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❛ ʟᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀ & ʟᴀᴄᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ sʜᴏᴛ
ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ꒱


❝ NO, I DON'T WANNA MESS THIS
THING UP / NO, I DON'T WANNA
PUSH TOO FAR / [ . . . ] / BE THE
ONE I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR MY 
WHOLE LIFE  ❞

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Instead of answering her, Maya stood from where she was sitting and looked directly at Miya. She raised her hand with the friendship ring on it. Although Miya didn't share one with the two girls, they acted like she was bound to the same rules they were— something that both endeared them to her and frustrated her to no end— but she knew what was coming. "Miya, I have to talk to you. Name-twin power. You can't say no."

"I wasn't gonna!" she exclaimed, but the blonde simply reached for her hands and tugged her to her feet.

Riley made to follow them as she always did, but Maya turned to her, barely hiding the pained expression on her face, and shook her head. "Not you."

"But it's always me!" she objected.

"Not-not this time," her best friend countered. "Come on, Miya."

The brunette shot the guys a confused look but they just shrugged cluelessly back at her. Farkle's concerned frown was the last thing she saw before Maya closed the door to their shared room, making sure no one in the living room could hear them. She dropped Miya's hand and began pacing back and forth across the small space, her fingers continuously running through her hair. The blonde's agitation made Miya a bit nervous, knowing how sharp-tongued the other girl could get when annoyed. So, she thought that the best thing to do was remain quiet as Maya worked out whatever she wanted to say. She even remained standing, too apprehensive to move to sit on the bed.

"How did you know?" Maya finally demanded, whirling on her with a slightly panicked look.

"How did I know. . . what?" the Asian girl asked carefully.

"That you liked Farkle."

Her eyes widened a little in surprise, having not expected to return to this particular conversation so soon. Maya was looking at her desperately, all but frantically waiting for her response. Miya chewed on her bottom lip as she tried to think of the best answer she could give her friend, wanting to help as much as possible since the blonde obviously needed it. "Well. . . we've always been close; we were both. . . more different than the rest of our peers, so that brought us together. It helped that my mom was friends with his dad when they were younger, so our friendship was kind of. . . fated, I guess, if you believe in that kind of thing. But what I'm trying to say is that it started out with respect; I was— am— proud of him for being a genius, but I also know that he's more than just his intelligence.

"I thought I would always see him as a friend, but. . . you were kind of right in a way." At the other girl's puzzlement, she explained, "after he transformed to be 'cooler—'" She added air quotes around the word. "—I. . . saw him differently. He was no longer just my kind, loyal, nerdy best friend, but someone I could actually picture myself with. And as much as that scared me, I was also afraid that if he changed back, I would lose that feeling. But I didn't like him like that just because he was no longer wearing turtlenecks; I think I always did but hadn't realized it until then."

Maya nodded slowly, absorbing Miya's words with a contemplative air. "So. . . when did you know it was the right time to tell him?"

"He told me, remember?" she prompted the blonde. "That kind of gave it away. But. . . I guess I didn't have to say anything back; it just. . . felt right. I didn't want to let the moment pass me by in case it never happened again. I couldn't stand the thought of missing my chance."

Maya was quiet for a long moment, her fingers twisting together as if she were working up the nerve to say something. Then, all at once, she blurted out: "I have feelings for Riley."

Miya froze, her breath catching for a second. But the moment of shock passed quickly, and a huge grin broke across her lips. She clapped her hands together excitedly. "Oh my God, Maya! We're both in love with our best friends!"

Maya immediately went red. "I-I don't think it's love!" she stammered, her voice an octave higher than usual.

The brunette's eyes widened, realizing what she had just alluded to. "Oh, right— I didn't mean it exactly like that," she backtracked quickly, her own cheeks flushing. "I just— I'm really happy for you!"

Maya exhaled, running a hand through her hair again. "God, I can't believe I just told you that."

Miya smiled, her excitement softening into something more gentle. "How long have you known?"

"Today," the Hart stated bluntly.

The Asian girl's mouth formed a small 'o' of surprise at the quick turnaround; it had taken her weeks— months— for her to come to terms with her feelings. She thought that Maya was braver than her; the blonde had always had a fire-y personality, never backing down from a challenge, no matter how daunting. Miya supposed it made sense that she treated her emotions the same way.

"Well, thank you. For trusting me." She chuckled a little, shaking her head. "That's the second time someone's come out to me in almost as many weeks."

Maya looked taken aback by the comment, as if realizing for the first time that's what she'd done. "Yeah-yeah, I guess I did." She paused, then guessed, "was the other person Jonah?"

Miya blinked at the unexpected speculation; her friends hadn't spent that much time around Jonah to be able to read him like that, but maybe Maya had made the guess based on what she knew about everyone else and Jonah had been the only outlier. Her best friend had given her the okay to tell the others, so she only hesitated for a second before she nodded. "Uh, yeah, it was."

