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❛ ʟᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀ & ʟᴀᴄᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴛᴇxᴀs sᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ
ᴍɪɴᴅ ꒱


❝ SINCE YOU DON'T WANT
ME HOLDING YOUR HAND,
DOES THAT MEAN YOU'RE
PAYING? ❞

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Miya sat between Maya and Riley in the Matthew girl's bay window two days in a row, all of them completely silent. Miya had hoped they'd start talking on their own but, now on day three of dead silence, she realized that she'd be the one who'd have to speak up.

"Okay," she started, the sound of her voice making Riley jump and Maya tense next to her, "who wants to go first?"

"Not it!" they exclaimed at the same time.

She rolled her eyes, having expected that response. "Fine, I'll go first." She felt her face heat up as she confessed quietly, "so. . . uh, after Farkle and I left you guys at the campfire, we got ice cream. We. . . talked while we ate and he kinda got all scientific on me, describing how he realized he. . . he liked me." More warmth rushed to her cheeks, turning the tip of her nose a visible pink. "It was. . ." She cleared her throat. "Uh, cute. And then he explained that his 'experiment' was missing a few key factors, which included hand-holding, going on a date, and. . ." Miya felt like she might spontaneously combust due to how hot she felt, so she buried her face in her hands and mumbled, "'the kissing part,' as he called it."

They both brightened at this. Maya, ever the troublemaker, smirked. "Wait, wait, wait— are you saying that Farkle kissed you? Like, actual lip-to-lip contact?"

Riley jumped to the same conclusion but, instead of openly teasing the Asian girl about it, she squealed and threw her arms around her friend. "Oh, Miya, I'm so happy for you!"

"Okay, yeah, it happened. He kissed me. And it was— it was really nice." Her voice softened at the last part, and despite her embarrassment, her lips quirked as she recalled that night.

Maya wiggled her eyebrows, relieved that she was able to focus on something other than the tension that had been building within her ever since her and Riley's pseudo-kiss. "How nice are we talking? Fireworks? Heart palpitations? The kind of nice that makes you want to write terrible poetry about his eyes?"

The brunette huffed at her friend's teasing. "I am not writing poetry about his eyes." She paused. "Though, he does have really pretty eyes."

Riley squealed again, squeezing Miya tighter. "Oh my gosh, this is so exciting! You like him, he likes you, and now you guys have officially entered a new stage of—"

Miya held up a finger, stopping her mid-sentence. "That's the problem."

The Hart raised a brow. "What do you mean? He kissed you. That's a pretty solid signal."

Her expression clouded over. "After the kiss, he told me that he needed more time to process everything. And since then, we haven't really talked about it. Like, at all. I don't know if he's overthinking or regretting it or—" She flopped back against the cushions. "I just don't know what to think anymore."

Maya and Riley exchanged a glance. For the first time in days, they were both on the same page— this was something they could actually help with.

"Okay, so let's break this down," the blonde started, scooting closer to Miya. "Farkle kissed you. He initiated it. That means he definitely likes you. Farkle doesn't just do things without thinking them through."

Riley nodded thoughtfully. "And he said he needed more time. Not that he regretted it, not that he didn't like it. Just that he needed to process."

Miya lowered her gaze, picking at the hem of her sleeve. "Yeah, but what if 'processing' turns into 'I changed my mind?'"

Maya scoffed. "Farkle's not gonna change his mind. That boy has been analyzing every aspect of life since the moment he learned how to talk. If anything, he's probably making a giant pros and cons list about dating you."

"That does not make me feel better," Miya complained.

"It should," Maya insisted. "Because at the end of the day, Farkle is Farkle. And Farkle doesn't do anything halfway. He likes you, Miya. You just have to give him time to catch up with his own feelings."

The Asian girl frowned, feeling only marginally better. She couldn't help but think that, now with everything going on between the triangle— whatever it was— he would put helping his friends first before addressing their relationship. And, while she understood that was who he was (and one of the reasons why she liked him so much), this drama could go on for months— or, heaven forbid, years. But, she also knew that Maya was right; she had to trust her best friend and keep in mind how much of an analytical thinker he was.

"Okay," she murmured, exhaling. "Okay."

"Okay?" Riley echoed hopefully.

"Okay," Miya confirmed, sitting up straighter. "I'll wait to talk to him until he's ready. I just hope I can be with him for New Year's. After all, the one who you're with when the clock strikes midnight is how you'll spend the coming year."

Maya grinned. "There you go."

Miya felt some of the tension in her chest ease. Maybe things weren't fixed, but at least she wasn't alone in this. Then, as if realizing all at once that the focus had shifted from her, Riley stiffened again.

Maya noticed.

Miya definitely noticed.

"Oh no," Riley groaned. "Is it our turn now?"

"Yeah," the brunette concurred. "But, it might be easier if we do this one at a time. Who wants to go first?"

"Not it!" both girls exclaimed, again in unison.

"Somebody has to go first," Miya argued. "Maya, why don't we start with you?"

"Why me?" the blonde whined.

She sighed. "Because you're older?"

"Fine," the Hart caved.

Relieved, Riley jumped up from her seat and made a beeline to her door. "Have a good talk!"

Maya folded her arms and slumped back against the pillows as Riley practically fled the room, leaving her alone with Miya. "Traitor," she muttered.

"Now, tell me exactly what happened in Texas," the brunette requested.

The other girl didn't look at her, her gaze dropping down to her lap. "We. . . also had a. . . moment, I guess you could call it. Nothing as obvious as what you and Farkle had, but Riley was so insistent that my feelings were for Lucas that I just. . . snapped. I couldn't take her persistence anymore, so to get her to stop talking and convince her that I wasn't just 'hiding my feelings—'" She made air quotes around the last words. "—that I. . . cupped her face with my hands."

