“Good morning.”
Oliver turned. Thankfully, he had finished urinating—otherwise he would have coated Maeve’s leg in a stream of warm piss. She stood at the sink with toothpaste foaming around her lips.
“Door was open.” He slipped himself back into his pajama trousers.
“Yep.” She pulled the toothbrush from her mouth. “Didn’t think I needed to close the door to brush my teeth.” She laughed too hard and sprayed toothpaste foam on his cheek. “Oh god.”
She spat into the sink as he wiped his face with the closest towel.
“I’m so sorry.”
She spat again and wiped her mouth with her own towel. Oliver grunted and shuffled out of the bathroom.
“I’m really sorry! There’s half a chicken sandwich left from my lunch, if you want it. I didn’t bite off it or anything.”
He waved his hand as he descended the stairs.
Maeve followed him into the hall. “And let me know if there’s anything you want me to get for the party!”
“Party?”
Callum stood beside her. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair and skin had a greasy sheen as if he hadn’t showered in several days.
“Yeah. The party. You know.” She waved the foamy wet toothbrush as she spoke.
“No, actually I don’t.”
“We told you. We definitely told you. End of year bash. Final farewell to Caldwell Street. You must not remember.” She poked him in the shoulder. Callum palmed the area as if wounded.
“No. Nobody told me. I would’ve remembered if Oliver was planning on throwing one of his stupid parties because I would’ve said no.”
“It’s not one of his parties. It’s one of ours. We established rules and everything.”
Callum frowned and turned to go back to his room, but Maeve caught his wrist and held it, his pulse thumping beneath her thumb.
“Callum, what is it? What’s wrong?”
There were few times in Maeve’s life where it could be said she was genuinely concerned for the welfare of another human being. Here, as she held Callum’s wrist, was the first of these times. And everything might have turned out differently if Callum had been allowed to answer that question. But at the precise moment he spoke, Ellie appeared in the hall, shower caddy in hand.
“Oh hello! What are we all doing out here then?”
Maeve dropped Callum’s wrist. “Nothing. Do you need the shower?”
“I do. Didn’t have a chance to wash my hair this morning. Lorna took ages, and I want to look fresh for tonight. Aren’t you excited for the party, Callum?”
It was then that Maeve performed the single bravest act she’d commit in her lifetime.
“Actually, Ellie, I was thinking maybe we should cancel the party.”
“Cancel? But we set up rules and everything.”
“I know, but Callum’s feeling a bit under the weather, and it is finals week, after all. He needs rest. It would be rude of us, playing loud music, talking”—she lowered her voice—“smoking, when he’s up here trying to get some rest.”
“Oh, poppet.” Ellie frowned. “Are you really that poorly?”
Callum looked stunned. Whether because of Maeve’s actions or because he realized he had not yet escaped to his room, they would never know.
“Forget it, Maeve. It’s fine,” he said.
“Are you sure? It’s no trouble.”
“I said I’m fine! It’s fine. It’s all fine. You didn’t ask me when you planned it. Why should you ask me to cancel it?” He vanished behind a slammed door.
Ellie folded her arms, her shower caddy dangling from her fingers. “Well, honestly, there was no reason to be so rude about it.”
Maeve watched the closed door as if by staring hard enough she could get it to reveal the secrets within.
“Are you done yet? In there?” Ellie jerked her thumb toward the bathroom.
“Sorry. Yeah. Almost.” She shuffled to the sink to rinse her toothbrush while Ellie waited in the doorway.
“You know, if you wanted to cancel, we could,” Ellie said.
“Really?”
“Of course. I know how nervous you get at these parties. If it makes you uncomfortable . . .”
Maeve snapped the toothbrush back into its yellow travel case. “I don’t get nervous. I’m just concerned for Callum.”
“Of course you are.”
“Not like that!”
“I wasn’t implying anything.”
“Yeah, sure you weren’t.” Maeve shoved her toothbrush, paste, and tweezers into her toiletry bag, shaking it hard when it wouldn’t all fit. Ellie’s shower slippers flapped against the tiled bathroom floor.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset!” Maeve cleared her throat. “I’m not upset.”
“Good, because the party really is going to be fun. I even bought some of those strawberry alcopops you like.”
“You did?”
Ellie rested her caddy on the toilet and brushed out her hair. “I got something for everyone. And you know I heard Oliver saying he liked that little yellow dress you bought from Top Shop.”
“The one with the buttons?”
“He saw it hanging on the closet door before you took it upstairs. He thought it was mine.”
Maeve looked down at her waistline. “I have lost some weight.”
“But it’s up to you, of course. And if you want to cancel, I’ll be behind you one hundred percent.”
Maeve stared at herself in the mirror, smoothed the eyebrows she hadn’t had a chance to pluck, teased her hair with her fingers. “No, you know, it’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“You already bought all that food. It would be a shame to waste it.”
“Brilliant! So are you . . . I mean, I need to shower.”
“Right, yeah. Sorry.” Maeve gathered her towel and toiletry bag, then paused at the door. “Ellie, later, would you mind helping me with my hair? I can never do anything with it.”
“Absolutely! It’ll be fab. We can have a whole makeover session.”
“Makeover?”
“Oh, the water’s warm. Better get my shower before it runs out. Mind closing the door?”
Maeve remained alone in the hall for several minutes, staring at Callum’s door. I don’t know exactly what she was thinking, whether it was something to do with Ellie’s makeover comment or learning Oliver liked her dress or Callum’s attitude or how she hadn’t even thanked him for helping her with that tricky maths exam. When I asked, she couldn’t remember, like how she couldn’t remember seeing me and saying “hi” before she went upstairs to hide in her room. That disappointed me, but I wasn’t surprised. If there was anything consistent about their memories from that period, it was that they barely remembered me. Even if I didn’t live there, I was around often enough. I knew all of their names, where they were from, what courses they were taking. I knew all their bad things and their secrets, and they couldn’t even bother to remember my face.
10