Riley is her first choice. In the last year, the brunette proved to be much more than beauty, as Isadora originally thought; she had the fiercest army within. Between the triangle and homework and depression and the Hole, Riley continued to smile through it all and never gave up on a single one of them.
So when Isadora climbs into her window, late one Thursday night after studying with Farkle in their favorite spot, she knows she can trust Riley to answer kindly and honestly.
"How do you know when you're in love?" The question slips out quickly and it takes Riley more than a second to register what is said. So she carefully tacks on: "I know the physical manifestations of love: a rapid heartbeat, flushed skin, enlarged pupils."
"It's more than how your body responds, Smackle. There's a comfort in knowing that he's waiting for you at your locker at the end of the day, in trusting that he's there for you and wanting to listen. And there's a warmth that rushes through your veins when you listen to him talk passionately about what he wants…."
"And that's how you knew you were in love with Lucas?"
Riley's gaze falls down into her lap, and her skin reddens. "Yes."
She's thinking about Maya, because that's where Riley's thoughts always go to first, but Isadora can't find a comforting thought to vocalize. So instead, she gently places her hand on her friend's shoulder and smiles.
She isn't sure who to ask next, but one day she finds herself alone with Zay at Topanga's and she's suddenly lost in thought and wonder at how he'd respond. But when he quietly asks what's on her mind, no snark or sass, she isn't afraid of asking him.
"How do you know when you're in love?"
"Oh, Smackle," he teases, "is this how you tell me you're in love with me? What about Farkle?" She laughs along with him, her limbs loosening and her thoughts quieting down. "I think you know when you realize that you can live without them, but you choose not to. And you know it ain't gonna be easy, so every day, you make that choice to make it work."
"That was very poignant, Zay." She says softly, "I'm sorry about you and Vanessa."
"Love only works when you choose to let it. And that evil little genius loves you too."
Her hand is gripping the pencil as she finishes off the last question on her chemistry test, fully confident in all her responses. Isadora swiftly turns her paper in and her teacher lets her leave the classroom early. She mouths a good luck to Farkle before she walks out, knowing he knew all the answers just as well as she — just not as quickly.
She catches Maya, her hair messy and wild, on the stairs near the Hole. With a bright grin on her face, she says, "I just finished my math test and I think I got an B on this one too, Smack!"
"That's wonderful! I knew you could do it." Isadora clasps her hands together in excitement. "An extra few hours a week was all you needed to do better, Maya."
The blonde beauty suddenly takes her by the wrist, with a wildfire glowing in her eyes, and sits her down on the steps. "And in return, let me give you some advice on love."
"Riley told you?"
"She would never do that to you, Smack. I see the way you watch Farkle nowadays, that questioning look in your eyes." Maya pulls her sketchpad out of her backpack and flips through, landing on a pencil sketch she did of the genius. Pointing at it, she exclaims, "This look, right here! Every day at 5, the world turns gold: it's earth's way of covering everything with love. Whenever you look at my boy Farky, your eyes turn gold."
Lucas sits with her in Drama class when their teacher gives them an in-class assignment on expression. She gives him the textbook definition: "You make your thoughts and opinions known aloud."
He rolls his eyes. "You know Smackle, you're a genius."
"Your feelings aren't buried deep within. For people like you, you scream from rooftops and you kick or shove."
"I express passionately, yes. But there are quiet ways of expression." Lucas twiddles his pencil before writing down her thoughts. He adds, "Expressing angry doesn't have to be violence; you can be angry and curl your hand into a tight fist, digging your nails into your skin."
"Expressing sadness can be more than uncontrollably sobbing, correct?" He nods. "What would you say about love?"
His eyes squint and she purses her lips, refusing to break eye contact with him. "Love, Smackle? I would say that anyone can stand boldly and proclaim loudly their love for someone. But I think for a lot of people, it tends to leak. When your trust grows in them, you're more comfortable expressing how you feel. Maybe you pick up on how they're feeling and you say something affirming, or you're more willing to comfort them through touch, or you show them acts of kindness. You're willing to be sacrificial and they'll do the same."
She wants to thank him for his response, but he interrupts her as his pen scribbles across their shared paper. "Maybe you even call them dearest or beloved without thinking, because you don't see them any other way."
They're sitting outside, searching for the stars, and her beloved is telling her about the constellations in the sky that they would see if it weren't for the light pollution. His arm curls around her shoulders and she presses her head into the crook of his neck. It was a perfect fit, she thought for neither the first time or the last.
His voice interrupts her thoughts, as he often did, and she felt her heart warm at the sound. "What are you thinking of, my love?"
"Of you," she replied simply, "of us."
"What of us?"
"Of our love." She feels his arm stiffen and looks up at him in the dim light. "My dearest?"
His arms tighten around her. "I love you, Isadora Smackle."
"Of course you do, Farkle Minkus. And I love you."
She sits there in his arms, the cool New York air surrounding them, and rests her head once more into the crook of his neck. From enemies to acquaintances to now, she knows their love is forever.