"Cupped her face. . . how?" Miya inquired, her brows furrowed. "I mean, like romantically, or shut-up-now, or—?"

"R-romantically," the blonde stuttered unexpectedly, her typical confidence wavering on the declaration.

"Like how? Show me."

Maya's eyes went wide and she grimaced, disgusted. "Uh, no."

"C'mon. How am I supposed to help you if I don't understand the context?" she bargained.

"Don't wanna," Maya argued, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"Don't be such a baby." Miya tugged the blonde's arms free and maneuvered her hands so they rested against her cheeks, though Maya's fingers remained stiff and straight rather than conforming to the curve of her face.

Miya chided her: "Maya, you're gonna have to commit. You did this to Riley, right? So just— do it properly."

Maya groaned but let her hands relax, her fingers curving around Miya's cheeks. "This is so weird," she grumbled.

"Well, yeah," Miya conceded. "Because I'm not Riley. Just show me what you did."

Maya hesitated, her thumbs instinctively brushing along Miya's cheekbones the way they had with Riley. The memory of that night came rushing back— the way her best friend's eyes had gone as round as dinner plates, how her lips had parted in surprise, the sheer vulnerability in her expression. That was the part that scared Maya the most. She could handle teasing, could handle banter, but the raw honesty of that moment had left her completely exposed.

Miya watched her carefully. "Okay, I think I get it now."

The blonde immediately dropped her hands and scooted back. "Good. Great. We're done."

Miya tilted her head. "Maya, you know this doesn't have to be the end of your friendship, right?"

Maya let out a short, humorless laugh. "That's what people say before everything falls apart."

"But it's not falling apart. Riley didn't run away screaming, did she?"

Maya shook her head, gnawing on the inside of her cheek. "No. But she doesn't know what she wants either. And if I push too hard, if I say the wrong thing, she might decide it's easier if we just—" Her voice hitched and she looked away.

Miya softened. "If she just what?"

"If we just go back to how it was before. But that's the thing-things can't go back to the way they were. I ruined everything."

"You didn't ruin anything," Miya assured her. "You were honest about your feelings. That's a good thing."

"Yeah?" she scoffed. "Tell that to my parents. Every time I let myself care, people walk away."

Miya's brows furrowed. "Your mom's coming back into your life, Maya. She's finally in a place where she can be there for you. And Jack— he adores you. He's not going anywhere."

The blonde shrugged, unconvinced. "Maybe. But it still doesn't change the fact that Riley might not feel the same way."

"No, doesn't," Miya admitted. "But it's something. And Riley? She's not your mom or your dad. She's Riley. She loves you. That's not gonna change just because you surprised her."

Maya exhaled slowly, running a hand through her hair. "You really think so?"

"I know so," Miya promised. "Give her time to figure things out, just like I'm giving Farkle time. You're not losing her."

Maya wanted to believe that. She really, really did. But fear still curled in her stomach, whispering that nothing good in her life ever stayed.

Before they could continue their conversation, the door to Riley's room opened to reveal Cory, with Topanga poking her head over his arm and their daughter standing on her toes to look around both of them. "hiya, girls," Cory greeted them, too brightly.

Miya narrowed her eyes, sensing that something was off. Riley had clearly taken advantage of her 'free time' to rally reinforcements.

"Hi, Uncle Cory, Aunt Topanga," she addressed them slowly, glancing between the three of them.

"Hey, Miya," Topanga acknowledged her warmly.

Maya sat up straighter, mirroring Miya's wariness. "What's up?"

Cory stepped further into the room. "Well we were just having a nice little conversation about how we found Riley wandering the house like a lost puppy while you two were in here talking. That got us thinking— maybe you kids need a little. . . parental guidance during these. . . trying times."

"Dad," Riley complained.

"What?" he inquired, all wide-eyed innocence. "You're going through a lot. And as much as we'd love to respect your privacy—"

Topanga cut in smoothly, "we're your parents. It's kind of our job to meddle."

Miya wasn't amused. "Let me guess. You decided that instead of having the conversation you've been avoiding, you'd distract us all by enlisting your parents?"

Riley gave her a sheepish look. "Maaaybe."

"Riley."

"What? It worked, didn't it?" Riley defended herself. "Now we can all talk together! Group discussion! Bonding time! No more interrogations!"

Miya let out a slow, exasperated breath. "Unbelievable."

Cory clapped his hands together, clearly pleased with himself. "Great! Now that we're all here, let's get started."

He and Topanga squeezed in on either side of the three girls, letting Riley take her original place on Miya's right. Cory looked between the trio, his expression softening "Listen, I know things are changing for you kids. You're growing up, and—" His voice caught noticeably. "I don't want this."

Topanga reached over and patted his arm sympathetically while the girls just stared.

Maya arched a brow. "You don't want what?"

"This!" Cory gestured vaguely. "The growing up! The moments! The feelings! The need for serious talks about relationships! I want you all to stay my little kids forever."

"We're confused," Miya admitted.

"I don't want this either," Topanga told them.

"We're going into high school," Riley objected.

Her mom gave her a stern look. "Do you know what your priority is in high school?"

"High school," the curly-haired man answered.

"It's where you further your minds and you get an education," Topanga reminded them.

"And you know why?" Cory put in, looking at them expectantly.

"So that you're smart enough to not find yourself in a situation like this," Topanga reasoned, shooting her husband a knowing glance.

"We're not in a situation," Riley protested, wanting to pretend nothing had happened for as long as possible so she wouldn't have to worry about hurting the feelings of people she cared about. "Everything's fine."

"Riley?" the blonde prompted her best friend. "We're in a situation."

Miya shook her head at her friend's continued denial. Noticing the Asian girl's exasperation (and knowing she wouldn't be able to avoid the topic for much longer), Riley lamented, "why do we have to have feelings?"

"You don't," her father stated right away. "Get rid of 'em."

