Warning: This chapter is leading up to Maya's drug use and I'm not going to shy away from the topic. I'm not going to go beyond the rating of this story, but some of themes explored may be closer to a later night TV show. I do not condone or support any kind of experimentation when it comes to medication and if you have a problem, I advise you to seek help.
Humans like to break up time into manageable pieces; probably so that it doesn't seem as terrifying as it is to look out and see the endless expanse of everything that is out of their control. There are days, weeks, hours, minutes, but sometimes it's all you can do to get from second to second, which is exactly how Maya feels.
She feels as though she's slowly drowning and every time she catches a glimpse at the surface of the water, she can't quite get close enough to get a breath of air. There's so much weight pressing onto her and no one has any idea what she's experiencing. No one knows what it's like to fear that you're becoming everything that you never wanted to become.
Maya comes in to school late to clean out her locker. She's hoping to avoid the crowd of younger kids who will all want to get it done early and she doesn't want to wait in line for her yearbook. She just wants to get everything done that she needs to and to get out.
She puts in the familiar combination and starts shoving the pictures from her locker door into her backpack. There's plenty of her and Riley, a few of Zay and Farkle. She'd removed everything of Lucas when he had picked Riley and there's a jagged edge to a picture that she tore him out of.
"Maya," the voice that haunts her nightmares says and she has to take a moment to steady herself before she can turn around. She knows that the hall is empty and her heart speeds up at the possibilities of what he wants from her.
"What do you want, Logan?" Maya snapped, inching her way around him so that she wasn't pinned to the walls.
"I wanted to return your jacket," Logan held it out and Maya hesitated before she reached out and took it from him, "Friar's pretty protective of you."
"He's a good friend," Maya refused to turn her back to him, tucking the jacket into her arm.
"Guys who fight for someone like that, have more than friendship on their minds," Logan snorted, backing up several steps.
"Not Lucas," Maya felt the need to insist, glad to have the expanding space.
"You ever heard of the Peter Pan Complex?" Logan questioned, pausing in his retreat. His eyes were lit up and it made Maya uncomfortable.
"No," Maya replied, hoping that the blunt dismissal would convince him to just go.
"Guys like having a Wendy; someone who will look out for them and look at them like they're special. They like the good-girls, but at the end of the day, all of us want a chance with a Tinker Bell. We want someone who drives us a little crazy," he smiled and Maya instinctively took a step back, "Guess which one you are?"
Maya couldn't find the words to respond, but she watched as he made his way around the corner and out of her line of sight. There were goosebumps coating her skin and the same nausea from her last encounter with him threatened to overcome her. She kept her eyes trained on the hallway as she finished clearing out her locker and left it open for whoever would inspect it next.
Pulling her backpack onto her back she headed in the direction of the library, where they were supposed to be handing out yearbooks. She felt a sudden need to get out of the building as quickly as possible. Her skin was crawling.
The sound of footsteps heading in her direction, had her ducking into the restroom and around the corner. Logically, she knew that Logan was probably long gone, but why risk another encounter?
"Logan said that she was headed this way," a voice said, pausing just in front of the bathroom.
"I just don't see Maya Hart bringing drugs onto school property. She's a little rough around the edges, but she's a good girl," Mr. Mathew's voice returned and Maya froze in shock.
"Logan was very clear about seeing her shove a pill bottle into her jacket," the man said, his voice sounding stern.
"It could have been anything," Cory disagreed, "It's the last day of school and I think we should just let it go."
"If she is dealing or using, I would imagine that she'll still be doing it next year," the man seemed to shrug it off, "You'll keep an eye on her?"
"She's my daughter's best friend, of course I will," Cory insisted, his voice starting to fade as they continued down the hall.
Maya hesitantly reached her hand into the pocket and pulled a prescription bottle out. It wasn't hers and the label to whoever it belonged to had been torn off, but she could still make out the, "Oxy," in the title. Logan had tried to get her set up for bringing drugs onto school property.
She didn't bother with getting her yearbook and instead made her way out the nearest exit.
