.

"I said I suggested you write a book."

"Oh, I thought you meant she was going to do it," Aimee said, plaintively.

"What's…?" Otis asked, confused.

"She thinks we're treating her as a charity case. For paying her to tutor us," Aimee said.

"Oh, Maeve…" Otis sighed.

"Are you tutoring?" Eric asked, pleased. "I need help in biology. I can pay. Only not too much, 'cause I think I need a lot of help."

Otis took Maeve's hand gently. "If you don't want to take the money, I won't offer you money. But I still would like your help."

Maeve looked down at his hand then turned to Eric. "Do you need help before the test on Thursday?"

"Uh-huh," Eric said.

"This afternoon? Your place?"

"Great," Eric said and hurried to his locker.

"I'll see you later, babe," Aimee said and gently ran her hand across Maeve's shoulder and smiled at Otis as she walked away.

"I'm sorry, Maeve," Otis said, gently. "I never meant to make you feel this way."

"I know," Maeve sighed.

"You can pay me back if you want."

"No,' Maeve murmured. "You're just trying to help. It just fucking sucks that I need it."

Maeve and Otis sat on their bench overlooking the wall, staring at the cows in the pasture beyond.

"Are you getting Eric a present?" Maeve eventually asked.

"Yeah," Otis said.

"Should I get him one?" she asked and Otis sensed the undertone in her voice.

"You don't have to. Just go shares with me," Otis said.

"What are you getting him?"

"I don't know yet," Otis said.

"Are you one of those who leaves presents 'til the last minute?"

"It's so I don't overthink it," Otis admitted, sheepishly. "One year I bought him something in June. Then I had second thoughts about whether he'd like it and bought him something else in September. Then I bought him something else in December and I still couldn't decide which one to give him so I gave him all three. I think I embarrassed him. His parents thought I was his boyfriend."

"He was embarrassed by you being mistaken for his boyfriend?" Maeve asked, surprised.

"He said he had better taste than that," Otis said, amused.

"Eric said that?"

"He really doesn't realise what he's saying sometimes. I wasn't offended. It's just Eric."

They settled into silence for a moment, enjoying the pleasure of each other's presence.

"Do you really think I could write a book?" Maeve eventually asked, uncertainly.

"Of course you could," Otis said, pleased she was considering the idea.

"What could I write about?"

"They say, write what you know."

"How To Bite A Cock In One Easy Lesson."

"101 Ways Of Dealing With Dickheads."

Maeve pondered for a moment, then murmured, "Learning To Trust. Learning To Love."

Otis glanced down at her, startled.

She shrugged without looking at him.

Otis gently put his arm around her.

"How The Lion Met The Kangaroo," he said.

"We could do an advice column in the Southclyde paper," Maeve said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"What?"

"Sex advice. Relationship advice. You get the clients. I'll turn your case notes into a column."

"I don't actually write notes."

"I'll debrief you orally," she said, softly smirking.

"I don't want my name associated outside school with anything related to the clinic. I don't want mum to see it."

"We can use a pen name. The Teen Whisperer. Isn't that what Eric called you?"

"The clients will recognise their cases. I don't think they'll be happy."

"I'll disguise their issues. I'm really good at that."

"If you disguise the issue, how are you going to help people with an answer?"

Maeve thought for a moment. "Dear Teen Whisperer. My girlfriend kissed me and now I get a raging boner everywhere, even in school assembly." She paused for a moment then continued with a poshly formal tone. "Sexual arousal has the ability to occur during moments that would otherwise not seem to be conducive to the erotic impulse however a recent study has shown that arousal can be triggered when we make seemingly unconnected associations with the object of our amorous desire."

"What unconnected associations?" Otis asked.

"Our presence in a non-sexual gathering of our peers during which the aroma of brie cheese wafts across our senses could trigger a ginormous hard-on since we associate the fragrance of brie with the hot horny babe who was eating brie canapes in a manner that would likely be considered illegal in public in less-enlightened times."

"I still don't know why brie gave me a boner," Otis said. "I can't remember you ever eating brie."

