Archive of Our Own

Maya is in Texas when Lucas kisses her for the very first time. Riley has just left, but her words still weigh in the air around them. The campfire suddenly makes her feel too warm, and she’s angry at Riley for assuming something she’s not even sure herself, and she’s embarrassed and hot and frustrated and Lucas is just standing there, looking just as lost as she feels. 

She can feel her heart beating in her chest, so loud and obnoxious that she moves all the way across from him, hoping the crackling of the fire will drown the chaos inside of her. But he keeps looking at her, and she keeps telling him to stop because it’s too much too fast and she doesn’t think she can handle all of this right now. 

Maya looks at the fire, watching the flames burn high as she pretends she can’t feel the weight of his eyes on her. She thinks that if she just looks at it for long enough, her thoughts will make sense again, and she’ll realize she doesn’t have any feelings for Lucas, that when he had fallen earlier that day and she had stopped breathing, it was because he is her friend . 

Because he is supposed to end up with Riley, her best friend who loves her so much that she stepped back the second she thought Maya might like Lucas. Maya needs to tell her that she was wrong, that Riley and Lucas are just a matter of time and everybody knows it, that Maya doesn’t like him because she doesn’t like him . 

But Lucas is staring at her again, and her head is trying to tell her something, trying to warn her, but her heart is beating so franticly against her ribcage she’s afraid it will jump out of her body and spill all of her secrets, and she’s trying to control it, to do the right thing, but now he’s standing up and so is she and they’re so close and she can’t even reproach that her last line of defense was yelling at his face because now he’s holding her. 

His hands cup her face and she gasps. If she could see anything other than his green eyes and the freckles spread across his nose, she would see the stars shining above them. So many stars she has never been able to see in the New York sky, burning celestial bodies that she would ache to capture in a painting. 

And if she could feel anything other than his hands on her, Maya would feel the warmth from the fire, wrapping her in a blanket of elation and curiosity because Texas had surprised her in every possible way. But as it is, she can’t feel anything that isn’t his breath on her face, the gap between them closing. 

And when his lips meet hers, she can’t see any stars because there are supernovas exploding in her brain, any logic or coherent thought vanishing from her mind when his hands travel to her neck. 

He smells like burnt wood and he tastes like marshmallows and something else she can’t quite describe, and his lips are hot against hers and she feels stupid for thinking the campfire was burning her, because now she’s melting into him and flames are creeping out of her skin and she is just so intoxicated that when they finally break apart they’re both panting. 

If asked later, when the fire has died and she can process information again, Maya would judge kissing him again a bad idea. Because it is, and she knows the many reasons why this is wrong and how in the end they are going to regret every decision made tonight because hearts are meant to break and feelings are meant to scar. 

But she’s the personification of bad ideas, and when he kisses her again, the fire inside them could have very well turned everything into ashes, and she knows she would do it all again. 

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Everything is out of place after that. They’re awkward around each other, to say the least. There are no more nicknames or banter or teasing and they can’t look each other in the eye. Maya desperately wants to call him Huckleberry and have him roll his eyes at her, or pick on his imaginary cowboy hat. She wants to go back to the way things were before, but the memory of that Texas night seems to be tattoed on their skin, a constant reminder, and now their relationship revolves around trying to forget.

And worst of all there’s Riley. Riley, who Maya would die before letting anything bad happen to her, who would do the same for her. Her soulmate, her sister, her best friend. Riley, who has liked Lucas since the first moment she saw him. 

And now she is in a fucking love triangle with two people who mean the world to her, and if it wasn’t so daunting she might laugh, because love and Maya are not things that usually go well together. She wishes she could take it back, the kiss, the aftermath, all of it. She wishes she could fix things. 

But she’s not a fixer, Riley is. And if she can’t fix this, then there’s saying something. Maya is scared, because the little glint of hope she has inside of her was given by Riley, and she treasures it more than she could ever say, almost as much as she treasures their friendship. And she’s guilty, because Riley’s gift, the hope that shyly blazes within her heart, is the one thing that is keeping her from pulling back. 

The memory of the kiss replaying in her head over and over again, the butterflies in her stomach when she and Lucas forget the consequences and bluntly flirt with each other, when his fingers tug her hair behind her ear, every small and sacred moment she can’t let go because there is this minuscule possibility that they could . 

But she can’t risk losing what it is with what could be. And what it is is that Riley is sunshine, she’s golden and she’s light. Riley has so much hope she taught Maya how to grow some. She’s complex and, yes, she has flaws because she’s human but she’s human in the best way someone could ever be. Riley is compassion and kindness and happiness and love. 

And Maya loves Riley, and she wants her to be happy more than anything, and she knows being with Lucas would make her so happy because Lucas is Saturday morning. He’s the wind and he is the cup of coffee after a long day. Lucas is passionate and loyal and brave and rough around the edges but with a heart bigger than all of New York City. He’s the one book you always keep at your bedside table and still don’t know the ending, and Maya knows that with Riley it’s a happy one. 

She wishes she could be selfless enough to step back, she wishes she could kill the butterflies and fake a smile and let things fall into their natural order. She sort of wishes Riley wouldn’t be so understandable, as if her friend deemed her selfish she would realize she actually is and stop this nonsense once and for all. She wishes Lucas wouldn’t comfort her or make her laugh or look at her the way he does. 

And most of all, Maya wishes she could stop wanting things she can’t have. 

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They decide they’re just friends, but they don’t talk about it. 

Riley is the one who steps back, actually. She’s the one who approaches them both while they’re studying at the library (or rather, Lucas failed attempts to try to teach her physics), and she holds her hands out. Maya takes it instinctively, and when Lucas does the same after a beat, Riley smiles. 

She tells them she loves them. And then she tells them she’s out, that the triangle is over. She tells them that Maya is her soulmate and no boy, girl, or cosmic event could ever change that, and if Maya’s head would stop spinning she might have cried. She tells Lucas she loves him as a friend, and nothing more, and Maya sees him squeezing her friend’s hand while a warm smile spreads across his face. 

For a moment everything is quiet, Riley’s words once again weighing the air around them. Riley stays with them for another moment, their hands still between hers, and then she leaves. She gets up and walks away from them, as if she is physically proving there is no triangle anymore.  

And this is so different from the last time she stepped back, because this time she means it, Maya knows that. She’s seen how Riley has changed in the past few months, growing into her own person instead of doing things just because she was expected to. She has seen her laugh, and dance, and joke just like she always has but also just for the sake of it. It just never occurred to her that those changes would concern Lucas as well. 

It makes sense, of course. If Maya weren’t so busy with the guilt and the awkwardness and the frustration she might have noticed how Riley was more in love with the idea of Lucas and their possible Corey and Topanga kind of relationship than with actual Lucas. 

Not that it matters now. Because right now she can’t think of anything, she can’t even notice how the boy sitting next to her has his eyes carved on her, because there is only one flashing, dangerous thought in her mind: she could kiss him again. 

She wants to do it, she wants to do it embarrassingly so. And she wants him to want her back, and she wants so many things that she almost doesn’t want anything at all but it doesn’t matter right now because Riley just walked away and now there is a real possibility for her and Lucas. 

Except that she’s aware he’s looking at her now, and he always seems to be looking at her and she doesn’t know what to do being exposed like this. And she wants to kiss him again and she wants to talk about them, she does, but she can’t . She just can’t because she knows how this is gonna end and she doesn’t think her heart can take it. 

Lucas is good. He’s good in a way she’s never seen before. And she can dream and hope and want as much as she’d like but it will never change the fact that Maya was born on the wrong side of the tracks. People leave and she has scars all over from carrying their ghosts with her. She’s just a little too much broken, with too much baggage. Just too much… wrong. 

So when her eyes finally find his, she doesn’t think and she does her best to not pay attention to the look on his face and says:

“So, friends?” hoping her voice doesn’t crack and the tears don’t fall. 

Maya does notice the smile fading from his lips, the frown growing, and the hurt in his expression, and she bites her lips to keep her from crying or saying something she will regret. Because being friends with him might kill her, but it will keep him in her life for a little longer and she’s selfish, but she’s also not ready to say goodbye. 

Lucas barely nods, but that’s all she needs. Maya gathers her things surprisingly fast, mumbling something about being late and seeing him tomorrow, not that he’s paying that much attention, his eyes looking foggy and sort of lost under the library light. Maya leaves him there, and she doesn’t cry until she’s home. 

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They’re in high school now, and Maya still catches herself wondering when will she wake up because it seems so unreal. But she’s happy, she’s proud , and more often than not she wishes she could keep living this dream. Her friends are with her, and they’re all figuring stuff out and it’s hard and new but she loves it just as much as she loves them. 

On their first week, Maya calls Lucas Huckleberry for the first time after so long, and when he smiles at her, all boyish and cheerful, her stomach does a backflip and her heart clenches inside her chest. But then he tips his imaginary cowboy hat, and it feels like it used to. It feels like they’ll be okay. 

Even if Maya has to kill some butterflies to do so. 

