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2016-10-06
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2019-02-25
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9/?
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Chapter 9: Girl Meets Time, Part I

Summary:

There are moments in films and books that change the lives of its characters forever; and Riley thinks of blonde hair and blue eyes, and thinks that maybe, this is it. This is it for her and Maya.

Notes:

(1) I was gone for too long, I know. I suggest you read up on the last chapter so you'll get acquainted with this story again. (2) There's a slight cliffhanger at the end. Do not threaten me with a lifetime of pain. (3) This one's un-beta(ed) so there are going to be so many typos because I'm practically blind and I suck at this.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

February

Time, Riley thinks, is a funny concept. It speeds up when you want a moment to last longer and it slows down when you’re waiting, anticipating something. The thing is, time passes and passes until it skips most things and Riley latches on to this—that she can skip through everything and not do anything but somehow time will fix it.

Time doesn’t. Time doesn’t do anything but pass; and Riley’s stuck in a world without answers.

A month has passed since that fateful night of Maya’s exhibit and everything is back to normal.

After breaking down on the sidewalk, Riley makes a decision to walk back in and put on a brave face, act like an earthquake didn’t just hit Rileytown. After all, it was Maya’s night and her bestfriend deserves it—for the night to go the way it was planned.

There’s just no place in that small space for Riley’s big feelings.

So she pretends like everything is normal.

Its’s funny; how pretending to be okay stops feeling like pretend; and you’d think it somehow heals you but it doesn’t. Because they still talk like they’re same old them, act like they’re same old them; but Riley spends a lot these nights feeling like this giant hole in heart just keeps getting bigger and bigger.

“Are you okay?” Aria asked her once when she caught Riley slumped on the bed, staring at the ceiling like it has all the answers.

“Is there a right answer to that?” she responds with a question. “Like, I’m okay in the grand scheme of things but some days I don’t feel like I belong to my body at all.”

If her speech surprised her roommate, Aria does a good job hiding it.

“I say ‘I’m surviving’, when I feel like okay isn’t the right word,” Aria tells her.

Riley looks at her roommate and nods, “Then, I’m surviving.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“No, not really. I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.”

Riley thinks it was clear. The painting said it all, somewhere there was an act of falling in love and somewhere there’s also the realization that it just wasn’t worth it. If Farkle’s conclusion was correct, Maya got scared so she tucked her feelings so far down it almost seemed like it didn’t exist.

“Okay.”

“Surviving.”

.

March

Spring starts and New York feels friendly for the first time.

Somehow, Riley expected for something big to come out of it. What exactly that big thing is, she doesn’t know but there’s hope somewhere because the flowers are blooming again—and that has got to mean something, right? A new beginning, a rebirth.

She’d blame Aria for this; all those poetic references to the changing of the season. It’s hard when your roommate studies language. The older girl influences her about the things that aren’t being said but being communicated anyway.

Maya visits one weekend during Spring break and watches a Knicks game with Zay and Lucas. It’s free and the girl never says no to free stuff. They end up on Riley’s room for the rest of that night, watching a movie.

The blonde holds her hand and Riley lets her. It feels foreign now.

It’s weird how an ancient act between the two of them could feel so new, so awkward. But she clasps Maya’s hand anyway because her mom once told her that when it’s tough, that’s when you need to hold tighter.

Maya’s hand is warm against her. She thinks of hope and new beginnings, and how sometimes there are kinds of loves that are easier than other kinds; a kind that doesn’t risk everything. Is that it? Is that why Maya never told her about her feelings? Is that why she opted to paint those feelings instead?

“Are you in love with her?” are the words that come out of Riley’s mouth when they finished the movie.

“Hmm?” Maya hums to clarify.

“Tori.”

Maya pauses for about a second before she responds, “No—”

Riley can’t deny the relief that washes over her. She doesn’t know why her body responded that way. But then—

“—not yet,” Maya adds.

Maya used to believe that hope is for suckers.

