I'm going to try and get back into this story. Starting with updating all of the chapters.

In this story the characters are in high school.

I don't own Girl Meets World.

She doesn't want to go. Why does he make her go? There are a million other things that she would rather do then go. Hell, she'd rather do homework then go to the stupid party and get drunk around people she hates. The blond picks up the mascara bottle and applies another layer to her already long lashes, 'Why can't we just go get high as fuck by ourselves? Who said we had to do it with people?'

She tells herself that she's going because Lucas likes going to them, that his intoxicated state is the only time where he is truly happy. She knows that she shouldn't keep reinforcing this behavior; Maya is aware that one day his habits will kill him, and this does scare her. However, she knows what it's like to be lost, to have something which makes you feel like a functional human. He doesn't get in the way of her bad habits, nor does she with him. It's a silent agreement that they are both grateful for. So she tells her this is a kind-of sacrifice.

She had on a knit bralette paired with high-waist jeans and black shoes. Countless bracelets piled on her wrists finished her look. Her bright red lips faced down in a frown. She wrung her slender hands together as she stared at herself in the mirror, scrutinizing what she saw.

"Smile, beautiful. You're hot and you know it." A southern accent floats into her room, intruding her thoughts and causing her to jump. "Ready to go?"

Maya grabbed a hair elastic and put her curly blond locks into a messy bun. " I have a door for a reason, Friar! Knock." A few strands fell out but she didn't have enough energy to care.

"If you don't want guys checking you out then I suggest you close the door, Hart." He walks across the room to where she's standing in confident strides. "You ready to get your buzz on?" He whispers seductively in her ear before falling onto the single bed dramatically.

"You're an idiot. I don't even know why I go to these things with you." She hides a smile by reapplying the stunning red lipstick. Smiling is not something that people see Maya Hart do.

"No one's holding a gun to your head blondie. Now come on. I'm tired of being sober."

It's not really a kind-of sacrifice, it's more like a necessity that gives her a chance to feel. When the amber liquid burns down her throat and leads into her stomach, emotions blossom out from her chest and she can truly smile. The warmth that the drinks provide gives her something that she doesn't know how to find anywhere else. And sure, what the drinks provide is an artificial happiness. But when you're desperate you'll take any form of escape that you can find.

She was across the street from her school, leaning against the wall, staring at everyone who had a family. It was Christmas and the small blond was jealous of anyone who got to go home over the holidays with their families.

The girl didn't care that it was -10 outside and all she had on was T-shirt and jeans. She didn't care that she was shivering and was well on her way to getting sick, 'Maybe if I get sick, someone will care,' was what she was telling herself. Everybody had someone, except the girl.

The snow was falling faster now. The girls' hands were numb. She didn't care. She was jealous.

All the other kids were hugging their parents, they were getting into warm cars and driving to warm houses where they'll sleep in warm beds. Why can't she have that? Why can't she have something warm to?

"Cold?" A voice spoke up beside her. Lost in her thoughts, the girl hadn't heard anyone around her. She turned to look at the newcomer, bushy beard and eyebrows, hunched over in a blanket, old brown eyes, and a strong stench of body odour coming off him in waves.

"Go away." She struggled to keep her teeth from chattering, she had to sound strong. She reached into her pocket for a cigarette and her lighter, only to find her pockets empty. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath.

"You have no one either?"

"Leave me alone," Was all the girl muttered as her shaking hands checked all her pockets again.

"I get it. You're all alone and you want to stay that way. You don't want anyone." He raised his eyebrows at the girl waiting for nod of response. When she didn't do anything, he continued anyway, "I've been watching you for a while now and I see how you're looking at everyone. You may tell yourself that you want to be alone, but you and I both know that you want someone."

"It's not my fault that I'm alone." Was her response.

The man smiled a yellow toothed smile, "Kid, everyone has a choice in their life, and it's up to them to do something with it."

"Maybe this is me doing something."

"Except that you're doing nothing."

The man and the girl stayed silent for a few minutes. He reached into pocket and pulled out a pack and a lighter. Blue eyes stared longingly at the small white stick as she watched him light up and take a long drag. The man raised an eyebrow at her and sad, "Nasty habit this is. It'll kill you, you know." As he offered her a cigarette.

"That's what I'm hoping for."

The man laughed and blew out smoke. He nodded his head, causing his shaggy hair to flop in front of his eyes.

"Well aren't we just two lost souls looking to be found?"

anotherxwallflower