Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

6:27. Monday. September 2nd. New York. Riley's apartment.

Despite the pitifully short hours of sleep, Riley's excitement surged, prompting her to wander her room in search of inspiration for the perfect ensemble.

Riley perched on her bay window overlooking New York city’s greatest garbage bin area. At thirteen, she stood on the brink of her final year at John Quincy Addams Middle School. Her belly still savoring the remnants of the previous night’s pasta fiesta. Contemplating her wardrobe choices to make a lasting good impression, Riley was determined that this year would be different. Her long brunette hair, occasionally adorned with playful curls, cascaded down her back as she nervously twirled strands between her fingers. Rising extra early to meticulously prepare, she inspected the contents of her newest Levison's backpack filled with school supplies not once, not twice, but thrice before securing it shut, vowing not to touch it again. Her excitement washed over her brief hours of sleep, wandering the room in search of the perfect ensemble.

Since the first second of middle school, Riley had eagerly anticipated this day, a sentiment she shared with her best friend, Maya. Armed with a fresh wardrobe, pristine binders, and an air of newfound confidence, Riley glanced at her clock, eagerly awaiting Maya's arrival to assist with the final touches. As she peered out the bay window, the subtle changes in the air eluded her nervous excitement.

Unbeknownst to Riley, the impending arrival of her friend hinted at a season of change, much like the approaching fall. Little did she realize that, just as the leaves would gently descend, she too would find herself taking a step back. Both Maya and Riley were destined to fall, much like the season, their hearts descending into the complexities of adolescent emotions, with a gravitational force pulling the two into uncharted territories.

Chapter Text

6:26. Monday. September 2^nd. New York. Maya's studio.

Maya's day kicked off with a distinctive twist compared to her non-blood-related sister; her mother accidentally spilled an oddly colored bottle on Maya's already soiled shirt. The carefree woman had neglected, or rather, sipped away her laundry duties, leaving the blonde with no alternative but to wear a snug old shirt she had stashed from her last poor kids summer camp. With little choice, Maya reluctantly pulled the shirt over her chest. The first day held the highest anticipation throughout the past summer, signifying not only the start of the school year but also the promise of enjoying two meals a day.

Residing in New York came with a hefty price tag, especially for a single mother. Maya's mom, not one to voice complaints—or much of anything, really, aside from maybe a fondness for alcohol—navigated the city's challenges in her own way. One she had taught her daughter to replicate.

The blonde ambled the short distance to the kitchen, opting for a bowl of the last remaining cereals in the pitiful rendition of Toasted O's, a knockoff of Cheerios. The milk had a slightly expired taste, prompting Maya to forego finishing the rest of the plastic jug. Instead, she closed her eyes in a desperate bid for a moment of silence amid the city's clamor.

With her mother's snores as an unlikely lullaby, Maya concluded her modest meal and swiftly exited the room. In hand, she carried an aged prop pilfered by her mother from a series the woman was once recognized for in distant times. The bag, a once-flashy orange, now showed signs of wear and tear. It was insufficient to accommodate all of Maya's secondhand manuals, leaving some scattered on the counter. She harbored a hope that her mother, in the pursuit of her poison-induced escapades, wouldn't entertain the idea of selling them for a fleeting moment of bliss.

Venturing out onto the streets, inhaling the blend of fresh air and the distinct urban medley of dirty cement, pigeon crap, and car fuel, Maya couldn't help but smile. The city's streets were her familiar terrain, and the absence of books at home only fueled her curiosity, leading to fascinating discoveries on the New York map. Her own mental compass guided her through the labyrinthine streets, each one a known path to her intended destination. Despite the forty-minute gap between Riley's house and hers, the distance had never hindered the two girls from spending every precious minute of the day together.

Navigating through the hordes of ambitious entrepreneurs, homeless screams, talented street-musicians, and the awakening of cafes and boutiques, Maya reveled in the vibrant pulse of the city. In these bustling streets, the atmosphere remained constant—an unyielding cacophony of life that echoed the perpetual change in the world. Dodging traffic, she veered towards a shadowy alley leading to an emergency stairwell. Maya rarely, if ever, used the front door. It was an unspoken agreement; Riley never locked her bay window, allowing Maya to enter at any time. Moving with accustomed ease, her body synchronized with the familiar creaks and groans of the aging metal, every nuance a testament to the history etched into the stairs.

Greeted by the warm gaze of large brown eyes peering through the glass, Riley eagerly anticipated Maya's arrival. "Peaches!" the enthusiastic tween exclaimed, promptly flinging the window open for her friend.

In playful mimicry, Maya echoed, "Riles!" Without hesitation, she dropped her bag to the ground, surrendering to the comfort of a heartfelt hug within the welcoming embrace of her best friend's arms.

“It’s our last first day of middle school” the brunette uttered, a tinge of sadness overtaking her expression, followed by a feeble smile. Riley's contagious excitement had been a constant on every back-to-school day in the preceding years. Unwavering, her friend radiated the same joy that would light up the cheeks of a four-year-old discovering candies for the first time. The two girls stood inches apart, with Riley experiencing growth spurt over the summer. Unlike her, Maya remained distinctly short.

"I know, isn't that exciting?" the blonde chimed in, attempting to uplift the mood. Riley's room embodied everything Maya had ever envisioned for a perfect bedroom. A spacious double-sized bed adorned with a plush duvet, an abundance of pillows, boy band posters adorning the walls, and a soft white carpet inviting her toes to luxuriate. Riley had been blessed with two income parents and a well-situated city apartment.

"No, it's terrifying," the brunette confessed, squeezing out the last remnants of pent-up affection within her. She could count on one hand the number of people permitted to touch her. "What if it never gets better than this?" The undertone of sadness in her friend's voice hinted at a need for reassurance.

"It's going to be alright, Riles, 'cause we got each other," Maya assured, releasing her friend after a few seconds, both finally able to breathe properly. "I still don't know what to wear," confessed the brown-haired girl to her rebellious friend. Maya smirked, casting her eyes over the spacious room and noting the walk-in wardrobe concealed behind a white door.

“Isn’t this what I am here for?”

They scattered around Riley's closet, opening the gates to what Maya recognized as clothing heaven. While Riley's taste differed from Maya's, most of Maya's clothes were either thrifted, stolen, or hand-me-downs. She cast a shameful glance at the dirty shirt she had been wearing—a grey graphic tee so faded that the design had lost its vibrancy. It stood in stark contrast to the brightly colored, clean, and neatly organized racks of clothes, some still bearing the crispness of recent steaming. Though Maya would never show it, a twinge of shame lingered in her mind as she wore the worn-out grey relic amid Riley's fashionable walk-in.

Riley guided Maya through a selection of blouses, skirts, and jeans, each one meticulously chosen to match the vibe Riley envisioned. Initially, nothing seemed to pop enough for the impactful first impression Riley sought, or perhaps, nothing had the power to quell the nerves stirring within the brunette. Shifting to another rack, Maya explored Riley's dress section, stumbling upon a charming flowery dress. The brunette's excitement mirrored the enthusiasm from earlier. Pairing it with a brown jean jacket and the new flowery Converse gifted by her mother, Maya's chosen ensemble for her promised an adorable and memorable look.

"Can I borrow a shirt?" Maya inquired, perusing Riley's extensive collection of colored tees while the latter changed in the room.

"Of course!"

Maya ran her fingers over the different textures of the clothing, faced with the delightful challenge of choosing one. The myriad options presented a dilemma—which one to pick? Settling on a Chicago Bulls shirt, she reasoned that the red tones would complement her black leggings, and the slightly larger size added a casual flair. She remembered Riley receiving it from a family friend who wanted to gift it to the colorful tween. "Knicks only." Had been her excuse for not wearing the piece so far. Maya had chuckled at the privileged comment. As she pulled the shirt over her bare chest, the sound of the bedroom door opening reached her ears.

Mr. Cory Matthews, also known as Riley's father, was an enigmatic figure. Serving as their history teacher since middle school commenced, his feelings about Maya and Riley's friendship oscillated. At times, it appeared as though he wasn't entirely pleased with their bond, while on other occasions, it seemed destined.

"Girls," he greeted. "I have to leave now for a meeting with the board. Can I count on you, Maya?" He pointed at the blonde. "To show Riley how to use the metro?"

"Yes," she nodded affirmatively.

"Then, this is for you," the man said, reaching into his pocket and producing a plastic card adorned with the New York Transit system logo. "This is yours, take care of it," he emphasized, focusing his gaze primarily on the brunette. As a father, he handed over the key to freedom, patiently waiting for his child to accept it and make it her own, just as he had done in his younger years.

"I promise," Riley assured with heartfelt sincerity.

7:02. Monday. September 2^nd. New York. Metro.

The girls had already checked their passes, or in Maya’s case, bypassed the rails, and now, they patiently waited for their train to arrive. Riley observed at least three homeless men peacefully sleeping along the tunnel's edges. Another woman captured the subway's acoustics, singing an acapella song that resonated with humanity's grief. Another individual operated a makeshift jewelry stand on an improvised cardboard counter. Under different circumstances, the tween girl might have been apprehensive about approaching these strangers, but today, nothing could wipe the wide smile off her faces, akin to a Colgate commercial.

"Teach me how to be like you," chanted the brunette, gripping Maya's hand to avoid losing her in the bustling crowd. They had been waiting for a few minutes for the impending train, standing and watching as the minutes ticked away on the clock.

The blonde couldn't help but smile at her friend's earnest attempt. If Riley knew better, she might not have wished to be anything like Maya. Having known each other since birth, Maya and Riley's mothers were old acquaintances, and the girls had met during an early playdate. Born just hours apart, they shared a close bond, although their parents never quite got along as well as they had hoped.

After a while, it became evident that the only reason their parents maintained a connection was for the sake of the girls. Riley would forever be grateful for all the times she had sought refuge at the Matthews' household to escape her own. Maya, adept at concealing her living conditions, always ensured her mother and she never revealed anything compromising. Riley, on the other hand, was a terrible liar and an unintentional snitch, but the rest of her endearing personality more than compensated for these few flaws. The brunette was simply too innocent to keep anything hidden.

The two girls hopped onto the train, securing their spots by grabbing a potentially bacteria-infested metal pole. Riley's jittery hand clung to her bag, where a small pocket held a lip gloss she had purchased with Maya a week earlier.

"Wow, Riley! You don't usually do makeup in school," Maya remarked, observing her friend's unexpected choice.

"What I forgot to mention is that I am completely reinventing myself. I want to be just as cool as you are now," Riley confessed, a gleam of excitement in her eyes.

“Yeah” Maya stared around “Let’s see how cool you can be when you look at him.” The guy Maya was referring to, was a chestnut-haired cutie she had spotted as soon as she hopped on the cart. The guy had been sitting on the far edge of a seat next to the metro door. He had been watching his phone the whole time. Finally, looking up, as if he knew the girls were watching, his piercing blue eyes gazed at the tweens. He smiled kindly and checked his phone again, a little blush on his cheeks.

Riley's nervous giggles hinted that the boy had indeed made quite an impression on her. Sporting the same shade of pink on her cheeks, Riley struggled to form coherent sentences, producing a string of strange sounds like 'Eh Ah Oh.' Oddly enough, Maya herself felt a slight warmth in her stomach after glancing at the guy across from them. She attributed it to school jitters or the lack of a proper breakfast, or so she thought.

"This should do as your first lesson, watch, and learn," Maya declared, taking a few steps toward the boy. The blonde girl confidently leaped in, positioning herself right in front of the boy of similar age. Placing one hand on her hip, Maya prepared to impart her wisdom.

"Hi, I'm Maya, and I think you're really cute," the blonde declared, extending her hand for a handshake. Before he could respond, she swiftly sat right next to him. "I also think we should date." Seizing his hand in hers, she felt an odd calmness as she continued, "Now, this is totally not working; I clearly put all the work into the relationship."

Releasing his hand, she stood up again. "It's you, not me. I hope we can still be friends." Maya examined him closely, her nose just centimeters from his. "Not really." Without a second thought, she left without acknowledging his reaction, missing the contagious laughter that followed. Joining her nervous friend, who hadn't missed a beat of the show, Maya acted as if this wasn't one of the first times she had ever approached a boy so carelessly, even though it was.

"If you want to be like me, you should go up to that boy and charm his smile off," Maya suggested with a mischievous grin, pushing her friend to take the initiative. Rebel at heart, Maya enjoyed a good challenge.

"I can't, Maya. What if he doesn't want to?" Riley protested, but before she knew it, she had been propelled by her now-former friend right toward the metro's charming guy. Landing squarely on the same hot topic they had been discussing, a nervous Riley stammered out a timid "Hi" to the guy whose legs her own now rested upon. His laughing blue eyes welcomed her with a warmth she hadn't expected.

"Hi," he responded this time, prompting Maya to perk her head to hear his voice. Riley, in her own nervous way, blurted out, "We were just talking about you. You used to date my friend Maya."

"I'm Lucas," he introduced himself, holding Riley a little closer as the train carelessly came to a stop. From where Maya stood, she could barely hear, mostly relying on reading their lips.

"Riley," the now shy girl added. "I'm going to go now. It was nice meeting you, Lucas." Riley stood up, leaving the train, and joining her giggling friend for the remainder of their ride. It had been the best first day of classes in the history of school. Maya and Riley exited the cart without a backward glance, running as quickly as possible to leave the station and enter the streets and into their school halls.

The giggling girls arrived at their lockers when a brown-haired lanky boy approached the two.

"Farkle!" the brunette chanted before hugging him tightly. "You're back! How was your genius summer camp?" Farkle Minkus, the smartest person they knew, always engaged in a friendly competition with Riley to determine who could outsmart the other. The most certainty-driven robot boy claimed to be in love with both girls since the dawn of time. He had been sent to camp for the last few weeks of summer.

"Riles, Peaches!" He hugged the blonde girl next, expressing as much affection as his timid frame allowed. "It went well. I met Scott Harrison he’s a NASA engineer, and we even got to read−"

Maya had long drifted off from the conversation, as discussing summer readings was the last thing she wanted to chat about. "...in the metro." Maya's head tilted up, catching up on the cutie of the day.

"What if it was the best moment of my life? What if nothing happens to me ever?" the brunette asked. Maya calmly pushed her through the doors of their first class of the day: History.

"I'm sure there are still loads of things just waiting to happen," Maya sighed, raising her eyes to the surprise of the day. Lucas was sitting right in front of them, his blue eyes locking with hers. Turning back, she heard her friend scream.

"DAdd, what are you doing here?" Riley's dad was yet again their appointed main teacher of the year, much to their dismay. Some things never changed.

8:05. Monday. September 2^nd. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

Lucas continued to look back at them.

"He must be new," Farkle remarked, dropping his books on the second-row front desk. "Hi, I'm Farkle. And these are my girlfriends: Maya and Riley." Farkle put his arms around the girls' shoulders to prove his point. Maya removed his arm from her shoulder, distancing herself as much as possible with a grumble.

"And I'm Lucas," the boy responded, smiling at the blonde's apparent disgust. He had a southern accent, though Maya couldn't help but wonder how the two girls hadn't noticed that he had gotten off at the same stop as them earlier.

“Yeah Farkle, no need to introduce us” Maya finally let out sitting behind the desk he had greeted them from. “What Alabama here forgot to mention was that we used to date” She winked at him putting her feet on the desk.

He laughed. “I’m actually from Texas.” He smiled deviously and tossed her feet away from his face and down to the ground. Maya hadn’t expected his hands to touch her ankles. With a bolt of electricity running from her feet to her arms, she grinned.

“Even better cowboy”

Riley stayed put throughout the conversation. Her bubbly personality, typically the first to introduce the gang, remained silent. Turning back to her friend, Maya found the girl shyly introducing herself to Lucas once again.

"Hi," her little hand raised in a shy greeting.

"Hi," like a pro, Lucas seemed oblivious to the girl's blush. Maya gestured a little sign to Farkle, indicating he was the guy they had been discussing earlier. The mischievous genius picked it up and mimicked kissing faces to the blonde while finally taking a seat right beside her, behind Riley.

"Class is about to start," Mr. Matthews warned the wandering students in the corridor and opened the class door. In the last few seconds before the bell, some students approached Lucas, asking questions. Yogi seemed intrigued by the new arrival. Still silent, Riley organized her desk properly.

"What do you think is for lunch?" Maya asked her friend. Farkle was deep in conversation with Yogi and Lucas about the new metro station on Waldo Street. She assumed the brunette's silence was caused by the cutie she couldn't stop looking at. “I have been thinking about Bertie’s pudding all summer” the blonde still received no response. The genius’ head turned at the silence from the two usually chatty girls.

"I forgot my wallet at home, could you pay for me, Farkle?" Maya asked without specifying what exactly Farkle needed to pay for. He knew exactly what.

"Everything for those eyes," he joked. Maya grabbed one of his green notebooks; he always had an extra one for her.

"You let her take your stuff?" Lucas asked, glancing at the two.

"We have an arrangement," Farkle cut in before Maya could say anything.

"What kind of arrangement?"

"None that concerns you," the blonde replied before Mr. Matthews greeted the class for the start of the semester. She would have to see his full head of hair for the rest of the period, might as well enjoy it while it lasted. An odd smile crept onto Maya's cheeks. He had pretty hair, she thought. The kind that would feel soft under her hands. An urge to mess with his perfect chestnut head gripped her. It would pass, surely.

12:45. Monday. September 2^nd. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

Lunch time in Middle school was akin to a battlefield. The competition for the last pudding, the final slice of pizza, or the remaining apple juice was fierce. No one wanted to end up with the dry, neglected raisins instead of the occasional coveted brownie. Your seating arrangement determined your status - were you among the popular kids, part of the bullied crowd, part of the normal bunch, or one of the outcasts? Middle school, much like high school, was a stage for social hierarchies.

Riley, Maya, and Farkle formed an unconventional alliance. They weren't neatly confined to popular or outcast categories; each of them could have easily found a place within those labels individually. Yet, together, they defied easy classification, creating a unique trio that transcended the typical social norms of their middle school years.

Riley's endearing qualities, characterized by her unwavering dedication and kindness, earned her the affection of many. However, these very virtues also made her susceptible to the actions of ill-intentioned kids and those with a penchant for cruelty. Her radiant spirit and joyful demeanor found expression in various extracurricular activities, becoming familiar traits to those within her close circle, who had grown accustomed to her flair for the dramatic.

Farkle's exceptional intelligence was often viewed as an anomaly, setting him apart from his peers. People hesitated to approach him, and he received limited attention. Despite his attempts to forge new friendships, he found some success among fellow enthusiasts of intellectual pursuits. However, even within this circle, acquaintances would occasionally distance themselves, perhaps intimidated by Farkle's consistent victories in their board games.

Maya, on the other hand, embodied a peculiar blend of coolness and rebellion. Her formidable gaze could send shivers down the spine, yet it served as a shield for her friends, deterring bullies in her presence. Strangely, people admired her from a distance, akin to gazing at the moon in a star-studded night sky – an enigmatic allure that simultaneously drew and repelled those who observed her.

Since their very first day in middle school, the trio claimed their territory in the cafeteria, securing a spot close to the food offerings. Maya, ever the opportunist, attempted to discreetly nab a few items whenever the lunch lady turned her attention elsewhere. Riley, on the other hand, would panic and devise strategies to return the pilfered items before Maya could indulge. Observing Maya's lack of lunch money, Farkle stepped in, generously offering to cover the cost. In return, Maya allowed him the liberty of referring to her as his girlfriend without any objection. Farkle, savvy enough to recognize the advantages of aligning with Maya, found safety from bullies in their unique friendship.

However, on this particular day, a subtle shift in the atmosphere prompted Riley to suggest a change in their usual seating arrangement. She proposed the middle-right table, dangerously close to the bustling hub of the popular kids. Oddly enough, the trio opted to stick together, maintaining their unity. Their unique dynamic made them unapproachable; potential friends hesitated, deterred by Maya's intimidating presence or overwhelmed by the combined force of intellectual abilities of Riley and Farkle. Plus, social rules dictated a certain amount of time before showing allegiances, time that had run out long ago for some. 

"Aw, look at him. He's searching for a place to sit," Maya observed, placing her plate down and silently expressing gratitude to Farkle for covering her lunch.

"Do you think he'll sit with us?" asked the brunette, opening her juice bottle. Maya rose from her seat, gesturing for the cowboy to join them. Her waving hand drew raised eyebrows from those nearby, but the cowboy appeared oblivious.

“He is coming now, what do I do?” Riley started mumbling uncontrollably. Her knees shaking the table along with her.

"Just act normally," Maya sighed, savoring the first bite of her long-awaited meal. The growling stomach beast had finally been tamed.

"But I don't act normal, like ever," Riley panicked.

"Remember how you were this morning," Maya suggested, offering a reassuring smile as she continued to enjoy her lunch.

"But there's no push and pole this time," she rambled, frustration evident in her voice as she desperately sought something to occupy her hands, anything to distract from the impending conversation.

"I'm talking about speaking to him with words."

"What if I can't find the right words?" Riley questioned, anxiety creeping into her tone.

"Just say 'hey,'" Farkle suggested, his patience wearing thin.

"Hey," Riley attempted, echoing the same tone Farkle had just instructed.

"Hey back," the cowboy greeted. Riley turned around to find the very person she was so nervous about seeing standing right in front of her.

"Can I join you guys?" the timid voice asked. Maya grunted and playfully pinched Riley in the ribcage. "Yes," the brunette mumbled.

As the cowboy settled into the empty seat at their table, the bustling cafeteria hummed with conversations and the clattering of trays. The aroma of various lunch options wafted through the air, competing for attention. Trays laden with an assortment of food items filled the neighboring tables, and the distant murmur of laughter and chatter created a lively atmosphere. Amidst the vibrant setting, the trio found themselves navigating the usual cafeteria chaos, now with an unexpected addition to their company.

"What did you take?" inquired the evil genius, eyeing his plate.

"Sloppy joe and a devil's cake," the cowboy replied, joining the trio in their irregular corner of the bustling cafeteria.

Glancing at the sloppy joe on her plate and Riley's chicken pot pie, Farkle finally quipped, "As long as you don't take both at the same time, I'm going to like you." The boy looked at him with a hint of confusion, prompting Maya to question the meaning of his words. The trio shared a chuckle as they eased into the lunchtime banter amidst the lively cafeteria atmosphere.

“So, you cheated on me for him” played off Farkle still trying to put his arm around the blonde.

“Huckleberry was a part of my rebellious years; you wouldn’t have understood.” She had moved away from him, indicating she wasn’t in the mood to joke about his proximity.

"Nan, I completely get it; look at him. He's a hunk." For another time that day, Maya felt her cheeks redden. She had barely felt the warmth when Lucas replied, finally acknowledging their comments.

"I'm not, I'm just Lucas," The cafeteria buzzed around them, with trays clattering and laughter echoing in the air.

"With those eyes, no, you aren't," Farkle teased, keenly aware of the two girls' reactions to the cowboy. Lucas was undeniably attractive—practically a cover model for Tween Cowboy Magazine. His light brown hair framed deep-sea eyes, a squared jaw, and broad shoulders. Texas food must hit differently.

But maybe it was the lack of food that had made Maya delirious. She'd heard Topanga, Riley's mom, talking about the impending hormonal changes. Maya had been the only one in their class not to have grown during the summer, not even by an inch. Even Riley had to buy herself a whole new wardrobe for her new proportions, while Maya remained as petite and small as an elementary school student.

Maya scrutinized her friend. Riley's luscious, curly ends flowed gracefully down to her hips, creating a stark contrast to her petite frame. Despite towering over Maya by a foot, Riley's round face and winsome smile retained an endearing, childlike quality.

"Hand over your number, and we'll add you to a group chat," Farkle proposed, extending his brand-new phone to the beaming cowboy. The undercurrent of nervousness in Farkle's actions didn't escape Maya's perceptive gaze, and the choice of words he used resonated subtly in the air.

Farkle's baby face, though still retaining a youthful charm, had matured a bit with a few extra inches added to his height since the last time she saw him. Lacking a personal phone, and the sole device at home being her mother's work cell, Maya couldn't help but feel a sense of disconnection. Riley's morning comment about Farkle's return underscored the moments she might have missed due to her limited access to technology at home.

She was aware that her friends didn't mind; after all, everyone in their group had their quirks. Yet, it still felt disheartening to be the odd one out. Perhaps Lucas' presence could bring some equilibrium, she mused, hoping the cowboy would opt to associate with their group. With only a few days until he made his decision on allegiances, Maya couldn't help but feel a glimmer of anticipation.

"Thanks," Lucas said, his gaze shifting to Riley for her response. The brunette giggled, signaling that maybe the cowboy had already made his choice—or perhaps Maya had made it for him.

Chapter Text

6:34. Tuesday. September 3rd. Maya's studio.

In the life of a middle schooler, the first day of school felt like a heartwarming reunion with old friends, while the second day revealed that you hadn’t missed them at all. On Tuesday, Maya awoke much like the day before, on the couch tired and lonely. Her mother's absence was a welcome relief. The small window was left open, a gush of cold air transporting the sounds of metro and train rails reverberated in her ears.

In the midst of a passing subway, Maya cast a glance at her empty cupboards. The growls of her stomach were a harsh reminder of her meager breakfast options. She brushed her messy hair’s knots through her tired fingers and snatched one of the few tattered shirts her mother had managed to launder the night before. With a horridly bright orange bag filled only with donated supplies, Maya let out a grunt of frustration. Every passing year seemed to make the act of exhaling more difficult.

As if on autopilot, Maya's body acted before her mind could catch up. She found herself at Riley's window, the stiffness of her sore body and the ache in her back a testament to the unforgiving mattress on her old couch. Riley, on the other hand, was engrossed in contemplation of her options for the second day.

"Peaches!" The brunette called out to her from her foot mirror.

"Riles!" Maya feigned enthusiasm, leaping onto the invitingly plush bed. The comfort was a welcome reprieve. Opting to shut her eyes for a moment, she hoped to steal a few seconds of peace before the ever-oblivious Riley bombarded her with more questions.

“What do you think?” Riley was showing off her red skirt and white blouse, twirling and giggling at Maya’s stern expression.

“Breakfast!” Riley’s mother called out from the corridor to Maya’s grunt.

"Coming," responded the elder of the two.

Born fourteen hours apart, Riley arrived in the early hours of the morning after a laborious and impassioned delivery, while Katy Hart welcomed Maya in and out within the span of an hour, later in the evening. The two girls, as dissimilar as the sun and the moon, hailed from opposite ends of the spectrum – one born into opulence, the other into poverty. Despite these disparities, an inexplicable force always seemed to bind them side by side.

Maya glanced outside the door and exchanged greetings with Riley's younger brother, August, now more commonly referred to as Auggie. At seven years old, he clutched Mr. Googly to his chest, a clear sign of his reluctance to part with childhood comfort.

As they headed to the kitchen, Maya took a moment to glance at their decor. The apartment was homey, featuring a large couch in the center of the living room, adorned with blankets and pillows. Another large bay window provided a glimpse of the outside, and the kitchen was tucked into the corner. The corridor led to three rooms and a bathroom, adding to the cozy atmosphere of the Matthews' abode. Maya sighed; her luck had run out the second she was made alive.

"Good morning, Maya," greeted Riley's mother, Topanga, unruffled by the presence of the blonde in the dining area. It was a common occurrence for Maya to share a meal with them. Sitting by Riley’s side on the bench, Maya sighted with envy at the full table. Orange juice, plate of fresh fruits, toasts, butters and jams stacked up, a real breakfast delight. "Eggs?" Topanga offered the kids. A peculiar sound from the corridor hinted at the imminent arrival of the girls' teacher.

"Are you riding with us this morning?" inquired M. Matthews, catching the tween’s eye as he entered, Maya mentally accepted the offer to take the car. It was a safer way to travel, since she didn’t have a metro card. Her usual attitude was to jump over or hide behind Riley as she entered.

"No, we'll be fine, thanks," Riley replied with a mouthful of eggs before the blonde had a chance to speak. "I don't want everybody to think I'm just my father's precious little thing," the brunette added, glancing at the time.

"But you are!" Her father remarked, seeing a smile on her history teacher's face, Maya was a reminder of the cold sheets she had woken up to.

“I doon’t feel soo goood this morning Mommy” Auggie tried with his overly articulated ‘o’s, but his mother saw through it.

“You can’t stay here alone for the rest of the day.” Topanga defended adding, “What about the new girl in your class? Won’t she be missing you?” The woman was a hard cookie to crack, as she was not only a wonderful mother to the two kids, but also a hardworking lawyer in a legitimate firm in Wall Street.

“Oh yeah, your new girlfriend” Riley joked finishing up her plate in a rush.

“Auggie has a girlfriend already?” Maya asked in Riley’s ear.

“Her name is Ava, and she just moved here from California” Auggie replied all too excitedly.

“Wow” Maya commented gulping her last bite of homey goodness. Her stomach had been filled thankfully; she couldn’t have been more grateful for this family.

“And you!” Mr. Matthews turned to his daughter. “I’ve seen things, heard things.” Riley was reddening by the second. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t” His statement made her nod three times too fast. Topanga laughed lightly.

“It’s not like you haven’t started thinking early about girls” The activist countered.

“Well, I…” Mr. Matthews was coming up short. “She is…”

“−Don’t you dare say it’s because she is a girl” The fierce brown eyes of the mother were strangling his words.

“I am ready to go, what about you Auggie?” Mr. Matthews turned to his younger boy.

“Yep, all done”.

“Let’s go then!” The father pointed at the door in a pirate voice. The Matthews were a strange bunch. Maya had been used to their quirks, she didn’t mind them, if anything it was a welcomed reprieve at her own absent parents. 

7:56. Tuesday. September 3rd. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

In less than two days, the delicate balance of attention in Girls' world had begun to teeter. The arrival of a new "pretty boy" at John Quincy Adams Middle School ignited an undeniable shift in loyalties and friendships. Although the school wasn't massive by New York standards, with only about eighty students per grade, the arrival of a newcomer had sparked a ripple effect. As students navigated the hallways and classrooms, the unofficial ranking of popularity and attractiveness was quietly undergoing a recalibration to accommodate the presence of the new face. Lucas found himself caught in the midst of this social structure, his status and relationships suddenly subject to scrutiny and adjustment.

With mere hours remaining before Lucas found himself inexorably tied to a particular group, the weight of his impending decision hung heavy in the air. Unspoken rules dictated that after a certain amount of time spent in the company of a group, one was implicitly recognized as a member. For Lucas, newly arrived at John Quincy Addams Middle School, this meant he had only a fleeting window of opportunity to showcase his interests and allegiances.

The various social cliques vied for his attention with enticing offers. The popular crowd extended their invitation during breaks, eager to assimilate him into their glamorous fold. The nerds, with their boundless enthusiasm for all things geeky, welcomed him to join in a game of Magix after school. Meanwhile, the theater kids, with their dramatic flair, urged him to audition for the upcoming school play. Even the normies, with their laid-back demeanor, proposed he ride the metro with them.

Yet amidst the flurry of invitations and enticements, Lucas remained undecided, his allegiance still unclaimed. Each group presented its own allure, each path offering a glimpse into a different facet of middle school life. As the clock ticked relentlessly onward, students felt the weight of his impending choice pressing upon them, his decision poised to shape their year.

By aligning themselves with Lucas, a normie or a wannabe popular could secure their place in the social hierarchy. Becoming Lucas's best friend was akin to possessing a golden key that granted access to any and every social group. With the magnetic allure of an athlete and the charm of a romantic theatre enthusiast, Lucas possessed the perfect combination of features capable of winning over even the coldest of hearts.

In the competitive landscape of middle school social dynamics, Lucas stood out as a prized commodity, coveted by those seeking to elevate their own status. Like a prime steak enticing the sharpest teeth, Lucas's presence promised opportunities for advancement and inclusion, making him a highly sought-after ally in the relentless pursuit of popularity.

Oddly, the boy began to integrate himself into their trio with increasing frequency, planting seeds of doubt in their minds. Was Lucas playing hard to get or did he simply enjoy their company? Mere hours after soughing out Farkle for their phone number, he lingered an inordinate amount of time during breaks to converse with their group.

It had never happened before; people didn't just become "their friends." The trio operated as a self-contained unit, yet in Lucas's presence, everything seemed to shift. This unsettled Maya deeply. Was it disloyal to feel curious about the boy? Her friends would likely argue so. Maya had grown weary of the endless back-and-forth between Riley's incessant overthinking and Farkle's defensive reluctance to accept Lucas into their group. More accurately, Maya was tired of coaxing Riley to take action and of Farkle's attempts to rationalize his insecurities.

"He's going to have to make a choice soon, Maya!" Riley's voice echoed down the metal box. As they stood by their lockers, the first period looming ahead. Riley fiddled with a lock, repeatedly unlocking and clasping it shut, her thoughts tangled in a knot. Maya attempted to stop her, but Riley persisted, her agitation evident.

"We were always fine on our own!" Farkle whispered nervously, his expression mirroring Maya's concern. She nodded in agreement; they had always been perfectly content as a trio, and nothing had ever come between them.

"Can't I just text him?" Riley begged, her lovesick gaze pleading for a solution from her friends. Maya let out an exasperated grunt, feeling utterly out of control of the situation.

"It's not as simple as that," Farkle muttered quietly. "If we try to explain everything to him, he'll probably run away." Maya nodded in agreement; they couldn't risk scaring Lucas off by coming across as desperate or strange. They had to handle this delicately. Delicate just happened to be Maya’s middle name.

"I can ask," Maya declared, her determination evident in her tone. With a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, she pushed past her own apprehensions. Perhaps her tough exterior would intimidate him into retreat, or maybe it would inspire him to rise to the challenge of joining their group. Either way, the decision needed to be made; Lucas couldn't remain in limbo forever. People needed to know to which group he belonged. Human nature dictated choices. In the complex web of middle school social dynamics, defining one's place was essential. It was a test of character, a rite of passage that Lucas couldn't escape.

Scanning the corridor with predatory precision, Maya fixated on her target with the intensity of an eagle honing in on its prey. Her determination to thwart his integration into their group burned fiercely within her. Whether he proved himself worthy or crumbled under the pressure of new acquaintances mattered little to her. What mattered was that a decision was made—one way or another. An electric thrill surged through her veins, igniting a spark of excitement in her eyes as she braced herself to confront the challenge head-on. She was prepared to assert her dominance and assert her authority over the situation.

"Hucky McBoing McBoing!" Maya's voice echoed down the hallway, cutting through the ambient chatter. Despite the unconventional moniker, his demeanor remained unchanged, his gaze steady as he sought out the source of the playful jab. A faint hint of amusement danced in his eyes, mirrored by the subtle shift in his posture as he tightened his grip on his locker door. Maya couldn't help but acknowledge his stoic response with a silent nod of approval—points earned in her book for meeting her challenge head-on.

"Yes, blondie," he responded, his tone laced with a hint of defiance, clearly unfazed by Maya's provocation. As she closed the distance between them, leaning casually against the lockers beside him, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. The atmosphere crackled with tension; the anticipation palpable as curious onlookers observed the exchange between the two contrasting personalities. It was a peculiar dance of confrontation, a rare sight among middle schoolers who often shied away from such direct exchanges. The fear of rejection and humiliation loomed large. But not for Maya. And it appeared that Lucas wasn’t an apple easily plucked from the tree either.

"Have you made your decision yet?" Her lips involuntarily twisted into a subtle pout. A peculiar churn swirled in her stomach, and his piercing blue eyes only fueled the nervousness she was determined not to reveal. Maya had seldom encountered someone daring enough to challenge her so directly.

"Are you talking about what I think you're talking about?" His voice dropped to an almost playful whisper, and Maya couldn't help but notice how his body seemed to draw closer to hers. Despite his towering height and the fact that he was a guy, Maya was determined not to let the cowboy win this confrontation. Her gaze remained fixed on him.

"You've gotta choose a friend group, Rodeo. Everybody wants you," Maya asserted, her gaze unwavering as she locked eyes deeper into him. To her surprise, his reaction was not what she expected. There was a momentary flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of surprise perhaps, before they shifted slightly to the side. It was a small victory for Maya, winning the eye contest, but she knew it was just one move in a larger game.

“A friend group?” He asked in confusion.

"Yes, Huckleberry, as in decide who you're eating with and partnering with in projects," Maya clarified with a smile. She found herself enjoying the way his expression shifted, adding an intriguing depth to his features. As the scent of passing students wafted by, she caught a whiff of his cologne—a sea breeze aroma with a hint of grass. It was a scent that lingered in the air, leaving Maya with a curious sense of intrigue. Her lips parted slightly.

"You said everybody wanted me..." His voice carried a hint of curiosity as he observed her frown. "Do you want me?" Despite his attempt at innocence, there was a glimmer of mischief in his blue eyes. Lucas was testing her, and Maya could see right through it.

"Me?" Maya scoffed, suppressing the urge to laugh. "I don't care," she replied, aiming for nonchalance. But beneath her composed exterior, a storm of conflicting emotions churned.

"Yet, here you are asking me..." Lucas's smile widened, his playful demeanor not faltering. Maya opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, Missy Bradfort, a certified mean girl, swooped in to interrupt their conversation. Her rose perfume enveloped them, and Maya resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at the overpowering scent.

"Lucas!" Missy exclaimed; her voice sugary sweet. "Where are you headed?" Her hair was styled in a perfect knot atop her head, adding to her picture-perfect appearance. Missy had the voice of an angel, but Maya knew better than to be fooled by her facade. They had once been friendly with the girl, until she showed her true colors and embraced her role as the school's resident Barbie.

"Hey, Missy," Lucas greeted, his usual confidence replaced by a noticeable awkwardness. Maya observed this with keen interest, noting the rare shyness that seemed to surface in Lucas's interactions with Missy. She couldn't help but wonder if it was Missy's fault for eliciting such discomfort from him, or if Lucas himself was responsible for making their exchanges seem so painfully awkward.

Maya didn't bother to glance back at the pair as she made her way to her two expectant friends. They had been waiting eagerly for her update. "He's going to think about it," Maya whispered to the pair in an improvised Texan accent. Riley's face lit up with excitement as she clasped her hands together in anticipation, while Farkle observed the popular girl and Lucas with a wary eye. He wasn't convinced yet, his skepticism evident in the furrow of his brow and the slight downturn of his lips.

2:59. Tuesday. September 3rd. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

The day crawled by at an agonizing pace, presenting Maya with unexpected academic hurdles that left her feeling out of her depth compared to her classmates. Instead of grappling with her lack of understanding, she adopted an air of aggression and disinterest, masking her insecurities with indifference.

Meanwhile, Lucas succumbed to Missy's persistent requests and joined the popular crowd for lunch, discreetly apologizing to Maya amidst her curious glances. She brushed off the apology, unsure why he felt the need to offer it for simply sitting with a different group.

As Riley fixated on the interaction between the pinkie ribboned girl and her prince charming, Farkle grumbled discontentedly over his meat loaf, his frustration evident in his aggressive sips of apple juice. Maya, however, remained remarkably composed, punctuating the tense atmosphere with witty quips about Barbie and Ken that failed to resonate with her tense companions.

With the cowboy now firmly ensconced in the popular clique, Riley concocted fanciful scenarios in a desperate bid to win him back, while Farkle resigned himself to the inevitability of her plans falling flat. It was a comical spectacle, watching their futile attempts to reclaim their lost comrade from the clutches of the in-crowd.

Their last class of the day was going to start in a second. Science. Sturdy stools awaited their occupants, and the oversized tables, designed to mimic a laboratory setting, bore witness to countless experiments. The walls, adorned with a large periodic table and lively biology posters, hinted at the potential excitement hidden within a terribly complex subject matter.

As students bustled in, their chatter echoed a vibrant energy. Some settled into their seats, chatting animatedly, while others exchanged mischievous glances, anticipating a break from the academic routine, nothing like a good nap before the bell.  Mr. Thompson, the elderly teacher with a white lab coat, shuffled around with an amused laugh.

Despite the initial cheer of her friends, Maya was in an almost panicky state. Math and Science were her worst subjects. Her brain didn’t function for such intricate lessons. Riley and Farkle had, a long time ago, chosen to partner up together, and leave Maya to her own resources. Their wits and chemistry made for perfect scores every time. When it came to school, nothing could break the duo. They were ensembled to carry each other. While Maya usually compelled a scared student or two, to partner up, she had grown tired of never counting on her friends when school was involved. Sure, Farkle and Riley accepted to associate groups when it benefited the two, like in French class, and art. The only subjects she was skilled enough to beat the academic curve.

As Maya cursed herself for yet another year of academic challenge, Lucas chose that moment to sit on the empty stool next to Maya. Hearing her friend Riley’s surprised gasp, she turned to the cowboy’s grin. She herself had been surprised. Especially considering how they had parted hours earlier.

"I choose you," he mouthed as the bell rang, his words barely audible over the chatter of students. "You guys are my friends now, if you'll have me." A blush colored his cheeks, betraying his attempt at confidence. Maya felt a flutter in her stomach, an unexpected warmth spreading through her chest at his words. It was a simple gesture, but it meant more to her than she could express.

Riley, unable to contain her excitement, leaped onto her nearby stool, exclaiming, "Yes! Of course!" before quickly settling back down under the teacher's stern gaze.

“Aren’t we excited to learn today.” the teacher began, his voice a monotone drone that echoed through the classroom.

Maya couldn't shake off the words Lucas had uttered earlier, "I choose you." They lingered in her mind. Was he serious? The idea of Lucas choosing her seemed absurd, almost surreal. Her? Maya frowned. She stole a glance at the cowboy, catching a glimpse of a shy smile playing on his lips. It was as if he regretted saying it, as if he was embarrassed by his own admission.

"Are you sure you want to stick with us, heehaw?" Maya dared, her voice barely above a whisper as the teacher droned on about his summer exploration. She locked eyes with Lucas, waiting for his response.

"I like you guys," Lucas replied, his voice cleared as he tried matching Maya's hushed tone. The teacher may have been annoyed by the light chit-chat, but M. Thomson wasn't one for discipline.

"Not afraid to join the dark side, then," Maya whispered teasingly, her eyes flickering mischievously as the teacher continued his first lesson of revision.

"I might surprise you there," Lucas replied with a wink, turning his attention back to the lecture. With Lucas officially joining their group, the trio had now become a quartet. Maya couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope stirring within her heart.

As the class progressed, Maya found herself stealing glances at Lucas, wondering how his inclusion would affect future group projects. Despite her uncertainty, there was a newfound sense of excitement in the air—a feeling that perhaps things were about to change for the better. The cowboy had chosen a team, officially and Missy was not going to like to hear it.

Chapter Text

1:47. Wednesday. September 4^th. Maya's studio.

"Jo, I'm home!" shouted a drunken man as he staggered into the room, nearly collapsing onto the pull-out couch where a form was sleeping. The metallic clang of her mother's heels hitting the ground added to the cacophony of noise, and her loud snoring rivaled the passing trains outside. Despite the obvious intrusion, her mother seemed completely oblivious to the presence of a grown man so close to her thirteen-year-old daughter.

Maya's eyes remained wide open, fixated on the darkness that enveloped the loft like a suffocating shroud. A single tear traced a path down her face, reflecting the dim light filtering in from the streetlamp outside. Sleep eluded her like a fleeting shadow, slipping through her fingers with each passing moment. The silence that once offered solace now felt oppressive, suffused with an eerie emptiness that echoed the depths of her own turmoil. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, of unseen eyes lurking in the shadows just beyond her sight. Perhaps she had never truly known peace and quiet at all, or perhaps it had abandoned her in this moment of vulnerability, leaving her to fend for herself in the desolate night.

With a heavy heart and weary limbs, Maya made her way to the kitchen table, seeking refuge from the night's terrors. The hardened plastic offered a meager comfort, but the thought of facing the pull-out couch sent shivers down her spine. Reluctantly, she tucked her school bag beneath her head, using it as a makeshift pillow to ward off the chill of the night air.

As she settled into her improvised bed, Maya couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that hung in the air. The temptation to seek solace in Riley's presence beckoned to her, but the risk of venturing out into the darkened streets of Brooklyn was a gamble she couldn't afford to take. Even Maya, with her daring spirit, knew better than to tempt fate in the dead of night. Not this late. Her mother’s snores were still loudly drumming her ears. Barely closing an eye, Maya remembered why she had lost hope long ago.

At the tender age of four, Maya's world shattered when her father walked out on them, leaving behind a void that her young heart struggled to comprehend. Her mother, once a figure of renown in their community, descended into a cycle of poisonous relationships. With each misstep, her reputation crumbled, and the stability of their home eroded further. In the eyes of her mother, burdened by the weight of her own struggles, she became a symbol of the life she had lost. A true burden.

Amid the chaos, Maya discovered the unwavering companionship offered by Riley and Farkle. Despite their occasional foolishness, their steadfast love and care became her lifeline, compelling her to vow eternal protection over them. Maya had long resigned herself to the notion that her life wouldn't improve. The blonde understood that some things remained constant, no matter how hard one tried to change them. And her hatred towards life, and the universe, sure wasn’t going to change overnight.

7:54. Wednesday. September 4^th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

"Wait, so you two texted all night?" Farkle inquired, raising an eyebrow. His surprise evident on his early morning features. The boy adorned a troubled expression.