Riley is starting to see that.

.

April

Auggie calls her at 9:32 PM.

Riley was just about done reviewing her notes for her 8AM class when she gets the call. It’s weird because it’s late and it’s weird because Auggie—August—never calls her. It’s always a chat on Facebook Messenger about the latest meme and that’s about the entire relationship she has with her brother.

She picks up immediately.

“Riley,” he says soon as Riley picks up. She hears unfamiliar noise in the background of the other line, a sound of people having a really intense verbal fight.

“What’s up?” she asks, keeping her cool. In her head, she imagines tons of different scenarios. August in jail, August in a bar fight, August in a fight club; even imagines August in a gang. Maya’s told her how it’s always the good kids who turn out to be troublemaker teens. Somehow, Riley thinks she’s prepared for this.

“Mom and Dad are fighting,” August says. His voice shakes. It’s not the first time their parents fought, of course not. Even Cory and Topanga aren’t perfect. But this one feels different. “It’s bad.” And no, Riley wasn’t prepared for that at all.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, “I’m coming.”

She sends Maya a text that night because she’s scared and terrified; and only Maya knows how to handle her when she’s scared and terrified.

Maya takes the first train to New York the following day. It was a weekday but Maya didn’t care. They get tacos and Maya whispers things to her about the strong kind of love, the kind that survives storms and multiple world-ending conflicts.

As they sit there, munching on tacos, Riley wonders if their love is that kind of love.

Maya tells her it’s going to be okay.

It doesn’t.

Cory moves out by the end of April after an agonizing sit-down meeting among the four of them. Both parents are calmer now but they acknowledge that they need a break. Topanga tells her that sometimes, breaking apart is the only way one thing can be whole again.

Riley doesn’t believe it one bit. She calls Maya and Maya is there in a heartbeat.

They lie in bed that night. Riley hasn’t cried, keeping a strong front for August and her mom.

“Please don’t ever do that,” Riley pleads.

“Do what?”

“Leave,” Riley mutters, her voice shaking for the first time since his dad announced his decision to leave. He’ll come back, he said. Riley hopes, and hopes, and hopes.

Maya doesn’t respond, not verbally. But she wraps her arms around Riley, holding her tight. It’s an answer and a promise at the same time. I’m not going to leave goes unsaid. Riley feels it, but a tiny part of her wants more; wants Maya to stay, wants Maya to explain why and when, and how come.

Once again, Riley is reminded of the easy kind of love; the kind that doesn’t leave, the kind that doesn’t risk it all. Is this why Maya never confessed? Was she afraid that she would leave Riley? Would they have survived it—if Maya told her she loved her and it didn’t work out?

“I don’t know how to be Riley anymore.”

All of her friends live someplace else. Her father left. Some days, Riley feels like she’s just starting to see what the world is really like.

“People leaving doesn’t make you less of who you are, Riles,” Maya tells her. “You’re a whole person still. I can’t tell you I know how it feels like to be in that situation. We all experience pain differently but Riles, the only thing I’m certain of is that we’ll wake up tomorrow and we get the chance to see a better day.”

Maya isn’t always this optimistic but her positivity is so uniquely Maya that it makes Riley’s breath hitch. She’s not as sunny as Riley is. No, she isn’t that kind of hope.

Maya is that old sound you hear when you go home—a slight buzz in the air that makes it familiar. She’s that old scar from when you fell off the bike when you were a kid. She’s that chapped paint on the wall next to your bed; the dust that formed around a picture frame that hung on the wall for the years and years.

She’s familiar. She’s home. She’s everything Riley needs; and her mind tricks her into thinking that maybe there’s a universe out there where they stand a chance.

There’s a pain in her chest Riley hasn’t experienced before. When she wakes up tomorrow, her father won’t be at the breakfast table and her mother would have swollen eyes for spending the entire night in tears.

But Maya would be there—it’s not perfect but it keeps her going.