"Going somewhere?" Riley questioned, entering Maya's room and sitting on her bed. Maya's bag was open on the bed and she was currently stuffing clothes into it. A part of her was angry, but another part of her just wanted to be out of the city.
"Yeah," Maya replied, refusing to look at Riley. She didn't want to lie, but she wasn't going to tell Riley the truth, either. Riley had been a mess since the break up and Maya wasn't going to do anything to make her feel worse.
"You going to tell me where?" Riley pressed, staring intently at her feet. Maya knew that Riley was putting on an act, but she could barely handle her own problems. Riley would get beyond her heartbreak.
"Art camp," Maya lied, turning her back to Riley as she snagged her sketchbook and colored pencils off of her desk.
"You didn't tell me you were going," Riley pointed out, but under the hurt in her voice, Maya could detect something that was a lot like relief. It made her feel slightly better that her best friend needed space, too.
"It was a last minute decision, I just need to get away for a while," Maya said, glad that she could at least tell a partial truth.
"Uncle Josh asked about you," Riley informed her and Maya felt her spine go tense.
"What did he say?" She asked, wishing that she didn't care.
"He just said that he's worried that you're a little lost," Riley replied, her voice gentle.
"You can't be lost when you know exactly where you're going," Maya replied, zipping the bag closed. It wasn't where she wanted to go in life, but she knew where she was, all the same.
"Maya," Riley sighed and Maya knew that Riley wanted to bridge the gap. She wanted to return their friendship to exactly what it was, even after all of the mistakes that Maya had made and all that it had cost Riley.
"I'll write," Maya suggested. She wanted to go back too, but she wasn't sure how to and she wasn't going to drag Riley down with her.
"But you hate writing," Riley replied and it was strange that the person who knew her best in the world, couldn't see how distorted Maya had become. She was the same Maya that Riley knew, but she also wasn't. All of her interests and preferences were the same, but she felt like an entirely different person.
"Take care of yourself, Little Plant," Maya said, letting the words serve as her goodbye.
"Dad said that you didn't come in to pick up your yearbook," Riley pulled the book out from under her arm, "I thought you might want it."
"Thanks," Maya hesitantly took it from her, staring at the school's logo that took up most of the cover.
"Whatever happens, I love you, Maya," Riley assured her, pulling her into a hug.
"I love you, too," Maya replied, trying to ignore the guilt that was eating her alive.
She flips through the yearbook after Riley leaves and isn't surprised to find that Riley has already written out a sentimental message. She knows that the rest of her friend group met up earlier that day to sign yearbooks at, "Topanga's," but she hadn't made it there herself. There are messages from most of her friends and even a few lines from Mr. Mathew's telling her that she was welcome to come to him if she ever had any problems. She knows exactly what he's talking about, but she'd rather not admit to the kind of trouble that she's gotten herself into. Not when there are still people who believe that there's good in her.
Her art is featured in a section and she's pictured with the art club. Looking at herself in the picture is strange because she can barely recognize the person looking back. She looks thinner then what she should and the shadows under her eyes aren't nearly as concealed as what she had tried for that day. She can barely remember taking the picture a few months ago, but her bloodshot eyes are a dead giveaway that she's into some kind of trouble.
Maya shuts the book and shoves it under her bed, hoping that it will get lost along with the evidence of her weakness and the many mistakes that she's made. Her jacket is sitting on the edge of the bed, just inches from where Riley had sat down and she finds herself reaching over and pulling out the bottle.
She knows that she should get rid of the bottle of prescriptions pills. Why would she hang onto anything that was given to her by Logan? But there's something inside of her that just won't let her. She holds the bottle in her hands and shifts it back and forth; listening as the pills shuffle around and bump into each other. She should get rid of them, she knows that, and she will, but not in her own home. She tucks them into the bottom of her bag and heads for the door.
Travis Friar is every bit as imposing as his son. He's tall, with broad shoulders and the same sandy hair that Lucas has. However, Lucas's eyes are all his Mom's. They look like an almost perfect family and Maya would have been jealous of them if she wasn't in on all the angst.