Now that the blonde had calmed down, Miya patted the space on the bed next to her invitingly. Maya sat down and stared at her hands as she bowed her head. In a quiet voice, she wondered, "so what do I do now?"

"Uh, just to be sure, you really don't have feelings for Lucas?" Miya confirmed.

"No!" Maya responded sharply, her head whipping up as if the brunette had just insulted her.

Miya held up her hands placatingly. "Sorry, sorry, I was just checking." She let out a short breath. "You've really got yourself into a pickle, haven't you?"

"Well, that's why I wanted your help. I mean, I don't even know if Riley likes girls!" the other teen declared exasperatedly.

"Oh!" Miya perked up at that, relieved that there actually was something she could do. "I could find out for you, if you'd like."

"Would you?" Maya pleaded hopefully. "If I ask it'll be too obvious, especially now that she thinks I. . . like Lucas." She spoke the last two words as if they tasted foul in her mouth.

The brunette patted her on the shoulder. "Not to worry, name-twin. I'll make sure to do it so subtly that she'll never know what hit her."

🌎🌎🌎

As they got ready to go out that night, Miya could feel the tension between the two girls. She tried to lighten the mood by coming up with conversational topics herself— anything that didn't have to do with Texas, rodeos, or feelings— but neither teen was receptive to her efforts. When the finished, they went out side to join the boys on the porch with Riley in the lead.

Pappy Joe nodded at them respectfully from where he sat in his rocking chair. "Whoa. Gentlemen, look how lucky you are. You treat 'em right."

Riley beamed at him warmly. "Thank you, Pappy Joe." Her gaze flicked up to the darkened sky. "I see why you get homesick for Texas sometimes, Lucas. I never knew that the sky had this many stars." Lucas followed her gaze but didn't say anything, so she continued: "you know what else? I don't get nervous when I'm with you anymore." She pulled him into a rough sideways hug and clapped him hard on the shoulder. "We're doing the right thing."

The Texan pulled his eyes away from the sky to give the brunette next to him a disbelieving look. "Right."

She sighed reminiscently. "Remember when we couldn't even say 'hi' to each other? Remember how we'd go 'hi,' 'howdy,' 'hi.' Remember?" She clapped him on the shoulder again. "Now watch this. Say 'hi' to me."

"Hi," he drawled slowly.

"Hi, Lucas. What up, brah? What's up with you, man? You good? You cool?" Riley waved her arms around awkwardly as she tried to emulate casualness.

Miya glanced worriedly at the blonde next to her, but Maya was an expert at keeping her face neutral; she appeared entirely unaffected by her best friend's over-the-top compensation to hide her feelings.

Lucas was still watching the Matthews skeptically, unable to say anything besides, "hi."

She fidgeted with the bracelets on her wrist. "Still got some catching up to do."

"Riley, I. . . I don't even know what's going on right now," he admitted.

"What's going on is that we're gonna be the best of friends and care about what each of us has to say for the rest of our lives," she insisted.

"Yeah, I sort of thought we had that," Lucas remarked. "What does brother and sister mean?"

"It means. . . you know. . ." Riley balled her hands up into fists and lightly punched the Texan on the chest. "Poom!"

"Hey!" he protested, annoyed.

She punched him on his other arm. "Ping!"

Lucas lifted his hands to protect his chest, scolding her, "Riley!"

Riley chuckled and pointed at him. "Ha, you said that just like a brother would."

"Well, can I hit you back?"

The brunette shook her head solemnly. "No."

"Only you get to hit me?" he demanded.

She nodded. "We're just like how you and Maya were." There was a moment of silence as Riley geared herself up for. . . something, which was soon made clear when she burst out: "ha-hee!"

Maya let out a disappointed sigh. "You don't even do it right."

Riley turned to her pointedly. "Oh! Maya, I thought you weren't talking to Lucas."

"I'm not talking to him. I'm talking to you."

Lucas walked forward to address the blonde. "Maya, are you seriously not gonna talk to me?"

The Hart's impassive façade faltered for a second, her gaze hardening into a glare. "I have nothing to say to you."

Lucas exhaled sharply, his grip on his belt tightening. "Maya, come on. If you're mad at me, just tell me why."

Maya crossed her arms and tilted her head at him. "You think I owe you an explanation?"

"I think," Lucas started, tone measured, "that we've been friends long enough for you to at least be honest with me."

Miya, who had been shifting uncomfortably, nudged Maya's arm with her elbow. "Maya. . ." she whispered, an unspoken plea for her to ease up.

"Everything's fine," she grit out, trying to adhere to her friend's gentle warning. "We're all friends and we're going to know each other for the rest of our lives. Let's all be happy!"

She spoke the last sentence with so much sarcasm that Zay arched a brow at her tone. "Is it just me, or does she sound like she doesn't actually want us to be happy?"

"Can we just get on with our night?" the blonde requested with an air of forced calm. "It's our first evening in Texas; we shouldn't waste it by just standing around and talking. We can do that in New York." She paused, realizing she didn't have an activity to propose. "What should we do?"