"Yes!" replied Riley wistfully, tracing the initials "L + R" on her history notebook. She had stayed up two hours past her bedtime chatting with the new guy, sharing their interests and life goals. Riley had sent him funny clips and pictures, and he responded with hilarious emojis. She had been so engrossed in their conversation that she barely noticed her friend hadn’t met her that morning.

Just then, Maya entered the room. These past days had been the harshest back to school season of all, Maya grumbled inwardly. Three revision quizzes—Math, English, History—had already been thrown their way, with more looming on the horizon. These tests seemed designed to separate the students into two camps: those who remembered last year's content and those who didn't. Maya found herself squarely in the latter category.

"What did I miss?" Maya asked, casually propping her feet up on Lucas's desk with a lack of enthusiasm.

"Only the best news!" exclaimed Farkle, a little too excitedly even for the boy. Lowering his voice, he added, "Riley and Lucas are in the texting phase."

"Why am I only hearing about this now?" Maya demanded; her tone laced with frustration. She and Riley shared everything, or so Maya thought. Since the first day of class, upon Riley’s suggestion, they had been gathering information on the cowboy, meticulously documenting it in a secret notebook hidden deep in Riley’s bag. Inside were details the two had recorded about various encounters and gossip surrounding him.

A fleeting thought appeared in between the blonde’s brows. Thinking back, a peculiar routine had developed between Maya and the new guy. During lunch or breaks, Maya would playfully provoke him, and he would respond with his own brand of teasing remarks—sarcasm, arrogance, or subtly threatening humor. While Maya felt completely at ease engaging in banter and pushing his buttons, Riley seemed to withdraw into herself whenever he was around. She became unusually shy and reserved, barely able to utter more than a timid "Hi." Maya remembered how just the day before, she had encouraged Riley to try to talk to him, while Farkle suggested texting. The sting of Riley's evident shyness hit Maya, though she couldn't help but notice her own smile creeping onto her cheeks at the sight of the cowboy entering the class as he talked to Yogi.

"I would have told you earlier, but you don't have a phone, so I couldn't..." Riley's words hung in the air, highlighting Maya's status as the sole member of their grade without one of those cursed squared blocks. Her mother's financial struggles made luxuries like smartphones out of reach.

"Well, better in person anyway," Maya reassured herself, masking the sting of exclusion. "And what did you guys talk about?" she asked, shifting the conversation to avoid dwelling on her lack of technology. Despite her casual tone, Maya couldn't shake the feeling of being left out of the loop, a feeling amplified by her inability to participate in the digital exchanges that seemed to define her peers' interactions.

"Everything!" Riley exclaimed, her hand soaring into the air dramatically. "It's like once we started, we couldn't stop," she added, shaking her head in disbelief. "And it feels so natural too." That morning the brunette had chosen to wear a purple dress and white tights that matched the beaded bracelets on her wrist.

"Aw, the cowboy is charming the princess..." Maya teased, earning a swift reprimand from Riley.

"Don't say that..." Riley's voice softened, her gaze drifting off with a dreamy expression. "He's so much more…he's… Perfect." she finished; her eyes glazed over with infatuation. Farkle exchanged a knowing glance with Maya; it was clear Riley was completely enamored, hooked like a determined addict chasing their next fix.

"Perfection is overrated," Farkle commented, his cheeks flushing slightly. Maya noted the telltale sign of his infatuation, particularly reserved for one of the girls. For reasons unknown, Maya felt a sudden urge to jump into their schoolwork. "I say we sign up for debate at lunchtime, I heard..." Farkle's words trailed off as Maya's mind wandered, already lost in her doodles within the stolen notebook.

"I'm in!" Riley eagerly agreed, her excitement palpable. "Maya?" Her voice called out for the blonde.

"Huh?" Maya snapped out of her reverie, still lost in her drawings.

"We were discussing lunchtime activities. Farkle and I are signing up for the debate team. Are you in?"

"Debate team?" Maya frowned slightly, not too keen on the idea. She didn't see the point in discussing issues without taking action. Besides art, she found most extracurricular activities boring or uninteresting. "Can we not?" she suggested, hoping for an alternative option. Painting, music, kitchen duties, anything that didn’t rely on wits or unusual amounts of concentration.

“Not what?” A voice replied, the cowboy took a seat behind the blonde. Maya’s attention momentarily diverted by Lucas's frame she couldn't help but notice the way his red polo shirt hugged his larger arms, and how his sun-kissed skin piqued her curiosity. Glancing down at her own disheveled clothing, Maya couldn't help but feel a pang of self-consciousness. She had unearthed an oversized vintage graphic t-shirt, once belonging to her mother's former boyfriend before he betrayed her and left. The gray garment draped over Maya like a makeshift dress, cinched at the waist with old shoelaces she had repurposed. In contrast to Riley's neatly put-together preppy outfit, Maya's attire exuded a distinctly worn-out and street-style vibe, teetering on the edge of vulgarity.

"Hi," Riley greeted the boy shyly, breaking the brief silence of his question.

“Hi” He answered in the same shy tone. Maya rolled her eyes and turned to see the same annoyed look on Farkle.

“We were going to sign up for debate team, want in?” Farkle's invitation hung in the air, laden with unspoken resentment that only Maya detected. She could sense his jealousy simmering beneath the surface, an invisible cloak of envy draped over his words. Yet, in Maya’s eyes, this seemingly shy debut of a relationship between the tweens wasn’t particularly indicative of an endgame pairing. Their shy interactions seemed awkward, carrying a cringe-worthy quality that extended beyond the confines of middle school. Maya pondered whether it stemmed from Riley's people-pleasing tendencies or the tentative nature of their budding relationship, which seemed to straddle two different worlds. Between fantasy realms of perfected romances and realistic heartbreaking disappointments. Or rather, Maya’s lack of understanding of social interactions made her question the sanity of her friend’s crush. Was it normal to change when a guy you liked was around? Was it supposed to happen the way it did?

“Are you all going to?” The new boy asked the gang in curiosity. His eyes settled on Maya on his last word, in a matter that seemed to doubt the blonde would ever dare to sign up to the kind of activity that resorted in speaking publicly on opiniated thoughts.

“Yeah” Riley answered completely ignoring her blonde friend’s disinterest.

“Sounds fun.” the boy replied. Riley squeak coincided with the bell ringing for their next class starting.

13:45. Wednesday. 4^th September. John Quincy Addams.

French class was the plague of every middle schooler. No rules made sense, everybody improvised on the spot. Except Maya, who strangely had a good understanding of the language. She was a natural. In the classroom, the air hung heavy with the scent of chalk and the faint murmur of students grappling with conjugations and pronunciation. The students' attempt at conjugating verbs echoed through the room, punctuated by the occasional giggle or groan of frustration. Nearby, Maya and Riley huddled together, their textbooks open as they practiced the phrases they had just learned for the exercise. Farkle and Lucas joined their circle, the sound of their chairs turning muffled against the linoleum floor.

“Hier, Jay faire ma devoir et tu?” Riley butchered.

“J’ai fait mes devoirs aussi.” Maya answered perfectly. Lucas leaned in close to the two girls, his voice hushed amidst the backdrop of French conversation swirling around them.

The soft glow of the overhead lights cast gentle shadows across his face as he whispered: "Are we actually supposed to speak French the whole time?"

"Oui, oui," replied the blonde with a mischievous glint in her eye, her lips curved into a playful smile.

"Ja maple Lucas," he attempted to read his notes, his southern drawl adding an unexpected charm to his pronunciation. Riley couldn't help but giggle at the sight, her laughter mingling with the melodic cadence of the language being spoken around them.

"Non," sighed Maya, her brow furrowed in concentration as she pointed at the printed paper. "Je m'appelle..."

"Hier, j'ai mangé une pomme," Farkle stated confidently, his pronunciation slightly off but his determination evident.

"We're onto the passé composé. Like: 'Ce matin, j'ai mangé' and then add whatever you ate that morning," Maya instructed, flipping the page of dialogue for Lucas to practice.

“I swear you’re like a language genius," Riley remarked the second the bell rang, a good ten minutes into the exercise. As they made their way to the lockers, Maya couldn't help but notice the bustle in the corridor. Students hurriedly shuffled past, some engaged in animated conversations while others juggled textbooks and backpacks.

“Am not”

"You are, I can tell. I'm sort of a genius too," Farkle quipped, nudging her arm.

"Please…" Maya begged, hoping her friends would drop the teasing. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered intermittently in the corridor, casting a dull glow over the scene. Laughter echoed off the tiled walls, blending with the hum of chatter to create a cacophony of sound. Maya weaved through the crowd, her mind still lingering on the French lesson.

"How did you learn all of it?" Lucas inquired as he arranged his books in his nearby locker, the others waiting patiently for him to finish before heading to Farkle's.

"My mother had bought discounted French books, so I read all of them out of boredom," Maya explained.

"And now you're basically a frenchie?" Lucas teased.

"Very funny, huckleberry," she retorted with sarcasm, his playful smile bringing a spark to his eyes. However, the moment was abruptly interrupted as he bumped into her friend, as if remembering her presence all of a sudden. Riley had been strangely watching the scene unfold, not daring a sound out of her throat.

"Hey, Riley," the cowboy turned to the brunette, their shyness returning. "By the way... it was fun talking to you last night." Riley nodded quickly in response, but her attention was diverted as she accidentally collided with an open locker. Maya came rushing to the rescue.

"Next time, ask for permission, heehaw," Maya joked, helping Riley recover from her stumble and gather her books from the ground.

"Sure, I'll ask real nicely," the boy winked, leaving the two girls for the corridor close to the bathrooms. His accent made Maya's stomach churn or was it the ocean eyes that made her weak in the knees, barely able to help her friend get a better grip when she herself had trouble holding on.

"You haven't said a word since French class," commented her blonde friend as they made their way to their twin lockers. They had taken the time to decorate the insides with glitter for Riley and had finished the decoration of Maya's locker with the black stripes the day before.

"I know, it's 'cause I realized: what if he doesn't like me?" The brunette panicked, putting all her stuff deep inside her locker.

"Riley, the guy literally texted you all night," Maya offered genuine words.

"Yeah, but what if that was just it, what if he just wants to be friends?"

"He doesn't," Maya replied, dropping the rest of her books inside the metal structure.

"How would you know?" Riley jumped and slammed her body inside the tiny locker. Sitting between the metal walls, she sighed. "I want to be left alone for eternity, let my body rest here for as long as my love for him burns," a dramatic quote on her lips.

"Out!" Maya's command echoed through the hallway as she yanked on Riley's feet, attempting to extract her from the cramped metal confines of the locker. Riley, clinging desperately to the hooks, let out a dramatic cry, "Let me perish in peace!" Maya rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin as she struggled to free her friend from her self-imposed prison. Despite the curious glances of onlookers, Maya's fierce glare silenced any inquiries, a testament to their unshakeable bond. With Riley finally released, they resumed their day, albeit with occasional interruptions whenever Riley's attention was captured by her brightly lit cellphone.

18:19. Wednesday September 4^th. Maya’s studio.

In the final warm days of the summer, Middle School students found themselves grappling with challenging homework assignments. Maya, in particular, struggled to focus amidst the cacophony that permeated her small studio apartment. Situated near the metro railings, the constant rumble of passing trains provided a backdrop to the myriad of other sounds that filled her space - the barking of her neighbor's dog, Chocho, and the piercing cries of baby Lila, teething in the apartment above. Silence seemed like an elusive dream as Maya attempted to concentrate, only to be interrupted by the blaring of a distant fire alarm. Frustrated but determined, she gathered her books and decided to seek solace in the tranquility of the nearby park. With a flashlight in hand and her bag stuffed with homework, Maya hurriedly left her apartment, locking the door behind her in anticipation of a more peaceful study environment.

The park was a good ten-minute walk, and strutting alone in NYC could have been scary for most tweens of her age, plus her neighborhood wasn’t exactly childproof or safe. She had learnt never to look anyone in the eyes or run the other way as soon as her instinct told her to. But Maya knew the people around. Her general rules always applied like no nice clothes and jewelry were allowed at this hour of the evening, though she didn’t have any to start with.

The park had transformed into a chaotic scene with a bustling five-year-old birthday party, amplifying the already raucous atmosphere that Maya had sought to escape. Determined to find a quieter spot to tackle her barely begun math problems, she weighed her options. Returning to school was out of the question, given the increased police presence at her metro station during this time. Riley's house was too far for a walk, and reaching Farkle's penthouse without a car seemed like an insurmountable task at this hour.

With her keen sense of direction and no digital assistance to rely on, Maya mapped out an alternate route in her mind. She recalled another park a few blocks away, where she hoped to find the solitude, she desperately needed. Although a café would have provided a more comfortable study environment, Maya's lack of pocket money rendered that option inaccessible. Determined to make the most of her situation, she set off on foot, prepared to endure another ten-minute walk in search of a quiet refuge.

The park, nestled in a quieter neighborhood renowned for its safety and family-friendly ambiance, provided a stark contrast to the chaotic scene Maya had just left behind. As she settled onto a weathered picnic table, the familiar routine of retrieving her books and assignments from her bag felt like déjà vu, a ritual she had performed countless times before.

A tantalizing aroma wafted from a nearby twin-house, teasing Maya's senses and conjuring memories of her childhood. In those tender years, she would often find solace in daydreams of a perfect family reunion—a fantasy where her absent father would return, her mother would overcome her struggles with alcohol, and they would gather around a hearty meal in a spacious home. These daydreams provided fleeting moments of comfort amidst the harsh realities of her upbringing.

Maya's father, Joseph Clutherbucket, was little more than a ghostly figure in her life, his absence a constant reminder of abandonment since she was just child. Their reunion existed only in her imagination, fueled by the longing for a father's love and the stability of a complete family. Yet, the harsh truth of his departure loomed over her, a wound that never fully healed. Her mother seldom broached the topic of Joseph, offering only fragmented memories tainted by regret and sorrow. It was only in moments of inebriation that Maya dared to ask about her father, seeking morsels of information from her mother's weary lips. But the answers provided little solace, serving only to deepen the void left by his absence.

Maya was not exactly the best in school, with barely a minimum grade every time. She had a hard time following the group sometimes. Preoccupied in her own mind with drawings and doodles, paying attention to history class seemed dull when compared to what was boiling in her mind. How to find silence if you didn’t know how it sounded? Maya had been deep in her math homework for the last minutes, trying to remember the lesson earlier and her revision material. She’d forgotten everything of the year before and could barely put two and two together.

As Maya neared completion of the first exercise, her concentration was momentarily disrupted by the sound of playful banter. Three boys, burdened with oversized grocery bags, engaged in a spirited game of tag, their laughter echoing through the air.

"Watch it! Mine's got eggs!" came a familiar voice, piercing through the commotion. Maya's heart skipped a beat. Could it be?

Lucas Friar, balancing two bags precariously on his arms, raced alongside two older boys, their destination a twin-house to her right.

With a quick glance over his shoulder to inspect the contents of his bags, Lucas caught sight of Maya observing him. “Maya?” he asked approaching her picnic table.

As Lucas approached, the wind seemed to pick up, carrying with it a chill that danced through the trees. Maya couldn't help but shiver slightly as she hastily gathered her scattered papers on the picnic table, the sun setting on their figures illuminating glows of orange and pink hues on their surroundings.

"Huckleberry," he chuckled at her words, a warm grin spreading across his face.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was soft, curiosity twinkling in his eyes as he took in the scene before him – Maya surrounded by her homework, her makeshift desk for her homework.

"Lucas! I need help with my chili recipe," called out a woman's voice from a nearby window, the scent of simmering spices wafting through the air.

"I haven't started mine yet," Lucas continued, seemingly unfazed by the interruption.

"Lucas!" came the call again, prompting the woman to witness the interaction. The woman appeared tall from Maya's angle, her hair cut in a squared look, and she wore a stern expression that softened at their sight.

"Oh! I'm terribly sorry. How impolite of me," she exclaimed, her accent thick like her son's, her eyes mirroring his depth.

"I’m Maya.” Maya introduced herself, her voice steady despite the sudden attention.

“She is in my class” Lucas explained.

"I'm Juliette Friar, Lucas's mom," the woman replied with a warm smile, waving to Maya. Maya felt a sense of warmth and familiarity emanating from Lucas's mother.

“Great, I was worried, my Lucas wouldn’t be capable of making friends after last year.”

"Mom!" Lucas shouted, a hint of panic in his tone. Maya's curiosity piqued. What was he hiding?

"It's a relief we moved here, lucky my Grant had a job opportunity," Mrs. Friar remarked, her voice tinged with gratitude. "Should you join us for dinner?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, her eyes kind but searching.

"I still haven’t finished my homework," Maya excused herself, barely maintaining eye contact.

"Nonsense, you can finish it inside. Plus, it’s getting cold, and you don’t have a jacket," Mrs. Friar insisted, her concern evident in her voice. Maya had indeed felt the chill in the air, another distraction from her homework to add to the growing pile.

Lucas helped her gather her things and led her to their twin house. He held the door open for her, revealing a home still in the midst of unpacking, with boxes strewn about.

"Sorry, we still haven’t finished unpacking," Lucas apologized, gesturing to the scattered boxes.

A tantalizing aroma wafted from the kitchen, tempting Maya as she followed the corridor into the common living spaces. Lucas’ brothers had stowed their grocery bags on the counter and were now engrossed in a video game on the living room sofa. Maya was immediately greeted by their excited shouts as they initiated a new game against their friends. According to Mrs. Friar, her husband was still at work and would join them just before dinner, as Maya had overheard one of the brothers inquire earlier.

"I'll show you my room," Lucas said, leading the way down the corridor lined with closed doors. He swung open the first door on the left, revealing a space with two twin beds and desks separated by a dresser. With a casual gesture, he hopped onto the neatly made bed on the blue side of the room. Maya's eyes wandered to the large posters adorning the walls, featuring the logos of the Chicago Bulls and New York Mets in vibrant colors.

"I share my room with my brother Michael," Lucas explained, gesturing towards the other bed in the room. He moved his brother's desk chair aside to make room for Maya. "We can start now. I finished my math homework back at school. I still have French to do. How about you?"

"Only Math," Maya nodded, feeling a sense of calm settling over her. It was a strange sensation, being at ease with someone she barely knew, especially a boy. As they sat side by side, their homework spread out before them, Maya couldn't help but steal glances at Lucas. There was an unspoken connection between them, a quiet understanding that transcended words. For the first time in years, Maya felt the rhythmic thud of her own heartbeat echoing in the calm between them. Perhaps, she thought, that's what silence sounded like.

19:40. Wednesday. September 4^th. Lucas' house.

The aroma of the mother's cooking filled the air, teasing Maya's senses until her stomach couldn't help but protest with an audible rumble. Lucas glanced at her with a gentle smile, his face adorned with small dimples that only seemed to deepen his charm. Meanwhile, Michael and Jake remained engrossed in their game, the sounds of their play providing a backdrop to the quiet study session unfolding in the bedroom. Lucas, furrowing his brow in concentration, delved into his French homework, his features contorted in a mix of determination and frustration as he toyed with his pen, his lower lip caught between bites.

Maya observed Lucas's room with a keen eye. His side appeared neat and organized, but a few stray notebooks lay scattered on the floor alongside a basketball and a pair of used socks. An empty glass sat abandoned on his nightstand, while a bobblehead figure of what Maya assumed was a football player stood proudly nearby. Two unopened boxes rested beside his bed, one labeled 'winter' and the other bare, piquing Maya's curiosity about its contents. As she glanced up at the ceiling, she found nothing remarkable—just the usual mundane sight of a New York apartment ceiling, devoid of any intrigue or excitement.

"You finished?" Lucas's question broke Maya's inspection, his blue eyes capturing her attention effortlessly. It was easy to lose herself in their depths, forgetting all about the homework and getting swept away by the tide. "Almost," she replied, tearing her gaze away reluctantly.

The study session had been surprisingly productive, a departure from Maya's usual experience. Whenever she joined Riley for homework, it inevitably devolved into chatting or playing, leaving little room for actual work. This lack of focus often resulted in poor grades on team projects, as Riley and Farkle excelled as partners while Maya found herself paired with other classmates. Despite their deep friendship, Maya knew they weren't the best academic match, a realization that lingered in the back of her mind as she and Lucas continued their studies.

And she had yet to see Farkle's penthouse; the genius had never extended an invitation for them to study at his place. Maya speculated that it must have been a privilege reserved for the affluent. Unlike herself, who had never invited her friends over to her studio, she imagined Farkle's residence was spacious and opulent. After all, she doubted more than three people could squeeze into her shoebox of a studio.

Perhaps she had acted too hastily in ending things with Lucas on the metro, she mused, a wistful smile gracing her lips. "What's on your mind?" He asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Oh, nothing," she replied casually. "I just half-expected to find a cowhide rug lying around here somewhere."

He grinned before returning to his focused expression. Laughter echoed from the living room, momentarily distracting Maya from her math problem. Juliette Friar, Lucas's mother, called out to them from the kitchen, announcing that dinner was ready.

"Coming!" Lucas called out in response to his mother's summons. He flashed a smile and gestured for Maya to follow him to the bathroom to wash up, while Mrs. Friar busied herself setting the table. As they gathered in the open space of the living room and dining area, Maya took her seat at the large table. Mrs. Friar placed a generous plate of chili in front of her, accompanied by a bowl of bread and tortilla chips. The delicious aroma of the meal filled the room, featuring savory chunks of tomatoes, minced meat, and onions. Maya's stomach rumbled in anticipation. Alongside the chili were various delectable toppings to choose from: sour cream, green onions, shredded cheese, garlic bread, and more.

"So, you're in Lucas' class?" inquired Grant, the patriarch of the family. His salt-and-pepper hair formed gentle curls at the crown, a distinguished air about him. Maya couldn't help but speculate that he might work in law or finance, given his attire and demeanor—anything remotely serious, she presumed.

"Yes, sir," Maya replied with a shy smile, her hand hesitating over her plate until Juliette took her seat. Maya had been taught by Mrs. Matthews never to start eating before everyone was seated, having witnessed Riley receive her fair share of scoldings for such breaches of etiquette.

"Yes, he told us about making friends," snickered one of the brothers, likely Jake, the middle sibling. Maya turned her head to Lucas, puzzled by his sudden blush.

"Yeah, well, everybody seems to like him. Even Farkle warmed up to him quickly," Maya replied, a hint of surprise in her tone.

"What's a Farkle?" asked Juliette, the mother. Lucas chuckled before answering.

"He's Maya’s boyfriend. And one of my new friends," Lucas clarified, prompting a snicker from Maya.

"Already in a relationship?" Grant asked with a hint of defeat. "The youth is starting much earlier than we did. Remember when we started datin–" Before Grant could finish, Juliette burst into laughter, and Lucas swiftly intervened, cutting off his father's reminiscing.

"Gross, we don't want to hear your stories," Lucas shutting down any further reminiscing from Grant.

"Mom, it's so good," Michael chimed in, complimenting the meal as he bit into a large chip with a loud crack. The dinner was pleasant overall, with the family showing a close bond. Michael, the older brother, exuded a calm and gentle demeanor, while Jake was more outgoing, often cracking jokes with a mischievous glint in his eye. Grant worked in a bank, while Juliette was still in the process of interviewing for job offers in the city. Maya found Lucas' family to be exceptionally welcoming, even going as far as offering her a cookie to take with her after dinner. She assured them that her house was just a few blocks away.

"Do you need Lucas to accompany you back home?" Mrs. Friar asked kindly.

"No need, Mrs. Friar. I can walk alone," Maya insisted.

"Please, he is going to throw out the trash anyways," Mrs. Friar added, gesturing to a nearly empty bag of rubbish. Maya couldn't help but feel a pang of confusion at the gesture; she didn't quite understand the customs of rich families.

After an awkward silence during the walk, Lucas had agreed to accompany her back home rather promptly. The first few minutes were filled with the sound of their breaths.

"So, Farkle told me you and Riley have been best friends for a long time," Lucas ventured, attempting to break the silence.

“I’ve known her since before I could walk. Our mothers used to go to the same toddler’s class. It was love at first cry” the cowboy laughed lightly at her description.

As they walked through the streets of New York after 8, the city was alive with the glow of streetlights and the distant hum of traffic. The cool evening air wrapped around them, carrying the faint scent of food from nearby restaurants and the sound of distant laughter.

"I had a similar relationship back in Texas," Lucas said, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

"What happened?" Maya asked, her curiosity piqued.

"I moved," he replied, sounding unfazed, though Maya sensed there was more to the story, perhaps a hint of melancholy hidden beneath his calm demeanor.

"Sorry for you, I can’t imagine ever leaving this city," Maya said, her gaze drifting to a homeless man sitting under the emergency staircase of an old apartment building. "It’s my home."

Lucas nodded, understanding the sentiment. "And Farkle? How did you meet?" he asked, steering the conversation back to lighter topics.

The city's energy heightening the tension between them. "Riley had pooped in her pants on the first day of elementary school," she began, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "He saved her from humiliation and came to get me, 'cause he had noticed us playing together. He's kind of the best," Maya admitted, her voice softening as she glanced at Lucas. "Don’t tell him I said that." she quickly added, feeling herself getting lost in his intense gaze. Their eyes briefly intertwined in a knowing exchange, only to be abruptly interrupted by the blaring sound of a horn, jolting them back to reality.

"What do I get in exchange for keeping a secret?" Lucas's tone turned playful, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

"I might reconsider giving back your seat," Maya replied with a wicked smile. She remembered the day before, in school when she had stolen his precious seat, claiming her smaller frame couldn't see behind his bulky one. Their ongoing battle for the seats had become a source of amusement for the teachers, who agreed to switch them every time, unknowingly fueling their playful rivalry.

She had mastered the art of switching off her trademark glare and toning down her mischief whenever he was near, especially when no one else was watching. Maintaining her reputation was crucial, but there was something about him that weakened her defenses. Deep down, an instinct urged her to trust him, against all rationality.

"Well, that's me. I'll see you around, Huckleberry," she said, waving her hand in farewell and expressing gratitude for his company. She may have misled him into believing she lived just a stone's throw away from his house, but she couldn't bear the thought of him getting lost or worse, encountering danger in her neighborhood.

"About that surname–," he began, but she interrupted him before he could finish.

"You love it, I know," she quipped, a playful glint in her eyes.

"See you around, Maya," his smile widened, culminating in a laugh.

" 'Night, cowboy," Maya whispered into the depths of the darkness. Her heart thudded in its cage, a sense of accomplishment washing over her. Finally, she had done something productive.

Chapter Text

9:38. Friday. September 6^th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

“ Dear students, it’s time to nominate candidates for the position of School President. We're looking for motivated leaders who can represent the student body with integrity and passion. If you're eager to make a positive impact on our school community, consider running for John Quincy Addams Middle School’s presidency. As School President, you'll have the chance to collaborate with faculty and students, organize events, and advocate for your peers' needs. Sign up in the main office by Tuesday September 10th. Campaigning will begin shortly after. Elections will be held on September 17^th. May the best candidate win!”

The principal's voice echoed through the classroom, but Maya paid little attention to the annual speech. Politics wasn't her concern. Instead, she found herself preoccupied with the unsettling results of her recent quizzes — all failures, without exception. These assessments were meant to cover last year's curriculum, topics she was supposed to have mastered. Yet, here she was, realizing she was woefully unprepared and unaware of much of the material.

"Maya, I want to sign up," Riley whined from her seat as the bell rang. Maya watched as her friend frantically gathered her supplies for their classroom change, to another torturous reality check. Impatience was oozing from every movement out of her best friend.

"But why?" Maya questioned, closing her books filled with recent doodles. "Can't we just have a normal year? …You know, do nothing and still have fun?"

An annoying moralizing voice whispered to never abandon her friend in need. Maya wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk off Lucas's face. He seemed to enjoy getting under her skin. Almost as much as she did for him. Meanwhile, Riley employed her infamous puppy-dog eyes.

"Fine," Maya found herself conceding after a few moments of silence from her pouting friend and the infuriatingly smug Lucas.

"Meet my new secretary," the brunette announced, thrusting a hastily prepared list of tasks into Maya's hands before the election. Had Riley been at this the whole period? Maya sighed in exasperation. Meanwhile, Farkle, his arms laden with books, turned to Lucas.

"Would you like to assist my campaign as my personal secretary?" he asked the blue-eyed boy. As the rest of the class spread out of the room to get to their lockers.

"I have my own plans, but thanks for asking," the cowboy declined, his gaze shifting from Riley's shy smile to the blonde in one smooth motion. "I'm going to run for president too," he declared, punctuating the statement with a subtle shift in the atmosphere.

In other words, the cowboy had just declared war. Suddenly, in a fraction of a second, their newly formed group was splitting into three factions. It was a dynamic Maya had never experienced before, as Farkle and Riley usually enjoyed their debates without interference.

"May the best win," Maya replied simply. Riley's gaze fell, Farkle's grip on his book tightened, and Lucas's smile faded. Were her friends all losing their minds? Maya had already chosen her side, though perhaps not the one the others expected from her.

14:04. Friday September 6^th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

Maya's rebellious reputation had its roots in a singular event—a dark chapter that unfolded when her mother, in the nascent days of middle school, became acquainted with a man named Lenny. He was the type of adult who repulsed Maya to her core. Though she couldn't fully grasp the extent of his misdeeds, his ominous demeanor, incessant commentary, and heavy reliance on illicit substances and cigarettes were enough to send shivers down her spine. His shadow seemed to loom over every corner, his eyes always fixed on Maya, waiting for an opportunity to exploit her mother's vulnerability.

Maya had witnessed the man offering her mother substances and indulgences she wished had never tainted their home. One particularly frigid winter day stands out in Maya's memory, a day when she feared her mother had completely succumbed to Lenny's influence.

As the scent of cigarettes lingered in her hair and her lips bore the stain of some crimson liquid, Maya found herself questioning the true adult in their relationship. In that moment, as she gently washed away the remnants from her mother's face, Maya couldn't help but ponder the role reversal that seemed to have taken hold. Lenny had played a role in her mother's descent into a newfound hobby, concocting mixtures until her mind became clouded and distorted.

Swearing vehemently, Maya reflected on the choices that lay before her that day. She could have abandoned her mother to her vices, or she could summon her strength and coax her away from the destructive path. Maya had grown weary of the whispers from her peers about the scent clinging to her clothes, of the disapproving gazes from her teachers.

"Thank you," her mother whispered, half-awake. Tears streamed from Maya's eyes, her heart pounding in her chest as she purged the apartment of any poison, stuffing the evidence into her bag. She hoped that when tomorrow came, her mother would pause before indulging again. Without finding anything to tempt her, perhaps she'd question herself and maybe, just maybe, make it through a day without succumbing to self-destructive tendencies.

On that day, Maya had confiscated her mother’s cigarette pack and bags of powders. She knew that completely ridding the apartment of them was likely a temporary solution, as her mother would see her as more of a nuisance than anything else. But for just one day? Maya could attribute the diversion to the trauma caused by the overuse of substances. Surely, her mother would come to recognize her own tendencies and slow down. After all, if her mother’s purse was to be believed, she didn’t have the money to purchase more of that sick powder.

The next day at school started like any other winter day, with the usual hushed tones and subdued atmosphere permeating the classrooms. However, tranquility quickly turned to chaos when Riley, ever the boisterous one, stumbled upon the pack in Maya's bag. In a dramatic display of shock and concern for her friend's well-being, Riley couldn't contain her horror at Maya's alleged life choices. Acting on what she perceived as a noble mission to protect her friend from the perils of addiction at such a tender age, Riley promptly informed her father about the discovery. Mr. Matthews, being a responsible parent, felt compelled to take action upon learning about the presence of the forbidden item on school premises. With the incident witnessed by numerous students, Mr. Matthews had no choice but to file a report, and Maya found herself summoned to the principal's office to address what was now deemed "troubling behavior".

Maya felt utterly gutted, but she knew she had to steel herself, adopting a facade of strength as she faced the judgmental stares of her peers. Weakness and vulnerability were luxuries she couldn't afford. True to school protocol, Maya's mother was promptly summoned, arriving at the school in a furious flurry to defend her daughter's actions. With practiced finesse, Maya's mother assumed the role of the innocent party, skillfully deflecting any accusations regarding the nature of the possession. However, Mr. Matthews, ever the diligent interrogator, subjected Maya to relentless questioning until she faltered, offering a feeble explanation that failed to satisfy his probing inquiries. Was it better to lie and keep the status quo or risk losing the only person Maya had to love against all odds?

To some extent, Maya's intervention had yielded results: her mother ceased her association with the harmful substances, and Lenny disappeared from their lives. As for the fallout at school, Maya chose not to delve into the details of what her mother and the principal discussed. All that remained from the incident was Maya's newfound reputation as a rebellious troublemaker, a misconception fueled by the rapid spread of rumors devoid of any semblance of truth.

At that age, children were easily unsettled by anything out of the ordinary. Maya's stoic demeanor and enigmatic backstory solidified her reputation as the school's resident rebel. While her well-worn attire might have been mistaken for a fashion statement, it was more a reflection of her circumstances than a deliberate choice. And anyone who dared to challenge her would quickly find themselves at the receiving end of her piercing gaze. However, what most failed to grasp was the vulnerability hidden beneath her tough exterior. It was in the moment when others looked into her eyes that they sensed the palpable absence of warmth, love, and above all, hope.

For Maya, Art class was more than just a subject—it was a sanctuary. Nestled in a renovated section of the school, the room boasted expansive windows that offered serene views of the outdoor courtyard. Inside, cabinets brimmed with an array of painting supplies, while charts displaying color gradients and pencil techniques adorned the walls. In one corner, sculpting tools awaited eager hands, while a back room served as a storage haven for works-in-progress. Plastic cups, each holding a splash of vibrant color, were neatly stacked near a metal sink, accompanied by a collection of washed-out towels bearing the marks of countless artistic endeavors.

With fervor, Maya sketched her heart out on the page, following their teacher's instructions to interpret a door using shadow techniques. Every stroke was infused with her utmost concentration, as if each line held a piece of her inner most wishes. Beside her, Riley's fingers danced with purple paint, shaping a figure that resembled a cat. Meanwhile, Farkle meticulously employed rulers and mathematical calculations to ensure the precise proportions of his metal revolving doors.

Maya had chosen a classic theme, one that spoke to her deeply. Her artwork depicted a scene of a moonlit night, with a solitary figure standing before a transparent, locked door. Through the glass, a serene valley bathed in sunlight beckoned, promising refuge and tranquility. As she continued to sketch the outline, Maya hoped she would have enough time to add more colors using painting supplies before the bell signaled the end of the class.

Despite the looming elections, Maya's group had opted for a ceasefire, unfurling peace flags throughout the remainder of the day. With no solid backing for their campaign yet, they deemed it premature to engage in direct confrontation. Riley, however, remained steadfast in her efforts to garner support from fellow students, enlisting Maya's help to circulate petitions during lunch and sway a few individuals to their cause. Though Riley hadn't specified the preferred method of persuasion, Maya managed to recruit a handful of supporters before the lunch period concluded. With excitement evident in Riley's exuberant leaps and squeals, they submitted their applications just minutes before the next class, guided by Maya's direction to the Art studio.

Her best friend did not enjoy the meditating effects of visual arts. Her interests lied rather in performative arts, such as theater, improvisation, or debate club. Riley liked the sound of her own voice and interpreting new fantasies. Sitting still for a drawing, and visualizing a piece required a type of concentration the tween was not able to perform.

Farkle wasn’t half bad, his technics lacked emotion, and creativity. His style leaned towards structured compositions with defined lines and architectural precision, reflecting his reliance on tools rather than pure artistic intuition. He knew his strength laid with his tools rather than skills. Which, by partnering up with Maya, was useful as she preferred following her instincts and keen eye.

The blonde had often been complimented on her artistic skills, for her unique voice and her painting skills. While she was far from becoming a Picasso or Banksy, the girl’s piece exuded an air of mysteriousness that intrigued both her art teacher, and parents whenever school exhibitions were taking place. Maya held reservations about nurturing aspirations of becoming an artist, acknowledging the constraints imposed by her socioeconomic status. In her perspective, growing up in poverty often instilled a mindset of limited possibilities. Unlike individuals like Farkle and Riley, who seemed to have endless opportunities and financial support to pursue their dreams, Maya felt tethered by the stark realities of her circumstances.

With less than a year remaining before she turned fourteen, Maya was acutely aware that adulthood was looming on the horizon, accompanied by the stark reality of entering the workforce. Her mother, ever eager to secure financial stability, had attempted to enroll her in auditions, viewing child acting as a lucrative opportunity in an industry notorious for exploiting the innocence of young talents. However, Riley's mother, Topanga Matthews, intervened swiftly upon learning of the scheme, dissuading Maya's mother from subjecting her daughter to such exploitation. Topanga had always been a steadfast advocate for Maya, offering invaluable parental guidance and support whenever needed. Yet, Maya grappled with the dilemma of how much she could disclose to Riley’s mother. The last thing Maya wanted was to add to her mother’s burdens.

"It's beautiful," a voice echoed behind her. Startled, Maya turned to find the cowboy standing there, his gaze fixed on her artwork with genuine admiration. "How do you do that?" he inquired, his ocean eyes locking with her nervous stare. A curious warmth tinged Maya's cheeks as she glanced at her own artwork, puzzled by the boy's admiration. She had simply followed the teacher's instructions, confident in her technique but uncertain why it warranted such awe.

"Check out mine!" Riley exclaimed, directing the boy's attention to her purple creation with an expansive grin. He shifted his posture to indulge the brunette's request.

His smile widened at the whimsical artwork. "A purple cat?" he wondered aloud.

“I believe in miracles.” The brunette explained. Though the sentiment was profound, the prompt had been clear. A door was demanded for a good grade.

"What did you paint, Ranger Rick? A ranch door leading to a horse stable?" Maya teased, setting down her paintbrush on her easel.

"How did you know?" His eyes widened in a comical manner, his dimples deepening. Maya couldn't help but feel her cheeks flush as the waves of his perfect face shifted to match her tone.

“I will never get to you, will I?” Maya asked, deadly serious for a second. Dropping her act, only to be served by her own medicine.

“Never” He winked leaving to find his easel by Sarah’s side, another girl entrapped in Missy’s minion’s squad.

“I don’t understand your friendship.” Riley voiced, scrubbing the paint off her fingers with a scrap of white fabric.

“Me neither” Maya replied, picking up her paintbrush to focus on her work again. Miss Kossal didn't mind students chatting as long as they were productive, a testament to her kind nature and belief in her students' potential. Without her support, Maya might have abandoned school long ago. With the right encouragement, even the prickliest of flowers could bloom.

15:45. Friday. September 6^th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

As the final bell reverberated through the corridors, signaling the end of another school day, the bustling throng of students began to disperse. Farkle and Lucas, their backpacks slung over their shoulders, exchanged quick farewells with Maya before disappearing into the sea of departing classmates.

Maya decided to stay behind in the corridor while the rest of the class began to filter out. Riley stood beside Maya in the loud hallway. Maya couldn't help but notice the absence of Riley's usual bubbly chatter. Concerned, Maya leaned in to join the conversation the brunette was having on her phone.

"What are you two chatting about?" Maya inquired; her curiosity piqued.

Riley's smile widened as she held the screen for Maya to see. "He says I remind him of Lucy, his grandpa's goat,". Curiosity piqued, Maya leaned closer to inspect the image. Her eyes widened in amusement as she beheld the picture of a goat with a comically lopsided grin. Unable to contain her laughter, Maya looked at the absurd comparison; her worries momentarily forgotten. With a grin, she returned to her doodling, grateful for the lighthearted distraction provided by her friend. “Wait he says I look like this?” Riley’s voice was nearing a potential melt down. The creature had two small teeth smeared on each side of its mouth and a full head of white fluff.

"He's asking if you're still with me," Riley commented, her voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty seconds later. "And, um, I may have said something... that wasn't entirely true, but it's not that bad either," she added, nervously twirling her fingers.

Maya observed her friend's fidgeting with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "Can't be worse than the cupcake incident," she remarked, recalling a past misadventure.

Riley's next words caught Maya off guard. "I told him you had a crush on Josh," she confessed, her tone sheepish. Maya's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Josh? The senior who had graduated the year before? Sure, he was cute, but Maya had only mentioned him in passing when Riley had teased her about crushes.

Shaking her head incredulously, Maya replied, "Tell him whatever you want." Then, a note of genuine curiosity crept into her voice as she asked, "But why did you say that?"

“He asked me if you had anyone in sight, and I sort of freaked out and though maybe he was interested in you, and since you didn’t tell me you liked him, I thought it was okay, but then, I felt bad because I lied, and you don’t like Josh anymore, and we have to−”

"Hey, it's fine. I still think he's cute, for what it's worth," Maya replied, her heart sinking at the inevitability of the conversation to follow.

Maya's next question made her squeamish. "So, you're serious about Lucas?" the blonde inquired, her voice betraying a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Riley nodded, her smile never faltering. as Maya recalled Lucas's features—the captivating blue eyes, the sturdy frame that made him stand out among their peers, she felt a warmth in her stomach. He was undeniably impressive, a picture-perfect embodiment of what many considered desirable. Yet, despite her admiration for him, Maya couldn't shake the twinge of loneliness that settled within her at Riley's words.

"Yes, I really like him," Riley admitted with a smile. Maya’s gaze grew distant as she recalled Lucas's robust arms, seemingly tailored for comforting embraces. As she reminisced about his towering presence, the blonde couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. He stood as the tallest among them, exuding strength and confidence, fitting the image of the ideal partner perfectly. But casting a shadow over her friend's budding feelings, Maya sensed a tinge of solitude.

"Maya," her teacher's voice pierced through her wandering thoughts, pulling her back to the present moment. She realized she had once again drifted away into her own mind. "Come see me in my office at the end of the period," Mr. Matthews's earlier instruction echoed in her mind, accompanied by a stern expression. She couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with the pop quiz from earlier in the week.

As she approached her teacher, she noticed his serious demeanor and felt a sense of apprehension creeping in. Gesturing for her to come closer, he motioned for Riley to close the door behind her, a precaution against any potential disruptions from her noisy friend.

Maya maintained a stoic expression, steeling herself for what she knew was coming. It wasn't unfamiliar territory for her—this sense of impending rejection, the feeling of not being enough. She had seen that look on a teacher's face more times than she could count, and each time, it brought a sinking feeling to her stomach.

"I've always stood up for you, Maya, but this time the principal is adamant," Mr. Matthews cautioned, his voice weighted with seriousness. "One more mistake, and you're out for good." Maya nodded, absorbing the gravity of his words.

"The only reason you passed last year was because I knew my daughter would never forgive me if I failed you," he added, a hint of remorse coloring his tone.

"I understand," Maya replied, her voice steady despite the weight of disappointment settling in her chest. She gathered her orange bag and slung it over her shoulder, preparing to leave.

Mr. Matthews placed her test on the desk, the bold red zero glaring up at her from the margin. It was a stark reminder of her struggle to meet academic expectations.

"I expect your grades to improve," he continued, his tone softening slightly. "You can't keep settling for the bare minimum in every class."

The blonde felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I know," she murmured, the words catching in her throat like a desperate plea. She had hoped to do better this time, but the truth weighed heavily on her—she had nowhere quiet to study, nobody to turn to for help, and it seemed like nobody cared enough to stay. And as for last year, it was a blur of struggle and disappointment, much like the present, leaving her with nothing she wanted to remember about her life.

“This is for you” Mr. Matthews handed her a box. “I know I haven’t been the kindest teacher, but I am hoping we can start over this year” Inside the box, Maya found a cafeteria card in the forefront.

“Riley told me you hadn’t eaten today at lunch, and with Topanga we decided to make sure you would always get a full stomach.” The second surprise was the same plastic card she saw him hand over to his daughter on the first day. “You are going to get caught if you jump on the rail every time” He added almost smiling.

And to her last surprise, she found a black rectangular device. Her eyes watered. His gaze softened. “Now, if you need anything, my number is on the emergency contact.”

Emotions swept over her like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf her petite frame. Tears streamed down her cheeks like hot salts, carving paths in unwavering waters. She clung to the father in a tight embrace before any words could form in her constricted throat. "You be careful with these things; they poison the youth," he joked gently, his voice tinged with concern as he opened the door to let her out.

As she stepped into the corridor, Riley's familiar figure came into view, sitting by the lockers with a wide grin adorning her cheeks. "There should be enough 5G for you to ask any questions if you're stumped," Mr. Matthews added, his last words lingering in the air like a tender farewell. With a trembling exhale, Maya and Riley's frames collapsed into a tight, shaking embrace, seeking solace in each other's arms amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling within.

"I have a phone now," Maya's voice quivered with gratitude, her emotions raw and overwhelming. More tears streaked down her cheeks, staining her face a deep shade of crimson, but she was too overwhelmed to notice.

In that moment, it dawned on her—they were giving her another chance. Someone, Mr. Matthews believed in her. For once, she felt a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that had engulfed her. The girls embraced, showering Maya's father with endless thanks, their hug tight and filled with gratitude. In mere seconds, Maya found herself enveloped into the group that Farkle, Lucas, and Riley had formed a few days prior.