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“Please groan if you’re awake” 

If Maya could move without her body screaming in agony, she would turn her head. But she can’t, and she recognizes his voice and groans indeed, because what the hell is he doing here? 

She fell asleep on the couch last night after texting him she was okay - which was a lie -  and woke up with her brain still melting inside her skull, her skin still burning from the inside, and her lungs still aching whenever she coughed. Lucas sits next to her crumpled body, placing a plastic bag on the coffee table while giving her a look that says “you’re full of shit”. 

She would roll her eyes if she didn’t fear they would pop out of her face. 

“You told me you were feeling better.” He says, raising his eyebrows at her. So that’s why he’s here, Maya figures. He’s babysitting, and she does roll her eyes at that, wincing but still annoyed because he needs a better hobby than smothering her. He only sighs and starts to open the paper bag he brought when she points that out to him. 

He brought soup, ginger ale, Gatorade, aspirin, and a whole sick kit, and if it weren’t for her stupid pride she would give him heart eyes for a week, but what she says instead is “I’m fine, it’s just a headache”. She proceeds to try to prove him wrong by standing up in one motion, which was a bad, bad idea because now the room is spinning, and she’s not sure if everything is supposed to go dark, and she wants to say “catch me” but she can’t so she just closes her eyes, picturing the moment she’ll hit the ground. 

The moment never comes tough. She feels something around her waist holding her up. The touch around her it’s cool, a relief on her hot skin, and she leans into it. Maya still has her eyes closed, but she can hear things like “it’s okay” and “I got you” and when she feels the cushions under her she opens them to find Lucas staring at her, his face worried, any trace of smug gone as he still holds her close to him. 

And they’re close . He has that look in his eyes that makes her feel like every nerve in her body is about to catch on fire and he’s here and he cares and suddenly she doesn’t want to fight anymore. So she stops. She lays her head on his shoulder and mumbles “Fine” or something like that and just lets him take care of her. 

Maya decides that it’s nice, having someone like this. Sure, she has her mom, and she loves her so much and is so thankful for everything she’s done. And she has her friends whom she adores, and the Matthews who are and will always be her family. But her mom has to work, and Farkle and Zay are not exactly delicate with this type of situation, and she’s not the Matthews’ kid and Riley takes things to a whole other level. 

But it’s different with Lucas, as most things are when it comes to him. Because, yes, they’re friends, good ones. And it’s hard and complicated sometimes because whenever she smells burnt wood she remembers every detail of that night, but they’ve managed to fix things and become even better friends than they were before. And he’s good at this kind of stuff, taking care of other people. He makes her food, gives her tons of water, adjusts her blankets, lets her pick the movie, and stays with her the entire night. 

 And she’s finally comfortable after spending the entire day in pain, and barely registers that this will not help her un like him. And if she falls asleep with his arms around her and her head on his chest, it’s because she is sick. And if she feels like she’s melting, she can blame the fever. 

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She’s drunk. Very drunk. She’s sweating, the room feels too hot with so many people in it, and she’s breathing sharply after dancing for so long that her feet hurt. But she’s happy, the alcohol flowing through her body and making her feel giddy. Maya walks through Jordan Kyle’s living room, bumping her shoulders with strangers, not sure where she’s going. 

Farkle had bailed twenty minutes after they arrived, the last time she saw Zay and Riley they were kicking everybody’s ass in beer pong, and she has no idea where Lucas is right now. But she doesn’t care that much, she’s just moving her body and enjoying her buzz. 

A hand catches her upper arm from behind, and she’s turning before she can make sense of her surroundings. Part of her thinks she should worry, but the spinning makes her feel dizzy and she just can’t bring herself to. She doesn’t have to, though, because when she lifts her head she finds the green eyes she’s so familiar with looking down at her. 

The corners of his lips turn upwards, and he looks amused, if not a little relieved. It’s dark inside the house, but Maya can see the twinkle in his eyes. He’s still holding her arms, and his hands feel firm on her bare skin and she thinks she would be smiling like she is now even she if was sober. 

“Hey, Shortstack” He says, raising his voice so it isn’t drowned by the music. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you”. He doesn’t sound mad, - he’s Lucas - just glad that he’s finally found her. She can hazily remember him yelling in her ear moments ago, when they were dancing and he told her to stay where she was while he’d get her some water. She didn’t stay where she was, that much is obvious now. 

“I’m hot!” She yells, because she is and she doesn’t feel like apologizing for having fun, even if Lucas is the last person who would call her out for it. She fans herself with her hands, and his smile widens before he asks: “Wanna go outside for a minute?”

She nods and he starts walking towards the door, holding his hand out to her, and she takes it without questioning, thankful for the extra balance. They reach the balcony, strangely empty, at the back of the house, and Maya takes a deep breath when a cold breeze blows through them, shivers running down her spine. 

They’re still holding hands, she notices. If this was any other night, she would let go, brush it off with a joke or a nickname. But she’s not really herself tonight, and the world feels lighter and more forgiving. Maya feels airy, as if all of her baggage and her ghosts don’t pull her to the ground, and she holds his hand a little tighter.  

Jordan’s balcony is small, the wooden floor creaking under their weight. There is a chair standing in the corner, and Maya considers sitting down for a second, but the view is capturing her attention, and her hands long for a brush because to say the night looks breathtaking would be the understatement of the year. 

She can’t see the stars in New York, but the lights from the city look so tiny from where she’s standing that Maya is taken back to the one night where the stars shone the brightest. Lucas puts his arm around her shoulder and brings her closer to him, like he’s remembering the same thing. 

There’s still a small voice in the back of her head telling her to step away, to quit while she’s ahead, but he feels warm against her side and they just seem to fit together. Maya is still staring at New York City and its own stars, but Lucas is like a magnet, begging her to see him under the light of the city she loves. 

When she looks up, she finds him already looking at her. She can’t read him like this, when the world is fuzzy and his eyes are enticing and tender at the same time. She’s working on half a brain and she feels brave and inconsequential, so she doesn’t even take a deep breath before she throws her arms around his neck. 

His hands travel to her waist like it’s second nature, holding her tight. Maya pulls him down a little, and everything is warm and she can feel his breath on her face. She wonders if this is how it’s always gonna happen between them. When it’s dark and there are only the starts to keep their secret.

But then he stops getting closer, and the tiny voice becomes a raw scream in her mind because she is so fucking stupid. “Maya” he breathes, and she looks away, trying to get away from his hold because rejection feels just as bad as she remembered, but he won’t let her go. 

“Look at me.” He says it so softly she doesn’t have a choice. The smile on his lips doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “When I kiss you again, I want you to remember it.”

The air is knocked out from her lungs, and she spends what feels like an eternity trying to remember how to breathe. Lucas is still looking at her, still holding her, and she wants - no, she needs - to say something, but her mouth opens and closes and nothing comes out. 

She wants to tell him that she’s never been more sober or awake in her life. That if he kisses her she wouldn’t be able to forget even if she was dead. But instead she says “Okay”. Barely a whisper, but he listens. He lets her go then, and tells her to wait while he finds the rest of their friends so they can go home. 

He tells her to not disappear this time. It’s a joke, but all she can do is nod. It’s not like she could move anyway. And so he leaves, the wind and the city doing nothing to ease the hole opening up inside her chest. 

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Maya is seventeen. 

She’s sitting on the fire escape outside her room, the metal under her ass is uncomfortable and she’s shivering from the cold, but she doesn’t move. The Matthews have just left, and she should be helping her mom, Lucas and Zay cleaning up, but it’s her birthday so she can skip it this time. 

Maya takes a deep breath, wrapping her arms around herself and wishing she had brought her jacket. Seventeen , she thinks. The number seems to be flashing in her brain, and her heart races when she thinks about it for too long. Everything feels distant now, like the fact she’s about to start senior year, and next year there’s college (if she even applies) and then jobs and the rest of her life . She’s growing up, and she doesn’t think she’s excited because all she wants right now is for time to slow the fuck down. 

“We’re done cleaning up if you want to go back inside and stop your ass from being frozen.” Lucas’ head pops up outside the window, a shit-eating grin on his face. She rolls her eyes as he steps out of her room with something in his hands, and sits next to her. He places a jacket on her lap. “My ass is just fine, thank you.” She says as she wraps it around her bare arms. 

Lucas laughs, shaking his head and tucking his hands in his pockets. No matter how long he’s lived in New York, he’s never gotten used to its cruel winters. Maya moves closer to him so their tights are touching, looking for warmth because pride is a bitch and she will not admit she is freezing too. He doesn’t say anything. 

They sit for a few minutes in comfortable silence, until Lucas starts shuffling in his seat, probably from the cold. “What are we doing?” He asks, no doubt wanting an answer that would mean he could go back inside. Maya smiles. 

“Nothing.” He looks down at her with his eyebrows raised. “I’m just holding you back from achieving things in life by forcing you to sit here.” It takes a second before he laughs under his breath, and he bumps his shoulder on hers, the touch making things feel less distant than they did five minutes ago. 

“How does it feel to be seventeen?” He asks after a beat. 

