You go, I go
"The world doesn't revolve around you."
"Yours does."
"I'm this close to punching you in a place you don't wanna be punched."
"How romantic."
"Just like our date last night—oh wait!" Maya stomps down the hallway of Black Diamond Media's third floor, trying to ignore her asshole of a boyfriend behind her.
"That's not fair. You said you didn't want to go out anyway. You were exhausted from one of your classes. I was actually being considerate!"
"To me, or your penis?"
"Good morning, my two favorite people in the whole wide world!" Zay grabs each of them by the hand and pulls them into the red room at the end of the hallway. "Seems like we are all in great spirits today." Maya's eyes could not roll farther back into her head. Lucas seems to reciprocate. "Why don't you tell Dr. Zay what the problem is before Jenny finds out and you have to play along with one of her ridiculous coping schemes. Spill."
"Nothing's wrong here, isn't that right, Huckleberry?" Maya grits her teeth and pulls a sweet smile as she looks up at him.
"Maya's all bent out of shape because I had a girl over last night."
"I said nothing was wrong."
"You were just screaming at me out in the hallway. Make up your mind! You complained about us not going on a date last night, and now tonight when I wanna go on one, you flat out refuse!"
"Just drop it, cowboy."
"Call me by my real name, and maybe I will."
"Alright, shut up!" Zay yells and takes a step to stand in between the two of them. "Maya, you have to stop pretending nothing's wrong. It's obviously something, and we're not going to get anywhere if you don't tell us." Maya nervously sways back and forth and sighs.
"If you don't want to tell me, at least tell Zay." Lucas says and starts to head out the door. Maya opens her mouth to object before her continues, "Please. You're my ticket in here. So figure it out, please."
The door clicks shut and Maya's left with a twisted up heart and Zay's outstretched arms.
"I'm not going to cry again. This is dumb."
"Whatever you say, sweetheart."
And maybe she does. She'll never tell you. But some people notice the stain on Zay's shirt when they leave the office later. And honestly, she's cried too much in the past three months for anyone to be bothered by it anymore. She doesn't mind.
Except.
"I just came in to drop off the last article I wrote. He followed. I'm sorry you had to deal with us." Maya grabs her bag and starts towards the elevator with Zay.
"It's my job to deal with you two."
"How lucky we got with our jobs, huh?" Maya says as she eyes her "job" sitting on the floor by the elevator, asleep on a pile of magazines.
"You can say that again, sister."
When she gets home, she tries to convince herself that there's no problem again. She really does. Because she's a pusher, which includes pushing shit down too. And she's been hiding problems her whole life, the current one no exception.
It started a few weeks ago. She was sitting in a college lecture hall, hiding in the front corner seat, closest to the door so she could run in last minute and leave first thing. She was starting to get published everywhere with Mr. Bad Boy. And people noticed. She hated people coming up to her for gossip, for fake friendships, for a chance to trash talk her to her face instead of behind a tweet, which she had to admit was ballsy. She hated the attention it got her here. School was the worst. Sometimes out in the regular public she could hide, maneuver her way in and out unscathed, but here, kids were everywhere, and they all knew. She could get lucky to be stopped at a crosswalk on her way to work with a man in his forties who had no idea who Lucas Friar and his newest girl were, but college classes proved no such luck. Everyone knew. And they wanted in.
A girl on crutches came into the class ten minutes in and since she couldn't make it to any other seat, needed to take Maya's. (Ugh.) So Maya made the long and shameful walk to the other side of the room, hearing whispers or maybe just imagining them and trying very hard not to. She found it hard to focus on the rest of the lecture, in and out of thinking about the dress the Asshole Army had picked out for her for the night and then laughing at Lucas's chocolate chip cookies he had tried to bake the other day when the aforementioned Assholes put them on lockdown until his toxic ex had left LA. Things had been better since their diner date breakthrough, but not totally. That guy is a complete mess, there's no way to sugarcoat it. She's helping him fix parts of it but he's still his same ego-centric, asshole-ish self. Dates and outings were bearable yes, but there were still girls and bad decisions and the idea that the world revolved around him. They aren't best buds, but they're working on it. She didn't mind getting dragged to some dumb dinner with all these fancy people because a) the Asshole Army made her look hot as hell and b) she loved playing rich person for a day and c) every ounce of control it took to not kill him during it was always worth it for the car ride home when he'd mock those snotty rich people over a bottle of champagne in the limo and have her laughing until the world blurred.
