Chapter Text
Episode 2.3
Otis and Ola were on her bed, hands wandering across each other when Otis began to hesitate.
"What's wrong?" Ola asked.
"Can we stop for a minute?" he asked and Ola sensed a sad uncertainty in his tone.
"Sure," she said, frowning.
Otis released her and lay on her bed on his side. Ola looked at him, concerned.
"What's wrong?" she asked, lying beside him, gazing into his eyes.
Otis took a deep breath. "I like you, Ola."
"I like you, too," she said, smiling uncertainly.
"Do you love me?" he asked, scrunching his face.
Ola was surprised at the question and began to answer then hesitated.
Otis nodded, as if he had confirmation. "I like you," he said, quietly, "but I don't think I'm in love with you."
It should have been a gut-punch. Ola knew it should have been a gut-punch, but instead it was strangely liberating. She looked at Otis, confused.
"I know," she said wonderingly. "I think I've always known."
"I'm sorry…" Otis began, upset.
Ola looked at him, puzzled for a moment, then said, reassuringly, "No, no. I'm not mad, Otis. I'm not mad."
Otis looked at her, not understanding.
"I'm not in love with you either," Ola said. "I don't think I ever have been."
Otis looked hurt.
Ola smiled. "Oh, don't take it that way. I like you, Otis. I wouldn't have asked you out if I hadn't liked you. And this has been fun. You've become a really good kisser and you're getting better at… the other things."
Otis gave her an uncertain smile.
"But I think we should have been just friends," Ola said.
Otis thought for a moment then said, hesitantly, "Is it selfish that I'm glad we were more than just friends?"
"No," Ola said, softly smiling. "I got benefits out of it as well." She lowered her voice. "You're the first person who ever fingered me and made me come and you helped me realise that I need to ask for what I want if I'm going to get it."
Otis smiled. "You're the first person who ever held me and made me come and you're the first person I ever kissed and… you're the person who initiated my problem back between terms."
"What?" Ola frowned.
"I'd never been able to wank before you kissed me."
Ola blinked in surprise. "Oh, wow. I never… why didn't you tell me?"
"It was kind of embarrassing."
"More embarrassing than getting a boner in the middle of assembly?"
"No," Otis said, sheepishly.
Ola smiled at him. "Thanks for being honest with me."
"I just thought… it wouldn't be good for either of us if we weren't both in love. Not in the long term."
"You thinking of your parents?"
"No," said Otis.
Ola took a deep breath and considered carefully. "I'm not mad, Otis, honest. But is it Maeve?"
"What?" Otis said, startled and guilty.
"Are you in love with Maeve?"
"I'm not breaking up with you because of Maeve," Otis protested.
"That's not what I asked."
Otis looked at her, prepared to protest further, then stopped and sighed. "I like Maeve, but… we're only going to be friends."
"Because she's a lion and you're a kangaroo?"
Otis groaned. "Oh, I wish I never-"
"It's okay, Otis. I know you didn't mean it the way it came out. I'm not bothered by it anymore because I know I'm fucking awesome."
"You are," Otis smiled.
"Just not the awesome for you."
Otis gazed at her sadly.
"How do you know you're in love?" Ola asked softly.
"What?"
"I've never been in love. How do you know you are?" Ola asked.
"Was," Otis corrected. "Were."
"Whatever," Ola said.
Otis thought for a moment. "I couldn't stop thinking about her. I couldn't eat as much as I used to – don't know the connection between love and loss of appetite. I'd feel nervous and excited whenever I saw her – butterflies in the stomach. Goosebumps. Maybe that's why the loss of appetite."
Ola studied Otis' face, fascinated by his feelings being so transparently reflected there.
"Whenever she smiled, my heart skipped a beat and if I was the one who made her smile, or especially if I made her laugh, I'd be over the moon. I wanted to be there when she triumphed, comfort her when she stumbled. I just wanted to let her know she mattered to me and I wanted to matter to her."
Ola ran her gaze across his face. "I think Maeve likes you," she said.
"Well, we're friends."
Ola rolled her eyes. "Don't pretend to be obtuse, Otis."
"Why would you say that?" he asked, nervously.
"A few looks she's given me. She tried to get between us."
"When?"
"At the dance."
"What did she do?"
"Ran into me in the toilets. Said a few things."
"What did she say?" asked Otis, trying not to be too desperately curious.
"Oh, it doesn't—" Ola began.
"I'm not going to be mad at her," Otis promised. "Or you."
Ola studied him for a moment then sighed. "She said you were inexperienced and a bit uncomfortable around, y'know, things to do with sex and I shouldn't take it personally if you didn't respond."
Otis relaxed, but his disappointment was clear. "She was trying to be helpful. She knows me pretty well, how I react."
"If she was trying to be helpful, she would have given you advice," Ola said, wryly.
Otis stared at her, unable to believe it, unwilling to get his hopes up.
"She likes you, Otis. You should tell her how you feel," Ola said.
"And if she doesn't feel the same way?"
"Then at least you know. And you can move on."