"Maybe it wasn't me."

"And it definitely wasn't brie that caused it at the assembly."

"What was it?"

"Jackson."

"What?" asked Maeve, startled.

"He was talking about the swimming trials and that made me think of the pool and that made me think of us in the pool."

"You've been thinking about it a lot, haven't you?"

"I was trying to figure out what triggered them so they wouldn't… trigger."

"I mean, us in the pool."

"A little," Otis said, sheepishly.

"Reality or fantasy?"

"A bit of both."

"We could write a story about us in the pool. He said she said. Get it published in The Moordale Rag. A light-hearted look at the perils of miscommunication when the dickhead with the boner doesn't realise that the girl shoving her boobs into his face is really into him. Let people take a look at our fiction."

"Our fiction?"

Maeve snuggled closer against him. "You can be part of my writing explicitly, too."

Otis smiled at her and gave her hair a quick kiss then looked at his watch.

"What time did you tell him the appointment was?" he asked.

Otis sat at a table in the study room, staring at a necklace in his hand as Aimee and Steve sat opposite him, watching.

"That's beautiful," Otis breathed.

"I think she'll like it," Aimee said.

"I think she'll love it," Otis said.

"So you'll give it to her?" Aimee asked.

"Why don't you give it to her before we leave?"

"It's not Christmas Day," Aimee protested. "I always give her her present on Christmas Day."

"We're going to wrap it really nice," Steve said.

Otis handed the necklace back to Aimee who placed it in its case.

"Don't you want to see her face when she opens it?" Otis asked.

"Take a video," Aimee said and handed the case to Steve who put it in the inside pocket of his jacket then noticed something across the room.

"Ruby keeps glaring at you," Steve said quietly.

Otis noticed the direction of Steve's gaze and frowned and looked around in time to see Ruby turn rapidly away to pretend to listen to Anwar expound on something as a bored Olivia blew a bubble.

"I kind of feel bad about yesterday," Otis said, turning back to Steve and Aimee. "I don't do that. I just hope nobody heard what I was saying and made the connection."

"She's a cow," Aimee said. "She deserved it."

"It's not as if you planned it," Steve said. "I was as surprised as any of us when you leapt to your feet. It was zero to six hundred in half a second."

"She'd been pissing me off all morning," Otis said. "The way she was talking to Maeve. It was Maeve's first day back. She shouldn't have had to put up with that. I mean, nobody should have to put up with that. I thought… I thought she would have changed."

"Miss Sands was really proud of you," Aimee said.

"She said something?" Otis asked, surprised.

"She was looking at you, frowning her disapproval," Steve said. "But you could see she was trying to keep herself from cheering."

"She still needs to get laid," Aimee said.

"Who needs to get laid?" Maeve asked as she sat down.

"Miss Sands," Aimee said.

'That's not nice, Aimee," Maeve said with mock reproval.

Aimee shrugged, smirking at her.

"How did you go?" Otis asked.

"I've handed it in. Now I just have to wait to see if I'm eligible," Maeve said.

"You will be," Otis said.

"Eligible for what?" Aimee asked.

"Study grant," Maeve said. "For the Aptitude Scheme."

"Is that from The Edmund Holt Organisation?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Maeve said.

"I get that," Steve said. "Couldn't afford all my textbooks if I didn't."

"It's going to make it easier for me if I get it," Maeve said.

"You will," Otis said.

"Is he one of the Holts?" Aimee asked.

"That's his name, Aimes," Maeve said, gently.

"No," Aimee said, waving her hand impatiently. "The Holts. Next to the vineyard."

"Don't know," Maeve said.

"He must have gone to Moordale," Aimee said.

"Why does he have an organisation?" Otis asked. "What does it do?"

"I don't know," Aimee said. "I think he had dinner with us once. Something dad was involved in."

"Must be a bigshot," Maeve said then stopped as she saw Jackson step into the study room. Their eyes met for a moment then Jackson turned and exited the room and walked along the corridor, not looking back.

Otis noticed Maeve drop her head.

