So I did not think I would ever write fanfiction again after middle school. I certainly did not think I would be writing it after watching a Disney Channel show with my little sister, but I am.

This is a collection of interconnected one-shots inspired by Taylor Swift's 1989. Each chapter is based after her songs in the order they appear on her CD.

I do not own Girl Meets World or Taylor Swift's 1989.

Everybody here wanted something more
Searching for a sound we hadn't heard before
And it said
Welcome to New York

(Taylor Swift, 1989)

Lucas' first thought when he saw the glimmering lights of the city buildings from the window of the yellow cab that drove him and his mom to their new apartment in New York City is that this place will never feel like home.

It is not that he has never seen a city before. Austin, contrary to what his new friends believed, was actually one of the largest cities in the United States. True Lucas did not think any city in the world could ever prepare one for what The Big Apple is like, but it isn't because of a lack of cows and open fields that made this new place still feel like a foreign country a little more than three months later. Home, he had been instilled to believe since a young age, is where one's family is. Unfortunately for Lucas, he was not quite sure where that is anymore, but it certainly is not in New York.

Ever since he was little, Lucas' mom had been obsessed with New York City. He remembered finding her sitting on the couch late at night when he was supposed to be asleep. His dad had been on a business trip again. As Lucas grew up he would discover his dad went on a lot of business trips, but he was only four so the absence of his father was rarely thought of—All kids daddies had to work; they all had to go on special trips every other week, right?

Mrs. Friar had a scrapbook on her lap, her fingers gently touching the page as her eyes trailed over the pictures inside. She was wearing jeans and an old t-shirt, her lips bare of the chalky pink lipstick she always wore when his dad was home. She had looked up as Lucas descended the last squeaky step of their two-story home, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He had been having a nightmare, and when he told his mother this she patted the couch cushion beside her as he waddled over to her and allowed himself to be picked up and placed next to her. Mrs. Friar had pulled him close to her as she showed him the book in on her lap. She had pointed to pictures of bright lights and crowded streets. Post cards, sketches, decorative stickers, and the book had been her shrine to the city. Lucas allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by stories of a magical place where anyone could go and explore all of their wildest dreams. Lucas had asked his mom just as he closed his eyes why everyone did not go to New York City if it was so amazing. He remembered his mothers sad smile and the softness of her voice as his breathing became heavy.

"Not everyone has the courage," she had said with a kiss to his temple. Next thing Lucas knew, it was morning. His father was home. His mother was in the kitchen in one of her dresses, and though Lucas asked continuously where the book about the mystical New York had gone, Mrs. Friar could not seem to remember ever having it.

On Lucas' father's next business trip his mother explained to him that New York was their little secret and reserved only for the times Mr. Friar was gone—like her jeans and rock music. At age four Lucas knew the importance of secrets, so he never mentioned the city around his father again. As time went on he began to forget about the bright lights, tall buildings, and myriad of dreamers that was New York. Instead, his enchantment lied in the only place he had ever lived: Texas.

Texas had been the place of cooked meals and church Sundays. Football games in front of the TV, first bike rides and forced friendships with the annoying neighbor kids, and of amazing friendships between the two other kids who had shown up to Basketball day in San Antonio Spurs jerseys. Texas was the place with his father's crooked grin as he ruffled Lucas' hair in the morning to say hello, and his mother's gentle touch on his cheek as she patted his face to tell him how proud she was of him, and his parent's good-bye kisses as Mr. Friar left for work.

At least that was what it had been until he had found his mother with a Texas size bruise on the side of her cheek only a week after his thirteenth birthday.

Mrs. Friar had been shocked to see her son in front of her. Lucas had been shocked to see his mother sleeping in the bathtub, a bit of blood on the cool, white tile and the jeans she only wore whenever Mr. Friar was on business draped across the toilet with rips on the sides. Something changed in her eyes as her son ran to her side. Only minutes later she had grabbed a pair of her husband's pants, wrapped a torn piece of fabric from one of her dresses as a belt, and left the house with nothing but her son and her scrapbook. A few weeks later, the two were on their way to the city that had only been reserved for dreams.

But New York was no longer the place of secret whispers and fanciful imaginings. It was now a reminder that his mother had been desperate to run away, and that Lucas' father had been the man she had been trying to run away from. No matter how many weekends Lucas went back to Texas and called it his home, he could not quite believe himself. That still did not give his father the right to say he couldn't go.

