Seventeen-year old first year college student Josie Clarke would prefer not to blush the colour crimson at every little thing, but Idiopathic Craniofacial Erythema, a chronic facial condition doesn't play fair.
In fact, it's as uncontrollable...
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The high I've been coasting along on all through Sunday morning comes swiftly crashing down once I stumble upon Maddie, crying between the drama studio. She's in tight black leggings and an off-shoulder neon pink sweat.
It's much too early for this. It is a Monday after all and I'd rather not have to endure anymore awkward encounters.
Sunday morning, after waking up beside Max was about as awkward as they come, but this might actually be worse. Like walking into an on coming swarm of angry hornets.
I've been stung too many times by Maddie now to know that being anywhere near her is bad news.
But maybe there is a god up above today, looking out for me because I see her before she clocks me carrying my lunch, hoping to find a quiet spot away from the canteen. Quickly, I press my back against the brick wall dividing us and I suck in a deep breath, my heart pounding a thousand beats a second.
A few more pass before I relax my grip against the wall as Maddie starts to sob again. It's an ugly cry. The kind that's full of snot, which she wipes across her forearm when I peek half my head out. And she's crying so much she doesn't notice my trainer loudly scrape the pavement or my backpack drop off my shoulder like it's full of rocks.
And I could walk back in the other direction. Slip through the department doors before she'd ever realise I was there, but something keeps me rooted to the spot.
I've never seen Maddie like this. It's both unsettling and intriguing. And I can't walk or look away as pulls her dark sunglasses down to cover the trail of smeared mascara and brings her knees up to bury her face.
For the first time all morning, my mind puts Max on pause and instead of wondering (and worrying) why I haven't heard anything from him since our kiss, it races to draw conclusions about why someone like Maddie would have anything to ugly cry over.
Drawing in another sniff, my gaze traces the blotchy red patches all over her skin and the tangled hair, like she's been pulling at it. When she pinches the bridge of her nose I wonder how long she's been out here sobbing for to it to get so blocked. Not that I should waste my time caring.
I'd hedge my bets on Spencer's absence having something to do with it. An argument over who get's to be the worst human being, maybe. In any case it gives me the tinniest hope that their kingdom built atop of insults and cruel nicknames might be slowly crumbling.
It's no secret that they've racked up four break ups already this year. And for all Maddie's well documented and loathed faults, Spencer is a total dick and I wouldn't be surprised at all.
