"Maya, if you trip a fifth time, I'm not catching you," Lucas muttered.
The little blonde girl stuck out her tongue and hastily detangled from her rescuer, "It's these shoes! How I'm supposed to walk in these things is beyond me."
He glanced at her feet. The shoes were black and shiny and strappy and skimpy and had the highest, thinnest heels he had ever seen. However, they were typical shoes for his rather short friend- it was just the amount of booze she'd had already that was ruining her usual grace and balance.
"You wear those shoes all the time," he pointed out, "You're just drunk."
"Whatever" the girl shrugged. "I can't believe I'm going to this stupid thing anyway."
"If you don't want to go why are we?" The boy asked, confused. Maya's always down for a party.
"Riley wanted to go to the party because Tyler's hosting it since his parents are out of town, and Danielle is going with Peter, who's friends with Tyler, and Juliet was going to go, but her horoscope said it was a bad idea, so Riley needs me there so Tyler will think she's actually there with people she knows and not just to be with him," she explained in one breath, "Duh."
"Duh," he repeated sarcastically, not sure he'd followed the whole story, but getting the gist of it anyway.
"Are you girls always this crazy about boys?" he asked.
"Us girl?" she scoffed. "Definitely not. But Riley? Yes."
He caught her arm and steered her off the sidewalk towards the house they were headed for.
"Oh, that's right. You're tough as nails." he noticed her smirk out of the corner of his eye. "You don't catch feelings, right?"
Before she had a chance to reply, he had knocked on the door, and it was immediately answered by someone – Tyler, he guessed – who did not greet them except to say, "There's half a couch open in the back."
They walked inside the pulsing music, and she promptly stumbled in the dim lighting. He grabbed her shoulder, and she grabbed his arm, and somehow she managed to keep upright.
"You said you weren't gonna catch me again," she reminded him.
"I lied," he shrugged in response.
The two started in the general direction of the half-couch in the back. She continued to hold his arm as a crutch but then clutched it tighter and pressed herself flush against his side as a staggering figure appeared out of the woodwork and practically fell on her.
The unknown boy reached out and was falling towards her when Lucas stopped his descent and shoved him against a wall, where he was immediately joined by another faceless figure- a taller blonde, possibly Missy- and the two crashed into each other and proceeded to engage in some serious tonsil hockey.
"The couch," Maya repeated, more like demanded, leaving bruising finger marks on his arm, and they continued onward.
Ignoring the couple occupying themselves on one half of the couch, he sat down, pulling her along with him. She was practically in his lap, they were so close together, and he hissed, "What was Riley thinking, going to one of these parties?"
"She must not have known…I definitely didn't! Who knew Riley would get invited to a make out party? Good for her!" the girl cheered quietly, giggling.
"I'm gonna kill Tyler next time I see him," Lucas snarled, angrily.
"Riley's a big girl," she responded briskly, "Maybe she knew it was a make out party. Maybe she wants to make out with Tyler. It is possible, you know, for someone to want to make out with someone who isn't you."
He said nothing, but she continued looking at him like she was waiting for him to do something or say something. She was always antagonizing the boy.
They sat silently, Maya absentmindedly tapping a finger to the beat of the music, until a voice behind them urgently whispered, "Kiss him, Maya!"
The girl turned incredulously to find Riley leaning over the back of the couch, clearly concerned.
"People will notice you're not kissing, and they'll know you're with me, and they'll tell Tyler and-," she rambled on.
"Uh, hello! Why didn't you tell me this was a make out party?" Maya snapped, "I wouldn't have brought Hopalong!"
Riley blinked, "I mean, you two are always together, I just assumed-"
"What did you assume, Riles?! I'm your best friend, I would never do that to you. You two are so hung up on each other, there's no way I would try and get between that," Maya responded, grumpily.
"Oh my God, Maya! We broke up like forever ago!" Riley exclaimed, "It's sweet that you care, but I assumed you guys were, well, you know."
"No! No, we do not know!" the blonde was hurt that her friend would think that little of her, but mostly she was just embarrassed. She did not want to be having this conversation, least of all in front of Lucas and a room full of people they hardly even know, "Plus, even if it weren't for you, me and Cowboy? As if."
A male voice called her name, and she quickly whispered, "It's Tyler; I have to go. Just, please…it's only kissing, right?"
Then she was gone, and Maya decided to turn the awkward moment into a business transaction.
"Well, she said we have to, so-"
She was interrupted by an unnecessarily loud moan from the couple next to them.
"We could always leave," he suggested.
"We could leave-" she started, "but I don't want to leave Riley here alone. There's no way this'll end well."
"Right. So, for Riley's sake," he offered.
"Yes. For Riley," she repeated, and neither were sure who she was trying to convince.
He made sure she had already started leaning before he cautiously moved towards her, and once they were two inches apart, he refused to come any closer. She was left to seal the kiss – a bit more firmly than he had anticipated – and after a few seconds, she pulled away and remarked, "Well, do something!"
"What?" he asked, startled.
Maya sighed exasperatedly, "Move, or open your mouth, or put your arms around me, or something; you're like kissing a wall. Kiss me like I was someone you'd actually want to make out with."
His eyebrows shot up, and she immediately regretted her outburst.
"Maya, it's not that," he started, but she shushed him.
"Stop talking," she said, "Just kiss me, pretend it's Missy or someone."
She propped herself up a bit, sliding herself along his torso. She had already been pressed against him from when he protectively dragged her onto the couch, but now she was totally on top of him and practically eye level with the much taller boy.
"Just pretend," she whispered, before kissing him again.
So he did, but he wasn't pretending she was Missy. Instead, he was pretending that he didn't want to wrap his arms around her, didn't want to kiss every inch of her, and didn't feel his pants grow tight when she whimpered and melted into the kiss.
This was all Riley's fault. And he was so glad.