Chapter 2: An Afternoon In Fast Food

Maeve soon reached her destination.

Her figure attracted an aggressive amount of attention. Her every bounce as she jogged towards the red and yellow fast-food joint on the corner of Jnr. Lethargy and Sir Ridgerton had many pairs of eyes transfixed on her flexible features. A particularly smitten young fellow nearly got run over because of this, though, by the looks of it, he didn't mind so much.

Maeve disappeared through the entrance of Frank's Fried Friends, and immediately the fast-paced atmosphere of the interior crashed into her. The sounds of delicious heart attacks frying in oil and the smells of frosted, chocolate-laced diabetes swam into her ears and nose.

The obnoxious red and yellow colors that plastered the walls and seats practically stung her eyes, and the queue of hungry, noisy, entitled customers standing in front of the counter was already pricking at Maeve's last nerve.

She rushed through the 'Staff Only' door and as soon as she walked in, she was immediately spotted by the shorter figure of a girl with a full head of curly, sparkling amber hair.

The girl rushed over to Maeve, a deep scowl on her face and the first thing she did was to viciously stomp on Maeve's foot.

Maeve yelped as she withdrew, a grimace of shock and pain on her face.

"You are late, you ungrateful b-word! I had to answer to the manager's BS to save your a-word from being fired!" the short girl hissed. Her voice might have been low to avoid attracting attention, but to Maeve, it sounded loud, heavy, and chilling.

The short girl poked at Maeve's throat with a finger. She winced with an awkward smile.

"I'm sorry, Bridget. I just got... hung up with some stuff. I'll make it up to you, alright? Drinks on me tonight?" said Maeve, her smile turning cheeky.

Bridget seemed to explode from the inside.

"I'd prefer your earnings, you self-serving b-word!"

"I don't wanna hear that from someone who can't even say bitch," retorted Maeve with a short laugh.

Bridget shook her head and threw a uniform towards Maeve. The taller girl's smugness vanished at once. The colors on the uniform stabbed at her eyes.

A savage glee bubbled in Bridget from seeing Maeve's reaction.

"Come on, now. Get changed and hurry to the counter to help Chris. You also have him to thank for covering for you," Bridget said with a grin.

The red and yellow shirt coupled with the black jeans made Maeve want to puke, but ultimately...

"Fuck me."

Soon, she was rushing towards the counter where a young man with caramel hair and a pair of ocean blue eyes could be seen. The large, round-rimmed glasses he wore made him look rather nerdy. His especially thin figure didn't help with his appeal, but his efficiency enthralled even the customers. His demeanor and speed at the cash register were awe-inspiring.

He turned to Maeve when she sighed exasperatedly beside him.

"Hey. You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Maeve, and she proceeded to collect and serve the prepared orders. "Thanks, by the way, Chris. I just... lost track of time. I can take over now."

Chris wore a doubtful look. He had only been working here for three months, which was only half the time Bridget and Maeve had been slaving away in this place, he knew the two girls quite well.

He could identify Maeve's usual edginess from a mile away and decided that it was perhaps better for him to stay close.

"You know what, I think I should handle the register while you just handle the... simpler stuff. You look like you could eat someone right about now," Chris said with a teasing smile.

Maeve was about to flare up but quickly calmed herself. She didn't have to do much after all if Chris decided to act all chivalrous. She punched his shoulder lightly.

"Sure," she said. Chris smiled especially warmly.

 With the fakest smile California had ever seen, Maeve served the customers well.

Some men were charmed by her smile, some by the mole under her eye, and the rest by her emerald green eyes which turned into crescents as she gave a melt worthy, "Enjoy".

The line over the counter diminished at a brisk pace. Everything seemed to be going well today.

Maeve felt herself relax. Her emotions settled. All was good.

Until...

A bold, chiseled man suddenly sauntered his way to the counter and rested his thick arm on it. He flashed a grin towards Maeve who instantly felt venom rise up her throat.

"May I take your order, sir?" said Maeve with herculean restraint.

The beefcake of a man chuckled. The grey sweatshirt he was wearing, which – wouldn't you know it – was rather sweaty inched closer to Maeve as he leaned across the counter. The odor stung Maeve's nose mercilessly.

"Yeah, you can take my order. I'll take a burger, some fries, and maybe," said the man as he drew closer still to Maeve, "a tall, cool glass of a sweet number like you."

Chris cringed as he worked up the change for a customer who, just like many others, felt uncomfortable because of the burly man's presence.

"Oh, yeah?" said Maeve with a bright smile, her eyes widening. She also leaned in closer to the man and batted her eyelids.

