Maeve finally caught up to Cassandra, grappling with her internal thoughts. "Should I keep following her? No, I need to step out of my comfort zone if I wanna see any real changes,". Summoning courage, she stood up from around the corner and quickly approached Cassandra's rear.
"Miss Davis!" she called out, her voice carrying a mix of determination and uncertainty. "Um Jennifer, can we talk for a sec?" This halted Cassandra's steps, leaving her standing in place, though she didn't turn around to face Maeve.
"You're the girl from yesterday," Cassandra remarked without turning. "I truly appreciate the assistance; I should've thanked you then, but I didn't have my wits about me. You will be rewarded accordingly, I assure you."
As Cassandra began to walk off again, Maeve, seized by a surge of courage, shouted out, "I LIKE YOU!" Instantly regretting her impulsive admission, she felt the weight of her words hang in the air. Her heart pounded in her chest, palms sweaty, face flushed, and knees beginning to betray her. The die had been cast, leaving Maeve standing in the vulnerable aftermath of her bold confession.
The words halted Cassandra once more. She half turned her head, and with a serene smile, she said, "I'm very fond of you as well child." As Cassandra prepared to continue walking, Maeve, overwhelmed by the weight of her feelings, reached out and grabbed her hand.
"No, you don't get it," Maeve pleaded. "I like you like you. Like, really like you. I've been wanting to tell you forever, but I was scared. Scared you wouldn't feel the same way, scared of rejection and what it might do to our friendship. I didn't know how you'd take it, you being a teacher and me being a student and all, but I can't keep these feelings bottled up anymore. It hurts to look at you every day and not be able to tell you. I just wanted you to know; I don't need an answer, but it would've eaten me alive if I didn't get this out." Maeve's earnest confession hung in the air, leaving an unspoken tension between them.
There was a pause, the tension thickening by the second. Cassandra pulled away from Maeve's hand, turned away, and spoke with an air of solemnity, "I'm not the woman you think I am." Another pause lingered before she continued, her words weaving a mysterious narrative, "There is a particular species of parasite that infects insects and other small woodland creatures. It corrupts the part of the brain that is responsible for the control of the feeling of love, turning the host into a mindless husk. When this infected creature comes into contact with a member of the opposite sex—and sometimes even the same sex—it lulls its target into a false sense of security, almost serenading them. The host becomes infatuated with its target, usually resulting in hot and heavy lovemaking. But after a few minutes, this comes abruptly to an end, and the host kills its target before killing itself."
Cassandra turned around to face Maeve, her gaze piercing. "Would you call this love, or infatuation?" The weight of her words hung in the air, leaving Maeve to grapple with the mysterious revelation Cassandra had unveiled.
Cassandra continued, her words gently unraveling the mysterious nature of the situation. "You're infatuated, darling. It's highly likely that my sudden change in appearance today must have stirred something in that particular part of your brain, like the parasite and the host." With an air of understanding, she leaned forward, patting Maeve on the head, and added, "Just give it a few days; this feeling will pass." Cassandra offered Maeve a warm smile, a subtle reassurance in the face of the complex emotions swirling through Maeve's head.
Maeve found herself at a loss for words, grappling with the unexpected rejection delivered with such grace. As Cassandra walked away, Maeve stood in the hallway, her thoughts swirling in a sea of confusion. "Infatuation? Is she joking right now?" Maeve thought. "Maybe she's right. Maybe it's just a stupid crush... but I've felt this way for so long. Can a crush even last that long? She said I like her because of the way she looks today; she couldn't be more wrong. Don't get me wrong, I love the new look, like really love the new look, but that's not who I fell for."
Pacing back and forth in the hall, Maeve's thoughts raced as she continued her internal dialogue. "I guess that was a rejection. Well, I'm fine with that; she doesn't need to like me back. But she just brushed it off as a silly little crush. At least, I think that's what that insect story was about? I don't know what these feelings are, but I know one thing for sure: this definitely isn't infatuation."
After a self-pep talk, Maeve found herself more determined than ever. The rejection wouldn't relegate her feelings to a passing fancy. Adjusting her bag over her shoulder, she followed the path Cassandra had taken, resolute in confronting the complex emotions that had surfaced.