A/N: Here is the next installment of 1989. First I would like to start by saying I am so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to follow, review, and favorite this story. It never fails to bring a smile to my face to receive your feedback. Second, I would also like to put out there I am thinking about adopting a beta reader as I have very little time to write let alone thoroughly edit my work. If you are interested shoot me a pm! I would love to hear from you.

This chapter was a lot harder to write than the other one because this is one of the songs I found the most difficult to relate to Lucas and Maya's relationship. At first I was struggling to write even a thousand words, but then inspiration struck and I ended up with an almost 5,000 word document. I hope you guys enjoy it!

I do not own GMW or Taylor Swift's 1989.

Got a long list of ex-lovers
They'll tell you I'm insane
But I got a blank space baby
And I'll write your name

(Taylor Swift, 1989)

This week his name was Cameron.

As far as Lucas was concerned he had no last name. He was a ninth grader. He played the drums in the school marching band and was a skateboarder. He had brown hair, was 5'9, and had the cutest dimples in all of New York.

Or at least, that is what Riley had told him.

He and his girlfriend had been having Saturday movie night at her house, sitting on the sofa and watching a chick flick he couldn't remember the name of but made Riley grin from ear to ear since they had arranged the date. Lucas had put his arm around her shoulder even though there was still the required six inches between their thighs—Mr. Matthews had checked before retreating into his and his wife's bedroom, his head popping in the doorframe view every fifteen minutes or so to make sure no one had moved while his head was turned.

Apparently, Riley was getting as bored as he was watching one woman try on 27 dresses, because half way into the movie she had started talking. She talked about school, her go-to topic since it was really the only thing the two of them had in common, which lead her to talk about Maya, the other thing they had in common. Lucas never minded. Riley never had anything bad to say about their mutual friend, and he would much rather learn about Maya's life than Farkle's (there were some things you just did not need to know about the kid who was still trying to take over the world—for your own safety)

There was not much Riley told him that he did not already know. Maya was working hard on her new art piece, even though she tried to shrug off the competition Ms. Kossol kept saying she should enter (she had forced Lucas to sit in front of her while she painted. He thought she was trying to paint him, turns out she just wanted somebody to talk to while she worked). She had managed to get an 'A' on her history project (she had done most of the work at his house; she said his mom's cookies were the best study snacks). Her mom was still working late nights at the diner (which was why he still came to visit her apartment after football practice despite her insistence that she was okay by herself). And, lastly, Maya had a new boyfriend.

He had not known about that one. But then again, he could have probably guessed that for himself.

Ever since the beginnings of eighth grade, it seemed Maya was walking down the hall with some guy Lucas had never seen. A lot of the time they were older; high school dropouts who walked the line of serious devotion and serious hormones. Maya began adding a new reputation to her cool and rebellious cred. Their classmates began whispering words as the blonde sashayed by, seemingly above their talk even though she was still shorter than most of her peers. Those words disappeared really fast after Lucas heard them. But even though they were no longer said out loud for fear of the school's star athlete, it still did not stop anyone from thinking them.

The first time a tall guy in ripped jeans and a smirk a little too crooked to be trusted showed up by Maya's locker to pick her up from school, despite the fact he was a tenth grader and the down the street high school ended thirty minutes after their middle school, Lucas had been standing beside the blonde girl, planning on walking to the subway with her as they had ever since Riley had joined the cheerleading squad as a reserve (truth was they were reserving her to bring them water and lip-gloss, but the brunette didn't care) and had to stay for practices. Maya did not like walking alone, and Lucas liked spending time with Maya, so the arrangement worked out well. They had been friends before he had started dating Riley, so it was natural to want to keep up that relationship. Just like it was natural for him to feel...er…protective of the short, blonde girl when he saw the obviously older, no-good boy come up to her.

"Can we help you?" Lucas had said, not liking the look the guy was giving his friend as he approached them. The boy smelled of smoke and gasoline, and he had a swagger in his step that couldn't be anything but bad news. The kids still left in the hallway to grab their bags and books before heading home had all turned their gaze in the small groups direction. There was a mix of curiosity and surprise at the high schooler's presence on everybody's face. Everyone except Maya.

The boy for his part was cool as a cucumber despite all of the attention, and he gave a snort that made Lucas want to punch the guy in the face. Him talking did nothing to help the situation. "Chill, kid, I am just here to pick up my girlfriend."

