beginning of ninth grade

She makes her way to her locker and pass the older boys whose eyes linger on her exposed legs a little too long. She's wearing a flimsy dress Topanga had bought her- but that's no invitation to her body. She holds her head up high and somehow, her legs find their way to her locker and she escapes unscathed.

She remembers her locker combination: 21, 16, 35. It's funny, really, because she remembers the small things. She doesn't remember Farkle's birthday (she tries reallyreally hard but the date april fourteenth never sticks) or how old Auggie is (wait, he's seven? when the hell did that happen?). But, she remembers Riley likes peanut butter and no jelly and how Lucas looked at her when she told him she broke up with her boyfriend,

That is one of the things she doesn't really want to remember.

So, she puts her stuff in her locker and makes her way to her first class. It's Honors Physics and science is the only thing Maya is good at besides art. Farkle is in it, obviously, as well as Lucas. She doesn't know exactly how the Friar boy got placed in her science class, but she doesn't question it. She wouldn't admit it aloud, but she likes having Lucas in her class. It gives her someone to pass notes to and complain how completely boring the class was.

(Lucas wouldn't admit it, but he likes having Maya pass notes to him. He also likes the way she whispers, slowly and her voice barely audible, leaning into him and their eyes locked together. He would never tell Maya though, because Maya Hart was the devil in sundresses and lipgloss. Not that he minded, anyway.)

It's five minutes before the bell rings and Maya was, for the first time ever, punctual. The class tries not to gawk at the sight of Maya— gasp— prepared.

Lucas comes in just as the bell rings, and Maya is kind of upset that he doesn't point out she's sitting in his seat. She acts like she doesn't care though, placing an elbow on the two-seater desk and her chin in the palm of her hands. She also held her heart in her palm, but that she clutched tightly.

II. summer before tenth grade

"Don't you think you're doing a bit much?" Lucas asked Maya as they filed out of the car. They were going to Coney Island for some reason, and Josh was in town so he decided to chaperone the trip. Lucas didn't know exactly why they needed a chaperone, because they had gone plenty of places without Riley's nineteen year old uncle and they were completely fine.

"Not really, no," Maya replied dismissively, her eyes locked on the tall brunette boy in front of them. Lucas clenched his jaw, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. The last thing he needed was for Maya to know that he was, dare he say it, jealous. He was jealous of the fact that Maya Hart, who didn't really put effort into anything, straightened her hair and put on makeup and wore the shortest shorts Lucas had ever seen to impress Josh Matthews.

"You're something else," He says. He tries not to be bitter, but he finds it hard not to. He was supposed to like Riley. She was predictable. She was safe. She was innocent and pure and she liked him. At least, she was supposed to. But he sees the way she looks at Charlie and she sees the way he looks at Maya, so maybe their relationship was doomed from the beginning.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asks, and her focus is no longer on Josh. His long legs carried him farther and farther away, and maybe that was a metaphor for that she could never have him no matter how hard she tried to keep up. (Or perhaps she was left in the dust because of how short her legs were.)

"Nothing." He shrugs. She raises an eyebrow and smirks, and that's when he knows she's a goner. She smirking at him and he hates and loves it at the same time. She's the devil in a tank top and converse, with wild hair and a wild heart to match. He doesn't know how she tames it though, and he doesn't really want to know anyway.

(What she won't tell him is that she dates so many boys so she could get him out of her mind. She remembers his home phone number and his mother's middle name. Sometimes, she doesn't remember her boyfriend's last. She doesn't want to stain him, because her hands are blood red but then she remembers that Lucas is a fallen angel and that meant he had some scars.)

Josh announces that he has a girlfriend, and Maya doesn't want to cry. He doesn't deserve her tears, but her heart can't help but clench. She puts a brave front though, smiling and laughing. She tries not to send daggers at the girl Josh has brought to the Matthews residence. She fails.

It's sometime past midnight when she crawls through Lucas' bay window.

He doesn't make an effort for her leave.

III. the end of tenth grade

He breaks up with Riley. She furrows her eyebrows, and tells him that she thought they were over six months ago. He tries not to blush in embarrassment, but it's hard not to when Maya is laughing her ass off behind him. Riley reprimands her, telling her to stop, but she doesn't comply.

He doesn't tell her to stop though, because he's grown fond of her laugh and her smile, and if it's at his expense he's okay with it.

"Ready to save the day, Ranger Rick?" Maya asks. He's grown a few inches and Maya has stayed relatively the same height, so she has to tippy toe in order to clap her hands on his shoulder.

"Always am," he replies without second thought. She does that smirk and Lucas has to look away because he's fallen way too hard for Maya Hart and he's still recovering from the bruises. He knows she won't like him the way he likes her, but he's come to terms with it. He's completely content with the way she grabs him by his collar during their little banters, throws her leg over his while they're cuddling, and grips him by the hand when she's dragging him somewhere because Maya Hart is always dragging him.

She's dragging him through the abyss of maybe's and almosts and he doesn't know which way is up or down.

(She won't admit that her hand feels strangely comfortable in the folds of his. Many hands haven't been kind to her, so soft hands are a foreign territory she's willing to step into.)

"Not even going to point out that I called you Ranger Roy?" She asks pointedly.

"You called me Ranger Rick," he points out. "And I think of it as a term of endearment now."