May

Riley goes home more often than she stays at the dorm. The semester is truly winding down so there was a lot of room for her to support August and Topanga.

Maya calls her almost everyday. She even Facetimes with the entire family and never fails on making Topanga laugh. Her mom gets better, sleeps better, and sometimes, Riley doesn’t hear her sobbing herself to sleep.

It’s comforting, somehow, to know that Topanga is still crying about it. Her father also doesn’t seem like he’s doing very well on the few times they’ve met for lunch. There’s no love lost; just two people who can’t be in the same room anymore.

Isn’t that scary? To spend your whole life decided to be with one person only to wake up one day and change your mind.

It was a Saturday when she gets the courage to ask.

“Mom, what happened between you and dad?”

She has books around her and a page on her notebook with no notes but random scribbles. Topanga is sat by the couch, browsing through case files, occupying herself with work, and work, and work.

“We’ve talked about this, Riley,” Topanga responds tiredly.

“No, I know,” she says because they have. They talked about that night in April and what has been happening all along. “I’m asking what really happened, Mom. Because I—” she stutters. She stops speaking altogether, afraid that her voice will break and it will give her away.

Topanga turns to look at her. She looks sad and just… defeated.

Riley lets out a breath, “How does that happen, Mom? You can’t make a promise to love someone forever and just… walk out. To just throw the towel and say you need a break, when you have a whole life together… dreams and sacrifices, and storms you’ve weathered together. How is this storm different?”

She’s out of breath by the time she finishes.

Topanga visibly deflates, shoulders slumping in search of something to say. Riley wonders if her Mom thinks she’s an adult now; if she sees Riley as somebody she can have this conversation with.

Her mom bites her lower lip, contemplating what to say next. She sighs, “You weather too many storms, you start to wonder if it’s worth sailing the ocean still.”

“Did you just get tired?” she can’t help the judgmental tone that comes with it. Did her parents just got tired of fighting and just… quit?

“No, honey. Right now, we’re resting.”

“Until when?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you love each other.”

Topanga lets out another heavy breath, laced with a sadness so steep it affects Riley, too, “Just because you love them and they love you back doesn’t mean it’s going to work out. Riley, you need to understand, loving someone takes a lot more than just love.”

It shatters Riley altogether because it’s Maya that crosses her mind.

“What if you got comfortable being apart?”

It’s too close to home, Riley knows, because she’s starting to feel like she and Maya are getting so comfortable with limited phone calls, with once-a-month-visits, with spontaneous visits that only happen when a tragedy strikes. Maya’s there, she’s just never close enough.

Topanga doesn’t respond and it scares Riley because what if this is easier? What if this is what comes after love? Cory and Topanga—the greatest love story of all time, somehow found themselves living in different apartments, with two kids who alternate weekends between their mom and their dad.

Farkle’s words cross her mind.

I think she loved you the best way she knew how.

From a distance, from a place she can’t destroy the two of you.

“Did you know Maya was in love with me?”

This one doesn’t even rattle the older woman.

Topanga only smiles calmly, “You finally figured it out, huh.”

.  

June

Riley sits at the foot of her bed, staring at the bay window as if it’s a puzzle she needs to solve.

She’s back home for the summer and it feels weird, different.

As the new season settles in, Riley wonders how she survived the last few months barely keeping it together. It’s heavy, and sad; and sometimes funny how one’s world could fall apart just like that.

She thought adult struggles were like, a one-time big-time affair. You know, one big problem happens and you solve it, and it’s over. Nobody talks about the struggles that drag on for days, and weeks, and months; and how time never really heals anything. All it does is make you feel like you’re used to the pain, like you’re used to that giant hole in your heart, so used to it that you stop trying to piece it back together.

She sighs and just when she’d decided to just go back to sleep, she hears a knock on her door.

“Mom, you don’t have to knock,” Riley says, as she plops down, eyes now trained on the ceiling.

