It was something she'd gotten into the habit of doing when she was young. She just sort of said it when she felt like someone was getting too close. She didn't want anyone to care or worry she just wanted them to be there.
Well, that was a complete lie. She told herself over and over that she didn't need or want help, but deep down she knew she wanted someone to ask see through her, to be able to tell something was wrong. She hoped for it even. So when she said those two little words, she was just waiting for someone to see the turmoil behind her eyes and point it out.
I'm fine.
But no one did.
Riley would grin widely, naively believing she could trust Maya to tell her exactly what was going on in her life at all times. She wished Riley wouldn't trust her so much. Farkle would look at her strangely, but whether it was by obliviousness or respecting her privacy, he would never say anything about it. She wished he would stop respecting her privacy so much. And thats how it had been for as long as she could remember. Riley smiling and Farkle staring and Maya wishing that someone would finally see that she wasn't fine.
There were times when she wondered if she should go with her mother to her acting auditions because she was so good at acting like she was fine that she figured she could pretend to be anything she wanted.
I'm always okay.
And then he showed up.
Lucas Friar: tall, dark and handsome with bright eyes, an infuriating grin and a slight southern twang in his voice. And somehow he managed to beat her at her own game. And she knew she was just pretending to dislike him, that she just had to make sure he got the memo that she was tough as nails Maya Hart. But what set her on edge was that it seemed like he knew it too. But how could he know? How had this stranger managed to break through the first layer of her defenses in mere days?
But she remembered something her mother used to say.
"When you have strong emotions for someone, it's like you're too close to see straight," she would say. Perhaps Riley and Farkle were just too close. Perhaps it would take an outsider to see through her.
God, she hoped that was true.
I'm okay.
So she went through her life like she normally would. She would talk and laugh and smile. But she would keep looking at him, trying to see if he would notice anything strange. Sometimes, she thought he might. But he never said a word about it, he just observed. And maybe that was enough for then, knowing that someone could tell.
She should have seen it coming, her falling for him. She didn't love him, no, it was too soon for anything like that. But she really liked him. And even though he was Riley's, she wanted him to somehow figure out how she felt. Now more than ever, she wanted him to know. Why didn't he say anything?
She could tell that he had pieced some of it together. He was figuring her out more and more everyday. But why didn't he say anything? And then it happened.
"I'm okay, sir," he said. She shivered when she recognized those words. His eyes met hers for a split second. He was trying hard to be okay, but he might not be. He was trying to convince himself that he was. She recognized that look.
"Lucas!"
"I'm okay, sir." He meant it this time, he was okay. She could see the relief that realizing that brought him. He glanced at her. He knew, he understood.
And he did. She could tell by the way he stared at her when they heard the news that the arts programs were getting cut, by the way he let her make fun of him, the way he followed her into the dark depths of Mayaville. And she could tell that he was in the same boat as her when he got 'Most likely to be okay with anything that ever happens' in the yearbook and when he danced on the dangerous line between controlled anger and wild rage. He was named Mr. Perfect and no one else could see what lingered under the surface, itching for someone to understand.
It's fine.
Some days were harder than others. It was hard to hide. She needed to let it out to someone who understood. So she knocked on his window on an average Thursday afternoon and waited until he pushed it open and stared at her strangely.
"Can I come in, Huckleberry?" He stared at her for a moment more, before shaking himself out of it and letting a small smile appear on his face.
"Yeah, of course, my bad," he said quickly. He didn't have a bay window of his own, so he helped steady her with his hand as she crawled through his window and hopped onto the wooden floor. She looked around the white-walled room, noting the dark blue decor and the profuse amount of Captain America posters on the walls. He stood next to her, nervously following her gaze to wherever she looked, self-conscious to what her opinion on his room would be. He drummed his fingers on his legs awkwardly as he glanced at her, waiting until her face was tilted up toward him to speak.
"So… you're here…" he murmured half to himself. He didn't know why, but something about the way she carried herself in that moment unnerved him. But she said something unexpected and the pieces began to fall into place.
"Ask me how I am. Please," she said softly. He blinked at her, searching her eyes. He caught the waver of her lip and knew exactly why she made him so uncomfortable. It was because she never allowed herself to be vulnerable, not even to Riley. But here she stood, trying to tell him everything.
"Are you okay?" he asked slowly after a moment had passed. Her lip trembled and a tear dripped down her cheek. He brushed it away quickly, letting his hand linger.
"I'm okay. Do you understand?" Her tears were flowing faster now and she couldn't hold back the tremor in her voice. He nodded swiftly, his face a mixture of sympathy and pain. It was then that she broke down, but he was right there to catch her and hold onto her like the precious girl she was.
She told him everything that night, about how her father left and she hadn't forgiven him, about how her mother wasn't home but she didn't blame her, about how everyone believed her when she said she was okay but she wasn't. And he listened. He understood. He stroked the back of her head and murmured that it would be okay even if it wasn't now. She felt selfish unloading her problems on him, but he assured her that it was okay.
When she returned to her home hours later, he told her to come back if she ever needed him and the look in his eyes told her that he wanted her to need him. So she promised she would and told him to do the same if he needed her. She wanted him to need her. They said their goodbyes and the next day at school they acted as if nothing had happened, but when she caught his gaze lingering, they stared at each other for a brief charged moment and they simply understood each other.
When he pushed her to make an attempt to forgive her father, she didn't look back. She knew he was telling her that it would be okay.
When he put a hand on her shoulder after she read the letter to her father, she didn't look back. She knew that he was telling her it would be fine.
When her father had gone and she went through his window again, she didn't look back. She knew he would tell her that it was all okay.
Because perhaps for the first time in a while, it was.