Her friends greeted the news with a flurry of excited emojis, their joy mirrored in Maya's soft tears. The thought of owning a phone had always seemed impossible to her, especially since she was too young to work. She had resigned herself to waiting indefinitely. But now, as she was welcomed into the chain text with open arms, Maya felt a sense of belonging wash over her. She may not have been accustomed to the rapid succession of messages yet, but she was overjoyed to finally be a part of it all.

18:07. Friday. September 6^th. Maya’s studio.

It took Maya a few hours to acclimate to the electronic device. While she grasped most of its functions, she couldn't shake the feeling of being a novice when it came to the social norms surrounding the device.

"Wanna go to the library?" Lucas's message popped up in the group chat, suggesting a study session. Maya couldn't help but smile and immediately messaged Riley privately: "Are you in?"

Riley's enthusiastic response came swiftly, a resounding "OF COURSE!" in all caps. Maya chuckled to herself, the sound reverberating in the empty loft. Her mother was out and about, her whereabouts unknown.

After settling on a time and meeting spot, Maya's heart skipped a beat when she received a private message from Lucas. The blue-colored text read, "Welcome to the 21st century." Grinning from ear to ear, Maya playfully changed Lucas's contact to a cowboy emoji and replied, "When's your turn?" After all, in just a year, so much could change.

Chapter Text

14:03. Saturday. September 7^th. Robert Hastings Library.

Adjusting to the 21st century had proven more challenging than Maya initially anticipated. Slow in her responses, she didn’t possess the same fluency or knowledge as her friends, but she held onto the hope that she would catch up with time. At least, that’s what she reassured herself with. Using her new smartphone in her pocket, as a safeguard to help navigate the bustling streets, Maya felt a twinge of pride for her resourcefulness. Technology proved valuable in aiding her endeavors, but it was far from a necessity in her case.

Her bag weighed down with unfinished homework for the following week, Maya resolved to make the most of their precious time at the library to catch up on her studies. Her mother hadn’t inquired about the origin of the phone, likely assuming Maya had acquired it through less-than-legal means. While theft wasn’t a habitual occurrence for Maya, it wouldn’t have been the first time she had indulged in such behavior. She had taken the liberty of adding her mother to her short list of contacts, which included Riley’s parents, Riley herself, Farkle, and last but not least, the cowboy.

Maya found herself alone at the meeting spot once again, a familiar scenario. She had grown accustomed to waiting for her friends, who often arrived in style—parental rides or Farkle’s private chauffeur service. The solitude didn’t bother her; it gave her time to collect her thoughts. However, today was different.

A sense of unsettling nervousness crept over her once her eyes settled on the very thing that troubled her mind these days. She tried to shake it off, but as the Texan model approached, her uneasiness intensified. With each step he took, her heartbeat quickened, a strange sensation fluttering in her stomach.

Sitting by the park nearby the entrance, Maya sensed her eyes focusing on his arrival. “Hey!” His cheerful wave caught her attention, and their eyes locked. He was just a few feet away now, his smile growing wider with each stride. Maya felt a knot form in her throat slowly. What was happening to her? Her body was giving away traces of an unknown disease.

“Heehaw,” Maya greeted, attempting to mask any sign of restraint, though a tightness lingered in her chest, a newfound shyness seemed to have developed.

Despite Maya’s best efforts to appear nonchalant, she couldn’t ignore the subtle shift in dynamics between Riley and Lucas in the past hours. Their conversations, leaked by her best friend through text, once confined to their private chat, now seemed to have transitioned to the main group chat. As Maya was still navigating the intricacies of technology, delving into lengthy and detailed chat felt in every sense, overwhelming.

“Are the others here yet?” he asked casually, dropping his bag beside her, as he settled on the wooden bench, edging a tree. The space bore witness to out lookers, students and families walking by. The park was rather small, to New York standards, a few trees, four benches aligned to face a bronzed man’s statue tucked in between buildings of high towers.

A gentle breeze tousled Maya’s hair, gently lifting strands away from her face, while it played with the boy’s features, causing a hint of amusement to flicker in his eyes, his smile, warm and friendly, tempted her to steal a quick glance at his lips.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, Gold’n Boy,” Maya quipped, her attempt at a southern accent drawing a chuckle from him. The day had been particularly sunny, with other students gathering at the entrance. The library was located a few minutes away from their school. And it was shared by many educational institutions as neutral ground.

A silence followed their exchange, but not the kind to make the blonde squeamish. It was a rather comfortable moment, of listening to the sounds of the streets, conversations between alike students. The cowboy flashed a timid smile at the second glance thrown his way. Was he getting nervous? Maya wondered, as she felt her own cheeks fill with a tint of red.

Before long, her best friend, Riley approached the duo. As she approached, Maya couldn't help but admire Riley's summery ensemble—a vibrant yellow dress adorned with green flowers, complemented by white embroidered Converse shoes and a crocheted cotton cardigan. Her hair danced freely in the breeze, adding to her effortless charm.

In contrast, Maya glanced down at her own attire, her oversized jeans bucked by old shoelaces, and dark blue shirt reading “American Bike Week”. The blonde caught herself wishing she had opted for something more polished. Perhaps even styled her hair in cutesy way. Though, Maya still didn’t know how to tame her blonde curls.

As they stood, to greet their friend. Maya couldn't help but notice the warmth in Lucas' smile as Riley timidly let out a shy “hi”. Was it a genuine expression of happiness because he liked her presence, or merely a friendly gesture? There was an undeniable sweetness to their exchange, as Lucas answered the same, reminiscent of two young children smitten with each other. Maya pondered this as she exchanged greetings with her long-time friend in a tight hug.

"Should we start before Farkle comes?" Lucas's voice asked, drawing more attention of the two girls. Maya noticed the telltale flush creeping up the brunette's cheeks, a subtle indication of her embarrassment.

"I'm sure he won't mind," Riley’s voice carried a hint of uncertainty. The blonde brushed it off, to check her phone in their shared chat.

“Genius just texted; he says to start without him." Maya added, her eyes briefly flicking to her phone screen before noticing Riley’s eyes flickering between the entrance and the cowboy.

“Okay” Lucas approved, and with that the trio walked the small steps leading to the sacred halls of the library.

Stepping into the building, Maya couldn't shake the feeling that she should spend more time in public places like this. Libraries, in particular, often made her feel self-conscious about her attire or her modest collection of books at home. Yet, it was evident that others found solace in these spaces, embracing the serious atmosphere to focus on their studies or work. The room buzzed with activity, populated by a mix of older students from high schools, and middle school. Spotting a vacant table nestled beside a rack of philosophy books, they made their way over, eager to settle in for a productive session of studying.

Riley chose a seat by the cowboy’s side, while Maya had seated in front of the pair, facing the model. Dropping her bag on the chair by her side, to reserve Farkle’s seat. Maya opened her bag atrocity. Their spot was one that permitted small talks, and chattery. Used for group projects or friendly gatherings, it was a nice space for sharing.

Her two friends had seemed to particularly enjoy chatting over the easiness of some of the homework received so far. Well, Riley was boasting while Lucas seemed to find her commentary funny. Curiously while she had checked for Farkle’s earlier response, Maya had noted an influx of messages she had received while en route to the library, a flurry of distractions vying for her attention. Pushing aside the temptation to delve into her notifications, she refocused on the task before her.

Determined to not let her friend deter her urge to finish her homework this time, Maya flipped open her history book. They had readings due. Words mixed on the page, while Riley continued her loud rambling every other paragraph, Maya was slowly losing concentration.

A sudden urge to doodle overtook her, a desire to fill the blank spaces with her own creations to distract her mind. Without much thought, she swiped a pen from the pile in front of Texas, his attention still on her friend. Doubt crept into Maya's mind – perhaps their impromptu library visit wasn't such a wise decision after all. Despite the peaceful ambiance of the space, her thoughts seemed to wander.

A subtle silence hung in the air, as the boy showed interest in finishing an exercise. But with Riley’s incessant glances in the boy's direction, and her shy smiles whenever Lucas caught her looking, Maya lost her attention. The pair acted as if they held all the answers already. The weight of their camaraderie felt heavy, suffocating her attempts to immerse herself in the material.

"I'm heading to the bathroom," she announced, rising from her seat after an hour. As she passed through the doors, her phone buzzed with a yet another text from her best friend: "Thanks, you're the best" accompanied by a heart emoji. Did Riley believe Maya had orchestrated this to leave them alone? Another message from her friend seemed to confirm her suspicion: "I love you Peaches, you're the best wing woman!"

Shit. Maya cursed under her breath. She had momentarily forgotten about the unspoken rules of girl code, completely absorbed in her worries. Checking her messages again, she discovered a group chat with Farkle and Riley, where they had laid out their plan for the library. A plan Maya had unwittingly missed out on, as she was supposed to leave or ditch the pair, as confirmed by Riley's excitement over their "diabolical genius" plan.

Maya's chest tightened with a pang of anxiety. What if she didn't want to leave yet? She had barely made any progress on her math section. Returning to the tables where the cowboy and the brunette sat, their light laughter ringing in her ears, Maya realized their study session had clearly been cut short.

"Sorry if we're too loud, Peaches," Riley said with a wide smile, but Maya could sense the underlying request in her friend's words. It was clear Riley wanted some one-on-one time with the Golden Boy.

"No problem," the blonde replied, retrieving her belongings, and hastily packing her bag. "Something's came up anyway."

"Oh?" Lucas turned towards Maya, his eyes filled with curiosity, silently urging her to elaborate. His homework was almost done, perfectly organized, and probably worthy of high marks. The imposter’s grave dug deeper into the blonde’s mind.

“My mom needs me to help with…” Maya needed to find words quick… “her audition.”

“Bummer, Farkle just said he couldn’t make it… Something to do with his father” Riley claimed turning off her phone. Maya nodded in comprehension. The plan had been laid as such. Farkle was never supposed to join them at the library, just like Maya was never supposed to stay.

“Alright, I have to go” Maya excused herself and left the spot the two lovebirds had nested. Her bag on her shoulders, burdening her worries.

“No wait” Lucas had swiftly grabbed her arm before she had circled the table to the exit. He had acted so fast; Maya hadn’t expected his hold. “Are you sure?” he asked clearly worried. His soft hold on her wrist had ignited a warm pull in her stomach. Why didn’t she hate his touch? Maya wondered as she raised her eyes and lost herself in his ocean eyes.

“No need to worry about me Lucas, my mom literally just called” that was a lie. He could tell. Maya saw it in his eyes, he didn’t believe her one bit.

“I really wanted us to all study together.” he begged his voice in a lower tone, his eyes reaching deeper depts in hers.

“I really have to go” she pleaded her voice almost a squeak. His touch was too consuming, the kind that was infinitely off limits for her poor soul.

He let go.

Maya took a second before, turning slightly the other way. If this had been anyone else, she would have probably run-away thousands of miles away. But something kept her by his side. His heat toying with her mind.

“See you Monday!” Her friend hugged her in an almost ‘I-had-forgotten’ way. And as she left the doors closed behind her, she heard the familiar buzz “Thank You Peaches! I owe you one!” waiting on her cellphone. Riley was happy. That was all that mattered. Maya’s eyes shut close.

Chapter Text

16:43. Sunday. September 8th. Maya’s studio.

Fortunately, Maya had knocked out most of her homework for the week. The first week of school was always a bit of a breeze compared to the rest of the semester. Her mom had popped in and out with few words exchanged in between. Maya lounged on her couch, feet swinging freely, her school bag abandoned by the door. She grabbed her phone to reply to her best friend Riley's texts. They had plans for the week to dominate the school, with Riley hyping herself up as some kind of powerful ruler. Maya didn't mind Riley's flair for drama; it added some excitement to her otherwise ordinary day.

Their conversation shifted to Riley's newfound connection with Lucas, the cowboy who had caught her friend's eye. According to Riley, they were a perfect match. Maya couldn't help but roll her eyes at Riley's infatuation. It was her job as Riley's best friend to gently bring her back down to earth.

"We stayed an extra 30 minutes because he was struggling with his French homework. I helped him out," Riley's text buzzed in.

"Cool," Maya replied, masking her amusement. She needed to be supportive, even if Riley's enthusiasm sometimes bordered on overwhelming. As Maya scrolled through their conversation, she couldn't shake the feeling of being an unintentional third wheel in their budding romance.

Every detail about Lucas drew her in, despite her attempts to keep her distance. She couldn't ignore the sense of calm he brought or his persistent efforts to engage with her. Among her friends, only Riley and Farkle dared to break through her walls. Lucas, however, seemed unfazed by her defenses. The more she thought about their interactions, the more Maya questioned the nature of Lucas's interest. What if he wasn't solely focused on Riley? The idea unsettled her, shaking the foundation of her assumptions. What would happen if Lucas's intentions strayed from Riley's affection? What then?

8:07. Monday. September 9^th. John Quincy Addams Middle School. Gymnasium.

Monday kicked off with a bang, as their EP class dove straight into action. The teacher wrapped up introductions, orchestrating pairs for Tennis, their first sporting venture of the semester. Despite September's lingering heat, the teacher opted for outdoor play, carefully matching students based on their athletic prowess.

Riley, as per usual, requested to partner up with Farkle. The teacher, familiar with the duo's dynamic, begrudgingly acquiesced, muttering a half-hearted "fine." He knew better than to oppose the brunette's wishes; after all, challenging Riley's choices could lead to unwanted scrutiny from Mr. Matthews in the teachers' lounge.

What Maya dreaded most about Tennis was its resemblance to a burdensome chore. The finesse required to wield a racket and navigate the court with any semblance of skill eluded her grasp. As her classmates paired off and made their way to the equipment storage, Maya found herself lingering behind, a sense of foreboding settling in her stomach. Meanwhile, the teacher remained, ensuring everyone had a partner before venturing onto the courts.

What the blonde failed to notice was the lone figure awaiting her, clutching two bright pink rackets in his hands. It was the cowboy himself, offering himself as her partner with a grin that hinted at mischief. "I'll be your Huckleberry," he declared, handing her one of the prized possessions, ready to face another round of likely humiliating defeat. Maya couldn't help but smile at his choice of words, a charming relic from his Texan roots.

"Wow, is that a real smile I see?" he teased, nudging her lightly with his elbow. For a fleeting moment, Maya felt a crack in her stoic facade as she basked in his warmth. But just as quickly, her emotionless mask returned.

"Got a problem with my smile, Huckleberry?" Maya retorted with a playful pout, earning a soft chuckle from him. His eyes followed the movement of her lips, a subtle exchange that spoke volumes.

"Nah, I like it," he replied, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary, igniting a spark of something unfamiliar within Maya's guarded heart.

Their unlikely duo stepped outside, joining the others who were already gathered, eager to kick off the matches. As a refresher, the teacher reiterated the basic techniques: how to hold the racket, how to aim, and how to serve. However, Maya struggled with these fundamentals.

Noticing her lack of enthusiasm, Lucas intervened with a simple yet earnest offer: "Hey, I'll show you." His warm smile accompanied his hands as they gently wrapped around hers, guiding her into the correct racket stance. The heat of his touch sent a jolt through her, compelling her to meet his gaze. His eyes, akin to waves crashing against the shore, held an allure that drew her in. An inexplicable urge to lean closer to him swept over her, his proximity flooding her senses with the scent of sea breeze and fresh grass.

Her thoughts drifted into forbidden territory, realms that Riley would surely disapprove of. "Here, you've got it," Lucas whispered into her ear, sending shivers cascading down her spine.

Her heart raced erratically, as if attempting to break free from her chest, longing to be swept away along to the ball. "And you get this," Maya declared, pivoting her body to face him, bringing herself barely inches away from his chin. Despite his towering figure, she met his gaze head-on. "Harrruuurrr!" she shouted playfully in his face.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze around them, the court, their classmates, and the game itself fading into the background as their eyes locked in an intense exchange. Could this be the moment when her torment would finally cease?

Returning to reality, Maya heard his laughter erupting from deep within him, overpowering the silence that had momentarily enveloped them. "Are you trying to intimidate me, Hart?" he teased, his endearing accent adding charm to his words. Maya found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his captivating face. His laughter stirred something primal within her, a hunger that ignited a fierce passion she had never known herself capable of.

"Are you trying to intimidate me?" she repeated, her tone tinged with a hint of defiance, her gaze unwavering as she met his eyes with determination.

"Careful!" Someone shouted, and before Maya could register the warning, she found herself enveloped in the familiar scent and warmth of the cowboy. He had intercepted the yellow ball hurtling towards her, shielding her from harm with his quick reflexes. His arms instinctively wrapped around her body, providing a reassuring anchor in the chaos of the moment. As soon as the danger passed, he released her from his protective embrace.

"I can't be a good cowboy if I don't save young maidens from harm," he quipped, his words laced with playful charm as he relinquished his hold on her. Maya couldn't help but shiver as she felt the lingering imprint of his touch on her skin. She had been lost in his warmth for a fleeting moment too long, her senses overwhelmed by the unexpected closeness between them. And she hadn’t hated it.

"Sure, thank you, Lucas," Maya murmured, her voice tinged with stunned surprise. She was taken aback by the unexpected rescue, unsure of how to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. Her body still tingled with newfound urges.

"You know my name?" Lucas asked, half-shocked, his figure turning just enough for the sunlight to perfectly illuminate his features. His endless blue eyes scanned the horizon, searching for their approaching friends. Farkle and Riley soon joined them, their expressions apologetic.

"Are you okay, Peaches?" Riley inquired, concern evident in her touch as she placed a hand on Maya's back.

"Yeah, she's okay," Lucas interjected before Maya could respond, earning a light stomp on the foot in retaliation.

"I can answer for myself, thank you," Maya retorted, turning to face his scowling expression. "And I am not a damsel in distress; I could have handled the hit." Her sense of independence surged back, fueling her determination to stand her ground.

"As if! You're tiny, kind of like a short stack of pancakes." Lucas joked, his hand ruffling her curls playfully. Pouting, Maya felt a surge of frustration as she noticed her supposed best friend Riley chuckling nearby. Why was Riley not coming to her defense? Why was she laughing instead?

"And you're so freakishly tall, you look like a giant," Maya shot back, her retort fueled by a mix of indignation and hurt. But it wasn't Lucas's words that struck a chord with Maya; rather, it was Riley's lack of support that resonated deeply within her.

"More like a tall prince," Lucas countered with unwavering confidence, his words stirring something within Maya that she couldn't quite comprehend. His self-assurance scratched at the surface of her troubled mind. What was this feeling? What did it want from her? Why did the universe bless him with a Colgate smile hot enough to kill? Maya couldn't help but wonder as they continued their play, seamlessly working together as a team. It seemed that Lucas always knew when to strike and how to compensate for her shortcomings. Did he possess the ability to read minds now too?

"Friar-Hart against Figgs-Peters!" the teacher's voice boomed, snapping Maya out of her reverie of her first win. As she turned to face the next match, she caught Lucas's lingering gaze at her from behind, a spark of something inexplicable glinting in his eyes. A slight tingle emanated from her stomach, prompting her to wonder: Had Lucas…? No...it must have been her imagination.

As the end of the period drew near, students began to make their way to the lockers, eager to shed their school gear. Riley waited impatiently for her, fidgeting on the bench with her feet tapping against the metal cases. She was a bundle of nerves.

"Maya?" Riley finally ventured after a few moments of awkward silence; her voice tinged with uncertainty. Other girls had already headed to the changing rooms to swap outfits, but Riley remained, her fingers struggling to fasten an emerald skirt around her hips.

"Mmmh?" Maya turned her attention to her anxious friend, her own attire already half-in place – still draping a black shirt over her torso, paired with ripped jeans. Maya reached up to retrieve the borrowed scrunchie from her unruly curls and handed it back to her friend with a shy smile.

"Do you think Lucas likes me?" Riley's insecurity had been palpable ever since Saturday. Though the girl wouldn’t necessarily admit it, she had pondered that very question thousands of times before voicing it aloud.  

"I don't know," Maya replied honestly, her tone reflecting her lack of insight into Lucas's feelings. There were indeed signs that hinted at a genuine interest but decoding the cowboy's intentions proved to be a perplexing task. While it was evident that he cared deeply for her friend, determining whether it was in a platonic or romantic context was another challenge.

"He barely gave me a look; he spent all period talking to you," Riley lamented, her pout revealing her disappointment and pain.

"I’m sorry," Maya responded, reflecting on their interactions during the first class of the day. True, they had exchanged words, but it was mainly due to being paired up together for sports. Their conversations hadn't been extensive. Nevertheless, their teamwork had proven effective, leading to several victories. Lucas's athleticism was undeniable; Maya should have anticipated it, given his muscular build. "I can switch with you next time." Maya offered, extending a gesture to ease Riley's worries.

"You would?" Riley's eyes lit up at the prospect, her excitement palpable. "Really? That would be great! Thanks, Maya, you're the best friend one could ever hope for!"

Maya finished lacing her shoes, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions. Yes, a best friend. But Maya couldn't shake the nagging doubt of whether Riley would still hold her in such high regard if she knew how her stomach fluttered at the mere sight of Lucas.

11:45. Monday. September 9^th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

They had one more class before lunch, and Maya retrieved her belongings from her locker, making her way to the chemistry lab with Riley by her side. They were inseparable, accustomed to doing everything together; parting ways seemed unfathomable.

Maya couldn't help but notice the drastic shift in Riley's priorities over the past few days. As her best friend, Maya understood that this was… Riley being her usual overtly romantic self. The brunette had amassed a total of seventeen crushes in her lifetime, including animated characters and actors, of course. Riley had theatrically married seven, divorced two, and was currently promised to three more.

In all seriousness, Riley had experienced love countless times before. Whether it was childish infatuation or smiling adulation, her friend had left a trail of broken hearts in her wake, including that of Charlie Garner, a classmate from last year. And now, the other broken heart was awaiting them just beyond the door of the chemistry lab.

"Are you guys trying out for any sports?" Lucas inquired, his gaze shifting to Maya and Riley as they approached their laboratory table.

"Sports? Me?" Farkle chuckled. "I don't do sports; my brain is working out plenty."

"I don't know," Riley admitted with a shy smile directed at the prince. "I tried cheerleading last year, but it didn't work out."

"Too bad, I was going to join the basketball team," Lucas remarked casually.

Riley's eyes lit up within seconds. "Really?"

"Yeah, I need people to encourage me during my games. Are the cheerleaders here also at the games?" Lucas inquired.

"YES!" Riley exclaimed in an overtly dramatic manner, her enthusiasm palpable. Maya couldn't help but roll her eyes at the sudden burst of excitement over sports. She loved Riley dearly, but she couldn't shake the feeling that her friend was more enamored with the idea of attending Lucas's games than actually enjoying the sport itself.

"Not the cheerleader type?" Lucas directed his question to Maya, his awareness of her reaction evident.

"Nope," Maya replied, emphasizing the 'p'.

"Can I ask why?" Lucas's inquisitive gaze bore into Maya's, compelling her to offer an explanation. Maya felt obliged to respond, sensing a genuine curiosity in his eyes. She valued authenticity over superficiality, and Lucas's earnestness deserved a truthful answer.

"I don't see the point in dancing in an overpriced uniform," Maya stated firmly, her tone dismissive and final. She had no intention of elaborating further, and Lucas seemed to understand that. Somewhere in his eyes, Maya sensed that he grasped the underlying message. No, Maya didn't mind the costumes, the glitz, or the cheesy songs; the real issue lay with money. She couldn't afford to join the cheerleading team, purchase the uniform, and attend the games. It was safer for her to remain on the sidelines, where she could cheer and shout without the burden of a looming financial strain. With a nod, the bell rang, signaling the start of class and another session of listening to the drowning voice of Mr. Thompson.

12:38. Monday. September 9^th. John Quincy Addams Middle School. Cafeteria.

"Lucas is trying out for the basketball team, isn't that the hottest thing ever?" Riley exclaimed with excitement. They were sitting at their table, waiting for the boys to join them.

"Uh-huh," Maya nodded in response to Riley's comment, though her mind was preoccupied with other thoughts.

"If he becomes a basketball legend, he can't be dating someone who doesn't bring anything to the table. I need to be on his level, you know. I'm going to try out as a cheerleader," Riley declared confidently.

"You tried out last year already," Maya reminded her friend, not fully engaging with what Riley was saying.

"Yes! But with age comes maturity, and I've grown. I could become captain this time," Riley asserted, spearing the pulled pork into her buttered bun.

"Right..." Maya replied, her skepticism evident. It was hard for her to understand how Riley could become so disconnected from reality at times. The brunette was simply not cut out for cheerleading; not due to a lack of enthusiasm, but rather because she lacked the necessary flexibility and team spirit. Riley thrived on being the center of attention, and cheering alongside a group of girls made her feel less special.

Maya couldn't help but recall her friend's passionate rants from last year about how cheerleading perpetuated the objectification of women as perfect side characters, especially after the coach had rejected the brunette. Despite improvements in the team's choreography and stunts, Maya doubted Riley's suitability for the role. Riley wasn't truly passionate about cheerleading; she was enamored with the idea of becoming head cheerleader, fueled by fantasies propagated by movies, TV shows, and pop culture. In those narratives, the cheerleader was always a main character, and deep down, that's what Riley desired.

Maya didn't want her friend to pursue something solely for the sake of impressing a boy. Even though it wasn't as straightforward as that, Maya couldn't shake the feeling that Riley's decision wasn't entirely her own. Riley needed to learn the lesson that no amount of effort could make a guy care about her. She needed to understand that she could remain true to herself and still be worthy of love.

"Will you do it with me, please? I don't want to be ridiculed if I don't get picked a second time. We can laugh about it," Riley pleaded with Maya.

"But I don't want to be on the team," Maya reiterated.

"Exactly! You'd be my buffer. When they see you, they'll think, 'Woah! This Riley girl isn't that bad,'" Riley explained eagerly.

"You want me to be bad at it?" Maya questioned, puzzled by Riley's logic.

"Yes!" Riley exclaimed.

"Lucas won't care if you're a cheerleader or a figure skater," Maya rationalized. "Your debate club stuff is impressive enough."

“Cheerleaders go to sports games, it’s a good opportunity for me to watch him in action.”

“You could just go to his games as yourself.”

“Maya…” When Riley used that tone, it was better to just accept the situation as is.

“Alright, I’ll be your buffer.”

Riley's decisions were rarely questioned by her best friend, but when it came to the cowboy, Maya couldn't help but feel a certain resistance within herself. She found herself urging Riley to question her beliefs, a behavior that was somewhat out of character for Maya.

Was it the naive approach that was unknowingly affecting Maya's subconscious feelings toward the boy? Or perhaps it was the way Riley seemed to change around Lucas, adopting a serious case of people-pleasing chameleon behavior.

As Maya mulled over these thoughts, she couldn't shake the feeling that something about Riley's newfound interest in cheerleading felt off. It was as if Riley's identity was being overshadowed by her desire to impress Lucas, and Maya couldn't stand idly by and watch her friend lose herself in the process.

16:00. Monday. September 9^th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

"Do you girls have what it takes to make the team?" the coach called out, as they stood on the football field, the grass reserved for the cheerleading team. The speakers blasted a classic cheerleading mix to rile up the troop.

"I don't," Maya whispered in Riley's ear, eliciting a mischievous giggle from her friend. Their plan was simple, but not without its faults. Maya could try to look bad at the stunts, but she possessed an innate talent for dancing and moving, thanks to the countless hours her mother had spent prepping her with music and choreography. Despite her mother's background in acting, she also knew how to dance well.

Missy and her followers watched them like hawks, waiting for an opportunity to witness humiliation. The other girls observed Maya in a peculiar manner, likely crossing her off their list of opponents. With only three spots open on the team, the competition was fierce.

"Come on!" the coach's whistle blew, signaling the start of warm-ups. The girls ran in circles around the track, with Maya deliberately trying to appear slower than the rest.

"Pick up the pace, Hart!" the coach yelled at Maya's lack of speed.

A little later, a lanky figure approached Maya and the coach. It was Farkle. Maya was taken aback by his unexpected presence.

"What are you doing here, Farkle?" Maya questioned as soon as she joined him.

"Riley asked me to join the team with her," Farkle replied simply.

"But you suck at sports," Maya retorted.

"Yep, but I'd do anything for her," Farkle confessed, his smile lacking its usual sparkle.

Maya ushered Farkle to the sidelines, away from the coach's prying eyes.

"Farkle, get out of here now! She only wants us to act as buffers," Maya advised him.

"Yeah, I know," Farkle sighed, his disappointment evident. Riley's crush was spiraling out of control, in Maya's opinion. It seemed much larger than anything Maya had seen before. "She needs us, Maya," Farkle's voice echoed in Maya's consciousness, warning her that this wasn't the way to help her friend.

Yet, as Maya observed Riley smiling broadly with her newfound friend and group of girls, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Riley was becoming a new person, growing up, gaining confidence.

Maya scolded Farkle to leave before Missy's friends questioned his involvement in the tryouts. There was only so much Maya could do to preserve the boy’s reputation, and involving Farkle in a charade with a bunch of girls in tight outfits wasn't going to help. Maya asked him to trust her to make Riley stand out among the crowd. If anyone could salvage the situation, it was Maya.

With a forced smile, Maya joined the group and endured the rest of the hour, determined to showcase just how great Riley was compared to her.

Chapter Text

17:45. Tuesday. September 10^th. Riley’s apartment.

In an unexpected turn of events, the only individuals who had signed up for class president were her three friends. Missy and her clique had adopted a "too cool for school" attitude, while the rest of the students seemed to echo Maya's sentiment: flying under the radar was the preferred approach. Even the nerds had prioritized Dungeons & Dragons over the vacant position. For Riley, this development only fueled her relentless reminders: the path to presidency was clearing. With just a few days left, their group had to persuade their classmates that they were the right choice for this year's leadership.

Unsurprisingly, Farkle had taken a different approach, positioning himself as a singular entity with unparalleled power. He touted his unmatched intelligence, proposing drastic changes such as optimizing class schedules, increasing homework and bonus assignments, and introducing extracurricular projects. Large posters of himself as a world leader adorned every corner of the school, but instead of elevating his likability, they only served to diminish it. Even Maya's disapproving glances couldn't prevent people from criticizing the sudden emergence of a would-be dictator. The path to presidency was growing increasingly chaotic.

Another unsurprising development, Riley's campaign was largely performative, featuring dramatic speeches about equality among students, advocating for the removal of round cafeteria tables due to their discomfort and perceived promotion of social division. She proposed implementing music sessions during the last period and adding horse riding to the EP curriculum. Additionally, Riley suggested organizing more formal dances and events that required dressing up, further solidifying her image as a princess.

Riley had entrusted Maya with the task of personally engaging with every student in their year to persuade them to vote for her. Though Riley framed it as "making a connection with her people," Maya understood it as "just bully them into voting for me."

Maya spent the day fulfilling Riley's request, approaching her classmates with the authority of a sergeant, even stopping to reprimand the popular crowd for mocking Farkle's posters along the way. The amusing twist was that Maya didn't actually want to vote for her friends. It wasn't a matter of refusal; publicly, her allegiance had to go to Riley by default. Objectively speaking, however, Maya couldn't help but feel that her best friend wasn't the best choice for president.

Riley's indecisiveness was well-known, marked by her frequent shifts between hot and cold moods and her tendency to disregard boundaries. While she excelled in debate and demonstrated raw intensity, she fell short as a listener. That very morning, Maya had assisted in selecting outfits for Riley's campaign, only to find her friend too enamoured with her own ideas to give Maya's suggestions more than a passing nod. During the first break, Maya had coordinated with the school secretaries to broadcast the princess' messages during the second period. At lunch, she had secured approval to distribute flyers for Riley's campaign, though Riley's "personalized approach" involved little more than Maya shoving flyers in students' faces. And on the last break, Riley had tasked Maya with brainstorming a new, innovative idea for her presidency, which they were currently fleshing out for implementation the next day.

"This is horrible!" The brunette lashed out at their last grand idea. The girls stood by the bay window, surrounded by a sea of papers strewn across the ground and benches, forming a collage of campaign drafts and discarded ideas.

"You said it was fine two minutes ago!" Maya's voice betrayed her growing frustration with her friend.

"They're never going to take me seriously," Riley whined, tearing the drafts apart into pieces. Maya groaned inwardly; they weren't making any progress. At this rate, they were bound to lose by a landslide.

Taking advantage of the commotion, Maya allowed herself a well-deserved break, doodling small red hearts on some of the posters that Riley had called back last minute. The brunette seemed particularly displeased with how the crown on her head had smudged slightly in the printer.

"Farkle is going all out with his daddy's money," Riley lamented with a frustrated sigh.

"Yep," Maya agreed with a resigned nod. The school presidency had turned into a farce; candidates were supposed to operate within a small budget to persuade their peers, but without official guidelines or limitations, those with deeper pockets could stretch their ideas to the max, leaving the rest to rely on the limited resources available within the school.

"Maya...!" Riley's urgent voice snapped the blonde out of her thoughts, sounding like an emergency vehicle stuck in traffic. "Come on, we need to focus." Riley was right; if they wanted to stand a chance against Farkle, they needed more than mere delusions. However, Maya harboured doubts that Riley would heed her own advice.

"Yeah..." Maya's gaze drifted to the new piece of paper the brunette was using to list her changes. Frankly, Maya doubted their strategy would be enough to outmaneuver the only real competitor in the race. The cowboy was gaining popularity by the day.

12:34. Wednesday. September 11^th.  John Quincy Addams Middle School. Cafeteria

Amidst the tense competition among the three friends, they had opted to sit in separate areas during lunch. Lucas had joined the basketball clique, mingling with some of the popular crowd, including the ever-smug Missy Bradford. This, combined with the mounting stress of the campaign, had taken a toll on Riley, leaving her increasingly anxious about her standing with the cowboy.

"Farkle is giving out cupcakes," Riley sighed in desperation, her eyes fixed on their friend's display. Farkle had set up a table adorned with mountains of colourful cupcakes, each meticulously iced with "Vote Farkle," accompanied by napkins outlining his proposals. Clad in his neatest business suit and with his hair slicked back, he exuded the air of a determined man, banking on his assets to surpass the competition. Undoubtedly, Farkle had received advice from his overachiever dad on how to approach the elections. However, something essential seemed to be missing.

Middle schoolers didn't care about professionalism; it only served to alienate individuals from the real issues at hand. However, Riley wasn’t of the same opinion. No, instead, she sat before them, nervously chewing on her painted blue nails, her feet drumming anxiously against the floor.

"It's bribery," Maya declared, finishing the pink cupcake Farkle had thrust into her hands before the girl could protest. Encouraging Riley was one thing, but it didn't mean she couldn't indulge in the delicious treats crafted by the enemy. The irony of the situation didn't escape the blonde; she was simply choosing to rise above trivial rivalries and enjoy a sweet indulgence.

“It’s unfair!” Riley whined, as if she hadn't stooped as low as the evil genius with her different tactics. After all the talking and convincing Maya had done on her behalf yesterday, it was only natural that the boy would retaliate.

So far, the only person in the competition who hadn't resorted to dirty tactics was Lucas. He remained true to himself, engaging with various students as he always did, focusing on his speeches and maintaining his kind aura. His new status as a student had piqued the curiosity of others, who were enthralled by his personality, and his recent spot on the basketball team added another layer of credibility to his reputation. He was a prized possession, and for some students, conversing with him felt like an incredible opportunity to elevate their status in the middle school popularity game.

“We’ll discredit him,” Maya suggested for beating Farkle.

But with Lucas, it was an entirely different story. Maya wanted Riley to win, but her friend had declared not wanting to 'crass his reputation' every time Maya had tried to suggest a tactic to beat him.

“How? He’s a genius and rich! He can own up to anything!” Riley whimpered in her arms, seeking solace in her best friend’s embrace. Wrapping her arms tightly around Riley, her breath slightly suffocated by the brunette hair, Maya answered:

“Don’t forget, you still have me.”

8:00. Thursday. September 12^th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

As much as Maya didn’t want to admit it, Huckleberry had great initiatives. Contrary to his two opponents, the cowboy’s campaign had been quite a surprise. Lucas’ promotion focused on new ideas for the school: longer lunch breaks, less expensive food at the cafeteria, cultural outings in class, voluntary work as added class credit, and more project-focused work. His ideas had spurred controversy between her two torn friends, as they had both confided in Maya, agreeing on some levels with the initiatives suggested by the cowboy for their own campaign.

Lucas’ charm seemed to enthral most of the girls in their year. It’s not like Maya hadn’t noticed the lingering looks following his every move, but it had never been a problem before. Until, Riley and the blonde watched as Missy placed a very strategic arm around the cowboy’s shoulders. Pale-faced and green-eyed, Riley had asked Maya with fury:

“What is she doing with him?”

Maya was doing her best to hide the strange feeling fluttering inside her stomach, the kind of disgust and repulsion she had rarely felt.

“I−” The blonde preferred not to say. It was clear that Missy was enjoying every bit of the distance between the friend group. It seemed maybe Lucas had not been quite as loyal as Maya had hoped he would prove himself. Maya chose not to answer her friend’s demand; she would have lied anyway.

Riley trailed off, stomping her feet to her desk, probably considering new ways to end Farkle’s career while envisioning the beheading of Missy. Where Maya thought it was a good idea to beat her friend, if Riley didn’t open her eyes now, the real threat would win the hearts of too many hesitant voters.

17:30. Friday. September 13^th. John Quincy Addams Middle School. Library.

The gang had spent the week barely talking to each other. Maya wasn’t sure she could count on the cowboy to come back once the election would end. He seemed awfully fine with his new group of groupies. Or rather, the popular crowd.

“You can’t tell her I helped you.” Maya whispered under her breath, as she amassed papers under a burrowed book on war tactics.

“I won’t tell a soul.” Farkle promised. What Maya had forgotten to mention was her involvement in both campaigns, Farkle had pleaded on his knees, asking help from his friend, and Maya had been the one pushing him behind closed doors. Farkle was still her best friend too. He needed all the support he could get. And truly, Maya didn’t have the heart to shun him for days only for a petty competition.

There was no doubt in the blonde’s mind, that he would make an awful choice of president. Maya loved him dearly, but whenever Farkle was in a position of power, he lost control and became overwhelmed. Without mentioning, that he had trouble relating the crowd, with his genius brain, and can-do attitude, no challenge was too big for him. Especially when it related to school, he was ready for more challenges, ones that were a little too advanced for this class. His classmates wouldn’t understand that need, nor give him the satisfaction of validation, when he was already a hard person to relate to. Maya had tried to convince him to give up his dictatorship persona for a more grounded presentation, and to work on his relatability quota. He hadn’t listened. His ego wouldn’t permit such. He trusted his intuition and preferred relying on his wits. Forgetting the bigger picture: most middle schoolers weren’t like him.

“Should I ask the teachers to recite one of my speeches in class? Or should I make a grand entrance in the cafeteria with music?” He has suggested two horrible options in the blonde’s opinion, but she wasn’t about to crush his ideas to the ground.

“How about something less flashy?” Maya tried to redirect him to a cooler show of his excellence, like show a neat trick during lunch time, to tweak a few of his propositions to less study-oriented areas.

“I want to make an impression.” Oh. He. Had. Certainly, but Maya needed to quiet the fire, and contain the flame. She needed to use it more efficiently. Or hose it down with a dose of reality.

“Make sure your crowds are voting for you, secure them first, then, we’ll talk about the others.” What Maya was referring to, were the people Farkle had the most interactions with, namely, the nerds, some normies, and the people in their class. The debate club, the first years, and chess club were most likely to vote for him. If he could secure these, then, he’d be posing a real threat.

“What can I do to crush Lucas?” Farkle asked, his eyes burning with a kind of wickedness, Maya knew was linked to his unhealthy crush. He wanted the brunette to himself, but also valued Lucas to a certain degree. He got along well with him, surprisingly, and but it also caused a slight jealousy problem.

“Expose one of his secrets to the school.” Maya made sure to throw a look around them. They were alone, as nobody wanted to linger longer in the halls of the school a Friday other than Farkle. Since Riley had taken a ride from her father, she hadn’t asked questions as to why her two friends weren’t heading out straight away. They had chosen the library as it procured an intimate and private area to discuss sensitive matters. The librarian, Ms Figgs, was on Farkle’s side anyway.

“What do you think he’s hiding?” Farkle asked as he got his pen ready to make a list of tasks to finish before Monday.

“Something bad.” Maya smiled lightly. She wasn’t proud of her suggestion, but with the situation, it was the only way to discredit him and win the title. Riley was too high up in her delusions to realize just how many students the cowboy had charmed. And Farkle had the means to find the kind of information they needed.

“What do you think we’ll find?”

Maya raised her shoulders to an: I don’t know stance. If they were lucky, nothing too bad. Fate might not be on their side. In a matter of minutes, everything that had ever been recorded on Lucas Friar, his past, present and future was compiled in an e-mail, forwarded thanks to the security team of Minkus Enterprises. In another life, this could have easily been a villain origin story. Now the question was whether, the pair had the guts to open it or not.

Chapter Text

14:02. Saturday. September 14^th. Daisy's Coffee shop.

Farkle and Maya had chosen a small coffee shop to a walkable distance from Maya’s appartement. She had picked the area specifically not to attract notice and risk getting seen by their classmates accidentally. New York might have been a large city, but the chances to run into unexpected peers were of a higher rate on a weekend day. Sitting on the bench seat by the wall, Maya waited for her friend to come with their orders. Two hot chocolates with a mountain of whipped cream and cocoa powder. Farkle had invited her, and to her relief, paid for their drinks. Since this was his idea, he took responsibly for her, a comforting thought to the blonde.

She had forwarded the e-mail to herself, to make sure the information collected would have a second home. Maya desperately wanted to read the content of the file, but not without talking to Farkle first. Yesterday, he had to leave in a hurry for his family dinner, and they hadn’t been able to discuss much since. She had assumed he had taken a portion of his evening reading the piece, thought she couldn’t have known how many minutes. Maya hadn’t had the courage to open it herself. Her dilemma laid somewhere in between her own misplaced curiosity, her rebellious tendencies screaming to open the e-mail, and respecting the boy’s privacy. She didn’t know Lucas well for the short two weeks they had spent together, but his family had welcomed her, and he had always been so…thoughtful at respecting her boundaries with sharing information. It sure was a normal reaction to extend the same hand to him, but with the votes drawing nearer, it may be the only window left to sweep the victory out of his large hands. Though, she knew elections were just another way to get people noticed, that the results didn’t matter much, and that the initiatives had little to no way of getting implemented, her friends cared for it, and so it had to matter to Maya as well. Taking a seat by her side, Farkle slipped inside the gap in between the table and the bench and dropped their cups loudly on the table. Receiving small glances from other clients, the café was a chatty place to regroup, with the sounds of others talking, drinking, and eating loudly.

“So” Farkle sipped on his hot drink, getting slightly burned in the way. His face contortioned, with his tongue searching a colder environment. His upper lip smeared with whipped cream; Maya couldn’t help but want to wipe it from his silly face.

“So” Maya answered, as she watched the specks of cocoa powder land on his chin. She wondered how he had managed to look this uncomposed after just one sip. It was a funny sight. Her friend had chosen to wear a bright red t-shirt with a longer white undershirt the ensemble was branded with The Flash logo. His hair combed to the right; he moved over to his bag to get his notes.

“You know everything now.”

“I do.”

That much was clear from his deeply serious expression he had switched to once his notes hit the table. Farkle was an easy person to read, his expressive face made for rather energetic conversations. Ones that rarely tired the blonde.

“Can we use something for your campaign?” She dared to ask, with little to no clue what was detailed in the e-mail entailed, she figured going into this conversation blindly was the best way to go. Was it a necessity if nothing of importance was lodged in between those lines? Making such an effort to read files that might not be worth anything. Maya doubted it.

“Plenty.” Farkle’s expression puzzled, his feelings seemed somehow…mixed. This further peaked the blonde curiosity. What was inside the e-mail? Should she have opened it? And how come the evil genius didn’t look excited at the prospect of crushing his competition?

“What are you waiting for?” Maya was growing weary. With each passing second of hesitation from the boy in from of her. His leg was twitching to an uncontrollable tapping, his breathing had picked up a tense rhythm. Until his words reached her ears.

“It’s going to ruin him.” How come any of the e-mail content destroy someone? Maya wondered.

“How bad are we talking?” At this moment, alarms rang inside of her head, warning her of danger ahead. Was Lucas a criminal? A fugitive or a dealer? Some voice of reason came to the rescue, assuring her, he had never done anything to hurt the blonde, nor her friends so far. His family looked every bit the normal part, his room was decorated in a typical schoolboy, he had never smelled of weed, drugs, or anything other than ocean waves and grass. The teachers had never treated him any differently, nor had he been called often to the principal’s office. Maya checked other boxes of her list of suspicious behavior, thought, it seemed Lucas was a totally normal person according to it.

“I rather not say.”

The blonde paused to think it through. If Farkle wasn’t comfortable sharing this information, it was something of great importance. Lucas had done things. Whatever they were, it was enough to sully his reputation to ruins once people found out.

“Maya. I wish I could use some stuff, but if I do, I am putting myself in trouble. The school board will expel me for reporting this.”