Nick appears happy to be going home, but he tunes out the world around him with the set of headphones in his ears. Rebecca has Nick's hand clutched in her own and she shows no obvious signs that she's ever going to let go. Travis sits on the opposite site; his eyes distant and haunted.
"You seem jumpy," Lucas commented, from the seat next to her. They're in the airport, waiting on their plane and Maya can't help feeling that she's somewhere that she really doesn't belong.
"I'm fine," Maya insists, forcing herself to focus on her surroundings.
"You keep saying that," Lucas informed her, his eyes telling her that he doesn't believe her.
"Because it's true," Maya rolls her eyes, shifting away from him in her seat.
"Does Riley know?" Lucas questions and Maya doesn't have to ask about what.
"I told her that I'm spending the summer at art camp," Maya replied, folding her arms.
"How did she seem to you?" Lucas pressed and Maya resisted the urge to groan.
"Why don't you call her and ask?"
"We're boarding," Rebecca cut into their conversation, not releasing Nick from her grip as they moved towards the plane. She seemed anxious and her movements were agitated.
"This should be fun," Maya commented, following along behind them.
She slept through most of the plane ride and tried to ignore the obvious moping that Lucas was doing. She wished that she could tease him for pining for Riley, but she knew that he was upset about more than that. She wondered if he could even separate all of the emotions he was feeling.
"I think this is the longest you've ever gone without teasing me," Lucas said, when it was time to get off.
"I can't become predictable," Maya shrugged, tossing her hair over one shoulder.
They made their way through the airport and were picked up by a car service. Maya had known that Lucas's family wasn't exactly in the grips of poverty, but they hadn't traveled first class. The house that the car took them to, suggested that maybe they should have.
"This is the family home," Lucas informed her, his voice low enough that the rest of his family couldn't hear.
"You were holding out on us the last time we were here," Maya said, trying to remain unaffected.
"My parents were worried that we'd break something and they wanted us to have adult supervision. Pappy Joe won't come anywhere near this place," Lucas shrugged, grabbing her bag before she could.
"I am capable of carrying my own things," Maya insisted, trying to snag it back from him as they headed towards the front door. There was a fountain on the front lawn that was spewing water into the air and despite the family spending most of their time in New York, the grounds were all nicely kept.
"I believe you," Lucas said, keeping the bag just out of her reach.
Maya found herself frozen as she took in the main entryway. A crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling and the floors looked like cherry-wood. A formal living room could be seen on one edge of the room and a hallway that led further into the house. A grand staircase was the center of the room and Maya found herself wondering if the boys had ever tried to slide down the banister.
"You'll show Maya to the one of the guest rooms?" Rebecca questioned, pausing as she stared at a family picture on the wall. Travis had disappeared behind a closed door almost as soon as they had gotten inside and Nick had gone down the hallway.
"I can handle it, Mom," Lucas assured her, watching his mother with worry written all over his face.
"I think we'll keep Nick on this level, where I can get to him if he needs anything," Rebecca informed them, abruptly turning away from the picture.
"You're staying down here?" Lucas asked and she could tell that this wasn't a normal occurrence.
"I don't want Nick overtiring himself with the stairs," Rebecca replied, her smile looking slightly forced. Maya knew there was more to the story, but she was relieved they were going to try and keep it from her.
"I'll take care of Maya," Lucas said, leading her towards the stairs.
"Thank you, Dear," Rebecca called, watching them go, "Maya, do make yourself at home."
"How many guestrooms do you have?" Maya asked, incredulously when they had turned the corner.
"Two, technically three, but Dad turned one into a study," Lucas replied, propping open a door and leading her inside.
"This isn't at all what I expected," Maya admitted, taking in the neutral bedspread and white walls. It looked like something off of a magazine.
"I spent most of my time at Pappy Joe's, it's always felt more like home, then here," Lucas offered, setting her bag on the bed.
"There's more to Texas-Lucas, then what all of us thought, isn't there?" Maya questioned, pausing to look out of the doors that led onto a balcony.
"You have no idea."
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