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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My fingers slip off the buttons as I type in another message to Max. One I'm sure will be ignored just like all the others sent since mine and Maddie's 'bet'.
From: Josie
To: Max M
2.34pm
Hey Max, it's important. Can you msg me back or txt?
Thanks
Josie
Fro: Josie
To: Max M
2.48pm
Okay so maybe you're ignoring me or you really don't have any credit but I wanted to know if you're at college or home. I need to speak to you re: charity talent show. Like, an hour ago.
Josie
And I've tried calling but it's rung off into a voicemail that I've no desire to try and explain anything to, because by the fifth call I know it's completely pointless.
So off to Max's I've trekked. Up and round pretty cul-de-sacs and over hot asphalt, under scrutiny of the sun, which bears down on my back like the weight of what I've just started: Agreeing to do battle with Maddie.
By the time I take off my t-shirt it's soaked through. Luckily, I'd checked the weather forecast and packed a spare. In the relative privacy of a small alleyway between two grand detached houses and their sprawling, high fences I pull the old one off and change into a t-shirt that I notice only has moth holes in it once I'm stood on Max's doorstep. Lifting and dropping the heavy iron knocker with frustration and the possibly of sun-stroke, which I'm trying hard to push to the back of my mind.
What's more important right now is telling Max that he doesn't have to worry about going it alone for the charity talent show. I'm just not sure how best to explain how my name got added or why I've made a deal with devil, without him thinking I'm using him for personal gain.
For a deal I'm likely to loose but have entered into nonetheless.
As I breathlessly let the knocker slam against the door once more, it swings open and a shock of orange hair, sectioned off into french braids greet me. Melissa peers round and touches the knocker with her painted black nails. "Once is more than enough."
