A/N: Here's my latest Lucaya one shot. As usual it's pushed into the future, sometime in the middle of their college years. The title and below lyrics are from the song "Breathe (2AM)" by Anna Nalick. The story isn't exactly based on or inspired by that song or the line, it just kind of presented itself when I went looking for a title midway through writing this. This was written awhile ago and sat waiting with a bazillion other things I have written but have yet to post (if you're looking out for anything specific from me, check out my profile. It has a coming soon list of everything I have written and waiting to post). It was written entirely before Girl Meets Texas, not that this does anything that makes anything that's happened in canon impossible, it just doesn't address any canon plot lines. Let me know what you think! Enjoy! R&R! Thanks! ~Mac
Disclaimer: I don't own GMW, or "Breathe (2AM)."
Unravel My Latest Mistake
Two AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake.
"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?"
.
.
.
Maya is seventy five percent sure that the room is not supposed to be spinning. She seems to be the only one that has to hold onto the wall to stay on her feet. Although, she can't be sure of that either, since it takes her at least thirty seconds to blink the scene in front of her into focus. In any case, she's the only one stumbling down the narrow hallway with both arms thrown out straight, fingers trailing along the walls on both sides of her, ready to catch herself, just in case the floor decides to slant any further. She stops a moment, to close her eyes and focus on her breathing, because being this off balance is making her dizzy. No matter which direction she goes, her stomach feels like it's going the opposite. She goes right and her stomach lurches left, churning the contents and threatening to reject them completely. Her organs are traitors and a few hours ago this seemed like a good idea.
But, hell, most of her ideas seem great in theory, but hardly ever are in practice.
This is just one more bad decision in a long line of recent mistakes that belongs solely to Maya Hart. She would reflect on them now, thumb back through them, assess and catalog them for maximum mortification, but there's pressure on her head making it hard to concentrate on anything for more than a few seconds. All her thoughts are murky and out of focus. She needs all of her brain power to address her current situation.
That situation would be at a Gamma Gamma Nu sorority party, drunk off of too many shots, unable to pick out Riley in the throng of identical sorority girls, and, currently, inexplicably lost as she tries to navigate her way to a bathroom. She's about two minutes from being sick, and if she can't find the bathroom, she's likely to take advantage of the first potted plant or trash can she comes across. If she even makes it tat far. In her current state, she can't guarantee her next step, let alone anything past how far she can stretch her hand out in front of her.
This is about the time that Maya would promise herself be this stupid ever again, but the way her night is going, she's not likely to remember her name by morning—so she can basically count on any self deprecating oaths of personal improvement flying right out the window. It's all pointless anyway. She's been this stupid before and she'll be this stupid again. She can only hope that the next time around she has better reasons behind it.
There is an open doorway to Maya's left, that she almost falls through when she turns her head to look into it, and she has never been so happy to see a bathroom with it's glorious porcelain and tile. The Gamma Gamma Nu girls are meticulous when it comes to keeping their facilities spotless. Maya's gotten such a head start on everyone, that it's early enough in the night that no one else has had a chance to tarnish the sparkling clean sheen on this particular bathroom. She stumbles inside and gets the door closed behind her, but her fingers fumble on the knob and she can't get the lock clicked into place. She gives up, it's too much effort, and she's not sure she has enough dignity left to be ashamed if someone were to walk in her now. She has seen far worse at parties like these.
Hell, she's done far worse at parties like these.
Maya feels like she's overheating, her whole body is tinged with warmth. Her brow is damp with sweat and alcohol burns like fire through her bloodstream. She is almost certain that she's about to be reunited with her last meal and an unholy cocktail of cocktails so she collapses beside the toilet. Of course, once she's there, once she's saved herself from the humiliation of killing a plant or ruining some unlucky girl's shoes, nothing happens. She spent so much time swallowing down the nausea that it's dried up on her. She's not complaining; she would just be happier if the room would stop turning on its axis too.
Maya moans as she falls back against the closest wall. She slides down until she's slumped at a weird angle that almost grounds her enough the bring the world back into alignment. All she wants to do is go home, crawl into her bed and sleep for twenty years, but she's not moving an inch without help. It wouldn't be the first time she spent the night in a bathroom, but since there is still a party raging on outside the door and the odds of someone needing to use the restroom between now and morning are high—not to mention the odds that said people in need of the restroom aren't likely to care that a small blonde girl is curled up next to the required toilet—she knows she needs to make other arrangements. She manages to get enough control over her limbs to twist around and retrieve her cell phone from the pocket of her dress. The screen is almost blinding when she clicks it on. She has to shield her eyes against the glow as she tries to navigate through the menus. She can't keep her eyes on the screen for too long, so she sends out a silent thank you into the universe to whoever invented speed dial—even in her drunken fog she figures that is the sort of useless factoid that Farkle would know—as she hits send. She presses the phone to her ear and listens to the steady tone of it ringing. Then it clicks through as her call is answered.