Before Lucas could try and redeem the little bit of his pride that had been chipped away at being referred to as "kid" and tell the jerk that he should go and do that then, the high schooler had put his arm around Maya.

Like the part of a horror film where the audience waited for the masked killer to jump out of the closet, Lucas waited for Maya to elbow the guy in the neck. He thought at any moment the guy would be on the floor, clutching at his crotch after receiving a carefully aimed kick, and that he and Maya would be on their way. They would head to the subway and she would discreetly mask inviting him to hang over at her place within an insult, and he would insist on getting ice cream at their favorite ice cream shop; Maya would be too stubborn let him buy her anything, so Lucas would get a large scoop of mint chocolate chip (her favorite) and have her finish it after saying he was full. Then they would sit on her couch and watch action movies while Grammy Hart snored in her recliner, and Lucas would go home just before dark grinning as he always did after a movie session with his friend.

But then Maya didn't remove herself from the older boy's grip. Instead she stood their with an impassive smile and shut her locker door, seemingly unaware that every second she acted like it was acceptable for this stranger to be touching her in public—in private, in anywhere— made Lucas' heart beat faster and faster. She gave him a small wave.

"I'll see you tomorrow cowboy," Maya said, mimicking his signature move by tipping and imaginary hat in his direction. She walked away with the whole school watching as she went, and Lucas' eyes following the pair long after.

He shouldn't have been hurt. It wasn't even the fact that she had a boyfriend that upset him, though that bit of information didn't exactly make him feel warm and fuzzy—he was dating her best friend, he had no right to be jealous—what annoyed him was that Maya hadn't bothered to tell him that she was seeing somebody.

Farkle hadn't known. Riley hadn't known (he got to hear about that one for a long time). Both had known Maya much longer than Lucas had. He couldn't expect her to tell him she had a boyfriend when she hadn't told anyone else, but he had hoped he was close enough to her where she would.

Lucas had spent his solitary subway ride fully convinced that nothing between him and Maya would ever be the same. She would be too busy with her boyfriend to spend time eating ice cream or re-watch 80's action films with him; she now had someone else to do those things with, a revelation that made him feel both disappointed and angry, but it turns out he shouldn't have worried as much as he did. Two days later, after inquiring where her new "friend" (Lucas couldn't quite make out the word boyfriend; it still gave him trouble), Maya casually said they had broke up without missing a beat. The news had caused Lucas to grin like an idiot for the rest of the week.

That is until Maya's next boyfriend. And the one after that. And the one after that.

There soon became a new element to their friendship. It really wasn't that different. The two still hung out at least twice a week just as they had before, but now Lucas knew that when Maya wasn't hanging out with him she was more than likely hanging out with her newest boyfriend. It was better than her leaving him entirely, and it was really like nothing had changed. Maya still acted like Maya. She didn't start talking about love or her feelings like Riley. She still called him a wimp when he cringed at the blood scenes on the T.V. and licked her ice cream in a circular motion despite his teasing. Still, it was different.

Riley didn't seem to have a problem with Maya dating so many people. Forever the optimist, his girlfriend believed that Maya would meet the right guy eventually. She just might have to kiss a few frogs before finding her prince (an image that haunted Lucas long after their conversation). In fact, the only one who seemed to have as much a problem with Maya's collection of boyfriends was Farkle.

"I don't like him."

Farkle popped up in front of Lucas' locker, his forehead wrinkled like a pug's face as he stared not-so-subtly across the hall at Maya and a tall, tan-skinned boy with shiny black hair. Lucas knew him from the baseball team. Tommy Morse or "Thomas" as he had heard Maya call him with an un-Maya-like giggle. His teammate had arrived with Maya the morning to ride the subway with them, and every free period they had the two were glued at the hip, laughing and whispering with one another.

Lucas started to nod his head along with the boy genius before realizing that he had been staring at the couple for the last three minutes when he should have been reviewing his English notes—rumor was they had a pop quiz during 5th period, and Riley had purposefully gone to her next class to give him some time to study. He blinked, spinning back to his locker and turning his attention to the spine of his history book.

"You say that about all of Maya's boyfriends," Lucas said into his locker. Farkle's gaze did not waver from the blonde girl.