Topanga narrowed her eyes at Cory. "I don't think that's the best advice, honey," she commented dryly, then continued in a soft but firm tone: "something happened between you and Riley in Texas."

Maya stiffened and Riley's eyes widened. "She's right here!" the blonde exclaimed. "I'm not talking about this with her right here."

"How else are you gonna talk about it?" Cory wanted to know.

Maya clasped her hands tightly in her lap. "Miya and I talked about it."

"Yes, but I'm not the one you like," Miya interjected. "I can only help you out so much."

Mr. Matthews gave the blonde a disbelieving look. "I didn't think you liked anybody."

Maya flushed slightly as she drawled, "it's my façade."

Overwhelmed by how much potential change his daughter was facing, Cory tried to keep anything else. . . unusual from happening. "Don't use big words correctly. It's not who ya are."

Topanga narrowed her eyes at her husband, amused but trying to stay serious. "You are two— three, with whatever's going on with Miya— confused kids who think you know what you're doing. But you don't. So, don't do anything. Nothing is as easy as it seems when feelings are involved."

Riley looked up at her mother, frustration mixed with confusion. "Mom, it is easy. Lucas is like my brother, and. . . I want Maya to be happy."

Maya's heart stuttered in her chest at that and for a second, she froze, trying to process what it even meant. Was Riley saying she wanted to try a relationship? Or was she just being the good friend she always was and just supporting her?

"You think being the master of Tombstone the bull is hard?" Topanga challenged them. "That is nothing compared to being the master of your feelings, Riley. They will shake you around and they will send you flying. Sometimes you hold on, and sometimes you let go. It's the scariest ride there is."

Riley glanced between her parents uncertainly. "Well, what do you want us to do?"

"Don't feel," Cory declared. "I want you not to feel."

"Do they have to go to high school?" Mrs. Matthews jokingly wanted to know.

"No! I have the power," her husband responded eagerly. "I can hold them back."

The Matthews girl patted her father's shoulder comfortingly. "Dad, you can't hold us back; we're growing up."

He looked at his wife for confirmation. "Can I hold them back?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Can anything hold them back?"

"No," she repeated. Then, she addressed her daughter: "are you okay, Riley?"

The brunette met Miya's gaze, knowing that, despite her avoidance of the conversation was successful this time, the Asian girl wasn't going to let it go. So, she answered quietly, "I'm going to need to figure that out."

"Are you two okay?" the older woman questioned the remaining girls.

"I'm gonna need to let her figure that out," Maya remarked.

"And I will be, I think," Miya added.

Cory's face took on a comically horrified appearance. "Oh, no. . . They're gonna figure it out. What do we do?"

"We trust them," Topanga announced evenly.

The curly-haired man frowned. "That's the worst idea I've ever heard."

🌎🌎🌎

The next day, Cory's frustration with their situation was made even more obvious as he made their discussion for that class about the Hoover Dam. He paced agitatedly in front of them and began to speak the moment the bell rang, leaving no room for opening conversation like he often did. "The Hoover Dam on the Arizona/Nevada border holds back ten trillion gallons of confused fourteen-year-old feelings that look to smack down the concrete structure of your life and my life, and it can't take it and I don't want it, so everybody sit here and nobody move!

"Because as strong as the structural integrity of the hoover dam might be, just one little, tiny drop of water that makes its way through this barrier will chip away at the structural integrity of our lives as we know them, and the immediate result is the end of my personal happiness!"

Unbeknownst to the curly-haired man, a boy in the back of the classroom, Charlie Gardener— who had expressed interest in Riley before— wrote a note to the Matthews girl. He passed it forward so that it went to Zay, then Farkle, and then landed with its recipient.

"So, your assignment is to hold everything back until I die and not let anything through!" Cory finished determinedly. His gaze fell on the teen as he watched her open the folded message.

Although he couldn't see its contents, it read 'since you're free, will you go out with me?' (Apparently, Charlie had found out some of what happened in Texas from Zay, who they were quickly realizing was a terrible secret keeper. Since he at least knew that Riley and Lucas' relationship had changed, Charlie hoped he had a shot with the pretty brunette. Little did he know that she was too busy considering someone else to bother with his advances.)

Her father, however, still gave her a worried look. "Riley, what's that?"

"Nothing," she dismissed hastily, folding the paper back up.

But, the older man wasn't so easily convinced. "Riley. . . did something get through?"

The brunette thought about it. There weren't many things about this situation that she was certain of. She didn't know how she felt about Maya. She wasn't sure if she was over Lucas. She had no idea if she was even romantically interested in girls— though that wasn't out of the question for her. But, there was one thing that was irrefutable: she had absolutely no feelings for Charlie Gardner. Sure, he was nice and she appreciated the effort he made to woo her, but there simply nothing there; no spark, no care, no desire to learn more about him— not like how she felt about her two close friends.

"No," she stated firmly. She turned to Maya. She swallowed hard, trying to steady her nerves. "I—" Riley didn't speak right away, unsure how to articulate what had been swirling in her mind for the past few days. Then, she shared: "Maya, I don't know what this. . . is. But I know that I care about you. And I don't want to lose that, no matter what." She paused, looking at her best friend, her heart hammering in her chest. "But like I said in Texas, I'm not against the possibility of being with a girl. . . I just can't say that this is going to change how I feel about boys, too. I. . . I just can't make that kind of promise, you know?"

"Riley, I don't need you to promise anything. I just. . . I want you to be honest with yourself. And with me." Maya leaned forward, her voice lowering. "We don't have to figure everything out all at once. I want you to be happy, too."

Riley hadn't expected to feel so much relief, but there it was— a lightness in her chest that had been missing for so long. Maybe it was because Maya wasn't asking for something Riley wasn't ready to give. She wasn't pushing her to decide, to label herself, to have all the answers.

