"everyone calls her blinker.."
"why because she blinks a lot?"
"no dicko because she's always high."
Maeve, no one called her that. She had plenty
nicknames, 'junkie', 'skank', 'triple e',, she'd heard
it all, and being associated...
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" Maeve bell gave Dusty a wristie? You into eshays now brah? "
First day back at term, the words no student wanted to hear. Back to the classrooms painted with the cheapest paint they could find, the stained floors that were weirdly sticky, and no one wanted to find out why. That wasn't Maeve's biggest worry though.
CA$HY somethings happened like something fucking bad's happened meet me in the bin yard yeh?
What the fuck did that mean? Maeve stared down at her phone, wondering what she could even say to the weirdly alarming message. It was Cash, Dougie, Eshay. Whatever you wanted to call him, one of Maeve's closest mates. They met when they were younger, he'd just been put in care, the same home as her. She snuck into his papers, "child of an addict.". They shared that in common.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. FLASHBACK ..
"Mums a junkie yeh?" A younger Maeve would ask, a tampon string hanging out of her nose, her hair braided covered in charms. Wearing trackie bottoms and the only shirt that they could find in the charity shop.
"What's it to you tampax.." the young boy would snap back, wearing an Adidas tracksuit, his hair shaved and a bruise above his eyebrow.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
They were only 12 then, It's unknown how they actually bonded, but before they even realised they were approaching there last few terms at Hartley. Both out of that shitty care home. He moved in with his Nan, and Maeve went back with her mum, the only choice she had if she didn't want to be adopted into a poster family.
She put her phone down, looking at her wall, covered in spray paint, posters, Polaroids. Her room was far from homey. She slept on a tatted mattress, covered in pillows and blankets, her walls a hospital grey and her floor covered in rugs and clothes, a meek attempt to disguise the fact she had no carpet. Her clothes lived on a rack and she did her makeup in her phone camera.
"You up chicken!?" Her mums rasped voice would call out from downstairs. Followed by a half gasped cough. Maeve could already smell burnt toast, and cigarettes, living in a bungalow never helped with the smells spreading. Her door swung open as she brought her blanket up to cover her, realising it was just her sister she let it fall back down, not caring if her she saw new stick and poke cash had given her weeks prior.
Lola was a piece of work. Her blonde hair was always messy and tatted, her clothes always cut up. She wanted to be a designer, but it wasn't exactly her special point. No one even realised they were sisters, different dads. And the fact they were different colours.
"I want you to do my makeup" were her first words to the Maeve, who was still sat in bed despite having only half an hour until the bus came. Lola wanted to appear older then she actually was. She would be fifteen this year, and she was really following a bad path. Not that it was Maeve's business, she'd done far worse when she was her age.
"No.. I've already told you, you can wear makeup when you can afford your own." She'd mutter as she finally managed to get herself out of bed. Heading out of her room into the bathroom.
"Mum!! Maeve's being a cunt!!" Her sisters voice would shout behind her, she ignored it obviously. Heading into the shower to try scrub off yesterdays eyeliner.
She'd come back into her room, a damp towel wrapped around her body, she smelt of the dollar coconut body wash that her mum always bought. 15 minutes. She'd scramble for something to wear. Settling on baggy grey trackies, a black tank top and her wrists and neck adorned in the usual gold jewellery she always wore. She'd run some black eyeshadow on her waterline, swipe a pump of lipgloss on her lips and spritz dragon fruit room spray onto herself. Before swinging her old backpack on her shoulder, grabbing her phone and heading off.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
She'd walk through the gates of Hartley with a long, possibly over dramatic sigh. Everyone was catching up on what they missed, a few contemplating why they even bothered coming in and a few, too ecstatic for how early it was. She looked over at Amerie with a grimace as she walked in with Sasha and Missy, they systematically all waved at her. She waved back, only because she had too. Maeve was liked by most people, not because she was overly amazing or pretty, but simply because she was the reason they'd all been able to get drugs at parties, her and cash combined.
So her friend circle was pretty far stretched. But she never really liked Amerie, it was something about her, drama seemed to follow her, like a disease or something. And at the fact that she made up a gross rumor about her in year nine. Something about her being a prostitute. But she was determined not to let petty arguments get in the way, at least not for the first day. She walked further, into the main part of the school. Giving the occasional nod or wave at someone.
But really she was just looking for Cash, he'd said meet her at the bins. But she couldn't spot him.
CA$HY
how far off r u?
She'd shove her phone back into her pocket. About to walk on before.
"OI!! There's a fully-gacked sex map in the old stairwell!" A girl would shout, ginger with plaits. Her name might of been Lily?
The announcement sent everyone running, Maeve walked along with them, her head running with questions, what the fuck is a sex map? She'd think to herself.
Jesus. There really was a sex map. Everyone's names in funky fonts and colours, there was even a key list. She spotted her name, or her nickname at least. "BLINKER" In turquoise and white. That wasn't what caught her attention though, a arrow pointing to her name, in small lettering.
'Eshay cum dumpster' what, the, FUCK? She'd scramble to look at her name closer, a disgusted yet panicked look on her face.
"Hey who the fuck wrote this?" She'd yell out in the bustling crowd, the sound of camera clicks and arguments, already starting. There goes staying out of drama. There was different lines connecting to her name, that's when she saw Cash. He was following the keys to his own name, she hadn't bothered to look at his yet.
Scissored Harper McLean, true.
Fingered by Spider, half true, the cunt couldn't even find her clit!
Fucked, Made out, Blowy, Wristy. There was a fair amount of lines coming from her name. Not all of them were true but, no one else knew that.
"Maeve Bell gave Dustie a wristy? You into eshays now brah?" Spider would mock, spider. Spencer. The cunt of year 12, a haircut almost as floppy as his dick and the ego of Hercules. Maeve would spin back, as dustie muttered something inaudible over all the noise. She looked over at Cash, he looked back at her.