“Is it this bad?” Puzzled, lost, and perplexed, Maya took a moment to analyze the situation further. Was Riley in constant danger throwing herself at him? Was it safe for them to be friends?

“No election is worth ruining someone’s life. I won’t discredit him.” Farkle assured.

Maya nodded. Doubting her ability to do the same. If this move meant securing the position to one of her friends? Riley had been excitedly talking about such plans for so long, to find a way to embrace her talent and individuality, to prove she was better than the general opinion and could influence the population. Her grand plans, her shot at acceptation. While Farkle used this as a way to promote his intelligence, it was also the best way to ensure his personal needs were taken cared of, that his wits were used for the greater good.  

And could Maya refrain from opening the file and discover it for herself? Farkle may not have been aware, but the blonde had sent the file to her own email account. He might not agree with the move, but it felt safer to her. Though, she hadn’t had the courage to open it yet, the file might just be the eye-opener she needed to rid some budding feelings she had recently noticed when it came to the cowboy.

It couldn’t have come at a better time. What a better way to stop exciting over a guy than read all of his bad deeds? One thing was for sure, Maya wasn’t in a forgiving mood.

14:14. Sunday. September 15^th. Riley’s appartement.

A knock on the door disturbed their ongoing debate over the best romantic interest in a new series the girls were recently watching. By the bay window, the girls were comparing heartthrobs; so far, the older one of the two crushes was winning.

“How are you girls doing?” Topanga entered the room with a plate of cookies. The fresh batch smelled right out of the oven, with a chocolate chip spread that knocked Maya over the seat. They were the best cookies in the universe: packed with chunky bits of brown delights, crunchy on the outside, and melting inside. They tasted like heaven. Riley had taken the opportunity to get them glasses of milk and call Auggie to join them. While she was out, Maya used those precious minutes to have a one-on-one talk with Topanga.

“I need advice,” the blonde voiced out, fidgeting with her fingers, not daring to meet the mother’s eyes. “If you knew one of your friends secretly did something bad, and you have the means to find out, should you go forward and discover it? Or never find out and leave it a secret?” Maya asked, trying her best not to divulge a name. She wished she could share the details, but once names were dropped, rationality would also take a back seat.

“Does this have anything to do with the elections coming up?” Topanga responded, finally reaching the blonde’s gaze.

“Yes.”

“Could this secret affect the results of the vote?” Topanga sat down by her side, opening the window to let a small whiff of air reach the room. She had dropped the cookies on Riley’s side of the bay window, the right one, waiting for the brunette to come back.

As a lawyer, Topanga was used to grilling witnesses in court and making them admit their wrongs effortlessly. In that instant, Maya wondered how terrifying Topanga must have looked from the stand. She was a strong figure, with a proud attitude and a soft look that spelled adorable but could also enjoy drowning you. She was a force to be reckoned with, a powerful agent of mediation, and had defended so many criminals. Maya knew deep in her heart that one day, Topanga would defend her too. Against everyone, Topanga would stand with her in the chaos. The mother considered the girl like a second daughter and was adamant about fighting for her rights. If it hadn’t been for her, Maya didn’t know where she would stand or live for that matter. The woman had been of great help for many years. But she wasn’t blood, and that meant, at the end of the day, Riley was always going to be prioritized over her. That was the role of a parent. And while her mother hadn’t chained herself to such duty, it was not Topanga’s responsibility to shoulder the burden of Maya’s existence.

“Yes.”

The questions were particularly incriminating, but Maya didn’t mind, as she was only consulting her second mother to make sure she was doing the right thing. The blonde’s curiosity was endlessly piqued by the idea of finding out, but was she going to rise above it and become a greater person or risk losing the little friendship she had built with the cowboy over past actions?

“Has the person shared willingly the incriminating evidence?” Topanga questioned further. Maya could hear Riley asking Auggie to join them, with a light exchange. If only she had more time to think it through, but any other time would have sounded suspicious in Riley’s eyes. Why would Maya inquire a meeting with her mother for a top-secret subject? Why keep it between the two? Maya had to hurry up and finish this conversation before Riley came back. The brunette was a tell-all, but mostly, she was a deeply curious person. Being in possession of such a file would only end one way: opened and read through. While Maya believed some things were better left unlearnt, unread, unseen, Riley was one to advocate for transparency.

“No.”

“Are they aware it’s in your possession?” Topanga noticed the rushed answer from Maya and picked up the pace too.

“No.”

Sensing her nervousness from Riley’s closeness to returning, Topanga hurried in her explanation. “In my line of work, I see many people making the wrong choice and ending up on less than desirable paths. But one thing I’ve come to realize is that regret can lead to change. Are you scared this information will shift your perception of them?”

“I am.”

“Then let their present actions and words affect your vision. Their past isn’t important as long as it doesn’t give you a reason to worry in the present. You are still young enough to break free and choose your destiny. You’re allowed to grow and make mistakes. And remember: how would you like to be treated in a similar situation?”

Maya had made her choice. She was ignoring the email and trusting Farkle to tell her if the boy’s past was a danger to Riley or him. Lucas’ past be damned for all she cared. For the things she had to do to survive, she understood some choices had to be made, and some were not a reflection of the self, but of the circumstances. Actions spoke louder than words, and inaction was a conscious choice of those with the freedom of privilege. Maya was actively choosing to ignore the past and concentrate solely on what she knew of him right this instant, hoping this choice wasn’t going to bite her back.

10:56. Monday. September 16^th. John Quincy Addams Middle School. Corridor.

With the elections coming to an end tomorrow, the frenzy campaign was reaching its peak. Farkle had redoubled his efforts, talking to nerds, normies, and the younger crowds, trying to secure his last loyal voter. As she gathered her things for her next class, Maya was by her locker alone, as Riley had chosen to speak with a few people from the debate club about their most recent topic. Maya had been swamped with a list of people to intimidate that morning to get the election on Riley’s side. Tired of the incessant looks from other students gauging why the blonde had suddenly started mingling with new crowds because of the elections, Maya didn’t like the attention. She would rather become a rainworm burning under the Sahara Desert. She still had one stop to the bathroom before her class started and had ignored Farkle’s pleas to corrupt her completely to his side that morning. The boy had incessantly texted her, though class time had been a good break, for once. A voice over her shoulder stopped her train of thought. The corridor had been as chaotic as ever, with middle schoolers coming and going, throwing papers, and loudly babbling on whatever new thing was attractive enough to speak of.

“So, how’s the dual campaign going for you?” Turning around to an ocean set of eyes looking at her, Maya saw it was Lucas inquiring. The boy had chosen a bold red polo shirt and paired it with blue denim jeans. His hair was slightly messy from his hand recently playing with it, and his smile had discovered a new way to mess with her. His dimple was showing; a spark of mischief lit his features. Why was his question so playfully aware of her involvement in both campaigns?

“What do you mean?” The blonde was getting skeptical by the millisecond. How could he have guessed? She had made sure her help in Farkle’s election proposals was kept a sealed secret, even from Riley.

“Having two best friends running mustn’t be easy.” Lucas said nonchalantly as if he knew exactly what the blonde was doing behind closed doors. Raising a suspicious eyebrow, Maya pointed her index finger to his chest.

“Would be going smoothly if it weren’t for a certain needle meddling with my haystack.”

“Yeah, I heard politics change people.” His tone wasn’t betraying his intentions, messing with her head. As always, she didn’t let it affect her. At least, that’s what she reassured herself with. Lucas was exuding a confidence that was in stark contrast to her best friends' neurotic personalities.

“And have you changed, Huckleberry?” Maya asked, looking deeply into his eyes with a serious undertone. Her intention was indeed to know if his past was still affecting his future. If the pattern of whatever bad thing he had done before was showing again. Whatever the boy was hiding might not have been her place to find, but if it affected in any way her friendship, she was going to open that email quicker than he could fall off a bull. She might have chosen peace, but she could go back on her decision still. She hadn’t had the heart to completely delete the e-mail. Her rationality warned her to keep it as a safeguard. She had spent the night before torturing her brain with the decision. Burying the information was a good option; deleting it could only make her lose the ability to use that information later, in the case of grave circumstances.

“Maybe I have.” He winked and left her to find his locker. His large back had been molded to the shirt in a way that resulted in Maya discovering she quite liked looking at him from behind. Another reason to stray away from the boy, his back was a little too tempting to gaze at. Soon enough, his body was engulfed by the sea of middle schoolers.

Another figure approached her in the crowd, another recognizable face. His neon green shirt hanging on his shoulders, Farkle waved at her, only to ask: “What’s he doing with you? Are you helping him too?” as soon as he reached her locker.

“Nope, he was only saying hi.” Maya defended, her lips slightly pouting from the lack of trust her friend was clearly giving her. Farkle knew better than this; why would he ask such a thing?

The blonde hadn’t picked up on the underlying green eyes that the boy was sporting whenever the girl was in the presence of the Roman figure. He wasn’t the only one who had witnessed the tense exchange between the two opposing figures. Other students had taken a liking to watching the pair argue, fight, or talk. Some rumors had started spreading, ones that could only end one way.

“Didn’t look like that.” Farkle had been partially right. For onlookers, the cowboy’s exchanges with Maya looked more familiar than the dialogue seemed to give off. Their looks, their posture, and their chemistry had intrigued many in how the pair seemed to always be at each other’s throats while simultaneously seeking each other in any form. A strange sight for a bunch of middle schoolers still trying to wrap their heads around the new guy. Did Maya know him better than some? Was the gang hiding a secret? To some, the quartet seemed almost polyamorous, with all the crushes, wanting and longing between the figures; it was a love hazard to approach them. But it made for interesting conversations. And with two girls seemingly interested in one cowboy, one desperately trying, and one constantly burying her affection, Lucas’ popularity only rose higher. A love triangle narrative was a better story than elections anyway.

Maya turned to her friend in a frustrated manner; she didn’t like the implications of his sentence. She would never betray her friend Riley that way, nor would she have done that behind their backs. The blonde had had enough of the elections, enough of their friendship on the tightrope.

“What did it look like?”

Ever since the craziness started, she had been treated as a tug-of-war rope. Expected to obey her friends’ whims and wishes without a care in the world about the repercussions of their actions. The rebel wasn’t comfortable with such responsibility on her shoulders when her life was barely holding on by a thread. She had more pressing matters than school status; passing her classes for once was her number one priority, that and finding a way to provide for herself before her mother inevitably kicked her out. Her frustration was now directed at her best friend, Farkle, who had forgotten about her feelings in that second, blinded by his own insecurities and certain jealousy.

“I’d rather not say.” He wasn’t sorry, nor was he aware of his impact on her psyche. Maya turned around, as she spotted Riley coming closer to their locker section.

“Yeah, I figured.” Just like the e-mail, just like he always did with Riley to protect her from hurtful but true facts about the world, Farkle had chosen inaction, silence, and cowardice. Maya had enough of riddles for one day. Math class was enough already. If Farkle had wanted to, he would have voiced his opinions out loud, but for now, it didn’t matter if he thought she was flirting with the boy or if he assumed she was corrupted to the point of three playing all of the players. Standing above the division, Maya walked away.

13:30. Tuesday. September 17th. John Quincy Addams Middle School. Gymnasium

The gymnasium buzzed with anticipation as the momentous announcement unfolded. The entire student body gathered around the improvised platform, eyes fixed on the stage, where the results of the school presidency hung in the air like a tightly wound secret. The tension was palpable as the principal finally revealed, "And now, for the school presidency, with a jaw-dropping number of votes, the coveted title goes to..." A pause struck as people exhaled in anticipation. Looking back on the heavy mess that had transpired during the past week, Maya sighed in relief. Once this election was over, she hoped to find her two friends back and forget the ordeal. "Lucas Friar from Mr. Matthews' class." The words hung like a light sentence in the depths of the room as the school grappled with the implications of the new school president announcement.

"Lucas won?!" Farkle and Riley exclaimed in unison. They had been standing by his side, close to the principal, waiting impatiently for the results. One dressed as a dictator and the other as a royal, in silly costumes they had both insisted on wearing for the event, despite Maya's clear opposition.

Their expressions were a kaleidoscope of astonishment, bewilderment, and a subtle hint of betrayal. Riley's exclamation rang louder than the applause that followed, her crush on Lucas obvious to everyone within earshot. Maya, on the other hand, managed to keep her emotions in check, her subtle smirk hiding the unspoken truth. She had known about the result before anyone else. It was as clear as water that Lucas had won people over a thousand times over. His confident self, wearing simple jeans and a white button-up, was dressed the part without overdoing it.

"How? He's the new kid!" Riley blurted out, her disbelief evident, while Farkle, battling his own mix of emotions, seemed on the verge of a physical breakdown. Tremors overtook him, rendering him temporarily incapacitated. Maya sighed once again, stepping on the platform to guide Farkle back to reality, gently reminding him of the impending debate club elections. She then embraced Riley, acknowledging her brave effort, knowing that Riley's loud crush had just become more challenging to navigate.

Lucas, seemingly unaffected by the commotion, descended from the podium after the customary presidential wave and acknowledgement speech. His feelings remained an enigma. Though his smile was triumphant, something was clearly weighing on his mind. Maya had seen it coming—the dynamic between Lucas and Farkle, the unspoken tension in the air. Farkle’s features tensed as the boy approached the trio, but white flags rose once the boy’s words reached their ears.

“I need one of you as my secretary,” Lucas announced, casting a searching gaze at the trio for a volunteer. The students started spreading out, heading to their next class. Teachers had given them a few minutes to join their assigned subjects.

“I’m running for debate president,” Farkle hastily explained, rushing off to the locker rooms for a quick wardrobe change with the rest of the students leaving the gym. Maya glanced at Riley, sensing an opportunity for her to spend time with Lucas. But before the brunette could answer, Lucas pressed the matter into his own hands.

“How about changing sides, Hart?” His eyes were initiating a silent fight. He was testing her once again.

“Why would I team up with the enemy?” Maya retorted, her words a playful façade concealing the unspoken beneath the surface. Riley was still there, the option for her to take that role was up for grabs, and she could easily spend that precious time with her prince.

"They say keep your friends close and your enemies closer," Lucas replied, a sly smile playing on his lips. Maya knew the exact sentence that could end this conversation, with the past heavily playing with her head. Curiosity was still on her mind.

"Do cowboys even know how to read?" she teased. She was a lost cause. Riley had been going back and forth between the pair, watching the exchange and waiting for her moment to confirm or decline the boy’s offer.

"No, they don't. You could teach me. J'ai besoin d'aide," he grinned, and Maya felt her own smile grow. Crap. He was adorable.

"Mmh, don’t tempt me, or I will smack you with a boot," Maya retorted, shutting down her smile as she made her way towards the girls' lockers. The air between her and Lucas felt charged, and she needed space from him after that exchange. But he followed her, like he hadn’t had enough of their conversation. How could he say things like that so casually? Sometimes, it felt like he was... like he was… Maya's thoughts were a tangled mess, and her head seemed on the brink of exploding with frustration. Why did it feel like she was stuck in this emotional turmoil? Why couldn't she just accept it? She, well, Maya was starting to like...

"I’ll gladly do it, Lucas!" Riley exclaimed, shutting down the exchange with an axe. In one sentence, Lucas and Maya turned to her, as if only remembering her presence. The boy nodded, giving his endless thanks to the brunette and shaking her hand in a businesslike manner.

In a matter of seconds, Riley had swept the rug out from under her friend. She had taken the opportunity for herself, assuming Lucas wanted her. Dismissing the conversation, she had imposed on them; it was well within her rights, but a sour taste was spreading in Maya’s mouth. Why did it feel like Riley had somehow broken a moment? Shaking her head, trying to rationalize what had happened moments before, Maya concluded: Lucas was Riley’s. She had no right to feel threatened by Riley’s imposed actions; she was the only taking what was rightfully hers.

Whatever happened, flirt or not, Maya had no right to speak to the cowboy unless her best friend approved of it. Lucas was not her friend; he was her friend’s potential boyfriend, and she could never be alone with him again, or she would lose the little sanity she had gained back during the week.

Forcefully closing the lockers with a loud clash, Riley and she met in the locker room for the girl to change for their next class. The royal attire was not school-approved.

“He is dreamy... Did you see? He wanted me to help with his presidency. Me. Can you believe it?” Riley was on cloud nine, but Maya struggled to share in her friend's excitement, her mind overanalyzing another aspect of that encounter.

“Yeah,” Maya nodded absentmindedly, her thoughts consumed by the complexities of her own emotions.

"I think he likes me," Riley declared, finishing the sentence as she slipped into her cutesy flats. "We are totally going to be dating by the end of the year." The brunette winked, hinting at the apparent weekly sessions the pair would spend dealing with class issues. Maya just wanted to go home, the weight of her unspoken feelings pressing down on her as she navigated the tricky territory of her emotions and her loyalty to Riley. If Lucas was really Riley’s, then why did he seem just as taken by their exchanges? And more importantly, did the cowboy actually like Riley the way she seemed so convinced he was reciprocating?

Chapter Text

7:50. Friday. September 20th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

The election of the cowboy had elevated him to an almost god-like status in their grade. Few had become as popular as him, and it was only the third week of school. With his involvement in sports, good looks, great personality, political awareness, and kindred spirit, the coveted title of Lucas' girlfriend was becoming increasingly appealing, even to the coldest of hearts. Missy Bradfort had positioned herself as a contender, always spotted seeking him out, asking for homework help, batting her heavy eyelids in his direction, and more. She was undoubtedly a formidable rival, but this didn’t deter a few brave girls from approaching the boy with heart-shaped eyes. Maya’s best friend, Riley, had also made her intentions clear with her attitude, overly friendly gestures towards him, and the not-so-subtle annotations in her notebook spelling “L + R = ♥”. It was obvious from miles away just how much the brunette was smitten with Lucas.

Funnily enough, Maya had noticed more and more people watching her interactions with the cowboy, as if she were part of a TV show, with eyes watching from every corner, producing a strange effect whenever the two went head-to-head. In class, snickers, encouragement, and laughter often accompanied their private conversations. It was an unsettling thought, as Maya much preferred hiding in the shadows, but something about the cowboy’s personality or physique made him stand out wherever he went.

Right after the elections, a sort of understanding between the gang formed, the result of the elections didn’t stop them from enjoying each other’s presence. The friendship with Farkle recovered from the loss for the most part. And Maya’s involvement in his campaign remained a secret. Riley had refrained from commenting on Farkle’s tactics, and the opposite had been reciprocated. The trio had found its rhythm back and were just as strongly bonded as before. It was almost as if nothing had happened, as if the only person affected had been the blonde.

Maya had tried to go about her days as usual, her indifferent face masking her every move. She was still torn over the information Farkle could have used against the cowboy and how easily Riley and her best friend had been tempted by power. On top of that, her everyday worries were piling up. With her mother’s new job at a diner close to their apartment, Maya grappled with anxiety, wondering if the food that had suddenly appeared in the fridge was bought or stolen. It was a thought that haunted the few days on a full stomach.

No wonder that morning she hadn’t met with Riley for an early rise; she still had a few exercises to finish before class and used that precious time to complete them instead of meeting her dear friend. It wasn’t the first time Maya had missed their morning routine; it wasn’t a requirement to join Riley every morning. Sometimes, Maya just needed to establish a certain distance from the brunette. Getting wrapped up in Rileytown was exciting and a good distraction, but it often led to disappointment when faced with the harsh reality of Mayaville.

The nicknames had been chosen years ago to describe how each girl’s view of the world, environment, and actions differed. A citizen of Rileytown was more likely to hug a stuffed animal to death, while a Mayaville resident would probably cut the fluff in half. Or rather, that was the narrative Riley had come up with to differentiate between their contrasting personalities: the sweet and the sour, the fire and the ice, Rileytown and Mayaville.

Joining her best friend in the corridors to her lockers, Maya greeted her as usual. As she glanced behind the brunette in a tightly held welcoming hug, Maya noticed the back of her frenemy. The cowboy was discussing with other basketball players on the team, the elections had brought their team closer, with Billy and Jonathan seemingly budding with the new face.

Their gang still counted Lucas in its ranks, but something had shifted since the elections. He devoted more time to other students, among them, the popular crowd and normies. During some breaks, and lunchtime. Maya wondered if that was a necessary evil for justifying their votes or if the boy preferred spending his time with the other crowds. Today, the cowboy was wearing a black cotton shirt that highlighted his sun-kissed skin and large biceps.

In reality, the sight of Lucas among the middle-schoolers was a peculiar combination. He was in every way bigger, taller, and brighter. He stood out like a sore thumb in their mediocre audience. Turning around to meet her eyes, it was as if she had been caught like a deer in headlights. Maya frowned at the cheeky smile he directed her way. Trying to forget the embarrassment of getting caught watching, she opened her locker to store her notes and agenda. Maya’s train of thought was suddenly interrupted by Riley’s voice.

"What's that?" The girl gestured towards the small black envelope that had fallen from Maya's locker.

"No clue," Maya replied with a shake of her head, her curiosity still piqued. She had never received anything like it before. The piece seemed oddly weighty in Maya's hand as she picked it up from the ground. Carefully tearing open the envelope, she found a magnetic card inside. In its middle, engraved in sleek lettering, were coordinates and a cryptic message: JY1EA6UR5DD7I. Maya furrowed her brow, trying to decipher its meaning. Turning it over, she noticed gold lettering in the center spelling out: SOCIETY. The combination of the coordinates and the enigmatic word left her intrigued and slightly unnerved. What could it mean?

"No way! You got invited?" Riley's exclamation echoed down the end of the hallway, drawing disapproving glances from the passing students. Ignoring the reprimand from a surveillance officer, Maya turned to face the curious stares head-on in defiance.

"You know what it is?" Maya responded with genuine confusion. Society, it didn’t ring any bell. She had never heard of a hotel chain or clothing store of the name, nor had she seen anything remotely resembling. It was an odd thing to find in one’s locker.

"And you don't?" Riley asked, astonished by her friend's apparent lack of interest.

"Ladies!" Farkle greeted, strolling up to them with his schoolbooks tucked under his arm. His bright green graphic t-shirt stood out against the sea of muted colors in the hallway, and his light brown hair was neatly combed as usual. "What's all the excitement about? Our wedding?" he joked.

"Maya got invited to the Society," Riley announced solemnly, her hair falling flat on her shoulders as she left her eyes descent to her feet. Riley had chosen purple flats today, along with a purple dress and white tights ensemble. An adorable combination that would surely make a few heads turn in her direction; her mother had even found the time to braid a few strands with a yellow ribbon. Though, very few students would admit the girl had taste, when it came to fashion Riley had an eye for adorable.

"The Society?" Farkle's voice echoed down the bustling corridor, drawing the attention of nearby students. The vigilant surveillant cast a disapproving glance their way, prompting Farkle to lower his tone. "Sorry," he apologized sheepishly to the onlookers before turning back to his friends. "I thought it was just a legend," he whispered to Maya and Riley, his eyes wide with intrigue. A gleam of mischief was brightening his brown eyes.

"Me too," Riley murmured in agreement, her voice barely audible over the din of the passing students. A voice cut through the noise, catching Riley, and the gang off guard. A whiff of the familiar ocean scent spread around them. The girls turned, and Maya could almost hear Riley’s heart skipping a beat as she found Lucas standing behind her, his presence both unexpected and welcome.

"Hey," He greeted the gang.

"Hi," Riley responded, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness. Lucas’ own demeanor was slightly awkward as he waved in greeting. The elections had sort of reset their relationship to an uncomfortable beginning. With the new responsibilities of secretary on her shoulders, Riley was unsure how to treat the boy she so desperately wanted to date. The cowboy seemed to understand how the elections had shifted the dynamics within the gang and how his presidency had somehow hurt both Farkle and Riley. It wasn’t his duty to apologize or refrain from boasting about his incredible win, but Farkle was a rather competitive opponent, and Riley’s ego had taken a hit. Her friends hated being put back in their place. Another thing they had in common.

"Howdy," Maya chimed in with a mischievous grin, her playful tone laced with underlying amusement. Lucas chuckled, his eyes sparkling with an understanding that transcended words. In the last few days, Maya had doubled down on his mistreatment, finding new ways to annoy him, though it never seemed to reach him. The moment hung in the air, filled with tense silence.

"Got one too?" Farkle's voice cut through the tension, his body moving to reach Maya’s side to a distance that suffocated the blonde. How many times did she have to draw this line with her friend? Choosing not to comply, Maya took a step back. Lucas frowned, a curious expression flickering across his features. Maya found solace in the mundane of her locker, busying herself with organizing the photos Riley had printed for her. Each one a cherished memento of her favorite singers, carefully arranged amidst the black stripes of tape adorning the locker door. And not daring another look behind, an avoidable cock fighting. “This” Farkle shove the card to his face. Lucky for them, students had long stopped watching them.

"Yeah," Lucas confirmed, producing the same card from his pocket. Riley watched in disbelief as he displayed the magnetic piece. "I found it in my locker this morning. Is it important?"

Farkle launched into an explanation, his words tumbling out in a rush. "The Society is a secret club. To get in, you need to be invited, and only the most popular, coolest people get to participate in their initiations. Nobody knows who runs it or if it even exists." Riley's disappointed gaze following his words and her sad eyes prompted Maya to toss the card into the nearest garbage bin.

"What did you just do?" Farkle exclaimed in shock, his eyebrows shooting up. Lucas observed the scene with a hidden smile, while Riley's mouth formed an 'O' of surprise.

"Peaches! You can't just refuse their invitation," Riley protested. "They're always watching," she whispered anxiously.

"They can stare all they want. If you're not invited, I don't want any part of it," Maya declared firmly. She had already grown tired of the Society and its mysterious allure. The whole thing seemed ridiculous to her. Why bother befriending new people when the only two people she truly cared about were already standing by her side?

"I don't think you understand," Riley rushed to retrieve the magnetic card from the bin. "Getting invited by the Society," she whispered, "is a ticket to popularity."

Maya scoffed. "Popularity... I don't need it. Keep it, I don't want it," she insisted firmly. The blonde valued the simplicity of their friendship and had no interest in chasing after superficial status or fake friendships.

“You think they are going to accept me as one of them?” Riley’s eyes grew the size of melons. She wanted it with all of her heart. Deep in her heart, Maya knew how much Riley cared about other’s perceptions. The brunette was a sucker for these stories. Overrated and overly fake was all Maya associated with fame.

“Who’s to say” Maya wasn’t going to bow down or spend more time thinking about some lunatic group that considered themselves better than the rest. She was standing above it. Against it, if she were more precise.

8:00. Monday. September 23rd. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

Interestingly, whenever Maya expressed admiration for something or someone, Riley would echo her sentiments with enthusiastic praise. This pattern had occurred before, such as when Maya had mentioned finding Josh cute last year; Riley had quickly chimed in, declaring him irresistible. Maya understood that Riley wasn't intentionally copying her, but rather reinforcing their bond. However, the repetition could become tiresome at times.

Riley's parents had once approached her to discuss the behavior, expressing concern that Riley was easily influenced and placing a lot of trust in Maya to look out for her. It was a weighty responsibility for a then ten-year-old to bear. Along the way, there had been some missteps; Riley had occasionally overstepped boundaries. Maya forgave her, understanding that Riley always apologized and made amends. So, Maya didn't mind Riley's current preoccupation, even if it meant Riley wasn't paying much attention to her. What bothered Maya most was the boy seated across from her, sporting a cotton blue polo shirt with two white stripes on his shoulders.

As the brunette settled into the seat next to the cowboy in their first class of the day, she greeted him again with a simple "Hi," to which he responded in his usual shy manner. Meanwhile, Farkle took his seat beside the blonde and exaggeratedly mimicked the action of vomiting. "Are you alright?" he whispered, ensuring only she could hear him.

Farkle had a knack for understanding Maya's moods even better than Riley at times. He could sense whenever she wasn't quite herself, whether she was trying to hide it or not. He was, after all, her best friend—the one she could always count on. As she reflected, Maya couldn't shake the looming thought of yet another upcoming failure. This morning, they had to submit a paper that had been particularly hard to understand. If it hadn’t been for the 5G, Maya doubted she would have been able to start it at all. The prospect of facing another potential embarrassment weighed heavily on her mind. After a restless night, her thoughts were scattered, and she found it difficult to focus on anything else.

"Yeah, you?" Maya asked the brown-haired genius, returning the concern.

"Yeah," he replied, but Maya could tell by his tone that there was something bothering him too. However, with class about to start, they both shifted their focus. As the teacher arrived and the bell rang, they obediently opened their notebooks, ready to embark on a new lesson. Or in her case, humiliation.

10:32. Tuesday. September 24th. John Quincy Addams Middle School. 

The classroom hummed with the anticipation of impending freedom as the bell heralded a temporary reprieve from academic obligations. Amidst the chatter, Riley's voice pierced through the noise. "What are we going to do?" Her anxious eyes darted between her companions, seeking confirmation in their expressions. Her words carried a sense of uncertainty as she looked to her friends for guidance. Farkle, ever ready, chimed in confidently.

"I say we go." His demeanor exuded assurance, determination amidst the threat of mockery. His words lingered in the air; his declaration meant he was ready to face a storm in the hopes of finding refuge. Popularity was also something he sought after, as it was a gage of reconnaissance between his peers. Maya didn’t know what to make of her two friends trying their best to elevate their ranks in the school.

"You think they are going to make fun of us?" Riley's eyes sought reassurance from her friends. Maya remained resolute; she wasn’t risking ridicule nor encouraging her friends to follow their delusions. To her, their bond surpassed the superficialities of popularity, serving as an anchor amidst the currents of middle school politics, joining a secret club added nothing to their already busy lives.

"Undoubtedly," Farkle replied, his expression serious.

“I kind of wish…” Riley sighed, her gaze drifting to the bustling corridor outside their classroom. Maya didn’t share that unspoken sentiment. To her, their union was perfectly placed between the folds of social hierarchy. They didn’t need new people or a new status. “Are you guys not curious about this society business?” Riley’s brow furrowed.

“No” Maya replied casually, shrugging off the notion.

"Missy Bradfort is surely in," Riley's voice dripped with desperation as she spoke of the snake. Not caring for a second the answer her friend had voiced. In the last few days, Missy had been preying on Lucas during the breaks, her attempts to flirt evident as she touched him whenever the occasion presented itself. Despite Lucas's confession of allegiance weeks before, he seemed too charming to be tethered to just one group.

"She is winning," the brunette declared with a glare, her frustration palpable. "He probably doesn’t even like hanging out with us anymore," Riley muttered resignedly, her tone tinged with defeat. Farkle remained silent, unwilling to contradict her assessment.

"Who cares! Texas’ got nothing on us," Maya declared defiantly, her voice echoing with unwavering confidence, a stark contrast to Riley's rare pessimism.

"He is so dreamy…" Riley trailed off, her voice tinged with longing as she lost herself in her thoughts. "I want to be his princess."

"Do you now?" Maya challenged, her tone tinged with amusement, a hint of skepticism evident in her voice as she gauged Riley's sincerity. Her best friend was probably imagining a horse-riding ball gown in the sunset kind of scene, while Farkle was clenching his teeth trying to find a legal way to make the boy move back to Texas.

"Yes," Riley affirmed, her gaze distant as she remained lost in her fantasies of romance.

"Boys aren't worth it," The blonde declared, her voice carrying the weight of past disappointments. She had learned the hard way that they often lead to more trouble than they were worth, her father being the prime example of that.

"Hey!" Farkle interjected, feeling a sting of hurt beneath his usual facade of humor. Overlooked once again, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that Maya and Riley failed to acknowledge his own feelings. His heartache hidden behind a veil of playful banter and steadfast loyalty.

"My only exception…" Maya smiled, her gaze softening as she glanced at her friends with affection, allowing the boy to briefly take her hand. It was a fleeting moment of warmth. One she could bare for a few seconds only knowing how much it meant for him.

13:16. Tuesday. September 24th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

The trio walked to their next class, French. Sitting down beside her friend, Maya returned her attention to her notebook, as she immersed herself in her drawing. With each stroke of her pen, she brought a scene to life. Undulating lines resembling a rhythmic flow against a shore. The details danced across the page, capturing the essence of movement. Waves of ink coloring the paper, forming patterns of swirling currents and frothy crests. In that moment, the world around her faded away as she poured her heart and soul into her creation, a piece born from her memory.

As Maya delicately sketched, a voice crept over her shoulder, interrupting her focus. Riley and Farkle engaged in animated discussion about potential debate topics, but Maya's attention was drawn to Lucas, who had returned to their group, seemingly curious about her artwork. His presence sent a shiver down her spine, lingering longer than she anticipated, accompanied by the faint scent of his cologne, which enveloped her senses for a fleeting moment. Maya hummed softly, pausing to study her drawing once more. She had always been drawn to the freedom of expression in her artwork, reveling in the spontaneous twists and turns of her pen as it flowed across the page.

"Looks like a wave returning at the sea" Lucas observed, breaking her concentration.

"When did cowboys turn into artists?" Maya teased, her tone laced with humor, yet beneath it, a current of chills rippled like the waves of an immense ocean inside her stomach. As she locked eyes with him, she felt herself drawn into the depths of his cerulean gaze, where the sea of possibility seemed to stretch endlessly.

"I can't draw to save my life," he quipped back, his smile masking a hint of nervousness. A rarity in his care. His confidence around others was always so radiant, it was a wonder he hadn’t been promoted to team leader too. Maya cursed herself for noticing so many things about the light brown-haired boy, like the way his pinched his lips whenever concentration frowned his features, or his dimple showing when he was genuinely amused or happy.

"Nobody can draw better than her," Riley hyped her up. She never missed a chance to praise her friend. Maya’s cheeks lightly showed a hint of red. As her eyes tried to find a more secure point to fix, she noticed how many faces were turning their way. Students that loved feeding on angsty interactions or confessions of forbidden romances. Having so many eyes on her suddenly made her shy, especially when hers settled on a certain set of blues.

"Yeah, Maya is like a pro artist, I swear you could sell them," the evil genius prompted. Maya looked at the drawing again. She doubted anyone would want it. It was fine, just not good enough. For starters, the drawing wasn’t colored yet, and her technique lacked in some areas, she hadn’t finished the shading, and some waves were missing lines.

“I doubt people would want my art” she replied echoing her own hopeless thoughts.

“I would” Lucas said looking at her. His gaze lingered on her cheeks, causing a blush to spread across hers. Her art was always a sensitive topic, and his genuine interest caught her off guard. Not that, with the years, people hadn’t taken notice to her talent, but coming from him, another wave of chill ran through her.

"Sure, and you're going to put it next to your bull riding trophy, right?" she quipped, her tone light and teasing as she finished up a few touch ups in the right corner.

"Or on my nightstand..." Lucas played along, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Where you keep your cowboy hat," she retorted, taking the stereotype to its peak, her smile playful yet pointed.

"Exactly" He flashed his pearly whites, exuding an excess of confidence that grated on her nerves. She wanted to scream at his smug demeanor, it made her want to make him see, to make him understand that…she was worthy too. An annoying thought. One that was immediately shut down with another unpleasant reminder.

"Nah" she paused, gathering her thoughts, "I'm looking for a different kind of clientele. More refined." Maya inspected her nails, feigning nonchalance, though inside, she felt a knot tighten in her stomach as his smile widened. In the second following, a ray of sunshine streamed through the classroom window, casting a golden glow on his already perfect features. It highlighted his face like a statue, accentuating his charm and further emphasizing the unfairness of life. A reminder that the universe did have favorites.

"I could buy it from you if you'd like," Farkle chimed in, attempting to break the tension with a light-hearted offer.

"Evil entities are not my niche either," she quipped, her voice laced with playful sarcasm as she focused on blurring the lines of her drawing, determined to escape the discomfort of this conversation.

“What about your best friend Maya?” Riley's sudden enthusiasm surprised even herself, especially considering how reserved she usually was around Lucas. These past weeks, she'd been adopting a different persona whenever he was around, one that felt almost alien to her true self.

“Yeah, nan, I’mma keep them” Maya completed her drawing hastily. She refused to accept their pity or charity. She aspired to improve her skills, not to be relegated to the role of a failed artist whose work would end up collecting dust on a refrigerator door or, worse, forgotten in a locker.

They all shared a laugh and returned to their previous conversations, with Lucas now joining Riley's side in the debate discussion.  Maya playfully rolled her eyes and redirected her focus to another drawing. This time, she sketched long, fluttering lashes onto the paper. Not inspired by anything that was accidentally standing less than a few inches from her.

10:32. Wednesday. September 25th. John Quincy Addams Middle School. 

"Miss Hart."

A female voice called out, familiar yet stern. Barely awake, Maya blinked groggily, having dozed off during Mrs. Walker's lecture in English class. The teacher was passionately reciting lines from Shakespeare's *Romeo & Juliet*, urging her students to contribute to this year’s play. Mrs. Walker's persistence had become a fixture in their lives over the past few weeks.

“Detention,” the woman in her mid-forties announced, her voice cutting through the classroom's stillness. Mrs. Walker stood tall in her long, tight-fitting navy skirt, accentuated by a yellow ruffled blouse that added a touch of color to her otherwise severe appearance. Maya knew better than to protest; the risk of earning an additional hour in detention made it a futile effort.

Maya wasn't a stranger to detention. Last year, she had accumulated an impressive fifteen, nearly surpassing the records set by known rebels of previous years. Missing homework, forgotten signatures, and being caught sleeping in class had become routine for her. The various incidents throughout her school life had made her name synonymous with suspension and exclusion.

“But Mrs. Walker, Maya was only—” Farkle began, his voice filled with concern.

“Detention for you too, Mr. Minkus,” Mrs. Walker interrupted sharply. Farkle's usually rosy cheeks paled, his eyes widening in disbelief as he faced his first ever detention. Despite his previous attempts to defend classmates, it seemed Mrs. Walker's patience had worn thin this year.

“Mrs., Farkle was defending his friend. I don’t see why he—” Riley started, stepping in to support her friends, but she too was quickly silenced.

“Miss Matthews, detention for you too.” The teacher's stern look quelled any further rebellion. The classmates exchanged bewildered glances, questioning the sudden lack of empathy. Mrs. Walker, sensing their confusion, elaborated. “I will not have my students question my decisions. Miss Hart was sleeping through my class. Defending her only condones such behavior. This is not a matter open for discussion.” With that, she began writing their names on the “red corner” of the board.

“And so, your solution is to send everyone to detention?” Lucas challenged; his voice steady as he nearly spilled out of his desk with his large figure. Instantly, twenty pairs of eyes turned to him, the cowboy who dared to point out the flaw in Mrs. Walker's system.

Maya prayed for silence from the rest of the class. Experience had taught her that questioning authority often backfired, especially in front of everyone. Teachers, when challenged, often lashed out at the nearest target. She waited quietly, though a surge of courage flared within her as she watched Lucas stand up for them.

He was right. Mrs. Walker was wrong. Maya had indeed fallen asleep, but a simple warning would have sufficed.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she watched the confrontation. Lucas's defiance, partly to shield her from the teacher's wrath, filled her with a mix of admiration and anxiety.

“Yes, Mr. Friar,” Mrs. Walker replied, her tone icy. “I will not tolerate troublemakers, nor will I allow complicity. Maya Hart has repeatedly slept through my class and deserves detention. Farkle and Riley do not have the authority to question my rules. They need a reminder, and detention should suffice. Since you sympathize with them, you can join them this Thursday.”

Lucas's smile faded, replaced by an angered, intense look. His usual sunny demeanor darkened, his blue eyes stormy and unrecognizable for a moment.

“If that’s how it’s done here at John Quincy Addams, I’ll comply,” he said, his voice steady yet simmering with emotion, while his jaw tightened. “But giving detention for criticism is not educating; it's an abusive and disgusting misuse of authority.”

His final words resonated through the room. The class held their breath, awaiting Mrs. Walker's reaction. Her voice, dripping with superiority, broke the silence.

“I think a visit to the principal is more suitable for you, Mr. Friar. Until I receive a letter of apology, you will not be attending this class.”

The class exhaled in shock, expecting Lucas to retaliate. But to everyone's surprise, another voice joined the fray, one that hadn’t planned to speak up so distinctly.

“Bullshit” Maya’s tone didn't falter as she continued, “Nobody deserved detention here, except me. Bench me all you want, but he only spoke the truth.” She had had enough of standing silently by, watching someone else fight her battle. Lucas had ignited a spark in her, one that demanded she defend him in return.

“She is right, Mrs. Walker,” another student called out, and then another, and another, until half the class sided with the group, pleading for the teacher to reconsider the detentions. Students who had never seemed to care before now looked betrayed and enraged by the teacher's lack of proper reasoning.

Mrs. Walker shook her head, trying to hide her growing confusion among the fired-up students. Feeling insulted, she rushed to the microphone on the wall and shut down all protests with a loud shout: “That’s it. I am reporting all of you to the principal.”

Chapter Text

10:47. Wednesday. September 25th. John Quincy Addams Middle School. 

The anxiety in the room was palpable as the students watched nervously. Mr. Fraser, the principal, was entering Mrs. Walker’s classroom. The faces of a third of the students fell with guilt, disappointment, and anticipation. All but one girl’s outlook. Hope shone through Riley’s fierce gaze. All was not lost; their gang could still prove their innocence and end Mrs. Walker’s reign over the frightened students. However, resignation echoed in the depths of the room, as signs of defeat, impatience, and annoyance painted the faces of classmates.

Farkle drummed his leg, anticipating the coming seconds, cursing himself for not standing proud and strong to defend his friends like Lucas had. This wasn’t the cowboy’s battle, but his own. As Maya’s longest-standing friend along with Riley, he should have done more. He cursed his intellect for escaping him when he needed a quick comeback. How could they defeat a system designed to ensure their downfall? Trapped in his own mind, his eyes were hidden behind a thick veil of self-doubt. Was trying even worth a try?

Maya wasn’t surprised by the sour expression Mr. Fraser wore. Standing up for oneself wasn’t common in these halls, and defying the order was even rarer. It had been unexpected. Still lost in her thoughts on why her fight mode had been activated so quickly, Maya allowed herself one look towards the cowboy. His eyes stared straight ahead, unmoving, unbothered, and somehow unhinged. Had Lucas somehow deciphered the way to make her stand up?

Her eyes diverted to the gloating on Mrs. Walker’s face. It wasn’t a stretch to say she knew, in that instant, the following minutes were going to thoroughly suck.

She was beyond fucked.

Maya hadn’t expected today of all days for a revolt, nor did she expect the new boy to lead the way. John Quincy Addams Middle School was usually a quiet place, with its neatly trimmed lawns and towering trees. But today, chaos reigned within its red brick walls. Heehaw, the school's newly appointed president, had great political influence, so much so that even a rebel like Maya chose to rally behind him. Or rather...was it Maya who had convinced Lucas to fight for her lost cause?

Her mind was a whirlwind of questions. On one hand, Lucas represented all students, standing as a barrier between them and the oppressive teachers and administration. He was a natural leader who valued justice, equity, and strength. How, then, did he choose to defend her when she had clearly been in the wrong? It was unfair for him to get punished, along with her friends and the entire class, who had only tried to save her from her own doing.

She had fallen asleep, solidifying the ruthlessness and unfairness of existing in a world made for rich kids, intelligent beings, and rule-abiders. Maya was none of these. In this world, she was nothing. Friendship had been her saving grace; she had held on to it desperately, like the last door on a wrecked ship. But just like Jack, she was bound to sink into the depths of the freezing cold ocean.

“I have come here to speak to all of you about the disrespect you have each demonstrated to an esteemed member of our school,” Principal Fraser's voice echoed through the four walls. The gang shared similar looks, anticipating the horror of the speech that was bound to follow. In a matter of seconds, Riley’s smile faltered into a thin line barely stretching across her features.

“As students at John Quincy Addams Middle School, you ought to respect your teachers and the code of conduct. Your class has been deemed problematic and uncooperative. Hence, I have chosen, along with Mrs. Walker, to send all of you to detention to reflect on your actions. You will also be asked to participate in this year’s play to show you can abide by Mrs. Walker’s teachings. Know that I am disappointed with each one of you. What you displayed was not a show of courage but rather a blatant show of disrespect. You have greatly hurt your teacher by doubting her skills and her judgment.”

Mrs. Walker stood by the door, nodding at each word, feigning her disappointment. Once again, it was clear the system was rigged against the students. She hadn’t been thoroughly questioned; the principal had taken her version as sacred. To this, Maya rolled her eyes.

“I also demand to meet the following students in my office for the remainder of this class: Mr. Lucas Friar, Miss Maya Hart, Miss Riley Matthews, and Mr. Farkle Minkus. I will ask you to join me in the corridor. As for the rest of you, Mrs. Walker will resume class shortly.”

The gang rose in unison, joining the principal on the walk to the administration office. From their seats to the corridor, they walked to the end of the hallway, their footsteps echoing in the empty halls. Checking in on her friends, Maya noticed Riley’s flushed cheeks and Farkle’s silence, both certainly shaken by the sudden call and its repercussions.

“It’s all wrong,” Riley mouthed as she hugged Maya on the way. “I thought I was helping. I’m sorry.”

“Mrs. Walker is−” Farkle didn’t finish his sentence, as if too scared to voice it.