Farkle stood from the porch swing he'd been sitting on. "I've been reading about Austin, and they call it a music city. They call it the live music capital of the world."

"That's absolutely what we should do," Zay decided. "Show them the town and listen to some music."

Maya let out a breath of relief as they all moved on. Riley looked like she wanted to keep hashing things out, but she was in the minority. Lucas quickly agreed with his best friend. "Yeah! Anyone good playing tonight?"

Pappy gazed at them thoughtfully. "If I was a young buck trying to impress my friends, I might suggest Chubby's Famous Barbecue Pit. Always good eats, always good music."

"Hey," Miya chimed in brightly, "when my mom was growing up, she and her friends went to this restaurant in Philly that was also called Chubby's. I don't think it served barbeque, though. If it's anything like my mom's favorite place, it'll be great."

Farkle glanced at her uneasily. "But barbecued foods aren't good for you."

Pappy Joe pinned him with a dangerous look, his eyes hidden under the shadow created by the brim of his cowboy hat. Lucas knew his grandfather well enough to hastily pull the girls and Zay out of the way as the older man stood threateningly. "Let me tell you what ain't good for you."

The genius remained unfazed by the intimidation tactic and gave the Texan a once-over. "You're not gonna do anything to me because you know I'm a New York intellectual and you don't want to be a cliche."

Pappy Joe kept his gaze on Farkle as he spoke evenly: "Lucas, fetch me my shotgun."

"Okay," Lucas conceded nervously.

"Lucas!" the teen protested.

He swallowed and looked between the two of them warily. "Okay."

"Okay," Farkle concurred. "I'll go to Chubby's, I'll eat your food, I'll listen to your music, but don't expect a changed Farkle, hombre."

🌎🌎🌎

The walk over was filled with yet more stunted conversation, though Zay had the best results as he talked at length about Vanessa and didn't need anyone to contribute to his diatribe. The girls had fallen behind the boys slightly, though their male counterparts kept glancing back to make sure they were okay. When it got to the point that Miya couldn't stand the tense atmosphere anymore, she burst out: "Riley, do you like girls?"

"Miya!" Maya rebuked her sharply, betrayal flashing in her eyes before it disappeared.

Riley started at the question, frowning as she looked over at Miya. "Uh. . . what?"

The brunette shrugged, feigning nonchalance even as she felt Maya's glare burning into the side of her head. "You know. Like, do you like girls? Romantically."

Riley blinked, her expression a mixture of shock and bewilderment. "I-I've never really thought about it," she admitted, her brows drawing together. "Why are you asking?"

Miya paused, glancing briefly at Maya, who was pointedly looking anywhere but at Riley. "No reason," she defended herself too quickly, then winced. "Okay, well, maybe a reason."

Riley tilted her head, suspicion creeping into her voice. "Wait— are you asking for you?"

Miya snorted. "Not even close."

The Matthews couldn't help but laugh at her response. "Good. You're not my type."

Before Miya could respond, Farkle, who had clearly been eavesdropping, turned back with an amused smirk. "Hey, hands off, Matthews. You might've been my wife once upon a time, but that was long ago. Now I won't be afraid to play dirty if you're trying to steal my woman."

The Asian girl's eyes widened, stunned by his lighthearted defense. She felt heat rush to her cheeks and she hissed, "Farkle!" in embarrassment.

He just grinned wider. "What? I can't have her mucking up my experiment."

Miya huffed, crossing her arms but unable to fight back the way her face was burning. She was still getting used to this— Farkle being open about them, casually referencing her being his future girlfriend like it was the most natural thing in the world. Trying to regain her composure, the brunette scoffed good-naturedly. "Please. She'd be lucky to get me."

Farkle shook his head, knowing his friends well enough to tell when they were joking. The boys eventually lost interest in their conversation, Zay picking up where he left off about Vanessa, and Lucas engaging just enough to keep him going. Once they were distracted, Riley took a breath and glanced back at Miya. "I wouldn't be completely against it," she confessed in a quieter voice. "Trying to kiss a girl, I mean."

Miya fought back a triumphant smile and, without making a big deal of it, flicked her gaze toward Maya, flashing her a subtle thumbs-up. Maya rolled her eyes but couldn't quite suppress the tiny grin that tugged at the corners of her lips.

🌎🌎🌎

Watching Farkle consume an entire plate of barbequed ribs was. . . disturbing to say the least. Miya had to avert her eyes while she ate, otherwise she would've lost her appetite. But, that was a testament to how good the food was— probably better than her mom's Chubby's, if Juliet's stories were anything to go by— and it didn't take long to finish their meal. They cleared their spot— since it was the casual kind of place that didn't have table service— and, after Riley dumped the last of their dishes into the receptacle, she marched over to Lucas. "Hey, Huckleberry, are we dancing or what?"

"Oh, we can do that?" he snarked. "Is that part of the new rules?"

She glanced over to where a few other restaurant goers had taken spots on the dance floor and were moving in a coordinated fashion. "This kind of dancing? Sure."