She liked spending time with Lucas and Zay and Riley and occasionally Jenny had her moments and Isadora and Farkle were always just a phone call away and she liked wearing pretty dresses and she liked not having to worry about how much the groceries cost and she liked writing but she hated more than anything in this world the feeling of being "famous". Because she could always hear the jerks behind her in class making some disgusting comment about how her ass looked on the cover of that magazine one day or when the bitchy girls from that bitchy sorority called her foul names and spit at her if she even walked by their house. Worse than flat out hatred was secret envy, the people who'd pretend to be her friend for the long walk to her class, only to be asking for an invite to the next movie premiere right before they sat down, followed by an icy whisper and vicious rumors spread the minute she told them no.
Maya could deal with the spotlight. Just not alone.
Class ended before she had a chance to work up the courage to slap the guy behind her and as she was walking out the professor stopped her.
"Maya, can I talk to you for a second."
Oh, shit.
"Hey, Professor, how are you?" She says, stumbling up to the desk at the front of the room, gathering her stuff, watching the lingering students try to listen in before running out to spread more falsities.
"I should be asking you that."
Maya lifts the corner of her mouth in a half-hearted smile.
The professor continues, "People can be cruel, Miss Hart, I see it. I wish I didn't, but I do."
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?! I had to ask my daughter how to use the internet on my phone to catch up with everything, but other than helping me become the family laughing stock for being so out of date, there is nothing for you to apologize for when you're happy."
Maya plays with the straps of her bag and looks down. Happy?
"I know things have been hectic and it's a lot for you to deal with on your own. So…" the professor pulls out a paper from the drawer of his desk and hands it to Maya.
"Senior Art Show? Professor, the deadline was weeks ago, I—"
"Weeks ago you were stranded in a sea of people trying to tear your happiness away for a quick buck. I'm sure this was the last thing on your mind, when under any other circumstance it would have been."
Senior Art Show was something Maya had looked forward too since her freshman orientation. She visited every year, gaping at the beautiful work of the best of the best. The people showcased went on to be world-renowned. It became more than just an art show. People flooded in to see the work—paintings, photographs, sculptures, dresses, poems, sketches, videos, songs, dances, words, voices, anything you could imagine up was showcased. It was held on campus each year, and as big as it grew to be, it still only housed the work of seniors. It was a staple of the college, a rite of passage for each student, all hoping to one day be apart of it.
Maya wanted to be a writer, no doubt, but her heart had always held a little spot for painting. It served as a great stress-reliever for her growing up, and she had gotten good at it. Coupled with some of the things she wrote, Maya became abundantly proud of her artwork, and looked forward to getting a spot in that Senior Show. And then.
So when she looked at the letter her professor had just given her, she couldn't believe it. This couldn't be happening. She missed it. And then.
"You've got a full wall. It's all written in there. Go crazy, kiddo. The genius kind of crazy I know you are." He smiled, and Maya smiled too, big and bright and genuine.
The weeks had gone by and Maya drowned herself in working out what paintings to use and how to arrange her stuff on "her wall" and made time to write articles for work and essays for classes and shopping lists for Riley because Maya was finding it hard to find a moment to breathe, let alone grocery shop.
And today was the day. The night of the big Senior Art Show and her stuff was placed and hung and this was it and her fucking boyfriend wanted her to chaperone him at a wild Hollywood rager.
She had gushed about it as soon as she got home from classes that day and Lucas had been sitting at the counter, absently nodding in agreement, he even asked what kind of stuff she painted, threw in a snarky comment here or there, so she knows he was listening. Had to be. But apparently washed-up teen star brains can only hold information for a few hours because it has only been a few days since Maya last gushed and here he was, literally acting like nothing was happening. This was her night.