"Maya?" the voice on the other end of the line is low, tired, but not groggy, so she hasn't woken him up with her call.
"Hey, Cowboy?" Maya says, matching his quiet volume. "How's the ranch?"
There's a lot of various shuffling sounds on the other end. She imagines that she caught him in bed and now he's getting up. She can picture him moving around his room as he comes up with a response to her practically snark-less snarky remark.
"If you mean my dorm," Lucas finally says. "It's about as barnyard animal free as it's always been."
"About?"
"Where are you, Maya?"
"I can't say," Maya says, rolling her head so she could stare at the door. "If I do, a wild pack of sorority sisters might storm in here and carry me out. They did that to Riley about an hour ago and I still haven't been able to find her. Besides, it's better if I stay near the commode until my stomach gives up its dreams of acrobatic glory."
There's some more shuffling on his end, then Lucas says, "I'm on my way."
"Okay."
"Don't move from where you are until I get there."
"I couldn't if I tried," Maya tried to laugh, but the motion does not do her stomach any favors.
Maya waits for Lucas to hang up before she lets her phone fall to her lap. She can't think straight enough to estimate how long it might take Lucas to reach her, but she figures it can't be that long. She would put money on the odds that he was out the door before she had even clued him in to where she was. It's just the kind of guy he is. Of course, there's also the fact that this has become something of a routine for them.
After sitting in one place for so long, the hyper rotation of the world has slowed down substantially. Maya takes that as a hint that lying down would make everything even better. So, she slides further down the wall until she is flat on the ground. She curls in on herself, pulling her knees and elbows in to tuck herself into a ball. She rests her head on the tiles of the bathroom floor and lets the coolness seep into her cheek. Her perception of time must be off because it feels like one second she's got her face to the tile and the next Lucas is kneeling beside her, brushing her hair out of her face and pulling her up to cradle her against his chest. She doesn't hear him come in, doesn't register his presence until she has the soothing sound of his heartbeat in her ear and the rustic, homey scent that she defines him by surrounding her. She's pretty sure that's the only scent that wouldn't make her sick in that moment—she'd be disappointed if that's not what Texas smells like. The refreshing chill of the bathroom floor had been nice, but this is much better.
"This isn't so bad," Maya sighs and relaxes into his arms.
"Tell me that again tomorrow when you're experiencing the hangover from hell," Lucas laughs and it rumbles through his chest under her cheek. He runs a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. "You gotta know your limits, Maya."
"I know my limits," Maya says. Then she adds a moment later, "I specifically ignored them."
"Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" Lucas asks.
"Why are boys such fucking liars?" Maya counters. As she realizes who she's talking to, she clarifies, "I don't mean you, Huckleberry. You're an exception."
"Good to know," Lucas says.
"I just wanted to forget," Maya says.
"And did you?"
"No, I never do," Maya nuzzles in closer to Lucas and lets him tug her all the way onto his lap so he can hold her tighter. She rests one hand on his chest and fists her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. "Nothing takes it away. Except maybe this."
Lucas's arms slide around her, cocooning her in his embrace. "Then maybe it's time you found a better means of coping."
"You're right," Maya says. "You're always right. Why do you always have to be right?"
"I'd rather you be happy than I be right," Lucas says and she feels his breath on her hair. It's comforting having him that close and she breathes him in as all the turmoil her body was in eases away.
When she finally feels like she can move without feeling apart, Maya asks, "Can you take me home?"
"Of course," Lucas says. It takes him a couple minutes to get himself and her situated on their feet, but once he does, he tucks Maya under his arm and against his side. "Let's get you out of here, Short Stack."
…
Maya wakes up the next morning, possibly early afternoon if the amount of natural light filling her room is taken into account, curled under the covers in her own bed. She remembers being at the sorority house, but not how she got from the bathroom at Gamma Gamma Nu to her apartment. She vaguely remembers being lectured into changing into her pajamas before she collapsed on her mattress and pulled the blankets over her head. Little by little she remembers more and more of the night before, until the only thing on her mind is the tangy aroma of a familiar cologne that she can still smell even now. She peels back the blanket just enough to peek out and finds Lucas sleeping, sitting up against her headboard, arms crossed over his chest, still fully clothed and on top of the sheets.
