I got a little drunk and watched the movie "Definitely, Maybe" and couldn't help but imagine what it would be like with the characters from Skins. So I started writing and this came out. I don't know how long it will end up being, or if I'll even continue it. I suppose that depends on if anyone wants me to keep going with it at all. If I do go on with it, it will follow the movie's general plot, with some obvious/major differences so it's a bit more 'my' story.

I run my fingers through my hair, pressing my eyes closed tightly. "No, I'm still here," I say wearily. "Tell me what, exactly, happened?" I listen closely to the voice on the other end of the phone, droning on and on and just not getting to the bloody point. I'm about to yell at Maya's teacher and tell her off when it occurs to me that that may not be the best idea. Everyone at her school already thinks I'm a terrible parent and confirming their beliefs that Maya inherited all her most stubborn and, to be quite frank, annoying traits from me would just cause more trouble. So I bite my tongue and roll my eyes as her teacher tells me that once again Maya had disrupted her class and stirred up quite a frenzy that has many of the other parents upset.

"You see, we feel that a ten year old has no business trying to, how shall I put it, enlighten her classmates, about, well," The woman sputtered and tripped over her words. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and slam the phone's receiver repeatedly onto the top of my desk.

"Lesbians, Mrs. Fitzgerald. Lez-bee-uhns," I annunciate, simply out of a mirthful spite. "I am a lesbian. My soon-to-be-ex wife is a lesbian. We raised Maya to understand that there is nothing wrong or shameful about that fact, and when we enrolled her in your prestigious," And bloody expensive, I think to myself, "academy, we were assured that it wouldn't be an issue of any sort."

Mrs. Fitzgerald laughs down the telephone, but there is no humor in it. "It's not the fact that Maya is proud of her parents, or the fact that you and your soon-to-be-ex wife are lesbians, that's the problem."

"Then I fail to see why I'm being called at my office in the middle of the day," I say bluntly, quickly losing patience.

"Ms. Campbell, the problem is that your daughter stood up in the middle of a classroom full of ten-year-olds and preceded to state, in a surprising amount of detail, exactly what it is that lesbians do that makes them lesbians."

My jaw goes slack and I can see my assistant, Abby, giving me a strange look through the glass door of my office. "What lesbians…"

"Do, Ms. Campbell," She finishes. "In the privacy of the bedroom."

"Ohmygod," I breathe, using every ounce of willpower I possess not to bash my forehead along with the telephone receiver against my desk.

"Yes. You can see why we, and most of the parents, are concerned. We thought about calling children's services, but given Maya's history and natural precociousness, we figured it was best to set up a meeting with her parents first."

"Of course," I say quickly, flapping my hand at Abby to come in. I start frantically scribbling a message on the corner of my notepad and hold it up for her to read as she walks to my desk. "I appreciate that greatly, Mrs. Fitzgerald, and I assure you, I have no idea whatsoever how Maya learned about," I scowl at Abby, who is almost doubled over in silent laughter after reading my note, "things like that." This sends Abby into an even bigger fit and I chuck the whole pad of paper at her back as she stumbles her way out of the office and back to her desk to phone my soon-to-be-ex wife. "So when is this meeting? I'll rearrange my schedule."

"I'm very glad to hear that," says Mrs. Fitzgerald. "First thing Monday morning. We feel it's best that this issue is resolved as quickly as possible. Maya told us that she was staying with you this weekend, so we figured it was prudent to let you know first. Would you like us to call Ms.-"

"No," I almost yell. "No, that's quite alright. I'll let my wife know. We'll both be there, first thing Monday morning."

"Good."

"And I'll sit Maya down tonight and talk to her about her behavior."

"Please do."

"Thank you again, Mrs. Fitzgerald. I appreciate your understanding in this matter."

"Yes, well, Maya is one of the most gifted students to ever grace our halls, and it would be a shame if her, ahem, precocious and inquisitive nature got in the way of her education."

"Yes, my thoughts exactly," I say, completely unaware of what I'm agreeing to, because I can see Abby holding the phone a good distance away from her ear and giving it a look like she's never seen anything quite like it before. I guess she got a hold of my soon-to-be-ex wife, then. "Thank you, again, and I'll see you Monday," I say hurriedly as I put the receiver back into its cradle, trying to end the call as quickly as possible. I groan and finally succumb to my embarrassment, letting my head fall heavily against my desk. "Jesus Christ, Maya," I mumble to myself.

My foot is tapping ridiculously fast as I wait at the bottom of the large set of steps leading up into Maya's school. Dozens of children are walking, running, and skipping past me, but there's no sign of Maya. Just as I start to worry, I see her head bobbing as she bounds down the steps towards me. She stops about two meters in front of me and her face scrunches up in a distasteful way. "Mrs. Fitzgerald called you, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did."

"You're going to yell at me, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am."

"Can we get ice cream first? It's easier to yell at me when I have ice cream."

The corner of my mouth twitches. "Easier for whom?"

"For you," She says as she takes a tentative step toward me. "I'll be too busy eating my ice cream to talk back. You can yell and I won't interrupt."

