A/N: Okay guys, I haven't gone AWOL, I promise. I've just been doing NaNoWriMo this month and that had my focus. Since I reached my 50k (about four days early, I might add, which is a record for me), I can go back to splitting my time between my original stuff and my fanfiction. So, here we go. This was written right around the time of Girl Meets I Am Farkle, or Girl Meets Farkle, whatever that episode ended up being titled. So there's a reference to that in here. I kinda like Farkle/Smackle on the show, but we're gonna assume that ended at some point long before the time period of this future fic, so it is not referenced here. And again, this was written long before Girl Meets Texas, so it wasn't taken into consideration, but I don't think there's anything in here that particularly contradicts anything that happened in Texas, so I guess it technically could have happened, it's just not referenced. This came from a couple points of inspiration, 1) the song "Kids" by Emily Kinney (portions seen in italics below), parts of it at least, mostly the chorus, and 2) a conversation I had about the show, and Farkle in particular, in which I got to thinking how Farkle and Riley are the ones that have a more youthful quality to them (in contrast to Maya and Lucas who have some more matured rough edges to them). Anyway, it's rated for underage drinking and shenanigans. Let me know what you all think. Enjoy! R&R! Thanks! ~Mac
Disclaimer: I don't own GMW, or "Kids" by Emily Kinney.
And Let's Play Hide And Seek
"Forget the day you've had, forget the loves you've lived.
Oh, you and I are famous for pretending to be kids.
Wash off all your grass stains, I'll pull off my shoes.
Let's love like we're kids, all shiny and new."
.
.
.
"What a night," Farkle said.
Riley swung her head to look over at him so fast that a wave of her own hair smacked her in the face. She sputtered as strands got caught in her lip gloss. She pushed her hair out of her way so she could see her companion. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts as she looked out at the party going on around her that she had almost forgotten that she wasn't sitting alone. It wasn't the first or the last time she got lost in her own little world, but she smiled widely to try to hide the fact that she had been distracted anyway. At least, Farkle pretended not to notice her blunder with her hair.
"It's something, isn't it?" Riley said. "We're high school graduates."
"We're going to be college students," Farkle added. "We're adults."
"I don't know if I'm ready to be an adult," Riley said. She wrung her hands together and stared down at her lap. That was part of the reason why she was stuck in her head while all her classmates were celebrating right in front of her.
"Hey, you're not the only one that's nervous," Farkle said softly, laying a hand on Riley's shoulder to comfort her with a gentle squeeze of his fingertips. "Your Dad has been telling us for years that the world is ours, but now it truly is."
"Is it supposed to be this scary?" Riley asked.
"Some of the best things are," Farkle said. "If it's not daunting, it's not worth it. Don't you think?"
Riley shrugged. "I've never been entirely opposed to things that come easy."
Farkle raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, so that's not true," Riley sighed. "But I've never been through something quite so intimidating as this: our entire future."
"That's the beauty of it," Farkle replied.
While Farkle was one hundred percent correct, Riley couldn't help but still be plagued with debilitating anxiety. She was supposed to be celebrating the beginning of the next phase of her life, like everyone else was. If the rest of her classmates dancing and drinking and making merry before her were nervous like she was, they didn't show it. They all seemed happy to bridge that final gap between childhood and adulthood. They were ready to leave behind that awkward in between place of adolescence. And Riley wasn't. She was already longing for the days when she would walk into her father's classroom where he could spoon feed her all the important life lessons and she had only been free of high school for, less than, five hours. For all her preparation, she was completely unprepared. She had missed her class going through over a hundred goldfish, she almost had a meltdown when she found out that Pluto wasn't a planet anymore—whose idea was it to let her be an adult?
Everyone else was excited about what was in store for them, sure of where their paths were laid in front of them. Riley was still figuring things out; it was taking her a little longer than the rest of them. The future was unknown for everyone, but while everyone else was brave enough to push forward anyway, Riley wanted to escape back to childhood where there had been certainty.
Riley tried to come up with something to say that would prove to Farkle that she wasn't five minutes from cowering in a heap in the corner. She wanted to be her usual enthusiastic self. She wanted to be profound and intellectual. Instead, she was doing her best to keep from crying. Everything was changing and she wasn't ready to change with it.
The fact that she had lost her voice, somewhere in the middle of these distressing thoughts, was a moot point when Maya appeared in front of them, putting an end to the conversation.
"Honey bunch," Maya greeted as she picked up Riley's hands and swung them back and forth.
"Peaches," Riley grinned.