The morning had started like this: "Wake up, cowboy. We've got a big day ahead of us, and I'm making some big pancakes to go with it." She peeked her head into his room and watched him pull the sheets up over his head in hiding. "Moan all you want, Huckleberry. We are officially a packaged deal. That means my early mornings are yours too. Hurry if you want a pancake. Riley can easily devour half her body weight in syrup alone."
He grumbled, but followed her downstairs, playing with the ends of her hair that stuck up from not being brushed yet. He sat at a stool next to Riley, swiftly grabbing the plate from her and dropping a pancake Maya would easily have cut up into 10 pieces into his mouth all at once.
"Boys are gross. Remind me why we like them again?" Riley said, taking her pancakes back.
"Speak for yourself, Riles."
"You don't love this, shortstack?" Lucas asked, a twinkle in his eyes and chewed up pancakes crumbs slipping out the corner of his mouth.
"Don't talk with food in your mouth, first of all, gross, I've taught you better, and second, no, absolutely not. Especially when I have to see the food you're eating. Not pleasant."
"Well, I would love me if I were you, because guess where the true love of my life gets to go tonight?"
Riley seemed to genuinely consider an answer, Maya could only roll her eyes and flip another pancake.
"Humor me, Sundance, where will we be going tonight?" because she knows the answer, and he knows the answer, but she knows it will be funny to see what he calls it today.
"The Annual Beverly Hills Block Party!" he cheers and echoes the sound of crowd in a stadium. Maya gapes. "It's not actually on Beverly Hills. And it's also not a block party. But it's got a nice ring to it, right?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"Maya, the party is sick. I've been going for years. I mean, until they stopped me because I always got hammered and did something I'd later regret. But now I've got you! Jenny wouldn't have let me go, but you're wise and responsible. You'll 'keep me in line'."
"Please tell me you're not serious right now."
"Packaged deal, right? You go, I go."
"I can't believe you right now," Maya mutters under her breath and stomps upstairs, collects herself, and stomps again, this time out the door to get to work.
At first she thought it was a joke, but when he marched down to the office with her to ask Jenny if the two of them could go to a party tonight, she openly gaped at him. He really forgot? Or was he just choosing to neglect because it didn't appeal to him? They'd gotten closer in the past few weeks but maybe an ounce of caring about something important to her was the stuff of real lovers. She'd thought that was genuine courtesy, friendship 101, but hey, Hollywood's a different culture, huh?
They were back at home after a quick trip to Black Diamond where Maya dropped off some papers and picked some more up and Lucas convinced the management team that it was a good idea for them to party tonight.
Miraculously, they had agreed. Beverly Hills Block Party was legit and as long as Maya would be with him, there'd be no trouble. Package deal. But Lucas was going to have to be Jesus himself to get the same kind of miracle out of Maya.
"Tonight is going to be crazy. You have no idea what these parties are like. The place gets packed, and the DJ! And the lights and you'll—"
"I don't want to hear anything about where you're going tonight." Maya stands in her closet, contemplating for the third time this week what dress she should wear. She hasn't had to make a decision like this in a very long time. She'll have to bring some back-up and have Riley decide when they get there.
"You mean where we're going tonight."
"No, just you, Lucas."
"Oh shit, why are you using my name?" He bounced on her bed and edged toward the front of it, eyes wide, as she spun around.
And Maya opened her mouth to yell. She really was. But for months that's all she's been doing. He makes a bad decision, she yells why it's wrong, he apologizes, pulls the pretty face, they end up watching movies on the couch. But Maya is so fucking tired of yelling. This is her night! The day she's looked forward to for 4 years! Her artwork on display for hundreds of people. She didn't have the energy to waste on yelling at him. She needed all her energy to panic just before the doors to the art show opened.
She she simply looked at him, icy cold eyes and an unforgiving smirk. If he wanted to go to that party, it wasn't her problem anymore. Technically, she had given him an alternate, various times. She was giving him a reason not to go. If he couldn't stop thinking about himself for one minute to realize that, well that was a problem she couldn't fix.
"Do whatever you want. I won't be there."