He set his hat on his chair and hurried over to him as Maya chose a seat next to Miya. She watched as the Texan began to fall into the rhythm next to her best friend. Farkle's brows furrowed as he saw the blonde slumped. "Maya, what's going on with you?"

"I-I don't. . ." She met Miya's gaze helplessly, not sure if she wanted to share everything with the rest of their friends yet. The Asian girl gave her an encouraging look, recalling how relieved Maya had been after the blonde talked about her feelings with her. In a low voice, she revealed: "Riley's got it wrong. It's not Lucas I have. . . feelings for."

Farkle's eyes narrowed at her thoughtfully as the gears in his brain whirred to put the equation together. "You were. . . angry at Lucas because you're. . . jealous of him."

Zay's mouth dropped open in shock and he let out a low whistle. "I did not see that coming."

The genius shot the other teen a scolding look before he turned back to Maya. "You care about her."

"Of course I care about her," she argued. "How could you not care about Riley?"

Then, he echoed the words that had been spoken to him not long ago: "you really care about her."

"I will kill you," she retorted.

After getting over his initial shock at the information Maya shared, Zay relaxed and leaned back in his chair. "I'm not gonna care about anybody for the rest of my life, alright? I tried it once. Didn't work. From now on, I like nobody."

"Zay?" A pretty, dark-haired girl approached their table curiously.

"Unbelievable," he sighed.

"How's New York been treating you?" she inquired.

"Good, yeah," he replied, his voice more high-pitched than normal. "Just trying to fit in. Making new friends. . ."

She glanced at the two girls and Farkle who accompanied him. "Well, looks like you made some. Wanna introduce me?"

"Yeah. Um, this is Farkle. . ." He gestured to the genius.

Farkle tipped his hat at her. "Texas lady."

"And my friends, Miya and Maya," he finished.

Maya slapped her hand on the table and rose to her feet sharply. "You did not just do that."

He stared at her blankly. "What?"

"You did not just introduce your girlfriend as your friend," she snapped, taking a seat next to him.

Zay continued to look perplexed, letting out an awkward cough as he repeated, "what?"

"Isaiah Earl Babineaux. . ." she began firmly.

Vanessa's brows furrowed. "Your middle name is Earl?"

"No."

Maya leaned closer to him. "The next time you introduce your girlfriend as your friend, we are through. Do you hear me?"

"I mean, I hear you, but I. . ." he stuttered, completely caught off guard by her odd behavior.

"Put your arm around me," Maya ordered him. He hesitantly followed her directions as she added, "twirl my hair. Call me honey nugget."

"Hi, honey nugget," he echoed, his voice warbling nervously.

The blonde rested her chin on her hand. "Hi, hunkalicious."

"A little possessive, no?" Vanessa noted.

Maya smiled at her with faux sweetness. "Well, the good ones you don't let get away, you know what I mean? With all the girls chasing him around New York City, you have to swoop right in or he'll be gone." She shot Miya a pointed look.

The Asian girl shook her head rapidly. "No, no, no—"

"I said, you have to swoop right in or he will. . ." she reiterated forcefully.

Thankfully, Riley came running over, saving Miya from incurring further second-hand embarrassment. (Or, she supposed, that would just be embarrassment.) The brunette took the empty chair on his other side. She forced Zay to put his arm around her shoulders as she declared, "Isaiah Hank Babineaux."

"No. . ."

"I don't care," Riley insisted. "I only care that you don't let Maya get her hooks into you when you know you are mine."

Zay pulled his arms from around the two girls' shoulders. "This is my friend, Riley."

Maya met her best friend's gaze. "Now, how do you like it when he calls you a friend, Riley?"

She beamed, not understanding the context. "I like it."

"No, you do not like it," Maya corrected her sternly.

Her eyes widened and she corrected herself robotically, "I do not like when you call me just friend."

"Well, what would you like for me to call you?" Zay wanted to know.

Riley looked at him hopefully. "I would like for you to call me. . . Cotton candy face."

Maya patted her reassuringly. "Good girl. I know that was hard."

"Zay, is it possible I've misjudged you?" Vanessa wondered, watching the trio curiously.

"It's possible, Vanessa," Riley acknowledged.

Vanessa arched a brow at the use of her name since she hadn't been formally introduced. "How do you know my name?"

"Um. . ."

Riley's eyes widened with alarm. "Too much."

"Too much," Maya agreed.

Even Farkle seemed to recognize the awkward turn the conversation had suddenly taken. "Too much."

"Too much," Miya chimed in as she and her friends hastily fled the table.

It was just in time, too, as the night's host went up to the microphone to introduce the guest stars for the night. "Hey, everybody. Welcome to Chubby's Famous Barbecue, home of the best ribs in Texas."

"I grew up here!" Farkle shouted over the applause.

Used to comments from the crowd, the announcer just took his interruption in stride: "okay, well we're about to introduce two lovely ladies and one of them grew up here as well, about two hours down the road in sugar land. Ladies and gentlemen, please help me welcome Maddie & Tae!"