But by far, the one who had taken this the hardest was Lucas. Riley and Farkle had quickened their pace, as if they wanted all this to end quickly, while the cowboy dragged his feet. At a snail’s pace, he trudged down the hallway behind the trio, not daring to utter a word.

“Thank you, Huckleberry,” Maya breathed as he raised his head. His look somewhat warmed up, but his hands clutched to his sides, indicating he was still fighting the urge to punch the unfair teacher. Or rather, it seemed like he was trying to hold back his anger.

The gang sat in the waiting area by the administration counter and secretaries’ desks, waiting for the principal to open his door to them. Lucas finally spoke.

“Will you still talk to me if I ever get suspended?” His eyes were fixed on an empty chair, lost in his doubts.

A strange feeling crept into Maya’s chest as she tried to imagine what his words hid. Did he regret fighting for her? Would he get expelled? Was this the last time they would talk? An unknown tightening gripped her chest as the blonde passed through thousands of scenarios: Lucas going away, Lucas ignoring her, Lucas leaving them. It all seemed just as plausible as revolting against an English teacher on a Wednesday.

“Of course we will!” Riley answered without a hint of doubt. “Nothing will keep us away from you. You’re our friend.” Her genuine words barely scratched the surface of the immense pool of emotions the brunette felt whenever the boy was around.

“We are in this together.” Farkle put his hand behind Lucas’ back, gently comforting him. The cowboy’s figure softened as his eyes diverted to the girls.

Maya’s throat refused to collaborate. As she breathed in, the idea of leaving him behind left a sour taste in her mouth. She nodded in agreement with her best friend’s words, hoping the boy wasn’t asking her to voice her attachment.

She had grown to like Lucas in a frenemies kind of affection. The kind where she both wanted to smack him and hug him. He was made of steel, basked in Aphrodite’s charm, and possessed wits to save a country. A killing combination that even the coldest of hearts warmed up to his presence. He was the sun, and she was bound to follow his lead, trapped in his gravitational pull.

The creaking of the principal’s door closed their heartfelt conversation.

“May I please see Mr. Farkle Minkus first?” Principal Fraser's stern voice interrupted their staring contest. The color drained from Riley’s face as she grappled with the idea of punishment for the first time in her middle school career. Farkle’s sudden confidence dropped as he turned the corner to join the office for his difficult conversation.

As the door closed behind his indigo graphic t-shirt, Riley muttered under her breath, her anxiety rising. Chewing on her nails, she nervously checked around the premises.

“My parents are going to kill me,” Her eyes were diverting from their position to the office.

“They won’t,” Maya reassured her. Pulling her hand away from her mouth, Topanga had told the girl off the habit hundreds of times, and as a best friend, Maya’s duty was also to listen to her friend’s limitations. Riley’s parents were the good kind, the type to encourage their daughter to advocate for causes that mean something to her. They would also be understanding of her undying loyalty for Maya. The real one that was to blame, was the blonde herself. She had let her friends take her defense, and was the one caught. She should have tried harder to keep her eyes open, to listen to Mrs. Walker’s warning more carefully. So many things wouldn’t have gone wrong then.

Their class was getting detention and had been obliged to participate to the school’s play. Her reputation was bound to falter, as people might have discerned a weakness today. She could only do so much before people realized her whole schtick was fake. She wasn’t as fierce, as brave, as rebel, as cruel, or nasty, or even as dangerous as people thought. She was just a girl.

Riley looked bitterly at the ground. “You think? As if they would want anything other than perfect grades and perfect behavior. My dad works here, remember?” Some people had it easier, other had struggles Maya couldn’t even imagine. As much as Riley’s family life looked like for Maya, everyone had their own challenges.

While her words were true, Topanga and Corey Matthews did project on Riley. To become a model, a good person, a caring, intelligent, empathetic, giving, and so many more attributes they seemed to embody; and while, to the pair it seemed effortless, Riley struggled to understand which came naturally, and which were forced by a series of great expectations.

“You did nothing wrong. You stood up for me. I’m your best friend. What did they expect?” Maya let a shy smirk paint her lips, as she recalled other times the parents had sort of regretted their friendship. Maybe today was the last straw? Doubt crept in her mind, until her eyes found blue ones staring back. Lucas was observing the pair, with concern, his elbows cropped on his lap, he was ready to stand up any time. Was his fight instinct always on? Maya wondered.

“I know, but it still sucks.” Riley’s eyes rolled to the ground, along with her shoulders. She was defeated. Maya wished there was something she could do to uplift the morale, but with Farkle gone, hope was running dry in their seats.

“Your dad looks nice enough. I’m sure he’ll understand.” Lucas delivered those reassuring words with an unwavering look and a flat tone. His posture had straightened up as an arrow, his fists clenched, he seemed a thousand of kilometers away.

“Are you okay, Lucas?” Riley asked as if scared to poke the bear. There was uncertainty in her voice. The girls had never seen Lucas this way. He lacked his usual charisma, replaced with a loud silence and cold exterior.

He was becoming a statue of strength before their eyes. Maya couldn’t help but wonder what had specifically triggered this. A part of her couldn’t refute the following, Lucas looked especially good with fury in his eyes. Gone were his sweet words, and softness, right this second, a knife couldn’t cut his skin, a gun wouldn’t pierce, and words shouldn’t reach.

“I’m fine.” His teeth clenching and annoyed expression betrayed his words. A disturbed Lucas was not to be mess with. Hurt, Riley secured her arms around herself.

“You don’t look fine.” The brunette whispered with concern etched on her face.

“I just need a minute.” With no explanation, he turned his head to the blank wall, and sighed. In a matter of seconds, the mood changed in the seating section. The knife had dropped, and waiting was their only escape.

Farkle had been gone for a good ten minutes now, before Maya dared break the silence. “Who wants to nap while we wait?” she joked, as she watched her two friends have completely opposite reactions. The boy snickered, while Riley rigorously shook her head in disapproval.

“No more napping here ever!” She claimed, “How come you got caught Maya?”

“I wasn’t planning on falling asleep.” The blonde robotically answered.

The truth was not for Riley’s innocent ears. Maya never wanted for her friend to have to worry the same way she did. The reason the blonde had dozed off that morning had been caused by a series of unfortunate events the day before. Baby Lila, her neighbor’s youngest had gotten the flu, and as a single mother with three kids, she had asked for Maya’s mom help to babysit. Well, rather Maya had agreed to check the kids while her mom had gone to work. Three-year-old twins, Simon and Mateo had been tireless, and with their mother and sister gone, particularly anxious. They had refused to go to sleep until Miss Rodriguez came back, only it took several hours before the pair showed at the front door of their teared down apartment. Maya had tried the soft and hard way to make them listen, but they hadn’t bulged. Worried for their mother and intimidated by the unknown, she had tried comforting them with little to no luck. Joining Riley that morning, she had cumulated a good two-hour sleep before heading to class. Her naturally sleepy eyes had trouble focusing on interesting material most days, but with classes as boring as Mrs. Walker’s, it had been inevitable.

“I could get you a cup of coffee before class if it can help.” Riley suggested, out of friendship duty.

Maya couldn’t accept. The night before had been a special occasion, and she wasn’t a particular fan of the taste. Though she hadn’t minded it when mixed with sweet syrups and a mountain of whipped cream.

“Where would you get it?” The blonde asked, to gently show Riley how ridiculous her suggestion truly was. As it stood, Topanga and Corey didn’t want their daughter anywhere near their high-tech coffee machine. The brunette was naturally excitable and had plenty of energy in the morning to keep up with the rhythm of class. And with the wreckage of their last coffee maker because of Riley’s very thoughtful “wanting to help out”, the coffee bar had become a “Riley-free” zone.

“I’d make it at home early in the morning and keep it in a thermos.” Riley added the detail in her grand master plan to save Maya from herself.

“Sure, and your parents wouldn’t ask questions when you come back with a thermos in your bag?” Maya was flattered that her friend was ready to take that risk, but with her parents tolerating their friendship already, it seemed like a big ask for very little reward. Maya would find a way, surely. Either by accepting the detentions coming her way, or by taping her eyes open in the next English class.

“They would, but my mom loves you, so I think she’d let it slide.” Riley voiced out loud. “She might make it herself!”

Maya wasn’t going to ask Topanga to make her coffee every morning just because Mrs. Walker couldn’t teach interesting material. She wasn’t going to ask her friend to hide a thermos from her parents either.

“You could just sleep better at night,” Lucas’ voice broke the friend’s back and forth.

With an annoyed look, Maya felt her words come out before she could think.

“Thanks, cowboy but I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

She had cut him off. Why did his suggestion feel like a sort of betrayal coming from him? Of course, she’d sleep better at night if she could help it. But sometimes, things happened. She wasn’t going to justify, nor was she going to defend herself. Lucas wasn’t doing well and was probably scared of the principal’s meeting. But a nagging feeling, chanted in the back of her mind, that he knew something was up.

“What happened last night?” His eyes searched for an explanation in her stance. He wasn’t bulging.

“Nothing.” Maya had no obligation to justify her actions, especially not in front of him.

“Why were you feeling sleepy then?” An arrogance layered his words, like he knew she was hiding behind her false empty words.

“No particular reason.” She left out, ready for the door of the office to open and save her from this uncomfortable feeling.

He puffed, like he had calculated she wasn’t going to say anything from the start, like he knew better. “You love keeping things to yourself, like you’re saving us from knowing. You haven’t wondered if that’s exactly what you need to get better?”

His accusation hit a sensitive nerve; Maya had been hiding things exactly for this reason. Was she this easy to read? How had he guessed? Her cheeks flushed a red color, as she felt humiliation from his accusation. Get better? He really thought that burying them under the boulder of her life was going to make her lighter? Maybe, but it also meant exposing truths she wasn’t ready to uncover. Her life wasn’t a sit-com, happy endings were not signed on the contract, quite the contrary even. She was fucked from the start, abandoned, lonely, and poor. Talking about her worries was not going to solve them, and it would not give her anything but pity, and sorrow. Not only that but, it would shed a light on matters too harsh for innocent eyes.

Plus, who was he to judge her? Lucas the good, that façade… the boy was as wicked as her, and just as much of a liar. His unknown past and shady behavior today were only strengthening that belief.

“Oh, I am the secretive one? ‘Cause you’re so much better than I?” Maya’s punctuated her last words, with a head-on attitude. If he wanted to open that file, they were going to, but until then, he had no right to judge her.

Another silence engulfed their group, until the doomed moment when Farkle stepped out of the office, with Principal Fraser directing him. “He wants to see Riley next.” His apologetic stare moved to the exit door with lanky arms. “I’m sorry, guys I can’t stay, he demanded I join class immediately.”

Ashamed, Farkle avoided their gazes as he joined the corridor to Mrs. Walker’s class. Riley’s nervous frame was engulfed the next second by the large door to the principal’s office.

Another silence settled in as the two heads waited for their turn in Principal Fraser’s office. Lucas and Maya had averted their eyes to the much interesting blank wall, hoping the minutes would pass. The silence had been welcomed in Maya’s case, as she still felt a sting from Lucas’ earlier comment. The boy had a way to get to her. Like an express train to her heart city, and mindless thoughts. The mood weighted on her, another thing to add to the list of things she did wrong.

“Look, I know it’s not always easy to admit things… And whatever the reason is for not getting any sleep last night…if I can do anything to help, let me know.” His tone was genuine, melting his gaze, Maya found herself lost in the sea of his eyes.

He seemed regretful, like he was slowly but surely diffusing a bomb, he softened his features, as a real smile etched on his mouth. Maya watched as his words hung in the air. Unsure what to say next. Maybe they didn’t need more words. Only, Maya realized too late, that this was probably the last time they were going to talk. As minutes passed like seconds, and realization of her sitting for another doomed conversation.

When Riley’s trembling voice called out after what felt like mere seconds, “Lucas, you’re next.” Maya knew without a doubt, that the wave Lucas had gestured before entering the office, was not the typical see you later, but a: goodbye. Without another word, he got inside. Leaving Maya behind.

Thinking back on the words said in class, on the things she knew of the boy, it wasn’t hard to conclude… Lucas was in big trouble, maybe more than she ever was. And with his concealed past, there was only one reason why the boy had seemed so off these few minutes. He had nothing left to lose anymore. And that only meant one thing.

Lucas was getting expelled.

Chapter Text

11:29. Wednesday. September 25th. John Quincy Addams Middle School. Administration offices.

It took only a moment for Maya to steel herself and devise a plan. Her heart pounded in her chest as she rushed to the door, gripping the cold, brass heavy doorknob. She flung it open with the urgency of a siren, stepping into the room determined. Inside, Mr. Fraser stood behind his cluttered, timeworn desk, his brow furrowed in frustration. Beside him, Lucas looked startled, caught off guard by the sudden interruption. A haphazard stack of papers threatened to spill across the old wooden surface, the chaos a stark contrast to the usually meticulously arranged space.

"Mr. Fraser, it’s all my fault, I swear!" Maya’s voice rang out, reverberating off the four walls, each adorned with antique portraits and heavy tapestries that seemed to watch over them with silent judgment. "Lucas was only defending me against Mrs. Walker. Please, you have to understand."

Mr. Fraser’s stern gaze bore into her, unmoved. "Miss Hart," he began, his tone clipped and authoritative, "bursting into my office unannounced and interrupting a private discussion between myself and Mr. Friar does not grant you the authority to dictate the consequences of his actions—actions that, I might add, provoked a disruption in class."

Maya swallowed hard, her throat dry. Hope vanished from her traits. "I’m sorry, Mr. Fraser. I know I was wrong to fall asleep in class, and Mrs. Walker had every right to punish me. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, but... I couldn’t just stand by and let Lucas take the fall. He was only acting because I asked him to. It’s on me, not him."

"You asked Mr. Friar to defend you and rally the students against a teacher?" Mr. Fraser’s voice cut through the air, sharp and incredulous. And for a moment, time stopped, leaving Maya only but one choice. Lie, lie and lie until her friend was saved.

"I forced him into it," Maya admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "I knew Lucas had influence because of his position as class president, and I played on that. I told him he needed to stand up for me if he didn’t want the other students to think he was against them. I was just messing with him, trying to see how far I could push it, and he took the bait. He wasn’t trying to cause trouble, I swear. He was only trying to save face and keep his credibility."

Mr. Fraser’s eyes narrowed. "Miss Hart, Mr. Friar was elected class president by a large margin. Why would the students turn on him so easily?"

"Mr. Fraser, it was all a joke," Maya said, her voice growing softer, almost pleading. "A stupid joke that went too far."

Mr. Fraser leaned back in his chair; skepticism etched on his face. "Why do I have trouble believing you now, Miss Hart? Is this just another one of your practical jokes?"

"No, sir," Maya insisted, her tone more desperate. "I swear, I’m the one to blame for Lucas’s behavior earlier. It’s my fault, not his."

The lies slipped from her tongue with surprising ease, each one building on the last.

"This situation has spiraled out of control, Miss Hart," Mr. Fraser said, his frustration evident. "Why must you make my job so difficult?"

Maya lowered her gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’m sorry, sir."

"As for you, Mr. Friar," Mr. Fraser continued, his voice carrying a note of stern finality, "you will also be required to compose and recite an apology letter before being allowed back into Mrs. Walker’s class. I’d expect better judgment from someone of your age."

Lucas nodded solemnly, as though the statement had struck a chord within him. But Maya couldn’t help the flicker of confusion that crossed her mind. What age? she wondered. Was Lucas not thirteen, like the rest of them? Or had she misunderstood something? Could he be younger? Older?

Mr. Fraser’s gaze lingered on Lucas for a moment longer, then he added, "Oh, and one more thing before you go, Mr. Friar. I suggest you consider broadening your circle of friends and focusing your energy on advocating for causes that truly benefit the student body. This is your only warning. Next time, I won’t be as lenient."

"I understand," Lucas replied, his voice subdued.

"Good. You may leave."

With a simple nod towards the pile of paperwork on his desk, Mr. Fraser dismissed them, the gesture as swift and final as a judge’s gavel. The room was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the sound of Mr. Fraser tutting and clicking his tongue, his frustration palpable as he returned to the chaos of papers sprawled across his desk.

"Mrs. Hart."

Maya lifted her head, meeting the steely gaze of her principal. She braced herself for what felt like the end.

"I don’t know what to do with you," Mr. Fraser admitted, his tone carrying a mix of exasperation and resignation.

The blonde’s lips pressed into a thin line. She realized that she might have pushed herself into deeper trouble than she had intended, but there was no turning back now. Their relationship had always been fraught, built on a foundation of mutual distrust. From the beginning, Mr. Fraser had viewed her as a troublemaker, someone who didn’t belong. He had always seemed eager to find a reason to remove her, as though her very presence was a disruption to the order he so carefully maintained.

"I’m at my wit’s end with your case," Mr. Fraser continued, his eyes narrowing. "I can’t expel you without losing one of my most esteemed teachers and council members. But this is getting out of hand."

Maya’s heart sank as she listened to him recount the many times she had ended up in his office, each incident piling up like evidence against her. "I told Mr. Matthews this year, ‘If you can’t make her behave, I will.’ And yet, here we are. Detentions, suspensions, parent meetings—none of it has made a difference. What’s next, Mrs. Hart?"

"I don’t know," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"It seems I don’t know either," Mr. Fraser said, his frustration evident. "It’s time for something more permanent. I’ll be discussing your case with Mr. Matthews, and I’ll be calling your mother tonight."

A wave of dread washed over Maya. Her eyes stung with the threat of tears, her throat constricting as the weight of her situation settled in. Images of a bleak future flashed before her eyes—running the streets of New York, stealing to survive, facing a life filled with fear, failure, and uncertainty. School, with all its familiar faces and routines, would be nothing but a distant memory. Gone were the days of joking with Farkle and Riley or the safety of John Quincy Adams. In their place would be a harsh reality she wasn’t sure she could face.

Where had it all begun? she wondered. The first time she was labeled as a lost cause? How had she squandered every chance given to her? She could almost feel the word failure etched across her forehead, as though it were her inevitable fate.

But as she tightened her grip on the frayed edges of her fishnet tights, something inside her refused to give in completely. If she was going to be sent away, it would be with all her cards on the table. She would face whatever was coming with honesty, no matter how much it hurt. Maybe, just maybe, there was a sliver of hope left—some chance of mercy in the midst of it all.

The end seemed near, but at least she had tried. Spilling her guts to a principal was more intimidating than she had imagined, but there was no point in hiding any longer.

"Mr. Fraser," Maya began, her voice quivering slightly as she paused, gathering the strength to continue. "I fell asleep today because..." Maya began, her voice faltering as she sat on the edge of her seat. She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Mr. Fraser’s indifferent gaze. He barely glanced at her, his expression as unreadable as ever, as if she wasn’t worth more than a fleeting moment of his time.

Seconds ticked by in agonizing silence, the courage that had driven her to speak wavering in the face of his apathy. She could feel the words slipping away, but then, just as Mr. Fraser opened his mouth to dismiss her, she found her voice again.

"My mother had to leave for work, and my neighbor’s newborn fell ill," she continued, her tone growing steadier. "They needed help, so I had to babysit."

Mr. Fraser raised an eyebrow, finally giving her his full attention. "How long did you sleep?"

"Two hours," she admitted, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

"And you managed to wake up?" he asked, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice as he chuckled softly.

"I had to," she replied, the determination in her voice undeniable.

Mr. Fraser sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I understand this isn’t an ideal situation, and despite what you might think, I’m not heartless.” He took another breath, and finally let out: “Another detention should suffice for now, but I’ll still be discussing this matter with Mr. Matthews."

Relief washed over Maya, knots of anxious images flashing right back to the pile of later, a temporary relief tinged with the guilt of the lies she had just woven for the sake of Lucas and the many half-truths burdening her young shoulders. "Thank you, sir."

"Now go," Mr. Fraser said, waving her off. "Lunchtime is just around the corner."

"Yes! Thank you, sir!" Maya echoed; her voice more enthusiastic as she hurried out of the office.

As she stepped into the hallway, a sense of relief mixed with the heavy burden of yet another dept she had to repay. But as she rounded the corner to her locker, her heart lifted at the sight of the boy she thought she had lost only minutes ago. Lucas was there, waiting for her, his expression was a mix of concern and smoldering rage, freezing his features into an impenetrable mask. Stopping in her tracks, Maya could sense the predator lurking just beneath the surface. The tension in the air was palpable, and she knew Lucas was ready to confront her.

"You lied," he said, his voice low and barely controlled.

"I did," she admitted, her eyes not leaving his icy ones.

"You put yourself in danger to save me." His tone wasn’t one of gratitude or relief, but rather a simmering anger that made her stomach twist. "Never again," he added, the words sharp and final. "If I mess up, let me deal with the consequences."

"I saved you from expulsion, cowboy," Maya shot back, trying to lighten the mood with the nickname. "The least you could do is thank me."

But Lucas wasn’t having it. "No, I won’t. You recklessly put yourself in a worse situation than I ever could have imagined," he snapped, his frustration evident. "Damn it, Maya!"

She raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips. "Cursing? And here I thought you were the good influence."

"Maya," he muttered, his voice losing some of its edge.

"Yeah?"

"Don’t ever take the blame for me again," he said, his tone more pleading than before. "I can handle my own shit."

"Can you, though?" she challenged, her eyes narrowing.

"Better than you think," he replied, his gaze steady and unyielding.

Maya felt the weight of his words settle deep within her, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. Her breath hitched slightly, the intensity of the moment leaving her tongue-tied.

As he turned to leave, Lucas suddenly punched a nearby locker with force, enough to leave a dent in the metal. The loud clang echoed through the hallway, a sharp reminder of the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior.

Yet, somehow, Maya couldn’t shake the feeling that his anger wasn’t directed at her but at himself. Was Lucas wrestling with guilt or frustration over something deeper? One thing was certain: those who saw Lucas as a flawless leader had never encountered this side of him—the side that simmered with a chaotic, self-directed fury.

And right then, something stirred within Maya, a strange sensation that curled around her insides and made her heart race. It was a feeling she couldn’t quite name, something that caught in her throat and silenced her words. But one thing was for sure—this feeling was far from fear.

11:53. Wednesday. September 25th. John Quincy Addams Middle School. Cafeteria.

Settling into their routine after such a catastrophic event had been hectic, to say the least. Students bombarded Maya with questions, eager to know every detail of the incident and to hear from her friends. The gang had become the new celebrities of the school—a prime topic for gossip. Even Missy, who usually ignored them, had deigned to throw a glance in their direction.

Maya had become the hot topic of the moment, and she couldn’t have wished for something more opposite. It was a nightmare—being talked about, watched, and noticed. While she hated the idea of being touched, pried, and analyzed, Riley, on the other hand, basked in the attention, answering every single question with her usual charm, making new connections along the way. Meanwhile, Farkle shielded the brunette from any misdirected comments, skillfully redirecting the focus with a new narrative each time. He was just as captivated by their newfound status, his ego boosted by the constant curiosity and the inevitable question: Why hadn’t people loved them sooner?

While Lucas hadn’t shown his face since their confrontation, Maya knew it was only a matter of time before the cowboy would receive his own round of applause—the savior’s medal, a trophy of good deeds. Students were both appalled and intrigued; things like that weren’t the norm. Maya feared this gossip session would only fuel more unrest, maybe even spark a full-on student revolt.

“Is it true that Miss Walker slapped you awake?” Lauren asked as she joined Maya in the cafeteria, her voice cutting through the din of curious chatter. The curly head was in another class now but had shared theirs last year. She and Maya had worked on a few group projects together, though they’d never really been close.

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Maya warned, grabbing a tray. But Lauren was persistent and followed her to the line.

“And that Lucas cursed her away?” she added.

“Where do you get your info?” Maya asked, marveling at how quickly the rumors had spread—faster than wildfire, with even less decorum.

“Yogi,” Lauren replied pointing to the small guy currently chatting with the popular kids.

A smile tugged at the corners of Maya's lips. Yogi had been there during the scene, but he'd used his fifteen minutes of fame to "adjust" the story. Well, she couldn’t really blame him. It was kind of fun to mess with reality now and then.

Maya ignored Lauren and focused on piling her tray with snacks and food, her stomach growling in protest after all the morning's drama. As she rejoined her usual table, she overheard Riley gushing about Lucas.

“You saw, right? Lucas is so romantic. He protected all of us from Mrs. Walker. How mighty and brave he is,” Riley finished, her eyes dreamy and her heart likely pounding. Maya picked at her food, internally grumbling about how quickly the meal had gone cold.

Farkle rolled his eyes at the declaration of love. “Yes, we were lucky—detention and the play is all we got stuck with. It’s going to permanently scar our student files,” he remarked, his tone dry.

While his words were meant to be light-hearted, they dug into Maya’s insecurities. It was her fault; she had been the one to incite everyone to revolt. And worse, she hadn’t been honest with her friends from the beginning. They deserved the truth, an explanation. Hiding behind her walls would only push them further away, leaving her alone with nothing but lies.

“Maya!” Riley’s voice sliced through her spiraling thoughts, jolting her back to the present. She hadn't even noticed her standing beside her, concern evident in her eyes.

Before Maya could respond, Farkle interjected, a hint of excitement in his voice as he reached into his back pocket. “Hey, I almost forgot to tell you girls,” he said, pausing dramatically as he pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper. “I uncovered the mystery behind the society card’s cryptic message.”

Maya, her curiosity piqued, paused mid-bite, mashing her veggies absentmindedly while Riley’s eyes lit up with excitement, metaphorically bouncing in her seat.

“What’s the solution?” Riley urged, practically vibrating with anticipation.

Farkle straightened up, clearly enjoying the attention, and began his explanation. “So, if you look at the capital letters, they spell out the word ‘Jeudi.’ And the lowercase letters spell ‘Yard.’ I wasn’t sure about the numbers at first, but then I realized—since this is only for middle schoolers—it’s likely indicating a time: 16:57.”

He spread the paper on the table, pointing to the carefully arranged letters and numbers, written out in his characteristic neat but slightly quirky handwriting.

Jy1Ea6Ur5dD7I =J-E-U-D-I- y-a-r-d 1-6-5-7

“Farkle, I could kiss you!” Riley exclaimed, her voice bursting with cheerfulness.

“Do it,” Farkle shot back with a mischievous grin, leaning in slightly as if daring her to follow through.

Without missing a beat, Riley playfully smacked his arm away, rolling her eyes. Though the smile on her face betrayed her amusement.

Before the banter could continue, Farkle added, his tone more serious. “Alright, so here’s the thing—we can’t actually go. It’s tomorrow, and we’re officially on detention.” The reality of their situation brought a momentary pause, the weight of Farkle’s words sinking in.

A sour taste seemed to linger in the air, dampening their earlier enthusiasm. The realization that their excitement was for nothing, but only for a moment. Then, as if on cue, the absurdity of it all—how close they had been to solving the mystery only to be thwarted by their own actions—cracked through their disappointment. One by one, they began to chuckle, the sound building until it erupted into a full-blown fit of laughter.

Maya, Riley, and Farkle found themselves caught in the hilarity of the situation, their laughter echoing through the cafeteria. It was a release of the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface, a moment of pure bliss that reminded them why they stuck together as a tightly held unit.

The "Moral Compass" as some had started to call him, Lucas, sat down next to Farkle with an incredulous expression. The sour mood and aggressive demeanor he'd worn earlier were gone, replaced by his usual calm, almost serene, exterior. It seemed that Lucas had managed to cool down, slipping back into the role of the perfect, untouchable golden boy that everyone expected him to be.

Maya hadn’t noticed his entrance, too lost in her own laughs, but now she became aware of the way the other students were glancing their way, like they were waiting for Lucas to command their next move. It was as if his mere presence had cast a spell over the room. No one dared to approach him, too intimidated to ask him anything, yet they all looked up to him as if he were a savior—someone to be respected and revered. His reputation had only grown larger, it seemed.

“What’s this about?” Lucas asked, his voice breaking through the murmurs around them.

“Farkle cracked the code, and it just so happens that we’re already booked for that day,” Riley quickly answered, her tone casual but laced with a hint of disappointment.

A faint smile crept across Lucas’s face as understanding dawned on him. His expression softened, and for a moment, he looked genuinely relieved. “Good, because I wasn’t planning on joining them anyway,” he said, his voice carrying an honesty that struck a chord with Maya.

She couldn’t resist teasing him, leaning in close with a playful smirk. “Why, cowboy? Scared you’ll like them too much?”

Lucas didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned in closer to meet her gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as they locked onto hers. His voice was steady, almost challenging, as he replied, “I don’t need to prove anything to anyone.” His words hung in the air, and Maya could see in his eyes what he was really saying: I don’t need protection.

And in that moment, Maya understood. Despite the almost god-like status that had been thrust upon him, Lucas genuinely didn’t care about the opinions of others. What mattered to him was how he viewed himself, his own sense of integrity and self-worth. It was refreshing, and for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, this realization caused a warmth to bloom in her cheeks. She quickly retracted, pulling away from his personal space, her playful demeanor faltering for just a moment.

“Uh?” Riley’s voice broke the tension, her brow furrowing in doubt as she observed the exchange. She wasn’t about to let the moment slip away, though. With a determined look, she tried to regain Lucas’s attention. “Yogi might have exaggerated the truth in your case.”

Maya couldn’t help but interject, the words slipping out before she could stop them. “He loves messing with people.”

Lucas chuckled, a low, amused sound that made his Texan accent more pronounced as he responded with a wink, “Ain’t the first.”

Chapter Text

21:41. Wednesday. September 25 ^th . Maya’s studio.

Maya wished for only one thing: to go to sleep. The day had stretched her thin, pulling at every nerve with the weight of endless questions, whispers, and judgmental stares. She had walked Riley home, enduring a painfully quiet dinner with the concerned Matthews. They didn’t ask her about the situation, but their grave expressions spoke louder than words. Sometimes, silence from adults was worse than anything they could say.

When she opened the door to her studio apartment, the overwhelming stench of alcohol hit her like a wave. Her mother was draped across the couch, half upside-down, her limbs sprawled as if gravity had forgotten how to hold her together. Maya’s stomach sank. This wasn’t just tipsy—her mother was completely shitfaced. Again.

“Maya!” her mother slurred, struggling to lift her head at the sound of her daughter’s steps. Her voice was groggy, muddled by whatever mix of liquor she had poured down her throat. Dressed in a wrinkled black dress and tights, her body seemed restricted, unable to move with any coordination.

The loft was a disaster. Empty bottles lined the counter, their sticky residue catching the light from the dim, flickering bulb. Days-old takeout containers littered the floor, and the sour smell of stale Chinese food turned Maya’s stomach. She could hear the distant rumbles of the metro, a sound that somehow made her feel even more isolated, as if the world outside moved on while she was stuck in this hell.

“It’s nothing,” Maya muttered, dropping her bag with a thud. Her hands shook slightly as she unlaced her shoes, her movements slow, unalarming. She silently begged the universe to let her mother dismiss her, to let her slip past unnoticed.

But the universe wasn’t listening.

“You fucking kidding me, right?” her mother snarled, pushing herself up awkwardly on the couch, her eyes narrowing as if focusing on her daughter took effort. “I got a call from your principal today. You know I’ve got a goddamned job, right? I can’t have it interrupted every time you screw up!” Her voice was rising, the words becoming clearer as anger sobered her.

Maya nodded, her heart racing. Her eyes darted to the door—escape. But she knew that if she left now, the explosion waiting for her when she returned would be even worse. So, she stayed, her legs trembling, rooted to the floor as if she could disappear if she stood still enough.

“What’s wrong with you?” Her mother’s voice hit her like a slap. “Can’t you just behave?”

The apartment felt smaller with every breath. The walls seemed to close in, suffocating her, amplifying every sound—the creak of the old chair as she sat down, the clink of bottles as her mother reached for another drink.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Maya said, forcing her voice to stay calm, steady. “I cleared it up with Mr. Fraser.” Her body ached with the effort to stay composed, her mind screaming to flee, to hide, but she stood her ground.

Her mother slowly got to her feet, swaying as she moved toward Maya. Her steps were slow, predatory, as if enjoying the moment of control. “You better have,” she muttered, her breath reeking of vodka and bitterness. “’Cause the last thing I want is another call from Topanga.”

Her mother’s hands landed on Maya’s shoulders—heavy, cold. Maya flinched at the touch, but her body was frozen, her mind buzzing with fear. The pressure on her shoulders wasn’t hard, but it might as well have been a weight she couldn’t bear. “You hear me?” Her mother’s voice was loud, ringing in her ears, each word a reminder of just how unsafe Maya felt, even here.

“Ain’t gonna happen again, kid,” her mother added with a slurred sneer, as if daring Maya to defy her.

“Promise,” Maya whispered, knowing it was a lie. Her mother didn’t care about promises, only herself.

Satisfied for the moment, her mother took another gulp from her glass, muttering curses under her breath before collapsing back onto the couch. Within moments, she was unconscious again, drifting back into the darkness that Maya wished she could escape from too.

Maya stood there, rooted to the spot, her body tense, heart still pounding. She couldn’t relax—not yet. There was no safety here. She still had that apology letter to write. Sleep would have to wait.

Maya let out a long breath as her mother’s snores filled the apartment. She glanced at the cluttered table, where her bag sat beside her phone. She picked it up, getting a paper out her supplies. Her phone’s battery was at 48%—just enough to get her through this one last task. She googled "how to write an apology sincerely," her fingers moving on autopilot as she scrolled through the results. Maya had written a few apologies in her day, often with Riley or Farkle’s help. They would proofread them—or sometimes, they’d even scrap the whole thing and start over, making sure it sounded just right. But this time, she wasn’t stressing over every word. The truth was, Mrs. Walker would probably accept anything as long as it sounded remorseful enough.

Maya copied and pasted bits from the first few websites and inserted the parts that seemed to fit her situation. That should do the trick. Apologizing to adults was usually just about saying what they wanted to hear, anyway. Though she genuinely felt sorry for causing trouble, her thoughts kept drifting to Lucas, the cowboy was probably writing his own letter right now.

It wasn’t Mrs. Walker who made her stomach churn—it was Lucas and the mess they’d all been caught in. Riley and Farkle were stuck in detention because of her, their records stained by her mistakes. She sighed, signing her name at the bottom of the page. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

Just as she was about to put her phone down, it buzzed in her hand. The screen lit up with a name she hadn’t expected to see this late.

‘U there?’

Maya’s heart quickened, her fingers typing out a reply almost instinctively. ‘Yep,’ she answered, trying to keep it casual.

‘U okay?’

She hesitated, surprised by the concern. It wasn’t like Lucas to check in, at least not like this. Maybe he was just making sure she was alright after everything that had gone down today. Or maybe... he needed someone to talk to, too.

‘Yep, you?’ she replied, glancing at the time. If she wanted to get any sleep tonight, she’d have to shut her phone off soon.

‘Surviving.’

The word made her smile. She could picture him, probably in his room, dealing with whatever fallout his parents had unleashed. She didn’t know his family well, but she could guess they weren’t the type to let things slide easily.

‘Finished with your letter?’ he asked, keeping the conversation going.

Maya chuckled. Maybe he did need company. It was late, and he could have texted anyone, but here he was, talking to her.

‘Yeah, you?’

‘Can I show you?’

His message brought a genuine smile to her face. She liked the message and waited for the photo to load. When it did, she took her time analyzing his handwriting—neat, just like him.

‘So lame,’ she teased, hoping to draw a reaction from him.

‘Better than yours.’

She laughed out loud at his comeback, feeling a lightness she hadn’t felt in hours. ‘At sucking, maybe,’ she typed back, adding a couple of playful emojis. His laughter came through in the next text, and she could almost hear his voice in her mind, that soft chuckle of his.

For a moment, the conversation paused, hanging in the air like a breath between heartbeats. Then, a new message appeared.

‘Sorry about today.’

Maya’s smile faded slightly, her thoughts shifting. So, that was it. The reason he had reached out tonight. He felt bad for how he’d spoken to her at the lockers. She paused, thinking about what to say. She could have called him out or told him how wrong he had been. But that wasn’t how she felt. The truth was, she understood. Lucas hadn’t done anything truly hurtful; he had just been upset, same as her. They were both dealing with things in their own messed-up ways.

‘It’s okay; even cowboys have bad days,’ she typed back, feeling the tension dissolve between them.

Before he could reply, she added, ‘Thanks for having my back.’

His response came quickly, and the warmth of it settled over her like a soft blanket, easing the tension that had knotted her chest since she’d walked through the door.

‘Always.’

Maya smiled at the screen, feeling lighter than she had in days. As she closed her eyes, phone still in hand, the weight of the world seemed a little less heavy. The nightmares, for once, didn’t feel like they were waiting for her. Not tonight.

7:05. Thursday. September 26th. Riley’s apartment.

Waking up that morning was a battle Maya wasn’t ready to fight. Her body felt like lead, as though the weight of the previous day clung to her bones. The blankets, once comforting, now felt cold and heavy, trapping her in her thoughts. But the deep, rhythmic snores of her mother were enough of a wake-up call, forcing her out of the couch. She rubbed her tired eyes, pulling on the same clothes she had tossed over a chair the night before.

As she stepped into the hallway, leaving the stale scent of alcohol behind, she made her way to the one place that brought her any comfort. Riley’s apartment, with its warmth, light, and unshakable sense of security. When she reached the bay window, Maya was greeted with Riley’s wide, eager smile, as if nothing could ever go wrong in her world.

“Peaches!” Riley’s cheerful voice carried beyond the glass, cutting through the fog of Maya’s exhaustion.

“Riles,” Maya replied, her voice laced with the remnants of sleep. She climbed through the window, feeling the contrast between the biting cold she had left behind and the cozy warmth of Riley’s room. For a brief moment, everything was normal. No lingering thoughts about the previous day, no tension from her home life—just this, sitting in the sunlight with her best friend.

Riley didn’t ask any questions about the day before, didn’t press for details, and Maya was grateful for that. Yesterday had been brutal, but Riley’s kindness made it easier to push it all aside.

“So, I was up all night thinking…” Riley began, pulling Maya into her orbit as she led her to the infamous closet, a kaleidoscope of colors waiting to be picked through. “We’re totally stuck participating in the school play now, right? So, everyone’s getting a role. And... while I’ve never done theater before, I want to be Juliet!” Her enthusiasm bubbled over as she tossed clothes around, as if trying to materialize her grand plans through fabric.

Maya raised an eyebrow, watching as Riley flitted between outfits. Right, another one of Riley’s sudden, intense interests. Maya suppressed a smirk. She admired Riley’s optimism, but the idea of throwing herself into yet another project felt exhausting.

“Woah, Riley, that’s a commitment. Do you think you can act?” Maya asked, the closet’s vivid hues reflecting on her face as she stared at the array of pinks, purples, and blues. Riley’s closet had enough outfits to dress an entire theater troupe.

“I think your mom could give me some advice so I can become a better actress. Who knows, I might even be good enough to get cast in my own Disney show,” Riley joked, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she spun dramatically, a dress draped over her arm like a stage prop.

Maya felt her stomach twist at the mention of her mom. Riley had no idea what kind of person her mother really was. To Riley, she was just a potential acting coach, someone with the know-how to teach her to be Juliet. But to Maya, her mom was a ghost, present in body but never really there.

“Are you doing this because you think Lucas will sign up as Romeo?” Maya asked, arching an eyebrow. The answer was already written all over Riley’s flushed cheeks, but it was fun watching her best friend try to wriggle out of the obvious.

“Maya! My sudden pursuit of the arts has nothing to do with Lucas, I assure you. I have no ulterior motive whatsoever,” Riley said with a playful smile, her voice dripping with false sincerity. She tossed a ruffled top over her shoulder, clearly enjoying the dramatic effects she was already creating.

“If you say so.” Maya smirked, leaning against the closet door, arms folded as she watched Riley’s enthusiasm unfold.

“Was I convincing enough?” Riley asked, wide-eyed and hopeful.

“For others maybe.”

Riley huffed but didn’t let it deter her. “Maya, please, please, please! Let me schedule a meeting with your mom—I need urgent acting classes!”

Maya’s face fell slightly, but she hid it quickly behind a thoughtful nod. How could she explain it? Riley’s request was innocent, but it cut deep. Her mom wasn’t the kind of person to show up for anything, much less offer acting lessons. Maya didn’t want to burst Riley’s bubble, but the thought of her mom letting Riley down made her stomach twist in anticipation.

“I’ll ask her,” Maya lied, her voice casual as she pointed to a blue jumpsuit hanging in the closet. “Here, wear this. You’ll be rebellious chic.”

“Thank you, Peaches! You’re the best! You’ll see—I’m going to be the greatest Juliet to ever perform on stage, all thanks to your help!” Riley beamed, snatching the jumpsuit and rushing off to change, her excitement infectious.

Maya sighed, turning back to the endless rows of clothes. Riley’s closet was a treasure trove, a riot of colors and styles, none of which belonged to someone with problems like hers. Sometimes Maya borrowed a jacket or a pair of shoes, just to feel like she was part of something brighter, but she knew borrowing clothes too often would eventually raise questions. And questions were the last thing she needed. She didn’t want anyone catching even a glimpse of the life she was trying so hard to hide.

As she lingered in front of the closet, she ran her fingers over a soft, oversized sweater, imagining what it would be like to wear something like that—something warm, safe, and entirely hers. But that wasn’t her world, not yet. For now, she’d settle for watching Riley try to become Juliet.

7:38.Thursday. September 26th. Metro.

The girls hurried down the steps of the subway, the clatter of their shoes echoing in the station. The cool underground air brushed against Maya’s face, but it did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside her. The train’s headlights appeared in the distance, glowing in the darkness of the tunnel as it rumbled toward them. Just in time. She and Riley slipped into the crowded metro car as the doors slid shut behind them with a soft hiss. It was stuffy inside, the scent of warm bodies mixed with faint traces of coffee and city grime filling the air.

Maya felt the train lurch forward, her hand gripping the metal pole as they began to move. She kept her eyes on the floor, watching her worn-out sneakers as if they held the answers to the thoughts gnawing at her mind. The dull hum of the train and the low chatter of passengers filled the space, but Maya wasn’t really listening. Her guilt was louder, clawing at her from the inside, refusing to be ignored.

“Hey, look,” Riley’s voice broke through her haze, startling her back to the present. “Lucas is here.” Riley pointed, her face lighting up as she spotted him across the car. Maya glanced up, her gaze following the direction of Riley’s finger, and there he was—Lucas, sitting a few rows away, his posture relaxed despite the crowded car.

Maya’s heart did a little flip, a nervous flutter that she quickly tried to squash. Her stomach twisted with the uncomfortable reminder of last night’s conversation. She had spent the evening texting Lucas, and now that she saw him in person, she felt the weight of guilt settle deeper into her chest. It gnawed at her, insistent, as if she had betrayed something important, even though she hadn’t done anything wrong.

She convinced herself it had been innocent. Just two friends talking. But then, why did it feel like something more? Was it because they had never texted one-on-one like that before, without the buffer of Riley or Farkle in their group chat? Or was it the fact that their conversation had flowed so easily, as if something unspoken lingered between the words? No, she shook her head inwardly. She was overthinking it. He liked Riley, and that was the end of it.

Still, the unease festered.

Maya forced a nod, following Riley’s lead as the brunette weaved through the crowd, her excitement practically bubbling over. “Lucas!” Riley called, her voice bright as she made her way toward him, oblivious to Maya’s inner turmoil. Maya trailed behind, her feet heavy with the weight of her thoughts. She felt out of place, like she was intruding on something.

She caught sight of the boy’s face as they neared him, his eyes lifting from whatever he had been staring at—his phone maybe—and meeting hers. For a split second, Maya’s heart skipped a beat. Lucas’s blue eyes locked onto hers, and in that brief, fleeting moment, they shared something. It was hard to put into words, but it was there, an understanding. A silent acknowledgment of the night before.

Her throat tightened. She looked away quickly, turning her gaze out the window. Anything to avoid facing the quiet tension between them. The dark tunnel outside blurred past, the lights of the city flickering in and out of view like fleeting thoughts she couldn’t catch. She tried to focus on the patterns of light, the distant sounds of the city, anything to push away the guilt that twisted inside her like a knife.

Beside her, Riley nudged herself into the seat next to Lucas as a group of passengers got off at the next station. She filled the space with her usual enthusiasm, laughing about something Maya couldn’t quite hear. Maya stayed standing, gripping the pole for support even though there was now room to sit. She felt unsteady, as if the ground beneath her was constantly shifting.

Her eyes drifted back to the window. The world outside felt distant and unreachable. The tunnels of the subway were dark, oppressive, reflecting the inner landscape of her mind. Every flicker of light reminded her of the conversation with Lucas, the way his voice had sounded through the text, casual but laced with something deeper. She had found herself enjoying their chat more than she should have, and now it felt like a betrayal.

Why was she like this? She was loyal to Riley. There was nothing going on between her and Lucas—there couldn’t be. Yet the guilt still ate away at her, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. She knew she had to face her teachers this morning, face the consequences of her actions in school, but this guilt was different. This wasn’t about detention or getting into trouble. This was about the fragile balance of friendship, and how easily it could be tipped over.

She could feel Lucas’s presence just behind her, like a shadow she couldn’t escape. Even though he and Riley were now chatting, that moment of eye contact between her and Lucas lingered in the air. She felt like she was walking a tightrope, trying to pretend everything was fine, but the guilt gnawed at her with every second.