"I think it's worth exploring," Riley acknowledged, offering Maya a small, tentative smile. "But I just need you to understand where I'm coming from. I don't know what this means. I don't know what it'll look like."

Maya smiled back, her voice gentle. "I get it, Riles. And I'm not going anywhere. I'm just glad we're doing this. . . whatever this is."

Riley's heart fluttered at the sound of her laugh, the familiar spark of something more than friendship teasing at the edges of her thoughts.

"And as for Charlie," the brunette remembered, glancing at the boy in question, who was still watching her closely, "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested. I'm just. . . not."

As the bell rang to signal the end of the class, Riley stayed behind to catch up with Miya. "Hey. I think I might be ready for that talk now."

The Asian girl gave her a surprised look at the quick turnaround of her feelings, but maybe Charlie's invitation had been the tipping point her friend had needed to come to at least a partial decision about what she wanted to do with her romantic interests. (Miya couldn't blame her; three was way too much to handle.) "Definitely. Meet up after school?"

🌎🌎🌎

After their classes were done for the day, Riley and Miya found themselves sitting in the bay window in Riley's room again. The afternoon light streamed through the glass, casting a warm glow over the space as Riley pulled her knees to her chest, her thoughts still swirling from the day's events.

Miya was the first to break the silence. "So. . . Charlie, huh?" she teased, nudging the brunette next to her. "Someone's a lucky girl with three suitors."

Riley groaned, dropping her head onto her knees. "It doesn't feel lucky, just confusing! I mean, I barely talk to the guy, he invites me to the semi-formal and then— bam! A date invitation." She lifted her head, her brows furrowed. "I just. . . I didn't even have to think about saying no. That means something, right?"

Miya tilted her head. "Yeah. It means you're more caught up with Maya and Lucas than you realize."

Riley sighed, leaning back against the cushions. "I know. And I feel so bad because. . . I don't want to hurt Maya, but I don't want to lie to her either." She hesitated before confessing, "I meant what I said today. I want to try. I care about her. I just don't know if it's the same way she cares about me."

She considered her friend's words carefully. "You don't have to know everything right away, Riley. It's okay to be unsure."

The Matthews girl gave a small nod. "Yeah, that's what Maya said, too. She's not pressuring me. But I don't want to string her along either, you know? What if I try this and realize I really don't feel that way? I'd just be hurting her."

Miya pursed her lips. "Or what if you try and realize you do feel that way? You won't know unless you give yourself the chance. You're figuring yourself out, Riley. And from what I can tell, you don't really want to put a label on things yet."

Riley considered that. "I guess. . . I don't." The idea of defining herself in one specific way felt overwhelming, like a box she wasn't ready to climb into. "I've never really thought about my feelings beyond. . . well, Lucas. And now Maya. It's just. . . a lot."

Miya thought about Jonah and Maya, both of whom had realized their own romantic preferences and felt comfortable enough with her to share them. She liked being that kind of person whose friends could tell them anything and know that she would care about them no matter what. Her experiences in the past week had led her to think more about the LGBTQ+ community than she had before and she had done research— because, as much as she hated reading more than she absolutely had to, she would do anything for the people she loved— to learn how to be more supportive of her friends. Thinking about her new knowledge, she proposed, "you might be queer."

"Queer?" Riley echoed.

"You don't want to put yourself in a box, but you also know you're not totally straight," Miya explained. "'Queer' just kind of covers that uncertainty. It's fluid."

The brunette contemplated that for a long moment, rolling the word over in her mind. It felt. . . right. A little undefined, but not in a way that scared her. More like a space to figure things out on her own time.

"I think. . . that fits," she conceded, a small smile forming on her lips. "I don't know exactly where I land, but I know I don't want to pretend I'm only into guys anymore."

Miya returned her smile, nudging Riley's knee with her own. "See? Progress. You're figuring things out."

Riley exhaled, relieved to have at least one thing that felt like an answer. But then, just as quickly as the relief settled in, a new wave of panic rose in its place. Her expression twisted with fresh uncertainty as she voiced the next concern weighing on her mind: "Miya, what does a first date mean in the language of girl?"

"What?"

"You know!" Riley gestured wildly, as if the answer should be obvious. "With a guy, there's. . . a system. Dinner, a movie, awkward small talk. The whole 'does he pay, do we split, do I offer and hope he insists?' thing. But with a girl? What are the rules? Who pays? What even counts as a date?" She let out a dramatic groan, burying her face in her hands. "What if I mess it up?"

Miya tried— tried— to hold back a laugh, but the sheer desperation in her friend's voice made it impossible. "Riley, it'll be okay. I promise. I'm no expert, but I think it's just about being together and doing something you both like. That's it."

Riley mulled that over. "So. . . if we went to Topanga's, like we always do—"

"—That could be a date," she allowed. "Or if you watched a movie together and held hands? Also a date."

Riley perked up at that. "That's a date? We do that all the time. W-well, not the hand holding part, but. . ."

The brunette grinned. "And yet, you've never freaked out about it before."

Riley pouted. "I'm not freaking out." She deflated under the Asian's girl's disbelieving stare. "Okay, maybe a little."

Miya laughed. "You're overthinking it. Just talk to Maya. Tell her how you feel. Let it be fun."

"You could take your own advice, you know," the Matthews girl huffed.

"Do as I say, not as I do," she responded jokingly.

🌎🌎🌎

After another very agitated History class the next day, Mr. Matthews pulled Farkle aside. He flipped the nameplate on his desk over so that the side with the genius' name showed. "Yeah, that's right. I'm callin' Farkle time. You know why? Because every time it's Farkle time, we learn somethin'. And I need to learn somethin'. Because you were in Texas and I wasn't."