"Well, it feels real good to be back home in Texas," Maddie shared.

Tae nodded, following up with: "this first one's a love song and it's called No Place Like You."

Farkle leaned closer to Miya so she could hear him as the audience applauded again. "Do you want me to call you honey nugget?"

The brunette grimaced with such disgust that it made him to grin. "Please don't."

"Good," he declared. "I like 'Nacci better, anyway."

"Me, too." Miya gave him a fond look and, taking only a second to gather her courage, placed her hands on his shoulder and leaned against him, resting her head on his arm as they let the music fill the air around them.

🌎🌎🌎

Like with most good things, their night had to come to an end. The group traipsed back to Lucas' family ranch, tired but more content than when they'd set out. They found his grandfather in the same place they'd left him: happily rocking in his chair on the porch. He chuckled at them as they climbed the stairs, with Lucas asking, "you've just been sitting here, Pappy Joe?"

"Oh, after you run around enough, you'll find that a comfy chair on your own front porch is your favorite destination." He straightened, pushing himself into a standing position as he remembered something. "Oh, by the way. . ." He tapped the windowpane authoritatively. "Lord Chesterfield's letters to his son."

"What?"

"Lord Chesterfield had a son who traveled the world," Pappy Joe informed them.

The teen glanced at each other, confused. Riley voiced what they were all thinking: "what is that? What are you doing?"

"It's a blackboard," he explained.

Riley's eyes flashed with recognition. "My daddy made you do this."

"He's good people."

She sighed, frustrated. "No, he's not."

The older man folded his arms comfortably against his chest, unexpectedly enjoying the teaching moment. "Chesterfield writes him letters about how he should behave himself because a father knows that the only way for a kid to really learn anything is to go out into the world and find out who he is."

Riley pointed at him accusingly. "My daddy is trying to teach us from beyond the grave."

"Matthews wrote us a letter, didn't he?" Maya predicted.

"He did," Pappy Joe confirmed with a chuckle. He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and flattened it to read: "'dear my favorite children. Take care of each other. Enjoy the world.'"

As he handed the letter over to Riley, the group exchanged appreciative looks. They knew that no matter what difficulties or obstacles came their way, their bonds of friendship were strong enough to make it through, and Mr. Matthews' message was only a reminder of that.

"I don't want this night to end," Farkle spoke up wistfully.

"What do you do around here when you just want to look at each other's faces a little longer?" Riley inquired.

As it turned out, the answer was a campfire. Pappy Joe taught the city kids how to set one up— something Farkle knew the theocraticals of but had never put into practice. After they got settled on tree-stump stools, the older man gave them some parting words of advice before he left them on their own: "please do me the great favor of dousing these embers real good when you're done. That house and me might be real old, but we ain't quite ready to burned down yet."

Maya tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "Well, I never thought I'd say anything like this, but I'm real sad I don't have a Pappy Joe of my own."

He smiled warmly at her. "Thank you, Maya. I wish you'd consider me yours till the time I. . . I. . . you know. . . bleh." He clutched his chest and mimed dying.

She grinned at his dramatic acting. "Okay."

"You guys were lucky," Farkle told them.

"How come?"

The genius raised his eyes to the sky, which was filled with millions of twinkling stars— stars that they didn't usually get to see thanks to all the light pollution in New York. "To grow up out here. To have this sky. . . and the stars. This has been the best weekend of my life. Thank you."

Riley voice had a determined edge to it as she requested, "promise we'll always be friends no matter what."

"Riley—" Maya began, but the brunette cut her off.

"Promise," she insisted, her brown eyes meeting her best friend's intently. "No matter what happens, I am telling you that I will always be your best friend. No matter what."

"Oh." Never one to let a challenge slide, she started to counter: "there's nothing I could do—?"

"No, there's nothing you could do, Maya," Riley pronounced firmly, her gaze never wavering from the blonde's. "Do you understand? It's you and me until the time we. . . You know. . ." The both clutched their chests in the same way Pappy Joe had. "Bleh."

Miya's lips curled up fondly at her friends, feeling in no way excluded because of their commitment to each other. She knew they cared about her, too, and they hadn't left her out to be mean; this really was just between the two of them. She wasn't part of the triangle, after all— thank god— and they needed the reassurance between each other more than ever.

Footsteps pulled her from her thoughts and the group's attention fell on Vanessa, who was approaching them tentatively. "Zay."

"Vanessa?" he questioned the girl, getting to his feet.

"Pappy Joe told me you were out here," she explained.

"You were looking for me?" Zay queried.

"I wanted to tell you I was sorry."

He frowned, not understanding where she was coming from. "What'd you do?"

"I never really gave you a chance," she admitted. "Now I'm too late because I could never steal you away from your new friends. . . Could I?"

Zay turned to take in the group that had become like family to him. "Steal me from these people? No. No, you couldn't."

"What if I bought you ice cream?" she proposed, a teasing lilt to her tone.

