Chapter XXVII

As Asking for Treble starts off with their performance of "We Don't Have to Take Out Clothes Off", Abby winces. God, this has always been one of those songs that's made her cringe: like cherry wine is really classier than taking one's clothes off?

"Apparently Fiona Brady is patient zero," Eric explains. "She had an orgy at music camp and it spread from there."

"The hell? Is this supposed to be American Pie Presents Band Camp," Abby asks.

"It is highly unlikely that this many people have chlamydia," Otis says. "I think this is a classic case of mass hysteria."

"Like that time everyone thought we'd get bombed by North Korea because of a Seth Rogen movie," Abby says. "Well, I mean, that was an American thing. For some reason, no one threatened the UK for Sex Lives of the Potato Men."

Of course, this acapella performance is particularly cringe-inducing for another reason: the three way girl fight on stage between Fiona, Martha and Gwen. Well, hell, the fight wouldn't have been so bad if not for the other a capella group members struggling to keep the show going in the backgroud.

Eric tskes. "They are butchering Jermaine Stewart," he comments.

So, really, when Otis gets a boner, Abby doesn't feel skeeved out by her boyfriend getting horny over this or turned on. Just relieved she has an excuse to pull him by the hand and walk out.

"Come on," she says, "Let's just go."

After all, the more time they waste in the assembly, the longer she has to look at the back of Conor's head and think about what that pervert said to her. Jerking off Otis isn't the same thing as telling him what's going on, but it's something. It means she doesn't have to think about how the other guys treat her now, and maybe that's enough.

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The last three months have been pretty shit for Maeve Wiley. Over winter break, there was a reprieve, because at least one friend would show up to the mall for her fifteen minute break. After all, considering the manager at Pretzel Parlor is some old geezer who always wants to spend break talking about 'kids today' and what her generation needs to learn, the option of spending time with literally anyone but him has helped her come to appreciate Eric. Hell, it was how she learned Eric can actually be a lot of fun. But now that school is back in, other than the occasional text, nothing really breaks up the monotony of her work day. Well, other than the pensioner who just has to have a ratio of 80 percent chocolate to 20 percent pretzel. She only wishes something, anything interesting would happen.

So when she see her mum pushing a pram of all things through the mall, Maeve can only say she should have been careful what she wished for.

She can't believe Mum went out and had another baby when she already abandoned two children. She can't believe Elsie's grandma actually let her mum have her back. She can't believe this woman is forcing her to think in italics. And of course, as soon as her mum sees her, she tries turning back around and running away.

Maeve ditches the pretzel stand as her boss calls after her, "Wiley, get back here."

She ignores him and chases after her mum, who runs away from her like Gabriel Hammond and Kanye West running from the NAACP. Maeve follows her mum halfway across the shopping center before finally finding her hiding (poorly) in a Shaws.

"I can see you," Maeve calls out from the other side of the window.

Erin Wiley pops up from behind a towel display. "Hi, Frogface," she says back with an all-too-casual smile. "It's me, Mum."

"Yes, I know who you are," Maeve says, annoyed. "What do you want?"

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"So," Eric asks Otis at his locker. "How was the handjob?"

"...Something," Otis says, his eyes slightly glazed over. "It was something."

Eric looks around and whispers, "She didn't blow you, right?"

"No," Otis says. "No, no, no." Unless he means blowing on my ear, which she did do, Otis thinks.

"'Sup," Abby says, popping in between the two.

"Holy crap," Eric says. "Do you want me to have a heart attack? How do you keep doing that?"

"Ancient Anglo secret," Abby says, grinning. "But seriously, both of you have questionable peripheral vision at best."

"Hey," Otis says, grinning.

"Hey," Abby says. "Fiona's looking for you. She cornered me outside the bathroom. I brushed her off, but..."

"Can I talk to you," Fiona says, running up to the trio. "Abby said you were busy but I think if you just heard me out, you would."

"I'm not really..." Otis starts.

Fiona takes a deep breath and begins. "Martha and Gwen are going to kick me out of acapella group if I don't own up to giving them chlamydia, but it's not me. I've been tested and I don't have it."

"I'm not giving out advice anymore, but I don't think anyone actually has chlamydia," Otis explains. "It's just mass hysteria."