"Yes, I was, sir," he concurred, though his tone was more reluctant than it ordinarily was. With everything that was happening between the triangle of Maya-Riley-Lucas, his experience was being overlooked. While he would never begrudge his friends the limelight, it would be nice to have the same support with the fact that he'd had his first kiss. But, had anyone bothered to ask him why he hadn't spoken to Miya for three days in a row now? No, they hadn't.

Unaware of his internal stewing, Cory queried, "and would you agree that somethin' happened in Texas that's changing everything?"

"Multiple somethings," the teen corrected him.

"Do you know what it is and do you know how to fix it?"

No, because there's more going on than just your daughter's problems. He was too respectful to say that aloud, so he simply stated: "no, sir."

Cory studied Farkle for a long moment, his expression shifting from expectation to something more understanding. "Well, I guess that makes two of us. But you know what we do when we don't know something?"

"We learn," Farkle supplied.

"That's right," the older man confirmed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "And learning starts with asking the right questions."

Farkle's mind raced as he thought about what his teacher was saying. The right questions? What were the right questions? And more importantly, who was actually willing to answer them? Because right now, his friends were too wrapped up in their own confusion to notice that he had a mess of his own.

"I think you're overestimating my ability to fix things, sir," the genius informed him, shifting in his seat. "I'm good at science. I'm good at math. These feelings? They're new and hard to describe. Look, I'm a genius, but when Miya Capelwood looks in my eyes with that beautiful face of hers, I get a feeling which I can only describe as—" A mashup of sounds spilled from his mouth in a way that made up no known word in the English language. Once he was done, he looked up at his teacher and asked, "you feel me?"

Cory's face scrunched up at the odd explanation and he nodded slowly, processing the boy's outburst. "Yeah, I feel you, Farkle. Listen. . . You are Farkle. These people have always been important to you. I need you to figure out what's going on with the three of them and make everything better."

Farkle didn't consent to the request right away. He did want to help. That was who he was: Farkle Minkus, problem solver. But for once, he wanted someone to ask him if he was okay, too. He wanted someone to notice that Texas had changed more than just Maya, Riley, and Lucas.

🌎🌎🌎

While Mr. Matthews recruited Farkle to help his friends figure out their problems, Riley approached Maya with a more nervous-than-normal smile. "So. . . where do you want to go on our date?"

Although she tried to quickly school her expression into a mask of indifference, blonde's eyes widened and a beaming smile flitted across her lips before she could hide it. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," the brunette confirmed. "I just. . ."

"Can't promise anything, I know," Maya reassured her. As skilled as she was in maintaining her unaffected front, she couldn't completely conceal the brightness in her blue eyes that shone with quiet excitement. She understood how much Riley was putting herself out there— it was just one of the many ways her best friend showed that she cared about her— and she wanted Riley to be as comfortable as possible. So, she picked the first familiar place that came to mind (well, second, but they couldn't very well have a date in the bay window.) "Topanga's?"

"O-okay," she agreed.

Maya grinned, nudging Riley's shoulder playfully. "Relax, Riles. It's just you and me, same as always."

Riley let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Right. Just us." Then, she blurted out, "can you not hold my hand?"

"Huh?"

"Not that you would! I mean, maybe you would, but— I don't know how this works, and I don't want to freak out, and you holding my hand might freak me out, so—"

Maya caught the genuine apprehension behind her best friend's words. "Okay, no hand-holding. We'll go slow, alright?"

"Promise?"

The blonde gave her a soft smile, one that made Riley's heart do an unfamiliar little flip. "I promise." After a moment, she couldn't help but quip, "so, since you don't want me holding your hand, does that mean you're paying?"

🌎🌎🌎

"So this is our new relationship?" Maya wondered. She was seated next to Riley in their usual corner of her mom's café. They had a smoothie each, though both were untouched as they sat next to each other in the same kind of silence that had lingered around them the days after they'd gotten back from Texas. As they'd determined, Maya's hands were purposefully nowhere near Riley as she had them clasped around her crossed legs, while the Matthews girl kept hers folded in her lap.

"Yeah," the brunette murmured in a small voice. She hated the fact that she couldn't talk to her best friend like she had always been able to. Riley swallowed, staring down at her smoothie as if it held the answer to all of this— this weird, suffocating awkwardness that had wrapped itself around them ever since they'd decided to stop ignoring what was between them. This wasn't how it was supposed to feel. Or, maybe it was— maybe she was the one making things weird because this was exactly how things had gone with Lucas.

The two continued to stare straight ahead as Farkle entered the restaurant, coming over to where Zay had set up camp to watch the drama unfold. The genius noticed that Miya wasn't present and figured that she'd chosen to escape their friends' current crisis to spend time with her mom, whose remaining days in New York were dwindling to the single digits. (A part of him was secretly— guiltily— relieved that she wasn't there; it would give him more time to figure out his own emotions without feeling the weight of expectation.) "How's it going so far?"

"Weird, man," he answered.

Maya scowled at him. "You don't have to watch."

"I can't look away! Look at 'em!"

The genius observed the two girls' newfound unease with each other. "You think they like each other?

"I do. Or, at least Maya definitely likes her," Zay reasoned. "But I think they liked each other better when they were just friends, no strings attached."

"What about Riley and Lucas?" he inquired.

"Well, I only knew Lucas before I came here, but then I met Riley, and she's just like him," the Texan responded.

Farkle frowned at the familiar wording. "How?"

"The thing we all knew about Lucas is Lucas would do anything for his friends," Zay pointed out. "And I never thought there could be anybody else like that, but Riley is."

He nodded at his friend's explanation. "So you think they are like brother and sister?"

The brunet shook his head. "No, I just think they have a lot in common. I mean, Riley would do anything for her friends, too."

"Yeah," Farkle agreed he observed the girls again and watched as Maya played with her smoothie's straw and Riley fidgeted with her fingers. "And I think she did.

