Chapter 9

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"It has been weeks," Eric says from across the cafeteria table, "Stop day dreaming and say something." He throws a stuffed up foil ball at your head.
"Like she feels the same." You throw the ball back at his forehead, "I've got a class to get to E."

***

Your phone vibrates from the pocket in your jeans, checking to see if anyone was looking you pull it out opening a text from Maeve. A somewhat inappropriate drawing of a vagina covers your screen, you let out a loud laugh and fail at disguising it as a cough as heads turn.

Scanning the room once more, you pull back your worksheet and take a picture of one of the many infamous boob drawings that seem to cover the classroom tables of Moordale.

You - 01:27pm
I prefer this artists earlier work.
*plus 1 attachment*

Maeve - 01:27pm
Alright Picasso

***

The inappropriate picture sending of Moordale's finest art continues throughout the week, even when Maeve wasn't in school, you'd still find doodles in the back of text books to spark an early morning conversation.

You - 09:17am
A masterpiece of pure eroticism...
*plus 1 attachment*

Maeve - 09:18am
I'm officially never eating toast again you arsehat.

You - 09:19am
Maybe if you turned up and studied with me you could experience the gold mines of school text books

Maeve - 09:21am
Oh piss off, I study for what I care about

You - 09:22am
Just say you don't study Maeve

Maeve - 09:22am
That's it, I'm not talking to you anymore, you're officially a dickhead

You smile widely but quickly shiver and shake your head, "Get over her for fuck sake." You mutter to yourself.

***

Maeve - 10:02am
I think I found our Renoir.
*plus 1 attachment*

Along with the text is a video of Adam, spray
painting pubic hairs on a wall, which looks to be out the back of the school. You shove your books into your locker and slam the door, a little forcefully, and stumble your way through the corridor.

"Ah ha!" Eric calls.
You look glance briefly up from your phone to look at him, "Oh hey E."
"You're in love with Maeve." He states, pointing to your open text conversation, stopping you mid stride.
Quickly shutting your phone off and putting it away you carry on walking, "What? I'm- I'm not. I'm not in love." You stutter.
Eric hums a response under his breath.
You roll your eyes, "Don't be stupid."
"You've been glued to your phone for like, three weeks now," he says jogging as he catches you up, "and every time she texts you, this happens." He points to your face, "you turn into this loved up, happy y/n."

"Who's in love?" Otis asks rounding the corner.
"Me, apparently." You say rolling your eyes.
"And who are you in love with?" He questions, glancing at you with a smirk on his face.
Just as your about to speak up Eric jumps in, "Me, obviously." He says mockingly.

You all laugh, still walking through the corridors, "I heard a rumour, Maeve was sleeping with Jackson." Otis randomly whispers to the two of you.
"What?" Eric blurts out, "Maeve Wiley is having super hot, athletic, sweaty intercourse with Jackson Marchetti?"
Otis shushes Eric and waves his hands awkwardly, "Casual sex." He corrects as Eric impersonates moaning noises.

"You seem to know all about her relationship status." You remark.
"We happen to attend a school full of gossipers," he says shrugging his shoulders, "I'm surprised you didn't know, considering how close the two of you have gotten..."
"Hey check this out," you stop, pointing to a sign posted in a notice board.
"Y/n Milburn you cannot distract me-" Eric states, however you don't hear the rest of it as you're halfway down the corridor and out of the door.

We Get It, You're Mean - Maeve Wiley X ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now