"Maya, no! You have to come with me, that's the only way—"
"For you to have a 'crazy' night?" Maya rolls her eyes. "I've fought with you enough on this today. You're a big boy. If you're getting as good as everyone says you are, you don't need me."
But I do. That's what she wanted to hear. And if she had turned around from her closet and seen his eyes soften and his hands fidget with the sheets beneath him as he whispered those three little words, hell, she would've missed her art show just to do anything he wanted.
But he didn't. "Wow, thanks." He drips sarcastically and moves out of the room in one swift step. And she can't bring herself to care. She'd probably just yell at him if he came to the show anyway. But her heart feels unnaturally heavy for the greatest day of her life.
She has to be at the exhibit early, to make sure everything's ready, also to get all her nerves out before people show up. She slips Riley in with her, after assuring Maya the outfit she picked was "okay wonderful beautiful exquisite perfect you're the most beautiful girl in the world I love you" at least 27 times. Riley is already in awe of the artwork in every room, Maya has to drag her through and promise she can look at it all later.
When they finally come to a stop in front her her wall, Maya thinks there are tears in Riley's eyes.
"Maya."
"Not too bad, huh?"
Riley chuckles and pulls Maya in close.
"You think he'll come?" Maya whispers, more to herself than Riley, but she still gets an answer.
"A hundred people are about to walk through that door to ooh and ahh at your masterpiece and you're worried about one asshole?"
"You're right, it's dumb." Maya shakes her head and steps closer to one of her paintings. Riley looks at it too and she gets it, it all clicks and she hates seeing Maya this sad. Over a boy!
"It's not dumb at all. Not at all." Riley hugs her from behind.
"It is. He's a jerk and I shouldn't care if he's making out with some blonde floozy right now, puking his brains out before downing another drink and moving onto the next girl. He's not really mine. It's an act."
"It's a little more than that, and you know it."
"I've got tons of people coming to see me. I won't even know he's missing." Maya tries to convince herself.
A few moments later, someone yells that it's time, the doors are open, and Maya shakes a little because for as much as she's been telling herself all these people were going to see her artwork, it didn't actually hit her until now. Real people. Her artwork. Crazy night.
The first person in the room charges at full speed toward Maya and picks her up and spins her around and squeezes her with every ounce of his scrawny little being.
And everything already feels a little better.
"Farkle!" Maya yells when he puts her down, taking his face in her hands, "God, I missed your face."
"Missed yours more. Above sucks without you."
"Black Diamond sucks without you."
"Hey!" Riley shouts from the side.
"I mean, I've found a great replacement for you already, but, you know, she actually likes to work." Maya laughs and hugs Farkle again.
"Well my replacement intern sucks."
"I can't believe they even gave you another intern."
"No kidding. We're basically under martial law now. After the incident, they're not taking any chances. You have to get every single thing you do approved, jump through hoops just to go to the bathroom! Publishing is a nightmare. We can only do it on one computer. One! For the whole building! And this guy sits there and watches you the whole time you do it. It's hell, Maya."
"Why don't you just come work for us?" Riley says. Farkle and Maya look at her for a few seconds with straight faces until they just can't hold it in any longer, and burst into laughter.
"Riley, you obviously haven't met Farkle. Riley this is Farkle, the world's laziest worker on the planet, but also boy genius. We're lucky if he attends a meeting once a month. Farkle this is Riley, the love of my life."
"You sure about that, Mrs. Friar?" Farkle says to Maya before shaking Riley's hand.
"I like you too much at this moment to kill you, but the next one, you're a goner."
Smackle comes in next, attacking Maya in a similar fashion, followed by Zay, and Maya's heart feels so full.
"How did you even get approved to go to something like this. You know, with those evil people controlling your life?" Smackle says as she walks with Maya throughout the room.
"Said it was a college thing. They can't keep me from stuff like that. I doubt they even remembered."
"Speaking of, did someone forget? Or is he planning on making a grand entrance?"
Maya sighs, knowing exactly who she's talking about. "More like no entrance at all."
"What a jerk, I can't believe you painted all that beautiful stuff about how in love with him you are—" Smackle starts to yell, but Maya slaps her hand over her mouth.
