Maggie took a few steps back, teetering in heels before coming to a stop at the porcelain sink. She perched her ass on the edge of basin, hands curling around the edge, cool to the touch. It was one of those dumb grounding exercises that actually helped. Name something you can touch, something you can see, something you can hear, blah blah blah. She'd done it over and over again, in and out of rehab. Right now it was working to keep the grimace off of her face as Amy's words hit her square in the chest. Whatever. She guessed she kind of deserved that one.
"I guess it doesn't." she said, pursing her lips. Because it didn't, really. It didn't matter how Maggie spelled it out, Amy clearly had no interest in rekindling whatever mutually orgasmic thing they had going on. It didn't matter whether or not Maggie had a boyfriend - or that her tolerance for men came and went with alarming rapidity - what mattered to Amy was that she'd been, well, kind of an asshole.
The beginning prickling of guilt sat heavy on her chest. She was good at hurting people's feelings, less so at owning up to her wrongdoings. Looking at Amy now, with her fluttering, fidgeting hands and her words echoing off the walls of the art-deco bathroom, Maggie was reminded of all the times she'd accidentally upset Sephy. Her face would turn downwards into a little half-pout, like she was trying not to let onto the fact Maggie had been a colossal bitch. Nothing hurt worse than upsetting Sephy, because Sephy was one of her oldest friends, and pretty much the kindest, sweetest person she'd ever met.
It didn't make much sense that seeing Amy uncomfortable would garner that same feeling she got when she made her best friend sad. There were few similarities between them. Except, well, the stirrings of attraction Maggie tried hard to push down when she saw both girls. And the fact that she kind of cared what they both thought of her.
Fuck, she like, cared about what Amy thought of her!
She drummed her fingers against the side of the sink, biting back a sigh as she frowned at the other girl.
"I don't date men." she stated, voice unwavering as she stared at Amy.
Ugh. She so hated grovelling.
"I'm sorry I was mean." she tried, fully aware of how icky and juvenile her words sounded. "And I'm sorry I didn't call. I can't remember if I said I would call, but. Anyway. It would have been like, courteous to call."
Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, she gave the other girl a quick once over, trying to judge if her pathetic plea for forgiveness was working to loosen her up at all.
"This whole situation is lowkey super humiliating, so. I would really like if we could just call it even. And part ways as um, unlikely friends?" she rambled, feeling the skin stretch taut across her knuckles as her grip on the sink grew tighter. "That's if, you like, don't want to see me again?"
Amy was already tired of whatever game it was they were playing. She would never dream of outing Maggie, not in a million years, but that didnât mean she was allowed to walk all over her and treat her like dirt. Amelia was no stranger to casual sex, and if that was all the other girl had wanted then sheâd have been more than obliging. Getting to go down on the Maggie Mei Chance was no small feat, and it was a badge of honour that Amelia would have worn with pride. Sufficed to say, it was the other girlâs attitude that had pissed her off so much. Sheâd gone from fingering Amy in a bathroom stall to cringing away from her very presence or the mere sight of her, only to come full circle again by wanting Amyâs head between her thighs.Â
For a while, Amy had been stupid enough to fall for those games, but now she was just tired. Sheâd spent her fair share time letting herself be humiliated by others and herself, but she knew it was time to stop. Just from talking to Ty and Teddy â vague as she was about the identity of the other girl â she knew she was accepting a standard that she didnât deserve.Â
âDoes Tiny Tim out there know you donât date men?â Amelia asked, fixing the other girl with a stare.Â
It would be just as easy to let her off the hook and avoid any discomfort, but that wasnât who Amy was anymore. Whatever optimism sheâd once carried had long since been stomped out of her through years of trauma and the dull ache of various hangovers. She no longer wanted to give people second, third and fourth chances to disappoint her. It was high time she accepted that once people showed her who they were, she should believe them the first time.Â
Amyâs back was pressed against the harsh porcelain of the bathroom sink, her fingers still pinching at her split ends, wispy and broken. She pouted, knowing a girl like Maggie probably didnât have split ends, not when she had stylists and beauticians on hand to make her look practically perfect in every way. Her hands dropped feebly to her side as she listened to the other girlâs awkward apology. It was clumsy and unrehearsed, as though sheâd never envisioned sheâd need to face Amy again, never mind say sorry to her.Â
âI donât care that you didnât call,â Amelia scoffed. She couldnât believe what she was hearing right now. She hadnât been hanging onto her phone waiting for the other girl to text or call. Her whole life wasnât tied to knowing whether or not Maggie Chance remembered she existed or not.Â
It was about the way sheâd treated her when theyâd been together far more than it was about forgotten texts or unanswered phone calls. It would be a long time before she forgot the obvious look of repulsion on Maggieâs face when theyâd last bumped into each other. Sure, Amelia hadnât expected her to kiss her there and then with an audience, but she thought she might have at least greeted her as a friend.Â
âIâm so sorry that your shitty behaviour has been humiliating for you,â Amelia deadpanned, her tone harsher than she was used to hearing it. She rolled her eyes, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over her in turn. Even at her worst, Amelia wasn't a confrontational person, but she was at the end of her tether. Plus, Maggie was highkey ruining Christmas for her. âBut how does this make us even exactly? Youâre a dick to me and I save your ass, and that somehow makes us even? Do you think by being pretty and a popstar it makes you untouchable?âÂ