Otis thought for a moment then said quietly, "At least now I have her friendship. If me liking her makes her uncomfortable, I may not even have that."
"Isn't it a risk worth taking?" Ola asked, sympathetically. "Do you really think you can be just friends with her when you have these feelings for her? What if she gets another boyfriend?"
Otis pondered, the idea curdling his stomach and clenching his heart, then he looked at Ola, nodding.
"Why are you being so nice about this?" he asked.
Ola smiled gently. "Because you're my friend," she said.
Maeve looked up from her locker as Otis stepped up beside her. Aimee's words yesterday flooded through her and those butterflies that had seemed to take up permanent residence in her stomach were becoming vicious little beasts. She wished she could strangle each one personally with her bare hands.
"Morning," he said.
"Yes, it is," smirked Maeve, unable to look into his eyes.
"How was the rest of your birthday?" he asked.
"Unexpected," she said.
Otis took off his backpack and Maeve watched curiously as he reached into it.
"Well, I got you something," he said as he pulled out a small blue book and handed it to her.
Maeve felt the butterflies take another swoop around her stomach as she anticipated a special edition of one of the books Otis knew were special to her and then she felt the butterflies collapse in a heap as she saw the words on the cover.
"You got me a five-year diary?" she said, puzzled, hoping she could conceal her disappointment.
"Mm-hmm," Otis hummed, then reached out to open it for her, flipping through it. "And I ripped out all your birthday pages, so you don't have to celebrate one for another five years."
The butterflies took flight, she felt a rawness in her throat and she had to press her lips together and close her eyes to stop herself simultaneously grinning and crying.
This was better than a special edition of anything.
"Thank you," she said when she was finally able to speak. She still couldn't look into his eyes.
"That's all right," Otis murmured, wandering his gaze across her face, relieved that she seemed to like it. "I did get the impression that you weren't being entirely truthful about not liking people noting your birthday, but at least now you have a choice whether to celebrate it or not. Or whenever."
Maeve looked softly up at him and her tone belied her words. "You buy me another birthday present, I'll poke your eye out."
"I'll remember that," he said.
"You better," Maeve murmured.
"So do I have any clients this morning?" he asked.
"Yeah, morning recess and lunchtime," she said.
"Anything after class?" he asked idly.
"I've stopped bothering. I finally got the message that you probably can't do it and have been rescheduling."
"Well, if something turns up, you can book them in."
"Ola got something on today?" Maeve asked.
"You can probably start booking them in for the foreseeable future."
Maeve looked at him sympathetically. "Oh, yeah, she'll have the studying for the Aptitude Scheme. I'm sorry. I'm sure it'll be just a blip before she gets on top of things. It's a heavy load."
Otis leant against the lockers and gazed at the floor for a moment then looked into Maeve's eyes.
"We're not together anymore," he said, quietly.
Maeve felt as if her stomach was dropping through the floor and her heart was flying to the moon and she struggled to keep her face neutral and her voice non-hopeful and fuck, would those butterflies please fuck off.
"You broke up?" she asked.
Otis nodded. "We're still friends - well, we hope we can be – but it wasn't working out."
"Why not?" Maeve asked, then wondered if this was the sort of question she would have been asking last term. Was she giving herself away?
"We're not in love and… I don't know… I think I should be in love – we should be in love – and Ola does, too."
"How did you know you weren't in love?" Maeve asked, softly.
"I never felt the way I have in the past when I've been in love."
"You've been in love?" she asked and knew her attempt to conceal her hope with a tone of polite indifference had come out as sneeringly mocking.
"Yes," mumbled Otis, frowning, clearly offended. "Haven't you?"
Maeve studied him, not trusting her tone, her words or her mind. "Why do you want to know that?" she asked, hoping that would bring enough delay before she could find the tone she needed to use to do this right.
"No reason," Otis said, feigning indifference to hide the disappointment rising within him.
Maeve bit her lip from the inside and squeezed her eyelids together momentarily, cursing herself for crafting her carefully-developed survival persona so fully that at a time like this she couldn't seem to figure out how to rise past it.
Otis sighed internally and swallowed past a burning throat and cursed himself for even allowing a moment's hope to build within him.
He glanced past Maeve then mumbled, "I've got to see Eric about something. I'll… I'll see you later."
He started to walk past Maeve and she felt as if a fist was clenching around her heart and if she didn't try to salvage something now she would lose everything.
"Otis…?" she began, spinning to watch him leave then felt her courage slip away as he turned and looked at her.
"What?" he asked, puzzled.
Maeve chewed her lip, struggling to get the words out, feeling tears pushing for release.
"What?" Otis asked again, more subdued this time.
Aimee leaned against the lockers across the corridor, not realizing she was holding her breath in anticipation and with hope until a voice by her side startled her and she turned to see Ola standing beside her, looking at Otis and Maeve facing each other like gunmen in a showdown.
"What?" Aimee asked, trying to conceal her panic at Ola's presence.
"Does Maeve like Otis?" Ola repeated.