"Something wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"No," Maeve said, shaking her head. "Just saw Jackson," she amended.

"Have you spoken with him?" Otis asked after a moment.

"I don't think he wants anything to do with me," Maeve said.

Maeve clung to Eric as he manoeuvred his bike between the trees that concluded his preferred shortcut home.

"Are you going to start riding with us to school?" Eric asked.

"If I stay at Otis' place," Maeve said, "and I don't have anything on in the afternoon. Probably Thursdays. Jean's invited me to come over for movie nights."

"Jean's invited you over for movie nights?" Eric squealed, excitedly surprised.

"Yeah? Why?"

"She really likes you."

"I like her. She's nice."

"No. She really likes you. That's her special time with Otis. She only invites people she really likes to movie nights."

"You've been?"

"Yeah," Eric said.

"Anybody else?"

"We used to hang around with Morton Dunstan for a bit. Do you know him?"

"Yeah," Maeve said, grimly.

"He was never invited to movie nights," Eric said as he slowed his bike.

"Well, he's a dickhead," Maeve said.

Eric stopped the bike in front of his house. "My dwelling," he said with a flourish.

"It's nice," Maeve said as she dismounted the bike and studied the house. "Have you lived here long?"

"Since we moved here," Eric said as he wheeled his bike over to its resting place.

"Eight years," Maeve murmured.

"How did you know that?" Eric asked as he padlocked the bike to a post placed there for just that purpose.

"Otis said he met you when you were nine."

"It's nearly eight years," Eric said, rising to his feet.

"I've never stayed in the one place for eight years," Maeve said.

"So has Jean tried to therapize you yet?" Eric asked.

"We've talked," Maeve said.

"She's really good to talk to," Eric said. "And she doesn't tell anything."

"Otis has a different opinion about that," Maeve said, wryly.

"When I was first thinking of coming out, I talked to her," Eric said, quietly. "Said I was a little worried that Otis… might not want to be my friend anymore. He did. He didn't have any problems," he assured her. "I told him I'd spoken to Jean later on but Jean never said anything to him. He never had a clue. I don't think he realises how fantastic she is."

"He does," Maeve murmured.

Eric turned to face his house.

"Now," he began. "My room is to the right when we get to the top of the stairs. When we go in, walk straight, hold your head high, do not look anyone in the eye and ignore all the whispering."

"What?" Maeve asked, confused.

"I told you," Eric said. "I have four sisters."

They began walking toward the house and Eric asked, hesitantly, "It was Ruby, wasn't it?"

"What?"

"In the photo."

Maeve was silent for a moment then said, "I can neither confirm nor deny it was Ruby's vagina in the photo."

"You are really kind," Eric said, wonderingly.

"Fuck off," Maeve said with a smirk.

Otis sat in the most comfortable loungechair in his therapist's consulting room, staring at the floor.

"I was in my bedroom and I heard noises," he said, quietly. "Mum yelling. I couldn't hear dad." He was silent for a moment. "His voice doesn't carry."

"How did that make you feel?" Maria asked.

"Scared. I mean, mum yelled at me when I was being a brat but… this was different. It was a different tone. I didn't know who she was yelling at."

"You'd never heard her yell like that before?" Maria asked.

Otis shook his head. "No."

"What did you do?"

"I sat there. Listening. Then I couldn't sit there anymore and I got up and I went out. That's when I heard dad's voice. Really low. He wasn't yelling."

"Do you remember what they were saying?"

Otis thought for a moment. "Dad was saying, 'Why are you always so dramatic?' and mum said, 'You put your cock in her.' Dad said she was a crazy woman and mum said he made her a crazy woman. Then she threw a glass at him. She didn't hit him," he quickly clarified.

"How did that make you feel?"

Otis was silent for a moment then said, "Terrified. Ashamed."

"Why ashamed?"

"I knew what a cock was so I knew mum was talking about what I told her. So I knew it was my fault they were arguing."

Maria seemed about to say something then changed her mind, waiting.

"I always knew," Otis said, quietly.