Lucas was laying on his back on the roof of his apartment building, hands resting behind his head as he tried to make out the stars against the night sky. It was much harder to stargaze in a city like New York, but not impossible with a little bit of effort. The middle school boy did not really care. He just needed a distraction. The week had proven to be a trying one, and at this moment not thinking was the best kind of thinking there was to do.

It was the stupid elections. He had not planned on running for the student council, but then Riley had nominated him and his friends had dubbed him "the moral compass." He had to participate, because he was the golden boy and that was what everyone expected of him. That was where he fit in. There was the boy-genius, Farkle. The lovable dork, Riley. And then there was the troublemaker…

"Sup, Sundance."

Maya.

Standing above him with her blonde curls falling over her ears like streamers and hand on her hips, the middle school girl was the only thing in his line of vision. She had her hands on her hips, blue eyes glinting in the mischievous way that never quite disappeared even when she wasn't doing something dastardly. She was the last person he would have thought to see on his roof, and right now she was also the last person he wants to see. Actually, the last person he wants to see at this moment is his father, but that had been the case since he first moved to New York.

The blonde was the first person who had been able to distract his thoughts from his problems with his family. He had been sitting on the subway reading a book when she had come to him, her wicked grin wide and that same glint shining behind her aqua gaze. At first he had simply been surprised. The girl was very pretty, and though he had been approached by girls his age before it had never been done so boldly. She had introduced herself as Maya, and before he had time to respond she continued to talk, apparently dating and breaking up with him in a matter of seconds.

Technically she had made herself his first girlfriend, and his first ex-girlfriend, but that was hardly what had distracted him. It had been her confidence, her spontaneous flare as she asserted her presence, and later that day as he made his way to his new school she had done what he had thought was impossible. She had made him laugh.

He should be mad at her. After all, hadn't she recorded his phone conversation with his father? Wasn't she going to ruin his chances at becoming president of their 7th grade class? The answer was yes, but despite this Lucas could not quite find it in himself to be mad at her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as she plopped down on the ground beside him. He supported himself on his elbows so he matched the blonde New Yorker. His brows were furrowed. He was not quite sure if this was real or if he had somehow fallen asleep in the time he had been outside. She looked real enough, but the Texas boy was unsure why Maya would be at his apartment building when she lived on the opposite side of the city. Maya on the other hand did not even bother to look at him as she clicked her boots together and stared up at the sky.

"Your mom told me where you would be," she said with a slight shrug.

Lucas almost rolled his eyes. His mother loved Maya. Ever since his blonde classmate had come over for dinner to help work on their muffin business project. It was amusing to see Maya's face when his mom had taken her into her arms for a hug the moment the small blonde had walked through the door.

Lucas continued to watch her for a moment as she looked up at the sky. He wondered what she was thinking about; he always wondered what she was thinking. Lucas was usually good at reading people, but he could never read Maya. She was just as an enigma to him as the day she walked up to him on the subway.

She seemed to sense him staring at her, because Maya turned her head so her chin rested on her shoulder, raising her thick brows at him. She then continued to surprise him with her next question. Though he supposed he shouldn't be surprised with anything when it came to Maya, her presence next to him alone was proof of that. "So what's it going to be, cowboy?"

Lucas couldn't help it. He laughed. "What?"

Maya shook her head. "Alright, I know there probably isn't a lot of thinking involved in the hay barn but try and keep up, Ranger Rick." She said, her voice taking on the faux-southern drawl it did when she was making fun of him. "I mean. What do you want me to do about the recording?"

Oh, the recording. Lucas had almost forgotten that was the reason he was supposed to be mad at her. The remainder of his conversation with his father, the one that had caused him to go outside into the first place, instantly darkened his mood.

"Aren't you going to use it to ruin my chances like you did Farkle's?" he said, his voice taking on a venomous tone uncharacteristic of the native Texan.

Next to him Maya let out a snort, looking at him as if she could not believe how stupid he was being-which really wasn't too different than how she usually looked at him, now that he thought about it. Somehow it did not come off mean, just amused.

"You and I both know you don't really want to be class President. You're doing it because of Riley and Farkle," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He raised a brow at her, and she raised one right back as if to silently ask Am I wrong?

Lucas remained silent. Was he really that transparent? Somehow, he knew that it wasn't his lack of acting skills, but the blonde's ability to read people. He suspected Maya grew up in the kind of household where one had to be observant like he did; like he failed to do.