Maya glanced over at Farkle, "Farky!"
Farkle saluted her and she turned back to Riley.
"Why are the two of you sitting way over here being antisocial?" Maya asked, continuing to swing Riley's arms, as she swayed slightly on her feet.
"We're not being antisocial, Maya," Riley said. "We're just being social with only each other. We're being selectively social."
"I'm here because Riley is here," Farkle nodded. "I don't think she's in the mood for a party."
"Nonsense," Maya exclaimed. She used her hold on Riley's hands and the momentum of their swinging arms to tug her best friend to her feet. "We just graduated high school! We are at this mind blowing celebration with all of our friends! I am one well placed bribe away from getting the DJ to play some country music so I can tempt Lucas into do-si-do-ing with me! You are not allowed to be all frown-y faced. I won't stand for it."
Riley only just caught herself from stumbling straight into Maya as she found herself abruptly on her feet. She worked herself free of her best friend's grip and pointed to her face with both hands. "I'm not. Look, see, I'm smiling."
"You look like you're about to go in for a root canal," Maya said.
Farkle snorted a laugh.
Riley's forced smile dropped and she pinched her lips together. "I'm enjoying the atmosphere."
"That's not good enough," Maya shook her head. She looked over at Farkle. "I'm going to have to take her off your hands, because she needs to have some fun and I won't have any until she does. Hope you don't mind."
"Sure, that's alright. I'll just go find Lucas and Zay or something," Farkle said, standing up as well.
"Great. Catch ya later," Maya replied, already dragging her friend away, before Riley's whine of "I was having fun with Farkle" could be heard.
Riley took one last desperate look back at Farkle to see him wave as she departed. Maya didn't slow her pace until Farkle was no longer in sight. Riley stumbled to a stop beside Maya and looked down at the refreshments table she had been brought to with suspicious eyes. Without a word, Maya plucked two plastic cups off a stack and started to ladle into them from a bowl. When they had both been filled, she turned to Riley. She sipped off one cup as she held out the second to her friend.
"Here, drink this," Maya said.
"Is it punch?" Riley asked, sniffing at the fruity mystery concoction in her cup.
"Sure, jellybean," Maya said. "It's punch."
Riley took a cautious sip. It tasted just like fruit punch, if it wasn't for the slight burn at the back of her throat as she swallowed. Her eyes widened. "That's not punch!"
Maya smiled, shook her head, and took another gulp off her own cup. "Drink it anyway."
This wasn't the first time Riley had drank, but this was different than sneaking wine coolers during a sleepover at Maya's while Katy was out for the night, or cringing through a beer at a party because someone's older brother-sister-cousin was able to get a keg, or taking shots off a passed around bottle of sugary sweet flavored vodka during a silly game of truth or dare. This was her first drink as a soon-to-be college student. This was her first drink as an adult. Was this what her life was going to be line from now on: a reliving of a series of firsts, as if the first time around didn't count because of a number and her birth date? Did this actually mean more, was it more significant, because she could no longer blame her choices on being a kid, someone too young and too foolish to know better? Riley just wasn't sure that she now magically knew any better than she did before, simply because she was officially an adult. In fact, she felt even more foolish than before because she couldn't get these nagging little doubts and fears out of her head that she's going to do something wrong or, even worse, that she would miss the hints to do something right.
Riley sighed, a sign of defeat, and drank off her cup again. Maybe Maya had the right idea. She needed to get her mind off of things and let loose a little. Maybe a drink or two would help with that, and if it didn't, it couldn't do much harm. When she had mostly emptied her cup, she let Maya ladle another couple scoops into it. They shuffled away from the refreshments table after that, to make room for other people, and found an open expanse of wall to lean against where they could observe the main room of the party while they finished their drinks. Riley tipped back her fresh cup and took a hearty swallow, hoping the effects wouldn't take too long to kick in.
"That's my girl," Maya smiled when Riley came back up for air. "But savor the rest of that. We don't want it to go straight to your head too quickly."
"Hmm" Riley shrugged, but she slowed down as instructed. She would let her first drink settle in her stomach before she chugged down the second. "So, I saw you with Lucas earlier. Is that—is something happening there?"
