"Huckleberry. Stop." Maya mumbles into the pages of her textbook. Her eyes are closed, and she's trying, trying to sleep. But Lucas pokes her again, hard enough that she shoots upright in her seat, rubbing her arm and glaring at him.
"Do you want to die?" She wonders, narrowing her eyes. He smiles widely, only faltering a little when she lets out an audible growl.
"Um, no. But we're really close to finishing this, and then we can just go home." He gestures at their project, papers and books strewn across the library table. They'd been partnered up for a History assignment when Riley got the flu, and Cory knew there was no way she would be back in time for the presentation on Monday. So he partnered Lucas with Maya and told Farkle to work with Zay. So far neither duo have managed to kill each other, although both have had a few close calls. In the years that they've all been friends, Farkle and Zay continued to vie for the official title of Lucas' best friend.
Once, when Lucas was drunk and Maya was sitting on a beer stained couch at some party they couldn't remember who'd hosted, he had admitted that it was her.
"This is fun."
He's slurring and she laughs, because Lucas when he's drunk is like a golden retriever. He smiles a lot more, and sometimes he slobbers.
"Sure, Fido."
He's never understood that nickname. But then he'd stopped trying to keep track of them all a long time ago. Riley doesn't party much, and she isn't here tonight. Lucas and her broke up again, a week ago. Maya was supposed to come to this party with Farkle and Smackle, and Lucas just showed up. Not that she minds. He's right, this is fun.
"You're my best friend." He mumbles, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. He's staring at her, serious, but he's drunk and she can't help a snort.
"What? We don't even like each other that much." She rolls her eyes. She doesn't move his hand though. She never does.
"It's not Farkle, and it's not Zay. You're my best friend Maya." His blue eyes are a little unfocused, but it suddenly isn't funny anymore. He means it, she knows he does. And not in a wide group of best friends way, the very important, one on one, I need you in my life kind of way.
"Riley is my best friend." She reminds him. He looks so sad that she can almost swear she hears her stupid, soft heart break. She shouldn't care. "But you can be second, if you don't tell anyone." He won't even remember this in the morning.
He considers that for a moment.
"Okay." He moves his hand from his shoulder, holding it out to her. She takes it, chuckling when he shakes her hand, firmly. "Deal."
They're in senior year now, and not much has changed since middle school. Lucas and Riley continue to date off and on, although that now consists of actual dating and not just hand holding and doodles on notebooks. But recently, they've been off a lot more than they've been on. Now that Maya thinks about it, it's been months since they've actually been a couple. Surprisingly, it doesn't affect their group much. Then again, those two have had years figure out how to manage their complicated relationship.
"Ugh." Maya turns back to the book in front of her, tapping her pen rhythmically against the page as she reads. After about thirty seconds, Lucas reaches out, closing his hand around hers.
"That's not helping." He mutters, not even looking up from the article in front of him. Maya stiffens, trying to ignore the strange zinging she feels whenever he touches her. Which has been happening more and more lately. She shakes off his hand, and throws the pen down on the table.
"What are we even looking for, Lucas? There's no record of this clash between the colonies. That's the whole point. We're never going to find it." She crosses her arms irritably over her chest. He looks up at her with a tired sigh. They've been here for hours, the library was supposed to close at ten, but because of their connection to Cory, the librarian had just asked them to turn out the lights and lock the door when they leave. She'd given Maya what could only be described as the evil eye, then pinched Lucas' cheek. Maya decided she'd gotten the better of that exchange.
"We just need a short paragraph on that one, all we have to do is find one primary source for it. Mr. Matthews wouldn't have assigned it if it were impossible." Lucas counters, eyeing her warily. They're both exhausted, they've spent more time alone together in the past two days than in the rest of the time they've known each other.
"Can't we just not do it? The rest of our project is good, great actually. This is probably going to be the best thing I've ever handed in." She muses, looking it over. There's a poster board off to the side, covered in writing and illustrations. After they both did their share of taking notes, Lucas had done most of the actual writing. Maya added the drawings, and the whole thing looks great, except for the small blank space in the corner where their last entry is supposed to go.
"Is that a compliment? From Maya Hart?" Lucas asks, perking up. She rolls her eyes.
"A compliment for myself. It's the drawings that make it look good."
He follows her gaze, eyes sweeping over her art.
"Yeah." He agrees, nodding his head. "They look amazing."
Maya stares at him. This is another thing that's been happening more lately. He'll end their banter by giving her a genuine compliment. It's different than before, when he would just be agreeable to annoy her. These days he really seems to mean it, and he knows it throws her off balance. She glances back at her book, then jumps to her feet.
"HA!" She points to the page, doing a wiggly kind of dance. It's Lucas' turn to stare.
"Are you okay?" He asks, real concern in his eyes. He thinks she's cracked. She doesn't blame him.
"I found something!" She turns the book and pushes it toward him. He reads aloud.
"In 1763 there was another battle, one of little historical significance. It consisted of only twenty men, most on foot. It is rumoured that a skirmish broke out over a small fishing pond, one that lay on the border of two properties. The outcome is unknown, as both families were later killed and the land was seized by the government." He looks up. "That's horrible."
"I know. Who goes to battle over a fishing pond?"
He rolls his eyes.
"Okay, pass me a blank sheet of paper, I'll write it out."
She complies, and as he starts scribbling, Maya begins to gather up their books. She drops them on the cart by the front desk, then comes back to see Lucas cutting out his last paragraph and gluing it to the board.
"Do you think we need a drawing for that?" He asks, stepping back to look at it. She frowns, there really isn't space.
"No. I think it's okay. Let's just go home." She's never been this tired. A quick glance at her phone reveals that it's almost two am. She groans.