“Uhmm,” Maya taps her finger on her chin, pretending to think really hard about his question. “I feel closer to death now.” She laughs when she sees the expression on his face, all scared and worried. 

“Really?” He asks. “I thought you got taller. You almost reach the door handle now.” He places his hand a few inches above her head, and she flips him off after taping it away. But he’s smiling, so she can’t be mad even if she wanted to, especially because he says:

“No, I’m kidding.” Lucas looks down at her, his hand falling behind her back when he shifts his position. “You look great.” He looks her up and down, from head to toe (or toe to head?) and she thinks that if he looks at her any harder he might drill a hole in her head. “You always look great.”

Maya turns away before he can see her blush, and if he does see it she can blame it on the cold. He’s been doing that a lot lately, since Jordan Kyle’s party last year (the one she acts she doesn’t remember but it’s actually engraved on her mind). They’ve always flirted, even when it was weird and awkward and they were fourteen and in a triangle. But it has always been harmless, friendly. 

It doesn’t mean anything , it’s what she tells herself. Because even if it did mean something more at one point (which definitely, absolutely does not anymore), they’ve decided to stop with all of that. So she keeps his double-meaning comments in a box with that Texas night and Jordan’s party, safe in a locket only she has the key. 

But Lucas is a pickpocket who stole way more than she’d ever intended to let him, and he compliments her and he has that wondering look in his eyes, like she is a shooting star and he needs to memorize every detail before she fades away. And now she’s looking at him, and when I kiss you again and I want you to remember begin to fuss her mind, her toes curling inside her boot as her heart drops to her stomach. 

His freckles are fading now that summer is gone, and his lips are pink from the cold, but his eyes are that one shade of green she can never capture. Maya thinks she will float away at any second, her doubts and fears carrying her out of here and into the deep well they call home, and Lucas is a rock tied at her ankle. She doesn’t know if she wants to let go or hold on for dear life. 

“I wanna try something” He says, and turns his body so his front is completely facing her. She nods, not trusting herself to speak, and turns as well so they’re face to face. He leans in. Close, so close. 

The message is clear, it’s written in highlights and covered in glitter and it should look like a gleaming stop sign but it doesn’t. His hand find her cheek, cupping her face and somehow pulling her even closer so their foreheads are touching and their noses brush against each other. 

And then he kisses her. 

It’s small, soft, his lips on hers not nearly long enough for her to taste him, but she melts . She has kissed before. She kissed boys who were too hungry for their own good, who looked at her as if she was a cheap meal they both knew would never be enough to satisfy them. She’s kissed boys who were as drunk and stupid as she was and didn’t recognize her the next day. 

But none of them matter tonight, because right now Maya is in Texas again, and she is fourteen and Lucas Friar just gave her her first kiss and there are fireworks on her mind, and her heart will explode and she has tingles she’s sure will last the whole night. His breath is fanning on her face, his eyes flick at her lips before he stares at her again, and she doesn’t have the capacity to read him right now. 

“Maya-” He whispers, and she closes the space between them before he says anything else, searching for her fireworks, for the campfire, for him. His hands travel down her back, pulling her to him, and she grabs him by the collar, wanting no space between their bodies. It feels desperate, his tongue finding her mouth and her body curving into his when he does so.

Lucas moves down to her cheek, pressing soft kisses that make her head roll back, He uses the space to his advantage, trailing his lips to her jaw, her neck, her collar bone. Her hand wraps in his hair, tugging it, and he makes a throaty sound that fills her completely. He finds the small of her back, his fingertips press under her top, and she gasps. His head flips up from the sound, coming up and crashing his mouth on hers so fast her breath gets stuck in her throat. 

He tastes like cake and that one thing she still can’t describe, and Maya wonders if warm will always be the word she thinks of when she thinks of him. They’re still kissing, open-mouthed, and grabbing each other because it’s impossible to be any closer than they are now, when “Lucas, c’mon we’ve gotta go!”. 

Zay’s voice sounds like an alarm, and they break away in a second, but he’s still holding her and their foreheads are still touching. They’re both breathless, and she thinks she should let go of his collar or stand up and get inside or do something , but she’s paralyzed. 

And then he smiles, and Zay is calling him again, child-like and impatient, and she’s just kissed the boy she likes and this is so confusing but he’s flashing her that smile she likes so much that Maya can’t stop herself from laughing. His smile widens and he leans back a little, hand still on her waist. 

“Happy Birthday, Maya.” She can’t help the smile on her face. “Thanks, Ranger Rick.” She nods, and it feels stupid because it feels like she’s thanking him for kissing her, but he chuckles and the wondering look is still in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, but she cuts him off before he says something she’s not ready to hear. 

“You should go.” She tilts her head to the window. “Before Zay starts looking for you”.

Lucas nods, the shade of a smile still on his face, and gets up. Maya doesn’t move, she suspects she’ll sit here for a long time. He starts walking towards her window, and he’s halfway inside her room when he stops and turns around to look at her. They stare at each other for a minute, for an eternity. And then he smiles again, soft and bright, and she feels her heart in her ears. 

She exhales sharply when he gets inside, thankful for the clear view to mask away how close she was to ask him to come back and kiss her again. 

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It’s not that she’s actively looking for trouble, but now trouble is six feet tall with green eyes and messy hair, and she’s not exactly avoiding it either. At first, Maya is set on forgetting the whole thing. She tells herself it was a one-time thing, just something they were always curious about and now it’s done, it’s over. 

But then they have a study session one week, and they’re sitting on the floor of her bedroom and she couldn’t care less about problems and equations because the memory of his lips on hers is burning in the back of her mind. Maya thinks Lucas’s eyes will truly be the death of her, because the way they travel through her body makes her feel breathless, and that afternoon was no different. 

So she kissed him, and even now, she can’t find an answer that explains why. Maybe because no boy has ever made her feel the way he does, maybe because she has wanted to do that for three years, or maybe she did it just because she could. Either way, he kissed her back, and they made out on her bedroom floor until she heard the front door open. 

And so it began. The looks from across the halls, the sneaking around, the study sessions where they don’t bother to bring their books. When Maya is not kissing him, or thinking about kissing him, when his hands aren’t around her, she feels a weight sitting uncomfortably on her chest, and she thinks it will drag her through the floor whenever she sees Riley. 

Because Maya and Riley don’t lie. Not to each other at least. But now half the things that come out of her mouth are a lie, and she hates it, she absolutely hates it. But then Lucas is whispering in her ear, and he’s kissing her neck, and he makes her laugh and he tastes like mint, and she thinks she just can’t tell Riley. She doesn’t know where “secretly hooking up with your best friend’s almost-boyfriend” falls under in the fuck up rating, but she figures she must be high on the list. 

The last thing Maya would ever do is hurt Riley, but there is a real possibility of this thing - whatever it is - between her and Lucas having to end when she tells her, so she doesn’t tell her, because, although she refuses to say it out loud, she’s not ready for it to end. 

One thing she has learned from a very young age: good things always come to an end. And this is good, and every day she prepares herself for the goodbye, for the inevitable deadline stamped somewhere in the near future. But when they’re together, limbs tangled and smiling like kids, when her heart feels almost full, she forgets that’s not her story, and it hurts to remember, but she keeps coming back for more every time. 

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Zay turns seventeen, and they all end up playing Laser Tag. They’re divided into two teams, Riley, Maya, and Zay against Farkle, Lucas, and Smackle. Smackle shoots herself as soon as the game starts, stating she doesn’t have enough low self-esteem to put herself through that much humiliation. Riley is pretty good, having spent many of Auggie's birthday parties in there, and she almost manages to take down Lucas before Farkle appears out of thin air and shoots her. 

She falls down, dramatically and in slow motion, and Zay comes shooting everything on sight and screaming “Die, bitches, die!”. He does take Farkle down before Lucas shoots him. Zay tells her to “bring that bitch down”, and she feels oddly competitive for a kids game. She and Lucas spend fifteen minutes hiding and trying to find the other, until she spots him near a dark corner. Her mind flashes with an idea, a dangerous one, but she has a toy gun in her hands so she feels like taking a risk. 

Maya walks up behind him, careful to not make a sound, and before he turns around she tugs his wrist and pushes the two of them into the corner. She kisses him, fast and malicious, and she hears the fake gun falling on the ground before he shoves her against the wall, one arm around her waist and the other on the wall behind her back. 

She allows herself to savor it, the beating of her heart, the tingles down her spine, and when she’s sure Lucas is as lost in it as she is, she leans back a little. He’s breathless and his mouth is swollen but it’s torn in a mischievous smile, and he dives down a little to kiss her again but stops abruptly. He looks down to his chest, where Maya has her gun pointed right in the middle of his vest. 

She enjoys the sound that he has been shot way too much, and Lucas looks shocked, but she just smiles and walks away. When she gets back to her friends, Zay hugs her and spins her in the air while Riley screams We Are The Champions at the top of her lungs. 

“So, how did you win?” Riley asks after they’ve settled down, a little bit of icing smudged on the corner of her lips. Maya scans the room, her eyes landing on Lucas for a millisecond, his smile matching her own. 