That had been one of the things that had got her lost in thought before. Where she was sitting with Farkle had given her a good vantage point to watch Maya with Lucas. The two had been sort of dancing, if the swaying their bodies did while they talked qualified. Riley had seen the stupid silly grin on her best friend's face and the way Lucas leaned in to counter their height difference. It had struck Riley that this was a significant change. She had been watching them for a long time, far before their graduation or this party, and they had avoided coming to terms with whatever there was between them. Her head spun when she realized that, right then, they were laying it all out between them even if they didn't know it. And Riley was jealous, because Maya had no trouble spilling right out into the unknown. It was like Maya had stepped across that stage, received her diploma, and let all her inhibitions fall away. Maya had nothing holding her back anymore, while Riley's trepidation had only strengthened its vice grip on her. It was hardly fair.
Maya ducked her head, hiding a smile and the blush rising in her cheeks. "Yeah, I think, finally, there is."
"Why now?" Riley asked.
"When else?" Maya countered as an answer.
"You're fearless," Riley said. "This is quite possibly the scariest moment of our lives. We've got everything on the line, our futures are out there, looming and huge and uncertain, and you're—"
"I'm not fearless, jellybean. Far from it," Maya said. "I don't know what's going to happen in a month, or a year, or ten years from now. I don't know where we'll be in the morning. And that scares me to death. But Lucas is," Maya licked her lips and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly, "is something to depend on. He's the constant. The thing to ground me. To make everything that scares me inconsequential. I think that's all anyone can really ask for. No one has it all figured out, as much as they would have you believe."
Riley hummed in response and took a sip of her drink.
"Do you have that Riley?" Maya tilted her head to look her best friend right in the eyes. "Something to depend on?"
Riley stayed silent as her eyes searched the room in front of her. Her gaze landed on Farkle, where he was in the midst of an animated conversation with Lucas and Zay across the room. She tipped another sip into her mouth before she said, "I hope so."
"So serious," Maya fake pouted. She tapped her cup to Riley's. "Finish that. It's time to dance."
Both girls took the last sips of their drinks and set aside their empty cups. Then Maya took Riley's hand and spun her out onto the dance floor, or rather that space between furniture that everyone was dancing in. Maya kept a hold on Riley's hand, so that she could twirl her friend around like they were swing dancing to the upbeat pop song. The two girls had dissolved into giggles before the first song was over, but they kept going anyway. By the time three or four songs had played through, Riley was feeling the effects of her drinks. Her head was buzzing in a somewhat pleasant way, and she felt lighter, as if she was weightless on her feet. Maya was an accidental genius. The drinks had taken the edge off of everything and if Riley couldn't focus her thoughts she couldn't dwell on those unpleasant things that had plagued her earlier in the night. Now she could dance around, feeling lighter than air, without a care in the world. This was exactly what she had been looking for before: a ticket back to the carefree wonder of childhood. Granted, it had taken a very adult thing to get her there, but none of that mattered now. Riley's worries were floating away like little bubbles into the atmosphere as she swayed to the music, tossed her hair and spun in circles until her skirt lifted with the momentum.
Maya seemed to be in a similar state, her cheeks pink, her face open and expressive, unguarded in a way she rarely was, and her lips twisting around the words of the song playing as she sang along. A fact evidenced by how, when Lucas and Farkle turned up beside them a few minutes later, she let out a shout of joy and latched on to Lucas. She threw both arms around him and dragged him to her.
"Have you come to dance with me, Huckleberry?" Maya asked, moving her hands from his neck and up to card through his hair.
"However you want me, Short Stack," Lucas said. He used one arm around her to drag her closer.
Lucas looked at Maya with such intensity that even Riley could feel it in her chest. It hit her like a punch to the stomach and she let out a shaky breath. She wanted that. She wanted that so badly that it made her toes curl within her high heels. She wanted someone to look at her like that. Actually, there was a particular someone that she wanted to look at her like that. If she didn't have a couple cups of liquid courage running through her, she wouldn't have done what she did next.
Riley turned to Farkle and took both his hands in hers. "You'll dance with me, won't you, Farkle?"
Farkle's hands brushed against her sides as she moved her hands up his arms to his shoulders. He smiled at her and she liked the way it lit up his face. It made him look younger than he was and it reminded her of when she had first met him and the way he looked at her when they were in middle school. Riley bounced as well as she could in her heels and Farkle swayed with her for a moment, his hands finding her hips to rest upon.
"Actually, Riley, I was coming over here to tell you I was going to head home," Farkle said. He stopped his movements and his smiled turned a little sad. "I wanted to say goodbye before I left."
"No you can't go," Riley shook her head. "We've barely spent any time together tonight."
"You're busy with Maya," Farkle said.
"I think Maya is busy with Lucas," Riley countered. Without having to look over her shoulder, she knew it was true.
