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When Farkle tells her the news that morning Riley’s first instinct is to go back to bed, change into her pajamas and head to Rileytown forever. The ever oblivious Riley Matthews handles bad news the same way she handles everything else: she pretends it doesn’t bother her, until it does. At least under the covers she can pretend she isn’t alone.
She knows she isn’t actually alone. Lucas insists on staying by her side even when she tries to throw the entirety of her bedroom at him, Maya would have laughed at her foolishness.
Would have.
Riley shakes her head to force the impending thoughts away, but she fears there’s nothing that can be done to rid her of the memories. Everyone keeps asking if she needs something, but every time she answers there's a new wave of grief that fills the living room.
The worst thing Riley’s ever had to deal with is her fish “running away,” and even then Maya made sure to remind her how happy he was on his farm with his other fish friends. Part of her resents Maya for sheltering her so much. Her father's lesson about evil didn’t prepare her for this. Sure the world is a scary place but a reality where Maya isn’t around is worse than evil.
It’s hell.
Everything goes by in technicolor, like that one time she accidentally ate three of her cousin Josh’s brownies. Maya had to reassure her the whole night that she wasn’t going blind that her eyes were just closed. (At this point she’d gladly give up all of her senses for another 5 minutes with her best friend.)
Riley can’t imagine what Maya’s mother is going through but she doesn’t feel bad about missing her call that morning. If anything, Riley wishes she could go back in time and refuse Farkles insistent knocking as well. (Time unfortunately works the same as it always does and reminds Riley of more time she doesn’t get with Maya.)
She doesn’t notice the shift on the couch when Lucas gets up, or the shouting that follows. There’s laughter when everyone leaves to help, but the only thing she notices is the stinging pain of Maya’s voice not being among them.
As it starts to get dark and people filter through the front door Riley’s left to grieve, alone. She knows Lucas would have gladly stayed and cuddled all night but it took most of her energy to ask him to leave. She doesn’t need her boyfriend, she needs her best friend.
“Maya, if you can hear me.”
She knows she must sound like a crazy person, laying in her bed staring at the ceiling actually hoping for a response less than 24 hours after the… She bites her tongue, holding back tears.
“I miss you.”
The unfairness settles in her gut this time, anchoring her towards the reality of the situation and it takes everything in her not to cry out in pain.
“I miss you so much, Maya.”
The whole day has been nothing but a reminder to Riley of how much she needs Maya, of how much she loves Maya, and how alone she’s going to feel without her.
The moment dawns on Riley as if someone suddenly turned the cold air on, her whole body shakes with despair and she realizes if she had the chance she’d give up anything for Maya. (As long as Maya was alive, with her, here, right now.)