The Matthews girl glanced at her best friend. "So. . . what are you thinkin'?"

"Oh, now?" she questioned with a laugh. "Oh, it's so funny you mention that. Actually, right now, in this exact moment, what I was thinking, was that if we don't start talking now— I mean right now— I'm going to do something drastic. Like, I will literally pour this smoothie over your head." Her eyes locked on Riley's, daring her to test the resolve in her words. "Because I can't do this anymore, Riley. The silence— it's not us. And it's killing me."

"Okay, okay, fine," Riley conceded quickly, panic rising in her chest. "I'll talk." She had to think for a second, unsure of where to even start, her thoughts jumbled in her head. And then, in a desperate attempt to fill the dead air between them, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind: "did Lucas ever tell you the story about how he once delivered a baby horse?"

The blonde froze. Her brow furrowed as she stared at her best friend, unable to comprehend why that of all things had been the first thing Riley thought of. Maya's jaw tightened. Her hands, which had been resting rigidly on her legs, suddenly gripped the sides of her smoothie cup. The playful threat she had made earlier was now very real. The frustration bubbling inside her broke the surface, and without warning, she grabbed her smoothie and— with a swift, almost dramatic motion— splashed it right over Riley's head.

The cold, sticky smoothie drenched Riley's hair and shoulders, causing her to gasp in surprise. The taller girl blinked in shock, then slowly wiped the smoothie from her face. She was about to protest, to say something— but then Maya, her face flushed with a mix of anger and annoyance, grabbed Riley's smoothie and poured that one over her head too.

"Yeah, maybe I deserved that," Riley remarked sheepishly.

🌎🌎🌎

Maya and Riley wanted to give the dating thing another try. They had talked about in an even more relaxed setting— back at Riley's bay window (which made Maya think she should've gone with her first choice)— and had returned to Topanga's later that night with a more understanding viewpoint. They did their best to ignore their friends' watchful gazes.

Miya had rejoined them after spending the day with her mom and had taken up residence at a small, circular table off to the side. Farkle had come in a few seconds after she'd arrived and startled badly upon seeing her sitting there, making her frown with concern. But, he needed to be present to observe the goings-on of their friends, as Mr. Matthews had requested, so he joined her at the empty seat regardless of current whirlwind of feelings towards her. Their two friends were just sitting down for their do-over (in the same exact chairs as before) when Lucas came striding in, followed by Zay.

"Riley, I can't be your brother anymore," the blond declared.

"Hey, Huckleberry," Maya called over to him, "do you think you can pick a better time for this big announcement? Riley and I kinda on a date here."

He was caught off guard; of all their friends, he was least caught up to speed about the love triangle. He knew that Riley had 'broken up' with him because she thought that Maya had feelings for him. The blonde obviously didn't— even he'd seen that— but he didn't know where the girls stood after that. "You are?"

"No holding hands but we're actually going to talk this time," Maya told him. "You wouldn't believe, it but that's an improvement from earlier." She shrugged. "At this point, I'll take what I can get."

"You go on a date with rules set in place?" Lucas wondered, bemused. "Who does that?"

"We do," the blonde replied defensively. She noticed with a sinking feeling how Riley's gaze flicked up to the Texan, her brown eyes taking on a longing expression. Maya sighed and turned her attention back to Lucas, trying to ignore the obvious tension in the air. "But, seriously, this whole dating thing? She paused, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "We're just figuring it out. . . and honestly, we could use some support from someone who's been in the middle of it all before."

Lucas raised an eyebrow, glancing at the other girl who was still too quiet for comfort. "Maya, I can't give you advice like that," he informed her, his tone firm but not unkind.

Maya, however, wasn't deterred. She leaned forward, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Sure you can. You're her brother, right?"

Lucas's face hardened. But then, without hesitation, he shook his head. "Nope. Not anymore."

"Why?"

"Auggie says we can't," he informed her smugly. "And you know what? I think he's right. You already have a great brother."

Riley's brows furrowed, a bit hurt by his refusal. "Then what will you be?"

Lucas looked over at her, his expression softening just slightly, but he was still resolute. "I guess. . . just someone who cares about you. That's enough, right? Anyway, Auggie loves you, Riley. So, I'm gonna step back from being your brother."

From their place off to the side, Zay turned to his remaining friends who weren't in a love triangle. "You see? Lucas does anything for anybody. I mean, he sacrifices being Riley's brother so he doesn't hurt Auggie's feelings."

Farkle got up from his chair and trailed after Zay as he paced around the café. "Well, same with Riley. She's stepping back from Lucas because she's doing exactly the same thing."

"Everyone's trying to do what's best for everyone else," Miya agreed as she followed the boys. "But sometimes trying to protect someone by stepping back can make things even more complicated. Sometimes, doing the hard thing is what's best for everyone else."

More than one person recognized the truth in her words. Realization began to dawn on Farkle as he processed Miya's words. He'd been sitting on the sidelines, watching, analyzing everything like he usually did. But now, hearing her speak, he felt like he was beginning to understand something about his own situation with her. He knew he cared about her. He knew he wanted something more, something beyond their current dynamic. He had all the facts; he had the complete experiment, he'd analyzed it, coming out with a positive result, and New Years was just days away— the deadline he'd made for himself to officially ask Miya out. And now, there was only one step left in the scientific process: the conclusion. (But, in this case, it would be the beginning.)

As for Riley, she thought about the fact that she had been stepping back from Lucas because she thought it was the right thing to do. She thought she was doing the best thing for her friendships by giving him space. But now. . . the cost was clearer. And what about Maya? Was the harder thing letting her go and telling her that they should only be friends? Or was it fully embracing their new dynamic, even though she wasn't fully over Lucas yet?

"Miya, stop," the brunette protested, overwhelmed by the countless potential decisions she could make, all of which had the possibility of ending up hurting one or more people she cared about.