“Oh, you know.” She shrugs. “I’m just that good.”

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“Aren’t you supposed to be in detention?” Lucas asks as soon as he picks up the phone. 

“Is this how you answer when people call you?” Maya says, rolling her eyes. “What if I was dying and this was my last goodbye to you? You would’ve never forgiven yourself for being so rude to me during my last moments.”

“Are you dying?” He asks, nonchalant. 

“That’s irrelevant.”

He breathes out a laugh on the other side of the phone and Maya can’t help but smile. She wonders when did that become her body’s reaction to anything Lucas-related. 

“Anyway, Ms. Cameron is the teacher on duty, which means she’s anything but on duty.”

The last she saw Ms. Cameron she was sitting with her feet up the cafeteria table, not daring to move her eyes away from her phone screen. Maya walks around the empty classroom, where she had been instructed to leave under no circumstance, circling the tables to the sound of Lucas’ chuckles. She sits on top of one near the door. 

“So you’re spending the next two hours where she’s watching...General Hospital?”

“I think it’s Days of Our Lives, actually.”

“Right.” He continues. “So you’re spending the next two hours where she’s watching Days of Our Lives forcing me to keep you company?” It’s not really a question.

“Oh, you’re so smart.”

“I could always hang up, you know?” 

“Please, as if you have anything better to do.” Maya teases as she plays with a strand of her hair.

That’s the excuse she’s using anyway. Because Zay was on a date, Riley had a meeting with the debate club, and Farkle and Smackle had gone off to some sort of science camp weekend thing (she was honestly scared to ask). So Lucas was the only one available to keep her company, she tells herself. It’s not that she would actively choose to spend so much of her time with him, especially like this when he can’t physically distract her. It’s her only and last option, and it has nothing to do with the fact that excuses are a good way to lie to herself when she says she doesn’t enjoy time spent like this as much as when it is spent kissing him.

  “Plus, you’re the one who got me here, so this is your punishment as much as it is mine.” Lucas scoffs, dramatically so. 

“How is you ending up in detention my fault?”

“Oh, you know what you did.”

“Yeah, when I told you not to spend too much time in the art room because you would be late for English and you didn’t listen?”

“In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”

“So you told the teacher to fuck off when he said you couldn’t come into class?” She tries to hide her laugh. 

“Wow, I said the F word.” She quotes Dean Ward’s choice of words. “I don’t think it’s fair for me to lose my Friday afternoon because I used ‘creative language’. I thought that was a good thing.”

“Creativity?”

“No, the F word.” This time she laughs when he does. 

“Well,” Lucas says after a beat “You can come over.”

She sits up straight, cursing the butterflies dancing in her stomach.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean,” He exhales. “I can make your coffee the way you like it. And you know,” She can practically see him shrug. “Since it’s my fault, I can think of one way or another to try to make it up to you.”

Maya clenches her fingers around her phone, trying her best to ignore the voice that tells her that make-out sessions interspersed with hot drinks and conversation sounds awful like a relationship.

“Is this your version of dirty talk?”

“You don’t like dirty talk.” She doesn’t. 

“No, but I do like your coffee.” 

“So, you’re coming?”

“I don’t know, I’m also kind of hungry.” She hears him sigh on the other end of the line and she smiles because she is good at this. This she can handle. 

“We can order something.”

“Yeah, but your house it’s kind of far.” Maya pouts, surprised he’s lasting as long as he is.

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you were so desperate to see me, Friar.” She thinks he says something, but he must be away from his phone because she can’t really hear it.  “Relax, I’ll grab us some doughnuts on my way.”

Lucas scoffs again, mumbles something like “For Christ’s sake” under his breath. 

“You could’ve just said yes, you know?”

“What, and make it easy for you?” 

“You’re right.” He gives her a small laugh. “Doesn’t sound like you at all.”

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They don’t make it a habit of coming into each other’s room through their windows, but it proves to be useful from time to time. Especially when their parents forget the keys or come home earlier from work. 

This time, however, when Maya climbs the fire escape stair and taps on his window, the parent she’s running away from is her own. She isn’t sure why she came here of all places. Riley would know what to say, she would know how to fix this. But maybe Maya doesn’t want things to be fixed, because she knows they can’t be fixed, so maybe she’s here because she’s hurt and she tends to make big mistakes when she’s hurt. 

Lucas is laying on his bed, and he takes his earphones off when she taps on the glass for the third time. His smile disappears when he opens the window so she can come in. Maya curses herself for not checking if her face looked like she had cried the whole way here, even if she did. 

“Hey. Are you okay?”

She doesn’t answer him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him instead. His hands travel down her waist, and he kisses her back for a minute before he pulls away slightly, brows furrowed. 

“What’s going on?” His tone is way too worried to be casual. 

“I didn’t think I needed to explain.” She tries to joke but it comes out harsher than she intended. 

“Maya.” He says it softly, and she resists the urge to scream. 

“Nothing is going on, okay?” She lies, but kisses him again before he calls her bluff. 

She kisses him hard, desperate, her hands traveling across his chest as she looks for more, more, more . His tongue finds hers and she just wants the fireworks she always feels around him to turn into a wildfire and burn her from inside out. Suddenly close is not close enough, and kissing Lucas is not making her forget what happened and it’s not healing her heart, so she starts to unbuckle his belt because she needs him right now almost as she needs everything to stop hurting. 

He moans inside her mouth, but his hands stop her from reaching for his jeans, pulling them away. 

“Hey, hey, stop.” He breathes in her face. “Stop.” She does, her face still hot and her heart still aching. “I’m not doing this with you. Not like this.”

She thinks she’s about to throw up. Doesn’t he want this? Doesn’t he want to get as close as possible, take everything she has? And then she wants to cry, because maybe he wants this to mean more, or maybe - probably - he just doesn’t want her . He doesn’t want her like this, doesn’t want to see her this close, be this intimate. Because everything she has is simply not enough. 

She pulls away from him like he’s on fire, turning towards the window as tears start to blur her vision. She feels something tugging her sleeve, and she thinks about pushing him away but she’s just so, so tired that she just stays frozen in place. 

“Maya, c’mon.” He sounds so gentle she thinks that if she starts crying now she won’t ever stop. The hand that’s holding her sleeve goes down to her hand, interlacing their fingers. “Talk to me.”

Her first reaction is to blow him off, to walk away from this room, from his touch. But his hand feels warm against her, and she remembers how cold it’s outside, and she’s a little cold herself, and tired, and angry, and heartbroken and he is here . Lucas is here being warm and that’s more than she has had in a long time. So, she says:

“I saw my dad today.” She doesn’t turn around to face him, but she can feel his chest pressed lightly against her back. “Twelve years. Twelve years without a call, or a card. No birthdays, no Christmases, nothing. Twelve years and he’s been living all this time right under my nose with his new family.” 

A better family, she thinks bitterly. One that’s complete and shiny, without any cuts or scratches. Lucas’s hand moves to her middle, and she turns around because she needs him to believe the next part. She needs to believe it. 

“I hate him.” The words feel like poison in her mouth. “I hate what he’s done, and what he did to my mom, and every bad thing that happened after he left.” Lucas holds her tighter, and when she blinks tears stain her cheek. 

“I hate that I miss him.” She chokes, the words barely coming out. “I hate that I’m jealous of the kid whose dad stayed.” She can’t stop the tears from falling, and she’s afraid they’ll drown her. 

Maya is jealous of the kid, the one with brown hair and eyes like hers, like her father’s. Why didn’t he stay for her? Wasn’t she even younger than the child he played like there was the whole purpose of his existence? Wasn’t she just as innocent and dependable? Why was she the one who got the before version, the crappy version, the ‘walk out of the door and never come back’ version? 

“Why wasn’t I enough?” She doesn’t realize she said it out loud until Lucas’s arms are wrapped around her, pulling her against his chest. She sobs, the sound coming out of her like a raw cry for help, and Lucas holds her tight, as if he held her close enough he could glue back the broken pieces inside of her. 

She doesn’t know how long they stay like that, with Maya staining his shirt while his fingers trace circles across her back, but when she finally stops crying, they’re sitting on the edge of his bed. She has her head on his shoulder and one of his arms is around hers, the other’s hand holding hers tightly on top of her lap. 

She takes a deep breath, moves her head away from his shoulder, but doesn’t let go of his hand. She’s half drained, half embarrassed, and she doesn’t know if she wants to fall asleep or tell a joke and pretend the whole thing never happened. She doesn’t have to choose, though. 

“Hey,” Lucas says quietly, angling his body so he can cup her face with both his hands. “I’m sorry. I really am.” He sounds so honest she questions everything she’s ever heard before to be a lie. His hold on her face tightens, and she sees flames dancing behind his blue eyes. 

“But what happened wasn’t your fault, Maya. It’s not your fault.” He says it again, and she thinks he would keep saying it over and over until she believes it. “You’re strong, and empowering, and you’re smart, and creative and loyal and so, so many incredible things.” 