Maya lets the blankets fall away and releases a low growl of a groan.
Lucas instantly snaps up, blinking furiously and is alert within seconds. "Are you okay? Do you need a bucket or the bathroom or—"
"I'm fine," Maya grumbles, throwing an arm over her face.
Lucas lets out a long breath, his muscles relaxing with relief. He rubs at his eyes and looks down at her. "How do you feel?"
"Stupid," Maya says.
"You're not stupid."
"Yes, I am," Maya attempts to shake her head, but the motion allows the inkling of a headache throbbing behind her eyes to shake out and assert its reign on her entire skull. "Ugh, I'm—I'm such an idiot."
"You are not," Lucas insists.
"I am, because if I wasn't, you wouldn't be here right now. You would be warm in your bed back at the dorms, getting a restful and comfortable night sleep," Maya says. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have had to sleep in your clothes all night without any blankets. You're not even using a pillow for god's sake."
"You need them more than I do," Lucas says. "Besides, if it wasn't for you, I'd probably be up for hours studying by now, so believe me, this is an improvement."
Maya wants to gag at how unnecessarily good-natured Lucas is, and celebrates that, at least in this moment, she doesn't mean literally. Her whole body feels heavy and her headache is intensifying by the second, but at least her stomach isn't doing a jig all over her other organs. That is an improvement; she's not sure if Lucas grasps that concept.
"I'll be right back," Maya untwists herself from her sheets and rolls out of bed onto her feet.
"Are you sure you're okay? Do you need help?" Lucas pushes himself up as if to follow.
"Stay," Maya says, putting up a hand to halt him, and he drops back down onto the bed. "I'm fine. It's just a normal bathroom visit. I promise I'll yodel-ay-hee-hoo if I need your assistance."
Maya leaves her room and shuffles to the bathroom. She swallows some aspirin from the medicine cabinet with a palm full of water from the faucet and brushes the taste of sleep and stale alcohol out of her mouth. When she starts to feel vaguely like herself again and not just a dull jackhammer of pain encased in a human body, she returns to the room. Lucas is still exactly where she left him, waiting for her. This time, when she crawls back into bed, she stays on top of the covers and scoots in close to Lucas. She curls against his side and tucks in her chin as she rests her head against his chest. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and lets her settle in as she pleases.
"You must get so bored of me," Maya says, "Always having to bail me out."
"I will never get bored of having to come to your rescue, Maya," Lucas says and she's glad she can't see his face from this angle, because she doesn't want to know what look his eyes have taken on. "It's the only time you let me close to you anymore. The rest of the time you push me away, keep me at arm's length, maintain distance. I know that has a lot to do with this guy—"
"He told me I was beautiful, that I was amazing, that I was everything he ever thought he wanted—and then he told me that he would never love me," Maya says. "And just like that, it made everything he ever said a lie, a broken promise. I suppose I should be used to those by now."
"Maya—"
"Please, don't apologize for him," Maya says. "After all he put me through the past few months—all the fights, all the missed dates, everything—I thought at least we were heading somewhere better. I figured if he thought all those wonderful things about me that there was potential and then he was just done. Gone. And I was miserable, even though I didn't love him either. All I wanted to do was drown out the dark thoughts, but it didn't matter how much I drank. It didn't shut off. It just made me sick."
"I wish you could see how much better you are than this, whatever this is that makes you feel less than," Lucas says. "You are all those things he said you were, even if he can't find it in him to love you for them. How he feels about you doesn't change who you are."
"Why does it feel like it does though?" Maya asks.
"Because intentionally or not, he found your one weakness," Lucas says. "You trusted him and he broke that trust. You let so few people in because you're cautious of your heart. And you feel like all this is your fault because you let the wrong person in."
"You sure you're in the right field of study? You'd make a fine therapist," Maya says. "Dr. Huckleberry. It has a sort of ring to it."
Lucas laughs lightly along with her. "I appreciate the career advice—especially since it doesn't include any mention of bull riding or wrangling cattle—but this only works with you, because I know you."
"Hmm," Maya mumbles. She closes her eyes and presses her face further into his chest.
"It's not your fault," Lucas says after a minute, "In case you need to hear it out loud. You should let people in. You shouldn't deny yourself the chance at something amazing. You were not too trusting; he was just untrustworthy."
"The problem is telling the difference," Maya says.
"That's a problem that everyone has," Lucas replies. He reaches his other arm around her to pull her closer. "Deciding when to take a risk and when to be careful is hard for everyone, because you can only know if it's worth it in hindsight."
Maya sighs, "I can always count on you to make sense of everything. It's like you can crawl into my head and untangle the mess I've made of everything piece by piece. It's kind of disturbing actually."