"There were lots of arguments after that?" Maria asked quietly.

Otis nodded. "They seemed to be always arguing after that. It was always mum I heard first."

"Did they know you were watching them?"

Otis shook his head. "No. Once," he amended. "We were having dinner and dad said there was too much gristle in his steak and mum just flung her steak at him and told him to… fucking eat that... and then she stormed out to the balcony for a cigarette. Marijuana, not tobacco," he clarified.

Maria remained silent as Otis reflected on the memories.

"I just sat there," he continued softly. "Couldn't eat any more. Dad asked me if I was full and I said 'yes' and then he told me I could take my dessert to my room and eat it there. It was my treat for being a good boy, he said."

Maria gently watched Otis for a moment then quietly asked, "How long did the arguing go on?"

"About two months. And then dad… wasn't living with us any longer. They still argued… whenever they had to see each other. That's when dad started getting worse."

"In what way?"

"He started yelling when he'd come over to… collect things… argue about things. He called her names. Called her a…" He hesitated. "Self-righteous cunt. I didn't know what the word meant but I knew it was bad because mum started to cry. She tried to stop herself but…"

Otis wiped a tear away.

"I don't like that word," he murmured.

Maeve curled up next to Otis on the lounge in the caravan park, her hand resting gently on his arm. He stared at his feet resting on the coffee table and she studied him tenderly.

"I'm so proud of you," she said, gently. "For what that's worth."

Otis nodded acknowledgement.

"I know it wasn't easy. Telling her then telling me," Maeve said.

"I had to," Otis murmured.

"If you don't want to… if it's too much… you don't have to tell me."

She noticed him flinch a little and realised.

"I don't mean…," she began. "It's not that I don't want to hear. If you want to share it with me, I'm here to listen. But I don't want you putting yourself through this twice in one day if it's too much. Just let me know you're okay."

"It helps. Telling you, too," he said, gently looking at her. "It's like a condensed summary the second time. The important bits. But I don't want to burden you. You've got—"

"It's not a burden," Maeve murmured.

"Thank you," he said, almost too quietly for Maeve to hear.

"Are you going to be seeing her again before we go to London?"

Otis nodded. "She's agreed to see me again on Thursday. Somebody cancelled."

"It does make it easier, doesn't it?" she asked, quietly. "Talking?"

"It's tiring. I feel drained."

"But it does make it better? Not holding onto that?"

Otis was silent for a moment then said, "Yeah," before adding, wryly, "But I probably didn't have to tell you about pissing the bed. I could have lived without you knowing that."

"Oh, who gives a fuck about you pissing the bed?" Maeve said, dismissively. "You were four. You were stressed out. Your parents were scaring the piss out of you."

Otis gave a small amused snort.

Maeve realised what she had said. "That was an accident," she said, sheepishly.

"Mum started to think I was doing it deliberately."

"Were you?" Maeve asked, quietly.

"I don't know. At least I stopped when I went to school."

Maeve was silent for a while then said, sheepishly, "I pissed on the next door neighbour's cat when I was three."

"What did the cat do to you?" Otis asked, surprised.

"I didn't know it was there."

Otis rested his head against hers.

"At least I can laugh about some of it," he murmured.

"That's good, isn't it?" Maeve said quietly. "Like cock-biter. It felt a little better when you let me laugh about it."

"I wish all pain could be reduced to laughter."

Maeve snuggled closer against him and gently lay her hand upon his.

"What time do you have to leave?" she asked.

"A little while," he said. "But do you mind if we don't do anything?"

"No," Maeve murmured.

"I just want to sit here."

"That's fine."

"Maybe tomorrow night."

"Mmmmm," Maeve murmured.

"We're going shopping, remember? You can get non-perishables so you don't have to worry when we get back."

"Okay," she said softly.

They were silent for a while, listening to the soft sounds of life outside the caraven, then Maeve murmured, "Do you think I should find someone to talk to?"

Author's Notes: Thank you for coming on this journey with me so far.

I've had Otis' words to Ruby in mind for over a year so I'm glad I was able to finally get them in.