He looks her dead in the eye, and she doesn’t think she’s ever lived a moment more intimate than this one, and she feels naked and exposed and just so intensely open she fears Lucas can see every secret she hid on the corners of herself. Maya wants to run away, wants to cover herself up and play hide and seek with her feelings, but as terrifying as staying in his arms is, letting him go somehow sounds worse.

“You are,” He sighs, looking for the words. “You’re an unstoppable force of fucking nature, okay?” She laughs a little, just an uneven breath, because Lucas cursing never fails to make her laugh. 

“And you’re enough, Maya.” Something breaks inside her, the pieces going all the way up to her eyes and leaving tears at bay. “You’re more than enough. You’ve always been and you always will.” The way he’s looking at her looks like he’s handing her a piece of him. 

“There is nothing you could ever do that could possibly change that.” Somewhere during their talk (even though she didn’t say anything), Lucas moved to the floor, kneeling between her legs. Her hands find the back of his neck, and there are so many emotions storming inside her and blurring her vision that she doesn’t think she could ever tell him what his words - what he - means to her. 

So she thanks him the way she knows how, bending down so she can kiss him. Her tears make the kiss taste salty, and it’s soft and fast, and it feels right the way it hadn’t when she first crawled into his room. Her arms lock around his neck, and her head moves to his shoulder as he holds her back. 

They stay like that for a long time, holding each other tightly. Lucas presses his lips to her temple, mumbling things like “it’s okay” and “I’m here” and she just stays there, just lets him hold her, lets herself break. 

She thinks the broken pieces might fall a little into place. 

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The thing with having a crush on one of your closest friends for the past three years, developing a friendship with benefits in the meantime while simultaneously lying to everyone - especially herself - about her feelings, and having banter being the base of their entire relationship, is that it can get tricky sometimes. 

They don’t fight. They argue, and they tease one another and they have screaming matches sometimes, but Lucas and Maya don’t fight. Except that when they do, they fight with tooth and nails, merciless and crude. 

“Are you even listening to me!?” Lucas yells from across the room, trying to be as far away from her as physically possible. It makes her furious. She wasn’t planning on arguing today, she wasn’t planning on even talking to him today. But Zay had met her at her locker this morning, asking if they “could please make up already?”. 

Maya doesn’t doubt his heart, although she believes he wants them to make peace with each other because then they would tell him why they were fighting in the first place. Not that she’s caving, but Riley was also filling her ear with bullshit like “friendship” and things not being “so awkward that we can’t even be in the same room as you two”, so she swallowed part of her pride and texted Lucas asking him to come over so they could. 

If regret were poison she would six feet under by now. 

“I think the whole building heard you.” The words don’t have the desired effect because she’s screaming as well. 

“Maybe if I talk loud enough it will knock some sense into you.”

“Right, because I’m the irrational one here.” She avows and Lucas takes a few steps towards her. 

“If you want to call me crazy for protecting you, then fine, go ahead, it doesn’t mean you weren’t about to make a huge mistake!”

“Then it was my mistake to make!” She walks in his direction, feeling her blood boil inside her veins. “You can’t keep me from living my life, Lucas”

“I’m not trying to do that!” Now he sounds more frustrated than angry, the feeling mutual. She knows she was just talking to Josh, and she also knows Josh was in the wrong for flirting with her, but that doesn’t mean Lucas was right for grabbing Matthews by his collar and coming really close to punching him. 

“No, you’re just jealous.” She’s being petty, but she is too annoyed to bother. 

“Of course I’m jealous!” He throws his hands in the air. “But it’s not why I did it.”

Because Josh is twenty-one and she didn’t even graduate high school and he mentioned his door room a lot for someone who saw her as just a kid. Lucas is also wrong, he can’t go on fighting her battles, but she needs to accept help when needed. And there is a reason behind this stupid argument, one revolving around truth and acting like her boyfriend and all those things they never talk about. But now she is too angry to tell him that.

“You have to trust me!” She doesn’t know when they met in the middle of the room, but now there’s very little space between their bodies.

“I do trust you!”

“Fine!”

“Great”

“Fantastic.”

And then she grips his collar and kisses him hard. He picks her up from the ground and her legs wrap around his torso. She gasps when he presses her against the wall, his fingers digging into her hip. It eventually fades into brushes of lips between shaky breaths, but she figures this is a good way to end an argument. 

When Zay asks how did they make up, she says they’ve talked it out like grown-ups, and he scoffs like he doesn’t really believe her, but he lets it slide, and she’s a little more grateful for him that day. Sometimes being with Lucas is tricky, but it’s worth it. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There is one night, where they’re not doing anything special. They’ve spent the day together, exploring New York like they were tourists, and Maya’s heart had felt full and her cheeks had hurt from smiling. Her mom wasn’t home, so they went to her place, and she doesn’t really know how they’ve ended up kissing on the fire escape by her window again, but here they are. 

But there is something different about tonight. Maybe it’s the way the sky looks above the lights, maybe it’s his smile that never fails to give her butterflies, or maybe it’s her heart that doesn’t feel like it belongs to her anymore. But either way, when she holds his hand and they get in her room, she wants to be as close to him as she can. 

He asks her if she’s sure, and she doesn’t think she has ever been more sure of a decision before. They’ve done this with other people. Lucas’s experience was slightly better than hers, but it’s not like they’ve had tons of practice. Maya’s had sex before, but this night with Lucas she wonders if this is why people call it making love. 

Tonight, she doesn’t have it in her to be scared by the four-letter word. 

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Lucas’s grandfather dies, and her heart breaks. He gets the news in school, the guidance counselor asking to talk to him outside the classroom while she feels her heart dropping to her stomach. They meet him in the hallway, all five of them, and Riley has her arms around him before he even gets the words out. 

It quickly turns into an awkward group hug, and Maya wishes she could read his mind so she could know what to say to make it all feel better. But his parents pick him up and he’s on a flight to Texas the same day, and she figures there aren’t words that could ever fix this. 

She texts him for the next couple of days, asking him how he is and if there’s anything she can do to help even though she is miles away. She feels stupid, and for three days it’s as if her heart flew all the way with Lucas. His texts are short, without any space for more conversation. 

She thinks Riley notices something is wrong with her, because Maya has been quiet and kind of far away, and Riley is Riley so of course she notices, but she doesn’t comment on it. Maya decides that if one day she gets her shit together she’ll tell her how much that means to her. 

It’s been four days when he shows up at her window. It’s the middle of the night, and she’s lying on her bed trying to get at least two hours of sleep before she has to get up when she hears the noise. She sits down instantly, and her eyes are carved on him for a moment, her foggy brain trying to pick up on the fact that he’s here. 

He’s wearing a tux when he comes inside, his hair a mess. He sits on the edge of her bed as she closes her window. He stares at her wall, glaring at nothing. Maya just stands there, near her window, wrapping her arms around herself in a dull attempt of protecting herself from the boy sitting on her bed. Because that’s not Lucas. 

His tie is loose around his neck, his shoes untied, his eyes are glassy, and it feels like he’s everywhere but here. Lucas is raw emotion, he’s the forest fire and he’s the rainstorm. He is loud laughs and broad smiles and thundering anger mixed with kindness and goodness and just every other feeling humans are able to express. But the person in front of her looks like a gosht of someone else’s sorrow. 

“Hey,” Her voice comes out in a whisper, and she clears her throat before she continues it. “I didn’t know you were back.”

“Couldn’t be at home.” Lucas mumbles, his eyes still not meeting hers. He shakes his head as if he has just realized he’s a person capable of action and words, and she sits by his side when he starts to apologize for showing up out of the blue, telling him he has nothing to be sorry for because he doesn’t. 

They just sit in silence for a while, the quiet so loud she thinks it might kill her. She wants to hold his hand, to run her fingers through his hair and tell him everything will be okay. But she has been lying to everyone for so long she doesn’t want to start lying to him now. He’s still not looking at her, and she just wants him to scream, or cry or say he needs a distraction so she can do something . 

She could tell a joke, or hold him, or give something for him to break. She could strip in front of him and change his focus to something familiar. There are a million things she thinks she can do to help, but it’s like there is a wall keeping him away, and the irony isn’t lost on her. Maya hasn’t realized how excruciating it was for the people on the other side as well. 

But then he starts talking, and her heart bursts and breaks all at once, but it has been doing that same routine for Lucas for so long she can’t bother to care because now he sounds like him again. 

“He wanted,” He says in an undertone, “He wanted his ashes to be thrown in the same lake my grandmas were.” Maya thinks back to the one time she met his grandfather, how he had looked coarse at first, but then he had set up the campfire and told them about the stars. It seems fitting that he was a man who wouldn’t take ‘til death do us part’ as an answer. 

“He always told me that he wasn’t scared to die because then he would see her again.” He wears the saddest smile she has ever seen. “And how she would complain that he was always late.” Maya smiles, but the muscles on her face feel rigid when he lets out a humorless laugh that sends shivers down her spine. 

“You know, he was the one who taught me how to drive.” He glances at her, and she can see a tear rolling down his cheek. “And he would tell me how he taught her as well. She was in all of his stories, like his life had only begun when he met her.” Maya holds his hand, trying to pull him back to her because she fears he might go too far away if she doesn’t stop him. 