I lose the battle and smile widely at her. "I think I've got some strawberry back at the flat."

She grins and jumps forward, landing at my side.

"How about on the way home you tell me where you heard about, um, those things you were telling your classmates?" I ask as we start walking down the street.

"Oh," She says casually, "I just Googled 'lesbian'."

"Ah," I say, thinking that the first thing I'll do when I get home is install every fucking search engine and website filter I can find. "Didn't know you could use a computer."

She scoffs and turns her head up to look at me like I'm a simpleton. "Mum, everyone knows how to use a computer these days."

We're sitting on the sofa, watching a recorded episode of Britain's Got Talent and splitting the remnants of a pint of strawberry ice cream. I'm unsure how to approach the subject in a way that Maya will be able to understand. We had always taught her that having two mums was never something she should be ashamed of, and that the traditional idea of what constitutes a 'family' was changing every day and soon it wouldn't matter what sort of family you had, so long as you were loved. I just had no idea how to tell her that love and, well, sex were completely different things, with different levels of social acceptance. A commercial comes on and instead of fast forwarding through the break like I normally would, I mute the tellie and drop my spoon in the container. Maya turns her curious eyes to me. "Why did you want to know about lesbians?" I ask, figuring that there was no time like the present and this situation had to be discussed.

She shrugs and sucks on the spoon before popping it out of her mouth. "I was curious."

"So why didn't you just ask me?"

"Well you and Mummy are lesbians, but you don't like to talk about my Mummy, so I thought you wouldn't want to talk about being a lesbian either."

I can't help but chuckle. "She and I aren't the only two lesbians in the country, you know."

Maya giggles and takes the pint from me, digging her spoon in. "I know that. But a boy in my class said that you and my Mummy didn't count as a couple because couples have sex, and there was no way that you two could have sex because you were both girls."

My eyes grow wide. "What do you know about sex?"

"It's something a couple does when they're in love," She says through a mouthful of ice cream.

"Right," I say relieved. "Exactly."

"So you and my Mummy have sex."

I open and close my mouth a few times before I fold my arms across my chest and sink back into the sofa. "We're not talking about this."

Maya huffs and hits my leg with her empty spoon. "See? This is why I have to look on the internet for information! You never tell me anything." I roll my eyes but Maya is persistent. "I know you and my Mummy have sex."

"We don't have sex," I say defeated.

"But you used to."

I look at her and arch an eyebrow. "You really want to know about this?" She nods enthusiastically. "Yes, we used to have sex."

"Back when you loved each other."

"Yes."

"But you don't love each other anymore."

"No."

"So you don't have sex anymore."

"Right."

"So you don't have sex with anyone then, because you're not in love." I must hesitate too long to answer because Maya turns on the sofa to face me. "Who are you having sex with?"

"Right, then. Bedtime." I turn off the tellie and push myself off the sofa.

"But I'm not tired."

"Yes, you are," I say as I take the ice cream from her and head to the kitchen. I can hear her small bare feet following me out.

"No, I'm not."

"Well I am and I need to sleep too, so bedtime." I shoo her off as I drop the spoons into the sink and grab the lid to the ice cream off of the counter.

I can hear her banging about in the washroom, brushing her teeth, as I wash the spoons and set them in the drying rack. "Mum?" She calls.

"Yes?" I dry my hands on the bottom of my shirt and head across the flat. I lean against the wall as she rinses her mouth in the sink and then heads to her bedroom.

"How many other girls have you had sex with?" I roll my eyes as she starts digging through her drawers for pyjamas. "If you don't tell me, I'll Google it."

"You won't find that information on Google."

"Wanna bet?" She asks with a grin, straightening up, a shirt and shorts in her hands.

No, actually, I don't want to bet on that. "A few," I say coyly.

She looks surprised. "You've been in love more than once?"

I hesitate, but I know Maya and I know she won't drop this subject easily. "I've been in love three times."

"Wow," She says, tossing her pyjamas onto her bed.

"It's late, Maya. Get changed and go to bed," I say and close her door.

"You're not going to let this drop, are you?" I ask, running my fingers through my hair.

"Not until you tell me the story of who you loved before my Mummy and what made you fall in love with her," Maya said, adjusting her pillow behind her back.

I pull the covers up over her and tuck them in just under her arms before I sit down on the bed by her legs. "I fell in love with her because she was smart and beautiful and funny."

"And now she's stupid and ugly and boring?"

"Of course not," I sigh.

"Then why aren't you together anymore?"

"It's complicated."

"I bet it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No it's not. Just tell me the story. Explain it to me."

"No. It's late and you need to go to bed."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Tell-"

"Fine," I say, giving in. "But I'm changing the names. And some of the facts. And maybe a few dates and locations. You can figure the rest out on your own, and then we'll see just how clever you are."

"Okay," She agrees, all too easily. "It'll be like a love story mystery."

"Fine."

"Whenever you're ready, Mum," She says with a smile as she settles back against her pillow.

I watch her for a moment and then sigh. "Once upon a time…"