Farkle did fancy a look over her shoulder and his nose crinkled as he got an eyeful. "It seems you are correct."
"Think they'd notice if we both left?" Riley asked. Suddenly, that was the only thing she wanted, because she didn't want to be at this party if she couldn't at least glance across the room and see Farkle.
"Might take them awhile," Farkle said.
"Walk me home?" Riley tilted her head and offered another small smile.
"Of course," Farkle sand and backed out of her hold.
Riley had barely realized that they were still tangled up together until his hands were no longer on her and he had retreated out from under hers. She missed the feeling of warmth and weight from his hands on her through her dress instantly. It almost made her smile falter. Then he offered her his arm and waited for her to link hers through his. That was almost as nice for an alternative. They found their way out of the party and down to the street. Neither Maya, Lucas, nor any of their other friends chased after them, so it seemed their departure had gone unnoticed. Riley liked it better that way. For a short time, she would have Farkle all to herself, which was something that had grown so rare in the latter years of high school that she wasn't going to let the opportunity pass her by.
It had been warm out earlier in the day, when they had been layered in caps and gowns so they were stifling, but since the sun had gone down the night air had cooled enough that they yearned for the extra layers they had shed. Riley shivered as the cool air settled on her skin and she shuffled closer to Farkle as they started on their path down the sidewalk. If she was honest, she was a little tipsy and, as she leaned into him, she certainly felt the effects. She wanted to laugh at everything without knowing why. Everyone had always called her a ray of sunshine, but for first time she felt like she had a ball of sunlight encased in her chest. She was content to walk down the street arm in arm with Farkle, both of them in their fancy dress clothes from their graduation, and looking like they were a perfect pair, a couple. She liked the idea that people might see them that way—that people might pass by them on the street and muse about how cute they looked together, how right they looked for each other, and gush about what a lovely couple they must be. All of those people would only see who they were on the surface, but Riley knew that underneath all that they were even more compatible. It was something she had thought about a lot in the past few years, but she had been overwhelmed with uncertainty and she hesitated at every opportunity. She didn't want to do that again, not now when it might be her last chance to make something of this.
Now, Riley wanted to shed her nervousness with grace, leave all her fears behind, and emerge shiny and new and full of that childlike certainty she had been coveting earlier.
By chance, she found exactly the way to make that happen. They turned a corner and found themselves across the street from a small playground and miniature park like grass area. She may have still been fueled by the drinks she had, because as soon as she saw it, she knew she needed to be there. The playground was deserted, all the families and little kids already on their way home, but no one had locked it up for the night. The gate still stood open, and it called out to her, welcoming her in. She knew exactly what she needed to do.
"Come on," Riley said as she unwound her arm from Farkle's and took quick steps to cross the street to the playground.
"Wait, where are you going?" Farkle followed her, his fingers just brushing against hers as she pulled away just a step ahead of him the whole way.
Riley glanced back at him, smiling over her mischief, and repeated, "Come on."
Riley slipped through the open gate and beckoned Farkle after her. She was moving too fast for him and he had to quicken his strides to keep up. A giggle burst free of her lips at the sight of the exasperated look on Farkle's face as he chased after her. Her stomach danced with anticipation, that pleasant unease that accompanied a game of tag. It suddenly became very important to continue to elude Farkle. Riley dodged and twisted down the path into the playground, laughing lightly under her breath the whole way. At the last moment, she made to weave onto the patch of grass next to the path.
"What are you doing, Riley?" Farkle hissed a whispered shout as he lurched forward to catch her by the arm before she got any further away.
Riley's heels sunk too far into the damp earth beneath the grass, taking out her legs and sending her to the ground. Her wrist slipped out of Farkle's hold, causing him to lose his balance and tumble down beside her. Her laughter rang out clear as she took in what had happened. She pulled off her heels and left them in a pile there, letting herself feel the grass between her toes before she got up and darted away again. Farkle took a little longer to get to his feet, rolling onto his knees and slowly pushing himself back up. It gave Riley enough time to hide behind one of the trees. She dug her fingers into the bark and peeked around the trunk to watch as Farkle tried to dust off the grass stains on his pants legs.
"Where did you run off to this time, Riley?" Farkle called out as he wandered further into the park. "I didn't sign up for a game of hide and seek."
When he started to get close, Riley tried to tiptoe away in search of a new hiding space, but this time Farkle was faster than her. She squealed when he charged at her. She barely got a step away before he grabbed her around her middle, dragging her in against his chest. He wrapped both arms around her waist, forcing her close even as she squirmed. Her hands fell against his chest and she stilled and looked up at him. He had the same expression of exasperation on his features, only now he was smiling fondly at her too.
