''Morning sunshine. You seem unusually chipper today.'' The suspicious voice of George booms through the bedroom walls. "I could swear you even giggled in your sleep at one point last night.'' Maya blushes.

''There is such a thing as invasion of privacy, you know,'' she mutters.

''Really Maya? Do I have to point out the irony in that statement coming from someone who is quite literally living in my belly?''

Maya ignores him and carries on following her Harmony Nice makeup tutorial. Honora introduced Maya to Harmony's videos when she was a twelve, having heard that Harmony might be a good role-model for a preteen witch from one of her friends. And Maya had been completely obsessed with her channel for a while. She supposes she could choose the makeup tutorial from someone less witchy now, but Harmony is a kind of cultural comfort zone, she is what Maya understands, and besides, with her thick hair and large features they actually look a little alike.

So Maya shades in the extra-thick eyebrows and adds the illusion of tiny hairs around the bridge of her nose, then she adds layers of dense, bright color to her lids and finishes with fake lashes and a cat's eye. The look is completed with decorative dots of white eyeliner in a pattern across her cheeks and temples.

Dang Harmony! she thinks, admiring herself in the glass. We may not see eye to eye on everything anymore, but your style is still banging, girl.  *That's Wiccan YouTube star Harmony Nice in the header

The thought of seeing Truman at school today has something to do with Maya's unusual enthusiasm for this Monday morning and the special care she has taken with her appearance. She has missed his mischievous smile for two days, and is excited to see him again so she is early to school and one of the first in the PSHE classroom.

While voices drone the weekend news around her, she pulls out her book and puts her head down, determined not to seem too eager for him to arrive. Still no Truman. Just when she is about to swivel around in her chair to look for him, Dean Markowitz calls out from the front of the classroom.

"Truman! Mate! How was your weekend? Come sit here next to me dude. Yeh, that's right Jasper, you fuck off. There is a seat right there next to Maya.''

Truman sidles past Maya's desk, turning to give her a weak smile as he goes and a hulking lump of inadequacy and disappointment plummets into Maya's stomach. The effect is only worsened by the appearance of a reluctant Jasper in the seat next to her.

''Mornin', Maya,'' he says around the sides of the lollipop he is sucking. "Thanks again eh. Yer mum were amazin'. Sor'ed me right out with some kina salve, she called it. I got it 'ere in me bag if you're in'rested.'' He starts digging around in his bag before she cuts him off with a curt:

''I'm not, Jasper.''

''Suit yerself.'' He looks up at her and his eyes widen in response to her makeup.

''Cor, Maya. You look WELL fit today. Fancy a shag sometime mebbe?''

Seriously? Today can just piss right off as far as she is concerned.

Maya's next classes go about as well as the first. Truman walks to class with Dean, who turfs a sequence of people out of their chairs for him. In turn those people turf more people lower down the social chain out of their seats until Maya is left with the class's worst low-life as her partner. Well, the class's worst low-life other than herself.

In Biology she gets dough-faced, goggle-eyed Aoife Palmer who keeps staring weirdly down Maya's cleavage. In MFL it's Dylan Hobart who picks his nose surreptitiously with his left hand like he thinks she can't see him.

By lunchtime, the insult of Truman having not sat with her has far been overtaken by the horror of the other desk-mates she has had to endure, and Maya is in a foul mood as she takes a seat opposite Carmen in the lunchroom.

''What d'ya think?'' Carmen asks Maya as they tuck into their beans on toast. Her posture is provocative, her expression self-satisfied, but besides that, she looks exactly the same. Maya struggles to ascertain what exactly she is supposed to be commenting on.

"Err... new.... black jacket?" she asks, eyebrows raised.

"Naw silly. I've had this one fer ages! It's me skin ye twat. Yer mum gave me sum o'that soap she made, and her lotion too. I feel like million quid teday!'' Maya considers Carmen's skin thoughtfully. It is possible that she has a couple fewer pustules than usual, yes. Mostly she is just relieved that the guessing is over.

