"No matter your problems, face them with a bright smile and a bucket of chocolate ice-cream," nana once wisely told me. At the time, I was barely twelve and thought that I could summon a unicorn if I just believed in myself.
A decade later, despi...
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Maeva's point of view.
Was I not clear enough when I said I did not want Dr. Richardson to know I was here? Weren't nails taring his flesh a decent threat for him not to call the clinic? He did it anyway! He did it and he didn't care about what I wanted or how it made me feel. He just wanted to make sure that I didn't die on his watch. The selfish prick!
As he finally realizes where my voice was emerging from, he screams my name while shading on his eyes with the palm of his hand. "What are you doing up there?" Oh, how I'd like to smear that beard of his on the dusty asphalt...
"It's none of your business!" I shriek, and he clenches his jaw the way he'd normally do whenever things didn't go his way.
"You're standing on my roof," he points out, and I only shrug while trying not to break my façade before taking my revenge. "What happened?" he adds, cracking his knuckles in frustration. Now he wants to play the innocent victim, huh?
"I don't know, you tell me!"
"Is it that time of the month again?" He asks, his smirk proudly put on display as some of the towners gather a couple of feet away from him. I might as well come up with more elaborate comebacks, for our audience's growing quite fast.
"You mean the time where you magically turn into an asshole?" I reply, and his smirk fades away almost instantly. "That can't be right, though. You're like that all three hundred and sixty-five days."
"Maeva, you'll get dizzy again and I won't be able to catch you."
"Oh please. I do not need you, Mr. Prince in shining armor. I can manage everything on my own."
Just then, a red car's parked beside the sidewalk and three familiar silhouettes come out of it.
"Why hasn't anyone invited me to the event of the season?!" James asks, his hands tucked in his pocket in pure amusement at the show he's been granted. Kimberly, on the other hand, flashes me a you-go-girl smile and tries to disperse the crowd.
"Maeva, let's talk this out." Julia attempts to reason me, but I refuse to back down. No matter how crazy they think I am. It's become a matter of principle.
"I have nothing to talk about," I tell her.
Suddenly, Mark's face snaps into a demon-like grimace, and the green of his eyes shifts into a deep black. Now that's what I call witchcraft.
"Oh, yes you do," he screeches, and his voice only comes through his gritted teeth. He's finally riled up, I see. Hit me with your best shot, Williams. "How about you tell us what's been going on in your brain lately?" Meh, not much actually. I've been thinking a lot about that new apple pie recipe, though. "Why did you leave?" I see he's going crescendo on the topics. "Or perhaps you could prove how naïve you are because you thought that we'd go back to normal as soon as you graced us with your regal presence."