"Yeah, because I don't like any of Maya's boyfriends," Farkle said with no shame in his voice. Lucas gave a slightly amused roll of the eyes in the direction of his little friend. Ever since Lucas had started dating one of Farkle's two true loves, the Minkus boy had devoted all of his feelings towards Maya. For some reason his friend's flirtation was more annoying when solely directed at their blonde, but Lucas would be lying if he said he did not prefer Farkle confessing his love for Maya than the myriad of boys that she seemed to shuffle through.

Farkle was able to tear his gaze away for a moment to catch Lucas' expression and crossed his arms over his chest. Unfortunately, since the boy had yet to hit his growth spurt, the annoyed look he was giving was much less intimidating and more humorous, but Lucas was not in the mood for laughing.

"Don't act like you don't agree with me," Farkle said with a scoff. "I saw you staring at Tommy in History like he had just kicked a puppy."

Behind him, Lucas could hear Maya laughing at something the boy next to her had said, and he slammed his locker shut, making a sixth grader walking past jump and let out a surprised squeak. The older boy turned to apologize, but apparently the look on his face frightened the younger student even further, and they scurried off with their head down. Farkle raised a brow at him.

"What?" Lucas asked, his voice coming out more defensive than he would have liked to admit. He threw a glance back over at Maya and her boyfriend just in time to see Tommy Morse lean down to give the girl a kiss on the cheek as Maya turned her head so he got her lips instead. The look on the girl's face when the couple parted made it clear that her sudden movement hadn't been an accident, and the breath taken, enamored look on his teammates face indicated he did not mind one bit. Lucas minded. Lucas minded a lot.

The bell rang and Lucas looked down to see his hand had formed into a fist by his side. Farkle took notice and gave him a look that said I told you so.

"Ah, Shut up," Lucas said before walking gloomily to class.

Farkle had every right to not like Maya's boyfriends. The boy had been in love with her since kindergarten. Lucas on the other hand, as Farkle liked to remind him, had no right. He was Maya's friend who was happily dating the girl's best friend who was currently right next to him, six small inches away with a beautiful smile on her face that would usually make him feel warm and fuzzy inside but, because she was talking about Maya, only made him feel strangely hollow.

Riley spent ten minutes going on and on about how she really thought Maya liked this one, and how she was sure that her best friend had finally found love (Lucas did not tell her that their was no rush for the blonde to find love since they were still only in the 8th grade. That could lead to questions from his girlfriend he wasn't sure he wanted to answer). She talked about how this time it could be serious, how Maya and Cameron could go on double dates with them, and Cameron and him could become best friends and everything would be just great. This is what she had said about last five boyfriends, but Lucas did not have the heart to point this out. Instead he sat six inches away from his girlfriend and nodded with a smile that did not quite meet his eyes and kept himself from screaming into a pillow.

Maya let out a long sigh as she fell onto her bed, her blonde hair fanning out behind her. Even from behind the walls of her room, she could still hear the echoing sound of the front door that high school bad-boy Dallas had slammed shut after Maya told him it was time to leave. She counted her breaths as she stared at her pale, uncovered legs peeking from underneath the oversized t-shirt, the only thing to cover her petite frame. Her hair was tangled, eyeliner smudged, and the lipstick she had stolen from her mother's drawer to put on just before the boy had arrived was smeared down to her chin. But Maya couldn't tell. To see her disheveled appearance she would have had to look in a mirror, something she couldn't bring herself to do until long after the newest guy walked out of the door, when sleep helped refill her pride and cloud her mistakes.

But for now, the blonde was wide-awake. Her blue eyes stared at the ceiling as she listened to the sound of her own breathing, long and low. Her body was sore, but only because Dallas had a tight grip, one that wouldn't quite let go the first time she had told him to stop. She always pulled away at the last second, just as she would glimpse a pair of pants be thrown on the floor to lie beside her own. She would draw back, putting her small hand on his chest with enough force behind it to stop a moving truck, even though she wasn't physically very strong. The boy would protest, but she would stare straight past his eyes and say "I think you should go," in a voice lacking the emotion she had just been imitating, like a child playing dress-up in her mother's clothes. Then he would be gone, and she wouldn't see him again until she brought the next guy into her room.

