𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 ━ max mayfield

2│WEST END GIRLS

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❛ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴡᴇsᴛ ᴇɴᴅ ɢɪʀʟs ꒱


❝ YOU THINK YOU'RE
MAD, TOO UNSTABLE ❞

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While other girls that she went to school with changed their outfits at least once a day, Jessie's outer appearance remained the same. Her t-shirt and jeans were always covered by her father's olive-green army coat, she owned one pair of beat-up sneakers that needed to be replaced and her hair remained tied in twin braids. The consistency was reassuring while the world around her changed and she could always expect people's reactions to her; if she wore something else that would introduce a new, unfamiliar variable which might lead to a worse situation.

She also occupied the same spot in the cafeteria every day since the first year of elementary school. While other tables were crowded with students sitting with their friends, hers remained empty except for, well, her. This hardly bothered her in the slightest; there was so much noise from the cafeteria already that any more would further her discomfort. Instead, it allowed her to continue to wear her Walkman without appearing rude. Rather than talk with her peers, she kept her eyes focused on her tray as she ate the mostly unappetizing school food.

While she maintained her daily routine, she didn't notice the girl with flaming hair— Max— sit at the opposite end of her table. She also didn't notice the four boys whose eyes were suddenly (and obviously) glued to the potential interaction. Jessie remained intent on the tray before her, oblivious to how the red-haired girl shot glances her way or the fact that every two minutes, she surreptitiously shifted down the bench a few inches closer to the brunette.

When Max had pushed her food until she was sitting nearly opposite of the other girl, she stood and went to get some napkins as a nonchalant way of announcing her presence. Upon her return, she jokingly reached out and tugged on one of the girl's twin braids. Jessie startled badly at the contact and, without stopping to take in who it was, she leapt to her feet. Her hand flashed out, grasped Max's wrist in a tight grip and in a second, she had the redhead's arm pinned behind her back as the girl let out a pained yelp.

The sound was swallowed by the noise of the cafeteria but their rapid movements had caught the attention of some of the students. A few sent mutters of "loony" her way before they turned back to their meals. It was only when the familiar flame of red registered in her line of sight did she realize what had happened. 

"Oh!" Jessie exclaimed. She quickly released the girl.

"Jesus," Max complained as she rolled out her shoulder and rubbed her wrist at the same time. "What sort of crazy person reacts like that?"

"I, um—" The brunette sat down quickly. "Instinct. Sorry."

"Again, what sort of crazy person reacts like that?" she repeated as she retook her seat.

Jessie shrugged. "I've learned that if I don't make the first move it turns out a whole lot worse for me."

"First move? For what?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bit unpopular," she commented drily. She waved to the rest of the empty table. "If I don't stand up for me, no one will. I can't let the enemy have the upper hand."

"Enemy?" Max echoed, staring at her. "We're at school."

The brunette shrugged again. "Case in point. It took me a few years to learn that reporting it results in nothing so I had resort to defending myself."