"Oh, oh," stammered Aimee, struggling for an answer.
"She looks like she likes him," Ola said.
"Oh, they're just friends. And the clinic thing. They'll be talking about the clinic thing. There's lots of things for them to talk about when it's the clinic thing," Aimee said, mind racing.
Ola frowned. "I don't know. Does that really look like them talking about the clinic thing?"
"It must be. I mean, what else would they be talking about if they're not talking about the clinic thing?" Aimee said, wishing Steve would come and rescue her.
"She could be telling him she likes him," Ola said, blandly, then looked at Aimee.
Aimee stared at Ola, swallowing, struggling to find something to say.
"I'm messing with you," Ola said, smiling. "We broke up."
"You dumped Otis?" Aimee asked, surprised and hopeful and relieved.
"Well, I think we kind of mutually dumped each other but technically… he dumped me."
"I'm sorry," Aimee said.
"Didn't take him long to move on. We only broke up yesterday," Ola said, watching Maeve and Otis.
Aimee felt her panic rising again. "That's… see, that's why they'll be talking about the clinic stuff. Otis will be trying to distract himself so he's not thinking about how lonely he feels. I've broken up with guys. I know what it feels like to need to distract yourself."
Ola pursed her lips, frowning. "What better way to distract himself than to tell the woman he loves that he loves her?"
"Otis loves Maeve?" Aimee asked, shocked and pleased.
"Yeah, that's why I told him to tell her how he feels," Ola said, smiling.
Aimee gasped. "I told Maeve to tell him how she feels. That means one of them will be telling the other they love them. Isn't that so romantic?"
"Hang on," said Ola and this time she really did sound annoyed. "I told Otis to tell Maeve how he felt because she was single. At least, I think she's single."
"She is," Aimee said.
"You told Maeve to tell Otis how she felt even though he was with me? That's pretty shitty."
"Do you love him?" Aimee asked.
"That's not the point," Ola said.
"Isn't it? If you loved someone, really loved someone, wouldn't you want to tell them how you felt so forty years later you wouldn't meet up with them and say 'God, I loved you back then' and he says 'I loved you. Why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have spent ten years in an unhappy marriage and the next thirty flitting from woman to woman never finding the right one.'"
Ola thought for a moment. "It's still shitty."
"Well, how would you deal with it then?" Aimee asked.
After a moment, Ola admitted, "I don't know."
Aimee looked over at Maeve and Otis again. "So do you think they are telling each other how they feel?"
"They're starting to seem pretty cozy," Ola said, thoughtfully.
"Who do you think went first?" Aimee asked.
"Maeve, because I know she's liked him for a long time," Ola said.
Aimee shook her head. "Otis, because Maeve… sometimes she doesn't accept how awesome she is."
Ola frowned at Aimee but kept quiet, not thinking it her place to ask.
She did think it was good to ask, "Do you want to make a bet on it?"
Maeve strode down the corridor, face pensive. She was brought back to awareness as she sensed someone striding by her side.
"Morning," said Aimee, brightly.
"Morning, Aimes," said Maeve, studying her friend's face. "How are you doing?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Really," Aimee said.
"Sure?" Maeve asked, gently.
"Uh-huh," Aimee said, then continued quietly, "Thanks for caring."
"Oh, Aimes," said Maeve fondly, curling her arm through her friend's arm.
"So, how's your morning?" Aimee asked, innocently.
"It's only just started," Maeve said, frowning as if thinking it an odd question.
"I know," said Aimee. "But things can happen even when the morning's just started."
"I suppose," murmured Maeve.
"Has anything happened this morning?" Aimee asked, as innocently as she could.
"Not that I can think of," Maeve said, pursing her lips, trying to think.
Aimee frowned.
"Of course, I could have forgotten something," Maeve said.
"You wouldn't forget an important thing," Aimee said, a little disappointed.
"No, I probably wouldn't forget an important thing," Maeve agreed.
Aimee sighed, "Yeah."
"Were you expecting something to happen this morning?" Maeve asked.
"No, I was just hoping there'd be something different than the usual this morning."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I was just hoping for something different."
Maeve looked at Aimee, frowning, then said, "Okay, my class. I'll see you later, okay?"
"Okay," said Aimee, disappointed.
She started to turn away then had an idea.
"Maeve," she called.
Maeve stopped in the doorway and turned then stepped aside to allow others to pass into the classroom. "Hmmm?" she asked.
"Do you want to come over this afternoon? I'm going to try to bake my second cake and… maybe you can help me."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I can't," said Maeve, looking and sounding genuinely disappointed.
"Babysitting again?"
"Yeah," Maeve said.
"That's okay. Bring Elsie with you. She'll be fine. She's adorable," Aimee said.
Maeve scrunched her face and said, "Sorry, I can't."
"Oh?" Aimee said, almost hurt.
"Maybe another day. Later this week?" Maeve said, trying to reassure her.
"Okay," Aimee said.
Maeve couldn't conceal her smile any longer. "I told my new boyfriend we could babysit her in the park."