"Shut up, Is. I don't need anyone coming up to me to talk about—"
And before it's even out of her mouth, there's a journalist and some paparazzi, interrogating Zay and Riley who are standing in front of her work.
This was her night. He's not even here. How could he be ruining it?
She feels the tears, wouldn't be a normal day if they didn't come at least once, so she mutters some excuse to Smackle and rushes out the room, out all the rooms, weaving in and out of the crowd until she reaches the front doors and she's running out just to get a little fresh air when she runs smack into someone's body.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I—" but the words stop when she looks up and sees two shining green eyes.
"You're not going to throw up on me, now, are you? Because that seems to be how this works for us."
"There's a few things I plan on doing to you."
"Not in public!" He whispers seductively, wrapping a hand around her waist and trying to move inside, but Maya has other plans. She moves them outside, somewhere by themselves and hopefully out of earshot so she can yell if she has to.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Packaged deal, remember? You go, I go."
"I thought you were going to that party."
"I was, but I left my phone in your room before, and as I was going to get it, I saw this on the dresser," he holds up the Senior Art Show flyer, "and it looked like suddenly my plans had changed. This cool artist I've been following was showing some of her stuff here tonight. You might have heard of her. Wanna show me where I can see her?"
"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"
"We just gonna stand here and re-state stuff you'll tell me about 12 more times before tomorrow? Take me to my girl!"
"Can't do that, cowboy."
"Yes! It's back. God, I missed you." He beams and his eyes twinkle before scooping her up into a bone-crushing hug that puts all the pieces of Maya's heart back into place.
It's sickening how quickly he can do that. Go from being the worst guy on the planet to close to the best. She grabs his hand and walks back inside. "So, your girl, tell me about her. Maybe I know her. We might have class together."
"You'd be lucky to. She's pretty amazing."
(And that's her favorite work of art.)
By the time they make it into the room where her stuff is again, he's chasing her with tickles, or some other sort of cheesy shit like that and her face is lit up in infectious giggles and the brightest smile anyone's seen on her all day and her professor is standing in front of her wall, and she almost bumps into him trying to escape the tickle monster. She stops right behind him, grabbing both of Lucas's hand behind her to stop him too. And at the sound of their giggles, he turns around.
"Maya, I'm so glad you did this, your work is simply—"
"Wow." Lucas lets out a breath from behind her as he looks up at her wall.
"Exactly the word I'd use, sir." The professor says, turning to Lucas and offering his hand. "Nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you. And now seen a lot too." He winks, looks up at the paintings again, and before Maya can protest, the professor adds, "I love seeing you this happy, Miss Hart. It's good to know you're not alone." He smiles once more, then moves to the next set of exhibits.
"What's he talking about?"
"Nothing, nothing." Maya says, turning around to face him again, not letting go of his hands, "Just, some people can be a little harsh about the whole, dating a superstar thing and it hasn't been easy going to classes by myself."
"What?! What are they doing to you, are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Maya laughs, "I swear. Professor said as long as I'm happy I shouldn't care what everyone else thinks."
"I know firsthand that that's easier said than done." He looks at her with big worried eyes. "Are you sure, everything's fine?"
"You think someone's who's not happy could paint that?" She points up to her canvases, brushed with bright yellows and reds, depicting her view of the tabletops on their various dates: a counter, a couch, a pillow, a car seat. "Wherever you go, I go. Right?"
/
It's the next Friday and Maya's more excited than she was for the art show. Okay, maybe a little bit of an exaggeration, but it's close.
It had been hard to tear him away from Smackle's adoring gaze that night, in awe of the fact that the hottie she had followed through her best friend's writing for the past 4 years was standing in front of her, in person, making heart-eyes at said best friend, but Lucas flew out the morning after the show to do press for his latest movie, a silly rom-com that was sure to make millions, and that Maya had secretly been dying to see.
He's been gone all week, but the Assholes have kept her busy. She's watched him attend premiere after premiere and guess what ladies and gents, it was finally her turn to go to one.
Lucas would fly back today for the LA premiere that she'd get to go to with him, as his official plus one. Perks.
She was beyond excited. For multiple reasons.