"That's right," the man said, biting his lip. "How about I—"

What he was about to ask, none would ever know, because Maeve suddenly pulled on his shirt, dragged him over the counter, and prepared to bless him with a punch to the face!

"How about I give you one of these, huh? You fucker!" Maeve roared.

Chris dived and drew back Maeve's arm. He was shocked by the sheer strength flowing through it.

"Hey, hey, hey!" whispered Chris in Maeve's ear. "Let him go, let him go."

Maeve took several deep breaths before releasing the man's shirt. The man backed away with a mix of confusion, embarrassment, and shock.

Chris gave him an apologetic smile and then turned to Maeve with a 'look'.

Maeve sighed.

"I know, I know," she said and backed away from the counter.

This wasn't her first time being hit on by a tactless asshole. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, but today it felt like it could be.

By some miracle – the appeal of the customers who had witnessed the incident with Maeve to the manager – Maeve continued her work for the rest of the day until it was time to go home in the night. Chilling looks from Chris managed to reel her in when she started to get Hulk-ish through the shift.

Bridget had been working in the kitchen and only heard about the altercation between Maeve and the bulky customer. She chewed Maeve about it on the way home.

"I could have sworn you were gonna kill that guy, Maeve. The look on his face was priceless though, I'll give you that," said Chris as he pushed up his glasses, a short laugh leaving his lips.

"Shut up. You'd do the same if you were in my shoes," Maeve said sniffily.

"No, I wouldn't. I'd quit my job and move to New York; away from that guy's God-awful pick-up lines, not to mention his potential to put me in a wheelchair for life after one lovely, romantic night," Chris said dramatically.

Bridget burst into laughter.

"Was he that thick?" she asked.

"You have no idea," said Maeve as she shook her head. "That guy should be trying his luck with horses instead."

The three had a few laughs at the burly man's expense.

The clusters of lights from cars on the road brought the night to life while the sounds of late-night activity made the city feel a bit more cheerful.

As they reached a certain junction, the two girls parted with Chris.

"Night, ladies," he said to them before giving Maeve one last meaningful look. She didn't seem to notice.

The two girls continued straight on, passing closed shops and mostly empty streets.

"Bridget. I want to go home tomorrow," said Maeve suddenly. Her expression was rather sad.

Bridget looked at her, stunned. She slowed to a stop.

"Home? Why?" she asked with a frown.

"I just... I want to ask my parents something," Maeve said.

She wished she could tell Bridget the unease her condition was generating within her.

All Bridget and Chris knew was that Maeve was having some severe mood swings and the occasional fever. She didn't dare mention anything else. All they had suspected was that she was pregnant or something, but even they hadn't truly believed it.

Would the two still want to be Maeve's friends if she told them about how she flung a dude across a room today?

How would they feel if she told them that she often found herself craving raw meat lately? That was, after all, one of the latest, and more concerning urges caused by this condition of hers.

Maeve could imagine the look Bridget would give her if she actually saw what she was like at her worst. She (Maeve) felt it was better to deal with this herself. She couldn't allow even the slightest chance of losing Bridget.

They had been friends since high school, after all. True friends.

"Your 'parents' are the reason you're living alone. What could you possibly want to ask them? For money? My dad and I can continue to support you till you get on your feet if that's the case. If you stop being stubborn you can still move in with us. We won't hesitate to welcome you," said Bridget.

She held Maeve's hand and looked deeply into her eyes.

Maeve was touched.

She had been offered to come to stay with the Pages – Bridget's family – a few months ago. Bridget's father had even offered to help pay for Maeve's education if she wanted to go to college, but she refused.

Unfortunately, the answer as to why she declined, was anything but reasonable.

"Thanks. I'll consider it. Again. But still... I just wanna ask my parents something and then I'll never look back again," Maeve said with a cheerless smile.

Bridget had been hopeful, but once again, she was shot down.

"Alright then," she said. She didn't press. The two continued to walk home.

They split up after a while, with Bridget saying goodbye to Maeve as she rode a taxi home.

Maeve watched as the taxi disappeared round the corner, and then slowly walked to her apartment.

She digested everything that had happened today and thought about her next plan. She wanted to see her parents because she just had to ask. Could whatever was happening to her be connected to them somehow? Possibly.

As she reached her apartment door, she found it open with the lights inside switched on.

Maeve panicked. Her breathing hastened. She slowly swung the door open to its limit, her eyes darted to and fro.

She entered her apartment cautiously and saw two men in her room.

When Maeve's shadow spilled in, the men turned to her. One of them wore a bright smile, while the other took a deep breath while muttering something under his breath.

"Hello, Maeve Irving. May we have a few minutes of your time," said the man with the bright smile.