“It’s—not your mom,” she hears Isadora’s voice on the other side of the door.

That’s enough to snatch Riley’s attention. She stands up and walks to the door, pulling the knob only to reveal a very much grown-up Isadora who has a calm smile plastered on her face.

“Isadora?”

“I didn’t want to climb up the window anymore, I just feel like we’re too old for that.”

Riley chances a quick glance at the bay window, her heart aching a bit at the bitter memory it brings.

Turning back to Isadora, she asks, “Do you want to come in?”

“No, I intend to stand here as I talk to you,” the girl says dryly.

Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Riley opens the door wider to welcome the shorter girl in. Isadora walks in and takes a seat on the chair by Riley’s vanity. She’s been here inside Riley’s room many times since they became friends but somehow, Isadora never really seemed like she got comfortable in this place.

Well, she’s hardly comfortable anywhere but still. It puzzles Riley how she never really… belonged. Riley’s sure Isadora considers them her bestfriends—she’d said that so many times before—but looking at the girl and the way she sits stiffly by Riley’s vanity, Riley thinks this is as far as Isadora can go; and trust her. Isadora showing up unannounced at your doorstep when she could be watching another  documentary at home—that’s pretty far.

So yeah, Riley breathes a little easier. At least some things are stable and okay—even though a large part of her life still hangs in the balance.

Nothing happens for a good few seconds until Riley realizes that she’s still standing by the door, looking at her friend like everything is weird.

“Should I ask what you’re doing here?”

“I’m so glad you broke the silence because I was going to pass out soon,” Isadora says, a slight panic evident on her face.

Riley chuckles, shaking her head lightly. She pushes the door closed and then sets herself back on the bed.

“I came here to hang out,” Isadora states and the words are so unfamiliar coming from the girl that Riley’s eyes widen a bit. Isadora notices the reaction and says, “Wow, I thought I was welcome here.”

“No!” Riley quickly counters, and then quickly shakes her head, “I mean, yes! You’re welcome here. I’m just surprised, is all.”

“Maya is coming home today,” Isadora casually drops the truth, her tone never wavering even though she knows that sentence could destroy Riley.

Riley thinks about the last few months—how Isadora became the friend that she needed. After Maya’s… confession (?) and everything that happened thereafter, Riley isn’t sure how she’s going to move forward.

What is a girl supposed to do after she realizes that her bestfriend has been in love with her all along?

Aside from all the crucial moments when she had Maya, it was Isadora who stood by her side for all the other things she can’t exactly talk to Maya about. They talked on the phone, did video calls when they had the time—the Science nerd did her best to reach out; even on the days Riley didn’t want to talk, Isadora was there.

She can’t talk to Farkle. She’s also Maya’s friend and Riley couldn’t put him in a situation like that. It’s obvious why she can’t talk to Zay; and hell, Riley can’t talk to Lucas. Not Lucas of all people. To some degree, she was able to open up to Aria. Her roommate is very supportive and so good at giving rational advice but it’s Smackle who knows the characters in her story. It’s Smackle who talks sense into her when she’s being stupid.

Maya is coming home today—not in the city. She’s heading straight to Rochester which makes it feel like she isn’t home because it’s far; and maybe that’s good. With this distance, Maya can’t shake the illusion of stability Riley built around herself.

After almost breaking down that fateful night of Maya’s art show, she walked back in like she’s okay. She didn’t want to cause a scene, didn’t want to steal a moment from Maya’s night. She also didn’t know how to react. You don’t learn something like that and just… what? Move on?

Maya’s been in love with her all along—for how long, Riley isn’t sure. All she knows is Maya watched her date Lucas. Maya watched her be with somebody else, and how did she endure that? How much pain did Maya have to go through just to make sure Riley is happy?

There was a time when Maya would walk her to where she’d be meeting Lucas for their date and Riley still remembers how cold Maya’s hands always are on those nights and now, she finally understands why.

How could she put Maya through that pain and not know?