He exhaled, smiling a little at their familiar banter. "You know, Vanessa. . . They're not really both my girlfriends. Or either of 'em."

"I think I knew that," she told him with a laugh. "That's not what impressed me. They're your friends who stuck up for you, so I must have missed something. . . Or you must have changed."

"Well, I've learned that people change people," he shared.

Riley sighed at her father's sustained presence. "Hm, from beyond the grave, he's teaching us."

"We're breaking up with you, honey nugget," Maya informed him. "Let her buy you ice cream."

"Vanessa, you made a mistake with this one. He's pretty wonderful," Riley remarked.

"Well, let's go see," Vanessa suggested.

Miya watched their connection and then glanced at the boy beside her, wondering what it would be like to hold his hand. The triangle didn't need their presence to complicate things further, and Maya and Riley knew she would always be there for them if they asked. But, right now, she wanted to do something for herself.

"Do you want me to buy you ice cream, Farkle?" she asked, causing the teen to look at her curiously.

"What?"

"Do you want me to buy you ice cream?" she restated hopefully.

His expression softened and he nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Miya beamed at him and stood, offering her hand. He followed her lead and accepted her gesture, finally, finally, intertwined their fingers. Both of their hands were warm from being so close to the fire, but it paled in comparison to the fluttering heat that spread through her chest. Farkle glanced down at their joined hands, his thumb brushing over her knuckles absentmindedly. A small, almost incredulous smile played on his lips, as if he couldn't quite believe this was happening.

"Your hands are warm," he noted softly.

"So are yours," Miya observed, squeezing just a little to let him know she was still there, still holding on.

🌎🌎🌎

The ice cream parlor was brightly lit compared to the quiet, darkened country roads. It had a more old fashioned theme with house-made flavors and a small selection to choose from. It seemed like Zay and Vanessa had chosen to take their ice cream on the road since neither of them were in the shop when Miya and Farkle arrived. After choosing their flavors, they took a seat at one of the unoccupied two-tops. There wasn't much of a crowd; just a few other couples who talked in low voices so everyone could converse easily.

They sat in a companionable silence, the kind that spoke of two people who were completely comfortable in each other's presence. They occasionally glanced up at each other, their gazes meeting every so often so that Miya would look away again, feeling her cheeks heat up whenever he caught her watching him. Farkle was the one to speak first, his tone even and measured as he began: "the scientific theory has seven main principles: problem, research, hypothesis, experiment, observation, analysis and conclusion. It is a well-substantiated explanation of some aspect of the natural world, based on a body of facts that have been repeatedly confirmed through observation and experimentation, not a guess or an opinion."

Miya's focused her attention on him, her interest piqued. She always liked it when Farkle took the time to teach the concepts he knew to her— it made their knowledge disparity feel less obvious, especially since he made an effort to not explain it condescendingly. In this case, she was, of course, already aware of the scientific theory, but she was curious to know where he was going with this.

"Earlier this year, I discovered that I had a problem," he carried on. "Being around my best friend made me feel. . . different than I always had in the past. At first, I thought it was a temporary anomaly— perhaps my brain reacting to some external stimulus I hadn't accounted for. But when the feeling persisted, I moved on to the next step: research. I compared how I felt around you to how I felt around other girls— Riley, Maya, Smackle— examining physiological responses, emotional reactions, and cognitive patterns. The results were consistent: none of them elicited the same responses as you did."

Miya rested her chin in her palm, captivated by the way Farkle's mind worked. He could take something as nebulous as emotions and break it down into precise, scientific reasoning. It should have made his feelings sound cold and clinical, but instead, it made them feel more intentional— like he had carefully considered and chosen her, rather than simply falling into his emotions without understanding them.

"So, based on that data," Farkle continued, gesturing slightly with his spoon, "I formulated my hypothesis: I had a crush on you."

Miya's heart did an involuntary little flip at hearing him say it so plainly. "Which is why you told me so on the rooftop."

"Exactly," he confirmed, smiling at her in a bashful sort of way. "And since you told me you felt the same, I embarked on the next phase: experimentation. That's why I wanted to buy your outfit— which, uh. . . is very cute," he added, his cheeks flushing slightly. Farkle cleared his throat and explained: "however, I realized that my experiment was missing a few key elements."

"Like what?" Miya wanted to know.

Farkle set his spoon down and waved subtly at the ice cream parlor around them. "The dating part," he listed, "which we are currently conducting." He then lifted his hand slightly as if recalling the way their fingers had intertwined earlier. "Hand-holding, which we recently tested."

Miya let out a soft laugh, amused by his choice of words but utterly endeared by how seriously he was taking this. "And?" she prompted him.

Farkle's gaze flickered down to his half-melted ice cream for a brief moment before he swallowed and met her eyes again, his confidence wavering just slightly. "The kissing part."

Miya felt her breath hitch. She hadn't been expecting that, though maybe she should have. She blushed as she scrambled to respond in a way that wouldn't sound embarrassingly eager. "Oh." She cleared her throat. "I-I'd say that's pretty essential."