He carefully rolls the poster, and throws the rest of the supplies into his book bag.
"I'll see you Monday." Maya yawns, heading for the door. She's stopped when a strong hand closes around her arm.
"Where do you think you're going?" Lucas asks, raising an eyebrow. She blinks.
"Um, home?" She offers, confused.
"And how are you going to get home?" He wonders.
"The subway?" She's not sure why she's answering all of his questions with more questions but she also doesn't know what he's getting at. And then he shakes his head, and she does know, and she sighs so heavily that her hair flutters around her shoulders.
"Yeah, I don't think so." He pats her on the head. "Come on, I'll drive you."
"Lucas-"
"It's two in the morning. Just once, can you not fight me on this?" He asks, staring down at her. If there was a height difference between the two of them in middle school, it's almost comical now. She's barely grown at all, seeming to have capped off at 5 feet, while Lucas is hovering somewhere around 6'1. He's a monster, or that's what she tells him. It's actually kind of handy having a giant around.
"You're such a Huckleberry." She grumbles, following him as he shuts off the lights behind them. He just chuckles, knowing that's a concession.
"And you're a trouble magnet. So taking the subway to your, no offense, sketchy neighbourhood at two in the morning is not a good idea."
She feigns offense.
"Are you saying I live in a dump?" Her face is serious, but she's amused as she watches his smile turn to discomfort.
"What? No, that's not-"
"Why don't you just call me white trash?" She jokes. She's gotten better about not letting it bother her when people talk about her upbringing. Her mother and her are on good terms, things with Shawn are good. So she's learned to let things roll of her shoulders. Besides, she knows Lucas doesn't mean it. That doesn't stop her from watching him squirm, though. He squints at her in the darkness as they walk to the parking lot.
"Are you screwing with me?" He asks, suspicious.
She gives him her best Cheshire cat grin. He sighs.
They come up on his truck, a beat up old Ford Ranger that Maya mocks but secretly loves. It's small, and rough, and it reminds her a little of herself. Lucas pretends to hate it too, jokes about it being the runt of the litter, how he would be laughed out of Texas if he ever tried to drive it back. But she knows he likes it too. It's rough to start, the clutch always sticks, and you practically have to use a mallet to get it into reverse, but he talks sweet when it acts up, and Maya knows he's named it Blue, even if he denies it.
"Hey, Blue." She pats the hood before hopping up into the seat. Lucas groans.
"Would you stop? I did not name my truck." He mutters, fiddling with the ignition. The engine turns over once, then sputters to life.
"Yes you did." Maya props her feet up on the dashboard. "She's called Blue."
They pull out of the parking lot, and he turns onto the street. They live fairly close together, despite his dig about her "sketchy neighborhood", and he's driven her home enough that he knows all the shortcuts. Usually Riley's with them too. Spending time alone has always seemed like a taboo. It started because Maya and Lucas weren't friends, not really. And then they were friends, but his situation with Riley was so complicated that it made Maya's head hurt, so it just felt wrong. And now his history with her best friend is so long and messy that Maya doesn't even know how they're all still friends some days. It isn't like she's interested in Lucas, it just feels strange hanging out with your best friend's ex. And at the end of the day, that's what he is.
But the past few days have been strangely not-strange, and the idea that the time Maya spends with him will go back to being limited to his relationship with Riley pulls at an empty space in her chest. Sure he drives her crazy. But he's the only who can keep up with her sometimes. She thinks maybe she needs that.
"Actually, you did." Lucas' voice pulls her out of her thoughts.
"I did what?" Maya asks, turning to look at him. In the shadows of the night his face is even more angular, his jaw barely dusted with five o-clock shadow. He'd started growing facial hair before almost anyone in their grade. It's the Texas in me. He'd said. He's changed a lot, they all have. It's barely two months until they graduate, and Maya is starting to feel the weight of that like a constant buzzing in her ear. Her eyes follow the lines of his cheekbones, his jaw. He looks like a grown man. When did that happen?
"You named he-it-you named it Blue."
Maya smirks.
"If you say so." She's too tired to have this argument again. They pull up in front of her building. Not many tenants here have vehicles, Lucas is right, it's that kind of neighborhood, but there's a brand new white Tesla parked right out front, and she frowns. "That's weird."
Her eyes flit back to Lucas, and notices he's eyeing the car as well, face tense.
"What?" She asks, surprised at how uneasy he looks.
"Uh, nothing, I just-" He breaks off, biting his lip. She raises her eyebrows.
"Spit it out, Cowboy."
He sighs.
"I just… you don't have a drug dealer in your building now, do you?" He nods at the car. She stares at him for a moment, then bursts out laughing.
"Oh my god." She says between giggles. "You're such a…choir boy." He looks offended.
"Well then whose car is that? Marge's?" He's referring to the woman who lives above Maya, the one who has six cats and eats canned food from World War II because that's "the only stuff without those damn hormones".
"Okay, first of all, there are definitely drug dealers in my building. This is New York. And you've met Dave." She reminds him. The twenty-something grad student once made the mistake of trying to sell Riley weed. Lucas makes a face at the reminder. "And do you really think the drug dealers are big into electric cars now? Big into saving the environment?" She eyes the Tesla. Beside her, he shrugs.
"Forget I said anything." He sighs. She claps him on the arm, then swings her door open.
"See ya."
"Goodnight." He says softly, smiling at her. She returns it, because it's late, and she's too tired to fight it.
"Night, Huckleberry. Night Blue." She pats the truck. He rolls his eyes.
She can feel him watching her as she makes her way to the front door, and hears him shift back into first as it closes behind her. She slowly climbs the stairs, almost too tired to open the door to her apartment, but she forces her key into the lock and stumbles inside.