"I thought we were going home," Farkle said.
Riley shook her head. "Not yet."
"Why not?"
"I want to fly," Riley said. She stretched her arms out to their full wingspan and swayed in his embrace.
Farkle's gaze drifted over to the swing set at the playground that Riley seemed to be referring to. "Okay, fine, but only for five minutes, then I'm walking you home."
Riley grinned and broke free of his hold. She started for the swings and called over her shoulder at him. "Push me?"
Farkle sighed and followed. "Sure."
Riley plopped down on the first swing and waited for Farkle to line up behind her. She was far too tall for this set and she had to tuck her legs far in as he started to push her. For the first couple minutes she let herself take flight with the occasional push from Farkle. She enjoyed the rush she felt as she fought the air for momentum. It made her slightly heady. There were few simple pleasures that could lift her spirits quite that high. It was so peaceful that, for the last few minutes, she slowed herself down until Farkle's gentle pushes were the only thing rocking her back and forth.
Riley breathed in deeply, filling her chest close to bursting and released it. Then she broached a subject she had been avoiding for too long. "Do you remember when we got married?"
"And promptly divorced," Farkle said. His palms laid flat on her back, pushing her forward and away from him.
"You remember," Riley dropped her feet to the ground, stalling her movement.
"Longest relationship of your life," Farkle confirmed. It wasn't surprise. He remembered everything.
"Still true," Riley breathed out.
Farkle took a couple steps forward, coming up behind her, and his hands wrapped around the swing's chains. His pull tilted her back and she leaned her head to look at him. He was frowning with his forehead and smiling slightly with his mouth—his expression as confused as him, because he thought she might be joking. "No, it's not."
Riley searched his eyes and said with complete sincerity, "I wish it was."
Farkle blinked as his expression faltered, but he didn't respond fast enough, so Riley fled. She leaped away from the swing, leaving it rattling in Farkle's grasp, and ran for the jungle gym. She was up the ladder and scooting across the grated landing before she realized Farkle had recovered enough to follow her. He was almost up the ladder when he missed a rung and only barely caught himself on the railing. He let out a huff as he got the wind knocked out of him. Riley's eyes widened and she slid back across the landing on her bottom to the opening at the top of the ladder. She offered her hand to him and, when he took it, she helped to pull him up onto the landing with her. He grunted as he got all the way over the edge, lost his footing again, and fell right on top of her, knocking her flat onto her back and catching himself on his elbows with his arms on either side of her.
Even though he had accidentally pinned her down and only just saved himself from crushing her, Riley met his eyes and asked, "Are you okay?"
"No," Farkle said.
"Where are you hurt?" Riley tried to shift, intent on helping him.
Farkle shook his head and she went still again. "I'm physically fine."
"But—"
"I'm not okay," Farkle said, "because you can't say something like that and then run away."
"I was trying to be brave, but it turns out, I'm not so much," Riley said.
"Why would you need to be brave around me?" Farkle frowned.
"You scare me," Riley admitted.
"Why?"
It was just like Farkle to poke and prod a situation until he had answers to all of his questions. Since she was literally trapped in place, Riley had no choice but to tell him the truth. She couldn't run anymore, she couldn't hide, and she was a terrible liar.
"I'm afraid that you're always going to be there," Riley said, Farkle started to hook one eyebrow upward, incredulous over her response, but she cut him off as she finished her answer, "but never the way I want you to be. I'm afraid that you're going to turn into a reminder of an opportunity I missed because I was too afraid to take it. Lately, all I've been able to feel is fear."
"Riley—"
"I thought, for awhile here, if I could take us back to a time when I wasn't always afraid, to a time when I knew how to be confident in my steps forward," Riley continued, "To a time when we were younger in spirit and weren't draped in all our little failures that make us timid, to a time when we didn't cower in the face of remarkable emotion—I thought it would make this easier."
Farkle smiled down at her and whispered, "I told you Riley. If it isn't daunting, it's not worth it."
"So, maybe this..." Riley trailed off, distracted by how Farkle had started to play with her hair with one hand.
"Maybe this is worth it?" Farkle finished her question for her. His eyes stayed locked on hers as he twirled her hair around his fingers.
"When we were kids, you said you loved me," Riley said.
"I meant it," Farkle nodded.
"You don't say it anymore," Riley swallowed hard as she felt all those nagging doubts creeping back in now to claw at her stomach.