Farkle's lips curved into a small, satisfied smile at her flustered response. "That's very good data," he murmured, almost to himself, before glancing around the parlor. "Though, this isn't exactly where I'd like to conduct that particular experiment."

Miya exhaled a quiet laugh, still feeling her heart hammering in her chest. "No? Not a fan of bright lighting and an audience?"

"I'd prefer a setting more controlled for privacy," Farkle decided, his scientific phrasing making her laugh again. "For accuracy, of course."

She shook her head fondly, warmth spreading through her as she looked at him. He had taken something as chaotic and unpredictable as emotions and turned it into something he could make sense of, and somehow, that just made her like him even more. "Well, you let me know when the conditions are ideal, and I'll be happy to help with your experiment." She hesitated for a moment as her usual worries returned. "Promise me one thing?"

"Anything," he vowed instantly.

"That it's you and me forever, no matter what happens between us," she pleaded. "I don't want what happened to my mom and Shawn— the jerk," she muttered under her breath. "—to happen to us. They used to be best friends and now they can barely be in the same room together. I. . . I kind of understand where Riley's coming from with her fear that if she and Lucas break up, they'll never talk again. I. . . I always want you in my life, Farkle."

Farkle's expression softened and he reached across the table to take her free hand in his. His touch was steady, grounding, as if he could sense the storm of emotions swirling beneath her words.

"Miya," he addressed her, his voice quiet but certain, "there is nothing that you could ever do to change that, and I hope you think the same for me."

She swallowed hard, gripping his hand a little tighter. It was one thing to wish for permanence, but another to hear him say it like a fact— like it was a foregone conclusion rather than a possibility.

"I do," she promised, but then added anxiously, "even if we fight?"

Farkle squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Even then."

"Even if we—" She faltered, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Even if we don't work out?"

"Even if that happens," he confirmed. "No matter what changes between us, you are still my best friend. That won't ever stop being true."

Miya exhaled slowly, a weight lifting off her chest. "Okay," she mumbled, relieved. "Good."

Farkle returned her smile, and for a moment, they just sat there, hands entwined over the table. The genius's gaze flicked around the shop and then down at his ice cream, which was just about finished. "Well, if you're done, we could resume our walk?"

Miya also took in the remains of her ice cream and agreed. They got up and cleared their places before heading back out into the night. It didn't take long for darkness to take over the lights of the ice cream parlor and soon they were surrounded by nothing except the wide expanse of sky above and the chirping, scuffling sounds of small nightlife. They walked close together, their hands nearly brushing until Miya reached out and laced their fingers; now that she had done it once, the prospect of doing it again was much less daunting.

She used him as a kind of guide, trusting that he would keep her from tripping, so that she could keep her eyes trained on the stars above, entranced by how many there were. "Farkle, do you remember when you were in your astronomy phase a few years ago?"

"I think I'm kind of still in it," he confessed, looking up once more at the sky unobstructed by light pollution. "Why do you ask?"

"You were really into black holes," she recalled, glancing at him in amusement.

"Well, yeah. They were just about the only thing that would affect my eventual ascension to world domination," he reasoned. "I mean, who wants to be ruler of. . . nothing?"

Miya giggled at his response. "I. . . kind of remember a few things that you told me about them."

"Like what?"

"Like. . . how they're so dense that not even light can escape. They stabilize the formation of galaxies. And. . . there's three parts: the outer and inner event horizon and the singularity," she shared. "The singularity is the defining moment; the point at which a measurable variable becomes infinite."

He stared at her in awe, his blue eyes softer than she'd ever seen them. Science and Miya didn't really get along; she always needed his help to do their homework— help that he was happy to give her. To hear her talk about something he'd told her so long ago— and the fact that she'd retained it— caught him off guard in the best possible way. She tilted her head at what she considered the strange expression he was wearing. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Farkle blinked. "Like what?"

She gestured toward his face. "Like that."

"Oh." He let out a breath, almost as if he hadn't realized it himself. "I guess. . . because I've never really seen you before, you know?"

Miya's heart stuttered at that. She shook her head fondly, warmth spreading through her chest as she looked at him. "But you see me every day!"

Farkle's face softened into something gentler, more reverent. "Not like this. What made you think of black holes?"

The brunette glanced back up at the stars, feeling their tiny pinpricks of light stretch infinitely across the sky. "I guess I was just thinking about what you talking about earlier. . . about your experiment. It reminded me of how you used to explain black holes to me— how once you cross the event horizon, there's no going back, which kind of sounds like what we're doing now; our friendship— which is linear, simple— is going to become something different."

"And once it does, the change becomes exponential," Farkle realized, feeling his heart begin to pick up speed in his chest. There was something exhilarating about the way they were talking about this, like they were standing on the edge of something monumental. "It's the point of no return." He paused, processing her words. "Just to be clear. Are you comparing us going out together to crossing the event horizon?"