The management team had dropped off her dress and shoes and whatnot the night before and they were coming this afternoon to get her ready. Maya was laying on her bed with Riley, gushing about all the celebrities she'd get to meet tonight, how freaking amazing her next article would be, how hot she was going to look.
"Can I be your plus one?"
"I don't think it works like that, Riles."
"But I wanna go! I sign papers, you walk red carpets. Something here is not right."
"You know you have a boyfriend who's just as famous as mine."
"He's not my boyfriend!" Riley objects with a bright red face and snuggles deeper into her pillow to hide, "And since when do we refer to Mr. Pain in the Ass Friar as 'your boyfriend'?"
And then it was Maya's turn to blush.
The doorbell rang, wait just kidding they don't have a doorbell, but whoever was outside had a killer knock, because they could hear it. It got louder and angrier as Maya bolted down the steps, ("God, someone's in a hurry") but when she opened the door she didn't mind that they had interrupted her quality time with Riley.
"Cowboy!" She jumped into his arms faster than the door could open all the way and the pair didn't make a move to let Jenny and the Assholes in behind them.
"And to think this was just a week. I can't wait to be gone for a month. Missed me, blondie?" She rolled her eyes, "Sorry, Maya."
"Much better." She twists her lips up into a smile and pulls him inside.
"I still don't understand why I don't get to pick a cute nickname for you but you can call me any dumb thing that's even the slightest bit related to the fact that I'm from Texas. It's not fair."
"But you still let me." She sing-songs
"This is true." He says, opening the fridge and grabbing a can of soda.
"Not so fast, Mr. Friar. We only stopped here to get you dressed." Jennifer says as she enters the kitchen.
"You said we were coming so he could say hi to Maya?" Zay appears from behind, and what do you know, there's Riley right behind him. Not my boyfriend, she says. Lies.
"Yeah, can't I have two seconds to relax. You've been killing me all week." Lucas says, settling into a seat next to Maya at the table.
"After tonight you can take whatever rest you want, Lucas." Jennifer points some of her army upstairs where Maya assumes they'll start setting up everything to get ready. She hears her dress calling her name.
"Maybe if she brought a larger fleet we could start a little later. There's like 2 people here! And I haven't even showered yet, so she's gonna have to wait." Maya whispers to Riley next to her, then looks at Jennifer and says, "Sorry, my rooms a mess, I can go clean it up a little before they go in," and she starts to walk towards the steps but Jennifer stops her.
"That won't be necessary, Maya."
"You're starting to scare me, Jenny. What's goin' on?" Zay shakes his head.
"The team has decided it would be best for Mr. Friar to attend the premiere alone tonight."
Hell no.
"What?! When did that happen? Why was I not invited to this meeting!" Zay yells.
"Me too! Where was I for this decision?" Riley jumps out of her seat.
"She hasn't been at any of the other premieres, to make her first appearance now, at the end of the press tour would not be wise."
"I got a few wise things to say to you, Jennifer." And when Zay uses her full name, you know she's in for it. "How can you just make such blatant decisions without consulting us? Beyond being apart of their management, we're their friends. Where you might see this as a strategic publicity move, we actually have feelings. Your robots don't. So your decision is invalid."
"No it is not, Isaiah." Oh shit. It's going down, they're both angry now.
"If I may, Jennifer," Lucas stands up form his seat, "I know it's your job to do what's best for me, but how do you ever really know what the best is?"
"I've gotten you where you are now, isn't that the best?"
"Yeah, but now I have things I care about. I care about what happens to me, and I want a say. When you make decisions, you do what looks best on paper, but it's not best for me. You don't care about what I care about."
"I do care, Mr. Friar."
"You don't! You obviously don't." Lucas ruffles his hair and paces back and forth, "A few months ago, someone taught me that when you care about someone, it doesn't matter what you have to do to make things okay for them and it doesn't matter how it affects you. So what, if they write some dumb article about me tomorrow morning? I wanna have fun at the premiere tonight."
"You're still going to the premiere."
"But Maya isn't. And that's what I care about. Where she goes, I go."