The train rattled on, the world outside becoming more illuminated as they approached the next stop. Maya’s reflection in the window stared back at her, and for a moment, she barely recognized the girl looking at her. The girl in the glass seemed fragile, lost almost.

As the train slowed, Riley was still talking, her laughter filling the space between them, but it sounded distant to Maya. She glanced back at Lucas. His eyes met hers again, and this time, the connection felt heavier. Maya forced a small smile, hoping it would be enough to keep Riley from noticing her unease. Riley had no idea about last night, and Maya wanted to keep it that way. There was nothing to tell, she reminded herself. It was just a conversation. Just an apology. Nothing more. But as the train came to a halt and the doors slid open, Maya couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed.

She wasn’t sure what it was, but it made her uneasy. She followed Riley and Lucas out of the train, the cold morning air hitting her face as they stepped onto the platform. Maya breathed in deeply, trying to shake the guilt, but it clung to her like the dampness in the air. She was trapped in her own mind, and no amount of fresh air could change that.

7:52 . Thursday. September 26th. John Quincy Addams Middle School. Lockers.

As they walked to school, the early morning sun did little to lift the heavy cloud hanging over Maya's thoughts. Riley’s chatter filled the space between them, but Maya’s mind kept wandering. Her steps felt mechanical, each one weighed down by something she couldn’t quite name. Was it guilt? Or maybe it was the mess inside her that she couldn’t untangle, especially after last night’s conversation with Lucas.

She glanced at Riley, who was talking about the upcoming school play, her excitement as vibrant as always. Maya forced a smile, nodding in the right places. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, but something had shifted—something she hadn’t told her best friend. She was hiding behind a wall of silence, and it was eating her up inside.

When they arrived at school, Farkle was already waiting by their lockers, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. Riley was the first to greet him, as always, but Maya kept her eyes low, avoiding any probing stares.

“How was the apology letter writing?” Farkle asked, his voice neutral but probing in that way he always managed.

Maya shrugged, “Fine, I guess.” her fingers nervously fiddling with the edges of the folded paper in her pocket. Lucas had made the whole thing feel... easier last night. But was that part of the problem? She didn’t know. She didn’t want to think about it too hard.

“We should go now before it’ll be too late,” Lucas said, joining them with his letter in hand.

They walked in together, side by side. From the outside, it might look like Lucas was just sticking close to his friends, but to Maya, it felt like something else was happening—something unspoken, unresolved.

With nerves fluttering in her chest, she turned to Lucas, trying to lighten the mood. “How about we just slip the apology letter under her door?” she suggested, half-serious, half-joking.

“Maya,” Lucas turned his head, meeting her gaze, his tone soft but firm.

Something fluttered inside her stomach, and before she could stop herself, she reached up and playfully pushed his nose with her finger. “Boing,” she said with a crooked smile. Lucas smiled back, a softness in his eyes that made her heart do a little flip.

“We have to cave,” he said, his voice calm and steady, the complete opposite of the storm inside her.

“We do,” Maya agreed, more to convince herself than anything else.

“We’re doing this together,” Lucas added.

“We are,” she repeated, her voice quieter this time, but she meant it. She wasn’t in this alone.

Lucas twisted the knob to the classroom, and they stepped inside to face Mrs. Walker, who was sitting at her desk. The air felt thick, the tension palpable.

“Good morning,” Mrs. Walker greeted them without looking up from her planner.

“Good morning, Mrs. Walker,” they both said, almost in sync, startled by their own formality. Lucas, ever composed, stepped forward first, his hand searching hers as he guided the blonde forward.

Maya could feel the warmth of his presence beside her, and for a moment, it steadied her.

Lucas cleared his throat, presenting his letter. “We wanted to hand these over and extend our apologies for the scene we caused yesterday. We sincerely regret our actions.”

Maya almost admired how smooth he sounded, like he’d practiced that line a dozen times. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his perfect delivery, but instead, she added her own bit, trying to sound sincere. “I’m sorry for sleeping in class, Mrs. Walker. It won’t happen again.”

Mrs. Walker finally looked up from her papers, her sharp gaze cutting through the room. “Thank you, Mr. Friar and Ms. Hart. I hope you’ve both learned your lesson. I won’t tolerate another uprising. In my class, you follow my rules, understood?”

“Yes,” they both replied in unison, trying not to sound too relieved. His hand grip tightened on her, sending waves of flutters in her stomach.

“Good. Now, you may leave,” Mrs. Walker said curtly, returning to her paperwork as if the whole thing had been a mere inconvenience.

As they exited the room, Lucas’ grip on her hand softened, exhaling a long breath. The tension between them shifted, as if the weight of the moment had finally passed.

“Hey! Maya! Lucas! How was it?” Riley’s voice called from down the hall. Maya flinched slightly, noticing how Riley’s eyes lingered on their intertwined hands just before Lucas let go. Maya’s stomach did a little flip again, and she wasn’t sure why. She hated how self-conscious she felt, like everything she was doing was wrong. But how could it be, when Lucas’ presence made her feel... safe?

“Thanks, Maya, I needed the support,” Lucas said, his smile soft, his hand brushing his hair as he gave her a look that lingered a little too long.

“No problemo, rodeo,” she said, making finger guns to try to lighten the weird tension between them.

How stupid was that?

As Lucas turned to walk away, Maya felt the warmth of his hand still lingering in her own, and for a moment, she hated herself for liking it. Was she betraying Riley? No, she couldn't be. It wasn't like that... was it? Maya’s mind was miles away, tangled up in feelings she didn’t want to admit—couldn’t even fully understand. All she knew was that Lucas was... something. Something that made her feel different. Something that felt like a secret.

The boy cleared his throat and updated Riley on their apologies. “I’m just glad we got out without a scratch,” he said before heading off to their next class—Mathematics. Shit, Maya already had enough problems to solve.

12:50. Thursday. September 26th. John Quincy Addams Middle School. Cafeteria.

The day dragged on, as slow as most days did, with their peers still buzzing about the revolt from the day before. Yet, the rumors had died down once Yogi bravely confessed the real version of events, putting an end to the wild speculation. The gang had been hanging out tightly, sticking together more than ever. Riley, determined to stay optimistic, began her usual round of questions, this time about the mandatory school play.

“So, have any of you thought about which part you want for the play?” she asked, looking hopeful.

“I guess I never really thought about it,” Lucas replied, poking at his lunch half-heartedly. His mind was clearly elsewhere.

“I’m sure you’d make a great actor,” Riley said, smiling brightly, trying to keep spirits high.

Farkle, as usual, leaned in toward Maya, whispering, “Which part is Riley signing up for?”

Maya smirked. “Take a guess,” she replied dryly, knowing exactly what he was thinking

“I want the Romeo part,” Farkle declared, his voice louder than Maya anticipated. His deduction skills were proving to be as sharp as ever. Riley's smile faltered, a nervous laugh escaping her lips—clearly, this wasn’t part of her plan.

“Well, good for you, Farkle,” Riley said, shooting him a sharp look, as if he had just sabotaged her grand scheme. Farkle, however, didn’t back down. His newfound ambition seemed to fuel his confidence.

“I’ve always wanted to try out a bigger role,” he added, undeterred by Riley's reaction.

Lucas, sensing the tension, shrugged. “With basketball and all, I don’t know if I have the time to learn a big part,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant, though it was clear he didn’t want to get involved in the play’s drama.

Riley’s eyes shot to Maya, silently begging for help. Maya could read her friend’s crisis mode from a mile away: Riley needed Lucas to sign up as Romeo for the play, and things were quickly going off course.

“The play is, like, barely an hour long, and the boy’s dead half the time—how bad can it be?” Maya commented, feigning disinterest as she munched on her lunch.

Lucas turned his gaze to her, curiosity piqued. “What will you audition for then?” he asked, trying to redirect the conversation back to Maya.

“The backstage production team,” she replied without hesitation, as if she had already made up her mind.

“No, no, no, no, no, Maya! You should audition too!” Farkle insisted, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Riley whispered a quick “Come on,” nudging Maya to participate. Her secret plan was falling into place—get everyone to audition, especially Lucas, and make sure Mrs. Walker cast him as Romeo.

Maya thought it through for a moment, weighing her options. Then, Farkle, with his usual cunning, proposed, “How about this: if Lucas auditions for Romeo, you audition for Juliet.”

Maya shot him a look, annoyed by how clever he thought he was. His face was becoming increasingly tempting to kick, but the more she considered it, the more she realized it wasn’t a bad deal. Farkle, of course, was playing it safe—by proposing the deal, he wouldn’t have to choose between the two girls, and everyone would be satisfied.

Auditioning didn’t necessarily mean getting the role. It only meant trying something new. And what if, by some chance, Lucas wanted her to be Juliet? No, he was probably just teasing, pushing her limits. Riley, however, wanted him as Romeo, so unknowingly, Farkle had given her the best opportunity to make it happen.

“This sounds interesting. Maya?” Lucas asked, his eyebrows raised, clearly enjoying the prospect of all this drama unfolding.

“I’m in,” she replied, feeling the excitement of the game.

“Deal,” Lucas said, shaking her hand firmly, both of them aware that something was up but too eager to back down. It felt too easy, and Lucas could sense that something was going on. Still, it only made things more intriguing for him.

“So, we’re really doing this again, huh?” Riley asked the group, a mix of excitement and uncertainty in her voice. “This time, we’re all against each other.”

“Not necessarily,” Maya smirked, her mind already planning her next move.

“Oh, you are going to make an effort,” Farkle said, narrowing his eyes.

“The deal was to audition, not to put effort into it,” Maya quipped, shrugging her shoulders.

“Maya…” Farkle sighed, giving her best friend a knowing look.

“Alright, alright, I’ll try my very best. Promise,” Maya said, with a mischievous grin.

“You crossed your fingers, didn’t you?”

“I totally did,” Maya replied, grinning as Farkle groaned in playful frustration.

Chapter Text

16:19. Thursday. September 26th. John Quincy Addams Middle School. Storage room.

"I can’t believe we all somehow got stuck here. How does this keep happening?" Riley laughed, but the laughter quickly turned to happy tears as she wiped her face with the back of her hand.

Farkle smirked. "Well, statistically, with this one’s track record, this isn't too surprising." He was directly pointing at the blonde. Maya brushed his finger away with her hand, rolling her eyes, looking unbothered by the accusation. Her façade was holding strong, she wasn’t about to make it worse.

Lucas grinned, his smile widening into a full-fledged beam, his adorable dimple showing.  "The best coincidence," he added, winking at Riley, whose cheeks flushed slightly. The air between them felt charged, the prince had acted exactly as the princess had wished.

Mrs. Walker, the bane of their existence, had assigned half the class to detention after yesterday's revolt. But instead of having them sit in silence, in a classroom, she had tasked them with their first order of business for the school play: cleaning out the storage closets and sorting through old props.

Lucas, Riley, Farkle, and Maya found themselves relegated to the wigs and makeup section—a cramped, dusty corner in the back of the auditorium storage room. They had been handed a list of tasks: organizing donation boxes, testing ancient makeup kits, and discarding anything expired, and more. The room smelled faintly of old theater fabrics and stage dust, with shelves crammed full of forgotten props and broken stage equipment. Overhead, flickering lights buzzed, casting an eerie glow over their work.

"Why couldn’t they have done this during the summer?" Farkle asked, poking at a box filled with worn-out stage wigs of every color.

"Don’t know, don’t care," Maya shrugged, tossing an expired eyeliner into the trash bin with a flick of her wrist. She was crouched beside Lucas, sorting through a pile of makeup tubes that were as suspect as their brand names. As she tried on the only pens working, smudging her fingers with light and dark pigments as she went. "It’s not like anyone’s going to wear half this stuff anyway."

As Lucas reached for another box of cracked eyeshadow palettes, Maya accidentally swiped his cheek with a blue pigment. The streak caught him off-guard, freezing him mid-motion.

"You look real fierce now, Huckleberry," Maya teased, admiring her handiwork. The line stretched from his cheek down to his ear.

"Do I?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow as he turned his face toward the blonde, catching her look as another wave of guilt overtook her. She should have been more careful, avoid physical interactions with the boy, and limit their conversations. A giggle snapped the two out of their stares, and the blonde was reminded once again, that she was not meant to touch the adonis, but Riley, her best friend was.

"Maya!" Riley gasped, though her eyes danced with affection, Maya knew the girl was on the verge of physically putting herself between the two. "Careful—if Mrs. Walker comes in here, we’re dead."

Her warning had been pretty clear: ‘don’t touch him, or you’ll be in trouble.’ Maya didn’t know if that reaction had been unconscious or not, or if Riley was getting more and more possessive over the cowboy. She could have taken the words at face value, but girls were not wired to limit themselves to one meaning.

"It’s fine" Maya said, waving it off like it was nothing. The best way to escape the racoon was to slowly step away from the danger. "She asked us to test the makeup, didn’t she? I’m sampling it directly where it’ll be used. Plus, we’re basically finished here, and Mrs. Walker is too busy supervising Yogi and Julian with the heavy props."

Great job Maya, she thought, this explanation made it clear enough for Riley’s worries to lessen. At least, the ones concerning the teacher. As they continued their cleanup, Farkle couldn’t resist getting into the spirit of things, trying on multiple wigs from his boxes. First a long blonde one with spikes of raven near the ends, then a fiery red one that fell down his back like an 80s rockstar. Voluminous, and absolutely ridiculous.

"You guys realize we’re barely two corridors away from the Yard," Farkle said, adjusting his newest wig with pins. "And the Society’s secret meeting is in a few minutes."

The gang’s eyes lit up at the mention of the Society. With Maya especially curious with his line of thinking. "Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?" she asked, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

"How much do you bet Mrs. Walker will be stuck with Yogi for another fifteen minutes?" Farkle added, his voice lowered conspiratorially. He looked particularly different from this light, the boy wasn’t known for his devilish antics, though he truly was an evil mastermind.

Riley, who had been rummaging through a pile of makeup accessories, froze. "Guys, no! We shouldn’t do this. This is what got us into trouble in the first place. We cannot underestimate Mrs. Walker."

"Come on, Riles," Maya coaxed, her eyes gleaming with the prospect of getting out of here and into a new adventure. "We could just take a quick look. We’ll be in and out before she even notices."

Before Riley could protest further, the sound of Mrs. Walker’s heels clicked down the hall. The four of them froze, tension thick in the air as she suddenly appeared in the doorway, her sharp eyes scanning the storage room.

"Everything alright here?" she asked, her tone firm as her gaze fell on Lucas’s blue-painted cheek.

Maya, quick on her feet, shot back, "Yeah, I just accidentally... swiped some makeup on Lucas." She smiled innocently, hoping Mrs. Walker would buy her excuse.

Mrs. Walker raised an eyebrow but seemed too preoccupied with the chaos of supervising the other half of the class. "There are makeup wipes in the red box," she said with a dismissive wave before turning to leave, clearly trusting them to behave while she dealt with other students. The door clicked shut behind her. Leaving the gang alone.

The moment she was gone, Lucas wiped his cheek with the back of his hand and leaned in toward the group. "I’m in if you guys are," he said quietly, his voice taking on an edge of excitement. Maya’s heart leapt at the prospect of sneaking out while Farkle, was grinning ear to ear, already on board.

"How about this," Maya suggested, lowering her voice. "We split into two groups—one stays here for the first few minutes to keep an eye on things, then we switch out. That way, someone’s always here in case Mrs. Walker comes back."

Farkle nodded, his mind already working out the logistics. "How are we going to decide who goes first?" he asked, his eyes darting between Maya and Riley.

Riley, still on edge about the whole idea, looked uncertain. "Maybe we shouldn’t—"

"Pick a hand," Lucas interrupted, holding both hands out to Riley with a playful grin. He had hidden something behind his back, something she couldn’t see. Riley hesitated, then sighed, picking his right hand. Lucas revealed his hand and—absolutely nothing on his palm. “You’re with Farkle" he announced.

Farkle and Riley would be the first pair to sneak out, while Maya and Lucas would cover for them. As the plan took shape, the air crackled with anticipation. Their hearts raced—not just because they were breaking the rules, but because, despite everything, they were having fun.

Maya could feel it—the weight of the day shifting, not with the burden of guilt, but with the thrill of doing something outside of a teacher’s authority. As the first pair moved toward the door, Maya followed them behind, her pulse quickening. Riley gave them one last look, half-worried, half-excited, and Lucas stood watch, hoping their evil plan would come to fruition.

16:55. Thursday. September 26th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

Maya leaned back, observing her handiwork on Lucas' face. She had drawn playful lines over his cheeks and forehead with the face paint, still needing to test the products, and now his face bore a fierce yet comical expression. He tilted his head toward the mirror, examining the blue and green streaks that matched his plaid. The effect was, in a word, chucklesome.

“Call me Mad Dog,” Lucas joked, adopting a gruff accent as though he were imitating some action movie star. He puffed out his chest, clearly enjoying his own antics.

Maya, trying to hold back a smirk, raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like a Mad Dog to me.” The words slipped out with a teasing edge, drawing his attention.

He turned to face her, his eyes lighting up with curiosity. “Well…” He paused, a slow grin creeping across his lips. “What do I seem like to you?”

Biting her lip, Maya raised her eyes, feigning deep thought before answering. “You know that sheep that Mary had?”

Lucas chuckled, leaning away slightly but his gaze never left her. He seemed to enjoy the banter, but there was something softer in his expression now, like the joke had dissolved into something more comfortable between them.

“I miss my goats,” he said suddenly, his voice losing some of the humor and gaining a note of nostalgia. His eyes drifted past her, as if he were back on the wide-open pastures of Texas, far from the hustle and noise of the city. For a moment, his shoulders sagged, the cowboy’s soft dimple fading away.

Maya didn’t interrupt his train of thought, just silently gathered up more of the scattered makeup items from the floor. She could sense the shift in his mood, but didn’t want to press him. Some memories were like that—too tender to prod, yet too important to let go of entirely.

“I miss my friends, my school, my family there. It’s like the more I spend time here, the more I wish I could be there with them,” Lucas admitted quietly, his gaze eventually finding hers again. His voice was gentle now, carrying the weight of homesickness. “But I’m glad to be here with you guys.”

Maya paused. She wasn’t sure what to say, so she simply nodded. She knew that feeling—the ache of home, mixed with the hope of where you were now. The moment stretched between them, a subtle connection forming.

Before either of them could say more, Farkle’s voice cut through the atmosphere. “We spied on them,” he said, bursting into the room, a wig now hanging loosely over his head. “They’re still in the yard now, but we couldn’t get too close without getting spotted.”

Lucas and Maya snapped out of their quiet moment, looking toward Farkle as he dramatically flopped down onto a chair, his wig askew.

“So, you guys still have like less than ten minutes left on the clock,” Farkle continued, glancing at his watch.

“Should we go too?” Lucas asked the blonde.

“I’m not backing off cowboy.”  

Riley poked her head in from the hallway, having overheard the conversation. "Guys, come on, it’s risky, we barely made it out." she warned, though the sparkle in her eyes suggested she wasn’t entirely opposed after experiencing the ride herself.

Maya shook the worries with a grin. "It’s just a little fun, Riles. Besides, what’s detention for if not for breaking a few rules?" The gang exchanged looks, and in a matter of seconds, they were all in agreement.

17:05. Thursday. September 26th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

Maya and Lucas huddled behind a row of lockers, exchanging glances like two agents on a high-stakes mission. Every sound, every shadow seemed charged with potential discovery, or secret. Maya leaned in, listening carefully for footsteps, her heart pounding in her chest. Silence. The coast was clear.

"Ready, Hop-along?" she whispered, her lips curving into a mischievous smirk as she glanced toward the hallway leading to the Yard.

Lucas rolled his eyes, barely containing his amusement. "That name’s killing my street cred."

"You’re right, let’s go Sundance."

The thrill of sneaking around sent adrenaline rushing through Maya's veins. They crouched low, their movements precise, sticking close to the walls. A faint sound—the scratch of a pen on paper—echoed from a nearby classroom. Maya motioned for Lucas to follow as they slipped into the second corridor. Every step was calculated, the air thick with the possibility of getting caught. 

The Yard wasn’t far now, but the real challenge was ahead. The Society meeting. Worst case scenario, they could use their names as an alibi for their presence, since the duo had received an invitation. But these cards wouldn't save them from detention if they got caught out of it. Maya’s pulse quickened as they approached the glass door to the yard. This was the most exciting—and nerve-wracking—mission she’d ever embarked on. Maybe the first one driven by the need of adventure.

“Almost there,” Maya whispered, feeling the rush of danger. Lucas nodded, his face equally serious, though she caught a flicker of excitement in his eyes.

As they edged closer, faint noise reached their ears. Maya peered through the glass door, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the Society members. From her angle, the attendees wore blue capes draped over their shoulders, and masks obscuring their faces. They stood in a circle, their identities hidden. 

Why the secrecy persisted, even in meetings supposedly among insiders, was a mystery Maya hadn’t cracked. Still, part of her couldn’t help but wonder what the gathering felt like from the inside—what it would be like to be part of their hidden world. Curiosity buzzing inside her, Maya eased the door open, careful not to draw any attention as it creaked. A sliver of sound slipped through, muffled voices carried by the wind. She leaned in closer, the air from outside cooling her skin, but what made her shiver wasn’t the breeze—it was the voices. Familiar voices. Her pulse quickened. These weren’t strangers. She knew these people. Her brow furrowed as she strained to match each tone to a face, digging through the fog of her memory.

But no matter how hard she tried, the voices stayed just out of reach, slipping through her cracks. Her mind raced, coming up short. Why couldn’t she place them? A creeping sense of frustration clawed at her, but beneath it, something else lingered.

"Did you hear that?" she mouthed to Lucas, her excitement bubbling over. He shrugged, more focused on the group before them, but she couldn’t let it go. These people weren’t strangers.

One of the masked figures stepped forward, holding something in their hand. A phone. The group grew quiet, their leader’s voice low and commanding. "We’re now ready to reveal the secret mission of this club."

Maya’s heart skipped. That voice. Could it really be…?

Just as Maya leaned in, ready to catch more of the muffled voices, Lucas yanked her forward, pulling her into the yard. The glass door closed behind them with a sharp *click*, the sound as startling as a gunshot in the stillness. Heads were about to turn, a second away from exposing them.

Before she could react, Lucas's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her swiftly behind a pillar. His hand pressed gently but firmly against her lips, silencing any instinctive gasp. The closeness hit her like a wave—his warmth, his breath brushing against her ear as he whispered, “We’re trapped.”

Maya’s pulse quickened. On one hand, Lucas had saved them from being spotted by a teacher making their rounds, but in the process, he’d put them right in the heart of enemy territory—the Society’s meeting ground. Any one of the masked students could spot them if they so much as peered around the pillar.

Her heart raced, their shared breath lingering in the charged silence. If even one of them came their way, they were finished. The tension felt electric, the stakes impossibly high—and yet, with Lucas’s arm still around her, Maya couldn’t help but feel the thrill of it all. Caught between danger and excitement, and forbidden territories.

Maya’s heart raced, the real threat was the approaching teacher who could spot the gathering and stop it immediately, an action that would directly put the two in their view field as soon as the teacher opened the glass door to the yard. But for a moment there, Maya tried to forget where she was, caught between Lucas’s grip and the pounding of her own heartbeat.

The teacher passed by, her eyes glued to a folder, completely oblivious to the scene unfolding around her. Lucas loosened his grip on the pillar, allowing Maya to step back and catch her breath. Ms. Mariana hadn't noticed them or the group of students gathered in the yard. Maya blinked, the adrenaline slowly fading, and reality snapped back into place. The society meeting continued, its members still unaware of the two spies lurking in the shadows. The air buzzed with quiet anticipation, but for Maya, something else began to take over—a thrill, an idea bubbling up from deep inside her. She could feel the tension in her chest morphing into excitement, her mind sparking with a plan. A wicked grin spread across her face, mischievous and brimming with trouble.

Lucas noticed the shift immediately, narrowing his eyes at her. "What are you thinking?"

She didn’t answer. Instead, she darted toward the control panel near their pillar hidden by bushes. Lucas followed, intrigued, though he already seemed to guess what she was about to do.

“You’re still such a Huckleberry,” Maya teased as her fingers hovered over the emergency sprinkler switch.

Lucas’s eyes widened. “Wait, that’s—"

Before he could finish, Maya yanked the lever.

The satisfying hiss of water filled the air, followed by the sudden burst of sprinklers overhead. Water rained down on the Society members, soaking them in seconds. Papers flew out of their hands, phones slipped from their grips, and chaos erupted under the shower of sprinklers. Screams of shock and confusion filled the air.

"Who the hell turned on the sprinklers?!"

Maya could barely contain her laughter as she watched the scene unfold. Chaos reigned in the yard, water spraying in all directions, soaking the Society members who scrambled for cover. The looks of pure confusion and frustration on their faces were priceless. Beside her, Lucas stood shaking his head, his own smirk creeping across his face despite himself. The two of them were tucked safely in the bushes, far from prying eyes, with little to no water hitting their spot, enjoying the perfect view of their handiwork. They had done it—disrupted the oh-so-secret meeting of the Society in the most ridiculous, epic way possible.

"Time to go!" Maya whispered, grabbing Lucas’s hand and pulling him away from the chaos using another entrance door to the Yard.

They sprinted down the corridor, their footsteps barely audible over the echo of their laughter. The thrill of it all pulsed through her, each step feeling lighter than the last. It felt good—better than good. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Maya let herself revel in the moment, a carefree rush of excitement replacing the usual weight she carried. It was like shedding a burden she hadn’t realized had been there all along.

As they rounded the corner, Lucas pulled her to a stop, pushing her behind a classroom door as a teacher passed by. His arm slipped around her waist again, holding her close to keep her hidden. The sensation was different this time—not just adrenaline, but something deeper, something stirring in the pit of her stomach. His scent filled the air around her—warm and earthy, mixed of the sea.

When the coast was clear, Lucas loosened his hold, his voice soft in her ear. "Sorry for pushing you again."

Maya blinked, caught off guard by the apology. His tone held more than just an apology for their current situation—it carried a weight from something else. Something from before.

She smirked, trying to break the tension. "We’re on a mission, Ranger Rick. You’re allowed to push me if it means escaping detention.”

Lucas grinned, his playful side returning. “Good to know. Is now a good time to do it again?”

Maya’s heart skipped, her pulse quickening. She didn’t trust herself to answer, so instead, she darted away, racing toward their detention room. "Only if you can catch me!" she called over her shoulder.

It didn’t take long for Lucas to catch up, sweeping her off her feet in one swift motion. His arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground, and for a brief moment, the world faded away. It was just the two of them—laughing, breathing, hearts racing together.

"Will you call me Mad Dog now?" Lucas whispered in her ear, his tone light, but there was a depth behind it that made Maya’s stomach flip.

“Never," Maya replied, though her voice was softer than before, betraying the battle raging inside her. She wriggled free, her feet finally touching the ground, and straightened her wrinkly ragged clothes as if nothing had happened. But everything felt different.

As they approached the storage room, Farkle and Riley appeared, their curious expressions reminding the blonde the spies hadn’t acted alone.  

“What’s going on here?” Riley asked, her tone sharp and suspicious, like she knew something had just happened—something more than a silly chase.

Suddenly ashamed of her behavior, Maya quickly stepped away from Lucas, moving to stand to the side of the room. What had she been thinking? Why had she let him hold her like that? Her mind raced, trying to make sense of her own actions.

“We sort of had a bet on who could outrun the other,” Lucas explained nonchalantly, like he hadn’t just wrapped Maya in his arms moments before.

Farkle, sensing the tension, tried to redirect the confusion. “Did you see anything interesting?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“They were on the lot about to reveal some secret mission,” Lucas replied. “So, naturally, Maya activated the sprinklers.”

Farkle burst out laughing, while Riley forced a nervous chuckle, her eyes flicking between Maya and Lucas, trying to make sense of what she had just witnessed. There was something unnatural about the way Riley was acting—something almost fragile, uncertain. The blonde had never seen her friend act that way toward her. Kind of like she was sure if she could trust her anymore. Upon that realization, Maya’s features soured further. She had hurt her friend.

“Ms. Walker almost caught us, but I distracted her,” Farkle said, still grinning proud of his achievement.

“We should finish before she gets here again.” Riley suggested, her voice trying to sound casual but edged with something deeper, in a strange way for such a carefree bubbly personality, the sentence was misplaced somehow.

“We really should” Lucas chuckled unaware of the conflict brewing.

In a matter of minutes, the gang picked up the pace, eager to finish the last of their assigned tasks before Ms. Walker's voice rang out, dismissing them for the day. Exhausted but relieved, they exchanged knowing glances before heading to their lockers, each feeling the weight of the day lifting as they scattered to gather their belongings.

17:17. Thursday. September 26th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

As Maya and Riley walked side by side toward their lockers, Maya could feel the weight of the unspoken tension between them, thick as a balloon ready to burst. Riley’s usual chipper demeanor had vanished, replaced by something more distant, more guarded. It sent a ripple of dread through Maya’s chest, gnawing at her conscience like a guilty whisper.

“Everything okay?” Maya asked cautiously, her voice barely louder than a breath.

“Perfecto,” Riley exaggerated, a strained smile stretching across her lips. But the forced cheerfulness did nothing to disguise the unease in her eyes. Maya could almost hear the crack in her best friend’s heart. 

Maya’s pulse quickened, a wave of panic rising in her. Would her actions with Lucas be the wedge that drove Riley away? She imagined their friendship, once so effortless, now crumbling slowly, piece by fragile piece. She couldn’t let that happen. She’d cut out her own heart before betraying Riley’s trust. But could she really stop talking to Lucas? Pretend he didn’t exist? 

Maya clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. She couldn’t avoid the truth forever. But was she ready to face it head-on? To admit her flaws, her weaknesses, her shame? Anger simmered beneath her skin—anger at herself for letting things get this far, anger at the world for forcing her into this impossible choice, and anger at the unfairness of having to choose between loyalty and …well…him. How could she even consider standing as a rival to Riley? She wasn’t good enough for that. She wasn’t pure, or selfless, or good. Every stolen glance, every second spent with Lucas felt like a betrayal. And yet, those moments had become the few bright spots in the shadows she called home. But that brightness wasn’t hers to keep. Riley, her best friend—the light to her darkness, the sun to her moon—deserved that happiness. Maya would destroy herself before she ruined Riley’s love.

“What’s up?” Maya asked again, her voice gentler this time, her heart pounding in her throat.

“Nothing,” Riley replied as they reached their lockers, but her voice was tight, like it was holding something back, something that could shatter them both.

Maya swallowed hard. “Riles… you know you can tell me anything, right?”

Riley hesitated, her eyes flicking toward Maya before her shoulders slumped, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s just… are you… are you interested in Lucas romantically?” The question was a blade, sinking deep into Maya’s chest. Her breath hitched as she tried to keep her face neutral. The truth was there, sharp and undeniable, but she fought against it with everything she had.

“Why would you think that?” Maya asked, her voice controlled, but her pulse quickened. She could feel denial seeping into her words, like poison.

Riley’s gaze dropped. “I saw you with him…the way you were smiling… it just made me wonder.”

Maya’s stomach twisted into knots. She had been reckless. She had let her guard down, let herself enjoy Lucas’ company for just a moment too long, and now Riley had noticed. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let this ruin everything.

“You’re right. I was happy,” Maya said, her voice cracking ever so slightly. “But he’s not mine. He’s yours.”

“Maya, if you like him, it’s okay. You don’t have to—”

“I don’t like Lucas that way,” Maya cut her off, her voice firm, though the words were a knife twisting in her gut. “Huckleberry’s just my friend, that’s all.”

“You don’t?” Riley asked, a flicker of hope lighting her eyes.

“Nope. Friends. That’s it,” Maya insisted, forcing a smile, but it felt hollow.

Riley exhaled, her relief palpable. “Thank God! I don’t know how we could’ve handled both liking him.”

Maya let out a laugh, but it was brittle, thin. “Don’t worry, Riles. He’d pick you anyway.”

“How do you know?” Riley’s wide eyes searched hers, hopeful, innocent.

Maya’s smile wavered. “Just a hunch.”

Because deep down, Maya knew the truth—Lucas would choose Riley. He always would. And Maya would make sure of it. Even if it meant locking away her own heart, burying her feelings behind playful jokes and carefree banter. She would never stand in the way of Riley’s happiness. Not now. Not ever.

As they walked toward the main entrance, the weight of Maya’s silent promise pressed down on her: she would distance herself from Lucas, no matter how much it hurt. She’d give him up before her feelings spiraled out of control. Before her heart started hoping for more.

17:23. Thursday. September 26th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

Maya thought she’d made it through the day, that she’d managed to escape the boy whose presence made her heart flutter in ways she couldn’t afford to admit. But as she approached the metro station, there he was. Lucas stood waiting, his figure still and expectant, like a question she didn’t want to answer.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice hesitant, as though he sensed the walls she’d built between them in the recent minutes. He had kept the atrocious makeup, looking as ridiculous as ever.

“Hey,” Maya replied, keeping her tone as neutral as possible, like armor against the emotions threatening to break free. She forced herself to appear unbothered, indifferent, though every part of her screamed to run into his arms and feel the safety she found in his warmth earlier. He had kept her safe—from detention, from teachers, from students. Maya had been so caught up in the thrill of secrecy and adventure that she hadn’t fully grasped it in the moment. But Lucas had watched their backs, making sure they stayed clear of trouble. He had pushed her into safe grounds, looking out for her in ways she wasn’t used to. The protector role had always been hers in their trio. Farkle’s intellect was for planning, Riley’s heart was for motivation, but Maya had been the one to shield them from harm. She had carried that burden willingly, a silent, unseen weight. But today, things had shifted. The roles had been quietly reassigned, and Lucas had stepped in as her protector.

It was a surprise, a relief—one she hadn’t realized she needed. For the first time, Maya let her guard down, trusting his instincts to guide them to safety. How deeply unsettling it was... Her world had always spun in a certain way, with her as the one standing in front. But today, the orbits had changed. And she couldn’t forgive herself for that.

“Where are Riley and Farkle?” Lucas asked, his eyes searching for hers, but she kept her gaze on the ground, refusing to meet his.

“They both got lifts from their parents,” she said, her voice flat, robotic. He didn’t press further. He could feel the distance she was creating, but he didn’t ask why. Maya was grateful for that small mercy. They rode the metro in suffocating silence. Maya kept her eyes glued to the window, focusing on the blurred buildings as they passed, anything to distract her from the ache of being so close to him and yet so far away.

As they reached his stop, just as the doors slid open, Maya spoke without thinking. “Lucas…” He turned, hope flickering in his eyes, his lips parting in anticipation. “Don’t break her heart,” she whispered, the words cutting her deeper than she could have imagined. He stared at her, wide-eyed, and nodded. And as the doors closed behind him, Maya felt a deep, hollow ache settle into her chest. She had warned him, knowing full well it was her own heart that was already broken.

Chapter Text

13:17. Saturday. September 28^th. Riley’s apartment.

The afternoon sun lighted windows casted a warm glow on the colorful tween room. Maya was resting her head on the bay-window’s right side, in her usual seat next to her best friend, Riley. The brunette was reading their audition slip, an excerpt from this year’s play, Romeo & Juliet. The auditions would take place in the coming week, and the girls needed to prepare; learn the lines, add some movements; to hopefully get a role in the upcoming play. Their bet obliged their commitment to the bit.

The blonde had never starred in a play herself, but her mother was a member of both the Screen Actors Guild and the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists. To sum it up, Maya knew a thing or two about playing a character. Though the camera work had nuances the stage didn’t, her mother had practiced in front of the teen many times. Emulating that energy would only come naturally, after years of watching her mother strangle herself with dedication.

From Riley’s plan, the girls needed to practice the whole afternoon and many times during the week. From their schedule laid on the side pillow, Maya’s shoulders defeated, she really didn’t want to spend this much time on such a that matter. Not that she wouldn’t enjoy it, she just wasn’t ready to dedicate her whole week to receive a probable no from Ms. Walker.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves” she said to the bubbly girl laying her plans for their week.

Riley had dressed in a sunflower-patterned dress with bright blue tights, adorned with sparkly silver stars. They had just finished eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, carefully made by the tallest of the two. With her stomach full and the warmth of the afternoon settling in, Maya's eyes began to droop, but her growing drowsiness quickly faded as she noticed Riley’s expression fall too.

The brunette hadn’t been feeling her best these past few days. The mounting pressure of schoolwork, the permanent stain of "Detention" in bold on her record, and Lucas drawing attention from other girls had Riley doubting herself more than ever.

Was she pretty enough? Funny enough? Charismatic enough for someone like Lucas? She wondered what exactly he was looking for, and the question gnawed at her. Was it fate that had brought him to her on the subway that first day? Maybe the universe was trying to send her a message. As these doubts took root in her mind, Riley had forgotten one crucial factor—Maya.

From what Riley had gathered, Lucas was friendly to everyone, but there was something undeniably special about his connection with their group. Their bond felt unique, layered with moments of shared enjoyment. With each friend, Lucas revealed a different side of himself. Yet lately, Riley had been confronted with an unfamiliar, uncomfortable feeling. Watching Lucas and Maya laugh and joke so effortlessly, it had awakened a new kind of envy in her.

She had never thought it would happen—jealousy directed at Maya, her best friend. The thought made her feel small, ashamed, like a betrayal of their friendship. Riley had tried to suppress it, but the feeling lingered, stubborn and persistent, a shadow she couldn't quite shake.

Maya was her best friend. She shouldn’t have felt this way. Jealousy was dangerous, a sin—something only bad people entertained, something to tame. She hadn’t wished harm on her friend, not really. But she had wanted to switch places, just for that fleeting second. And yet, her conscience was drowning in guilt. Because deep down, Riley didn’t want to be Maya. She was perfectly fine being herself. But in that moment, she had doubted it—her worth, her identity, all erased for a brief instant in his eyes. And that realization terrified her.

Was this a sign of true love? Was she feeling so strongly for Lucas that she was losing herself in the process? And finally, was this love at all? Riley clung to romantic ideals from stories and movies, hoping to find answers, as if the world’s most tragic romances could provide her with clarity. Thinking back to the moment she lost herself, Riley hesitated, her inner turmoil bubbling up to the surface. She wanted to speak her truth but found the words tangled.

“It’s just... every time...” she started, but the words stumbled on her lips, slipping back into her throat before she could get them out. Riley was frustrated, caught between wanting to express her feelings and being unable to find the right way. So far, most of her plans to catch Lucas’ attention had fallen flat. Sure, her friendliness had worked, but anything deeper than light conversation—well, that was where she seemed to fail.

Trying out for the cheerleading squad had only earned her judgmental stares from the other girls, and her presidential campaign had done little to improve her standing. Even though Maya tried to shield her from the whispers, the looks, and the gossip, Riley couldn’t ignore them. One glance was enough to tell her everything. Riley was painfully aware of her awkward social standing. Like Farkle, she struggled to understand what she was doing wrong. Was it her clothes? The way she carried herself? How she raised her hand in class?

Maya would never say, always protective, and Lucas—he wouldn’t, either. They were loyal like that. So, left out of the loop, Riley started focusing on herself. If people didn’t want to be her friend or be seen with her, then fine. She wouldn’t chase them. That was the speech she practiced in her head, but in reality, when someone reached out to her, Riley was the first to accept. She understood what it felt like to be alone and knew the deep need for connection. Even if she had trouble admitting it, the feeling of being on the outside looking in still haunted her.

On days when Maya or Farkle were absent, Riley felt how much more fragile and exposed she was. On those days, classmates’ comments stung more, stares lingered longer, and snickering laughter behind her back became harder to ignore. Last year had been particularly rough, with some of the cool kids mocking her quirks. If Riley hadn’t signed up for debate alongside Farkle, she would’ve struggled even more to connect with people. Being a school pariah wasn’t a title anyone wanted to claim.

But with Lucas’ easygoing personality and their growing bond, her status had skyrocketed. Suddenly, people were paying attention to her, asking questions, giving compliments. Riley thought maybe—just maybe—people were maturing, seeing her for who she truly was: a good person.

“I want to discover new things I’m good at,” she said, her optimism spilling into the conversation.

“But we don’t have to practice every day to do that…” Maya trailed off, her tone a bit weary.

“Yes, Maya, we do. That’s how Olympians are made!” Riley responded, her determination shining through, unwilling to back down from her pursuit of growth. So, they did just that, practice until the sunny day turned into a chilly autumn evening.

18:31. Saturday. September 28^th. Riley’s apartment.

Maya wasn’t terrible at acting, and neither was Riley. They had actually enjoyed their back-and-forth, swapping lines and practicing more than required. Ms. Walker hadn’t insisted on choreography or singing, but Riley had decided to dive all the way into the world of Romeo & Juliet. They’d watched the Leonardo DiCaprio version, along with other classic takes on the story. Juliet was the symbol of innocence, and Romeo, the devoted man Riley longed for in her life.

To Maya, this role fit Riley perfectly. They shared the same hopeful innocence, the same physical traits, and both had their sights set on a charming boy with a bit of experience. In some ways, Maya found it laughable how many similarities they had. Yet, she couldn’t help feeling the weight of playing the opposite of herself—the girl who, in every classic love story, would be the complication, the challenge, never the ideal. Even Shakespeare favored Riley's idealized version of love, while Maya felt like an outsider to that kind of fairy tale.

After spending the entire afternoon immersed in their research—watching ballet performances, scenes from various productions, and testing out lines—the girls were spent. If their search history was anything to go by, they were more than prepared for the audition.

Maya had corrected Riley’s monologue a few times, offering her tips she’d found online, pretending they were bits of wisdom passed down from her mother. Of course, she made up a lame excuse for why her mom couldn’t help directly, and Riley, ever trusting, bought it. As always. But Maya's conscience gnawed at her, torturing her because Riley deserved better than the lies she fed her.

“How about this: ‘Oh Romeo, Oh Romeo! Oh Romeo!!’” Riley tried out different voices, ranging from theatrical to over-the-top.

“The second one,” Maya answered, eyeing Riley’s possible audition outfits. Riley was caught between a flowing white dress, perfect for the angelic Juliet, or a bohemian shirt inspired by ’90s fashion.

“Dinner’s ready!” Topanga’s voice echoed down the hallway, followed by a squeaky agreement and a loud thud. Auggie had spent some time watching clips with them but had long since abandoned the girls in favor of his superhero toys and Mr. Googly.

As they joined the family for dinner, Maya’s stomach grumbled at the sight of mashed potatoes, roasted chicken, and steamed asparagus, all drizzled with a creamy garlic sauce. The rich aroma filled her senses, and for a moment, she allowed herself to relish the pleasures of this place.

“So, what have you girls been up to all afternoon?” Mr. Matthews asked, slicing into his food.

“We’ve been rehearsing for this year’s play. I’m auditioning for Juliet,” Riley explained, her eyes sparkling as she took a sip from her water glass.

“And you, Maya? Are you auditioning for a role too?” Topanga asked gently, her curiosity piqued.

“Riley made a bet with Farkle, and now I have to try out, too.” Maya shrugged, offering a small, mischievous smile.

“Which role are you going for?” Mr. Matthews asked, his focus shifting to her.

“Juliet,” Maya answered simply.

A quiet tension settled over the table, even Auggie’s chewing stilled for a moment.

“How are you girls going to handle it if one of you gets the part?” Mr. Matthews asked with the kind of dad wisdom that cut straight to the heart of the matter.

“We both worked really hard, so it’s fair either way,” Riley answered with sincerity. “Maya’s really good. I could totally see her getting the role.”

Maya shot her friend a grateful look, feeling the familiar warmth of Riley’s constant support.

“Riley’s the one who convinced all of us to audition for bigger roles. If anyone deserves it, it’s her. I’d be glad if Ms. Walker picked her,” Maya said softly, trying to suppress the gnawing guilt underneath her words.

“Knowing you girls, I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to make it work,” Mr. Matthews reassured them, shifting the conversation to focus on Auggie and his day.

For just a moment, Maya allowed herself to pretend—pretend that this was her life. Coming home to a warm meal, light-hearted conversations, loving parents, and a sense of safety. But deep down, she knew better. This dream world could only exist as long as her friendship with Riley stayed intact. If Maya ever hurt her, ever jeopardized that bond, this sanctuary would vanish. How convenient that her happiness hinged entirely on keeping things perfect between them.

And as much as she tried to deny it, the weight of that knowledge stayed with her, even in these fleeting moments of comfort. She couldn’t allow herself to mess it up, not for a grade, not for a bad day, and certainly not for a boy. She couldn’t afford to slip, even for a second.

22:02. Saturday. September 28^th. Maya’s studio.

Maya heard the front door slam open, the sound reverberating through the thin walls of the apartment. Her mother stumbled inside, bags jingling like ominous bells. The smell of alcohol hit Maya’s nose before her mother even entered the room. Maya’s grip tightened on her pencil as she sat at the kitchen table, her homework spread out in front of her. Every muscle in her body tensed, waiting for what was coming.

Her mother’s voice echoed through the studio, sharp and uneven, words slurred together in a half-greeting. “I’m heeere!” She kicked off her shoes carelessly, sending one flying against the wall with a dull thud.