"I thought she didn't like him like that anymore," Zay remarked, ignoring the girl's objection.

Farkle shook his head. "No, Riley's stepping back from Lucas because she doesn't—"

He was cut off as Riley wrapped her hand around his head and covered his mouth to keep him from finishing his sentence, manhandling him towards the door. Once they got outside, she released him and warned him sharply, "Farkle, you don't know what's going on. Stop thinking."

"I know Auggie's right," he declared. "He's your only brother. I've seen the way you look at Auggie, and I've seen the way you look at Lucas. It's not the same."

It wasn't his best comparison considering Auggie was both much younger than them and Riley's blood relation where Lucas wasn't, but the point he was trying to make took precedence over any other factors. Riley seemed to get what he was trying to say but didn't like how solid his reasoning was. "I. . . I think I know my own feelings."

"You're a liar," he insisted.

She flinched, hurt by the accusation. "Farkle—"

"You're lying to yourself."

"Well, so are you!" she retorted. "What about you and Miya, huh? We've been back from Texas for three days and she told us that you haven't talked to her at all! And you kissed while we were there! That's not fair to her, Farkle."

He was glad that Miya was getting more support on this than he was; out of the two of them, he'd rather that she be able to talk about it with their friends than him. She was the more emotional one between them, which required more talking, while he could rely on logic and analyzation to understand things, even if they were abstract, like feelings. And, speaking of facts, it was a fact that he didn't like that Riley was using his relationship with Miya as a deflection. He bristled at the brunette's attempt to make him feel guilty. "This isn't about ma and Miya, but if it was, I know my feelings for her. I just needed time to figure them out, and I have. I'm going to ask her to be my girlfriend."

Riley blinked at this, caught off guard by this announcement. "Oh. When?"

"Tonight," he decided. "I don't want to put it off anymore." He returned to their previous topic. "I just wish that you could be as certain about your feelings for Lucas."

"I am certain about them," she argued. "We don't make a good couple. Remember how stiff we were when we first went out? It's one of the reasons why I didn't want to hold hands with Maya— I didn't want things to fall apart."

The brunette sank onto the bench that sat under the front window of the bakery. Farkle gave her a sympathetic look. "You were both just nervous because that's not who you are. I mean, you guys talked for hours in the library during that assignment your dad gave us to get us off our phones."

She had to give him that, but she wasn't willing to accept his argument so easily. "Okay, okay. But what about Maya? We know she likes me, too."

"You guys have always been best friends," the genius reminded her, coming over to sit down next to her. "No matter what happens, I believe your friendship is strong enough to last through anything. What I really wanna talk about is how you feel. Think about what it was like coming home from your first real date with him."

Riley sprang to her feet and hurried to put space between them, not wanting to confront the feelings that memory stirred up. She wondered how he could possibly know how she felt after the train ride where she'd recreated her meeting with Lucas. "Farkle, how do you even know about that? You weren't even there."

"Doesn't matter," he dismissed her objection. "What you're thinking is how you really feel."

"I don't care," she retorted. "Farkle, Maya is my best friend. She cares about me and I care about her, too. She likes me romantically and I want to give her a chance. I want her to be happy."

"She does, but we know he also likes you," the genius pointed out. "You saw how he looked at you on that first real date. You were there when he said that there were some moments you know you remember forever and that was one of them. And when he promised that he was worth being the first boy you ever liked."

She met his gaze and he hated seeing the tears that glistened in her eyes. They were arguably closer than he and Maya were— a real brother-and-sister relationship— and, like what she wanted for Maya, he wanted the same for her: to be happy. But, she remained insistent. "You can't tell anybody."

He looked at her evenly. "I will, unless you do."

"Why?" she whispered, blinking furiously to keep her tears at bay.

"Because we are growing up," he explained. "And I don't know how to handle these feelings we're feeling. But I do know that we don't lie to each other. We don't lie to each other, Riley."

"You're right," she admitted shakily. "This is really hard and maybe I just need some time."

"I'm always here for you," he promised.

Riley sniffled, closing the space between them to give him a loose hug, mindful of his preference for space. "I love you, Farkle."

"And I love you," Farkle replied, lightly hugging her back. "Now, go on your date."

🌎🌎🌎

Even later that night, after the friends had gone back to their respective homes, Farkle retrieved a sweater that had been sitting, folded up, in his closet ever since he'd seen it and its pair in the retail store he'd bought it from. He'd come across it during his evaluation of his feelings for Miya and the sight of it had instantly made him think of her. He predicted that she was the kind of girl who liked to do normal if not stereotypical couple things, like taking cute photos, having nicknames for each other and, in this case, wearing matching outfits. Not wanting her to see it and spoil the surprise, he'd shoved it to the back of his wardrobe until the perfect opportunity came along for him to give it to her. And what more perfect opportunity was there than when he was asking her to be his girlfriend?"

So, he pulled it and tucked it under his arm, then went to her room. He knocked and waited for her to answer. When she opened the door, Miya was glad that she was still in her day clothes if Farkle's nervous expression was anything to go by. Who would want to say they got asked out by the boy they liked in their pajamas? But, his anxiousness was also making her worried and it took her a second to realize she hadn't even spoken to him yet. "Uh, what's up?"

He kept his gaze lowered, unable to meet her eyes as he fidgeted with the sweater's sleeve that had fallen out of its careful folding. "I, uh, wanted to talk about what happened between us in Texas. I know we haven't really addressed it and now that I've finished analyzing my feelings, I thought you'd like to know the conclusion that I've come to."

"O-oh," Miya mumbled faintly, then she stepped aside to let him in. "S-sure. Of course. No problem."

She pressed her lips together before any more platitudes could slip out, but the ones that had made Farkle relax, glad that he wasn't alone in his jitteriness. The brunette closed the door behind him but he didn't move to sit down, too filled with adrenaline to stay still. Miya didn't speak, giving him time to gather his thoughts.

