DISCLAIMER: I do not own these.


"Talk to him," Maya says, but Riley shakes her head vehemently and Maya sighs. Looks like I'll be taking the reigns. Again.

"Hey Hunting Hawk," she calls, saddling up to Lucas with a challenge in her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am?" he replies, tipping his imaginary hat at her, making her shudder in irritation before she says, "I need your number for our science project, because there's no way I'm letting you have us use cow patties as an energy source."

"Why of course," he laughs, putting his number down in her flip phone that she's only slightly embarrassed to have out. "Riley, do you want it to?"

Riley nods vigorously and he puts it in, grinning at them.

"See you tomorrow!"

"How do you do that?" Riley asks, in awe. Maya shrugs, but way, way deep down, she's fairly certain she knows the answer.


Sunday 2:19 PM

Is there a reason my study buddy won't look up from her phone?

She got Lucas's number.

Competition!

Sure, Farkle.


She sits on the window bench in her leaky apartment, debating whether or not she should leave for the Matthews' house now and be able to snag some dinner before heading to the library, scrounge around in the kitchen for sandwich ingredients, or if she should wait for her mom to get home. Mr. Matthews had said he'd emailed all their parents before taking their phones, so her mom was at least aware that she couldn't text Maya that she would be home late, but her mom probably hadn't paid any mind to what Mr. Matthews keeping her phone really meant.

So instead, she grabs an old composition notebook from sixth grade that still had some empty pages in it and a pen before she begins to doodle random nonsense onto the page.


Wednesday 7:47 PM

Look into my eyes!

Farkle you're across town.


"What's that?" Katy asks, nodding to the phone that Maya can't stop turning over in her hands in what can only be described as awe.

"Mr. Matthews bought me a phone," she says, instantly regretting it at the look on her mother's face. "It's only so I'll spy on Riley and Lucas for him," she adds in a rush.

"Well, then," she says slowly, each word like a stab in the gut, "I guess that's okay."

Maya knows she doesn't mean it.