Maya tried to focus on the math problems in front of her, pretending to be invisible, hoping that if she stayed quiet enough, her mother might leave her alone. But that was wishful thinking.

"Look what I got!" Her mother held up the clinking bags like trophies, laughing as though the weight of the world didn’t rest on Maya’s shoulders. She staggered into the kitchen, one of the bags swinging wide and knocking over a stack of dishes. Glass shattered on the floor, making Maya flinch.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t dare. Her mother ignored the broken pieces, moving toward the table where Maya sat. The orange drink in her mother’s hand sloshed over the rim of the glass, and in one careless move, it spilled across Maya’s math book, soaking the pages in sticky liquid.

“Oh oops!" her mother giggled, as if it were all part of some twisted joke. The sour smell of alcohol and citrus filled the room, overpowering everything else.

Maya stared down at her ruined homework, the ink running, her carefully written numbers blurring into an incomprehensible mess. Her chest tightened, a small gasp catching in her throat, but she refused to cry.

Her mother cackled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, completely oblivious to the destruction she’d just caused. “It’s just a lil’ drink! Wipe it out… It’ll be gone."

Maya could feel her heart pounding in her ears, each beat vibrating through her skull. She kept her arms steady, though inside, everything was shaking.

Her mother’s smile faded, replaced by a mocking sneer. “Since when do you care about homework? Huh?” She swayed, knocking over a chair as she reached for another drink from the bag.

Maya clenched her fists under the table. The familiar feeling of helplessness crept over her, suffocating, like hands tightening around her throat. She wanted to scream, to push back, but she couldn’t. What good would it do?

"You should be grateful, Maya," her mother continued, voice thick with intoxication. “I kept you isn’t that enough?” She took another long sip, spilling more of the orange liquid on the floor.

Maya swallowed hard, biting back the urge to say anything that might set her off further. It wasn’t worth it. Arguing with her mother never ended well.

Suddenly, her mother’s eyes narrowed, focusing in on Maya like a predator spotting wounded prey. She leaned in closer, her breath reeking of alcohol and stale cigarettes. "You think you could have done better than me? Take a look at yourself, You’re just like me!" She slammed her hand on the table, rattling the dishes and sending another splash of liquid onto Maya’s clothes.

Maya’s heart raced, a cold sweat breaking out along her spine. Her mother’s voice had taken on that dangerous edge, the one that meant things could turn ugly fast. She glanced toward the door, silently calculating her escape route, but knew it was pointless.

Her mother’s mood shifted again, her anger fading just as quickly as it had flared. Now, she was laughing, stumbling back from the table, nearly tripping over her own feet. “You heard me alright.” She grabbed one of the broken bottles from the bag, waving it around as she teetered toward the couch.

Maya sat frozen, her mind racing, panic rising in her chest. She couldn’t take it anymore—the unpredictability, the constant chaos. She wasn’t safe here. She had never been.

Her mother was still talking, slurring nonsense as she dropped onto the couch, but Maya barely heard her. Her thoughts were spinning too fast. She needed to fix this—her homework, her life. But how? She didn’t have time to rewrite the ruined math assignment, and there was no way she could focus in this hellish environment. She glanced at the sticky mess on her math book and then at her phone on the table.

Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the screen and typed a message to the only person who owned enough paper to make a new work appear out of thin air.

‘I need your help,’ she sent to Farkle, hoping he wouldn’t press for details.

His response came immediately: ‘Yes, anything!’

Maya stared at the screen, her heart sinking even further. She didn’t want to rely on him, didn’t want to owe him anything, but what choice did she have?

Her mother, now passed out on the couch, muttered something incoherent in her sleep. The studio was eerily quiet, save for the occasional drunken murmur and the metro railings. But Maya knew this calm wouldn’t last long. It never did.

As she typed out the details to save her homework, asking Farkle for help, she felt a deep sense of dread settle over her. This was her life, a constant state of damage control, always trying to stay one step ahead of the next disaster. And tonight was just another reminder that there was no escape, no safe place to hide.

Her only hope was to keep moving, to keep her head down and survive. But as she hit send on the message, a dark thought crept into her mind: How long could she keep pretending that she was okay? How much longer could she hold it all together before everything finally crumbled beyond repair?

22:27. Saturday. September 28^th. New York streets.

Walking late at night in a never-sleeping city was dangerous for most kids her age. But for Maya, it had become second nature. Better to slip into the shadows of an alley, where the streetlights barely reached, than to stay in that apartment—risking the leering gaze or inappropriate touch of one of the men her mother brought home.

The city at night had its own rules, and Maya knew them all too well. She hugged the edges of the sidewalk, keeping her head low, her steps quick but careful. The occasional passerby didn’t pay her much mind—just another kid out too late in a place that swallowed people whole. At least out here, in the urban jungle, she had control. Out here, there were no empty bottles being hurled across the room, no slurred insults, no apologies that would never come.

She felt safer out here, where the streets had a pulse and the neon lights flickered like heartbeats. There was something freeing about the anonymity, about blending into the concrete, the steel, and the grime. She didn’t have to pretend to be anyone but herself. She didn’t have to be strong for anyone. Here, she could just walk—walk and forget, even if just for a little while.

A gust of wind pushed her forward, and Maya pulled her jacket tighter around her. The thin fabric did little to block out the cold, but it didn’t matter. She was used to the discomfort. It was better than the alternative—better than sitting in the dingy apartment, trying to drown out the noise of her mother’s drunken ramblings or the sound of glass shattering against the walls. The city may have been unforgiving, but it was more predictable than the chaos she called home.

Maya's steps echoed faintly against the quiet streets, the rhythm of her hurried pace beating like a frantic heartbeat. Her flight instinct had fully taken over now—getting away was the only thing that made sense. Anywhere, so long as her mother couldn’t find her. The adrenaline pumped through her veins, making her legs move faster than her thoughts. She wasn’t just running from her mother’s drunken rage; she was running from the reality she’d been trapped in for far too long.

She turned off the main road, moving into a neighborhood where the most dangerous thing was an occasional cigarette butt left on the pavement. Here, the houses were well-kept, the lawns trimmed, the lights glowing softly through windows like scenes from a life she could never touch. She quickened her pace, heading deeper into the quiet night, as if the safety of these clean streets could protect her from the chaos she’d left behind.

Farkle had only known part of the story—that her homework had been ruined by a careless spill. He had promised to print out new pages so she could redo her work tomorrow. It was her best shot at staying off the principal's radar, avoiding another mark on her file. Maya knew she was already skating on thin ice with the school, one misstep away from expulsion. The thought made her stomach turn.

She thought about Juliet—naïve, innocent Juliet. A girl whose worst tragedy was falling for the wrong boy from the wrong family. Juliet wouldn’t have lasted a day in Maya’s world. Neither would Romeo. Those two had been born into luxury, into privilege, into the security of family names and legacies that stretched back generations. Their only curse had been love, as if love was something they couldn’t have just walked away from.

A stupid cliché, Maya thought bitterly. Love wasn’t like that. Love wasn’t grand gestures and tragic endings. It wasn’t poetry and roses and stolen kisses. It was vicious, vindictive, and lonely. It was a weapon used to hurt. Her mother had told her she loved her once, but there was always a price attached to that word. Always something she had to give up in return for hearing it. Maybe that was why Maya didn’t believe in love. Not the way people like Riley did.

She walked until her feet hurt, the blisters forming under her worn sneakers a small price to pay for staying out of her mother's reach. The night grew colder, and the streets more deserted. Every time a police car turned a corner, her heart leapt into her throat. If they saw her, they’d ask questions. What was a thirteen-year-old girl doing out alone so late? The last thing she needed was for them to bring her back home. Back to her mother. Or worse, to alert someone from social services. Getting sent away to foster care was her biggest fear. That or losing the only thread of family she had left.

Maya considered going to the Matthews' house. She could probably hide out there for a few hours. But she knew she couldn’t keep relying on them. They’d start asking questions, and once they did, they might call someone. They might think they were helping, but Maya didn’t want help—not the kind that could end with her being taken away. Foster care, group homes... the thought chilled her more than the cold air biting at her skin.

She’d already used up her share of "emergency stays" at the shelters that welcomed kids in trouble. A night or two of warmth, a meal, a bed—that’s all those places could offer. But Maya had been there too many times before. Returning now would only raise suspicions. They’d start asking if things at home were getting worse, and she couldn’t risk the attention. She didn’t want anyone prying into her life, into her mother’s drinking, into the broken mess of her home.

Adults were always too eager to fix things that didn’t belong to them.

The streetlights flickered as she kept walking, casting long shadows that danced along the pavement. Each step felt heavier than the last, but she couldn’t stop. Not until she knew it was safe. Not until she was far enough away that her mother couldn’t find her, even if she tried. Maya swallowed back the fear that was gnawing at her insides, the same fear she’d lived with for years.

00:37. Sunday. September 29^th. New York streets.

Maya’s feet had carried her to familiar ground, the very place she’d tried so hard to avoid. Funny how obsessively preventing yourself from doing something usually led you right to it. And here she was, standing at the edge of the park near Lucas’ neighborhood. The last thing she wanted was to be physically close to him—her mind screamed against it—but her body had brought her here anyway, unconsciously dragging her through the city’s labyrinth. She hadn’t planned a route; she had simply followed the least troubling path, the one that offered the least chance of being seen.

The night was heavy with clouds, making everything seem darker, more oppressive. The streetlights barely cut through the thick mist in the air, casting eerie shadows on the sidewalk. Her phone was nearly dead, tucked deep in her jacket pocket, barely a lifeline left. The battery bar blinked with a red warning, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn it on. What would be the point? She wasn’t going to call anyone.

She told herself she’d head back in a few hours—once her mother was too drunk to realize Maya was there, passed out cold on the couch. She’d done it before, hiding in plain sight, waiting for her mother’s unconsciousness to take hold, and then slipping through the cracks unnoticed. It would be fine. She just needed to keep breathing.

But the memory of the studio, littered with piles of empty bottles like forgotten trophies, gnawed at her. She’d tried to clean them up once, thinking maybe, just maybe, it would help. But it hadn’t. The next day had only been worse. It was as though her mother found solace in the chaos, a reminder of how broken everything was.

Maya pushed the thoughts away, shoving them into the neat little box she had constructed in her mind over the years. She looked out at the empty park. The cold wooden bench she sat on made her shiver. Her eyes wandered to the apartment windows surrounding the park, some glowing with the soft, golden light of homes where families lived. Where people were safe. Where love, real love, wasn’t something twisted or used as a weapon. Some of the windows were dark and shadowed, closed off, like secrets kept hidden. Others exposed the soft glow of bedrooms, and she could almost guess the distant conversations behind the curtains.

The city was buzzing in the background, miles ahead, a pulsating energy that felt a world away. New York City—the loneliest place on earth, and yet always full of people.

The sound of a car engine rumbling nearby startled her, pulling her out of her thoughts. She hadn’t heard it approaching, too lost in her own head. It wasn’t until the engine turned off and the door creaked open that she realized someone was there.

“Maya, sweetie? What are you doing here at this hour?”

Juliette Friar’s soft voice cut through the night like a lifeline. She was standing by her parked car, her auburn hair catching the faint light from the streetlamp, dressed in a cozy-looking coat, with a beige scarf wrapped around her neck.

Maya’s heart clenched. She wasn’t supposed to be seen. She wasn’t supposed to need help. But now, with someone looking at her with such concern, the dam broke. All the fear, the anger, the exhaustion she’d been holding in —everything came crashing down.

Without warning, tears flooded her eyes. She tried to hold them back, to swallow them down like she always did, but it was too much. Her whole body trembled, and the sobs came, uncontrollable, shaking her to her core.

Juliette rushed over, pulling Maya into her arms without hesitation. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here,” she whispered softly, her voice gentle and warm. The embrace felt like a shield, something Maya hadn’t known she needed until that moment. The warmth of Juliette’s body against hers made the coldness of the night seem distant, irrelevant. Maya’s sobs quieted as she melted into the comfort, her head resting against the woman’s chest.

For once, she didn’t have to be strong. She didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. Juliette held her tight, her arms wrapping around Maya like a promise. In that moment, Maya could let go. She didn’t have to fight. She didn’t have to run. She was safe.

Juliette stroked Maya’s hair softly, murmuring reassurances. “It’s okay. You’re not alone. You’re safe now.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Maya believed it. The park, the cold, the city—it all faded away. All that mattered was the warmth of those arms around her and the gentle voice reminding her that, even in her darkest moments, she wasn’t completely alone.

People had it worse, Maya reminded herself. She just needed a break, just a little bit of rest. Arms that would hold her tight, not letting go, until the weight of everything pressing on her chest disappeared. “Would you like to come in and rest?” Juliette’s voice was so inviting, but Maya shook her head no. She couldn’t. Not this time. Not like this. Seeing Lucas in this state—at this hour—was crossing a line too dangerous to risk.

Her throat tightened, refusing to cooperate as silent tears spilled down her cheeks and slipped onto her neck, soaking into her already messy clothes. Maya wiped the salty wetness away with the back of her palms, her sleeves scraping against the delicate skin. It stung, but she didn’t care. She just needed to pull it together, to stop breaking down in front of someone who wasn’t supposed to see her like this. Breathing in and out, trying to gain control, she fought to clear her head.

Juliette, sensing the hesitation, took a step closer. “I was out with my new coworkers,” she said, her voice low and reassuring. “I’m sure the boys are already asleep, and I can make sure nobody asks any questions. It’ll just be us. You don’t have to worry.”

But Maya shook her head again, her body trembling with the force of her refusal. The mere thought of facing Lucas, red-eyed and blotchy from crying, made her stomach churn. The idea of walking into their home, a mess of emotions and fear, in front of his family—the humiliation alone was unbearable. She didn’t deserve their kindness, not like this. Not when she felt so broken.

Juliette noticed the fear in Maya’s eyes, the way she kept shaking her head no, over and over. But she wasn’t going to give up on the girl standing before her, not when she looked so lost.

“Maya,” Juliette said gently, stepping in front of her, “it’s okay to need help. You don’t have to be strong all the time. You’re not a burden.” She crouched down a bit, trying to catch Maya’s eye. “If you need to talk, or if you just want to sit somewhere warm, you can come in. It will be my pleasure, alright?”

Maya swallowed hard, her body betraying her mind as the tears kept falling. She wanted to say no. She wanted to run, to hide, to pretend she could handle everything on her own like she always had. But the exhaustion was creeping in. Her legs felt weak, her heart heavy, and the cold of the night had started to seep into her bones. She didn’t want to admit it, but a part of her craved the comfort she hadn’t had in so long. A place to feel safe.

“I don’t want to be a problem,” Maya finally whispered, her voice shaky.

“You’re not a problem, sweetie,” Juliette said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I promise.”

Maya hesitated, her mind racing with all the ways this could go wrong. What if Lucas woke up? What if his siblings saw her like this and pitied her? What if she could never look at them again without feeling embarrassed? But all those fears faded as she looked into Juliette’s eyes, so full of understanding and care, and something in her cracked just a little more.

She nodded. Just once. Barely more than a twitch of her head. But it was enough.

Juliette smiled gently, standing up and holding out her hand. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Maya didn’t take her hand, but she followed her anyway, trailing behind like a shadow. As they walked toward the front door, her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of fear and relief swirling in her gut. The warmth of the house hit her the moment the door opened, and for the first time in a long time, Maya let herself breathe. Just for a second.

Chapter Text

00:55. Sunday. September 29^th. Lucas' house.

Propped on the sofa, wrapped in a cozy mahogany blanket, and a plushy pillow tucked under her arm, Maya felt warmth slowly creeping into her body, melting away the night’s chills. The embarrassment still lingered on her cheeks, but it was fading, softened by the comfort of her surroundings. The room was dimly lit by a lamp on the side table, casting a yellow glow that made the living room feel intimate —like the world outside couldn’t reach her. Juliette had placed a glass of water within arm’s reach, giving Maya the much-needed space to collect herself without pushing too hard.

As expected, the house was quiet, none of the boys were out of their rooms, and no sign of Grant. It felt peaceful.

“How are you feeling?” Juliette asked softly, her voice full of concern. Maya glanced up at her, still feeling a little awkward, but there was something about the older woman’s gentle presence that soothed her. She was playing the role of the caring mother with such grace, and Maya almost wished this was what her own life could be like.

“Better, thank you,” Maya murmured, though her voice betrayed her lingering anxiety. She pulled the blanket tighter around her, as if it could shield her from everything she’d just gone through. Juliette frowned slightly, noticing the tension still clinging to her, but she didn’t push.

“Would you like to talk about it?” she asked, her tone soft but probing.

Maya knew this was coming and dreaded it. She bit her lip, trying to come up with an explanation, something believable that wouldn’t raise too many questions. But the words wouldn’t come. Her mind, overwhelmed by the night’s events, was blank. The more she fought to think of a lie, the harder it became to hold back the tears that were once again threatening to spill.

Juliette watched her, her expression thoughtful, as if she could see the battle Maya was fighting within herself. There was a pause, the air heavy with unspoken words, but then Juliette leaned back slightly and smiled.

“Hey, it’s fine,” she said kindly. “You don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready. How about we just relax for a bit, change the subject?”

The relief that flooded Maya’s chest was immediate. She gave a small nod, grateful for the out. Juliette reached for the remote and turned the TV on, setting the volume low so it wouldn’t disturb the quiet peace of the house.

“What kind of shows do you like to watch?” she asked, glancing back at Maya.

Maya shrugged. “I don’t know,” she answered quietly. When she and Riley hung out, they usually stuck to the same few romances and mystery shows, but nothing felt appealing right now.

“Well, what about something different?” Juliette suggested, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “You know, my boys watch a lot of anime,” she added with a mischievous grin, leaning in like she was about to tell a secret.

Maya raised an eyebrow. “Anime?” she repeated, a little unsure. Wasn’t that for nerds? Maya knew Farkle was a big lover of manga and anime, and everything the boy seemed to love, was generally correlated to a geeky thing.

“I know, I know,” Juliette laughed. “But trust me, some of it is really good. It’s not all silly cartoons. Some of it is surprisingly deep…. dark, even.” She gave Maya a half smile. “How about it? Want to try something new?”

It was strange being here, in Lucas’s house, knowing he could walk in at any moment on her and his mother, but she trusted Juliette. She had a way of making things feel okay. Maya hesitated for a second, but slowly, she nodded.

“Alright, we’ll start with one of the classics. Ever heard of Naruto?”

“Yeah,” Maya said, her voice still quiet. She’d heard of it, but never really thought about watching it herself. A blurry image of a blond boy wearing horrible orange overalls popped in her head.

“Don’t make that face,” Juliette chuckled. “I promise it’s worth it. It’s about ninjas, but there’s much more to it. Trust me, by the time we’re done, you’ll be hooked.”

With a smile, Juliette pressed play, and the familiar narration filled the room. Maya pulled the blanket tighter around her, sinking deeper into the plush pillow. The soft hum of the TV, ninja fights and Juliette’s comforting presence made the weight in her chest a little lighter. They watched in comfortable silence, the story unfolding before them, an orphan boy overcoming the expectations of his peers, despite his upbringing, Naruto was a beam of optimism and endurance. As the images passed, and the music settled the mood, Maya allowed herself to relax.

As the night wore on and the episodes played one after the other, the tension in Maya’s body slowly melted away. The warmth from the blanket and the soft cushion against her cheek made it hard to stay awake. Her eyelids grew heavier with each passing minute until, finally, she drifted off to sleep, safe, and for now, at peace.

08:56. Sunday. September 29^th. Lucas' house.

“Don’t wake her up,” a hushed voice warned, stern but gentle. “Don’t ask questions. And don’t bother her.” Juliette was laying down the rules to four bewildered boys, all staring at the small figure curled up on the living room couch—Maya, fast asleep, wrapped tightly in a heavy blanket like a cocoon. Her body was tucked into itself, peaceful and still. Her face relaxed as if the weight of the world had finally lifted.

The boys and their father, who had been rudely awoken at dawn by their mother. They were trying to understand the situation. Usually, Sunday mornings were for lounging around, sleeping in, and the occasional sibling squabble, but today the air in the house was different. There was an underlying energy—a quiet but palpable sense of curiosity and concern. They nodded in unison as their mother moved on, quietly preparing breakfast, her focus split between making sure Maya stayed asleep and orchestrating the day ahead.

Juliette didn’t need to explain everything to the boys, but they could feel it—Maya was going through something. She had shown up at their doorstep late in the night, looking worn and frayed around the edges. Juliette had a strong suspicion about what had driven her there. She saw it in Maya’s eyes the first time they met, that haunted look of a girl with too much on her shoulders. That same look had now brought her into their home, and that Juliette was determined to make go away for a few hours, even if it meant shuffling her entire family around.

As Maya slept, Grant had already started tidying up. Usually, he was the last one up on a Sunday, but today was different. “Time for chores,” he muttered, half to himself as he moved about, picking up stray homework and wiping down surfaces.

The boys, too, were put to work, though their usual laziness was replaced by a quiet enthusiasm. Jake was the first to get shushed, his voice creeping out with a “Where did she—” before being quickly cut off by a sharp finger to the lips from Lucas. He grinned sheepishly, grabbing a broom and heading off to clean up their shared bedroom, still buzzing with curiosity about the unexpected guest.

Lucas was relocated to silently scrubbing the toilet. His thoughts preoccupied with Maya. He didn’t need to ask questions to know she must’ve been going through something serious, but his mind buzzed with concern. Was she okay? What had brought her here? He worked quickly, trying not to let his thoughts slow him down. Strangely, a wave of relief shook Lucas' shoulders as he stood there, staring at the quiet form of Maya curled up on the couch from the bathroom view.

She had come to him. The thought stirred something deep inside him, but it was immediately followed by a pang of guilt. He’d been asleep, completely unaware she had needed him. What if something had happened? His fists clenched harder at the thought. The idea that she had been out there, in the dark, without anyone to protect her made his chest tighten. Yet, mixed with the guilt was a feeling he couldn't shake. She was here, in his house, tucked in under his blanket. A strange comfort settled over him, knowing that in this moment, she was safe and with him. He felt an overwhelming need to keep it that way, to make sure nothing ever hurt her again.

Micheal, the oldest of the bunch, was helping their mom out in the kitchen. He glanced toward the living room every so often, eyes flicking to Maya's still form, but quickly looked away whenever his mom noticed. Nobody wanted to break the spell, because they knew that as soon as the girl woke up, she might try to get away.

Even with the need for silence, there was a subtle hum of life in the house. The boys moved with curious excitement, keeping their voices low. The smell of fresh pancakes filled the air, along with bacon, toasts and butter, as the sun began to rise over their neighbourhood. As the house bustled with quiet activity, Maya slept on, dreaming of another world, where she wasn’t completely alone walking in desolate streets.

10:00. Sunday. September 29^th. Lucas' house.

Maya’s eyes snapped open the moment she heard a loud crash. Her heart leaped into her throat as the unmistakable sound of shattering glass rang through the air. She froze, her pulse racing, quickly scanning her surroundings in a daze. This wasn’t her home studio.

A large sectional couch sprawled across most of the living room, with a sleek coffee table in front of it, and a mounted wall TV neatly framed by rows of video games and DVDs. The warm hues of the morning light filtered in through half-drawn curtains, casting a soft glow on the modern decor. It was cozy yet unfamiliar. Her breath hitched—this wasn’t her space.

Beside her, on a side table, sat a lamp, a half-empty glass of water, and a few scattered magazines. As Maya’s eyes drifted toward the kitchen, the muffled hum of laughter and chatter floated in, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and something buttery filling the air. She slowly turned her head, her gaze meeting a pair of familiar blue eyes across the room.

Oh.

Lucas was watching her, leaning casually against his chair, his lips curved into a quiet smile. One of his brothers had dropped a plastic cup, not glass, as she’d feared. The relief that washed over her softened her features. The entire family was gathered around the kitchen table, engrossed in conversation over breakfast.

“Hey, Maya! Come join us!” Grant called out with a welcoming grin, his voice breaking through the background noise like a wave of warmth.

Maya’s cheeks flushed, a deep red blossoming on her face. She was embarrassed that she’d slept so deeply in someone else’s home. As she hurriedly unwrapped the blanket that had cocooned her, she realized she was still in her clothes from the day before. She shifted awkwardly, feeling the fabric stick to her skin as she sat up, the subtle ache of stiffness in her limbs reminding her just how exhausted she’d been.

Juliette rose from the table and made her way toward her, her steps light and her expression soft. She left the boys to continue their hushed conversation.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Juliette greeted her warmly, her voice a gentle murmur as though trying not to overwhelm Maya.

“Hey,” Maya croaked, her throat scratchy from sleep.

Juliette’s kind smile deepened, her eyes understanding. “Would you like to take a shower and change into something else? I’ll ask Lucas to lend you some clothes. You’ll feel much better once you’ve had a chance to freshen up.”

“I think I should just go,” Maya said, standing up quickly and glancing around for her missing sock, “but thank you for last night.”

“Have breakfast with us at least,” Juliette motioned to the table, where a plate had been set aside for Maya.

“I…” Maya’s protest was cut short by the loud rumble of her stomach.

Juliette’s features lit up with a chuckle. “See? Staying a little longer won’t kill you. Come on, follow me.” She led Maya down the hallway.

Juliette led Maya down a hallway to a small, private room. The space was modest yet comfortable. Cream-colored walls glowed softly in the morning light filtering through the half-shaded window. The carpet beneath her feet was plush, muffling her footsteps as they approached a small but cozy room. There was a sense of peace in this corner of the house. This was the master’s bedroom, Juliette’s space.

“This is your space for now,” Juliette said with a gentle smile. “The boys aren’t allowed in here, so you’ll have some privacy. Take a shower, wash your face, or brush your teeth—whatever you need. I’ll bring you a fresh toothbrush and some clothes.”

Maya peeked inside the private bathroom adjoining the room, its tiled floor spotless and a stack of clean towels perched by the sink. The scent of lavender lingered in the air from a reed diffuser on the counter.

A few moments later, Juliette returned with a bundle in her arms. She placed it on the bed: a bright green toothbrush, a pair of white socks, an oversized Chicago Bulls t-shirt, and a pair of basketball shorts. “These should fit,” she said with a wink before leaving Maya to her privacy.

As the water cascaded over her in the shower, Maya began to feel the weight of exhaustion slip from her shoulders. The steam swirled around her, enveloping her in warmth. After toweling off, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, chuckling at the sight. The shirt hung down to her thighs, and the shorts felt like they could belong to a giant. The socks reached her knees, adding to the comical appearance. But despite the odd fit, there was a strange comfort in wearing clothes that weren’t her own. It was like stepping into someone else’s life for a moment.

Ten minutes later, Maya was back at the kitchen table, still a little awkward, her fingers toying with the edge of her pre-filled plate set by Juliette. The boys had scattered—Jake was absorbed in a video game, his controller clutched tightly in his hands, while Michael lay sprawled across the couch, silently competing alongside him. The distant clinking of dishes came from the kitchen, where Juliette was humming to herself as she tidied up.

There was a comfortable quietness in the air, and Maya couldn’t help but feel a sense of self-consciousness, knowing the boys were giving her space. Yet, at the same time, she was grateful for it. She had half a mind to leave, to escape back to the mess of her own world, but something about this home—this family—made her want to linger just a little longer.

“Hey, I brought you this,” Lucas said, appearing beside her with a smile. In one hand, he held out a phone charger, and in the other, a plate of food. “Thought you might need to recharge.”

“Thanks,” Maya muttered as she plugged the charger into the nearest socket, watching her phone blink to life.

“Farkle’s been asking if we’ve heard anything from you,” Lucas said with a serious glint in his face. “Want me to respond?”

Maya shook her head. “I’ll take care of it.”

Lucas sat down beside her, keeping her company as she ate, eating his own half-empty plate. They exchanged a few quiet comments about the boys’ competitive gaming, their voices soft amid the clatter of controllers and occasional shouts from Jake and Michael. The easy silence between them was surprisingly comforting.

As Maya finished the last piece of her pancakes, Jake’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Do you play video games, Maya?”

She shook her head, half smiling. “Not really.”

“We could play Mario Kart,” Michael chimed in, pointing at the game in their collection. “Should be easy to pick up.”

Maya glanced at Lucas, who grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Think you can keep up?”

“Easy peasy, Huckleberry,” she shot back, her competitive edge kicking in.

Jake’s voice rang out with mock warning. “Better watch out, Maya. He’s not as innocent as he looks when it comes to gaming.”

Juliette’s voice cut through the kitchen, full of concern. “Boys, don’t pester her with your games! Maya, don’t feel like you have to play if you don’t want to.”

But Maya found herself smiling as she approached the couch. “I want to,” she said, surprising even herself.

Lucas took his seat next to her, tossing the remotes on the couch, explaining the controls as his brothers set up the game. He walked her through the characters and vehicles, quietly suggesting which ones might help her win, but there was a playful gleam in his eye that told her he wasn’t going to go easy on her.

The race started, and Maya’s kart careened into every possible obstacle. Corners, walls, bananas and other npc racers all seemed to conspire against her. Meanwhile, Jake, Michael, and Lucas easily took the lead, zipping around the track with practiced ease. Her frustration grew as she struggled to get the hang of it, but she couldn’t help but laugh along with their teasing.

“You said the mushroom cup was the easiest!” Maya exclaimed, shooting a glare at Lucas, who barely suppressed a grin.

“It is—for us,” Lucas said, sticking his tongue out at her.

Time passed in a blur of playful banter and lighthearted competition. Maya was losing horribly, but it didn’t matter. The boys’ teasing felt more like an invitation than a judgment, and for the first time in a long while, she forgot what was happening at home. The conversation shifted from the game to their favorite shows, music, and even a hilarious debate about Michael’s questionable taste in heavy metal.

By the time she remembered her plans with Farkle, Juliette had already washed and dried her clothes. The hours had flown by, and despite herself, Maya had barely thought about the chaos awaiting her at home.

“Thanks for everything,” Maya said, her voice more genuine than she expected as she waved goodbye at the door.

“Wait up!” Lucas called, catching up to her and pulling her into a hug that took her by surprise. His arms wrapped around her, firm yet gentle, the scent of fresh laundry and a faint trace of his odor surrounding her. For a moment, Maya let herself relax into the warmth, her breath hitching as she realized how close they were. His heart thudded softly against her, and for just a second, time stood still.

“Come back anytime, ma’am,” he said, his southern drawl thick as he let her go, the teasing twinkle still in his eyes.

Thanking the family again, feeling rejuvenated, Maya walked through the bustling streets. Passing by street artists, merchants, and boutique shops, with a bounce in her step she had often associated with her best friend, her thoughts still lingering on the events of the morning.

Chapter Text

14:17. Sunday. September 29th. Daisy’s Coffee Shop.

The golden afternoon sunlight filtered through the café windows. By the time Maya reached the entrance, the crisp autumn breeze had tangled her curls. As she entered, the rich aroma of roasted coffee beans mingled with the sweet notes of pastries, filling the air with comfort and warmth. She spotted Farkle immediately, seated by the bay window, his gaze focused on her. As he saw her approach, his face lit up, his signature mischievous smirk stretching wide across his face.

“Hey!” he called out, his voice bright, welcoming.

“Farklicious,” Maya teased, giving him a mock salute as she walked over, her initial tension dissipating with each step.

“Mayasational,” he fired back, flashing a proud grin that made her laugh. The table was arranged, with two colourful drinks in the center, their colors contrasting beautifully against the earthy tones of the café. The late afternoon light fell in streaks across the table, casting soft shadows on the worn wood and making the drinks’ ice glistening.

Maya raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “So, do you have the goods?” she asked, her tone half-playful, half-serious.

Farkle leaned in with exaggerated drama, lowering his voice as if they were in the middle of some covert exchange. “I do, ma’am, but it’s not gonna come cheap this time,” he replied, adopting the gruff voice of an old-timey smuggler. The way he furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes made her burst into laughter.

Maya played along, slipping into a theatrical Southern drawl. “I’ve got a family to feed, my children are waitin’ at home. I’m just a humble woman tryin’ to get a little help.” She batted her eyelashes for effect.

With an exaggerated flourish, Farkle pulled a stack of papers from his bag, letting them drop onto the table with a dramatic thud. “There you go,” he said, grinning.

Maya chuckled, dropping the act as she took the seat next to him. “Thank you, Farkle,” she said, giving him a sincere smile as she glanced at the papers. It was a small gesture, but one she appreciated deeply.

“Here, I got us smoothies,” he announced, his voice returning to its usual upbeat tone. “Mango-peach for you, berry-banana for me.” He gestured to the yellow and lilac drinks on the table.

Maya raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What if I wanted the berry-banana?”

He shrugged with a playful smirk. “I’d take the other. You know how much I love peaches.”

“Thank you, sir,” Maya said, her tone half-teasing.

Farkle waved it off nonchalantly, though his warm expression betrayed how much he enjoyed helping her. “No big deal,” he replied, but the softness in his eyes hinted at his unspoken feelings.

The café hummed with soft conversations, the pair quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm, Maya flipping through the homework assignments as she began to work. The view from the window showed the leaves outside beginning to change, patches of red and gold dotting the sidewalk as they drifted from the trees, while customers came and went.

Meanwhile, Farkle had his script for the school play spread out before him. His brow furrowed as he scanned through his lines for Romeo, mumbling to himself under his breath. She could tell he was deeply engrossed, his concentration unwavering as he studied each phrase. There was a seriousness in his expression, a quiet determination that Maya rarely saw in him. It struck her how much effort he was pouring into it.

“Once you finish up, could you help me with my lines? I really need to nail this,” he said after a while, glancing at her.

“Sure,” Maya replied, amused. She already knew the lines by heart, having spent the previous afternoon rehearsing them with Riley. It wouldn’t be much trouble to go through them again, especially with Farkle, who somehow managed to make even the most mundane things interesting.

As she worked on the last of her homework, a familiar weight settled over her. The thought of auditioning for Juliet still loomed heavily in her mind. She hadn’t decided yet—would she give it her all or let the role slip by? There was a part of her that felt as though Juliet was already Riley’s role, and no matter how much she might try, she wouldn’t feel right stepping into it.

Her eyes drifted to Farkle, who was so focused on the script, mouthing lines to himself, eyes narrowed in concentration. He looked almost uncharacteristically serious, the playful Farkle she knew transformed into someone wholly determined and hopeful. He deserved a fair shot, that much was clear. She hadn’t seen Lucas practice yet, but she knew his confidence and natural charisma would make him a strong contender.

Maya twirled her pen between her fingers, lost in thought. She didn’t want to stand in the way of her friends, yet a small, stubborn part of her yearned to try out for the role, to see if she could bring her own spark to Juliet’s lines. It was a strange desire, one she hadn’t expected to feel so strongly.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Maya finally said, sliding the finished math sheet aside and sitting up straighter. She leaned across the table to grab Farkle’s script, her gaze meeting his.

He beamed, clearly grateful. “Thanks, Maya. I really appreciate it.”

She shrugged nonchalantly, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, Romeo…” she began, slipping into character with ease.

They rehearsed the lines, her earlier doubts fading away as she immersed herself in Juliet’s struggles. For now, it was just the two of them, friends sharing a script, without any pressure or expectations. The world outside faded, leaving only the softness of their voices and the familiar, comforting rhythm of their friendship.

12:02. Wednesday. October 2nd. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

The gang stood in a line outside the English classroom, the hallway buzzing with excitement and nerves as students prepared for the auditions. The stakes felt particularly high for the main roles, and the energy was palpable. Riley’s nervous energy was practically radiating off her in waves, like a tiny whirlwind barely contained. Her fingers fidgeted, tugging on the sleeves of her sweater as she glanced around anxiously. Beside her, Farkle stood tall, his posture carefully composed, projecting an aura of confidence that Maya knew was only surface-deep.

Maya could see the tension in his clenched jaw, the slight twitch in his fingers. He was masking it well, but she knew him too well to be fooled. He was just as nervous as the rest of them, maybe more. Yet, he held his ground, trying to show he was focused and determined. After all, as any actor knew, the audition didn’t begin when you stepped into the room; it began the moment you were in line.

As for Lucas, he seemed more at ease. His face, though betraying brief hints of nervousness, was mostly relaxed, his smile natural as he exchanged casual banter with a few classmates nearby. But his eyes were sharp, subtly assessing his surroundings, sizing up his competition. Maya knew he was already forming a plan, calculating his approach to give his best performance. Four boys were trying out for Romeo, five for Juliet, and their classmates Yogi, Jennifer, and Sarah were all in the mix as well.

“Maya Hart,” the teacher’s voice rang out, signaling her turn.

Maya took a deep breath, throwing a quick wave to her friends before stepping inside, her heart pounding. Part of her hoped for a sign—anything that would help her decide if she should truly try or let the opportunity slip away. Her gaze fell on Mrs. Walker, their English teacher, who was watching her with a neutral, almost cold expression. Mrs. Walker was known for her strictness, her high expectations, and the way she could look at students as though she already knew how they’d perform.

Mrs. Walker’s posture was rigid, her expression almost disapproving as she looked Maya over. Maya felt the weight of that stare, as though Mrs. Walker were silently questioning her presence here. A part of her wanted to turn around, to leave before this could go any further. But she clenched her fists, forcing herself to stand firm, grounding herself as she met the teacher’s gaze.

“I’m here for the Juliet part,” she announced, her voice steady, though a tremor of uncertainty ran through her.

“Go ahead,” Mrs. Walker replied curtly, her expression unchanged. The lack of encouragement only heightened Maya’s nerves, but she refused to let it show.

The room felt heavy, the silence thick, as if the air itself were waiting to judge her.

Now was the time to make a choice.

13:15. Friday. October 4th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

The bell rang, echoing down the crowded hallways of John Quincy Addams Middle School. The usual post-class chatter filled the air as students filed out of their rooms, some heading to their lockers, others rushing for the doors. Maya, Riley, lingered near their lockers, their conversation underscored by the tension of anticipation.

“She’s going to post the results after school. What do you think?” Riley asked, her eyes wide with both excitement and nervousness as she glanced over at Maya, who was busy stuffing her books into her backpack.

Maya shrugged, a casual expression that belied the swirl of emotions beneath the surface. “Je ne sais pas,” she replied, her face purposefully nonchalant.

Riley’s brow furrowed, her expression puzzled. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” Maya said with a smirk, enjoying Riley’s momentary confusion. She hoped that keeping things light would hide the flutter of nerves that had started to grow in her own stomach. Though she’d tried to convince herself she didn’t care about the role, the thought of seeing her name—or not—on that cast list had her heart doing somersaults.

She had tried. Back in that class, she’d given everything she had, pouring her heart into the role of Juliet, letting her emotions shine through in every word, every gesture. Maya had shown exactly what she was made of. Afterward, she’d joined her friends, easing Riley’s nerves with gentle reassurances and offering a few well-placed compliments to Farkle.

As they walked down the hall, Farkle caught up with them, looking more tense than usual. His normally bright face was pale, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead as he glanced nervously from one friend to the next. “Yo, guys, I’m feeling nauseous,” he groaned, clutching his stomach theatrically as if the mere thought of the cast list had made him sick.

Maya and Riley exchanged a knowing look, both amused and sympathetic. Farkle’s nerves were almost contagious.

“Did you check ‘yes’ on the ‘recasting if needed’ option on the form?” Farkle asked, his voice edged with apprehension as he looked at the girls, eyes wide.

“Of course! Who wouldn’t?” Riley replied emphatically, her voice almost as loud as her enthusiasm. “The only thing worse than not getting Juliet would be not getting a role at all.”

Farkle nodded solemnly, but his expression didn’t ease. They had all invested so much into these auditions—especially Farkle, who had been practicing lines and trying to embody the character of Benvolio with an intensity Maya rarely saw in him.

“What did I miss?” Lucas asked, sidling up to Maya as they reached their French classroom. Lucas had been noticeably absent during lunch that day, caught up in his duties as student council president, and the group had felt his absence.

Maya shrugged casually, trying to hide the pang of relief she felt at his presence. “Nothing much. They’re ranking the roles for the play,” she said, watching his face for any sign of nerves. His blue eyes held that familiar spark, but there was something quieter there, a focus she couldn’t quite place.

Lucas’s lips curved into a smirk, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that way that always seemed playful. “Sometimes, it’s the underdog who gets the standing ovation,” he said, his tone light but it made Maya pause.

Before she could respond, he turned to join Riley and Farkle, his expression softening as he slipped into their animated discussion with ease. Maya watched him, intrigued by how effortlessly he balanced his usual charm with a hint of mystery. She couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t show this side as often with the others.

As they took their seats in French class, Maya found herself distracted, her mind drifting back to Lucas’s comment. Was he trying to tell her something? Or maybe he was just being Lucas, impossible to pin down. Either way, the thought of it lingered, adding another layer to the swirl of emotions already tangled inside her.

15:46. Friday. October 4th. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

The last bell had rung, and students poured into the hallways, excited for the weekend. But for the gang the anticipation had reached its peak. They stood by their lockers, their excitement and nerves almost tangible as they prepared to head over to the bulletin board where the cast list would be posted.

Just as they started walking, Yogi, their energetic classmate, sprinted up to them, nearly skidding to a stop. “The cast list is up!” he announced, his voice filled with excitement. His presence only amplified the tension among the group.

Riley let out a huge exhale, visibly steeling herself. She squared her shoulders, her chin lifted. “Let’s go check it out!” she urged, her hand finding Maya’s arm as she practically dragged her friend forward, her excitement infectious.

Farkle rushed ahead, practically bouncing as he weaved through the crowd of students, while Lucas trailed behind, an amused expression on his face as he watched his friends barrel toward the board. Maya glanced over her shoulder at him, noticing the easy smile on his face, the way he seemed so collected compared to the rest of them.

Finally, they all gathered in front of the bulletin board, shoulder to shoulder, gazing at the crisp white sheet of paper pinned to the corkboard. Maya’s heart raced as her eyes scanned the list, her vision blurring slightly with nerves.

And then, her eyes found the names.

“Riley Matthews - Juliet,” it read in bold letters. Riley gasped beside her, her hand flying to her mouth as she processed the news. Maya felt a surge of pride for her friend, seeing her excitement radiate through her entire being.

Further down, she saw, “Lucas Friar - Romeo.” A small smile spread across her face as she glanced at Lucas, who gave a quiet nod, his face betraying a flicker of pride.

“Farkle Minkus - Benvolio.” Farkle’s face lit up, his usual bright demeanor momentarily subdued, yet visibly happy. For him, it was both an accomplishment and a bittersweet moment, knowing he had come close to landing a bigger role.

And then, Maya’s eyes fell on her own name. “Maya Hart – Narrator & Understudy”  She’d been cast as the narrator. It wasn’t a lead role, but the realization warmed her from the inside out. In a twist she hadn’t expected, she had also been named an understudy. The idea of stepping in as a replacement for Riley or a cast member was daunting.

The gang exchanged glances, their faces a mixture of pride, excitement, and—for some—a hint of disappointment. Riley squealed in delight, her voice filling the hallway as she hugged each of them in turn, unable to contain her happiness.

“I did it, Maya! I got the role!” Riley’s words burst out, her joy pure and infectious, lighting up her whole face.

“Congrats on the role,” Farkle managed, his voice tinged with admiration as he pulled her into a tight hug. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a silent wish for the moment to last, but he quickly released her, composing himself.

“Thanks! And you too—Benvolio is a big deal, almost as important as Romeo!” Riley’s words, though meant to uplift, hit a delicate nerve. The word “almost” seemed to linger, a subtle reminder of the role he hadn’t gotten. Farkle forced a smile, but for the briefest of moments, a shadow crossed his face, a flicker of frustration as he processed the reality of the situation.

Maya noticed the fleeting shift in his expression, the hint of disappointment that Farkle quickly masked. She knew he was proud of his role, but the sting of not quite reaching the lead had cut deeper than he’d admit.

And then, Lucas offered his congratulations, his voice calm and steady. He gave a few supportive words, but his excitement felt tempered, a quiet smile replacing his usual confident grin. After a moment, he excused himself, saying he had basketball practice. Maya watched him go, a faint pang of confusion mingling with her pride. Had he really cared about the roles? Or was something else on his mind?

Riley, oblivious to the subtleties around her, was on cloud nine, chattering excitedly about all the ways she would bring Juliet to life. She was already envisioning how the play would bring her and Lucas closer, her enthusiasm pouring out in waves. But Maya couldn’t ignore the fact that Lucas had practically dashed off the moment the cast list was revealed.

As Riley continued to ramble about her plans, Maya’s thoughts drifted to Lucas’s recent behavior. He’d been distant, quiet in a way she hadn’t seen before. Ever since her stay at his house, it felt like he’d put up a wall, drifting further away from their group, his once easygoing nature replaced by something more guarded.

Was it something she’d done? The thought lingered, a question that gnawed at her, stubborn and persistent. It seemed like everyone had a role, but Maya couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. As Riley’s laughter echoed in her ears, Maya tried to keep up, to stay grounded in her friend’s happiness. But the question remained, an uncomfortable whisper in the back of her mind. Had anything changed between her and Lucas? And why did it matter so much to her?