He swallowed, bracing himself to share his findings, and then spoke: "so. . . we kissed. And. . ." The Asian girl tensed as she waited for him to finish: "I. . . liked it. I really liked it," he confessed, his face tinting a bit pink.

"I liked it, too," she shared, her own face feeling warm as she added, "a lot."

"Good," he said, reassured. "That's-that's good. I . . . know I haven't exactly been communicative these past few days, and I'm sorry about that," he apologized sincerely, his blue eyes flicking up to meet her gaze earnestly. "It was a lot for me to process, plus with the whole triangle thing going on. . ." He shook his head. "But I hope you know that I don't regret kissing you or think that it was a mistake. Actually, I think it was what I needed to. . . uh, realize there was something I wanted to ask you."

Miya's breath caught and she couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up with hope as she watched him carefully. She had been so afraid of making any assumptions about what he might say, but now she couldn't help the flutter in her chest as she waited for him to continue.

Farkle shifted on his feet. "Miya. . . I've been thinking about this for a while, and I know we're not exactly traditional, and I know I won't always be the easiest person to be in a relationship with, but. . . I really want you to be my girlfriend."

Miya's eyes widened, the words sinking in slowly as a grin spread across her face. "You. . . you do?" she asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement. It was as if her heart had caught up with her mind only a moment later, and suddenly the room felt lighter.

Farkle nodded quickly, his gaze shifting to the side as he fidgeted with the sweater again. "Yeah. I do. And I know we're kind of, well. . . unique," he pointed out with a small chuckle, "but I've never felt more sure of something in my life. And I want you to be the person who shares this with me. Everything. I-I want to do the couple things. The normal stuff, you know?" His voice softened as he stepped closer to her, lifting the sweater from under his arm.

He held it up in front of her, the words 'I'm with genius' clearly visible on the front, with an arrow pointing to the right. "So, I got this," he told her. "For you. And I got one for myself, too. I thought if you'd be my date for New Year's, we could wear them together and show everyone we're a couple. You know, in that goofy, cute way."

Miya stared at the sweater. When she didn't immediately respond, Farkle's anxiety spiked. He quickly tried to explain, "I know it's cheesy, and I totally get it if you don't want to do it, but I thought it'd be fun. You know? Like, one of those things couples do. And I really like you, Miya. More than I can say, really. So if you'll wear it with me, I'll be the happiest guy at that party."

The brunette hesitated, her fingers absently picking at the fabric of her sleeve. The sweater's words caught her attention again, and she chewed on her lip, unsure. "I don't. . . I don't know, Farkle. I don't think of myself as a genius. You know, with how I struggle with—" she trailed off, her voice tightening as she looked away.

Farkle's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly shook his head. "Hey, no," he countered firmly, taking a step closer to her. "You are a genius, Miya. And I'm not just saying that because we're standing here having this conversation, or because it's a word I think sounds nice. You get things that nobody else can like. . . the way people feel. You understand things in a way I can't even wrap my brain around sometimes. That's the real genius, right there." His voice softened, as though the sincerity of his words came from a place deep within him. "You are a genius. And I don't care what anyone else thinks. What matters is how I see you. And I see you as the most brilliant person I know."

Miya stared at him, her heart racing as she processed his words. Her eyes shimmered a bit, and for the first time, she felt a lightness she hadn't realized she'd been missing. The insecurity that had clung to her like a weight began to lift, just a little.

Farkle reached out slowly, his hand holding the sweater out to her, a small but hopeful smile on his face. "So. . . what do you say? Will you be my girlfriend? And wear the sweater with me on New Year's?"

She looked down at the sweater again, the words still daunting to her. She knew it was something she would struggle with her whole life, regardless of whether she was with Farkle or not. She slowly took the sweater from his hands, feeling the weight of it as she nodded. "Okay, Farkle. I'll be your girlfriend. And I'll wear the sweater."

Farkle's face broke into a grin, the gratitude and joy clear on his face. He pulled her into a tight hug and Miya wrapped her arms around him in return, holding him close. She could feel his heartbeat against her chest and it made her own heart race, her emotions a whirl of happiness and disbelief. Farkle's warmth surrounded her, and in that moment, she felt safe and cherished in a way she hadn't expected to feel.

The hug lingered for a few more seconds before he pulled back slightly, his face still alight with that wide grin. "Thank you, Miya," he whispered softly, his eyes soft but full of sincerity.

Miya smiled, her cheeks pink as she gazed at him, feeling like everything around them had melted away. As the silence settled between them, her nerves returned, but now they were softer, sweeter, almost fluttering in her stomach. With a shy smile, she took a deep breath, then leaned in and pressed a soft, tender kiss to his cheek. It was brief, but it held so much meaning in it— an acknowledgment of everything they had just said, of everything they were about to explore together.

Farkle's eyes widened in surprise, and then he smiled, his hand gently brushing through her hair. "Goodnight, Miya," he murmured, his voice low and warm.

Miya stepped back, feeling her heart beat faster, but also lighter than it had in a long time. "Goodnight, Farkle."

As she slowly closed the door behind him, she rested her back against it, her hand lightly touching her lips and a dreamy look in her eyes. 

A/n: this chapter was definitely one of the harder ones to write since I had to rework everyone's concern over Riley/Lucas/Maya to be Maya/Riley/Lucas, which was basically restructuring the whole plot. I'm admittedly still not entirely happy with how it turned out, but I wanted to make sure I got it done this weekend. I did, and that means next weekend (probably, since I have to work unexpectedly on a day that I would normally write) is the chapter I've been very excited about!!!! Since no one's guessed my hint I gave previously about what the next update entails, here's another clue: Juliet's 36 in this act 😉