Fiona shakes her head. "No, they definitely have it," she says. "They've been tested and treated, but they're convinced it's my fault, and now everyone thinks I'm a walking STI."

"I heard Fiona caught chlamydia from doing bukkake with five guys," one girl says as she walks past.

"Ugh, what a slut," her friend replies.

Fiona sighs. "Please," she begs. "This is so humiliating, I don't know what to do."

Abby looks at Otis, and she automatically knows that this little sabbatical until Maeve returns is definitely over.

"Okay," he says. "Um, this is Eric. He's in charge of appointments. He'll book you in."

"I don't have a diary yet, but I'll just use the natural organization skills of my brain," says Eric.

"Thank you," Fiona says, smiling.

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"Eric," chides Abby. "Eric, get down from there."

"Come on," Eric says to Abby as he dangles from the window outside the asbestos bathroom. "Don't you want to hear what's going on?"

"If we're meant to know, Otis will tell us later," Abby says, grabbing him by the hips. "Now get down before I pull you down."

"Abby, I may be a scrawny male, but you're a scrawny person," Eric says, hopping down of his own accord. "You don't have the physical strength required to carry a two year old, much less pull me off that ledge."

"...Touché," Abby admits. "How's he doing?"

"Why? Planning to fight Martha and Gwen," Eric asks. "Because I think you could take Martha."

"Look, just because I threaten to fight people doesn't mean I'll actually fight anyone," Abby says.

"But you should," Eric says. "You and Otis have the vibes of a boring, heterosexual version of Tyler Durden and the Narrator."

"...Eric, have you actually read Fight Club," Abby asks. "Because that is not good."

"I saw the trailer and some GIFs," Eric says, waving her off. "I tried to watch the whole movie but it got boring."

"To be fair, I'm not sure I finished the book," Abby admits. "I only read it because I liked Haunted and Damned."

"By the way, Otis is doing pretty good," Eric says. "Do you want me to take another peek to check up on him?"

"Nice try," Abby says, opening her lunchbox. "But instead we're going to snack on Haribo and mind our business."

"Hey," someone calls out. "Hey, Abby!"

Abby looks up from her lunchbox to see Kyle running up to them. He stops to catch his breath, clearly winded from his most recent bong rip. "Do you need to make an appointment," Abby asks. "Because you can sum up your problem to me, and then Eric'll..."

"No," Kyle says. "I just wanted to..." he stops to wheeze "...ask you something."

"Okay," Abby says.

"Would you wanna, like, go to Nando's with me after school," Kyle asks. "I...I know you have a boyfriend, but we could just hook up on the side. I've got this awesome new strain of sativa called..."

"No," Abby says.

"Actually, it's called 'Happy Happy Joy Joy,'" Kyle says. "My dealer says it's from some ancient cartoon called..."

"No," Abby says, more firmly. "I'm not going to cheat on my boyfriend to smoke pot with you behind Nando's."

Kyle coughs. "No, you don't understand," he says. "First we'd smoke at my place. Then we'd go to Nando's."

"How high are you," Eric asks. "She said no."

"But...but I dated Aimee," Kyle says. "And she's as hot as Aimee. So she should upgrade to me. Not for popularity, but, I mean, Aimee turned Otis down in year seven, but she dated me, so I'm better looking. You know, maths and that."

"Just go away," Abby says.

"Alright," Kyle says. "I can tell you're having a bad day. Later, then!"

He trots off as Abby and Eric stare after him. "Am I wearing some kind of pheromone," Abby asks. "A sign that says, 'Idiots, come hit on me'?"

"Having your hair out of your face has made you powerful," Eric notes. "But to all the wrong sort." He pauses. "Wait, it wasn't just Kyle and Simon, was it?"

"No, Conor wanted in as well," Abby says. "And his approach was just plain fucking disgusting. If he touches me, he's going to get decked." She rolls her eyes. "Apparently a lot of people are 'frothing at the gash' for him, which, last time I checked, men can't do."

"Wow," Eric says. "You're almost as popular as Ruby."

"...No wonder she's such a bitch," Abby says, shoving a handful of gummy bears into her mouth.

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"So, we've spoken to Luke Hanratty and Niall Spencer, and they've both been tested. They're clear," Otis says.

Abby rests her head on Otis' shoulder and stares up at him.

"Okay," Eric says, nodding.

