Maya's sitting at the IMAGINE circle in Central Park. The summer heat feels excellent on her shoulders and back. She's doing a self-portrait, though not a usual one. She's sketching her shadow across the word IMAGINE, planning to fill it in later with wings or something. Or maybe not. It looks great already. She's finally learning how to draw shadows.
I love this, she thinks. I want to stay here forever.
Someone walks behind her, obscuring her light. She turns around angrily, trying not to break her neck, to see who it is. "Hey punk-." The punk smirks down at her, and it irritates her how she can't really see his face. It vaguely occurs to her that she'd like to do a new picture, of his shadow against the sun. She isn't going to ask him to pose though.
"Punk? Is that any way you greet one of your dearest friends?" the punk asks.
"Hi Lucas," she grudges. She's seen a lot of him this summer. Riley and Farkle have been at camp for the past month, due to return right before school starts, so they haven't had anyone else. When summer began, they could barely get through a conversation, if they were able to hold a conversation at all, without biting each other's' heads off. Nevertheless, they had managed to form a strange bond, less because they had not choice, and more because they wanted to spend time with each other. The nicknames were less frequent, but the witty toss-offs were still as strong. Lucas still tipped his stupid imaginary hat, but less often. They were on the road to becoming real friends instead of just tag-alongs to their other best friends.
Maya likes it. She also fears it. It's hard to be close to another person. Riley, the Matthews, sometimes it felt that all the love she received served more to remind her that someone else didn't. It didn't always feel that way, of course. She knew that it was an unappreciative way to feel. It still came up sometimes.
Lucas sits down next to her, wincing when he feels the hot concrete. "How can you stand it out here?," he asks.
"I'm not standing," Maya jokes. "I'm sitting."
"Funny," Lucas says. "You should've at least bought a blanket to sit on, and something for your head."
"I'm fine. And you're interrupting my drawing," she complains.
"I'm sorry," he says. In the time they've spent together, he's come to respect her art a lot more. He tries not to bother her when she's in the middle of a piece. He'll sit a few feet away, reading maybe, or writing to Riley or Farkle. It's the quiet moments they spent like that that truly cemented their friendship. They had learned, and were still in the process of learning, how to trust one another. It was surprising to the both of them how they enjoyed the quiet. He starts to get up.
"No, never mind," Maya says. "I already got the IMAGINE part, and even with you here, I can do the shadow." Lucas sits back down, the ground not so hot this time. They sit quietly for a few minutes.
"I should've brought my hat," he finally says. Texas, now that was heat. But he'd always had his hat, and he and Maya usually sat in the shade if they were outside.
Maya smiles, still drawing. "Can't handle the New York sun can yah Tex?"
Lucas smiles back at her. "Please. I can take it." After another few quiet minutes though, he really can't. "I'm going to move to the bench under the tree," he tells Maya. He gets up. So does she. She doesn't say anything, so he doesn't either. He's happy to have someone to sit with anyway.
They sit on the bench. They're out of the direct sunshine, but the light still breaks through the branches of the trees making a twinkling effect. Lucas breathes a sigh of relief and smiles a little goofily. He loves the feeling of the sweat as it cools his face down. Maya notices. "Don't you want a napkin for your face?," she asks. "You look awful." He looks at her. She looks worse than he probably does, her blonde hair frizzing out in her ponytail, her t-shirt sleeves dirty with sweat.
"So do you," he comments. She sticks her tongue out at him and flips open a new page in her sketchbook. She starts sketching. When Lucas looks at the page, she's doing more shadows. He decides to interrupt. Something about the heat and the sweaty looks they both sport puts him a talkative mood. And those shadows. "Why the shadows?" he asks. She pauses.
"I like shadows," she says. She resumes sketching.
"That's it?" he asks. She hasn't given such a vague answer in a while. He respects it, but he doesn't really like it. She shrugs. Do I really want to tell him? she thinks. She realizes that she wants to, she wants to be able to trust Lucas, to really trust him. I deserve to be able to trust other people.