“I always thought they were the epitome of romance. And I always thought it was sort of nice that they wouldn’t be alone on the other side.” He turns to her then, his eyes red and full of unshed tears, and Maya feels a crack opening right in the middle of her chest. She holds his hand tighter. “But now that he’s gone there’s no comfort in the thought because he is just gone .” The tears roll down his cheek as if he was holding them for years. “He’s gone, and he’s not here and I,” He croaks. “I just miss him so much.”

She’s holding him before he’s even finished. She pulls him down so his head is on her chest, her chin resting on top of his hair as his arms go around her waist. His whole body shakes while he cries, and she rubs his back and kisses the top of his head while he holds on to her like he’s drowning and she’s the one thing keeping him afloat. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” She says it in his hair over and over, not even noticing the pet name because all of her senses are preoccupied with holding on to Lucas and not letting go. At least not tonight. She lifts his face so she can kiss him, just a peck on the lips, then his nose, his forehead, his whole face until he hugs her, chest to chest as she buries her face on his shoulder. 

 After hours, when they’re laying in her bed with their foreheads touching and their legs tangled, he whispers “I’ve missed you, Maya”. His voice is dripping with sleep, so she guesses he can’t hear the breath getting stuck in her throat.

“I’m right here.” She says, and wonders if her heart will ever feel whole again. 

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Football season starts, and that means scouts, and that means Lucas silently freaking out. It starts with him spending most of his time practicing, which doesn’t seem like a red flag because Lucas has always been hard working. But Maya starts noticing he can’t sit still for more than five minutes, he has bags under his eyes and has started a little game Maya likes to call “how many cups of coffee can I take without ending up in the hospital.”

She worries, and he tells her not to, which only makes her worry more. So that’s why she ends up barging into the boy’s locker room - with just Lucas inside, thank God - ready to throw a speech and stomp her feet. But when she sees him, he has his head against his locker, his eyes closed, and small has never been a word she associated with Lucas Friar up until this moment. 

Maya walks up to him, holds his hand in hers when he opens his eyes. He gives her a weak smile, and he looks so tired she fears he will stumble on her, so they sit on the bench, and she tries not to think about how many naked butts have sat where she is right now. Lucas takes a deep breath before he says:

“I know what you’re gonna say.” She almost asks him what, because all the words she rehearsed before coming inside had vanished from her mind when she had laid eyes on him. “I know I should take it down a notch.”

“Try five.” He laughs under his breath. 

“I just,” He squeezes her hand twice before continuing. “I could really use the scholarship.” She’s about to ask why, because money hasn’t really been a problem for him, but he beats her to it. “My dad offered to pay for college, but only if I study in Austin.”

The first time Lucas walked into their classroom, in seventh grade, it’s suddenly burning in the back of her mind, when he had said ‘Austin, Texas’ and it seemed like no big deal but now it feels like he was telling her how many miles it is away from New York, from her, and there are so many miles. 

“Oh.” She says, because what else is there to say? 

“I don’t wanna go, Maya.” She would’ve thought she would be used to the butterflies at this point, but oh, boy, was she wrong. “So, if I get a scholarship…”

“I know,” She says smiling at him. “I get it, really.” 

“So you’re not gonna yell at me?”

“I was planning on it.” She nods. “You know, tell you to stop acting like a Western hero and all that.” He laughs again, and it feels lighter than it has been for the past week. “Lucky for you I don’t feel like screaming anymore.” She bumps her shoulder on his.

“Yeah, you know what they say.”

“What?”

“Come for the accent, stay for the existential crisis.” She snorts and he gives a look that makes her naked. 

“As much as I like you in New York,” Maya says after they’ve stopped laughing, not daring to look him in the eyes. “I like you better when you’re not walking around like a zombie.” He kisses the top of her head, and his voice is muffled when he talks.

“Yes, mam.” 

And because the moment feels too intimate and delicate and she doesn’t know how to handle fragile things, she does what she does best and wraps her arms around his neck. He pulls her so she’s sitting on his lap, his hands firmly against her hip. 

“And, you know,” She tries to sound as casual as she can. “If you’re stressed, I might know a thing or two to get you out of your head.” He places his hand on her back, pulling her closer. 

‘Oh, yeah?” He whispers on her face

“Yeah.” It’s all she says before she kissing him. 

It becomes their thing, one of many apparently, making out in the locker room. And for a while everything it’s like it is supposed to be. Lucas is doing great on the field, she’s doing even better in her art classes, and the locker room is always empty when she comes inside. 

On the last game of the season, he gives her a quick peck on the hallways. No one is around, and when she finds her place on the bleachers, besides two girls she thinks are in her Chemistry class, she has a childlike smile on her face. But then she hears them talking. 

She tries her best to ignore it, but “She must be a great fuck for him to risk his reputation” and “I give it one month before he gets bored” and “I bet that by that by the end of the year she’ll end up knocked up and ruin both their lives” sounds so much louder than the cheers from the bleachers that her vision is blurred before she can even get up. 

She only stops walking away when she starts sobbing. She covers her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound, sliding down the wall behind her. She brings her knees to her chest, hoping that maybe she can shrink into herself, dissolve in thin air. But the ground doesn’t swallow her, so she just sits on top of it and cries. 

It’s not that people don’t talk about her. She doesn’t remember a time when people didn’t talk about her. Her absent father, her crazy mom, the triangle. And she is a girl, so of course, people talk about her sex life, whether it’s true or not. They seem to either think she’s fucking Lucas (which she is, but it’s different, it’s so different than how they say it is), or that she’s slept with anyone who was willing to. 

Most of the time, she doesn’t care, or she does a pretty convincing job at pretending she doesn’t. But this time it doesn’t feel like high school rumors, it feels like a curtain being open, letting the truth illuminate this dark room she has found herself in for the past five months. But the light it’s burning the room to ashes, and Maya is standing right in the middle of it, with smoke in her lungs and tears in her eyes. 

Mr. Matthews has told them that people change people, and she believed it for a while. She believed she could be different from the rest of her life. But looking now, it feels like another pretty dream she inevitably would wake up from, and now she just did. Because she is seventeen years old and she goes through every day of her life thinking nobody loves her. Doubting every word, every action, always looking for second intentions.

And for some inexplicable reason or just a really cruel joke, the most honest, good people in the world are in her life. And she still can’t allow herself to let them fully know her. And she can’t allow that because letting someone see her would mean there are no places for her to hide the ugly and the bad, and those parts would eventually scare them all away.

Art is the one piece of her soul the outside world has ever gotten a look at, but it’s not going to take her anywhere. And all the talk about changes and future doesn’t seem to matter now, because Maya can see hers clearly as she could see the football field moments ago. Unloavle and alone. And hurting everyone in the process to get there. 

Maya has been selfish for so long, and she’s not thinking about the lying or the secrets. She’s thinking of Lucas, of crying on his shoulder and laying in his bed. Of the hundreds of drawings she’s made of him, every dinner he’s cooked for her. Their late-night talks about the weight that pulls them down and the lazy mornings where neither of them is making any sense but it just feels nice to hear his voice while they’re bathed in sunlight.

Lucas has been pulling strings at her heart for so many years she doesn’t know if she will ever untangle herself from him, but now she realizes those strings might very well be the rope that hangs them both. Because Lucas will jump from the cliff and she is just void inside, and in the end, all that will remain will be his broken pieces scattered inside her cracks. 

Their team wins the game, and she cleans her face just in time for Lucas to come running and spins her in his arms. He wears a smile so broad she thinks his cheek might hurt. He is covered in dirt and sweat, and everyone around them is celebrating and screaming so loudly he has to bend down so she can hear him. 

“Are you okay?” He asks as he tugs her hair behind her ear. Maya doesn’t trust herself to speak, so she nods, hoping it to be enough. It’s not, because he furrows his brows and steps even closer to her, as if he could read the problem on her face if he was close enough. “I’m fine, really.” She says because he is able to read her. 

Lucas doesn’t seem to buy it, but he knows better than to pressure her into talking, so he looks both ways, checking if someone is paying attention to them, and kisses her. It’s quick and it tastes like salt, but he’s smiling when he pulls away. “I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” She manages a small smile. 

“See you.” Maya tells him before he disappears into the crowd.

It feels like goodbye. 

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Maya is alone in her apartment when all hell breaks loose, and she deems it appropriate. Well, actually, she is not alone when it starts. She had spent a total of two weeks doing her best to avoid Lucas, giving him lame excuses and not leaving room for conversation between their encounters. 

Her mom is out of town with Shawn, and she is sitting on the living room couch when somebody knocks on the door. Maybe there is a scientific explanation of why she feels the need to be on high alert when she makes her way to open the door, some kind of animalistic second nature. Or maybe there isn’t, but when she sees Lucas standing on the other side her first instinct is to lock the door and crawl under the covers, hide away from the world. 

“Lucas?” She asks, and it’s stupid but she feels the need to make sure it’s really him, because she hasn’t been alone with him for what feels like years, and this could very well be a figment of her imagination. 

