EUPHORIA - My Moon and Stars..

23

Maya's POV:
"Where are you heading?" Elliot asked as we rushed down the hallways. "Auditions for Lexi's play." I mumbled trying to see above heads if I was late or not. Elliot chuckled thinking I was joking before seeing I was being serious. "She's one of my best friends, of course I'll do her play." I rolled my eyes laughing as he nodded, grinning. "There's way too many fucking parties in this school" Rue muttered joining us walking.

I looked at her in confusion, wondering who was throwing a party. "Ion even know whose fucking party it is but we're invited" she mumbled and I nodded, I deserved to get shit faced without judgement and a party was always the way to go. "You going?" Elliot asked me, I nodded without hesitation as he smirked. "Me too."

"Lexi I ran as fast I could." I sighed as I sat down in the line of students auditioning. She looked at me and asked "ran?" I rolled my eyes before saying "fine I walked. But I promise I was walking real fast." I said as she chuckled. "It's okay, thanks for coming!" She smiled, side hugging me.

After school, I walked home alone just to enjoy the weather, it was nice and sunny, the clouds covering the right amount of the sky. I loved this weather. As I was walking, my phone buzzed in my pocket so I pulled it out and unlocked it to see who texted me.

Fez - if u wna i can pick u up for the party

                          Maya - okay:)

I got home and ran up to my room, immediately throwing myself onto my bed and closing my eyes sighing. To be honest.. I wasn't clean. Since the hospital, I couldn't really stick to the sobriety, I just wasn't exactly ready to do drugs around other people. Sometimes I wished I had a mom like Rue's, someone who would encourage me to stop doing drugs, but my mom... my mom picks and chooses when she wants to care.

Okay. So I definitely must've forgot to explain what happened with Maya's dad. Her adopted father, died two years ago. Maya was just 15. Her adopted father was kind of an asshole to her adopted mom but she didn't care, he was good to her and wasn't that the whole fucking point of adoption? Anyway, Maya's real parents were mentally ill addicts who eloped in the summer of their senior year. Which was when Maya was just 1 years old. They flew to Vegas high on ecstasy, Maya was with them. They got married on heroin and Maya's birth mother overdosed exactly two weeks after she got married. Maya's birth father was so distraught, merely broken without the girl who he was madly and indestructibly in love with... he killed himself. He left Maya with a trusted individual. That individual, well.. that's a story for another day. Maya ended up in foster care. Her mental health issues were hereditary if that's even the right fucking word. Maya was a broken individual, she wasn't even aware exactly how fucking traumatised she was. The years of being thrown from foster parents to fucking foster parents.. houses to houses.

"MOM IM GOING TO A PARTY TONIGHT" I shouted, announcing my plans. I heard her shout back "BE BACK AT 12" I rolled my eyes at her continuing to pretend she cared. I opened the windows letting a breeze pass as I changed into my dress. As I spun around in my mirror, trying to look at the potential outfits for tonight.

While Maya modelled her own clothing to herself, attempting to find the perfect dress, Elliot was laying in bed stressing himself out. How the fuck was he in love with Maya? How the fuck were things supposed to be normal after finding out he was in love. He grabbed a pillow and pressed it over his face in complete annoyance. Why did he have to fall in love with her? Why was he about to ruin their friendship.. AGAIN? It was very fucking obvious Maya didn't want to be with him at that moment in time. He tried to think back to the moment he knew and that's when he figured it out. He figured it out that he was MADLY in love with my best friend. The day Maya danced freely, her eyes relaxed instead of red and bloodshot from being high. Her movements swift and graceful rather than her stiff, paranoid movements from being high. He fell in love with her eyes, the way they fluttered when she wanted to convince him to dance. He fell in love with her hair and the way it fell down her back as she moved around, the way it curled right to the root. He fell in love with every, last bit of her. And he had meant what he said that day they met, he wasn't sure at all that it was a good thing they met.