How does it feel to watch somebody you love, love somebody else?

Is this why Maya went away?

Riley feels so stupid. She thinks she’s got the answers. Everything that happened, with Maya going away and that poem on Maya’s painting… if she sat down and really thought about it, she’d have the pieces to put everything together.

Isadora clears her throat and that’s when Riley snaps back to reality.

“You know Maya’s the only one who has the answers, right?” Isadora tells her like it’s the simplest fact found in every grade school Science book.

Riley lets out a heavy sigh.

“How’s acting normal going for you?” Isadora asks when Riley wouldn’t say anything.

“Like I’m dying,” she answers, standing from her seat on the bed and then walking to the bay window.

“Technically, we don’t know how dying feels like so there’s no way we could compare that—”

She gives Isadora a look.

“—oh, we’re being poetic.”

Riley lets out a small laugh, forever grateful for Isadora’s lack of empathy. For other people, that may seem negative or even unlikeable but Isadora’s their great equalizer. Somebody who anchors them back to reality when they float above their heads.

It’s grounding how Isadora tells it like it is, helping Riley absorb what she already knows: that the only way to pull her out of this emotional torture is to talk to Maya. Isadora does not beat around the bush, does not sugarcoat anything—albeit she really doesn’t know how to but it still counts.

But despite numerous real talks from Isadora, Riley can’t find it in her to just talk to Maya. It’s hard because there’s her parents; and it’s scary because she thinks she might want Maya to whisper words of love to her ear. But after that, what? They could be together and what if it doesn’t work out? Are they going to survive that?

Riley isn’t even sure if she likes Maya or if she’s in love with Maya. All she knows is Maya was in love with her once and she wants to do something with that information. It’s just too important to sweep under the rug.

Riley looks around the small space of the bay window, flashbacks instantly invading her mind. So many important moments of her life happened here. Now, it’s just another window in a city of eight million—and maybe because it was never about the space. It’s always been about the person she shared this space with.

Now, this place holds no meaning—except once upon a time, this bay window belonged to Riley and Maya.

“Riley, when was the last time you spoke to Maya and meant it when you said you can’t wait for her to come home for the summer?”

“I always mean it when I say I can’t wait for her to come home.”

Isadora nods like she isn’t buying any of it.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Isadora suggests, her voice hinting the slightest bit of enthusiasm.

“I don’t want to,” Riley sort-of whines. She really doesn’t want to.

“Come on,” Isadora prods, standing from her seat. She walks until she’s standing right in front of a pouting Riley. “She’s been worried about you, you know.”

“Maya?”

Isadora nods, “She told me you haven’t been yourself lately. I mean, considering everything, it’s probably normal that you’re not acting like yourself but it’s probably different and maybe—”

“You’re rambling,” Riley interrupts before the girl runs out of breath and passes out. “I’ve done my best to act normal, you know, considering the circumstances. I did everything right. I answered all her calls, did Facetime whenever she wanted to. I laughed at every joke she cracked. I don’t know what gave me away.”

“She’s Maya,” is the only thing Isadora says.

Riley looks at her, releasing a heavy sigh. She stands up, defeated, “Okay, let’s take a walk.”

.

Central Park in June is… bright.

On a normal day, Riley would enjoy it. People around her are smiling, the greens of nature around her are greeting her vividly as if it waited for her to come back.

But right now, all Riley feels is a cold, bitter realization that maybe none of these things mean anything at all. Not when her entire world is unrecognizable.

It’s funny because she and Maya aren’t even fighting. Riley is just in her feelings lately. With her finally processing that her dad’s probably going to be out for a long time, and her mom’s always struggling to keep it together. Riley’s body is somehow learning to skate around the truths that hurt inside her home. She’s learned how to avoid not stepping on the figurative broken glass that lay on their living room, a place where they huddled on every weekend watching a family movie. It’s been a few weeks without her dad and her brain has finally learned how to mask that pain and find another kind of pain she can focus on.