“Hey,” He says, bouncing slightly on his feet. “Can I come in?”

He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and the grey hoodie she had splashed blue paint at the bottom a few months ago. His hair is untamed, like it usually is, and he looks so familiar that it takes everything in her to not move aside to let him in.

“I’m kinda busy now.” She tries to play it cool, but the lie feels stiff on her tongue. 

“On a Saturday?” 

“Homework” She shrugs, but her answer was stupid, stupid, stupid

“You don’t do homework on Saturday.” 

“I’m running some line with my mom.” Stupid, stupid, stupid

“I thought she was out for the weekend with Shawn”

“Uhmm…” She tries to come up with something, anything, and if she was on high alert before now every alarm is ringing so loud that every possible lie is drowned out by the noise. 

“Look, Maya,” Lucas sighs. “You can keep lying to avoid me like you have been doing for the past weeks, or you can let me out of my misery and let me in.”

She feels like a kid who has just been caught in a lie. Maya wants to deflect, but he’s looking at her the way she hates, or maybe loves, and she really doesn’t want to do this, but does she really has a choice? Lucas comes in, and it feels like she is about to go to war. 

She closes the door behind her, walking to the couch and picking her mug. She walks to the kitchen, and she can feel him following her with his eyes. She starts washing the mug, her back turned to him, and she keeps scrubbing even when it’s clean because then she won’t have to look at him and maybe it will hurt* less. 

“I’m not avoiding you.” She hears him scoff from where he is standing in the living room. “I’m not.” She tries again. “I’ve just been-”

“Busy?” He sounds impatient, and part of her fear is replaced with annoyance. She takes a deep breath and he takes a few steps in her direction. “Maya, what’s going on?” She has stopped scrubbing her mug, but her back is turned to him. 

“Did I… Did I do something?” His voice sounds heavy with something, and before she can make sense of her actions, she has turned to face him. “No, you haven’t done anything” She walks to where he is, and something tugs inside her when she realizes that being near him it’s second nature to her at this point. “I just...” 

What could she possibly say? Feel like disaster is imminent when it comes to the both of us? Look at you and I feel hopeful, but hope has never been a constant in my life? Need to walk away before you do, because I don’t know how I would take it if you left without me pushing you away and that terrifies me? Will eventually hurt you and you look so much better without the scars I’ll mark on your body if we keep doing what we’re doing?

“I think we should stop.” The words feel heavy in her mouth. Her heart feels heavy in her chest. 

“Stop?” He seems to already know the answer. 

“Us. I think we should stop whatever it is that we’re doing” Maya can’t look him in the eyes, because she knows how they look under this light, and now it will look like a dagger straight into her chest. He doesn’t say anything, and she starts talking because the silence might very well kill her. 

“You know, we’ve always known it was supposed to end, right?” His face tells her otherwise. “We’ve had our fun, and I think it’s best for our friendship if we stop with the whole benefits thing.” 

“Benefits?” He spits the word. “It’s that what we’re calling it now? You really wanna dismiss everything we have and call it a day instead of talking about whatever it is that’s bothering you?”

“I’m not dismissing anything, Lucas” 

“No, you’re just lying.” He is angry, and he has the right to be, but it stirs something inside her, and it’s better to focus on that than anything else she is feeling right now. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I have been in this as much as you have.” He gestures between them. “Don’t stand there talking as if these past months were just a way to blow off some steam.”

“Look, I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up about this.” She throws her hands in the air, ignoring his previous comment. “We can still be friends.”

“I don’t wanna be your friend, Maya!” 

“Well, then there’s the door” She doesn’t mind the venom in her words when his stings just as bad. 

“Stop it.” He looks her dead in the eyes and takes a step forward. “Stop pushing me away.” 

“I’m not pushing you away! If your interest in our friendship ran out then I’m sorry but there’s really nothing I can do about it, can I?” It’s not fair, but this is the fastest way she knows to build her walls back. 

“That it’s not what I meant and you know it.” 

“What I know it’s that we need to stop.” He looks hurt, and she wonders if he can see that his face is reflected on her own. “With the lying, and the secrets, all of it.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you”

“No, you lied. And I know that because I know you , so I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” She wishes he would stop digging the knife deeper. She wishes she could be someone else so he couldn’t read her as well as he does. She wishes she hadn’t opened the door and they were still fine and still together in whatever mess they’ve created. 

“Nothing is wrong other than the fact that you refuse to let things go.” It sounds like a shot directed at herself. 

“You mean let you go” Let me do that for you, then.

“You don’t want to be my friend and you don’t want to let me go.” The frustration seems to mask out the pain in her voice. “What the hell do you want from me, Lucas?”

“I want you!” He screams, and every word she has ever learned is erased from her mind, every action a stranger to her body. “I just want you” He’s close now, and she wonders if he can hear her heart breaking. Lucas takes a deep breath before continuing. 

“I want to kiss you without worrying about who might see it. I want to call you my girlfriend and not have you run the other way. I want to tell our friends we’re together, and I want to hold your hand and take you out.” He looks down at her as he cups her face, and his eyes seem to hide a storm behind them. “I want to look you in the eye and tell you I love you without having to risk losing you.” 

Maya can’t breathe. She can’t breathe, or talk, or move. She can’t even cry. All she can do is stand here and watch the boy she loves give her his heart just so she can break it later. “I love you, Maya.” She wonders how someone can feel shattered and complete at the same time. 

“I’ve loved you for years. I love your laugh, and how you always snort at horror movies. I love when we’re laying together and you let me play with your hair” He strokes the tip of her curls, as if he’s demonstrating his words. “I love the way you scrunch your nose when you paint, and how you refuse to call baseball plays anything that’s not hit and run.”

“I love that you keep me going when I feel like I can’t. And I love your heart, that you try to hide all the time but it’s bigger than all of New York.” She doesn’t know how the tears haven’t fallen and drowned her yet. “I love you,” He says again. “Can you look at me and tell me you don’t love me?” 

She can’t, but she does. Because bad things happen to those who love her, and it’s her job to save as many people as she can. There is a voice in the back of her mind telling her to let go of her scars, that love and hope and dreams could wash them away if she just let them, but she holds on to the hurt like an armor, because what happens if she takes it off? 

“I don’t,” She whispers, and the words seem to leave her frozen. Or maybe it’s just because Lucas has walked away from her, and she’s never really warm without him. “I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression.” 

He looks at her as if he has never seen her before. As if he had the chance not to, he wouldn’t have met her, and she can’t blame him, because if she had the chance she wouldn’t have let him, she would have saved him from her. Maya wants to look down at the floor, but her eyes are carved on him, and she thinks that if she tries hard enough, she can see his heart bleeding on the ground alongside hers. 

Lucas walks away, the door still opened behind him. She waits to hear his steps on the stairs, the engine of his car, any sign that shows her he is gone. She manages to close the door before she starts crying. 

Maya is alone in her apartment, with tears down her eyes and sobs escaping her mouth, Lucas’ ghost haunting the void in the middle of her chest as he vanishes outside with whatever pieces are left of them. 

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He goes to Texas a week later, visiting colleges, and she thinks bitterly that they both developed the bad habit of running away. Two weeks later, Maya is on the Bay Window with Riley, numbly staring at the wall as her friend talks about something she didn’t quite hear. 

“What do you think?” Riley asks, and Maya thinks she should be a better friend because she really has no idea what they are supposed to be talking about. 

“Sure.” She figures it’s the safe answer. She was wrong. 

“Are you thinking about all the ways you’re gonna jump Lucas’ bones when he comes back?” That snaps her attention, her neck turning so fast to face her friend she’s surprised she didn’t break anything. 

“What?” Her voice comes out at a high pitch. 

“If you two are that horny there’s always phone sex.” Riley sounds so casual about the whole thing Maya honestly considers being clinically insane. 

“Riley,” Her tone must have given her feelings away, because her friend turns to her with her brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?” Riley shrugs, smiles a little as she says:

“You know, this whole secret love affair you have going on with him.” Maya’s eyes are so wide she fears they will fall out of her face. “I figured you would tell me by graduation” Maya somehow manages to speak. 

“Wha- You knew!?” Riley laughs and now Maya is sure she has gone crazy and her whole life has been a fever dream. 

“Maya, c’mon.” She says as if Maya has just asked her if she knew the alphabet. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Miss I-Have-Hated-Sports-My-Whole-Life-But-I’m-Gonna-Watch-Every-Game-Lucas-Is-In-And- Wait-For-Him-In-The-Locker-Room.” Maya feels her cheek burn. “And I’m not blind.” She smiles as if the whole thing it’s just an internal joke. 

“You’re not,” Maya swallows, trying to catch up on her thoughts. “You’re not mad?” Riley laughs again, but when she looks at her she realizes Maya wasn’t joking. “Why would I be mad?”

Because you’re my best friend and I have been lying to you? Maya thinks. Because you liked Lucas before? But as she thinks about all possible reasons Riley could be mad, she realizes none of them were real possibilities. Because she knows Riley, she knows she would never care that her middle school crush and her best friend are together. She won’t even care that Maya was lying to her because she knows her too, and she knew she would tell her eventually. 