"Martha only kissed Tom Baker, so we can cross him off the list," Otis goes on, as Eric jumps up and stares out of the common room windows. "Oh my God. Otis," he says. "Or Abby. One of you, look!" Instead, Otis goes over his notes as Abby absentmindedly counts the freckles on his neck.

"Either of you sods, look up," Eric hisses as the new boy walks past. Because sweet Lord. He's tall, and has a perfectly defined cupid's bow, and dear God, does he have swagger. It's like he's a transfer student from Paris Fashion Week. And someone this freaking hot bloody well deserves, nay, requires acknowledgment.

"What," Otis finally asks, after however the gorgeous specimen is has already passed by.

Eric puts his hands on his hips. "The hottest man I've ever seen just walked past me, and you two missed it because of chlamydia and level-fifteen simping!"

"This is important," Otis says.

"Attractiveness is subjective," Abby says, not looking away from Otis. "And Otis is my favorite subject."

"Abby, I'm about to be sicker than you were when Otis said he loved you for the first time," Eric says.

Abby pulls away and glares at Otis. "You told him about that," she asks, horrified.

"Did you tell Aimee and Maeve," Otis asks.

Abby shrugs and rests her head back on Otis' shoulder. "You got me," she admits.

"Anyway," Otis says. "There's only one more name on this."

Eric and Abby look down at the notepad.

"...Oh, fuck me," Abby groans.

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"If that fucker has been cheating on Maeve, and he gave her fucking chlamydia, I will break his fucking neck," Abby says as they storm toward the natatorium.

"Based on the notes, it was two weeks before he and Maeve were official. We're just going to ask him some questions," Otis says. "...And then if it's possible he's given Maeve chlamydia, I'll break his neck."

As Eric, Abby, and Otis walk toward him, he waves. "Hey, O-Town," he calls out. "Eric, Abby! How's it going? Nuts about this whole chlamydia thing, huh?"

"J-Dog," Otis says, forcing a smile. "About that...you hooked up with Martha and Gwen."

"...Not since Maeve and I..."

"Yeah, we know," Eric says. "But those girls got chlamydia from somewhere and..."

"Guys, come on," Jackson pleads. "We're friends. Do you really think this whole thing could be my fault?"

Otis looks down at his shoes. "This is just...we have to check every avenue, okay," he says.

Jackson nods. "Okay," he says. "Well, I did get tested. I'm totally clean. Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"Oh, thank God," Abby gushes, giving him a hug. "I was afraid I was going to have to stab you! You just gave all of us some peace of mind."

"...Stab," Jackson repeats.

"And just do me one more favor, please," Abby says. "On the off chance anyone on the swim team wants to ask me out, tell them Otis is one of your best friends, and that if they proceed with that knowledge in mind, I will be forced to stomp on their testicles. Sounds conceited, I know, but I'm not sure if Otis has ever had a frequent client on the team."

With that, the bell rings and Abby squeezes Otis' hand. "Later, guys," she says. "Gotta go to class!"

As she walks off, Jackson looks at Otis and Eric. "Why does she think anyone on the swim team wants to ask her out," he asks, confused.

"A lot of random guys have started coming onto her," Otis explains. "She probably just wants to cover all her bases."

"Why, though," Jackson asks. "She's been here four months."

Eric pats his shoulder. "Ever since she combed her hair out of her face, her appeal to 'extroverted white boys with social issues' has gone up two hundred. It's like She's All That, if it was starring the Inbetweeners instead of Freddie Prinze Jr."

"Oh, man, O-Town," Jackson says, patting his shoulder. "That sucks."

"Why," Otis asks. "I mean, lots of guys like Maeve. It's not a problem for you, right?"

"Yeah, but Maeve's used to the attention," Jackson says. "And I'm used to attention. You guys aren't. Don't worry, man. I'll see you later." Jackson turns back around as Otis and Eric walk away.

"What was any of that supposed to mean," Otis asks. "What does attention have to do with anything? Am I supposed to deck someone? Is this going to be like that bad Wattpad story you made me read where a girl fancied a guy from 5 Seconds of Summer, but Zayn kept harassing her, and then they had to kill him, and go on a road trip like The End of the Fucking World?"

"Holy shit," Eric says, cracking up.

"What's funny about any of this," Otis asks.

"Dude, you're erect again."

"Goddamnit."