"I like shadows," she explains. I hope he doesn't freak out. Thank goodness he hasn't before. "They're another part of who we are. Our shadows follow us in the sunshine, so there's always just a little bit of dark. Our dark comes out in the light. I guess that's it." She doesn't continue sketching. Lucas waits for her to finish. "Don't you think, that even in our happiest, brightest times, there's always still this dark part, some part that the light doesn't touch?"
He's a little surprised. He never thought that anyone else would be able to put into words what he himself felt. "Your father?" he gently asks. They talk about this too, about what they'd rather not talk about. It was another way they were building their friendship, but one acknowledged silently, like the silence of the times when Maya was working. She's trying to look at him, but her eyes are shifting up to the trees, the other benches, passersby. "Even in the happiest of my moments," she says, "filled with joy, surrounded by the people, the Matthews, Farkle, and you, who love me best… it can still feel kind of dark." She stares at the ground. "All of these other people love me," she says. "But he didn't. And it keeps me asking why he didn't, even when I shouldn't."
Lucas puts a hand on her shoulder. It's a comforting hand, and she pauses before she puts her own hand on it for a moment. He's surprised at her willingness to be so open. He liked her hand on his own. No, there's no electric spark, no wondering if they had feelings for each other. They did. He likes how she included him amongst the people who love her best. It was a big step, one he appreciated a lot. But romantic feelings? No. He moves his hand. She's still having trouble looking at him. He knew what a big thing it was for her to open like that, even now. He wants to continue to build her trust in him, so he opens up too. It's gotten easier, but it wasn't easy. "You know my dad's still in Texas," Lucas says.
"I know."
"And you know that he was diagnosed with depression," he continues.
Maya looks at him, a little worried. She knew about his father's battle with emotions he couldn't control. She knew how it hurt Lucas. She nods, slowly.
"I wasn't so sure if he loved me. How could he love me, when he couldn't even love himself? When he didn't love my mom?" He stares at the sky a little bit. "But he did. He does. I know that. I never forgot that though, and it hangs over me from time to time.
"The fact that I could inherit his disease hangs over me too. It's my shadow." Is this okay?, he wonders. They haven't been this personal before, even when they did talk about their parents. He's a little scared to look at her. "I guess it's a good thing you try to capture shadows," he comments. He looks at her, trying not to be nervous. "Maybe when you do, you won't be so afraid of them anymore." She looks away. He feels stupid, thinking he's gone too far. She resumes sketching, not saying anything in response to what he said. He sits for another moment, feeling really, really stupid, regretting messing up their budding friendship. He's about to leave, but her hand holding his wrist stops him.
"Stay a moment," she says. She's not looking at him; she's still staring at her page. He sits back down, waiting while she sketches. He tries to relax back into the quiet.
I hope he likes it, Maya thinks. She tears the page out of her book and hands it to Lucas, not looking directly at him. He takes it. It's not terrific, not a near expert drawing like her others have been. But it makes him feel happy. It's a rough sketch of their shadows mixed in with the shadows of the trees. He can make out the rays of the sunshine too. "It's us," Lucas says.
Maya hesitates, slightly. "Yah, it is." She looks in his eyes. "But these shadows can remind you more of the light, and less of the darkness. At least I hope they will." Dang, she thinks, looking away. She's not used to being very open with anyone besides Riley. Why would she be? That's so corny. She looks at Lucas, sees him smile.
"Thank you Maya," he tells her. He doesn't say anything else, knowing that he's at the limits of her spectrum of emotional display. But he says it with genuine sincerity and appreciation. She's relieved. She takes off her hair tie and shakes her hair, letting drops of sweat hit Lucas. "Hey! Watch the drawing," he says. He laughs a little.
You are getting too close to him, she suddenly thinks. It causes her to tense up for a moment. She remembers the drawing she just made; however, and she tries not to let herself be frightened away. Shadows can be a good thing. They continue sitting, watching the light twinkle, and their shadows dance.
AN:Part on of a possible series in which Lucas and Maya conquer the world, another dimension to the "Girl Meets World" theme. All one-shots, taking place in different periods of their lives. Romantic or friendship. Mentions of Farkle and Riley, romantic.
