#maevedjae

Kit felt clammy all over. Since he received a call from the cops this morning, informing him they wanted to ask him more questions, he hasn’t been able to get anything done. Not pay attention in class. Not do the slightest bit of school work. Even eating felt like a chore. The chocolate chip muffin he ordered and taken a bite out of abandoned in its wrapper before him. He probably just needed to talk to someone about this. Though the one person he would usually go to for that sort of conversation... they weren’t exactly talking. Groaning, he dropped his head into his hand, digging his forehead into his palm in a silent plea for the anxiety he’s felt since the call to leave him already. When he pulled back to sit up again, he caught a familiar flash of red among the students in his line of vision and something stirred in him. He chased after it, abandoning his seat ( and muffin ) to approach her. “Maeve, hey–” He greeted, tense fingers pressed to the pockets of his jeans. “Did you, um. Did you get called in for a second interview too?”