Unfortunately, her brain found Maya. Always, always goes back to Maya and God. When is she going to learn how to skate around this topic, too? Everytime she dodges, the hole in her heart just gets bigger.

They spoke on the phone last night, talking about everything and nothing at all. And is this what growing up is like? Just a constant battle of emotions that you try to suppress but eventually slams you right in the face when you least expect it.

“It doesn’t taste good,” Isadora mutters, effectively pulling Riley out of her internal monologue.

Riley looks at Isadora and sees her just about to finish the watermelon smoothie they brought by the park entrance.

“You finished the drink.”

“Because I paid for it,” the shorter girl argues, looking at the drink as if she’s truly disgusted with it. “The tourists get scammed all the time.”

Riley chuckles, “Is this your first time to try this?”

“Mmmhmm,” Isadora mumbles her response. She finds the nearest trash bin and disposes the cup. In a few seconds, she’s back and walking next to Riley, matching her pace perfectly.

“May I ask you a question?”

“You’ve been asking me a lot of questions lately.”

“I haven’t asked you this one.”

Riley’s heart skips a beat. Everytime Isadora asks her a question, something changes in her. It’s like Isadora pulls to the surface everything Riley tries to suppress deep inside.

“If you knew then, everything you know now, would it change a thing?”

There it is again.

Riley opens her mouth to say something but no words come out.

She gives it a thought.

You know how… when you learned something new about something, everything you know related to that something changes. Suddenly, all the little gestures, all the late-night phone calls, all the times Maya went out of her way to make sure Riley is happy… they all mean something else.

They all mean that Maya has been telling her she loves her and Riley thought it was a different kind of love, when it’s another kind of love. But what’s the point of these thoughts when there’s nothing she could do but wallow in self-pity?

“I don’t know,” is all Riley says.

“Let me change the question,” Isadora counters, pausing a bit as they turn the corner. There’s less people on this side because it’s far from the reservoir. “Would you have loved her back? Let’s say she confessed and told you about her feelings, would you have returned it?”

That’s the real question.

Riley hasn’t processed that part yet.

.

She doesn’t answer Isadora’s question.

Isadora doesn’t push.

.

It’s late; her clock reads 11:13 but Riley’s mind is still wide awake.

Maya hasn’t called her to tell her she got home safely. Riley only knows because Maya updated her Instagram with a photo of her baby brother. She didn’t take the initiative to call because Riley can’t do that in this state of mind.

If she asks why haven’t you called me, her voice will shake with need and sorrow—and God, it feels like she already lost Maya while trying not to lose her. She’s losing this war and she knows it.

A knock disturbs her thoughts but this time, the knock doesn’t come from the door. It’s coming from the bay window and once Riley turns to check, a familiar sight greets her.

It’s Maya, grinning from ear to ear.

“Riley!” she yells with a giggle.

Riley sits up from the bed, her mind processing the image she just saw. She’s in middle school again, her insides doing somersaults because Maya is there, and right now Riley feels healed. Riley feels okay because Maya is there, smiling like everything is the same.

She hurries to open the window to let the shorter girl in.

“When did you learn to lock this window?” Maya asks as she lets herself in. She struggles a bit and Riley finds it cute so now, there’s a smile on her face. The Maya Effect, she guesses.

“Since the crime rate has gone up in the city,” Riley responds as she takes a seat. Maya automatically settles next to her.

Riley observes Maya. There’s something different about her right now. It’s not the way she looks or the way she’s looking right back at Riley. It’s a feeling—like something is about to happen.

“I’m not staying,” Maya opens as she stands. “My dad is downstairs and we’re driving back to Rochester.”

“You drove here just to drive back home?” Riley asks, eyes wide in confusion.

Maya nods frantically, suddenly out of breath.

It’s when Riley notices that her demeanor has changed. That smiling woman from earlier has disappeared. This is nervous Maya. This is I’m about to tell you something you wouldn’t like Maya.