"It's just because I know you, Maya," Lucas says. "And I've had the luxury of doing this a few times before."
"Hopefully, you won't have to do this ever again," Maya says.
"This isn't so bad," Lucas runs his hand over her hair and plays with some of her curls at the end.
"Tell me that again tomorrow when you're sore beyond words from sleeping upright," Maya counters.
"I'll do that."
…
Maya isn't completely aware of when she dozes off, but it's somewhere in the middle of the lulling rhythm of Lucas's fingers in her hair and her pulling him down to lay flat, on her pillows, with her. She hasn't been asleep that long, but it's long enough that she is just on the edge of dreaming when she snaps back to reality. There are vague images of lips and fingers, that are dangerously familiar, swimming around in her head, and, although nothing sticks long enough to be fully realized, heat flares in her cheeks anyway. She blinks a few times to clear her vision and tilts her head up to look at Lucas. He stares right back at her.
"Have you been awake this whole time?" Maya asks.
Lucas nods, "Yeah, I've had enough of a nap already."
"Why didn't you wake me up?"
"You needed your rest."
"That doesn't mean you should have to be uncomfortable," Maya says.
"Who says I'm uncomfortable?" Lucas replies.
Maya sits up, sliding out of his arms, so she can see the clock on her bedside table. "Don't you have to be at work soon?"
Lucas shifts upright and looks at the clock himself. "Yeah, I should probably get going, so I can stop at my dorm and change before my shift."
"Okay," Maya says. "I'll walk you out."
She follows Lucas out of her bedroom and across the apartment to the front door. There's a sort of dizzying quality still surrounding everything that she's pretty sure has little to do with the alcohol still filtering out of her bloodstream. It gets stronger the closer she gets to sending Lucas on his way. If she took a second to analyze it, she's sure she could identify what it is, but she's trying not to think too hard, lest her headache return full force. She pulls open the front door for Lucas to step out and they linger there on opposite sides of the doorway.
"Thank you for the free counseling, Huckleberry," Maya says. "If nothing else, you've saved me thousands of dollars on therapy."
"You know," Lucas leans against the door frame. "Veterinarians are doctors too. So, if you're partial to Dr. Huckleberry, I don't have to change my focus for it to be fitting."
"I'll keep that in mind," Maya smiles.
"Good, you're smiling. That means I have done my job. I can go," Lucas says. "This has been more effective in making you feel better than drinking, hasn't it?"
"Tell that to the first couple shots I took. I felt great after them," Maya says. "It was the third, and the fourth, and the fifth through tenth and on that made everything worse."
"You have got to stop trying to drink away your problems," Lucas reaches out one last time to tuck some stray hair back behind her ear. He lets his finger linger, trailing down her jaw to her chin, before pulling back his hands.
"If I do that, we won't get to have these amazing nights together," Maya swallows hard and tries to keep her voice light.
"Sure we would," Lucas says.
Maya wobbles her head, "Sure."
"If you have a problem, any problem," Lucas says as he starts to back into the hallway away from her door. "You call. I'm there. No exceptions. No stipulations."
That's his way of saying goodbye, because it's been years since they've said that actual word. They always seem to let their conversations fade away until they're put on hold, as if they know for sure that they'll see each other soon enough to pick up right where they left off. And they always have. But right now, this time, Maya isn't ready for the conversation to be over, even temporarily. Lucas said that people only learn if something is worth it in hindsight and Maya is learning something right now. She remembers how being in Lucas's arms made everything feel better. None of her ails were any match for the ease his mere presence put her in. All of her problems melt away as soon as he's near. Everything that she has gone through, all the bad nights, all the stupid mistakes she wants to hate herself for, all the wrong she's done and has had done to m her—it's all worth it when it leads to moments like those. Maybe she's never opened herself up to what those moments could mean, because she's so cautious with her heart. If she's going to choose to take a risk, it's going to be this one.
Maya leans out her door to watch Lucas as he walks away down the hall. She takes a deep breath and steps out into the hallway.
"Wait," Maya says before she can talk herself out of it and Lucas turns back toward her. She takes deliberate steps toward him and he matches her pace until they meet in the middle. "Maybe the solution is to find a way to do away with those problems all together."
"And how would you do that?" Lucas asks.
As an answer, Maya stretches up onto her toes, wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him.
And hell, it's probably a terrible idea, one more bad decision to add to her list of latest mistakes, but Lucas kisses her back and maybe whatever happens from here won't be so bad. Maybe it's their chance for something amazing. It certainly has the potential.
-fin-