''Good for you!'' She says, with genuine enthusiasm, her eyes sliding off past the side of Carmen's ear to where Truman has sat down at the popular table, facing in their direction. He looks up and his eyes meet with Maya's. He seems to want to say something, but realizes she is too far away for her to hear him, and at that moment, Holly Mather, who is sitting beside him, puts her hand on his arm to get his attention.

It's the final nail in this coffin of a day and Maya springs up from her seat, a mouth still full of food.

''Sorry Carmen, I gotta go, I've er... got the runs.'' It's the only thing she can think of to explain the hastiness of her departure.

She ditches her lunch tray and rush out the back of the school, parking herself down on some steps near where the river trail begins. Elbows rested on knees, she covers her face with clenched knuckles. She is so used to rejection she knows she shouldn't be upset. What is one more? But she is.

The watery sun that has been shining on her face is suddenly extinguished by shadow and the thud of a boot right next to Maya's leg startles her hands from her eyes. Reese Norris is standing barely inches in front of her – his one leg up on the step beside her like a colonial hunter posing over an elephant he has just murdered. His junk directly in front of her face.

''Are you still so keen to have a go at my balls?'' he asks smugly.

His closeness is nauseating, but it's not easy for Maya to slide away. If she stands straight up she will just about brush her chest against his, if she tries to slide forward she will have to duck to avoid her face coming into contact with his groin and the stairs are at her back.

''What is your problem, Reese?'' she moans. Of all the days for Reese to give her a hard time. Did it really have to be today?

''My problem, Maya? Is that I have this itch that needs scratching, a sickness that needs fixing. Isn't that your job? Fixing things?''

''Reese, for what you need fixing, you need to see a shrink,'' She spits. He leans in towards her, as if he is going to say something – or possibly even try to kiss her, and Maya leans back, turning her face quickly away. At that moment, Truman comes wandering down the path towards them, his school bag slung casually over his shoulder, one hand wedged into the front pocket of his jeans.

''Hey Maya. Hey Reese,'' he says pleasantly, joining them if it is the most normal thing in the world.

Reese steps back slightly and Maya grabs the opportunity to scuffle sideways on her bottom, a sort of awkward crab-walk that allows her to get far enough away from him to scramble to her feet.

''Truman.'' Reese lifts his chin in acknowledgement but doesn't meet Truman's eyes.

''Maya I was wondering if I could have a word?'' Truman asks me. Maya nods, and they both look pointedly at Reese who shrugs and walks off with a scowl.

''Hi,'' he says quietly. ''I was looking for you at lunch. Your friend said you had diarrhea.'' Maya makes a mental note to punch Carmen later. ''So, I came looking for you by the girl's bathroom. I waited... and I waited....'' The mental note is amended to two punches. ''Anyway, luckily I saw you out here from the passage, through the glass doors.''

''It was, er... a false alarm,'' Maya replies, wondering if that isn't actually worse. ''Anyway, what's up Truman?'' Her palms are dirty from sliding along the ground and she claps them together to dust them off.

''I felt bad about class this morning, you know. Not sitting next to you.'' He scratches the back of his neck nervously and Maya considers how adorable she would find it if she wasn't so mad at him.

''Whatever, Truman,'' she says. ''It's a free world. You can sit with whomever you want to sit with. I know you miss your whole posse thing from your old school. It's ok,'' she lies.

''Thanks, but it's not really.'' He looks so uncomfortable that Maya feels an urge to lean over and stroke his hair. ''The thing is – it's rough being new. I feel like I can't really turn down invitations from people. They might lead to new friends and you and I are... we are already right? Friends I mean.''

Maya knows that what he did sucks, but also, he is human. She can't help herself. She cracks a tiny smile.

''Sure,'' she capitulates. ''Sure. We are friends.''

Truman's face breaks into a broad, open grin. "Awesome!'' he exhales, ''because my mom told me I should ask a friend over for dinner tomorrow night and I was wondering if you would like to come.''