"Yeah," she admitted with a small, sheepish shrug. "It's quite lovely when you think about it like that. And also terrifying."

"Yeah, exactly." Farkle exhaled, glancing down at their joined hands as if considering the implications. "So. . . we should stop thinking altogether. . ."

". . .and just do. Yeah. Of course."

She wasn't sure who leaned in first, but the space between them suddenly felt charged, electric. The night air was crisp, the sky endless, and nothing else existed outside of them.

Farkle didn't move right away, his breath shallow as he searched her gaze. Miya's eyes were wide, her expression open and expectant, and he swore he could see the reflection of the stars in them. His hand lifted before he even realized it, fingers brushing against her cheek before settling there, cupping her face as if she were something fragile and precious.

The brunette's fingers curled into the fabric of his blazer, gripping it lightly, anchoring herself as the space between them disappeared. Their first kiss wasn't practiced or perfect— it was tentative, soft, unsure. Farkle felt the warmth of her lips, the faint taste of blueberries from her ice cream and the hint of vanilla from her lip gloss. It was overwhelming in the best possible way, silencing the constant rotation of facts and figures and analysis that whirled in his mind, and he nearly even forgot to breathe.

Miya sighed against his lips, tilting her head just slightly to press closer. Her free hand lifted to rest over his, fingertips feather-light against his skin. Neither of them knew exactly what they were doing, but it didn't matter. The moment was theirs— quiet and infinite, like the stars above.

When they finally parted, Farkle's thumb brushed absently over her cheek, his own breath unsteady. Miya opened her eyes slowly, her lips parting like she wanted to say something, but no words came. Instead, she just smiled, a little dazed, as if still caught in the gravity of the moment.

Farkle swallowed, his heart still racing. "So," he murmured, voice slightly hoarse. "That was. . . a successful experiment."

Miya let out a breathless laugh, her fingers still tangled in his blazer. "Yeah," she conceded softly.

"I think I might need some more data for proper analysis," he mumbled. She blushed, the tip of her nose turning pink as it always did and nodded. Without giving it another thought, he dipped his head to kiss her again.

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Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Maya, Riley and Lucas were. . . enjoying a very tense fireside atmosphere. The blonde kept glancing at her best friend, whose eyes were on Lucas, while the Texan was watching both girls warily. When he finally couldn't stand the pressure anymore, he clapped his hands to his legs and stood up. "Well, I think I'll just be going now—"

Riley jumped to her feet, nearly tripping them in her haste. "No, wait! You should stay!" she insisted, reaching out as if to physically stop him from leaving. "Right, Maya?"

Maya, still seated, was entirely unconcerned. "Nah, Huckleberry can go." She flicked a glance up at him. "He clearly wants to."

Lucas hesitated, shifting his weight. "I mean. . . yeah," he remarked, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's been kind of a confusing night."

Riley glanced back and forth between them, her expression desperate. "Maya," she whispered, nudging her best friend with her foot. "Come on."

The blonde sighed. "Riles, let him go."

Lucas wasted no time in making his escape, practically speed-walking toward the house. "Goodnight!" he called over his shoulder before disappearing inside, leaving the two girls alone in the flickering glow of the fire.

Riley turned to Maya with a frustrated huff. "Why won't you just be honest with your feelings?"

Maya groaned, throwing her head back. "Here we go."

"Seriously, Maya! I know you like him."

"No, you think you know—"

"Why can't you just admit it? What are you so afraid of?" Riley demanded, stepping closer.

Maya's patience snapped. "Because this isn't about Lucas, Riley! It never was!"

Riley froze, her eyebrows furrowing. "What?"

She exhaled sharply, standing up so she was could make eye contact with her best friend. Riley was looking at her like she'd just spoken another language.

"I don't understand," the brunette said softly, her voice tinged with hurt. "Why couldn't you tell me the truth?"

Maya's throat tightened. Because if she told her the real truth, it would change everything. Because Riley would never see it coming. Because Maya had spent so long pretending that even she had almost convinced herself.

But Riley just kept going, oblivious. "You and Lucas should be together—"

Maya clenched her jaw. "Oh my god, Riles—"

"You couldn't watch him at the rodeo and I know it was because you have feelings—"

Her best friend didn't get to finish because Maya, exasperated beyond belief, cupped her face in her hands, holding her still.

Riley's lips parted in shock, her whole body going rigid. Her breath hitched as Maya's thumbs brushed over her cheeks, her gaze locked onto Riley's wide, startled eyes.

"It's not Lucas," Maya repeated, her voice low, steady. She let the words settle between them, watching as Riley's mind struggled to catch up.

Riley didn't say anything. She couldn't. Her entire world had just tilted off its axis.










A/n: I had to include one of my favorite FitzSimmons scenes since Fitz and Farkle have similar vibes and you can't tell me that they wouldn't be mentor/mentee if they were in the same universe.

But in other news, Miya and Farkle finally kissed!!!!!!!!!!! (But they're not together. . . yet😉)