After a few moments of solitude, Maya rolled onto her side towards the edge of the bed just close enough where she could grab a blank notecard and a pen from her bedside table. Rolling onto her back and pulling up her knees as a substitute table to rest the paper on, she scribbled six small letters on the center. When she was done, she ran her thumb over them, tracing the lines as if her finger was riding a rollercoaster. Up and down, she started at the "d" she couldn't bring herself to capitalize and flicked her finger off the page like miming a check mark after tracing the "s." Then, without hesitating, she crumpled up the notecard and threw it in a basket two feet away from the edge of her bed where it joined a small collection of other crumpled note cards that was continuously growing.

It had become a ritual of hers, an art project of sorts. It had started after breaking up with the first guy she had started dating. Granted, unlike her friends she never called the boy she chose to spend time with outside of school her boyfriends (though she had been referred to as a girlfriend more than a handful of times), nor did she really consider the time they spent together as dates.

The first time a boy slammed her front door shut she had felt nothing. There was no sadness or anger or loss, even though she knew she would not be seeing him again. She felt nothing, as if she had only vaguely knew him like a character on television she had humored before changing the channel. So she wrote his name down, tracing the lines of the letters so it was harder to forget, before crumpling it up and tossing it away. She had written down too many names it seemed, and could only account a small number before they disappeared from her mind completely.

But there was one name that no matter how hard she tried she could not forget, even though it the first name she had ever written— the one that she sometimes pulled out and traced before carefully placing it back underneath her mattress where it burned a hole into her mind while she slept. Even though she kept pulling it out and rereading it over and over again, she could not bring herself to toss it away.

She hated herself for not being able to toss it away.

Instead she wrote more names. She wrote long name and short names. Names of places and names the creation of women who thought they were being clever. She wrote nicknames, and names she knew she wasn't spelling right but didn't care enough to ask their proper diction, but no name replaced the one under her bed. No name grabbed her attention long enough to be more than a crumpled memory at the bottom of a waste-bin.

Maya closed her eyes, not tired enough to sleep, but not in the right mind to allow herself time to think. She lay back down and continued to listen to her breaths, their sound the only lullaby she had grown up with, and the only one she had ever needed, until a knocking sound came from her window and caused her breath to hitch.

She waited a moment, preparing herself to see the face of Dallas, or the boy from the week before, or the boy from the time before that, outside at her window, bored and out of options. She would tell him she was no longer interested, or simply pull down the blinds, and he would be too lazy to knock again, and she could go back to listening to the sound of her breaths. But as her azure gaze flickered over to the window, she paused to take in the image of not a blurred, forgotten face, but that of the one she had been trying not to remember.

Lucas.

Her friend.

Her best friends boyfriend.

A name on an otherwise blank page.

Maya forced the blush that was threatening to creep up her neck back down, her gaze impassive as she got up to let him inside. On her way she grabbed a sweatshirt from the floor and pulled it over her head, painfully aware she was only in an oversized shirt that did not cover nearly enough skin to be in the presence of another girl's boyfriend. She opened the window and stepped back, her brows knitting slightly together as she asked. "'Sup cowboy?" It was late out, much later than their usually movie nights, and Maya also happened to know that Saturday's were reserved for a certain brunette with a kind smile and even kinder heart.

She sat on the edge of her bed, arms crossed over her chest as he climbed into her room. He had a half-smile on his face, lips quirked upwards but pressed tightly together as he stared long and hard at her face. Maya was tempted to glance over her shoulder into the mirror to see what he was looking at, but couldn't bring herself to. Instead, she raised her chin in defiance, not letting anything show past her blue eyes gaze.

Lucas opened his mouth once, and then closed it, hands in his jean pocket. He continued to stare at her, but Maya would not let her self move—even though his presence made her want to shift her weight uncomfortably and avoid his gaze. Instead, she stared right back at him and raised a brow. After a moment, Lucas finally found his voice.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, his voice a little too casual. His gaze wandered around her room, stopping at a boy's leather jacket that had been left by a visitor a few weeks previous. His smile dipped slightly as he turned back to her and asked, green eyes inquiring. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Maya replied, her voice sharper than she had intended and matched his tight lipped smile. She didn't want him to see her like this; she didn't want anybody to see her like this. They would get the wrong impression, even though she had never really done what it looked like she had been doing. Cocking her head to the side she asked, "Is that it?"

