~Maeve~
When I stumble out of the room like a drunk, I run into a very surprised Freya who lets out a very loud yelp. “f**k, Maeve!” she curses, as she reaches out to stabilize me. My head is spinning but I try not to let it show because I am drowning in guilt and there is no way I can meet her concerned green eyes. Although I haven’t done anything that I should be remotely feeling remorseful about, because in no form or shape do I return Noah’s feelings, I still feel blameworthy. I had been trying to help her all along, with no clue that her biggest obstacle was me. When I refuse to make eye contact, Freya tilts her head and tries to get a proper look at me. “Mae? What’s wrong?”
Everything. Everything about this situation. Me. Noah. Freya. Dylan. All of this.
She’s the last per
