"Where's Ranger Rick?" Maya asked, arm draped over the edge of Lucas' empty desk. At the sound of Lucas' name, Riley perked up, just then noticing his absence.

"Yeah, Dad, where is he?" Riley asked, expectantly. Mr. Matthews was shuffling his notes - he actually prepared for these little life lessons? - and without looking up, he answered the girls.

"He went home sick. Didn't look too good either." Maya sat up straighter, sliding her arm off his desk and back onto her own, her eyebrows furrowed.

"But he was fine at lunch."

"Guess not." Maya glanced at Riley, but she was scribbling something in her notebook, a frown playing at her lips. Maya leaned over.

"His parents are out of town, though, right?" She whispered. Riley pursed her lips and nodded, an idea flickering and dying in her eyes.

"I can't get sick. We're going to Uncle Shawn's this weekend." But then, who would take care of Lucas? Knowing him, he probably could barely function on his own when he was healthy, let alone sick. Mr. Matthews started to ramble on about the Black Plague and while he usually was the only teacher who was able to capture her attention, today she couldn't focus. She just kept thinking about Lucas. How sick was her? Did he have a fever or the flu or both?

As the day dragged on, Maya couldn't keep Lucas off the brain, which made her shoot Riley a few guilty glances, because she knew - she knew - she wasn't supposed to like him.

But Riley couldn't get sick, and Farkle wouldn't even think to go and Zay has dance class every Wednesday and he's sooner die than miss a lesson. So, when Maya took the subway home with Riley that day, she went a couple stops further after grabbing stuff from her apartment.

She finally made her way to the doorstep of Lucas' house after walking three blocks - it was in a seriously inconvenient place - and she just managed to ring the doorbell without the pot and the box she brought toppling it over.

After almost a minute, the door swung open. Lucas stood there a minute, cocooned in a plush, grey blanket, looking like death itself.

After it was clear he wasn't going to say anything, Maya tried to break the silence. "I brought soup," she offered. Lucas furrowed his eyebrows like he was trying to concentrate on something.

"You'll get sick," he managed, finally.

"Nah," she grinned. "I've got an immune system of steel." He drew in a hesitant breath, like he wanted to argue but he seemed to exhausted to put up much of a struggle, so he let her come in, collapsing onto his couch as soon as she set the things she'd brought down. Maya had only been to his house once before, when they had their muffin project the year before. It still felt sorta familiar. It had that same oaky smell that she was so taken by the first time around.

She stepped into his kitchen and called out, "Can I use a bowl?" He grunted, and Maya assumed that meant yes. She poured some soup out for him, careful not to spill and steadily carried the dish, brimming to the top with broth, out to him.

"I trust I don't have to feed it to you?" He laughed at that, as he reluctantly pulled himself into a sitting position. He took a sip as Maya slid into the armchair a couple feet away from the sofa Lucas laid upon.

"You made this?" He asked, notes of impression in his voice.

"Actually, I ran to Topanga's. I can't cook anything besides Kraft mac and cheese," and after a beat, " So what's wrong with ya, Huckleberry? You dying or what?"

"You know when you sleep wrong and your neck is all sore the next day?" Maya pursed her lips and nodded. "Well, my entire body feels like that."

"You got a fever?"

"99.5" Maya frowned.

"Well, that's not too bad. I brought some ibuprofen in case you didn't have any."

"Thanks," he said, grabbing the bottle and downing two pills. There was a beat of silence as Lucas looked at her. He opened his mouth but no sound came out, and he just barely shook his head, like he was deciding against something. But Maya was paying attention and - though she hated to admit it - she could read him pretty well.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just - um - why isn't Riley here?" Maya's face didn't so much as twitch, but her heart clambered up into her throat, and she made sure to swallow it back down before she spoke again.

"Sorry, Ranger Rick. I guess you're stuck with me, instead," she said, forcing her voice to sound casual.

"No!" Lucas said, frantically backpedaling. "It's not that. I just didn't think you'd want to come on your own."

"Oh," Maya said, a bit puzzled. "Well, I know what it's like when you're really sick and there's no one there to take care of you."

Lucas looked down at his hands and Maya, uncomfortable at his sudden silence, tried to change the topic.

"So, wanna watch a movie?" She asked, grabbing the three DVD's she had brought. Lucas reached inside the box, too, grabbing a thick book and studying the cover.

"I didn't know you were into poetry, Maya." She blushed a little at that, unsure whether it was a compliment.

"I'm not, really," she said, taking the book in her hands and running her finger down the worn spine. "This is my Billy Collins collection. I don't know, a lot of the other poems I read sort of, um, went over my head. But Riley showed me this poet and I can understand it, and it's still meaningful." She paused. "I just brought it in case you had a headache and you wanted to read instead."

Maya dismissed the odd gleam in his eyes as she spoke, because it was Riley he liked and not her. If there was anything different about the way he was looking at her, then it was just her imagination.

"Um, what movies did you bring?" He asked, after a long silence.

"Right, uh, I brought 'Hercules,' 'Rent,' and 'An Affair to Remember.' We don't really have the largest collection, so I brought what I thought would work." Lucas smiled, warmly.

"'Hercules' is my favorite Disney movie, but I've seen it about ten times, so what about that last one?" He said, grabbing 'An Affair to Remember.'

"It's a romance," Maya warned.

"So?" Lucas said, raising his eyebrows. Maya popped the movie in, and she soon found herself caught up in the story, and though she'd already seen it, the climax tore at her.

The saddest love stories have to be the ones of bad timing, she thought, grimly.

When the movie finished, Maya clicked off the TV and turned to Lucas, eager to see his reaction, only to find him lightly snoring. Maya chuckled as she cleared away the mess she made. She grabbed a pen, so she could leave him a note, but she didn't have anything to write on. So, Maya flipped to a random page in her Billy Collins collection and pulled out a random poem. She scrawled out a note at the bottom.

Soup's in the fridge. Feel better, huckleberry.

-Maya

Had she known the poem was titled, "Love," she would have given her left arm to pick any other. But had also known the look on Lucas' face as he read it, she wouldn't have changed it for the world.