Lucas started to nod, and Maya watched him stand in her room. He had been in her room before, a few times actually—he liked to play with Ginger—but never had it felt so uncomfortable for him to be there. Maybe it was the fact that most of her clothing was thrown on the ground, or that she knew that not less than an hour ago he had been in the company of her best friend, probably sneaking kisses while Mr. Matthews' back was turned. Lucas looked just like he was going leave back out her window when something changed in his face, and he stopped, his gaze suddenly matching the determined flair in Maya's own.

"Why have you been dating so many guys?"

The question felt like a slap in the face. Riley and Farkle had both asked her the question before, but for some reason when he asked it came like a shock. For a long time she had deluded herself into believing that Lucas had not noticed her new, ever-changing company. He always seemed to ignore it, and she had been grateful for that. Him pointing it out now made her feel dirty the same way looking into the mirror did. Still, Maya did not lower her head.

"It's called testing the waters, Sundance," she said her voice bordering the line between joking and condescending. She looked right past his eyes, trying to keep the flecks of green out of her peripheral vision. "Not everyone is lucky enough to meet their soul mate in the seventh grade."

Lucas's tight lipped expression dipped even further until it was a frown, but he shook it away as quickly as it came and reflected her own expression; guarded and impassive. Maya decided she did not like that look on him very much.

"Alright," he started as if giving her that. Then he crossed his arms over his own chest so his position almost exactly mirrored that of the blonde across from him. "But why go so fast? Why not stick around."

Maya flared her nostrils, annoyed under the light of his judgment. She wanted to tell him that she had enough people judging her and did not need his input. But instead she said, feeling the sting as the words left her tongue, "Some people aren't just worth staying for, okay?"

She got up, suddenly not caring that her legs were exposed, and angrily started grabbing the discarded clothes off the floor and throwing them in the hamper. Moving quickly, she accidently knocked over her waste-bin full of crumpled names, but she was too agitated to care. She refused to look at Lucas, knowing that if she ignored him for a few more minutes he would leave on his own, because that was what people did; they left.

But when she looked back up from her cleaned floor Lucas hadn't left. Instead his features had softened, and the guarded look had been replaced with one of hurt that somehow made her feel more vulnerable than she had all night.

"Is that what you think?" he asked, his voice rising slightly in a tone of disbelief. "That you aren't worth sticking around for?"

"Well it is kind of obvious, isn't it?" Maya returned sharply. "I'm the girl with no dad and half a mom, remember? What makes guys any different?" And she was about to leave, walk out of her room and go somewhere, anywhere to get out of the conversation when she felt a hand grab her wrist and turn her around. She was about to yell, protest that he had no right to touch her, when Lucas grabbed her other hand and forced her to look him in the eyes.

"Listen to me, Maya Hart," he said, his voice commanding and imploring Maya not to look away. Her breathing was too fast, no longer a mellow lullaby as he stressed each of his next words. "You are worth sticking around for. Anyone who says or does otherwise is a fucking idiot. You understand?"

Maya watched him, knowing he truly believed what he was saying. Only Riley had ever expressed so much faith in her, made her feel like she was valuable. But this wasn't Riley. This wasn't the girl who had known her since they were little and who seemed to only be able to see the good in everyone. This was Lucas, the boy who had only known her for a year, and the boy she could never quite hide her true self from no matter how hard she tried. Lucas, who thought she was worth sticking around for.

She was silent, and so he repeated it again. "You understand?"

Maya nodded dumbly. They stood there for a few more moments before Lucas gently let go of her hands and nodded back, shoving his hands back into his jean pockets.

"Good," he said, suddenly looking away. He glanced back at her one more time before heading back towards the window. He opened it back up, turning in her direction just as he headed back outside. "I'll see you tomorrow." And then he shut it and was gone.

Maya plopped back down on the edge of her bed, her breathing still too heavy. She stared at the window for far too long, words swimming through her thoughts like minnows in a pond.

You are worth sticking around for.

She lay back on her back, pulling out a piece of paper from under her mattress before she did so and tracing the five letters with her finger. This time when she reached the final "s" she stared at it, before tucking it safely back in its hiding place. And as she slept one name continued to stick with her, just as it always had and always deserved.

Lucas.

Thanks so much for reading and if you enjoyed don't forget to leave a review!