She doesn't correct him, because she'd be lying straight to her teeth. She does that a lot though, but somehow she feels guilty when she's doing it to him. She rolls her eyes because she doesn't trust anything that comes out of her mouth at the moment.

"That's cute," She deadpans, her face void of emotion. "Just don't fuck up today, okay?"

He nods solemnly and watches as she disappears through the navy doors and works her way to the stands. The devil isn't a tiny man with a red tail and horns; the devil is sly and cunning, and has blonde hair in pigtails.

The devil will eat you whole and spit you out, and whine about how bitter you taste.

He hits a homerun and his eyes immediately find the devil cheering for him.

IV. middle of eleventh grade

Riley forces Maya to attend a charity gala with her, and Maya squirms in her tight dress. She tries not to seem bored, but she was never really a good actress. She starts falling asleep as someone starts a speech on why they needed to save the polar bears, when she feels a sharp tug on her blonde hair. Her blue eyes immediately flash open, narrowing them at the culprit.

"I was just about to take a nice nap," She hisses, keeping her voice low. She doesn't want to draw attention to herself, because somehow she found herself the object of many old mens' attraction.

"You want to leave?" Lucas asks, his gaze flickering towards the door. Maya holds a breath and tries not to imagine how her lips would feel on his neck.

"Yeah," she mutters. Riley is too engrossed in the speech, and so is Farkle. They wait until he's setting up his powerpoint to leave.

They end up at a dingy diner two blocks away from the function. It's the diner's hundred year anniversary so they're handing out crowns to everyone that comes into the store. Maya can't help but groan when Lucas places one on her head.

(She won't admit it, but she liked being a princess for once. She was never really allowed to have fantasies like that, but with Lucas she felt like could slay a dragon.)

They sit in a booth in a corner. He sits on the right side, and he expects Maya to sit on the left, but she slides right next to her.

"Ever heard of personal space?" He asks, cocking his head to the side. She sends him a crinkle eyed smile; it was innocent, but he knew he should be wary. Nothing was ever safe with Maya Hart.

"My main goal in life is to make you uncomfortable," She tells him, adjusting the cheap paper crown on her head. She's wearing the crown like it's real and Lucas can't help but think that maybe she was a princess in her past life. She had the looks of one with her long blonde hair and stormy blue eyes— she also looked like maybe she could've been a warrior.

"Thanks," he drawls out sarcastically, and he tries not to notice how her body melted into his perfectly and how erratic her heartbeat is.

Maybe she was the devil in her past life, too.

They don't end up ordering anything from the diner but they spend over two hours there.

By the time he starts walking Maya home, it's almost midnight.

"Lucas, I'll be fine," she protests but they're already halfway there and he isn't budging. She rolls her eyes and tightens her arms around her chest. Winter in New York was brutal, and Maya was never really prepared for it. Riley had told her that she should bring a coat, but Maya argued that she would rather die of hypothermia than attend the gala.

"Do you need my coat or something?" He asked, quirking a single eyebrow. She scoffs, and shakes her head. Of course he would offer her his jacket, because Lucas Friar is a gentleman and Maya's never dated those.

"This isn't some fucking teen romance, Friar," She sneers. It's easier to insult him than feel what she feels. She juts her chin out and forces herself to stop shivering.

"I was just trying to be nice," He smiles at her all dopey and so in love. She wants to vomit at the thought. She's known of Lucas' feelings for a while now— subtle isn't exactly in his vocabulary.

"Don't be," She sighs exasperatedly and he doesn't respond.

They walk in silence until they reach her apartment. He tries not to watch her as she struggles to find her key in her clutch— but damn, did she look good. She was the devil in a tight black dress and sky high pumps, with a vault locking away her heart and knives for fingers.

She held his heart in her hands, and the devil was never known for being kind.

"I'll see you Monday." She finally opens the door and she steps into her apartment.

(She will never admit it, but she doesn't really want the night to end. She liked escaping with him and his hands around her's. She also liked how well they fit together— she was already whole without him, but their puzzle pieces fit together to make a greater, bigger picture that she was ready for.)

"Okay," He says, and stuffs his hands into his pockets.

(He wouldn't admit it, but he was sort of maybe kind of hoping that she would invite him in— in more ways than one.)

She turns and faces him, and she doesn't know what to do. She could:

Push him away like she has been for the past four years. That's what she knows best. She has too much experience with pushing and running away. She's a pro at that.

Ignore the beating in her heart around Lucas.

Kiss him.

She grabs him by the collar of his white dress shirt and brings him in close. He doesn't budge though- he stares down at her like she just fell from the sky. The devil was a fallen angel, after all.

Though she pulls him in, he's the one that closes the gap between them. He presses his lips to her's and it starts out slow and hesitant- neither of them ever expecting this to actually happen. His hands dig into her waists and maybe he is the one with knives for fingers because Maya is pretty sure she's bleeding. (She's also pretty sure she doesn't mind- because now she's not the only one with blood on her hands.)

The kiss gets deeper, more frantic, desperate, and she's leaning against a wall and he's hoisting her up and if she's ever to fall, he's there to catch her. She pulls away first— as she does with everything, and they lean their foreheads together, gasping for air.

She's the devil with intoxicatingly sweet smiles and taunting smirks.

And if she is the devil, he wouldn't mind spending a lifetime in hell.

fin.

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