"So," Maya said with a slight popping sound on the 'o', "I can play the recording and you could lose the election or I can listen to Riles and step aside so you can win the position your moral compass title expects of you." She let out a long sigh as she fell on her back, blonde tendrils fanning out behind her as she lay on his roof just as Lucas had been doing before her arrival. "What's it going to be, Sundance?"

Lucas watched her with his mouth open, processing what she was saying. Since his parent's separation, the golden boy had always been on the look for a way out—a way out of conversation, a way out of obligations. He was always looking for a way that he could do just what he was doing now, too sit on the roof and be allowed to forgo all thoughts and worries and just be. Maya Hart was offering him that, but for some reason he was hesitant to take it.

"You think I would be a bad class president," he said, not able to entirely keep his accusing tone from seeping through the cracks of his words. He did not know why this statement hurt him. Out of all the people he felt like he needed to impress, Maya Hart should not have been at the top of his list. He doubted Maya expected him to be some great leader, but he could not help but feel as if he had disappointed her in some way. Maya did not miss a beat in answering him.

"Of course not," she said with the same obvious tone she had used earlier. She looked completely at ease as she stared up at the night sky, as if her conversation with him was an afterthought while she took in all the wonders a seemingly starless New York canvas could offer. "Out of all the candidates you are to best choice."

Lucas furrowed his brows. It was in that moment he decided he would never meet a girl more confusing than Maya Hart.

"What about, Riley?" he said trying to not sound like a complete idiot to his short friend, but failing to understand what she was thinking.

"Riley could be a good leader, and she will be with time," Maya breathed still staring at the sky. " There is no doubt about that, but she is also still naive. She wants to be a princess, but to be a leader you have to accept being queen." She paused again, and Lucas couldn't tell what she was thinking as her sea-blue eyes seemed to become lost in thought. "She isn't ready for that, not yet. You on the other hand are."

Lucas took in the girl's words, understanding and not understanding everything she was saying. He wanted to dig deeper, ask why she thought he was ready to be a leadership when her best friend wasn't. But he didn't, instead he lowered himself back down onto his back, aware that her hair was touching his ear as he let out, "Okay."

They were quiet again, Maya seeming to understand what his answer meant even if Lucas still did not. He stared at the sky, tracing the outlines of possible stars and imagining what it would be like to see them shine on a dark, city night. Maya was there, he could not picture the scenario without her even though just moments ago he had been alone. She completed his version of escape; she was still acting as his way out.

"You know you don't have to keep going back to Texas," Maya said after a few minutes, her voice so quiet that Lucas was surprised he heard it. "You have a home in here too." Lucas blinked and kept looking at the sky.

"New York isn't my home, but neither is Texas" he said slowly, the words coming off of him like a weight he had not known he was carrying. " Home is where your family is. My family isn't a family anymore."

Maya let of a low hmmm, her lips pressed together, the corner of her lip quirking upward in a way that masked as a smile but actually meant something else. "Funny. If that was the case I would have been homeless for a long time."

Not for the first time, Lucas felt like a complete idiot. If anyone knew bad home life it was Maya. Sometimes she did such a good job putting herself back together he forgot that she was still broken. He was about to open his mouth and apologize for his insensitivity and ability to be a total ass, but she continued before he could let the words out.

"Home can be family, but it can also be other things," Maya said her eyes taking on that same faraway look that Lucas could not see past. "When you have half a mom and no dad home is where your friends are." She turned on her side, looking at him once more. "You have that in Texas, and you have that here in New York. You, Lucas Friar, have two homes."

With that, the blonde got up, brushing the dirt off of her jeans, before heading to the door. Lucas watched her go, not realizing a smile was forming on his lips as he watched her curls bounce behind her with each step. Just as she began to turn the knob, he called out.

"Does this mean that we're friends, Maya Hart?" he asked, using her full name as she had used his. It would only be when he was back inside that he would realize that was the first time she ever called him Lucas and not one of her nicknames. Maya gave him one of her smiles, this one less of a mask.

"Welcome to New York, cowboy," she said tipping an imaginary hat his way before turning back around with a whip of her blonde hair and heading down the stairs.

Lucas stared at where she had been long after she was gone. After a few minutes, he looked back up at the sky. Maybe he didn't need a way out. He might just need to accept that he was lucky enough to find a way in. Which is why the next day when Riley was returning the horse back to it's proper place, he put his new, I Heart New York cap on his head and tipped it at his blonde friend. "Thanks, Maya."

There you have the first chapter! Updates will be spontaneous but hopefully frequent. I would love it if you left me a review and let me know what you thought. Thank you for reading!