"I mean it more," Farkle said. "We were silly, naive kids back then. I've meant every word I've ever said to you, but things are easier to say when you don't understand the gravity of what you're saying. I know that now. I think, so do you. And honestly, Riley, I've been waiting on you to figure it out for yourself. I'm here, because you're here."
And just like that, all the doubts evaporated. Riley lifted her head and shoulders just enough to let her press her lips to his. She let one hand find his neck, her fingertips pressing into his jawline to hold him as he kissed her back. Her other hand fell flat on the landing beneath her, propping her up, and she curled her fingers to grip through the grating. Her whole body was buzzing as they crossed that final threshold between what they were and what they could be. It only took a second to change the way Farkle's hand in her hair felt, how it anchored there as their lips explored each others, or what it meant to have him hovering over her the way he was, pressed close but still balanced with appropriate distance. She was warm with happiness and she could feel the same joy radiating off of him, and that only multiples hers twofold until it was growing between them out of control and bursting out into the night around them. She was still nervous and tentative, everything light and testing—and it was something of an experiment for him too—because it was new and familiar at the same time. Things were changing—as they were always changing—and, perhaps, now she was ready to let those changes find her.
Riley realized that nothing was certain in childhood anymore than it was now. It was just that, before, she wasn't afraid to fall down, to bruise, to scar. As a child she ran with wild abandon, leaped greater distances, and let her curiosity guide her, full body committed into everything, because the feeling of the wind in her hair, the pleasure of achievement, and the wonder of discovery was greater than the risk. Time had taught her to slow down, to be cautious, to worry about the dangers that lurked in dark spaces—but that was no way to live. It could be scary, it could be intimidating, but the only way to avoid risks was to do nothing at all, and she was not a person of inaction. She didn't need to be a kid again, she just needed to accept that she was going to fall sometimes, she was going to get hurt, and she was going to have to wear those pains on her skin, on her mind, on her heart, and she could so long as they were earned in pursuit of something great, something amazing, something that would let her fly and catch her when she fell, something that was constant and true, something she could depend on to make all her fears inconsequential. And it seemed that, for now, she had found exactly that in Farkle.
Somewhere along the line, as Riley spun within her thoughts, she had drifted back to lay flat again and Farkle had come with her, pressing down into her until she could feel the texture of the landing through her clothes. It was a pleasant heaviness though, something that weighed her down as her body seemed to threaten to float away. His fingers massaged her scalp, as his lips and tongue worked against hers. She sighed into his mouth as she pushed one hand into his hair and the other wrapped around him to pull him closer. Her inhibitions were loosening again and she was close to getting carried away—until the gruff sound of a clearing throat broke through the fog that surrounded them.
"Hey, you two kids," a voice rang out to accompany the blinding beam of a flashlight falling on them. "You can't do that here."
Farkle scrambled off of her and Riley sat up. She shielded her eyes with one hand and took in the sight of the security guard standing at the edge of the playground. He was probably there to lock up the place. She flushed a bright red that, thankfully couldn't be seen once the flashlight was lowered. She shaved a look with Farkle, and couldn't help but smile knowing that it was her hands and arms and mouth that had made him look so disheveled and that she probably look the same at his doing. She was beyond embarrassed over being caught, but she was still happy, because this was something bigger than just this moment. She wasn't afraid to be happy, nothing could ruin it. They climbed down from the jungle gym, murmuring apologies to which the security guard only jerked his head toward the gate.
"Get out of here," the guard said, but there was a softness to his voice as if he recognized what he had really stumbled upon.
They did as they were told, heading straight for the exit, without looking back. Riley retrieved her heels from the grass on the way, slipping them back onto her feet. As she did, she seemed to release the disguise of childhood she had tried to put on when she led Farkle into the playground, and accepted her trappings of adulthood. Once they were through the gate and back on the sidewalk toward home, Farkle shifted close to her side and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. It was a simple gesture, something innocent enough that they could have done this a hundred times before—when they were little and meeting for the first time, when they were in middle school and she refused to see the way he looked at her like she was the sun, or anytime in the last few years when the distance between them was longing to be bridged—but somehow meant more since it was happening now as they tumbled into adulthood. Riley held onto his fingers and took her first confident step forward. She held onto his hand the way she held onto the one thing that she had always known was certain about her future: that Farkle would be in it. Now, she was sure it would be exactly the way she wanted it to be, even if she was still figuring out what that meant.
.
.
.
"Babies have wrinkles and scars and tear stains.
They're not afraid to cry when they're in pain.
Babies and us could be the same."