As they walked down the hallway, Maya stole one last glance over her shoulder, hoping to catch even the smallest clue by shamelessly letting her gaze linger on him. But her silent question remained unanswered.

He didn’t look back.

Chapter Text

6:33. Monday. September 2^nd. New York. Lucas’ house.

New York wasn’t what his parents had predicted.

Michael had started university, Jake was in high school, where Lucas was supposed to go.

Lucas groaned as his alarm buzzed far too early, dragging him out of a restless sleep. He slapped the clock to silence it, burying his face in the pillow. For a brief second, he entertained the idea of skipping the first day altogether, but that would only make things worse. With a sigh, he pushed himself out of bed, his feet landing on the cold wooden floor of his room.

His room was on the same level as the rest of the house, which he shared with Michael, though his brother would soon move to university residences and only visit on weekends. The floors creaked with every step, and no matter how many boxes they had opened, it seemed the double amount was waiting. Boxes were still stacked against the walls, his things labelled, from winter clothing to books and miscellaneous. His favorite basketball leaned in the corner, forgotten, alongside a pile of old trophies that felt like relics of a different life. He used to display them on a shelf, in his old bedroom, but here, the walls were as blank as his state.

He rummaged through a half-unpacked suitcase for a clean shirt, settling on a grey long sleeve one. The jeans he grabbed had been a gift from his mother after a shopping spree. As he pulled them on, his gaze lingered on the folded note his grandma had left for him before he left Dripping Springs: You show them, champ! He tossed it into his nightstand. He just didn’t have the energy to put up with optimism.

The smell of pancakes wafted through the air. His mom was bustling around the kitchen, her version of stress management. “You sure you don’t want me to drop you off?” Juliette asked as Lucas stepped into the room, her voice tinged with worry.

“Nope,” he muttered, grabbing a plate. He wasn’t a morning person, and this move hadn’t helped. He rolled a pancake into a roll and ate it silently, avoiding her gaze. She had become even more overbearing after the incident, always on his back for something.

“You’ve got everything? Metro card, schedule, map?” she pressed, placing a steaming mug of coffee on the counter for herself.

“I’ve got it,” Lucas replied, his voice flat. He finished his pancake, washed it down with orange juice.

The house was quiet except for the faint noise of his brothers preparing. His dad had already left for work, and Jake was in the bathroom. Waiting for his turn, he checked his phone for the messages his friends had left him.

‘Zay sent a gif’ was the last notification of his friend message group, wishing him a good first day. He sent back a few messages to wish them the same.

This would soon be over. His father had only accepted the job for a year, he’d soon be back in Dripping Springs, a city less than an hour away from the big bad Austin, and back with his friends.

Lucas had always been good with change. Thriving even, except, this one.

The air outside was warm but nothing like the usual breeze of Texas days. It was the kind of morning where the city’s energy overwhelmed one’s senses. Rows of brownstones lined the street, each identical to the next, except for the occasional pop of color on a door or window box. A small deli on the corner filled the air with the smell of meat and bread, mixing with the tang of car exhaust and faint garbage odors.

“Make sure you get lost. That way you have an excuse to be late,” Jake had teased him earlier, half-awake when Lucas was getting ready in the bathroom.

Michael had countered, “Quit giving bad advice. You’ll be fine. Make friends.”

Lucas snorted at the memory as he adjusted his bag on his shoulder. Fine. Sure. The truth was, he missed the stars. He missed the open fields and the feeling of dirt under his cleats. New York wasn’t bad—it was just loud, smelly, and unfamiliar. Worse than anything, it kept him away from Zay, Jo, Sam, and Tom—his friends, kept him away from Tungsten his horse, Molly the sheep, Kitty the dog, and his family.

At the corner, he scanned his metro pass, the turnstile clicking him through. He glanced at his phone to check the time. Seven minutes until the train. Just seven minutes, but in the city, seven minutes felt like a lifetime. The station was alive with motion: a man selling music, a woman curled up against the walls behind a sign saying: ‘Help! I have three kids’. It was too much to take in at once, and Lucas shifted uncomfortably, his fingers brushing against his empty pocket where he wished he had spare change.

Slight nausea crept over him, not from the stress of a new school, nor the sight or smell, but from saying goodbye to the life he once took for granted. He surely didn’t want to talk about it. What was there to say? He got expelled, got a new house, and got a new school. The end.

The metro finally arrived.

His mom had drilled the route into him on the second day after the move, showing where to get off for school. Lucas waited until a guy slipped off at the next stop to take his seat. He needed to check his schedule again. First, meet the school principal, then go to class. Mr. Matthews was his homeroom teacher, also the history teacher. Lucas didn’t hate history, but it wasn’t his favorite subject either. The idea of skipping the first day didn’t seem too bad now.

As he was forming a plan to get away and spent the day discovering new places, his gaze met two girls his age a few meters away.

A blonde. And a brunette.

The blonde caught his eye immediately. She was leaning against the railing, completely at ease, like she’d done this a hundred times before. Her long, slightly messy hair framed a face that was striking in its sharpness—blue-grey eyes that seemed to take in everything without giving anything away. She was so small too, like she could fit in the palm of his hand. There was something about the way she held herself that made her seem untouchable, like she belonged everywhere and nowhere all at once. She wasn’t smiling, but the tilt of her chin and the set of her jaw had a kind of boldness to it. She looked like trouble, the kind of trouble he couldn't help but get into. And she was beautiful—not in an obvious, polished way, but in a way that made him want to figure her out, like there was something worth uncovering beneath the surface. Like she somehow held an answer to a question he hadn’t asked before.

Then there was the brunette, standing a step behind her. She clutched her bag tightly, shifting her weight nervously, as though the bustling metro was a bit too much for her. Her wide brown eyes darted around the car, bright and curious, but with a softness that contrasted sharply with her companion. She looked wholesome, maybe even sweet. Her long, slightly wavy hair framed a face that seemed to light up when she turned to the blonde, her whole demeanor relaxing as she laughed at something quietly. It was obvious they were friends, but the difference between them couldn’t have been more stark.

Now, he didn’t understand why he felt a sudden rush of red flush on his cheeks, or why a smile had appeared on his lips.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they were beautiful.

The brunette giggled, her cheeks turning rosy as she responded to something the blonde said. But Lucas couldn’t help his curiosity, the blonde was staring defiantly, not budging, until the train moved, she looked away to say a few words to her friend.

He had expected them to stay put. Expected them to be strangers.

Except…the blonde confidently walked toward him, her steps unwavering, as the train moved. She had something in mind, and somehow Lucas wanted to know more.

She gripped the railing closest to him, stopping only a few inches away.

“Hi, I’m Maya, and I think you’re really cute,” the blonde declared, extending her hand for a handshake. Before he could respond with a compliment himself, she swiftly sat right next to him, their thighs touching. The proximity of the stranger made Lucas stiffen. “I also think we should date.” Seizing his hand in her soft one, he felt a rush of something he couldn’t describe as she continued, “Now, this is totally not working; I clearly put all the work into the relationship.”

So, this was her endgame? A dare.

She released his hand, standing up. “It’s you, not me. I hope we can still be friends.” Maya examined him closely, her nose just centimeters from his. He kind of wanted to surprise her with a dare of his own. Close that gap between them. He wondered then if she’d act so poised then.

“Not really.” Without a second thought, she left without acknowledging his reaction, missing the contagious laughter that followed. He couldn’t help it. His sour mood was gone; the girl had somehow found a cure.

Joining her friend, who hadn’t missed the show, Maya acted as if everything in this encounter was a normal occurrence. They exchanged a few words.

Lucas wanted to go back to the girl and play his own game now. But before he could get up to actually talk to the two girls, the brunette had been propelled straight into his lap.

The brunette girl—he noticed her cute freckles and lopsided smile. She was warm, brown eyes nervously flitting between his.

“Hi,” she said nervously. Her eyes barely met his.

The girls really were like fire and ice. One so daring, and the other so shy. He wondered where they were headed. Since New York was such a big city, would he meet them again in the metro? Or somewhere else?

“Hi,” he answered.

“We were just talking about you. You used to date my friend Maya.”

His smile spread.

“I’m Lucas,” he introduced himself, the train moving carelessly, holding the brunette in his arms a little stronger so she wouldn’t fall.

“Riley,” the now-shy girl added. “I’m going to go now. It was nice meeting you, Lucas.” Riley stood up, leaving the train and joining her giggling friend for the remainder of his ride.

His plan to ditch the first day forgotten. Had the girls been there just to make him forget about his attitude? If every morning ride was this eventful, he could get used to New York.

He exited the cart by the door on his side, walking slowly as he passed the streets to his exit. A few streets away and he’d arrive. Checking his phone again to make sure he wasn’t inventing a route; he answered his mom’s text about arriving safely.

The school’s exterior was classic red brick with sprawling trees and an old charm. It was a far cry from the large fields and mountain ranges of his old school, but Lucas didn’t mind as much. Maybe New York had a few more surprises up its sleeve.

7:39. Monday. September 2^nd. John Quincy Addams Middle School.

He entered the building, with students bustling, coming and going. The hallways were decorated with graduating classes, and lockers, marble like floorings, and old timey scent. The modern installations of his previous middle school were gone replaced by the polished traditional ones of John Quincy Addams Middle School. Hopefully this school had functioning Wi-Fi. Lucas sighed, his mood had brightened, but now that he had entered the building, his plan of ditching had evaporated. Plus, he wasn’t a coward.  

“Sorry, do you know where the administration office is?” he asked a girl wearing an all-pink outfit and bright sneakers that passed by him.

Her face instantly flushed red, and her eyes widened. “Yeah, follow me. I’ll show you.” She had cute features, her smile and hair notably.  

They walked a few meters, turned through another corridor, and there it was. The secretary was answering a call, but had gestured him in. The girl that had accompanied him didn’t seem to want to leave his side.

“You’re new?” she asked, as they got through the transparent door.

“Yeah, I’m Lucas.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He could fake pleasantries all he wanted, he still missed his friends, and no amount of cute girls, or strange meetings in the metro would change his mind.

“Missy,” the girl said, smiling widely. She had a pretty smile. Was probably considered cool by the way she held herself.It would be the right move to become friends with her, if he wanted to play it safe this year. But he wasn’t that guy anymore.

He smiled. “Well, thanks, Missy.” He nodded. His mother had taught him good manners at the very least. The girl left him to join her friends, and he was once again, alone.

Talking to the secretary after her call ended, he waited until the principal’s voice rang out behind him.

“Mr. Friar!” the masculine tone boomed.

“Sir,” Lucas greeted, shaking the offered hand.

“Come and join me…” The principal gestured to his office. “I’ve just read through your file. Quite a dossier you got there.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We won’t accept any of that behavior here, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well! You got Mr. Matthews this year. I’m sure you’ll get along with your peers, and if you need anything, our school counselor has agreed to allow you to visit her during your art classes. John Quincy Addams is a great establishment to welcome all kinds of students. Do you need me to show you where your homeroom class is?”

“No, sir, thank you.” Lucas stood, ready to make his way to class. He wanted to keep a low profile this year. Responsibilities had always found their way to him, but since he had only planned to stay a year before High School, he didn’t need the extra work. Though he missed having a full schedule packed with activities, he didn’t miss the scrutiny that came with it.

He found his locker instantly and chose to get to class early. Though he knew students usually waited until the last minute to sit, he really had nothing better to do, and the stares from the students weren’t helping his feeling of not belonging.

He didn’t want to talk, but he also didn’t want to be invisible. Contradiction after contradiction. He didn’t have much time to show the students what kind of person he was. But he wasn’t a complete moron to the social rules.

As some students got into class, a few threw curious stares, but none had the courage to ask him his name or say hi.

Until, his eyes followed the sound of a girl’s voice: “…nothing happens to me ever?” A girl said, as she was pushed through the door by another.

The two girls from the morning ride.

“I’m sure there are still loads of things just waiting to happen,” Maya sighed, raising her eyes. Lucas couldn’t help but meet her gaze. Her blue-greyish eyes carried a storm. Suddenly, turning back to the girl, Lucas noticed the second girl scream: “Dad, what are you doing here?” Riley’s dad was probably the teacher standing in the doorway with a mischievous smile. Curly-headed, friendly face. He said something about not getting rid of him easily and dropped his bag on the desk.

So, New York Middle Schools could be as chucklesome as the ones in Dripping Springs?

Lucas didn’t really know what to do as he waited for the class to start. Most of the students were too engrossed in their reunions to care about his presence. The two girls were accompanied by a lanky guy, slim, brown-haired, and he looked like every stereotype of a typical nerd. Sam would have loved the guy.

Lucas couldn’t help but look back at the funny trio, their dynamic as clear as day. Riley was the heart, the boy was the brain, and Maya…well, she was something.

He could hear them talk about him.

“He must be new,” the boy said, dropping his books at the second-row front desk.

“Hi, I’m Farkle,” the boy said, turning to Lucas. “And these are my girlfriends: Maya and Riley.” He put his arms around the girls’ shoulders like to prove a point. Lucas raised an eyebrow.

The boy was certainly joking, right? Right on cue, the blonde girl removed his arm from her shoulder, getting away in a grumble.

“And I’m Lucas,” Lucas responded, smiling at the blonde’s disgust and the funny trio antics. He hadn’t expected to meet the girls again but couldn’t help feeling like this was exactly what he needed.

So, the two girls had gotten off at the same station as him earlier. Not only that, but he would share his classes with them all year?

He really couldn’t hide his excitement.

“Yeah, Farkle, no need to introduce us,” Maya said as she sat behind the desk in front of him. Another smile drew on his lips. She wanted to sit in behind him.

“What Alabama here forgot to mention was that we used to date.” And she winked, putting her feet on her desk, hiding behind her dirty soles.

He laughed. His mind swirled with images of her boldness. Was she always this careless?

“I’m actually from Texas,” he corrected, tossing her feet away from his face and down to the ground using her ankles. The move made her grin, with a darker gleam passing her features.

“Even better, cowboy.”

Oh, it was on.

Lucas was ready for the challenge. If she wasn’t going to hold back, he’d very gladly play along.

The blonde turned to her friend, dismissing the moment they shared. The brunette seemed silent.

“Hi,” Riley raised her hand in a shy greeting.

“Hi,” Lucas said directly.

A knot formed in his stomach. He wasn’t dumb.

The girl was clearly flustered, and something in his mind was screaming that this girl liked him.

Well, fuck.

Farkle mimicked kissing faces to the blonde and took a seat. Proving once again, his gut feeling was right. 

“Class is about to start,” Mr. Matthews warned the students.

“Hey! I’m Yogi. You’re new, right?” the short boy asked, with Asian features and a bright shirt.

“Yeah, I’m Lucas,” he smiled.

“And I’m Bryan,” a guy with messy brown hair and chubby cheeks, holding a notebook. “That’s Sarah, over there, and…”

Lucas nodded, acknowledging each introduction.

He cast a few glances at the trio, with Riley organizing her desk properly, Farkle taking his notebook out, and Maya silently judging the rest of the class.

Was she always in fighting mode? Or would she eventually ease up? He wondered.

Farkle joined the boys to talk about the new metro station on Waldo Street, but frankly, Lucas’ attention drifted toward the blonde’s unanswered queries to her friend.

Until she said something that alerted him.

“I forgot my wallet at home. Could you pay for me, Farkle?”

He knew that excuse well. Zay had used it countless times. It explained a few things.

“Everything for those eyes,” the boy joked and grabbed an extra green notebook for her. Was this a normal thing, or was the boy…?

“You let her take your stuff?” Lucas asked, glancing at the two.

Farkle cut in before the girl could answer. “We have an arrangement.”

An arrangement? Was this why she got away from him the second he put his arm around her? Was he using her?

“What kind of arrangement?” Lucas pushed. If the girl was in danger, which could explain why she always had that look in her eyes he would probably step in.

“None that concerns you.” she said.

Ouch. That only raised more alarms in his head. But before he could try and figure out exactly what was wrong, the teacher greeted the class for the semester with the bell ringing.

He would have to feel her breath behind him for the rest of the period. Unless he found new ways to turn around to look at her. Asking for a pen when she probably didn’t have any wouldn’t work. And turning for the sake of turning would only earn him puzzled looks from the rest of the class.

And that didn’t include the brunette girl sitting beside him, throwing glances every two seconds his way. Riley’s face card told him everything he needed. She liked him, and that only meant one thing for girls.

Maya was never going to look his way.

And here he thought New York had nothing interesting to offer.

Chapter Text

17:30. Friday. October 4th. Lucas’ house.

Lucas had surprised himself.

In less than a month, he’d become student council president, the second-best basketball player, landed the role of Romeo in Romeo and Juliet, and made a dozen or so friends—and counting.

Maybe New York wasn’t so bad after all.

Yet guilt lingered like a shadow. Last night, he’d missed a call from Zay.

His mom had been on his case about it. She didn’t want Zay calling her cellphone just to get a hold of him, and Lucas knew she was right. But between basketball practice, student council meetings, and rehearsals, everything felt overwhelming.

And then, there was Maya.

She was like a puzzle piece that refused to fit anywhere, boldly defiant and maddeningly unpredictable.

It was a mess.

Lucas was screwed, and he knew it. The second he saw her, it hit him like a train. And again today, when her teasing smile had lingered just a moment too long.

The only way this could ever work was if he gave in to Riley’s affections.

Maya had made it clear—too many times to count—that she wasn’t interested. But she was also full of contradictions. The tremble of her lip when she was caught off guard. The fleeting looks she threw his way when she thought no one was watching. Her relentless teasing and bold attitude, paired with a vulnerability that silently begged for something more.

He wanted to protect her.

It wasn’t just a want; it was primal, roaring inside him like an untamed animal. She had a hold on him, and it wasn’t something he could shake.

But Farkle had warned him—had been very clear. Let the girls choose for themselves.

And unless Maya decided to chase him, Lucas had to back off.

Riley had chosen him. Farkle had publicly chosen Riley.

But who chose Maya?

The thought gnawed at him. Lucas gritted his teeth, trying to shove the mess of emotions aside. He’d been distracting himself with activities, piling more onto his schedule just to drown it all out. But it wasn’t working. He was soft—too soft when it came to her. She could crush him if she wanted, and he’d crawl back for another round.

The triangle was exhausting. Farkle, in his strange genius way, had confessed to being in love with both girls. But he’d kept his affections for Riley visible, trying to avoid complicating things for Maya, whose home life was already fragile.

Except that hadn’t helped. It had only made Maya insecure, questioning her worth, wondering if she was just being used.

Lucas wanted to say something—to break the promise he’d made to Farkle and deal with the fallout later.

But that was the impulsive cowboy in him.

The analytical part of him, the one that measured every risk, knew this was a terrible idea. If he told Maya how he felt, what would she do? Probably laugh it off. Or worse, run. She wasn’t predictable, and flirtation was just a game to her. She’d play along sometimes, even flirt back. But it never felt like she truly believed him.

And Riley? Riley was adorable—a bright, kind soul who could light up a room with her laugh. He could see himself dating her easily. She was everything his parents had ever wanted for him: good grades, a sweet nature, and an optimistic outlook on life.

She wasn’t complicated. She wasn’t daring. She wasn’t Maya.

He hated himself for taking whatever Maya gave and pretending it was enough.

Lucas understood the situation. Maya didn’t need any more trouble in her life. She had enough. And yet, she trusted him with things she didn’t share with Riley or Farkle. That sliver of trust kept him hoping. Kept him hanging on.

He was a sucker, and he knew it.

He flopped onto the couch, a controller in his hand, hoping the game would clear his head.

“So, when are you going to ask her out?” Jake asked, sitting beside him and grabbing his own controller.

“I can’t,” Lucas muttered, scrolling through the game settings.

“Why? She likes you, you like her. Just do it,” Jake said, selecting his character with the confidence of someone who thought life was as simple as a game.

“Maya, Riley, and Farkle are my only real friends here. If I mess things up with Maya, it’ll hurt Riley, and that’ll hurt Farkle. And Maya will probably say no because she doesn’t want to hurt Riley. It’s…” He sighed.

“A mess,” Jake finished for him. “How about making new friends, so it doesn’t suck as much?”

“I could. But I like them. And I already promised Maya I’d stick around.” Lucas clenched the controller, frustration bubbling under the surface. Another reason to punch something.

“She wouldn’t say no,” Michael chimed in from the recliner, not even looking up from his phone.

“You’re wrong,” Lucas said flatly, punctuating his words with his first in-game kill.

“She feels safe around you, that’s saying something,” Michael continued.

“Her home life sucks. Feeling safe isn’t the same as wanting more.” Lucas’ voice was tight, his frustration bleeding into the game.

“You can keep lying to yourself, but Maya definitely has a thing for you,” Jake said casually, not bothering to sugarcoat it.

“I’m not going to be the asshole who gets her hopes up and then leaves.” Lucas finished their in-game maneuver with precision, trying to drown out the guilt clawing at him.

He hadn’t told his friends about the ticking clock. He had limited time in New York. Once the school year ended, he’d be gone.

18:45. Friday. October 4th. Lucas’ Room.

The ball bounced off the wall in a steady rhythm as Lucas held his phone to his ear.

“When are you coming back?” Zay’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“I’ll be home for the holidays,” Lucas replied, catching the ball one-handed. “Then back again for the summer.”

“And then we’ll get Coach Ryan to finally put us both on varsity!” Zay’s excitement was contagious. “He says I’m not ready yet,” he added, his voice rising enough to make Lucas pull the phone away slightly.

“Yep,” Lucas said, smiling faintly as he threw the ball again. The thunk echoed in the background.

“What’s up with you?” Zay asked after a beat.

“Nothing.” Lucas knew it was useless to lie—Zay could read him even from a thousand miles away.

“Come on, man. I know you better than that.”

Lucas hesitated. “I got the Romeo part.”

Zay let out a loud laugh. “Gosh, you’re becoming hot shit over there! What’s next—torn between singing your heart out or dunking the game-winning shot?” He paused. “You’re living a full-on Disney Channel Original.”

Lucas rolled his eyes, grinning despite himself.

“Or wait,” Zay continued, his voice teasing now, “you’re stuck choosing between the blonde beauty and the mysterious brunette for the Halloween party?”

Ever since Lucas had sent that candid cafeteria pic, Zay hadn’t let up. And Halloween? Lucas had completely forgotten it was even coming. Did middle schoolers dress up here too?

“Exactly,” he said dryly, bouncing the ball again.

“What’s up with Tom?” he asked, shifting the conversation.

“Hah—his dad confiscated his phone. Caught him trying to sneak a pack of smokes.”

Lucas blinked. “Since when does he smoke?”

“He doesn’t,” Zay said, barely containing his laughter. “I dared him.”

Lucas shook his head, smiling. His friends were still the same.

“You’d love high school, by the way,” Zay added, voice turning smug. “Guess who from ninth grade checks my Stories every day?”

Lucas didn’t skip a beat. “Vanessa?”

“Bingo.”

“You’ve asked her out three times. If she was into you, she’d have said yes by now.”

Zay scoffed. “Nah, man—it’s all about that sweet toxicity. Keeps things interesting.”

Lucas laughed, catching the ball and holding it for a second. No matter how far away he was, Zay always made it feel like home wasn’t so distant.

“Dinner time!” Juliette’s voice called from the kitchen.

“Gotta go—mom’s calling,” Lucas said, already moving toward the door. “Talk later?”

“Yep. I’ll let Tom know you’re still alive.”

Lucas hung up, pocketed the phone, and headed out of his room.

19:00. Friday. October 4th. Lucas’ House.

The smell of roasted meat and mashed potatoes filled the air as Lucas slid into his chair at the dining table. His mom set a steaming platter down in the center, the scent of sprout beans and rosemary rising with the heat.

“Lucas,” Juliette began, settling into the seat across from him, “you should invite Maya to dinner next week. I’d love to see her again.”

Lucas blinked, caught off guard. He hadn’t even been sure Maya would want to talk to him outside school, let alone have dinner. Jake had skipped tonight’s dinner to go to a party, and Michael was out meeting his girlfriend. His dad was still stuck at the bank on late hours, leaving just him and his mom in the quiet glow of a cozy evening.

“Can I invite my other friends too?” he asked cautiously, reaching for the serving spoon.

Juliette tilted her head, amused. “Of course, honey.”

He knew Maya might turn him down if it felt too direct. But if it was a group thing, she’d be more likely to say yes. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. If he played this right, she’d be stuck.

“Just check if anyone has allergies,” Juliette added, her voice warm. “And let me know when so I can plan.”

He nodded, the light smile still on his lips as he imagined Maya sitting across from him at this very table. For a second, the thought of her here—comfortable, casual, maybe even laughing—felt like something close to happiness. But then reality nudged at the edges. He only had a few months left before everything changed.

Still, he’d see her Monday. Maybe he could find a way to see her sooner.

Weekly Online Therapy Session.

The familiar ding of the video call connecting brought Lucas face-to-face with Dr. Carmichael. Her calm, professional demeanor stood in sharp contrast to the storm quietly brewing inside him. He hated these sessions—but he couldn’t deny they made him confront things he preferred to bury.

“Hi, Lucas. How’s your week been?”
He shrugged, avoiding eye contact as he fiddled with a pen on his desk. “Same as always. Busy.”

“I see. Last week, we touched on how Maya’s situation triggered a strong reaction from you. Would you like to talk more about what happened with her and Ms. Walker?”

Lucas sighed, tossing the pen aside. “The teacher was unfair. Maya fell asleep in class, and instead of just waking her up, Ms. Walker made a big deal out of it. She started yelling, saying Maya wasn’t taking school seriously.”

Dr. Carmichael nodded, waiting.

“It pissed me off,” Lucas admitted, his jaw tightening. “Maya was being attacked, and I couldn’t stop it.”

“And why did that make you so angry?”

“Because it felt wrong! She didn’t deserve it. She was exhausted. Anyone could see that. But Ms. Walker didn’t care. She just kept piling on.”

“And what did you do?”

Lucas shifted. “I told the teacher she was wrong. I stood up for Maya. But it didn’t help. Ms. Walker sent us both to the principal.”

“Did you resort to violence?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I mean—I wanted to. I could feel it building. But I didn’t. I’ve been working on that. I just said what I needed to say.”

“How did standing up for her make you feel?”

“Like crap.” Lucas gave a humorless laugh. “Didn’t change anything. Maya still got in trouble, and I couldn’t stop it. It was like last year all over again.”

Dr. Carmichael paused. “Would you like to say more about that?”

Lucas hesitated. “It’s that same feeling of helplessness. Like no matter what I do, it’s not enough.”

“And how did Maya respond?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “She acted like it was nothing. She joked about it. But I saw the dark circles under her eyes. She’s always tired. Always pretending she’s fine. I thought maybe the teachers knew about her home life... or would at least cut her some slack. But no. Ms. Walker didn’t let up.”

“And when you were sent to the principal?”

Lucas clenched his fists. “Maya lied. She said it was her fault. Took the blame.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Angry.”

“Why?”

“Because she can’t do that,” he snapped, the frustration spilling over.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s my job!” His voice rose. “I’m supposed to protect her. Not the other way around.”

Dr. Carmichael let that settle. “Why do you think you feel that way?”

Lucas froze, tension rippling through his shoulders. “I don’t know. I just do.”

“She seems to protect Riley and Farkle, too. Why do you think it’s harder to accept when she does it for you?”

He opened his mouth, stopped. His hands curled tighter. “Because if she’s always protecting everyone else... who’s protecting her?”

Silence.

Dr. Carmichael’s voice was softer now. “Do you think Maya needs someone to protect her?”

“She doesn’t need it,” Lucas said, quieter now. “She’s strong. But that doesn’t mean she should have to deal with it all alone.”

“So you feel responsible for her?”

“Yeah,” he said, his tone firm. “I want to be there. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Dr. Carmichael leaned in slightly. “Do you think she’s safe from you?”

Lucas flinched. The question cut deeper than he expected.

“No,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because...” He swallowed hard. “Because she makes me feel things I don’t know how to deal with. And I’m scared I’ll hurt her. Not like—physically. But... by wanting too much.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

“Terrified,” Lucas admitted. “I don’t want to be another thing she has to deal with.”

Chapter Text

11:00. Saturday. October 12th. Riley’s Apartment.

The bedding was soft beneath her cheek—freshly warmed sheets, smelling faintly of detergent and safety. The comfort of it oozed into her bones. Maya loved naps in Riley’s bed. It was the most comfortable place in the world. To be near her best friend, to smell her shampoo on the pillow, and to touch things that felt too precious for her dirty hands.

This was the calmest she had felt all week.

In the background, the lazy theme song of their favorite reality TV show hummed on. Riley’s stomach gave a loud growl, hungry for whatever delicious scent was coming from the kitchen.

Maya could almost taste the chicken parmesan from here. Mr. Matthews always served up extra cheese—far more than the recommended portion. But it was perfect. Spinach, broccoli, crispy chicken, and the creamiest sauce made with butter, garlic, and herbs.

In her life, Maya hadn’t cooked many meals. The few she had attempted were usually under Topanga’s supervision. Outside of that—and an occasional bowl of cereal or a slapped-together sandwich—cooking was a luxury. The kind of thing people did when they had groceries that weren’t just the basics.

There were days when Maya did the shopping alone. She’d sneak a ten out of her mom’s purse—or collect pennies from the street—and walk fifteen minutes to a corner shop that sold dented cans and knockoff brands at discount prices. Marlo, the old guy behind the counter, never asked questions.

Sometimes, she’d see other kids like her—hovering by the same shelves, buying instant noodles and oatmeal, no parents in sight.

Those were the days Maya felt a little lucky.

Her babysitting money would usually go toward milk, cereal, and whatever she could stretch over the week. Ramen packs were staples. She’d learned to fudge expiration dates and dilute condensed soup with water—just enough salt, and it passed.

She liked food just as much as the next kid, but the meals she loved most were the ones that filled her stomach fast.

And Riley’s kitchen... that was a whole other universe.

There was a full cupboard just for snacks: giant bags of crackers (cheesy, crunchy, buttery), rows of granola bars, chips, jelly fruit candies, and—her favorite—a giant glass jar filled with cookies. So many cookies, they could feed their whole class in one go.

Behind the classics, there was the popcorn stash, trail mixes that only Topanga liked, and way in the back? Riley’s and Auggie’s previous Halloween candy haul.

They were allowed one candy per week. Two on weekends.

That kind of rationing was not exactly a Hart family tradition.

Maya had never been to Farkle’s house, but she imagined it looked similar—just more... organized. Transparent containers labeled in perfect handwriting, shiny metal scoops. The kind of kitchen where you could see your reflection in the utensils.

For sleepovers, Maya used the toothbrush Topanga kept in the guest drawer.

There were free meals offered around the city. Churches, community centers. But Maya knew better. She’d heard stories of police waiting near the doors, just looking for kids to show up so they could report their parents for neglect.

She wasn’t taking that risk.

The other options either required a signature from her mother or meant someone would “officially” take over.

Maya couldn’t afford any of that. She needed to stay invisible.

Next to her, Riley was drifting off, her head slowly tilting to the side. They had exhausted themselves that morning, celebrating their victories. It had felt good—better than good—to have something go exactly the way Riley had dreamed it.

It might’ve been one more responsibility added to the pile, but Maya didn’t mind. It meant time with her friends. It meant her mind and body stayed off the streets, out of her house. Lingering after the bell didn’t feel like a chore when you had nowhere else to belong.

And even here—snuggled in a warm bed with her best friend—something still felt... off.

Maybe it was the weight of all the things left unsaid. The weird, subtle shift in Riley’s behavior. Or maybe it was something else.

Whatever it was, she ignored it.

That’s what she always did with problems that didn’t demand immediate attention.

Call it lazy, or self-preservation.

Either way, it was her way of forgetting.

And that... she’d done a lot of.

Years of forgetting. Of skipping over the important details of a life she never asked for. Of burying memories so deep they dissolved into the darker corners of her brain. Souvenirs held emotions—hope, care, want.
None of those were helpful in the jungle.

At breakfast, Riley’s parents had asked them both about their week.

“Better than ever!” Riley beamed, giving a full recap.

Maya had been asked, too. Topanga had turned toward her, eyes warm, curious. So, she gave her version. Shorter. But enough to make Auggie smile.

The Matthews, as always, were encouraging. They cheered for both girls, then moved the conversation on to other matters Maya couldn’t quite follow—chores schedules for the kids for the week.

They didn’t linger. Like good people.

And Maya didn’t feel sad.
Not mad, either.
But there was something—a weird tightness between her shoulders, like someone was pressing down from behind.

Maybe it was shame.
Shame for the things she’d hid? Or the things she’d said?

Or maybe it was that growing sense of disconnection, like she wasn’t really inside her body anymore, just floating above it—watching things unfold from a bird’s-eye view.

Detached. Hollow.

Yeah… that tracked. That sounded exactly like a Hart.

The episode ended. Riley yawned and closed the laptop.

“Want to take a nap?” she mumbled, voice soft with sleep.

Maya nodded, like she’d just been pulled back down from the clouds.

She shifted, closing her arms around her friend the way they liked.

Riley was the little spoon. Maya didn’t mind being the big spoon.

She wondered, just briefly, if her friend would ever ask to switch.
Would ever turn around and say, “I hold you this time.”
Would she think maybe... Maya wanted to be held, too?

But Riley didn’t say anything. And Maya just lay there, wide awake behind her sleeping best friend, and waited for the peace to stay.

She couldn’t afford to scare her nonblood related sister away. Goodness knows she wouldn’t survive.

13:03. Saturday. October 12th. Riley’s Apartment.

As expected, the meal had been the tastiest, dreamiest thing Maya had eaten in weeks. She’d thanked the Matthews more than once for it, even if they waved it off like it was nothing.

Now, they were all gathered around the dining table, spooning through bowls of chocolate and vanilla ice cream. The warmth of lunch still lingered in the air, the kitchen filled with post-meal lull.

Riley was the first to break it.

“Mom, Dad... you really don’t need to come to my debates this year,” she announced, casually. Like she hadn’t rehearsed that line in her head all morning.

She meant the upcoming debate set against St-Henry’s prep. The first one in a series against other schools, only a few days away.

Maya glanced up from her bowl. Topanga and Mr. Matthews looked mildly surprised. There was no way they’d miss it. Not when it came to Riley performing.

Seeing their daughter on stage, speaking her truth with confidence and poise, was a huge deal to the Matthews. Topanga deeply respected that kind of courage. And Cory... as long as Riley was happy, he’d clap the loudest in the room.

“Mr. Johnson already sent us the dates,” Topanga said with a self-satisfied smile, tapping her phone. “They’re in my calendar.”

Riley groaned. “But mooom... L—My friends are going to be there. I want more independence!”

“You’ll get it in high school,” Mr. Matthews replied, brushing off her dramatics. “For now, just be happy we’re your ride.”

Riley folded her arms in protest. “Come on, please!”

The parents exchanged a glance. Then, Topanga raised an eyebrow.

“Would this have anything to do with a boy?”

Riley turned scarlet. “What? No—why would—what makes you think that?”

Topanga held up a hand. “I get that having your parents on the sidelines isn’t always the coolest. But what if you have a panic attack? Or forget your speech?”

“I’ll manage. Maya will be there,” Riley said firmly, like it settled everything.

“Yep,” Maya added, licking the last bit of vanilla from her spoon, elbows now planted on the table like she was Riley’s legal counsel.

Topanga looked between the two girls. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Because once we say no, that’s it. You really want us to sit this one out?”

“I do. Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Dad,” Riley replied, her mouth full of chocolate and determination.

The parents nodded, not entirely satisfied, but willing to let it go—for now.

Maya scraped the pearly swirl of melted vanilla from the bottom of her bowl and licked it clean.

“Alright,” Topanga said, rising from the table. “Be ready in ten minutes, fam. We’re going shopping.”

The girls stood and rinsed their bowls in the sink, their day far from over.

13:32. October 12^th. Car ride. New York.

The city always looked different from a car.

Maya had noticed you could never quite see the tops of the buildings, and the blur of motion erased all the little things that made each street special. From inside a vehicle, everything felt either too fast or way too slow.

The Matthews didn’t live far from the mall. The trip would’ve been faster by subway, but Maya wasn’t complaining. A car ride meant rest. And sometimes, it was nice to see the city from a different angle.

She sat squished in the backseat between Riley and Auggie, whose booster seat kept him upright and locked.

Maya, on the other hand, was thoroughly sandwiched—wedged between the two kids and the middle console. Her shoulder bumped Riley’s; her hip pressed into Auggie’s plastic seat frame. She could already feel something poking into her butt. A rogue toy? A safety buckle? Probably both.

There was, of course, the eternal family debate about the radio.

Topanga liked the news. Mr. Matthews always went for old-school hits from the '90s. Auggie demanded the kiddie channel, full of off-key cartoons and unbearable jingles. Recently, Riley had begun insisting they put on the Z100, which basically meant whichever boyband was making headlines that week.

Today, the car played Topanga’s choice.

Mr. Googly was riding shotgun with Auggie, strapped securely to his chest like a plushie security guard. It had taken a full minute—and some intense negotiation—for Auggie to let Maya take the seat usually reserved for his “bestest buddy.”

During that minute, Maya had chewed the inside of her cheek and looked out the window like she didn’t care.

Something sharp jabbed her again from underneath. She fished around and pulled out a tiny plastic ring.

“That’s mine,” Auggie said, his front teeth still missing and his S’s coming out wet and squeaky. “I asked Ava to marry me, but she said no.”

Maya blinked. “Sorry buddy.”

Up front, the parents were having their own debate about which route to take. Topanga argued the GPS would save them two minutes. Mr. Matthews insisted on “his way,” which was code for “I’m driving, I’m choosing”.

“She’s right, Auggie,” Riley said, snatching the ring from her brother’s hand. “You’re too young to get married.”

Which, of course, started a war.

“Give me my ring back!”

“It’s just a ring!”

“MOOOOM!”

Topanga didn’t even flinch. She offered one glance—a serious warning sort of glance—and both kids paused.

“Riley stole my ring,” Auggie tattled.

“I was just looking at it,” Riley replied, throwing it back into her brother’s lap like it was radioactive.

But Auggie wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. He began grousing under his breath, muttering nonsense phrases about love and betrayal, until the car finally rolled into the mall parking lot.

A flair for the dramatics definitely ran in the family.

14:17. October 12^th. Atlantic Terminal Mall. New York.

After parking, and settling on divide and conquer as a tactic, the three girls walked into the Atlantic Terminal Mall, window perusing.

They had their own little habits when it came to shopping, stores they would visit more frequently, aisles they preferred over others, water fountain they favored, and so on.

And Maya was comforted in knowing, even though she never asked for anything, Topanga always provided a double of whatever Riley chose to buy those days. Unless too specific to be needed, she never treated her any less. Or forgot she existed. Taking as much time in helping her daughter, as she did with her.

It was…appreciated. Maya liked those moments where she could for a second or two, imagine herself as Riley’s actual sister. To think Topanga as her mother, just buying her twins clothing, or supplies for school.

It was nice. 

“Mom, girls in class are wearing bras,” Riley declared skipping her way in the main hall. “Can we go to Victoria’s Secret?” She asked with her best puppy eyed expression.

Topanga, who was holding her phone to answer a text, blinked once. “I don’t think you need one right now, sweetheart.” The woman was occupied, like any busy lawyer.

Although, to be fair, Maya didn’t know any more. It happened sometimes that Topanga had to deal with a few urgent matters on weekends, in those moments, Mr. Matthews was generally in charge of taking care of the kids.

“Please?” Riley pressed, cheeks flushed. “Just, like… one.” She pressed half looking at her mother, holding onto Maya’s hand.

Topanga smiled gently and looked away from the device to focus on the girls. “How about a bralette instead?”

“What’s that?” Maya wondered.

“It’s like a bra, but no wires. Much more comfortable. No hassle,” she explained, as they got to the escalator. “We’ll buy one for each of you.”

Maya raised her eyebrows. “Oh—no need, Ms. Matthews, I’m good.” She took a small step back, pretending to be very interested in the moving steps.

“Maya, I insist,” Topanga said firmly but kindly, without even looking at her. “If my daughter’s getting something today, so are you. If you want anything, just say it.”

“I really don’t need anything,” Maya mumbled, voice quieter than before.

Topanga gave her that look again—the one Maya knew too well. The one adults gave her when they weren’t going to argue, but they weren’t going to budge either. It was the same one she got when she’d show up without a coat and said she wasn’t cold.

“It’s just clothes,” Topanga said lightly, walking into the right direction. “And besides, you girls babysat for us every now and again.”

“Mr. Matthews already paid us plenty for last night,” Maya reminded, nudging Riley with her elbow like she might back her up.

“Yes, but this is my compensation,” Topanga said with a wink, handing each girl a ten. “Now. Bralettes, then jeans. And Maya, didn’t your backpack strap break?”

Maya blinked. “It’s fine.”

“Mmhmm,” Topanga hummed, already eyeing the display of bags by the entrance of the nearest large surface store.

What Maya didn’t know—what Riley hadn’t even noticed herself—was that Topanga had no plans of buying anything for Riley’s already overflowing wardrobe. Everything she picked out today was intentional. Fall was on its way, and if they left with mittens, boots, and even a scarf or two, Topanga would sleep easier.

“Wouldn’t want you girls freezing,” she muttered under her breath, mentally checking off the list as she placed a pair of gloves in red and another one in purple in their basket.

“Thank you, Ms. Matthews,” Maya said eventually, her smile was soft, grateful in the kind of way that stung a little if you looked too closely.

“You’re welcome, honey,” Topanga replied, without making it a big deal.

14:49. October 12^th. Atlantic Terminal Mall. New York.

“Matching bras!” Riley announced gleefully, bringing two more sets and dropping them into their gray shopping bags. “Yellow for you, purple for me,” she grinned. “Or maybe pink? What do you think?”

Topanga had agreed begrudgingly to let them have exactly one bra each, but as Maya was getting used to these days, Riley would certainly find a way to convince her mother to let them have more.

They giggled as they walked toward the displays. There were so many models... Dainty bows, daring straps, floral mesh, and sparkly gems.

Brassieres. Stuff meant to stay hidden. But apparently, even that had fashion rules.

And Maya... well, Maya hadn’t thought about it much. Her chest hadn’t grown particularly. Her body didn’t seem to want the same things Riley’s did. She hadn’t really considered what she should wear underneath.

Or what message it sent, if any.

Some sets were bold. Others sweet. Some screamed frilly and flirty, others looked like they required an instruction manual.

“How do you even get into that?” Riley asked, pointing at a display that looked like an interwoven mess of black straps and loops.

“Gymnastics,” Maya muttered, pretending to squint at the price tag.

“There’s a great deal, girls!” Topanga called from nearby, gesturing to a section of overflowing bins. “Pick five each.”

Maya approached slowly. Bins labeled by size. Hundreds of panties staring back at her like a test she hadn’t studied for.

“Hey! You picked this one too,” Riley said, holding up a light blue pair with a daisy bow after a full minute of digging in the ‘XS’ bin. “Wouldn’t you rather get the black one? It’s the same.”

Maya frowned.

If given a choice, colors always felt better than black. She had enough of that at home. Too much, actually.

“No,” she said, giving a small smile. “I’ll stick with the blue.”

She liked blue. The red, pink, yellow and green too.

But something shifted when she noticed that nearly every piece she picked matched Riley’s choices. Obliged, she lingered longer at the bins, trying to find designs that weren’t repeats. 

But by the end, in the choices left, the only one she liked that wouldn’t disintegrate in her laundromat washer… was the same blue underwear Riley chose.

“Have you girls picked yet?” Topanga returned with a bag of her own, filled nearly to the brim. Maya nodded, but her eyes briefly drifted to the contents of the mother’s bag.

She didn’t mean to snoop. Not really. Just... a peek into the kind of choices a woman like Topanga made in a place like this.

They were bolder—lace-trimmed, deep-colored, elegant pieces the girls wouldn’t have dared to try on. The kind that looked like they belonged in glossy magazines or in movies.

At least, that’s what Maya thought.

And she couldn’t help but wonder—why?
Why would a woman like Topanga choose those over simpler ones? Wasn’t she supposed to be past all that? Married. Settled. With two kids and a kitchen full. Did she still need to impress someone? Or was it just... personal taste?

And if it was taste, what made these so much better than the ones Maya had seen at target? Did price make them more beautiful? Did lace mean more than cotton?

Her brain wandered further—toward a question she wasn’t sure she should be asking.

But she did anyway.

Did a boy ever have a say in those choices?

Would Mr. Matthews ever tell his wife to wear something else, the way Topanga sometimes chose his button-ups before school events?

Was that what Riley wanted? Not just underwear that matched—but ones someone else might like? Was that why she brought it up with such excitement?

And the thought unsettled a sea of following thoughts.

If Lucas ever got to choose what Riley wore... what would it be?

What would he ask of her?

That idea—that some boy could have a say in what you wore—that idea played with Maya.

She tried to picture it. Lucas telling her— no Riley—what to wear. What not to wear.
And the image twisted in her stomach.

Not in a wrong way. Just enough to feel…something.

Even as the thought buzzed around in the back of her mind like a loose wire, a small smile crept onto her lips.

She didn’t know why she didn’t hate it completely.

Not exactly.