I do not own Girl Meets World, just these ideas.
"What's up, Cowboy?" I asked, eyebrows raised as I allowed the tall, tan country boy into my room. He looks so out of place here, in my little girl bedroom, that I couldn't help but smile to myself, even though this isn't his first time in her room, by any means. Since that first Halloween he'd stopped in at least once a week, but never unannounced, like he had tonight.
"I had to see you before you talked to her," he said by way of explanation.
"Well you did it," I answered, smirking again, "because I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I'm talking about Riley," he said, and she rolled her eyes.
"Duh," she answered, the only 'she' who'd be calling the blonde girl was her best friend, "But she hasn't called and told me anything tonight. "Why, what'd you do?"
"We were studying in the library," he started, "And I walked her home."
"Like always," I said, waving at him to hurry up, "Cut to the chase, Heehaw, am I kicking your ass over this or what?"
"She kissed me," he said, slumping onto her bed as the petite girl clapped happily, something she was not prone too. She rarely acted like the other girls in their grade- all sunshine and giggles, Riley especially- but sometimes she showed her age.
"That's great!" she gushed. She'd been trying to push the boy towards her best friend for the past year and a half. He totally cared for her, that was clear to anyone, but he keeps claiming he doesn't see her in a romantic way. Apparently Riley'd finally manned up and made the first move!
"No, it isn't," he said, sourly.
"Why not?" she asked.
"Because I don't feel that way about her, Maya, you know that," he said, and the blonde turned a bit green. She'd been so happy a moment ago and now just looked ill.
"Ranger Rick, if you're about to tell me you've been harboring a secret crush on Missy, I will kill you, you know that, right?"
"I don't like Missy. Maya, I like you." He said it so quickly, and so quietly that she could've pretended she hadn't heard him. That is, until he repeated himself, more loudly this time, "I like you."
"You can't." It was her turn to whisper now, she tried to fight it, but there was a hitch in her breath- an audible pause, before 'can't'- that broke both their hearts.
She sat down next him on her bed. For months she'd denied the feelings she had towards the boy- he wasn't really Mr. Perfect, as he'd once been named, but he was perfect for her. He put up with her shit, but didn't let her get away with anything. He knew when she needed to talk and when she needed to draw, and when she just wanted to take a swing at the world. She felt it fair since the world was always getting in punches on her.
Punches, she thought to herself, ruefully, like this one. How could the one boy she felt anything for, be the one guy she couldn't have?
"It's too late, I already do," he whispered, nudging her side, before throwing an arm over her shoulder and giving it a squeeze, "You're stuck with me. If you want me, you've got me. All you have to do is say it."
"I- I can't," she said, finally. They both sort of knew it, but she had to say it aloud.
"Yes you can," he answered, holding her chin and turning her to face him, "Just say it. Say that you want me."
"No, I can't," she repeated, her blue eyes welling up and a single year falling down her porcelain cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb, and, with all the delicacy he could manage, he was a teenage boy after all, country boy/gentleman or not, he kissed her.
She kissed back; there was no denying it, and there was no way either of them would try to. She kissed him back, and she kissed him hard, with urgency, and he got the feeling that maybe, just maybe, she wanted this as badly as he did. Their mouths opened and she explored his, while he, in turn, explored her body. Hands were everywhere; it was like neither of them could bear to let go, for fear that they'd lose the other forever. Laying down on the bed she pulled the boy onto her, and he stopped kissing her lips to travel down her body- her ears, her jaw, her neck. His hands skirted the bottom hem of her top, fingers brushing the cool skin in a way that made the girl beneath him shiver. He laid his palm flat on her taut belly and felt her chest rise and fall with every breath, every moan, as she writhed under him, his hands making their descent upward.
"Stop," she said, suddenly. The boy jumped off of her like she was on fire.
"I'm sorry," he started, "I shouldn't have, that was too much, too fast. You didn't even want me to, oh my God, I can't believe that just happened."
"Breathe, Cowboy," the girl said, sitting up and readjusting her hair, "I did want it. Your gentlemanly reputation can remain in tack, I pulled you onto me, didn't I?"
"Oh," he stuttered, "I guess so. Well, then what's wrong?"
"Lucas," she said, and he knew it was serious because she never used his real name, "Riley is my best friend. And while you might not be into her, she is into you. And I can't do that to her."
"If it weren't for Riley though?" he asked hopefully.
"There's no use thinking like that. Riley's the best thing to ever happen to me, and I'm not throwing our friendship away over a boy," she hesitated before adding, shyly, "no matter how great he might be."