Her heart just feels so full of love and appreciation for the brunette, the other half of her soul, that she only notices she’s crying when Riley is wrapping her arms around her. And then she cries even harder, for everything. For the father she’s survived, the friend she’s gained, the boy she’s lost. Riley holds her through it all, just like she always has. 

“What happened?” She asks after Maya has stopped crying. 

“We’re not together anymore.” She says softly, but it feels wrong that the first person who’s ever heard her referring to them as being together isn’t Lucas. Riley has the question written on her face. “He told me he loved me.”

“Oh,” Riley says, and the two-letter word is filled with understanding. “It’s that why he is in Texas right now?” Maya nods. “And it’s that why you’ve been moping around ever since?” 

“I’m not moping around” She is. 

“Maya,” Her voice sounds older and wiser all of the sudden. Riley holds her hand. “Do you love him?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Because it doesn’t, not after everything. 

“How could it not matter?” 

“Because I fucked up.” She feels the tears coming back to the surface. “I really fucked up, Riley.” 

“Oh, Peaches.” Riley wraps one of her arms around Maya’s shoulder, resting her head on her friend’s. “Look, I brag myself to be the person who knows you better than anyone.”

“You are.” Maya sniffles as Riley moves so they’re face to face again. 

“So trust me when I tell you there is nothing you could ever do that would change the way that guy feels about you.” Her smile is warm. “I know you think you’re not worthy of love, Maya, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. You wanna know how I know this?” Maya nods. 

“Because I love you. I have loved you for most of my life. And you love me.” It’s not a question, but Maya affirms it anyway. “And I’m a better person because of it.” Riley wipes away a tear from Maya’s cheek. “And so is Farkle, and your mom, and Lucas. Because having you in our lives is a gift”. 

She hugs her again, and Maya thinks that she did something right to have Riley Matthews as her best friend. And then she thinks about her godsend of a mom, her rock, and of her friends, who are the joy of her life. And then finally of Lucas, who taught her heart to beat to a whole new rhythm, and she figures maybe she’s created more than just damage. 

“But the question is,” Riley says after a moment. “What do you wanna do now.” Maya inhales through her nose, blows the air through her mouth, wipes the tears away, her mind clear. 

“I wanna fix things.” Riley smiles at her, half hope and happiness, half mistress of evil. 

“Then let’s fix it.”

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When the plane lands in Austin, Maya has half a mind to stay inside until it flies back to New York. But Riley drags her out, and gets their bags, calls an Uber to get them to the hotel, and then another one to get them to Lucas’ family house. They’re halfway there when Maya has the sudden urge to throw up. 

“This is crazy” She announces, and Riley turns her face from the window to look at her. “I’m crossing city limits to chase a guy. This isn’t me.”
“Well, technically it’s me because it was my idea and I have a thing for the dramatics” Riley says. “And I did pay for our tickets, so.”

“Riley” Maya says firmly

“Maya” She repeats, mocking her tone. 

Maya steals a glance at the driver, making sure he’s not paying attention to their conversation, and decides she doesn’t care if he is because:

“What if he’s changed his mind?” Riley rolls her eyes, which only makes Maya feels stupider. 

“He didn’t” It’s not as convincing as she would like. 

“But what if he did?” Riley rolls her eyes again, but this time she moves closer to Maya so she can hold her hand, squeezing it lightly.

“Then you’ll thank him for his time, go back to the hotel, and we’ll stuff our face with ice cream,” This wins a small smile from both of them. “And then we’ll go back home, and you’ll live your life and be very happy and very successful.” She squeezes her hand again. “Because you’re Maya freaking Hart, and there is nothing you set your mind to that you can’t do” 

Maya exhales sharply. “Okay”. Riley squeezes her hand one last time before letting go. “Good.” She releases her seatbelt. “‘Cause we’re here”

Well, fuck.

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The house looks the same as it did when she came here the first time. If she tries really hard, she can see Lucas’s grandfather sitting on the rocking chair on the porch, and she is surprised she has a part of her heart not consumed with anxiety, because that bit wonders if Lucas imagines the man as well. 

Maya stares at the door for ten minutes before knocking three times, and when she hears the steps from inside the house she feels like throwing up. Lucas opens the door, and it feels like clear air has entered her lungs for the first time in weeks. He’s wearing jeans and flannel, and her tongue itches for words like cowboy to roll out, but his eyes are wide and he keeps opening and closing his mouth, so she opts to stay quiet. 

“Maya?” He asks, and she is taken back to their last interaction. He closes the door behind him so they’re both standing on his porch. The wind smells like grass and she hears crickets instead of cars, and if she could set her brain on anything other than him, she would say this place is rather beautiful. 

 “Hey,” She wonders if she really is this dumb, but Lucas looks just as lost of words as she does. 

“What,” He swallows. “What are you doing here?”

“I flew” Is that even an answer? “On a plane” That definitely isn’t, and maybe she has always been this dumb. 

“Why?” He sounds as if he’s not entirely sure she is here.

Because I haven’t seen you, our heard your voice, or touched you in three weeks. Because I miss you. Because sometimes I miss you so much I can’t do anything else . 

“Because I’m curious” It’s the first thing that comes out of her mouth, and now she wants to run away just out of shame. 

“You’re curious? About what?”

“About where you’re gonna go to college” Maya doesn’t think she’s ever lived a more humiliating moment than this one. 

“You flew all the way to Texas to know where I’m gonna go to college?”

“Yes” No “I just wanted to know,” Many things, and college is probably the last on the list. “I wanted to know if you’re coming home”

He stops looking at her as if she’s a mirage, and his eyes resemble the way they were on that day in her apartment.

“I don’t know where that is anymore” 

That hurts. It carves a deep hole inside her chest, probably the same size as the one she carved on his. She imagines a place where they’ve solved all their problems, and she thinks they will always carry that matching scar, no matter how much time passes, and the thought stings. 

But then she imagines all the memories they can still make, and something like hope blazes within her. She thinks she has many stories engraved on her skin, many more underneath. She remembers all the stories she’s read on Lucas’ body, and every word and punctuation they’ve marked on each other, and she can’t bring herself to care about a scar right now. 

“I do,” All the nervousness fades from her voice. “And it’s not here. Your home is in New York.” She takes a step forward. “It’s in the overly sweet coffee you order at Topanga’s. Your home is with Riley, and Farkle, and Zay” Another step. “It’s the movie nights at Farkle’s place where we never finish a movie because we don’t shut up and it annoys the crap out of you but you keep doing it because we’re family” 

She takes one last step, and now she can see the freckles on his face. Her voice doesn’t falter for a moment when she says:

“Lucas, your home is with me” His eyes seem to be looking at her soul, searching for something familiar, and she is determined to give it to him. “It’s this troubled, slightly bitchy girl who flew all the way here because she misses you. Who is tongue-tied on your porch because she doesn’t know how to apologize.”

“And I know sorry can’t fix what I did, but it doesn’t change the fact that you belong with me. And I with you. You belong with the girl who loves you, and I love you.” She takes a deep breath, letting the words sink in. “I love everything about you.” Lucas goes back to looking at her as if she is not real.

“I know I broke your heart, and I’ve broken my own, but I am telling you we can fix this. Because you tore all of my walls down, and I don’t want them back up. I just want you” She repeats the word that she has played over and over in her mind ever since he’s said them to her. “I want your coffee, and your books I don’t understand, and your dad jokes and everything in between.” 

“I love you, and I am asking you to give us another chance.” She places one hand on his chest, the other on the back of his neck. “Because I think it’s worth it. I think we’re worth it” She touches his forehead with her own “We’re better when we’re together, Lucas.” She can feel his quivery breath on her face. 

“It’s the way you hold me.” She places his hand on her waist, and she deduces he’ll move away but he just holds tighter when she lets them go. “The way I kiss you.” She breathes the words on his lips. “That’s your home. And I’m asking you to come back. I’m asking you to stay with me”

There is a long silence afterward, where Maya adjusts herself to saying everything she did and Lucas to listening to everything she’s said. Their lips are so close they almost brush against each other, and Maya realizes it’s been almost a month since she has last kissed him. She didn’t notice how much she missed it until now. 

“Do you really mean all of this?” His words are low, soft. 

Maya nods. 

“Because if you do, I need you to know I’m not letting you go. That ever since I’ve met you it’s like this hurricane came turning my world upside down and now I don’t know another perspective that isn’t you.” Maya smiles for what it feels like it’s the first time. “I love you.” Her heart is his. “But if you don’t mean everything you’ve just said you need to tell me because my world can’t take all these switching points of view.”

“I do.” She says it immediately, pulling him even closer and running her fingers through his hair. “I mean it. All of it”

His smile is the last thing she sees before he kisses her. It feels like the campfire and fire escape stairs. It tastes like marshmallows and birthday cake. And for all their talk about home she doesn’t think words would ever feel as fitting as this does. 

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Maya is in Texas when Lucas calls her his girlfriend for the very first time.