Riley braces herself for the impact.

“I just—” the usually confident girl stutters. There’s red flags around Riley she couldn’t ignore. “I had this whole speech on my travel from Lancaster to Rochester and then from Rochester to here. I had my mind made up, you know.”

“Maya, what—”

“But I just—” another one, “I’m going to ask Tori to be my girlfriend.”

There’s two full seconds that Riley doesn’t feel anything; two full seconds of absolute emptiness, absolute numbness. And then it’s an avalanche.

Things are always so fast with Maya. It feels like Riley is chasing her around, trying to keep up, and the other girl just doesn’t stop to let Riley breathe.

“I’m—” Riley tries but there’s just no words beyond that.

I’m happy for you.

I’m glad you’re finally asking her.

I’m hurting in all the places I shouldn’t hurt and I don’t know how to tell you this.

She could pick her poison but her throat is dry and there are tears brimming in Maya’s eyes.

“I just feel like I needed to tell you,” Maya explains. She’s calmer now, as if the hardest part of her speech is over. She’s pacing by the space next to Riley’s bed, her hands finding the hem of her shirt. She takes a few deep breaths before she stops pacing.

She sits on the floor and rests her back against bed while Riley remains seated, frozen on her spot by the bay window. Her bestfriend looks up to her, eyes shining with unshed tears. She’s heartbroken, that much Riley knows.

“She’s great,” Maya tells her, voice low and convincing. “We’re different. But somehow also the same,” she continues; every word seemingly designed to break Riley’s heart. “She’s supportive and she’s always there.”

Riley takes a deep, shaky breath. She nods as she looks away from Maya’s gaze.

“That’s—”

good.

…amazing.

…something I don’t know how to process.

“That’s—“ she stutters again.

“That’s what?” Maya asks, perking up from her seat. Maya is clearly here for some answers; which is so unfair because Riley has questions, too.

When she doesn’t say anything, Maya speaks up again, “You saw the painting, right? The big one. I assume you saw it, if not at the night of the exhibit then you surely see it at your mom’s café because Topanga fucking bought it.”

There’s anger in her voice now.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say something, anything,” Maya continues. “But that was January and it’s what now, June? I think I’ve waited long enough.”

Riley swallows a non-existent lump in her throat. Maya stands like she’s ready for Riley to come at her with anything, like she can take whatever Riley’s about to throw at her.

“What, Riley? Say something. I’m so—”

“—what?” Riley interrupts. She didn’t intend for it to sound so angry but comes out like that. And God, she doesn’t know where this anger is coming from but it’s here and burns, and it’s all she feels. “Tired? Of what? Of running? Of not saying anything? Of going back and forth between New York and Lancaster when you could’ve been here the entire time? You’re so what, Maya?”

Maya is taken aback by the resentment in Riley’s voice. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at Riley like she doesn’t recognize the girl in front of her.

“Riles,” Maya breathes.

“Maya, I’m tired, too,” she says, punctuating it with a bitter laugh. “I’ve spent the last few months trying to rearrange my life between my parents, and college, and you and that goddamned poem—and what the hell does that mean, Maya? What does it mean? I need you to tell me because I am so done, I am done pretending like everything is okay. That it doesn’t hurt when you actively choose not to tell me things. When you share moments with Tori and you left me with a poem I don’t understand because those may be words, Maya? But that’s not the language I speak. So tell me right now, in a manner I’ll understand—” she pauses.

A beat.

And then all at once.

“Were you in love with me?” she asks, heart threatening to jump out of its place. “No, let me change that question,” another pause, “Are you in love with me?”

There are moments in films and books that change the lives of its characters forever; and Riley thinks of blonde hair and blue eyes, and thinks that maybe, this is it. This is it for her and Maya.

.

Notes:

Thoughts?

(I'm stabbymcgeee on Tumblr, you know. If you want to have a sit-down.)