"Lucas, don't—" Maya starts to say, because it's really not worth it, it isn't, she knew things like this were going to happen sooner or later, this all looks great but behind the scenes it's a mess.
"No, I'm not going if she's not. And trust me, that story will be a lot worse than whatever they come up with for the two of us there."
Zay and Riley start talking to Jennifer, probably trying to reason and argue why her decision is so pointless.
"Lucas you have to go." Maya leans in close and whispers to him, forgetting whatever is happening behind her.
"No I don't. Not if you're not there. We're a packaged deal!"
"I know." She laughs. He doesn't. "Look, someone pretty smart taught you all those things you just screamed at Jenny just now, which was kickass by the way. She's just taking a little of her own advice."
"These things sucked all week without you. Do you know how many times I turned to say something hilarious to you that would have had you peeing in your pants but you weren't there? It was pathetic."
"You just said it yourself. You did them all week, you can do one more. You don't need me."
"But I do." And there they were. Those three little words. Maya's heart was so happy it could burst.
"Maybe we can set me up in an earpiece or something, like we had Zay for our first dates."
Now he laughed, "God, now that was pathetic."
"We've gotten a lot better. Look, you actually want me to go somewhere with you."
"Packaged deal." He squeezes her hand.
Lucas tells Jenny he'll go without her and Zay and Riley can only sit there in silence as they watch it happen.
"What just happened?" Zay says as Lucas runs upstairs.
"Just making things okay for each other."
/
Maya wakes up on the couch at 7:30 that night, one hand in a bag of chips the other on her phone under, resting under her, the screen still lit up from texting Lucas, the TV open to live coverage of the movie premiere she had to miss because being famous sucks.
She hears a key twist and the swoosh of the door. Her heart stops for a moment, because it's dark out and she's home alone (fucking he's-not-my-boyfriend Riley went out with Zay anyway) but within moments she hears that sweet southern charm.
"What are you doing home? Don't you have an after party to be at?" She asks, jumping up from the couch.
"Now, what kind of fun would that be?"
"Probably tons."
"Not as fun as this—" He smirks, and lifts up 2 movie tickets. "If you get dressed and we're out the door in ten minutes we'll make it to the midnight premiere."
"It's 7:34."
"Can't go anywhere they'll spot me. It'll be a long ride, but I'll entertain you with my beautiful singing voice."
"As long as it's not country."
"I make no promises." He throws his hands up. Maya grabs one and starts to pull him out the door with a beam, but "Whoa there, slow down. If I'm dressed up, you're getting dressed up too."
"To sit in the back row of a sketchy movie theater and accidentally brush hands when we reach for popcorn at the same time as we watch you make out with someone on the big screen?"
"We can do some making out too, if that's where you're going with this."
"Are we even allowed?"
"To make out?"
"To go to the movies." She rolls her eyes and plays with his fingers she's still holding onto.
"How do you think I got the tickets? Jenny's a secret sap. There's a heart in there somewhere."
"So I seriously have to put the dress on?"
"Do you plan on showing up to the rest of my premieres in your sweatpants?"
"But how will I be able to sneak into your seat for the making out you promised if I'm in a dress?" but she smiles and runs up the stairs, runs right back down within minutes and hops into the car.
His singing is horrendous. Absolutely ear-splitting and glass-shattering. And the wind is doing wonders on her hair as it blows out the window. Her black dress is stained with drops of vanilla ice cream they stopped for. Her lipstick is smudged from wiping away the sloppy kisses he tried to sneak, which never quite hit her lips. She's laughed so hard she's cried. He's had to pull over a few times because it's be unsafe to drive if you couldn't see through your laughter tears. And they haven't even made it to the movie yet.
They run in and grab a bag of popcorn, leaving a trail of laughter and the wave of her long black dress. They slip into their seats in the back, already throwing popcorn at each other. It feels almost scandalous, sneaking out of the house and skipping what's on the schedule, but at the same time it felt so normal, doing a cliché movie date on a Friday night.
Maya knows most of the feelings she's feeling when he whispers in her ear or beams when he hears her laugh or practically pulls her into his seat with him are the types of feelings people build up for their whole life.
Packaged deal? Feels like express shipping.